dick grayson x reporter!reader, fem!reader, mentions of blood and swearing
“I just can’t believe Linda has given me the opportunity to photograph Dick Grayson. THE Dick Grayson!" Andy, your colleague and close friend gushed from next to you.
“He’s just one of Bruce Wayne’s wards, what’s so special about him?” You shrugged, reading through the fan questions submitted to your magazine website for the Waynes.
“Please tell me you know what he looks like,” Andy gaped from the passenger seat.
You just shrugged in response and underlined something.
“Okay I know you’re new and all but who doesn’t know Richard Grayson?” He pulled out his phone and typed something while having a whole conversation with you. “Didn’t Clark and Lois mention anything? They’re pretty close with the Waynes,” he added.
Lois and Clark. Your coworkers and best friends from when you were a measly intern at the Daily Planet just a few months ago.
You spent your interning days getting coffee for the editor, so it was safe to say that if you learned anything from your time at the Daily Planet was how to filter disgusting break room coffee just right so it could be drinkable. You knew more about shredding old reports in the mail room than you did about writing and whatever you learned about it, you had Lois to thank for.
She had been a mentor to you and when you missed your family, she had been the perfect sister. It had seemed like Clark was the one third wheeling you two most times.
You had wanted to work at the Daily Planet because you studied criminology along with journalism so you could report crime –not sort mail by the folder colours. But you spent a whole year there, waiting for your chance which never came and you needed the money because getting by on your internship paycheques was next to impossible.
So when you got a call back from the magazine company you applied to, you didn’t think twice before accepting.
Lois had been just as sad about you leaving Metropolis as you were but just like an older sister, she was happy for the opportunity you received.
It wasn’t your first choice but you had to make the ends meet.
Besides, in just a few months, you had made quite a name for yourself. Big enough for your editor to give you the cover story for the Wayne Family. With multiple long form interviews.
When your editor assigned you the job, you were torn to say the least. Not because you weren’t happy with the opportunity –you were. People begged for this job. It paid a ton but celebrity gossip wasn’t exactly what interested you. You were Lois Lane’s mentee, you wanted to write about crime and corruption which Gotham city was literally infested with.
But you also knew how rare of an opportunity this was and that it would bring you exposure you needed to maybe express to your editor what you wanted to write about.
So you put on your bravest smile, ran a questionnaire online to ask the citizens of Gotham if they had anything to ask Mr. Wayne or any of the Wayne family members.
It totally didn’t scare you. And it totally didn’t scare you even further when Andy told you that the last interview Bruce Wayne had done was when Andy was still in diapers. And your editor wanted you to write about him.
You had briefly mentioned it to Lois on facetime last week and Clark –who was cooking in the kitchen and also eavesdropping apparently, he had told you that Bruce wasn’t as scary as the media made him out to be.
You replied you would be the judge of that.
Which brought you here, in the parking lot of the Wayne Enterprises building, waiting for the clock to hit 2 PM when your interview was supposed to start.
“Look at his pretty eyes!” Andy cooed and handed his phone over to you with the screen filled with photos of a black haired blue eyed man.
Your eyes widened as you took in the sight in front of you. Wavy black hair, big blue eyes framed by long black eyelashes and a boyish smile that emphasised on his dimples. His nose had a bump on the bridge and with that face, you were guessing he played sports in high school.
Or maybe he still did because the next photo of him was shirtless and the hard lines of his muscles almost made you drop the phone.
It was a photoshoot from a couple of years ago, his hair was messy and falling over his eyes. His hand behind his head, the other on his abs. He was squinting at the camera with a lopsided smile. The waistband of his Calvin Klein’s peeking out of his low hung jeans, leaving nothing to your imagination.
Your eyes raked up his abs to his pecs then his neck and finally landed on his biceps. You bit your lower lip as you saw the faintest hint of a tattoo on his shoulder. It wasn’t fully visible which you thought was the appeal, leaving them wanting more and whatnot.
Another swipe brought you a photo of him with a redheaded woman with his arms around her shoulders while she buried her face in his chest and he kissed her forehead.
One more swipe, one more photo of him with a woman. This time with a blonde and they were stepping out of a limousine. You swiped again and this time he was with a black haired woman, eating ice cream in the pier like he was straight out of a romcom.
You rolled your eyes and swiped again only to be met with another photoshoot of him completely shirtless in bed and covered in lipstick marks.
It would have you dripping if you hadn’t seen the million photos with different women he had before this.
Another rich kid with daddy’s money who thinks he can sleep with anyone he wants.
