#this dispatch comes to us from anon's couch

[likebreadandwine]

i’ve high for the first time in a while and apparently got the munchies BAD. i didn’t realise how much i’ve eaten but i am pinned to the couch and my shirt has started to slide up. i even ordered more food after looking through your blog…. is being this full meant to feel so good ??

the answer is yes, babe - being that full is meant to feel so, so good. sounds like you would've been quite the sight, pinned to the couch like that. and ordering more? after reading my blog?? the highest possible compliment.

this is the kind of thing I daydream about... 💭

#this dispatch comes to us from anon's couch #and what a delicious update it is #sounds like the munchies hit you HARD #truly an inspiration to us all #asks and answers #anonymous

[expecto-kedavra]

Hullo xD I love your soft Imelda bit, could you do another one :’) maybe coming from another slytherins perspective, after the events of the game :))) <3

Hey anon! Thank you! I love writing soft Imelda, I think she definitely knows her worth, but I think she also is slightly insecure and wants friends, but is scared. Here you gooooo

Imelda Reyes, Quidditch Captain and Heartthrob.

I was tired. The end of the year was taxing, emotionally and physically. I thought I’d have a bit of a rest after the year ended, but I was wrong. I spent the summer holiday in Feldcroft with Ominis and Sebastian. Word had gotten out about my heroics, and residents from all across the Highlands were sending me owls, asking for favors. “Oh, listen to this one.” The three of us were sitting at the table, reading through what Sebastian called my fan mail. “Hello, MC. I have recently been afflicted with a terrible curse that prevents me from degnoming my garden. It seems the only cure lies in a tropical island in the Caribbean. I can travel there myself, but I worry for my poor garden.” Sebastian looked up from the letter, amused. “Honestly, the nerve and laziness of some people.” Ominis said, yet I could tell he did find it entertaining. “You’d think that you were a wand-for-hire.” I laughed at his remark. He was right. The amount of these cries for help that only needed help with simple mundane tasks was quite ridiculous. Of course, there was the odd troll we’d have to dispatch, or a wave of inferi created by some upstart. Rarely. We continued sorting through the haul from that day, and determined that we would write one letter saying that I had fallen ill, and motivating them to find the “courage and resolve I found when facing Ranrok” to complete their task. Once the letter was complete, we used a multiplying charm on it and sent the lot on their way.

The letters didn’t stop until the day before school began. It was at least decent enough of my “admirers” to respect my academic pursuits. Walking into Hogwarts was a breath of fresh air. The start of term feast was as delicious as always, and the new crop of Slytherins seemed promising. As I was cramming my face full of pudding, I looked up and made eye contact with Imelda. She seemed to have been watching me. I offered a mouth-full smile, and a small wave. Was that a blush I saw on the badass quidditch stars’ face? Probably not. We had ended the year as friends, but I didn’t think anything else of it. I pushed it to the back of my mind for the moment, and headed back to the Slytherin common room.

As I was sitting down by the fire, my thoughts drifted to Imelda. The way we had evolved through the last year was quite the tale. Her words rang through my head, “you’re a credit to our house.” She had said with a smile, after I had set the new record down at the south coast time trial. We spent more time together after that, chatting and challenging each other. She had the most delicate laugh, for someone with her personality. We’d make fun of each other, and all manner of “arguments” would catch many eyes from around the Great Hall. It was quite entertaining, and I was glad to have her as a friend. I frequently would wish that one of my summer letters would be her, but to no avail. I was snapped from my thoughts by Violet McDowell, a girl who had taken a sudden interest in me following the events of last year. “Hi MC! How are you? I’m well. Iwaswonderingifyourebusytomorrowevening?” Wow. The words flew from her mouth like a Peruvian Vipertooth that was late to work. “Umm well I-“ I struggled to think of an excuse. Perfectly one schedule, I was rescued by none other than the girl that I had wished to ask that question, Imelda. “Sorry Vi. MC and I are training for the upcoming Quidditch trials. I’ve selected them to be my co-captain.” Well this was news to me. “Oh, I understand. Good luck MC.” Violet said with a lustful gaze. She meandered off, and Imelda sat next to me on the couch. “I could tell you were a bit uncomfortable with that. You needn’t be my co-captain if you don’t want. I had planned to extend the offer more formally.” Again, I swear I saw the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks. “Oh no I’d be honored, someone has to help keep you in check.” I mused. She chuckled. “More like I wanted to make sure your feelings weren’t hurt if I chose someone else.” She chided. Her tone shifted to business. “Right. Meet me at the pitch tomorrow at dawn. We need to get started early.” And she swiftly left. I watched her leave, taking in every detail of what had happened. I tried to tell myself she was just a friend, and I was the best option as co-captain. She didn’t have any romantic feelings for me, so I needn’t convince myself something was there. Yet, the sparkle of her eyes and the warmth of her laugh remained in my mind, almost teasing me. I made my way to bed, the thought of her soft skin and the subtle scent of her perfume refusing to leave me.

The next morning, I popped out of bed, heart slamming in my throat. I ignored Sebastian’s snoring and mumbling as I grabbed my perfectly trimmed and polished broom from my trunk. I wasn’t nervous for classes, or that I’d be rubbish during practice. It was more so excitement of flying with Imelda. I practically sprinted towards the pitch in my uniform. Imelda was ready for me, already having retrieved the balls and cleaned her broom. She saw me coming and grinned. “Had a sleepy start?” She snickered. “It’s about time you showed up.” I laughed. Her snickers and quips had gone from frustrating and obnoxious to almost sweet. “Sorry, thought I’d pop by the Lake and say hello to the merpeople.” Returning her sarcasm had quickly become second nature. “Alright Nerida. Time to begin!” I rolled my eyes, deciding to let her have the last word for now. “First off, we’ll need to decide your position. Our strongest point is Chaser of course,” she said with a flip of her hair, “and our weakest is Keeper. We had a damn good one, but they graduated last year.” I hadn’t given much thought to position. “Of course you do have a solid build, you would make a fair beater. And you’re fast, so seeker isn’t out of the question either.” She was so focused on her passion, it was quite attractive. “Well, I don’t want to distract you with my fantastic shows of strength, and Seeker is kinda boring, so Keeper?” I said. “Good choice! Now, let’s begin. I’ll try to score on you. Don’t let me.” And away we went.

Being as competitive as we both were, the training was grueling. I fared quite well, learning from and analyzing my mistakes. I could tell when we finished Imelda was impressed. “Well done! I wasn’t holding back. Remember, since you’re co-captain, you need to help me assess the trials tonight. But honestly if you play like that, we could have mooncalves as teammates and the Cup would be ours!” She threw her hands in the air, and in doing so dropped her broom. We both reached down for it, bumping into each other, and awkwardly apologizing. As we stood, I found myself closer to her. “I probably smell terrible.” I laughed. “Oh you do. Positively revolting.” I studied her face, beads of sweat trickling from her forehead, her chest still rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. “I probably smell like a troll. What do you think?” She said, and took a step closer. She was inches away from me, looking up into my eyes. “Well, I’ve met a few trolls, and you definitely don’t smell that bad.” I lightly caressed her cheek, and she leaned into my hand. “Your hair looks quite sexy all messy and blustery.” I whispered. I inched closer, feeling her breath on my face. Her lips parted, and I fell into them, allowing myself to melt into her. She moaned softly as I a pulled her in, sweeping her in. Our kisses slowly got faster and hotter, as she ran her fingers through my hair and nibbled on my lower lip. We eventually pulled away from each other breathing heavily. “Wow.” I said. “Uh huh!” She replied. “Could you finally be speechless? Incredible, I would have kissed you last year in Irondale if that’s what it took.” I said with a wink. “Very funny. Now, as wonderful as that was, don’t expect it to just happen all the time.” I had to admit I was definitely disappointed at her words. I stared at my feet. “Imelda I-“ but she swiftly cut me off. “You have to at least take me on two dates first. Then I’ll be your girlfriend.” I looked back up, beaming. “Well then, it shall be my sole purpose. Prepare yourself, I’m a damn good date planner.” I planted a kiss on her forehead, and winked at her. “That one doesn’t count.” She smiled and moved back into me, placing her hand on my chest. “On second thought, if you consider our competition last year, that could be considered three dates.” She said mischievously. My heart jumped to my throat and my stomach filled with butterflies. “And Everett Clopton has already started trying to court me.” She looked back up at me innocently. “I’d hate to lead him on.” I picked her up and spun her around. “And we can’t have that! Poor Everett would be broken.” She chuckled softly and gently kissed my cheek. “Now, go shower co-captain. You’ll need to keep your marks up if you want to stay on the team.” She lightly pushed me away. “You’re one to talk Mellie, you could overflow the lake with all that sweat.” I mused. She stuck her tongue out at me and we both laughed. I practically skipped to the showers, ignoring the strange looks from the hufflepuff captain walking up to the pitch.

