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ahundredtimesover · 4 months

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I Want You to Stay (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I've been thoroughly enjoying your asks and replies about this story (sorry I can’t get to each one!) I see that a lot can relate to what OC's going through and I'm sending you hugs! 🤗 Again, I appreciate your love and excitement. And uh... Golden JK in that white tank. YUP. 🤭 Hoping you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The spring in your step tightens the closer you get to Jungkook’s penthouse the next Monday. Walking here to start another week, there’s a mix of emotions you’re carrying with you.

You got to spend a proper weekend. On Friday, you made yourself some cold noodles and then watched a movie with Jimin and Soomin on video call, who’d said they’ll be visiting you in a week. You took the train to Daegu on Saturday, went to the park, then stayed in to enjoy Min-woo’s cooking and the girls’ stories about school and their youth clubs. You then buried yourself in your mother’s embrace as you told her about your week. You didn’t want to say too much, not wanting her to worry that her daughter isn’t being treated well at her job, but you suppose you said enough.

“I wish I was strong enough to protect you from everything,” she’d told you softly. “All I can do is just give you hugs and say words of encouragement that might not even mean much.”

“And you still are, mom. I look forward to being with you because of those hugs. But more than that, you were strong enough to protect me from the bad guys,” you’d assured her. “Jungkook is many things but he’s not a terrible person. I can handle him.”

And you meant it. He may be hot-tempered sometimes but he’s not evil. But just because he made you go home early last Friday, it also doesn’t mean he’s suddenly redeemed in your mind. Sure, he didn’t email you at all over the weekend unlike last time, but he also still didn’t apologize to you nor show remorse.

Perhaps that small nod after he called you telling you that you could go home was his way of saying sorry, or maybe it just isn’t in his vocabulary. You wonder if Hoseok had told him off but even then, it’s a pretty quick change, if you could call it that.

Regardless, you felt like a human being again these past few days; you just wish Jungkook woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and doesn’t find a reason to complain about you.

Unlocking the door, you’re surprised to hear silence - there are no grunts and deep breaths nor the sound of leather hitting leather from his morning workout. You scan the floor before walking around - a habit you’ve developed after finding that laced underwear last week - and then peep into the door on the right, only to find untouched equipment and no other traces of him.

You’re in the living room when you hear another door close, prompting you to turn around and see a woman appearing from the hallway on the other side of the penthouse. Her hair’s a bit disheveled and she’s wearing one of Jungkook’s coats that you saw in his closet.

“Uh, who are you?” The woman scoffs, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised now.

Taken aback, you just stare at her, until you realize she’s not wearing anything underneath so you look away.

You try to make sense of who she is and how you could get out of this situation. You know for a fact that Jungkook doesn’t have a girlfriend, at least that’s what Lucas had told you, but who knows what Jungkook’s been up to since he got back? There was that red laced underwear from last week after all. Maybe he does sleep around like what Do-hyun said. Maybe this woman just doesn’t know Jungkook has a female assistant. Maybe he’s—

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she says, sounding more annoyed now.

“Oh. Uh, I’m Mr. Jeon’s—”

“She’s my assistant,” Jungkook answers, catching you off guard, given that you hadn’t noticed him walk in.

He’s not in his usual workout attire, although him in a white tank top and gray sweatpants with mussed hair somehow seems more overwhelming than him in nothing but gym shorts. You glance at him as he stands next to the woman, whose face suddenly lights up. Not wanting to look at her, you shift your gaze towards the ceiling, trying hard not to look awkward as you’re rooted in place.

The woman looks at you from head to toe and you feel her judging you, assessing you, while Jungkook stands there, yawning and combing his hair with his fingers.

“Just your assistant?” She asks, sounding incredulous.

“Yeah. What else would she be?” Jungkook answers nonchalantly. Looking at you, he nods ever so slightly that you almost miss it, another hint of acknowledgement you’d seen last Friday. “Just eggs on toast. And coffee.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you say, exhaling the breath you were holding and then walking to the kitchen to start on his breakfast.