“Ahem,” Andy coughed. “My phone please,” he grinned.
“Um yeah,” you shook your head and handed him back his phone.
“So he’s a spoiled rich kid who has never had to work a day in his life to earn money. So he does shirtless photoshoots every once in a while just to boost his ego or maybe get more people to sleep with him in case the rich thing doesn’t work,” you scoffed.
“Or the abs thing or the biceps thing or the hair thing,” Andy went on.
“Andy,” you sighed, shutting the cap of your highlighter. “He’s a client I’m supposed to interview and you’re supposed to take photos of. Nothing else.”
“Do you think I could convince Linda to let me take shirtless photos of him?” Andy asked.
“Sure buddy,” you smiled at him before pulling out the tube of lip gloss from your purse to touch up your make up.
“You ready?” Andy checked.
“Let’s do this,” you took a deep breath and dabbed your lips before getting out of the car.
You entered the building with Andy following behind you, holding his camera equipment. The two of you made your way towards the front desk when Andy suddenly whined out loud, making you look back at him.
“I forgot the extra reels in the car, go ahead I’ll catch up,” he muttered, handing you his tripod and jogged back towards the parking lot.
You shrugged and watched him run behind you through the glass doors. It wasn’t until your mindless steps caused the tripod –much taller than you to collide with someone that you finally looked.
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, looking at the man clad in a tailored suit. He quickly tipped his head back and covered his nose with his hand before letting out a string of curses. “Sorry I wasn’t looking! Are you okay?”
He finally looked down at you and his sharp blue eyes quickly turned softer, any hint of annoyance he might have had suddenly gone.
“A pretty little lady like you just broke my nose, the pleasure is all mine,” he grinned and leaned down to offer you his free hand.
“Oh um,” you blushed and collected your things in one hand before accepting his handshake. “I’m sorry,” you repeated and rummaged through your purse to pull out a tissue.
The man stayed leaning down and you stood on your tippy toes to press the tissue to his nose to stop the bleeding.
“That’s bleeding oh my god you’re bleeding,” you swallowed.
“It’s okay I’ve had worse,” he replied in a muffled voice due to half of his face still being covered.
“Um, I'll pay for the medical expenses!” You blurted out.
“That’s okay pretty,” he chuckled. “You can, however, pay me back with your phone number.”
“What?” Your eyes widened as you saw him pull out his phone. “Are you serious? I broke your nose and you’re asking for my number? Do you have a concussion?”
“Maybe your beauty has just hypnotised me,” he grinned through the blood now coming onto his lips.
“Hey!” Andy called out, running up to you. “Everything okay?” He checked and looked between you and the man.
“I broke his nose,” you sheepishly replied, “Let me call 911,” you pulled your phone out but the man suddenly grabbed your wrist, causing you to pause.
“I told you I’m fine, it’s probably not even broken anyway,” he shook his head.
“I can’t just leave you like this!” You protested.
“I told you how you can repay me,” he shrugged and just as you were about to reply, Andy’s phone went off.
“Shoot we’ll be late,” he muttered and took the tripod from your hands. “Come on.”
“I-” You glanced between the man and Andy who was now running towards the elevator. “I’m sorry I have a really important meeting,” you apologised and rummaged through your purse again to grab something.
That something turned out to be a wrinkled 20 dollar bill that you pressed in the man’s palm. “There you go!” You called out before running after Andy.
“Our first day here and you’ve already made an impression,” Andy chuckled, pressing the button for the floor you were supposed to meet the Waynes at.
“Gosh it’s my first cover story Andy and I’ve already injured someone. I can't do this,” you gasped once inside the elevator.
“Hey,” Andy’s voice turned softer as he looked at you. “I know you and you’re an amazing writer, you will ace this. You already apologised and offered to pay and he didn’t want it, what else could you have done?”
“You’re right,” you sighed. “I think I’m just nervous.”
“And it’s natural, just remember Dick Grayson is waiting in that room,” Andy grinned.
“Fuck off!” You laughed and elbowed him in the stomach.
“Ready?” Andy checked once the elevator came to a stop.
“Ready,” you nodded and stepped out of the elevator and into the office area.
You and Andy approached the front desk where Bruce Wayne’s assistant was sitting and flashed your ID cards at her, indicating that you were from the magazine for the interview.
She gave you a practiced smile and asked you to follow her to Bruce’s office. You two waited outside for a minute while she went inside and informed him about your arrival.
“I’ll be right here if you need anything,” she told you before stepping away from the double doors so you could go in.