The Slytherin Quidditch team squashed Gryffindor first match. Nobody scored on me, and I watched in awe as Imelda masterfully corkscrewed through the opposition and scored goal after goal. As our seeker snagged the Golden Snitch and Madam Kogawa blew her whistle, Imelda flew over to me and planted a kiss firmly on my cheek. “Well done, I knew you were the right choice.” Her smile lit up my heart, sending tingles down my arms. “I could say the same for you.” I replied. She looked at me, confused. “What choice did I make?” I laughed at her confusion. “The one to be my girlfriend, you dork.” She giggled and blushed. If you told me last year I’d be dating Imelda Reyes, and she would be giggling? And blushing? Well, I would have taken you to St. Mungo’s. Clearly you had a run in with a flock of Fwoopers. Absolutely out of your mind.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy #Imelda Reyes #Sebastian sallow #Ominis Gaunt #hphl #soft Imelda #quidditch #hogwarts #harry potter #slytherin #gryffindor #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #hogwarts houses #hogwarts oc

[jadelynlace]

I apologise if you've answered this or something the same 😅 I know you have talked about Ivar and his anxiety and attacks. But I have been thinking about how he might help his girlfriend with one of her own. I hope this makes sense English is not my strongest language 😬

Oh anon, I'm sorry it has taken me so long to answer this. And your English? Better than most people I know who has English as their first language.

So, we know Ivar likes to take care of you. He loves to bask in those caregiver vibes. Whether you're on your period, or having nightmares. When you're feeling under the weather, no matter the season. Even when it comes to aftercare.

And Ivar is someone who has also experienced his own anxiety, and anxiety attacks, and knows his own triggers and soothing methods. He has the ability to read into what you're feeling (the perk of paying attention to your partner!), and he can tell, rather quickly, when you're getting overstimulated at the grocery store, or when you're angry at something. But anxiety? I feel like anxiety is something Ivar isn't too keen into because you tend to handle that on your own.

When it comes to EMS, there is going to be anxiety around any given corner; whether is be before a call that sounds rather jarring through dispatch (and slightly garbled by the crackling in the transmission), all the way to suiting up for a structure fire. You're used to that anxiety, you're used to the adrenaline that comes with this career. And with it, you're used to putting on a brave face. You're used to sucking it up and reminding yourself: "The patient calling is having an emergency, you're not." And with all of that, you're arriving in a vehicle that commands presence, from the ambulance, to the engine, to the ladder engine, when you're driving and arriving, everyone's eyes are on you; you have to conduct yourself in the correct manner.

Alright, focus Jade.

But your anxiety around Ivar? Shoved down. Pushed under the rug. Drowned with another cup of caffeine that's not helping at all. You're bouncing your knee, picking your nails, constantly fidgeting and Ivar starts to take notice. He starts to pay attention really fucking fast because you could power a small home with how your leg is bouncing.

"Baby?" He'll hum.

"Hm?"

"You good?" Ivar asks. He's not even looking at you, his eyes are glued to what he's working on, his voice floating above the sketchbook.

"All good," You reply.

"Just trying to see if you can generate your own electricity?" Ivar then asks.

"What?" You ask because you're not even aware that you're moving so quickly. "Oh," You then say when you notice what he's referring to.

"What's bugging you?" And you don't answer right away.

"I'm anxious," You finally peep, looking down and twisting your fingers. You watch Ivar slowly set his sketchbook down, disregard what he's doing and how he's laying to speak:

"Come 'ere," He says, motioning for you to come closer to him. You maneuver, lying against him on the couch as you settle on his chest. The first thing you hear is Ivar's heart beat; solid and steady and calming within a minute. He doesn't speak, he just holds you against him, rubbing his hands on your back, through your hair, as you just listen to his heart beat.

"Do you know what's making you anxious?" Ivar finally says.

"Haven't a clue," You peep.

"That's alright, baby," Ivar starts. "I didn't want to do anything today, anyways,"

read more Ink Drinker here / find out more about Ink Drinker here

full master list can be found here.

#vikings #vikings au #modern vikings #ivar au #modern vikings au #ivar #modern ivar #vikings fiction #ivar lothbrok #— i am i am i am. ( my writings & creations )

[jikookuntold]

Jimin arrived in SK in evening yesterday. So anyone who believes jikook are a couple will think he went to JK's place. Because the 'true love' ' I missed you' 'spends a lot of time together 'couple should be together after jm returned from 2 weeks trip isn't it. Won't they miss each other. But guess what JK was chilling outside at night, alone or maybe with someone else, taking pictures with fanboy etc. Funny they didn't even met each other the day Jimin returned. And when they both are in seoul. Oh you may find explanation- they met but then at night JK thought it's a good idea to leave his bf who returned after 2 weeks work trip alone at home to go and chill with strangers, couples need not be 24*7 together. Yes it's true but any normal couple would spend QUALITY time together, especially if their partner just returned from a long trip.

Ah, my dear Anon, you are back with another dramatic story made up inside your head. You are very creative, and I appreciate your imagination power, but NEVER feed your fantasies to people as FACTS. How are you so sure of yourself about knowing the exact time and date of a photo posted by a fan? Who gives you that confidence, my dear? Anyways, Thank you for bringing up this topic because actually, there was something interesting about Jk's recent sightings that I wanted to mention. When Jimin is in SK, we barely see JK outside hanging out with friends or family or visiting restaurants. But from the day Jimin left the country, he has been spotted outside at least three times. Isn't it interesting? When Jiminie is home, he never feels like going out and having fun, but when he isn't, he gets bored and needs to find a way to pass the time. Do you like my fantasy story? But I'm not done yet, I have more to make and feed to the people. Okay, here is the deal; Let's assume you are right about the time of that photo, and it's taken when Jimin was coming back from the US. We know that Jimin loves to prepare surprises for people, (Remember his surprise for Hobi in Chicago? yeah). So, what if JK didn't know the exact time of Jimin's arrival? (he is not jobless to follow Dispatch streams, obviously). So he went out with a friend as a habit of his Jiminless days. Then he came back home and tada! Jimin is sitting on the couch looking at him. It's so romantic, isn't it?

P.S. I'm getting worried about you, Anon. You are too invested in two people's relationships who you believe have nothing to do with each other. You are more obsessed than any shipper, and it's not healthy at all. You should find another hobby, like maybe using your creativity for better causes? I don't know.

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+ 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters 

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea! 

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

Taglist: 

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro​ 

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #the devil all the time #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker fluff #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan imagine #x reader #fluff #smut #nanny!reader #x f!reader #found family

[tessiete]

If you still take prompts: Rumors of the Duchess of Mandalore (bc patriarchal bs and misogynistic beliefs about female leaders) potentially getting married reaches Coruscant and Obi-Wan copes as well as can be expected. Cue sad boi sadness with maybe fluff at the end? Or go full angst I’m ok with either

I AM! I am still taking prompts, and I know this took a while to get around to because I’m also sloooooow at filling them. But here we are, dear anon. I hope you enjoy this little snippet! <3

THE GRAVITATIONAL DEFLECTION OF LIGHT

There is some silly, selfish part of him that he never outgrew, and like a weed in his gut it twists and writhes when he hears that the Duchess Kryze is to marry.

And suddenly, he finds himself thinking of her more often, and more frequently during situations where his attention would best be put to use elsewhere. In council, he is forced to ask Master Windu to repeat a question he’d failed to hear, his mind being drawn by the gleam of light off the Senate dome on the horizon. During a sparring match, he takes a hit he’d never have missed except that Anakin threatens to deliver him a close shave at the end of his saber, and he’s struck dumb by the memory of her hand upon his cheek. There are peace lilies in a vase in the Archives, and pure beskar changes hands in a deal he’s meant to disrupt at a Separatist camp, but by far the most egregious lapse comes in the midst of relief efforts in a small village on Taskeed. He is caught, for a moment, by the sight of a woman with blonde hair and a young boy on her hip turning away from him. His focus slips. A blaze of light flashes more quickly than he can see, and by the time he hears the retort of a blaster rifle he is already on the ground.

The clones close ranks around him. Cody kneels, calling in a medevac even as Obi-Wan tries to rise. 

