~ various character x reader

> Malcom Tucker

The team had been preparing for an interview/debate to happen on their election that was going on, but you had a feeling that something was going to go wrong. It always did.

When the group arrived, everthing was getting set up and you could already tell how stressed Malcom was. He'd already verbally assaulted three members of the staff.

As he continued to stress over every minor unconvince you decided offering him a hot beverage would calm him down.

"Malcom, -"

"Not now, Love, I'm in the middle of debating whether to perform a live fucking autopsy on this guy or spare his fucking life," Malcom said, dragging a hand down his face in frustration.

"It was just to give you this, Sir," you said, lifting the cup from the tray and setting it down on the table for him.

Malcom looks up at you then down at the cup. What would he do without you. Probably would have murdered the next unfortunate person to cross paths with the man.

He grabs the cup from the table and began gulping it down from the anxiety he had from watching over the screens that failed more than his kidneys.

At this point you left to get yourself a drink, leaving Malcom to sit in the room stressing over the screen alone. Leaving Malcom alone in a room was never a good idea. Especially with people he hates.

The debate met it's match. It was failing miserably and if someone didn't do something quick, everything he worked for would come crashing down making one huge mess to clean.

One person came to Malcoms mind and that person was you.

He looked around the room in search of you and found the room to be empty. He abruptly left cussing to himself down the hall in search of you.

"The one fucking time i need her and shes wandered out of my fucking sight. Why does she have to be so small. She's like a gremlin, fuck sake," Malcom cried follwed by a long line of cusses.

As Malcom was having a mid life crisis, you were stood at the water fountain, pouring yourself a drink.

Out of no where Malcom came sliding round the corner calling your name.

"There you are!" He says, sliding on the carpet from how fast he was going.

"What? What is it?" You say, scared you've done something wrong.

"With me, now." he pants.

You nod and follow him until reaching the outside of the room the interview took place. Malcom looking at you expectantly.

"What?"

He points to the door using his eyes.

"I don't understand what you're asking of me," You frown.

"Do you know whats happening in there?"
He asks.

"An interview I hope," You joke.

"Wrong. What's happening is a catastafrey."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I want you to go in there and fix it. That's what I want you to do about it,"

"Not in my job description," you shrug.

"To hell with you're job description! I'm close to loosing my fucking marbles over this!" Malcom cries.

"What makes you think that anything I say will change their mind?" You ask earning a look of despair.

"I don't know, you're all I've got at the moment. You're good with words. Don't hold yourself back, hit them where it hurts," Malcom pleaded.

"I guess I could try, but don't expect anything to improve," you say reaching for the handle and walking in the room.

Malcom stood back and made a quick glance in the room to see you taking a seat across from them all. He nervously nibbled at the skin surronding his nails and watched you begin saying stuff to clean up the mess they made.

Malcom quickly ran back to the screens to watch you from there and noticed how much he'd growen a soft spot for you.

He found it fascinating how you knew exactly what to say even though you were completely out of your comfort zone.

You were doing a much better job than her anyways and that's all that mattered to him right now.

He knew he could count on you.