“Thank you,” you smiled at her in return before closing the doors behind you and Andy.
The room was polished and squeaky clean. In fact, you could probably see your own reflection if you looked at the marble floors hard enough. There was a lounge area with a white couch and matching chairs along with a coffee table in the corner of the room. The massive space was however mostly filled out by a big desk in the middle of the room, pushed a bit towards the back wall that had tall bookshelves. There was a family portrait of Bruce Wayne and his parents you had guessed -right behind his desk chair.
You gave the room a once over before your eyes landed on everyone in the room and you realised just who you were interviewing.
There were four men currently in the room along with one woman. One glance at her told you she was supposed to be Bruce’s adopted daughter, Cassandra and her face told you she looked harmless enough.
What unnerved you were the men. Clad in suits.
The ratio was way off, you had never been around this many strange rich men alone before this and the fact that they were all wearing suits wasn’t really helping you.
It was a fine enough idea in practice but to actually be here on your own for a cover story of Gotham’s Royalty was beginning to dawn on you.
Your eyes drifted towards the chair Bruce was sitting in right behind his desk, clad in a grey and black suit sans the tie. His eyebrows were sharp, almost giving you the impression that he was mad but apparently that’s just how he looked.
Your gaze shifted towards his left and landed on a much much smaller boy sitting on a stool next to Bruce. He was wearing a green turtleneck under a brown suede jacket and his hair was standing straight in spikes, you guessed he was the youngest because of the sheer size of him so he must be Damian.
Behind him on the windowsill, sat another boy slightly bigger than Damian. He wore a red shirt with a black blazer as he perched on the windowsill with an iPad in his hand. Timothy, the second youngest.
Next was the boy in a leather jacket and dress pants who was sitting on an armchair next to his sister –Cassandra. He was busy in a conversation with her as they both kept talking over each other. You guessed he was Jason based on the leather jacket and the white streak in his hair that you’d read about once.
You didn’t get the chance to dwell on it though because Andy gave you a sharp pat on the back, urging you to talk.
“Hello!” You blurted out then side eyed Andy. “We’re here for the interview, pleased to meet you,” you smiled, introducing yourself and holding your hand out for Bruce Wayne to shake.
He got up from his desk and shook your hand with a less stern expression than before, “Bruce Wayne,” he nodded.
“Andrew,” Andy added, shaking his hand as well.
Bruce walked over to the couch with such an effortless grace in his body it was almost chilling. But he was born into this life, he probably had to learn how to do the rich people walk when he was probably three years old.
He gestured for you and Andy to join him and you quickly obliged, taking a seat on one of the chairs.
“Shall we begin?” You asked, pulling out your tape recorder and notebook.
“One of my sons is late, he’ll be here in a minute I’m sure,” Bruce said.
“Oh we can go over the basics until then?” You offered. “Just to prep you.”
“Sure,” he nodded and leaned back, spreading his arm over the backrest.
“Can you tell me yours and your family’s name?” You read from the list of questions in front of you and almost cringed at how it sounded but you were advised to always ask basic and easy questions first to get the interviewee in the zone –according to Linda, your boss.
“I’m Bruce Wayne, owner of Wayne Enterprises. I have four sons and a daughter. Richard, Cassandra, Jason, Tim and Damian. In that order,” came his curt response.
“I’m the only blood son,” Damian chimed in. “You should specify that.”
“Everyone knows that you twat, you keep saying it every chance you get,” Jason rolled his eyes.
Before Damian could come up with a harsher quip, the door swung open and stepped in Richard. Your eyes instinctively went to his face which was set in a hard expression –jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed.
His large frame was covered with black dress pants, perfectly tailored to fit him just right. He was wearing a light blue dress shirt over it, tucked neatly in his pants. The top two buttons were undone showing just a glimpse of his muscular chest. His suit jacket was draped over his forearm in a wrinkled heap.
You were beginning to understand how he got so many partners.
“Dick you’re late,” Bruce’s voice echoed.
“Yeah sorry,” he sighed a reply and walked over to the windowsill beside the couch and leaned back on it. “Had an accident,” he added and finally looked down at you.
His furrowed brows suddenly turned softer, giving his eyes a look of relief as his jaw involuntarily unclenched and morphed into an easy smile.
“Well hello there,” he smiled at you.
“Hi,” you shook yourself out of your trance and greeted him, “You must be Richard.”
“Richard’s fine,” you corrected, causing Jason to let out a whistle.