“No, sir, stay down,” he says, laying one hand against his shoulder. Obi-Wan winces at the contact. His muscles strain at the effort, the nerves at the site of his injury ruptured and ragged.

“Cody,” he chokes out. “There’s a hostile.”

His second is a merciful man and makes no comment on the idiocy of that statement. Instead, he bites open a pain tab, and shoves it between Obi-Wan’s teeth. Then, so rapidly he has no time to protest, he removes his belt, and tears apart the fabric at Obi-Wan’s waist, sprinkling sulfa powder over the gory wound, and pressing a bacta patch down to cover it.

There is no more blaster fire to mark their passage back to the ship, but the wound is too serious to treat on board The Negotiator. He is sent back to Coruscant as a consequence of his foolishness.

There, he is dipped in bacta, where he doesn’t dream, and he spends the next week of his convalescence thinking of her.

It had never been this bad during their first separation. The months following her ascension to the duchy had been painful, that he cannot deny, and he spent hours in his room lonely, and self-pitying, but he had been a child then and he can forgive himself now of the folly of youthful indiscretions. There followed more than a decade between them and he had gone days, weeks - upon the outbreak of war even months - without thinking of her at all.

But with one touch of her hand, he’s fallen again, his resolve crumbling into dust as though his indifference to her were only a veneer grown thin and brittle with being stretched over so much time.

The Duchess of Mandalore is to marry.

Why should that matter to him? They are friends. Hardly that, and nothing more. And it was he who had defined those terms. So why should he be restless, and anxious, and fretted up like some craftsman’s handiwork at the thought of it? It is silly. It is demeaning - to her, and to him.

And yet...he wants to know.

Who is she to marry? And when? How did they meet? Is he a Mandalorian, like her? Or did she meet him here? Did they meet at the Senate while he walked in the Temple only a few klicks away? Have they much in common? Do his political aims match hers? Does he long for peace like she does? Will he stand by her side in upholding it? Would he die for it? Would he die for her? Does she love him?

She must, he thinks. She must love him. She would not choose him, otherwise.

And that, perhaps, is the cruelest thought of all.

He is confined to medbay with nothing to occupy his time but his holopad, his dispatch reports, and her when he sees a news story flash on his screen.

At Last! The Lily is Plucked

He cannot help himself as he reads about a chance meeting, a whirlwind romance, and plenty of private assignations held at various hotels and restaurants across Capital City. There are holos, too, and reels. He sees her leaving the Bal Silvestre on the arm of Corellian senator, Garm Bel Iblis.

Senator Bel Iblis is older than her, and seems a bit unkempt, his long hair pulled half back in a simple style. Obi-Wan knows of him by reputation, and heard him called a rake. His politics brand him a maverick, and a rogue, and he has been known, once or twice, to engage in backdoor negotiations in order to ensure a vote swings one way or another in his favour. Beside him, while he stands smug in his dark brocade, she shines. She is spotless. Luminous. They are not well matched.

He scours the net for more, and because he is looking, he finds it. There are many articles - hundreds. Some map out timelines of their courtship (they met years ago, apparently, at some gala held while Obi-Wan was still helping Anakin with Basic), some tell the history of their previous romantic entanglements (he was engaged to a woman now dead. She was once rumoured to be promised to a Vizsla. Obi-Wan’s name is not mentioned). Some merely provide pictures of their exploits, and comment on their mutual friends, making conjecture after conjecture about how their romance came to be, and what must happen next now that the flame has been rekindled. It is torturous. And tedious. And soon, Obi-Wan loses track of the details that appear in one article, and again in every other.

But one thing remains clear to him: Satine Kryze is going to be married. She has forever slipped his reach.

A reach, he pathetically reminds himself, he never intended to extend. All this self-flagellation is for naught. He is being ridiculous. 

So he thumbs off his pad, turns out the lights, and tries to sleep with the image of Satine, smiling and resplendent flickering in his mind. The next morning, feeling no better for the little rest he managed to steal, he deletes the history of his pad, and determines to feel absolutely nothing at all about Satine Kryze.

Then Padme comes to the Council and requests a padawan be sent to Mandalore’s aid.

It is Ahsoka who goes. Of course it is. He takes small solace in the fact that it had not been he who suggested her, but since she was assigned, he feels well within his rights to enquire about the Duchess upon her return.

“She seemed fine,” Ahsoka tells him. He has invited her for tea following her report to the Council, hoping he might, in his hospitality, coax a few more personal details from his grand-padawan. “I mean, there was a moment where Almec - that’s the Prime Minister, or rather was - anyway, there was a moment where he had her in a shock collar, but like I said, the cadets and I managed to sort it out.”

“Right,” he concedes. “As you said.”

A moment passes between them. Obi-Wan sips his tea, struggling to swallow as the fist around his throat grows tighter and tighter. Ahsoka, blissful in the aftermath of a successful solo mission, grabs another biscuit and a strip of perami gammon. 

“And tell me,” he ventures. “What of her - her consort? Any word of him? Where was he during this mess?”

“Her consort?”

“Her husband.”

Ahsoka scrunches her nose, and cocks a brow at Obi-Wan’s wild inquiry.

“She had a nephew,” she says. “But no one ever said anything about a consort.”

“Ah,” he says. “Perhaps he was occupied elsewhere.”

“Maybe,” she agrees, amicable and amenable to letting the whole thing slide. He only hopes she won’t think it significant enough to mention to Anakin later. His curiosity won’t be as easily sated with tea and deflection.

--

He is not a lucky man.

Anakin comes blazing into his room with an ambitious stride, and a grin that speaks of imminent mischief.

“Heard you were asking Ahsoka about the Duchess’ consort,” he says, throwing his cloak over the back of a chair and dropping to lounge across Obi-Wan’s low couch.

“I was asking about her mission,” he corrects. He turns his back to set some water to boil, knowing that such an entrance by his padawan indicates a visit of extended duration. “And the key players, therein. Purely professional.”

“Purely.” Anakin smirks.

The subject is dropped when Anakin is diverted by the service being laid before him, and the inclusion of several of his favourite confections.

“Noorian memba tarts!” he cries. “Where did you even find these?”

“An old recipe,” Obi-Wan says. “But I remember you enjoyed them when we dined on Belasco and thought I’d try my hand at it.”

It is not a bad effort either, judging by Anakin’s display of enthusiasm. He eats the first with some degree of etiquette, but the fourth, fifth, and sixth are gone with no display of decency or shame whatsoever.

Obi-Wan sips his tea. He is thinking of Tahl while Anakin is thinking of the sweetness on his tongue, and making excuses for his absence the previous night.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan, but I was unavoidably delayed after the Senate recessed for the evening. I had to - to assist a delegate with a personal matter.”

Obi-Wan says nothing, but remembers how Qui-Gon, too, used to invent reasons to disappear unchecked. He invents nothing. He only cleaves to his duty, while time and fate conspire to keep him absent anyway. 

Anakin must hear something in his silence, because his expression loses the tension of equivocation, and he falls to studying Obi-Wan’s face.

“I was only teasing, master,” he says. “Before. I didn’t think to ask Ahsoka anything about the Duchess. She spent most of her time with the nephew, but he seemed a bright kid. Close to Satine. I can ask her to ask him if he knows anything -”

“Absolutely not,” says Obi-Wan. The words are soft, but definite. He rises swiftly to clear the detritus of their meal. “Thank you, Anakin, but Duchess Kryze is only a friend. I merely inquired out of a desire to assure myself that the report issued to the Council lacked nothing in the thoroughness of its presentation. I should hate to think that such a personal association might be overlooked as an avenue for effecting harm.”

“Oh.”

“But I thank you in any case. Ahsoka’s report was well done, and you should be very proud of your padawan,” he says. “As I am of you.”

He turns to Anakin then, smiling and benign. His padawan meets his look with a vaguely skeptical one of his own, before patting him on the shoulder, and shrugging back into his cloak.

“Alright, master,” he says. “I’ll let her know how thorough she was.”

“Goodbye, Anakin.”

“Goodbye,” his friend replies. Then, just as he crosses the threshold of the door and moves into the open hall, he looks back. “Oh,” he says. “There’s a quick supply run being made to Mandalore for relief in light of Ahsoka’s investigation. Scheduled for tomorrow, but unfortunately, I’m needed back at the Senate. I meant to ask - you wouldn’t mind making the trip for me, would you? You don’t even need to get off the ship.”