“I don’t know, another one of your girls? I see you with a new one every time,” she huffs, sounding bitter, but Jungkook doesn’t sound amused.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks, walking to where you are then taking the glass of water you prepare for him. “I called a service for you last night.”

“I was too tired,” she says, and you don’t miss the sultry tone of her voice now. “You tired me out, Jungkook. I could barely get off the bed.”

“And why are you still here?” He asks, clearly not having it with her teasing.

“Because I’m still tired,” she smirks, having followed him to the kitchen.

You feel tense once more; you definitely don’t want to be part of this conversation in any way nor be privy to it, especially given what obviously happened between them last night. And especially not with Jungkook looking and sounding the way he does this early Monday morning.

“And I was thirsty,” she continues.

He sets his glass down and opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water that he hands over to her.

“Ugh, how romantic,” she rolls her eyes, finishing it in a few gulps.

“I have to go to work,” he tells her, frustrated that she’s being stubborn about not leaving when he no longer seems to want her around.

“Actual work, or, you know, work?” She says, gesturing towards you.

You make the mistake of looking at her smug face, the insinuation not lost on you. It’s insane how she can just make claims like that, and you feel that just like you, Jungkook’s getting pissed.

“Can you just leave?” He says much more sternly now. “I can’t start my day with you still here.”

“Ooh, how rude,” she giggles. “Should’ve expected you’d be like that even outside of bed. I like that.”

She walks back to the room, leaving you and Jungkook on your own. You continue to work on his eggs while he stands by the counter, rubbing his temples. You’re unsure if it’s because of her or from last night’s alcohol, but you get aspirin and also a bottle of energy drink and set them in front of him before returning to preparing his meal.

The woman comes back shortly in last night’s attire then walks towards Jungkook.

“I’m leaving,” she announces, tilting his chin so he would face her. “I’ll see you again, yeah?”

Jungkook turns away and does not respond, leaving her to laugh as if there’s a joke that only she’s in on.

“Going all quiet on me now, huh?” She says. “You weren’t like that last night. I can still hear your moans, actually. Fuck, they sounded so good and so loud.”

You almost hit your finger as you slice the apple, clearly not expecting for this stranger to say something so intimate, knowing there’s another person in the room with them. You don’t know if she wants to intimidate you for whatever reason or maybe just make you feel uncomfortable. Whatever it is, it’s working, as you’re unable to focus on the task at hand now.

Jungkook still doesn’t say anything, and it’s what prompts her to finally say goodbye.

“Fine, I’ll leave now,” she whines. “But that was an amazing first time. I hope it won’t be the last.”

Her giggle annoys you for some reason, even more when you mistakenly look her way. Her smug face unnerves you as she holds your gaze while she says, “I’ll see you again, okay? I’ll make sure you’ll scream my name next time,” the words obviously directed at Jungkook.

She finally exits the penthouse but she doesn’t take the tension with her because in this large apartment with you and him, you feel a little too hot, a little too alert, yet somehow a little too curious.

Jungkook groans now as he finishes his energy drink, and he doesn’t know what he’s more frustrated about - the fact that the woman whose name he doesn’t remember didn’t go home, or that you’d found out about it in the most embarrassing way and he’d done nothing to stop her attempts at making you feel uncomfortable because that’s definitely what she was doing.

He doesn’t know how it affected you but even he can tell that it wouldn’t have been good. Not that he’s ashamed of his lifestyle but it’s different when you, of all people, get to see what that looks like. You did see the laced underwear on his kitchen floor last week, and he knows you definitely tried to pretend you hadn’t. Perhaps the image of arrogant, playboy Jungkook just solidified in your head and the fact that maybe that’s what you think of him is making him feel uneasy.

Not that he cares about what you think - he definitely does not - but he just doesn’t want that to affect how you would treat him in a professional sense, as if he’s some reckless man who works too hard and parties much harder, even if that’s kind of what he does.

The hangover doesn’t help at all; he shouldn’t have chugged that wine while the woman was giving him head, which was amazing, he reminds himself. He just knows he won’t be seeing her again after this morning because she’d been stubborn and shameless, and definitely not because of how she spoke to you and the insinuations she made.