“Why do you have blood on your shirt?” Cassandra asked Dick.
“Ran into someone,” Dick replied and wiped his nose with a tissue, eyes never leaving yours.
That’s when the realisation dawned on you that it was Richard Grayson whose nose you broke.
Your eyes widened and with the way Dick was smirking he knew you finally caught on.
Your eyes went even more wide when you realised you not only broke his nose but also gave him a twenty dollar bill.
The same Richard Grayson who was quite literally a millionaire. Richard Grayson who you were supposed to be seeing almost every day for a week (more than that if needed).
How badly did you even want this job anyway? Sorting mail at the Daily Planet was surely better than your nightmare unfolding right in front of you.
“Oh my god,” you muttered under your breath, eyes still blown wide and staring at Dick.
“You okay?” Tim asked you.
“Yeah sorry,” you replied, quickly recovering from the moment’s mortification.
It was okay. It would be okay. You would apologise to Dick, offer to make it up to him so you could do your job and it would be OKAY. Because just the thought of going back to eating instant noodles for dinner three days in a row was enough to make you shake in fear.
You blinked once before your eyes found their way back to Dick who was now staring at you with his head tilted to the side, hands stuffed in the pocket of his pants while that infamous Dick Grayson smirk stayed prominent on his rosy lips.
“Pathetic,” Damian scoffed from the armrest of the couch, making your eyes widen.
“Sorry?” You asked in disbelief, looking at the scowling boy.
“Ignore him, he sniffs glue,” Jason drawled.
“He what-” You asked again, eyes going wide in complete confusion and surprise.
“He doesn’t, Jason is just a dick,” Tim rolled his eyes and plopped down next to Bruce on the couch.
“Hey don’t use my name as an insult,” Dick frowned from his perch on the windowsill.
Damian in response reached over Cassandra’s lap and flicked Jason’s forehead causing him to gasp in disbelief before he flicked Damian back on the nose.
Soon enough they were both giving each other light smacks over Cassandra’s lap before Dick finally grabbed the collar of Damian’s jacket and pulled him back.
“Guys cut it out!” Dick’s voice boomed, suddenly turning four octaves deeper.
His deep voice in that tone made you cross your legs despite yourself as you bit your lower lip and tried to stop your mind from going places that included Dick and his sexy voice murmuring things in your ear that would have you panting under different circumstances.
This is not what you should be thinking about right now.
“Sorry, please go on,” Dick turned towards you and flashed you another one of his smiles.
“Richard,” you reiterated, causing Cass and Tim to snicker among themselves. “It says you’re a philanthropist in Blüdhaven?”
“Yeah I’m kinda everywhere,” he chuckled.
“I do own an apartment there but I’m also here in Gotham most days,” he shrugged like it was normal to have multiple homes in different cities.
“Wow,” you muttered before you could stop yourself. “Rich people are just so troubled aren’t they?”
You saw Dick visibly retreat into the curtains as his face began turning pink.
You sure as hell wouldn’t apologise for that comment.
“So Mr. Wayne,” you began, looking at Bruce now. “What do you have to say in response to people recently claiming that you and your family don't use your wealth to help the citizens of Gotham?” you asked, reading from the notes.
“I would say we’re always working on doing more for the community, giving the city back in every single way we can. Martha Wayne foundation has been working hard with the homelessness issue the city deals with and we’re working each day to make it better.”
You nodded in response and quickly scribbled everything down while Andy flashed a few candid shots.
“For fuck’s sake please it’s Jason,” Jason cringed and you decided to stick with first names, refusing to go through the same thing over and over.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, a slow blush creeping over your face at Jason smirking at you. “Erm Jason, it says here that you-”
“Died? Yeah I did,” he clicked his tongue.
You stared at him with wide eyes but he just laughed in response, causing you to bite the inside of your lip in anxiousness.
They weren’t making this easy.
“Dude,” Dick muttered to Jason.
“Anyway,” you let out and turned towards Bruce instead and read off the questions submitted by people out loud without checking it first, “Mr. Wayne, your image as Gotham’s most eligible bachelor has been intact for years now, long before you even had children, do you…” you trailed off, eyebrows nearly shooting to your hairline at the intrusive question.
“Oh I’m sorry,” you quickly reiterated, “I don’t know why that was a question, you don’t have to answer that it’s so rude.”
Bruce’s lips twitched in response as his shoulders sagged which you took as a smile. He leaned forward and you straightened up as he looked directly at you with such intensity you could cry.
“Are you new?” He asked with a whisper of your name.