---

There is nothing he can say to Anakin, so of course, as contrived and embarrassing as the whole thing is, he goes. And he does get off the ship.

Satine is there to meet him.

“Master Kenobi,” she says, extending her hand. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

He drops a brief, and reverential kiss then lets her go. 

“Cleaning up after my padawan and his padawan, it seems,” he says. “Apparently, a master’s work is never over. Congratulations on your recent engagement, Duchess. I hope you’ll both be very happy.”

The look which passes over Satine’s face is one he cannot decipher. He thinks she looks in equal parts shocked that he has heard, disgusted by his presumption in speaking of it, embarrassed by his boldness, and wearied by his presence. But she doesn’t deny it, so he makes his excuses to leave.

“Excuse me, Duchess,” he says. “But this was only meant to be a very brief visit, and I should prepare for departure.”

“Can you not stay for midmeal?” she asks, and he hesitates upon the precipice of her invitation. “Surely you don’t mean to tease me with a visit as brief as this? And surely your men would enjoy some rest and repast before you go?”

The troopers at his back shift, and he can feel their eagerness undulate in the Force. It would be cruel to deny them for the preservation of his own fragmented dignity, so he relents.

“Of course, your grace,” he says. “We would be most honoured.”

“Captain,” she says to the Protector at her right. “Have these men fed and watered immediately. The kitchens and my staff are at their disposal.”

He clicks his heels, and disappears, while she steps forward, and wraps her arm around Obi-Wan’s as though completely uncaring of any beau or consort or husband who might see.

“You, my dear master,” she murmurs slyly by his ear. “Are to be attended elsewhere, at my discretion.”

He does nothing to resist as she pulls him along.

Soon, they are at the Palace. Soon, they are sat at a small table in her private quarters, drinking Mandalorian kava, and eating freshly baked land’shun. Soon, they are alone.

She sets her drink aside, and dusts her hands on a fine silk napkin before broaching the subject trapped between them.

“Now, what is this about my nuptials?” she asks. Her blue eyes are steady upon his own, and he feels his palms slick with sweat. She is radiant. She is regal. There is no holo or reel or word that could do justice to the beauty of this woman in the flesh, and he feels that insidious root of jealousy writhe with agony.

“Satine -” he begins.

“No, no,” she protests, seeming to anticipate his deflection before he has begun. “I should like to hear why you think I ought to accept your congratulations, and why you felt you ought to offer them personally, in particular. Mandalore seems a rather dull trip for a High General to make.”

“I came in Anakin’s stead, actually,” he replies pertly. Another sip of kava lends some sophistication to this claim.

“Of course,” she says, but she does not look away. He can feel her gaze upon him. He can feel her glittering in the Force. She is laughing.

And he cannot bear it.

“Forgive me, your grace,” he says, rising to his feet. He sets the cup upon a saucer where it clatters inelegantly against the pot of sucre next to it, overturning the dish and sending the crystals spilling across the table. “Forgive me,” he says again. 

She lunges forward to right the pot, and still his hand beneath her own. For a moment, he doesn’t breathe. Then, he pulls away.

“I read about it on the net,” he says. “I saw the holos, and the reels. I only wanted to see you one last time, to see...I wanted to see that you were happy. That’s all.”

“Oh, Ben,” she says, his name like a sigh upon the breeze.

“It is nothing,” he says. “A foolishness all my own. I am sorry if I have troubled you, and I offer you my sincerest congratulations.”

He bows, though when he raises his head, his eyes do not rise with it, so he does not see the look of sorrow upon her face. Still, he imagines it as pity, and moves to make his escape. She is faster than he is. 

“No,” she says, standing between him and the door. “I will not accept your congratulations, and I will not accept your departure on such callous terms as these.”

“Duchess -”

“Ben,” she counters, leaning on the name. “I am not engaged. I am not married. And I do not intend to be, no matter how devoted to the idea of it you are.”

“I - devoted?” he asks, his voice rising to the height of his indignation. “I am devoted to no such thing. I have only - only been reconciled to it for weeks, thinking only of you and your happiness.”

“And your own misery, too, I’d wager.”

He chokes on his denial because he knows it is too big a lie to fit through his lips, and stares at her in dismay. She is smiling. Force, he thinks. She is incandescent. Like she has swallowed a star, and he can’t look away. He would that he could be consumed by her too, and finally, he gives in.

“Yes,” he says in an admission of guilt so great it brings relief. “I was miserable. I am, I think, an infinitely miserable person.”

“You are,” she agrees. “But I am not getting married, I am not engaged, and I am only as in love as I ever have been. And if you are foolish enough to forget that, then you are deserving of every misery you heap on yourself.”

“Have pity,” he begs.

“None,” she says.

“Have mercy,” he pleads.

“For you?” she says. “Always.”

They fall together like gravity and sunlight, and for a moment, whole galaxies bend to their will.

#my fic #prompt fill #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #obitine #garm's here #and anakin #and ahsoka #i mashed everyone in #star wars #fic #gffa

[flooffybits]

To Risk It All

Idol: Kim Taeyeon (Girls’ Generation)

Request: Yes

Anon: hi! you're one of my fave writers & i want to say that im absolutely in love w/ your works! can i request a taeyeon scenario wherein she tries her best not to let the public know abt their relationship because she doesn't want ppl hating on s/o that they can't even enjoy a simple date outside? s/o was fed w/ it so they got into an argument? tae eventually apologized & took it upon herself to reveal their relationship to the public? im sorry if this is very detailed btw :( i hope it's okay!

Author's note: theres no need to apologize! detail is actually really nice because it makes writing the story better

Years of being under the spotlight has given the idol a lot to learn. After being harassed from dating a junior, being bashed for a member being kicked out of their group, and losing a friend where she was forced to hide her own depression, she’s learned how privacy would always be intruded by many.

At first, she didn’t want to think too much into the relationship she had with you. You were someone she met at some cafe, as cliche as it sounded. She accidentally poured her drink all over your shirt and she ended up apologizing profusely and insisting to buy you a new shirt.

She found comfort in you for the little time you spoke when picking out a shirt. You knew who she was, yet you treated her like a regular person, something she’s been wishing for in a long while. When she realized that you were someone she could talk to, she asked for your number and if it was okay to meet again without the accident, and you happily agreed.

When she started to fall for you, her fear started coming back, too.

She had to be professional about it, but she also didn’t want to lose you. So she kept those feelings down and tried to be as normal as possible around you, though she couldn’t help it when butterflies would swarm inside her stomach whenever she saw you and how the world seemed brighter when you smiled or laughed

It put her at ease.

So one night, she thought that maybe it would be okay to just be herself around you and her feelings poured out of her like a waterfall. It would have been alright if you rejected her, that would have been much easier. But instead, you initiated the kiss right after she told you and all things came flying out the window.

You weren’t too bothered with having to keep the relationship a secret and she appreciated that. She could just enjoy her time with you in private.

But not all things last forever since two years after, Dispatch decided to come and ruin her life once more. There have been some pictures of the two of you, but your faces were always covered due to Taeyeon’s request. It kept you protected and even if people noticed her, they wouldn’t know who was with her.

“I know, Tae. I just wished we could do something else.” You sighed while you sat on the couch, fingers running through your hair whilst she crossed her arms, lips pursed together. “We can but... just not now. It’s too risky.” She says and you know because you’ve already heard this before.

The conversation has been reoccurring, much more now with Dispatch keeping a close eye on her.

It irritated you.

Yes, you knew that this was going to happen when you first started seeing each other. But you didn’t think that you would nearly be on house arrest just for it. It felt suffocating and restraining and it wasn’t healthy, to either of you.

“Then why don’t we just tell them. At least that way, we don’t have to keep hiding.” Her head whips to you, looking at you as if you had grown a second head. “Y/n, the reason I don’t want us going out is that they don’t find out.” She emphasizes and it doesn’t help your frustration.

“Then what are we supposed to do? Even coming here is risky for you because everyone knows you don’t live her. If people saw you, that’s it. And then what?” You finally snapped. “I can’t go out to see you, we can’t be seen together, then what’s the point?” Your words made her heart rate rise. It was scaring her because it sounded like there was only one way out of this, if she chose not to come clean.

“I’ve told you, I’m doing this to protect you.” She breathes out and you stare at her with a frown, doing your best to stay calm with the situation you were both in. “I don’t need you to protect me, Tae. I am more than capable of handling myself.” You tell her, voice lower compared to your outburst earlier.