“Mr. Jeon, your breakfast is ready,” you inform him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He takes a seat on the table and you sit next to him, taking out your iPad to start your rundown of last Friday’s meeting and this week’s schedule.

“So—”

“Wait, give me a minute,” he stops you, and he realizes just how little sleep he actually got and he’s gonna have to push through today’s busy schedule despite feeling physically out of it.

“Okay, sir,” you say softly.

He munches on his toast with his eyes closed, and when he opens them, his gaze falls on you, sitting upright on the chair looking clean and proper in your blush blouse and beige skirt. You seem to be reviewing the reports from last week, your eyebrows scrunched as you scribble on the screen. He knows you took the hours-long trip to and from Daegu over the weekend; the visit, just like any, must have been tiring. Yet you come to his place everyday without fail, ready to do what he needs you to do, and he doesn’t even know if you’ve had anything to eat yet.

“Have you had breakfast?” He asks.

“E-excuse me?”

“Breakfast. Have you had it?”

“O-oh. Yes, I had some crackers and fruit on the way. I ate on the bus,” you respond.

He remembers your address from your staff profile. You live about 40 minutes from him, almost double if you commute. You come at 6:30 everyday, so he can only imagine what it’s like for you every morning.

“Why don’t you drive?”

“I don’t have a car, sir.”

“Shouldn’t that be part of your contract? Or a benefit of some sort?”

“It isn’t. I believe only the CEO’s assistant does,” you respond.

“Bitna has a company car.”

“Ms. Jung requested that when she was still President.”

“Then I’ll request one for you. It's… it’s too early. And you can’t always be assured of public transportation. There could be delays. Or an emergency that would require you to drive.”

Of course, he’d want you to get a car so that you’re more accessible to him. Just when you thought there’s actually a bit of his heart working this time, he reminds you why there isn’t.

“That’s true, but nothing has happened so far. And there are other options should there be,” you say. “I also don’t know how to drive so there is no need, Mr. Jeon. I leave my apartment early enough to make sure I get here on time, and I’ll let you know if I will be late.”

Jungkook just hums, even if there’s more he wants to know. What about late nights? What if there’s a storm? Well, he does know - he did see you miss out on taxis and then just walk last Tuesday; he wonders how you got home then, and how many hours of sleep you had after all that.

He lets it go; it’s too early to think about this.

“Good. We can run through the minutes now,” he says.

So you do, stating the points and confirming your actions for each one and then noting down his as well. You try to focus, and you’re able to for the most part, but it’s not easy when he sits just a few feet away from you, with his bare arms propped on the table that’s just hard to look away from.

You’ve always liked tattoos on other people, and the art on his right arm looks so delicate and personal; you wonder what someone like him would value enough to ink permanently on his skin. Even his untouched arm is mesmerizing, toned like every other part of him, with beauty marks that you spot as well. It doesn’t help that his slightly long hair keeps falling over his eyes, prompting him to comb them with his fingers every time.

What also doesn’t help are the woman’s words from earlier, as she’d managed to make you think of Jungkook in a very different way, given her descriptions of how he’d been last night. You don’t know what she intended by doing that, but you didn’t miss her insinuations about your relations with him, which are definitely far from the truth. Learning that he’s rough and loud in bed is also knowledge that you could’ve done without. Somehow, he sounds like how he looks - expressive of negative emotions, and the type to drain the other person.

He also sounds like the guys you’ve slept with.

The thought alarms you. These are things you shouldn’t be thinking about your boss, about the man who pays you, about the one who makes you miss meals and buses and who makes you angry because of how he treats you.

You try to dispel these ideas by coughing - the loud sound helps, and you also want to distract yourself from how distracted you are at your task because somehow he keeps getting more and more attractive after every glance.

He stands up, and just when you thought he’d be angry after your disruption, he surprises you by placing a glass of water in front of you.

“You can drink, you know? You can make yourself a cup of coffee. You can even cook yourself breakfast if it’s just crackers you eat in the morning,” he says.