“Y-yeah I moved here from Metropolis, I was an intern at the Daily Planet,” you swallowed.
“Well,” he began. “You should know that’s all that anyone’s ever been interested in when it comes to Bruce Wayne.”
“Sorry let’s start again I’m sorry,” you shook your head.
“You don’t need to apologise so much,” Jason pointed.
“Right. Sorry,” you replied. “Shit,” you cursed before the realisation caused your eyes to widen at what you just said. “I didn’t mean to swear I mean- like not shit shit just. God I’ve said it again now I meant-”
“Do you have the afternoon off?” Bruce asked suddenly, cutting you off.
“Y-yeah,” you replied with a gulp.
“I have a meeting I need to attend. We can stick to writing about the work we do here and taking photos around the building for today if that’s okay with you.”
You knew what he was doing. And you weren’t too proud to not accept his offer.
“That works perfectly, thanks!” Andy quickly replied and grabbed your hand, practically dragging you out of the office.
“What’s going on with you!?” He whisper-yelled once you reached the elevator. “You never mess up like that!”
“I don’t know!” You cringed and covered your face with your hands.
“You broke Dick Grayson’s nose!” He exclaimed.
“I didn’t know!” You cried. “I’m so getting fired.”
“Wait up!” You heard someone call out from behind you.
You turned around and saw Dick, jogging towards you.
“Fuck he wants to fire me,” you muttered to Andy.
“Hi,” Dick grinned, stopping right in front of you.
“Hi,” you replied with a confused expression.
Great, now a man who has never had to work a day in his life was going to fire you and there was nothing you could do about it. It was going to do wonders for your ego.
“So you want someone to show you around the office? Everyone else will be in the meeting,” he offered.
“You’re not here to fire me?” You asked before you could stop yourself.
“Fire you?” Dick laughed. “Why would I fire you?”
“Because I broke your nose,” you grimaced.
“I told you, I’m fine,” he shrugged, offering you a practiced charming grin that he probably used to get out of all sorts of trouble.
“We would love it if you could show us around,” Andy went on before you could reply, earning a stomp of your heel on his shoe.
“Mr. Wayne has asked for Mr. Andrew to be present for the meeting in the conference room to take photos,” Bruce’s assistant popped her head out of the glass doors and smiled at Andy.
He grinned at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that you couldn’t decode. With a quick wave of his hands, he was off. Leaving you all alone with nothing but the anxiety in your stomach and a very handsome Dick Grayson.
“Let’s start our tour then,” Dick nodded and pressed a button on the elevator.
Once inside, he stood near the panel with you on the opposite wall.
He leaned back with one hand in the pocket of his pants, the other toying with his bottom lip that sported a lazy grin while his eyes were busy going up and down your frame.
His gaze took all of you in, beginning from your heels to the top of your stockings to the hem of your skirt to finally the littlest cleavage you showed in the fitted dress shirt you wore which clinged to your waist like a second skin.
You swallowed and clutched your folder tighter around your torso as if to shield yourself from his piercing gaze.
“Nice glasses,” Dick commented.
“Thanks,” you replied in a low voice and pushed them up your nose.
“Suit your face pretty well,” he went on.
“That’s why I chose them,” you bit your bottom lip to stop a smile from spreading on your face in case it gave him the wrong idea.
“You’ve got great taste then,” he said next.
“You could say that,” you nodded.
The elevator stopped, indicating that you had arrived on your floor. Dick gestured for you to step out first with a wave of his hand then followed behind.
“This is the front desk as you would have guessed, you spent quite a time here today,” Dick said, eyeing you with amusement.
“Right,” you replied and avoided his gaze.
“So,” Dick began, walking beside you towards the fountain in the centre of the building. “You drink coffee?”
“Yeah?” You replied in confusion.
“Wanna get one with me?” He offered.
“Oh no thanks,” you gently turned him down. “That’s nice of you.”
“Are you sure? I did get twenty dollars richer today," he urged and flashed the said bill in front of you.
You felt your entire face heat up at that as you looked down at your heels clacking against the polished floor. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
“It was perfectly on the right foot,” Dick argued. “Story of a lifetime, a pretty girl hit me in the face. Believe it or not, that doesn’t happen a lot.”
“I’m sure, Richard,” you held yourself back from rolling your eyes at his ego. You were supposed to be making amends with him, not let his ego piss you off.
“It’s Dick,” he corrected again.
“I would assume that’s a nickname and nicknames are reserved for friends, we are just coworkers for the week. So I’d rather call you Richard,” you explained.