“I don’t want them to start sending you hate or threats. I don’t want them to suddenly walk up to you and potentially hurt you. You mean too much to me for that to happen and I can’t forgive myself if something bad happened to you because of me.” Tears were threatening to come from her eyes, but she didn’t want to let them out. “If you do, then you would have enough faith in me and our relationship than the fear of what everyone else will say or do.” You reason, standing up and then walking towards the bedroom.

Taeyeon was left in the living room, staring quietly at the spot you once occupied and let out a deep breath. She had to run her fingers through her hair, doing her best to brush her exhaustion and anxiety away. This was one of the things she wanted to avoid, yet here she was.

Looking at the bedroom, she chewed on her lower lip before she shook her head and walked inside. With a quick look at you, back to her with the blankets pulled up to your chin, she slipped in behind you, doing the same and curling up under the covers.

..

The next day was a little calmer compared to last night. When Taeyeon woke, she saw that you were already awake and had breakfast prepared, though after a little panic of waking up alone in bed.

Sometime during the night, you both ended up tangled together, bodies close, without realizing. And when you woke up, that was the same position you were in. It made your chest tighten because as much as you wanted to keep this relationship going, it was too tiring for both of you.

"Good morning." Her voice was gentle, careful as she entered the dining room and sat down while you offered her a small smile. "Good morning." You greeted back while taking a sip of your coffee.

There was a pause and you both have to admit that this was one of the most awkward breakfasts you've ever had. Neither of you could look each other in the eyes, and neither knew what to actually say. But thankfully, her phone rang and stole her attention away, and judging by the grimace on her face, you could only guess who it was and what it was about.

“Go ahead. I’m going to work, soon.” You tell her, picking at your food since you didn’t really have the appetite to eat anything and Taeyeon bit her lip. “Y/n, I’m really sorry about last night but I will fix this. I promise.” She tells you, reaching for your hand to give it a squeeze and you try not to sigh and give her a weak smile. “Okay.”

Taeyeon left your place with hesitance. She drove all the way to SM, thinking about what could possibly happen and what she could do. She didn’t want to keep hurting you like this, it was unfair. And then your words from last night echoed in her head when she got to the parking lot.

Staring at the wheel, her hands went loose before dropping to her lap. She had to take a minute and actually think of this whole thing. If she kept hiding you away, these fights would only keep on escalating and the risk of losing you was slowly rising, too. But if she did come forward and told everyone, the possibility of them hurting you scared her beyond belief, but you convinced her that you were capable of protecting yourself and she knew firsthand that you could.

It was just a battle between her own fears and she wasn’t sure which side she would be taking. Glancing at her phone, she sees the picture she took of you when you were sound asleep next to her.

Looking at it now, she knew that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you. It was just something she hasn’t told you yet.

At that moment, she grabbed her things and finally exited her car to go and get this meeting over with, her head held high as she steeled her resolve. She wasn’t losing you. That, she was certain of.

..

Coming home after a tiring day, you kicked your shoes off before dragging your body over to the bedroom, dropping your keys on the counter as you passed, but your hand stopped mid air when you saw Taeyeon sitting on a chair, wringing her hands together. When she finally looked up to meet your gaze, she gave you a smile before standing up.

“You’re back.” She breathed out and you blinked in confusion, slowly putting your hands on the table while she bit her lip and then carefully handed her phone to you, an article pulled up that was dated today, published just a few hours ago. “What’s this?” You ask hesitantly and she just gives you a pleading look.

You look down, immediately seeing the picture of your girlfriend but was quickly followed by the one you were both in and you already felt your breath hitch in. After a quick glance at her, you let yourself read the contents of the article, slowly feeling your muscles grow less tense when you saw that Taeyeon had confirmed the rumors of her seeing someone.

“You...” You choked out while putting her phone down and she let out a breath. “I thought about what you said and... you were right, that I shouldn’t let other people control how my life goes.” She looks at you, her eyes shining as she reaches for your hand like she did that morning.

Taeyeon has endured so much throughout her career, but all the hardship brought her to where she is now. It was what brought her to you and she believes that maybe this is what life planned out for her. With a steady gaze, she squeezes your hand. “I want to be with you. I want to live the rest of my life with you.”

Your eyes softened as you took in her form. Your girlfriend was truly an admirable person and you just wanted to take all that suffering away from her. But it also moved you how she was willing to tell people that she was dating again even after what happened before. But the last bit made you freeze while analyzing her features, trying to see a sense of doubt, but there was none.

She stared at you with nothing but certainty and love and it was enough for you as you pulled her into you and pressed a long kiss against her lips, one she happily accepted with her arms wrapping around your neck.

You would both be okay, even through the hate. She had always been afraid, but now she was more than willing to risk this career. Because unlike this, you gave her a sense of comfort and security.

She would be damned if she gave that happiness up.

#girl group #girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #girls generation #girls generation scenarios #girls generation imagines #girls generation taeyeon #taeyeon girls generation #kim taeyeon #taeyeon #taeyeon scenarios #taeyeon imagines

[imagine-nation20]

Never Be as Charming

Summary: “Normal is a myth.”

Requested by: Anon

Request:“Normal is a myth.” with Jason Todd please! Could the reader have umbrakinesis powers (manipulating darkness/shadows)

A/N: Wow, I love Jason so much?? And that is such a cool power? This request was so fun to write. Also, I didn’t know if you wanted Titans Jason or not, since you didn’t specify, so it isn’t. If you want Titans Jason, you’re going to have to specify, since I feel more comfortable writing Red Hood Jason, and I’ll always assume it’s Red Hood if not otherwise stated.

(Also totally forgot that I had this finished in my drafts. Its not as good as I would like it to be but oh well.)

~~~

Taking a deep breath, you jumped from one building to the next, keeping pace with the vigilante next to you. His strides were longer, but you were faster, easily matching his speed. Your gear weighed you down, but you were used to it. 

Your boots weren’t heavy like Jason’s, built more for speed and stealth than his steel toed shoes. Other than that, you were dressed in similar leather pants and Kevlar vests. The black thermal underneath helped to insulate and keep you warm. Your jackets were another point of difference, his being a light brown, and yours black with red stripes down the arm, and your symbol spray painted on the back, courtesy of Cass.

Jason paused, feet digging into the gravel crunching beneath his feet. His hand came up, flying in front of you to signal to wait. Below, the sounds of shouts and banging met your ears.

“Looks like Sionis is moving some heavy cargo,” Jason said, peering over the edge of the building. You followed, glaring at the men through your mask.

“What do you think it could be?” You asked, moving back to pull out your guns and check them. They were always ready, but you liked to do last minute checks before every fight if you could.

“Nothing good,” Was all Jason said, looking back at you. “What are you doing with those?”

You rose a brow, clicking the slider lock open and watching as the slider moved back into place. “Checking my guns? Why?”

“Well, it’s not like you need them.”

Ah, that. He was right, and you knew that. You really never needed any weapons due to your relatively new powers--you had gotten them three years prior in an accident involving an escaped Arkham patient--and they were enough to take out most of the people you went up against by themselves. The problem you found was that you hated using them. Not because you feared relying on them, but because you feared what they could do, should they get out of control.

“I don’t want to rely on them, Jay,” You excused yourself, trying not to look him in the eye. You knew that he didn’t believe you, but it seemed he didn’t want to get into it on a roof above an illegal deal. He turned back, waving you off.

“Just, teleport down there and see what they’re moving, would you?”

You didn’t bother fighting. Slinking back into a nearby shadow, you felt the familiar pull of your powers as you transported yourself down behind a stack of crates. You made sure to keep a heavy shadow over the area you were hiding in, as you slid a lid off of one of the boxes.

Inside, shiny silver guns with glowing bits of blue energy pulsated. They looked alien, but more importantly, they looked ready to blow at the slightest mishandling.

You signaled Jason down as quick as you could, getting to work on dispatching the criminals around you. You refused to use your power further, instead taking out the remaining group with good old-fashioned bullets instead.

Jason took notice, but you ignored his confused look.

~~~

The sun was peeking out over the horizon, signalling dawn, when you and Jason made it back to your shared apartment. The guns had been dropped off somewhere the Justice League would find them.

He hadn’t said anything on the way. His helmet hid his face from view, making it impossible to even try to read his face. Not that it was hard to do in the first place. Jason liked to think he was a stoic and uncaring person, but he never could manage to hide it when face-to-face with someone.

You only dared to speak once you were safely back in your shared apartment; masks discarded on the table and blinds closed tight. Jason flicked a switch on the wall, lighting up the small and cluttered apartment. 