“Extreme technicality," Dick mused. “But no, everyone calls me Dick even the people I don’t know, I haven’t gone by Richard since I was four and my mom called me that every time I pissed her off,” he chuckled.
“Must have been a lot then,” you muttered and fortunately, he didn’t hear you. Or he did and decided to ignore it.
You gnawed on your bottom lip and eyed his face before letting out an exasperated breath. “Okay, Dick.”
“There it is!” He beamed.
“How do you even get ‘Dick’ from Richard,” you asked, looking at him from the corner of your eyes as you two continued to walk around.
“Well you ask really really nicely,” Dick smirked.
“What- Oh,” you groaned. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I’m greatly offended now and the only way you’ll get me on your good side is by agreeing to get coffee with me.”
“You’re manipulating me,” you narrowed your eyes at his smug face.
“One of my many talents,” he replied.
“Do you flirt with everyone like this?” You asked with a raise of your eyebrow.
“Only with people who break my nose,” he quipped.
“Is it working?” He asked.
“Not in the least,” you clicked your tongue and swallowed the profanities threatening to spill out from you.
You were supposed to be professional here and he wasn’t even taking you seriously. You clutched the folder in your hands tighter as you recalled that his response to you hitting him in the face was a pick up line.
He hadn’t even assessed the injury before a flirty comment left his pretty mouth. You felt yourself getting mad at the permanent smirk on his face because he knew exactly what it did and he was trying it on you and it wasn’t exactly not not working on you.
“Damn it,” Dick huffed dramatically.
“You know you’re supposed to be showing me around so I can write about the work environment here,” you reminded him.
“You’re right,” Dick agreed. “Let’s begin at the food court where we can get that coffee we talked about.”
“Cheap food court coffee, really Mr. Grayson?” You chided with a click of your tongue. “I’d have assumed you had a black Amex card or something.”
“I'm saving that for Friday when we go on our date,” he shrugged.
“Oh, our date on Friday! Right,” you nodded along.
“See? We’re already on the same page.”
“Dick,” you said, making him look at you. “What are you doing?”
“Asking you out on a date,” he smiled, popping those dimples.
“And I’m politely rejecting you.”
“Why? Because I don’t want to,” you shrugged.
“There’s no reason Dick. Believe it or not, women can be immune to your charms,” you rolled your eyes, getting irritated at his ego.
“That hasn’t happened yet,” he mumbled.
“I’m sure,” you scoffed lightly. “We need to get back to work because I do have to work to make money.”
“Right,” he replied with a light shrug but on the inside, Dick was spiralling.
He stood frozen for a beat and eyed as you effortlessly chatted and smiled at the receptionist and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why you didn’t smile at him like that.
Instead he got an eye roll and a scoff.
He wasn’t the womanising ‘ladies man’ the media made him out to be. Every single shot of him that paps got with different women were often his friends –including Barbara and Steph. Those photos were posted online with extremely creative headlines which Dick always laughed at, often with Barbara and Steph.
But he also knew that he didn’t have a problem talking to people –everyone knew that. He had always loved talking to people, ever since he was a kid in the circus. He was often found talking to strangers and with his need to always put on a charming performance, people liked him back.
So when he got the feeling that for some reason you didn’t, he didn’t know how to take it.
Especially when he was quite taken by you. By your glasses and the way your skirt ended just above your knees, short enough to show the lace hem of your see through stockings.
Your glossy lips along with the stick peeking out of your perfectly done bun. He didn’t want to feel attracted towards two strands of hair falling on your face but he did and he sure as hell wouldn’t apologise for that.
And for whatever reason, his usual smiles didn’t work on you. Not even for a coffee.
He had thought it was the embarrassment of the accident you two had but clearly you didn’t seem like the type to dwell on things.
Surely it couldn’t be him.
He was a well liked and a quite attractive man and he wouldn’t deny that.
The whole day he tried shrugging it off. He told himself that you were probably just stressed or that you didn’t know him well enough that’s why you had turned him down. Or that maybe he had come on a bit too strong.
Either way he was going to make it right and he would earn a smile from you in return.
EEEK FIRST PART!! if it sucks im sorry i had to like establish the settings and all also i dont know shit about journalism and magazine writing so i’m sorry if i offended anyone with the wrong terminology haha oops
also its VERY loosely inspired by how to lose a guy in ten days like the plot is very different seriously theres like only three or four parallels so if its not like that dont kill me
likes reblogs and comments are appreciated hope you enjoy!