“I know this is probably a can of worms I don’t want to open, but why are you so silent?” You asked, moving to the couch to sit and relax your sore muscles. Jason remained silent. “Oh, great, you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” It was a short, clipped response, but a response nonetheless. 

“Then why are you so quiet?” You tried again. Jason wore his heart on his sleeve, but he hated when others acknowledged it or asked. He hated explaining himself. You knew, though, that leaving it would only make it worse; as did Jason.

He sighed, “Why are you so against using it?”

Ah, so that was what this was about.

“Because it’s dangerous, Jay,” You tried to approach the conversation as cautiously as possible, knowing how frustrated Jason could get when he didn’t understand why someone did something.

You could hear him rummaging around the kitchen, opening the fridge and closing it again.

“So is a gun.”

“A gun doesn’t blow up half a city block.”

“That was years ago! You have it under control now.”

“What if I don’t?” It came out as a harsh whisper. “What if I lose control and I hurt you? What if, instead of half a city block, it’s a whole city? What then, Jay?”

A cabinet closed, and his footsteps came closer until he was right behind you. A ceramic bowl of ice cream came into view. Jason’s hand had wrapped around you to place it in your lap. He followed, coming around the couch to plop down beside you.

“Then we will work on it until you can feel safe. Until you feel normal again.”

“Normal is a myth, y’know? No one is normal, Jay. Most people just aren’t ticking time bombs,” You took a large spoonful of ice cream, glancing over at your boyfriend.

He chuckled, “Well aren’t you lucky that the old man taught me how to defuse bombs?”

“That was terrible,” You snorted, leaning into his side. “Might just have to get it under control so I don’t have to hear anymore of your cheesy lines.”

“How about ‘You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you’?”

“You’ll never be as charming as Mr.Darcy, and some day, you’ll just have to accept that, Jay-Bird.”

“Never.”

#jason todd x reader #Jason Todd #jason todd oneshot #dc oneshot #dc x reader #red hood oneshot #red hood x reader #red hood

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Angst then comfort?

I, uh, decided to go heavy with the angst. This is sort of a “What if?” take on Closing the Loop, which features Toshinori breaking the universe to save Nana. I got a comment asserting that Toshinori definitely tried a loop on his own, and, well... anon, you provided me with a good excuse to write it!

//

When Toshinori throws everything into a punch to save himself and Gran Torino, he is thinking, ‘I want to save everyone! I want to go back to when we were happy, and safe, and—!’ One for All sparks through his veins, a fiery if muted resolve that lets Toshinori break space and time.

He guesses even One for All has its limits. Toshinori would have liked to have landed before All for One murdered Shimura Sakumo and made oshishou look sad and drained, dissatisfied with all her shortcomings when she encouraged him to review, accept, and move past his. But it’s better to land in the middle of dinner than, say, in media res on the boat to Ekusegoru.

This time-loop thing bites. The trope seems so cliche in media. The set of conditions to end it, simple.

Toshinori sees All for One shove his hand through Gran Torino’s chest, the viscera clinging to the neatly-pressed black sleeve of his blazer and his pointed fingers, and has the very distant thought that he’s responsible for it. If he’d been smarter, he could’ve remembered where the hostage was when asked, and then Gran Torino would not be dead, and oshishou would not be screaming her terror and loss and fury—

One for All resets. Gran Torino is whole again, and so is oshishou, who is running a loop behind.

Toshinori is trying to think logically, like how Gran Torino taught him to be. It makes sense to warn oshishou of their mistakes; it makes sense that somewhere in the universe, there is a way that leads Toshinori to saving both of his mentors.

Oshishou wrestles with Gran Torino. She is not taking the spar seriously, and Gran Torino is clearly indulging her need to expend the nervous energy. Toshinori watches from the sidelines and wonders how two people in love can be so blind; sometimes, he wonders if his existence as oshishou’s successor prevents them from voicing it.

The boat. Ekusegoru. A swift, almost surgical strike to the heart of the empty city.

He snatches the hostage and leaps to the roof of a nearby building. He should get her back to the boat, post-haste, and add his strength to the fight. Maybe that’s what’s missing.

“Ma’am,” Toshinori says, distractedly, “you should brace yourself.”

“Wh—”

He’s not as fast as Gran Torino, and he lacks the ability to remove his considerable mass from the equation. So Toshinori jumps, kicks off the sides of buildings, ascends. He gains a vantage point that lets him see Gran Torino’s yellow cape streaming away from the center of the battle, and the concern blooms, malignant and malicious.

Toshinori changes directions to follow. Almost loses them for a bit, and then Toshinori wishes he had, because he’d rather have been ignorant than witness oshishou, sprawled broken against Gran Torino, the silvered head bowed with something like grief and resignation—

Toshinori screams. He doesn’t realize that the hostage has slipped her hand in his.

One for All resets. Oshishou is whole again, and Gran Torino looks so exhausted and fragile, hugging them both and breathing raggedly. Oshishou is just realizing the cause for their second loop, and Toshinori’s brain is whirling.

Logically, the loop is resetting after his mentors are dying. The solution is not their sacrifice.

One for All resets. The solution is not to eliminate All for One.

The solution is not to run away to oshishou’s place either, but Toshinori thinks the idea has merit. Gran Torino is burdening himself to solve this, and he needs time to recuperate. And if oshishou can connect to the spiritual nature of One for All, perhaps all she needs is time to really hash things out with the Quirk.

It provides him an opportunity to try another solution as well. He’s the consistent reason for their deaths, no matter that All for One wields the knife. Toshinori runs away, every single goddamn time, even though he’s the one who’s used One for All to break the world.

I want to save everyone, he had wished. A monumental effort that requires a monumental sacrifice.

Toshinori obediently moves from the couch to the spare bedroom oshishou had set aside for him. He hears her bedroom door click shut, and waits a breathless five minutes before getting to his feet. His bedroom window is just wide enough for him to wriggle out of, but first he needs his gear.

Gran Torino has tried to teach him how to sneak.

Sneaking is a lot easier with a fake excuse. Toshinori judges the distance from the kitchen to the front door, and hopes that oshishou is too distracted—ack, gross, gross, even if Gran Torino is unbelievably sweet and stupid—to think about his footsteps to the kitchen.

He roots around for a mug and switches on the kettle. Tensely, Toshinori waits for oshishou to peek out and double-check on him.

When that doesn’t happen, he darts for his gear. Boots and cape. His wrist bracers and belt are still on. Toshinori wraps his shoes in the fabric and lobs the package through his bedroom door onto his bed; it lands with a muffled thwmp.

Toshinori makes tea. He carries it carefully back, and sets it down on his desk. He listens for the soft murmuring of their conversation, and hears nothing. Not even a snore.

Time to go.

There aren’t any alternatives to reaching Ekusegoru. He’s only eighteen; he’s an intern to a nobody pair of pro-heroes; he doesn’t have money to hire some unsuspecting captain. So Toshinori puts on his brightest smile and charms the hell out of the crew.

“It’s only a recon,” he laughs. “Oshishou and Torino-sensei think I should get some experience with a solo patrol, y’know?”

The captain is visibly uncomfortable by the change. “All Might, are you absolutely sure that your teachers want you to do this alone? Maybe I should call the agency.”

“They’re preoccupied with something else,” Toshinori lies, smiling. “A really dangerous villain tried going for the archives and is trying to go underground, and they dispatched me to take care of this while they dealt with that.”

“Huh,” mutters the captain, tugging the brim of her cap. “They trust you a lot.”

“I’m top of my class.”

“Kids these days…”

And she takes him to Ekusegoru. Toshinori chafes his hands together and tries to think about a strategy. He can’t kill All for One. That resets the loop. At the same time, giving his oshishou’s greatest enemy—Japan’s greatest threat—One for All is definitely not on the table. Toshinori needs to die, and the best way to do that is to goad the bull.

If this doesn’t work, he tries to comfort himself, then the loop will simply reset, and his mentors will be none the wiser.

If this does work—well. Not like Toshinori will have to face the consequences anyway.

He enters the empty city, hyper-aware that he is walking into a trap without the certain possibility of a safety net. He sprints for the heart, channeling all his desperation and resolve, pulling on One for All in a way that burns.

The world looks sharper. It looks a little smaller. His suit stretches to the point of tearing a little. Toshinori doesn’t have time to gauge the differences; his body moves instinctively, and he slams into the warehouse shouting, “All for—!”

He freezes.

All for One looks at him coolly, with disinterest. The hostage is discarded on the floor, dead. Her wrists and ankles are untied; in the previous loops, she’d been forced to her knees, and the dread of disobeying her captor were all the restraints needed.

“The intern,” All for One names.

“All Might,” he corrects. Toshinori forces his feet into moving, forces himself to circle All for One instead of leaping directly to extract the body.

All for One doesn’t even turn to keep him in sight. “Shimura’s stray, ready for a fight that he shouldn’t even know about. Aren’t protocols for recon to check the perimeter and then investigate?”

Don’t freeze. Don’t stutter. Goad the bull and allow yourself to be gored by the horns.

“Even the blind could tell this was a trap,” Toshinori retorts. “Your reign of terror is over, All for One.”

“Oh? You know who I am?” All for One’s voice saddens, sweetens. “I knew the woman was a fool, but I hadn’t taken her to be cruel enough to force a child into this vendetta. You’re her successor, aren’t you? Number eight?”

Toshinori lunges at All for One’s back.

It’s a short fight. He gets curb-stomped, for lack of a better term, even though his body moves faster, endures better, hits harder. All for One is an opponent he hasn’t been prepared to face; oshishou prioritized running away and survival for him. For good fucking reason, apparently.

“You’re a hundred years too early to be challenging me,” the enemy chides. Toshinori can barely hear past the pain of being broken and bloodied and bruised.

“Asshole,” he curses.

“You know how this works. Give me One for All, and all this ends.” All for One’s grin is wide and manic with victory. His hand settles over Toshinori’s heart; Toshinori’s pulse is going rabbit-quick with fear. “I must thank Shimura before she dies. It’s always such a hassle, knowing the wielders’ luck in finding successors right before I can retrieve my Quirk.”

“It’s not yours,” Toshinori denies. It won’t be. I won’t. I won’t break.

“It was mine before you existed. Mine to give, and mine to take back.” All for One pulls out a pager. “Now, will you be a good hero and give me One for All, or shall I message Shimura that you’re my hostage? She’ll die for nothing, and I promise, I will make you watch her death.”

Goad the bull and allow yourself to be gored by its horns.

He wonders how much time has elapsed. Two hours total, for the boat to return to the mainland, get oshishou and Gran Torino, and come back. By then, the five hours allotted to them by the time-loop will have run out.

“Why are you such an asshole,” he says, wheezing.

“I’m righting the wrongs of the world. I need power to do it. Power, that comes from your stolen Quirk.” All for One presses the hand on Toshinori’s chest down, and something is creaking. Something is breaking. Unbidden, tears mix with sweat and grime and blood. “You understand. All Might. A man after my own philosophy.”

“No—”

“You want justice and equality. I’m going to provide that.”

“You monologue too much,” Toshinori spits, and All for One sighs.

“Well. We have time.” The pressure on his chest relents, and All for One backhands him—

One for All resets. Toshinori wakes to the scent of oden, savory and nauseating, and he understands now why Gran Torino is always moving violently after a loop. He should hide the trauma; he can’t unnecessarily burden them with the knowledge; he understands why Gran Torino didn’t want to tell oshishou.

He falls off the stool.

“All Might!” Oshishou immediately slips off her seat and kneels on the ground beside him, and the worry in her expression—Toshinori’s hyperventilating, burning with shame and terror, and he wants—

“Oshishou,” he sobs, gasping, and her cape falls over their heads, curtaining them off from the world. It’s the first time he’s been subject to the use, and he gets why oshishou wants to register the cape as a shock blanket. It’s very effective.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, you’re safe,” she says, soothing. “You’re okay, Toshinori.”

“Oshishou, I’m—I’m so sorry—I’m—”

He’s glad, in a way, that another loop has been triggered. It means that One for All is generous. It does not want anyone to die; it’s following his wish. One for All wants everyone to be saved, and is willing to reset time until they learn sacrifice is not the name of the game.

Toshinori hugs her, repeating his apologies. Her hug is firm, and gentle, and kind; she continues to reassure him, even though it must be increasingly awkward to break down in public like this.

Eventually, he collects himself. He can cry later. Probably in the office, as a defensive measure when Gran Torino inevitably wrangles the story out in the debrief.

Because Gran Torino will tell oshishou that they napped the last loop away. And no nap should result in Toshinori crying and having a panic attack. Therefore, he’s done something traumatic and he needs to tell them.

This needed to be tested though. Toshinori could never forgive himself for being too much of a coward not to try, and his mentors wouldn’t have given him permission.

(There’s an unspoken agreement, after, that the loop will be spent recovering. Five hours is not nearly enough time to gloss over the memory of All for One, but Toshinori is sandwiched between his mom and—and his dad—and even though Sorahiko seethed over Toshinori’s inherited ideals of martyrdom, Sorahiko was the one to call for a dogpile.

Of course, Sorahiko is a hypocrite who goes to confront All for One on his own. Oshishou is much smarter, if bitter, and she tells Toshinori, “I am going to talk to One for All, and I am going to figure out how to end this cycle.”

Toshinori feels hope rise, and he believes her.)

#bnha #yagi toshinori #all might #all for one #shimura nana #torino sorahiko #gran torino #shih.txt #asks #anon #closing the loophole!fic #tw violence #tw temp character death #man. i really let this guy survive the fic.

[linoholic]

mafia!Minhyun

Requested: anon asked:  Can I request a angst and fluff Wanna One's Hwang Minhyun mafia au scenario?? Thanksss❤❤❤❤❤

Pairing: Wanna One/Nu’est Minhyun x Reader

Genre: mafia!au

Warnings: violence, blood, mentions of alcohol

I structured this slightly differently than usual. I think it turned out alright but feel free to say if it is rubbish lol

The first time you saw him was at work

You were behind the bar serving customers when a group of people walked in, heading straight for the VIP section

The eyes of everyone in the club glanced towards them, some wary, some quick obviously checking them out

It was a group of ten, some you knew and some you had never seen before

You recognised Jisung, Woojin, Sungwoon and Seungwoo

It would be kind of embarrassing to not recognise your bosses after all

The club you worked at was theirs, or rather, the mafia’s; the one they were the top dogs of

Five of the other guys were much older and the exact image of what one thinks when they hear “korean mob”

It was the last guy that stood out to you though

He was sticking by Jisung’s side instead of walking with the other ‘guests’

And he was much younger and much more handsome than the five older guys

For a second you think that he might be a new recruit, but you know that if he was there was no way he would be included in the important business you knew would be taking place

You catch Sungwoon’s eye, who winks at you in greeting before discreetly signalling to you to serve them

Pushing the thoughts of the new guy to the back of your mind, you focus on your job, grabbing eight crystal glasses and the finest whiskey, nodding for a coworker to take over before walking down the short hall to the private room

Knocking on the door, you hear Jisung say “come in”

Walking in, you immediately get down to work pouring everyone drinks before going to stand quietly in the corner

Now, it may seem like a boring job and that you are simply there to serve, but the truth is, that isn’t your full job

You see, you are an informant

You get information from the people you serve and pass on that which you deem important to the others in the 101 mafia

It wasn’t what you had intended on doing

A year ago you were a normal psychology major in college; with exams, friends, crushes and so on

But then your younger brother became ill; very ill

The poor thing was only six years old when he was hospitalised, never straying far from the paediatrics ward

Eventually you had to drop out of college, any money you family had went towards the hospital bills

You had decided to get a job or two; which led you to the bar

There was an open position as bartender, which you had managed to get as a part time job

At first you were simply that, a bartender

It was Chungha, a member of  IOI, a subgroup of 101 that deals with their casinos that noticed your potential

Long story short, you quit your other part time jobs in order to become a member of 101, earning more from it than you were from rushing around working a million little jobs at once

Which brought you to where you were now, in the corner of the room, keeping an eye on the guests

Because another part of your job was to keep close watch on people 101 brought in for business

You would be able to watch for any signs of lying or nervousness without it being suspicious, considering you were just a server to them, to be neither seen nor heard except for when you were pouring their drinks

Wanna One were the Arms division of the 101, dealing with weapons and combat

And currently you were watching them attempt to make some sort of trade with the five guys

Everything is going swell, and your eyes keep drifting from the men to the handsome form of the other stranger seated between Woojin and Seongwoo

He looks comfortable with the Wanna One members, not tense at all which makes you think that he has known them for a while, and is definitely not new

Taking your eyes of the mystery man, you look back at the other five just in time

The whole group’s pretending to laugh, and it looks like the whole deal is going well

But you manage to catch one of the guests slowly reach for something behind his back

You catch a glimpse of a silencer on a pistol, and you quickly drop a glass on the floor, the signal that there is trouble

The boys immediately jump into action and a fight breaks out, glasses get shattered; punches are thrown; legs are kicked

One of the guys spots you in the corner and heads over to you and tries to grab you

Before he manages to touch you, you manage to disorient him by hitting him over the head with your metal tray

He quickly recovers however, and you are starting to wish you took up Daniel’s offer of self defence training when the man looks at you with a snarl, and you take a couple of steps back, closing your eyes as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small revolver, aiming it straight at your heart

His trigger fingers twitches and a shot rings out

You open your eyes when you don’t feel any pain though, immediately seeing why

In front of you stands the mystery man, holding his side, blood starting to seep through his fingers

He slowly sinks to the floor as the shooter is quickly dispatched by Woojin, and you kneel by his side, pulling off your over shirt and pressing it to the wound, talking to him to keep him awake

Through gasping breaths, he manages to say “You’re alright?” and you scoff slightly at him worrying about you, but still you answer

His fox like eyes scan your body, and seemingly satisfied that you were telling the truth and are unhurt, he starts to lose consciousness

The other guys quickly surround him, Seongwoo and Woojin picking him up

You watch as they take him out, and pretty soon you are alone in the room with Sungwoon

Looking around the room, you take notice of the mess

The couches and tables are upturned, glasses shattered, five bodies lay on the floor and here and there blood pools are staining the carpet

Upon seeing the blood, you look down at your own body, seeing the mystery man’s own blood covering your hands and torso

Slowly, people start filtering into the room, dragging out the bodies and starting the clean up process

Sungwoon comes up behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder

“Minhyun will be okay. It’s not the first time he’s been shot. And I’m sorry you got so involved. This was meant to be a quick and easy trade.”

Nodding, you smile at him, assuring him you’re fine

But you make a mental note of the man’s name

Minhyun

~

The second time you see him is at the hospital

That morning you had met up with friend and fellow 101 member Jaehwan for breakfast, during which he had told you all about Minhyun

You had found out that the man had been in Japan with the a small sub group of 101, Nu’est, who were basically 101′s ambassadors in Japan

He had been there for a year, having left just before you had joined, which explained why you hadn’t seen him before

Jaehwan had also told you the hospital and room number that he was being kept in, before he saw you off while wiggling his eyebrows

Which brought you to where you were now, standing in front of Minhyun’s hospital room with a bouquet in one hand, the other in the air, poised to knock on the door as you hesitate

You go ahead and knock though, and the next thing you know you are standing at his bedside, Minhyun looking at you with a small smile on his face as you stand there awkwardly

Holding out the flowers, you say "I got these for you. As a sorry you got shot for me but thank you for not letting me get shot"

Minhyun let's out a small laugh, going to sit up but immediately starts holding his side, groaning in pain

Dropping the flowers onto the chair beside you, you immediately go to help him, allowing his to use you as a support as you prop up the pillows behind him

 "Thanks y/n," he says, causing your eyes to widen slightly

 "You know my name?"

 " Mmm-hmm. The guys have told me about you. They insist that you make the best martinis and tell the best gossip" he says, a small grin on his face

 "Well then, when you get out, drinks are on me then. It's the least I can do after all"

Obviously Minhyun notices the guilty look in your eyes, as he takes your hand and gently pulls you to sit on the bed beside him

 "I chose to do what I did, and I would do it all over again if need be. You have no reason to blame yourself"

 He looks straight into your eyes as he says this, and you can see the sincerity in his words and that he really doesn't blame you even the slightest bit

Nodding, you to go stand up but Minhyun doesn't let you move

 "If you are still feeling guilty though, you can make up for it by spilling the tea on what the boys got up too while I was away, because I doubt they told me everything"

For the next few hours you chat with Minhyun

At some point you and up sitting cross legged on his bed across from each other, legs tucked under the blanket to stave off the chill of the hospital room, only moving when nurses come in to change his dressings or top up his medication, shyly averting your eyes when you catch a glimpse of his bare torso

You even end up eating lunch with him, one of the nurses kindly bringing you food as well as him

She does call you his significant other, but other than blushing you and Minhyun don't say a word to contradict her for fear of you being thrown out

It's the early afternoon when more people come to visit

Jaehwan walks in the room, followed by Jinyoung and Daehwi

You can bet on them making fun of the fact that the nurse thinks you're together despite the fact that you have only just met each other

And they are most definitely going to tell everybody back at hq about it too

And so you take them arriving as your cue to leave, among excuses about how you have to get ready for work

You don't leave without Minhyuns phone number though

~

The tenth time you see him it is pouring with rain 

You are walking home after having visited your brother, who is thankfully started to look much better, the doctor saying that things are taking a turn for the better

And so despite being soaked through and looking like a drowned rat, you can't help but be in high spirits 

You good mood is quickly pressed down when a car slowly rolls alongside you, with the body and windows a matching black

Despite it being the usual time for rush hour, the streets are basically empty thanks to the downpour

Your minds immediately jumps to conclusions, and you are about to make a run for it, not feeling like getting kidnapped or killed, when the passenger side window rolls down and a familiar face comes into view

 "Get in loser, we're going shopping!" an unfamiliar voice shouts before you can say anything, and Minhyun simply grins, motioning to the back seat

Smiling, you open the car door and climb in, grimacing at the amount of water you bring in with you

 "Y/n, this is Minki. Sorry about him. We were passing by when I saw you and thought you might want a ride, "  Minhyun tells you

 "I appreciate it. And nice to meet you Minki"

Minki merely smiles at you before concentrating on the set road

You end up going back to their apartment with them after Minhyun invites you to join them for dinner

The minutes later you are sitting on Minhyuns bed with a towel round your shoulders, watching his back as he searches through his closet to find some dry clothes for you to change into

Through the t-shirt he is wearing, you can see the shape of his bandages and before you can stop yourself you're asking "Does it still hurt?"

 Minhyun turns to look at you before walking over and sitting down besides you

 "Only when I move or stretch too much. Otherwise I can hardly feel it," he reassures you, patting your hand

 For a moment the two of you just stare into each others eyes

It is only when Minki hangs on the door, shouting that the food has arrived that you jump apart

Minhyun stands up, rubbing the back of his neck and with his ears blowing red, he tells you to change and quickly leaves the room, leaving you and your blushing cheeks alone in private

That evening sees you and Minhyun curled up on the sofa watching the tv, Minki in the armchair discreetly taking photos of the two of you for use as blackmail

When you try to help clean up the mess from dinner, Minhyun refused to let you lift a finger, and Minki tells you to "leave him be, he enjoys it believe it or not. Something I do like about having him as a roommate."

 And when you try to leave to head home, Minhyun is adamant that you just stay the night instead, going on about how you all know better than anyone the dangers lurking in the dark

You and Minhyun argue for a while, him not wanting the guest to take the couch and you insisting that the man with an injury take bed

Minki ends up shoving you both into the bedroom, before heading into his own, slamming the door while shouting "just share! It's not like you bed is small after all"

~

The eleventh time you see him, sun is filtering through the curtains

It's golden hues illuminate his peaceful face, his soft dark hair falling across his forehead

He is lying on his back, his right arm bent across his chest, his left stretching across the bed towards you

You smile at the sight, staying still, wanting this moment to last a little longer before you slowly make your way out of bed

You have a quick shower and change into your own now dry clothes

When you walk out of the bathroom, you see Minhyun roll onto his side to look at you, a sleepy smile on his face

 "Good morning sleepyhead," you says

 "Mornin'"

 "Fancy getting some breakfast?"

 "Wait ten minutes? "

 "Not a second more" 

~

The fiftieth time you see him, your ears are ringing

Your sight is blurry and you can feel yourself drifting off into unconsciousness

You can't move your arm properly, and it hurts to breath even the most shallow of breaths

You can just about see the friendly faces surrounding you and you weakly smile as your faintly hear Minhyun calling your name

 "Thank you.." You say, before everything turns black

~

The fifty first time you see him you are sat with your little brother

A deck of cards is spread across the small table over your lap, a game of solitaire halfway completed

Your door slowly slides open and a face peeks in, lighting up upon seeing you awake

A bright grins spreads across your face, quickly dropping as your split lip tainted

Your brother looks upon the intruder with curiosity as they move closer, placing some flowers on your bedside table before joining the two of you on your bed and taking the hand that isn't in a sling

 "Who are you?" Your brother asks with a childish curiosity

 "This is Minhyun, my boyfriend," you answer, smiling as the man in question places a kiss on your forehead

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