Yes, you think to yourself. You’ve been wanting to try his coffee because of the fancy machine but breakfast sounds… too domestic.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. I mean, the snacks fill me up just fine.”

“It’s not proper breakfast, though,” he argues.

“With all due respect, sir, eating takes time away from all the things I have to do. I manage just fine.”

Expecting an annoyed expression from him because you did just imply that you do too much, you instead see the tiniest hint of guilt on his face, as if he actually feels bad that you’re unable to take care of yourself because of him.

“You’re not a servant, Ms. Cho. You’re not disallowed to do basic things just because of your job.”

“You have standards, Mr. Jeon,” you say, throwing his words back at him. You don’t expect to see his face fall a little, and you’re surprised that you seem to care. “I need to meet them, and I’m still familiarizing myself with how you want things done, and that takes time. I don’t mean to imply that you treat me like a servant because you don’t. I just… I want to be able to do things right and I’m still learning.”

The words hit Jungkook. He knows he’d been too critical during these first weeks, and that’s more because he’s unable to manage the initial attraction that he’s trying so hard to temper. He could’ve gone on correcting you constructively, with no need for harshness the way he did with Lucas when he started.

You’ve also been doing this for a few years. You’ve been working for the VP’s office longer than he has - you know the people and the processes more, yet you’re the one claiming you need to learn and do things right. Even he thinks his father, whom he never thought was the best at looking out for his people, wouldn’t be angry at those below him for irrational reasons. Somehow he thinks he’s worse than his old man now.

But the word sorry isn’t in his vocabulary. He’d rarely ever said it, and the only reason he’d heard it a lot growing up was because people caused his inconvenience, and not because they’d hurt his feelings. He doesn’t know what that’s like - forgiving and wanting to be forgiven. They’re foreign to him, but somehow those are what you’re making him want to know.

“I—”

“Can we move on, Mr. Jeon?” You interrupt him. “You have a scheduled check-in with your father before the 8:30 team meeting.”

“Right, that’s today,” Jungkook says, letting go of any form of apology he could muster.

He nods then stands up to head to his bathroom, and you follow shortly after to arrange his outfits for the week. You clean up in the kitchen after and wait for him to come out, with you reflexively walking up to him to fix his tie and make sure all the creases on his clothes are fixed.

Jungkook tries to remain still as you, like everyday, make sure he looks proper. It always took him a long time to get ready because he used to do all this on his own, but with you taking on the unofficial stylist role - which he admits you do a great job at - he’s relieved of that added stress of looking the part of a Vice President. It just also means that every morning, he has to look unaffected as you stand close to him like this, with you tightening his tie and your fingers grazing his clothed chest.

You smell like roses. It feels warm and nostalgic, like it’s familiar but also something new. It’s refreshing on you, and it wafts through his nose and paralyzes him a little. He tries to hold his breath like always, only briefly glancing at your focused eyes as you make sure he looks impeccable.

He’s caught off guard when you look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t react, but he does linger and surprisingly, so do you. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t know how to. He just hopes you feel it somehow with how he looks at you; he’d like to think you do, as you gently bow and step back, taking your things to go down.

You go through his schedule while in the car, noting his dinner meetings and that the food tasting for next month’s event with the art industry professionals that you’re both organizing has been moved to next week, freeing up his Thursday lunch hour.

“I’ll schedule my visit at Taehyung’s tailor shop that day then,” Jungkook states. “I’ll have a few suits done.”

“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you reply, adjusting his calendar.

He doesn’t say anything after. He takes his leather notebook and sketches like he often does, looking out his window only a few times as he’s engrossed in his drawings. Even with all that he is, you can’t deny Jungkook’s talent. You only know he took an architecture course but you don’t know if he actually practices it.

You start to wonder if Jungkook wanted that to be his profession but couldn’t pursue it because he’s expected to manage the company with his cousin. You wonder if he’d always been into drawing and the arts, if it was an outlet the way reading picture books was for you; you’d wanted to become an illustrator but your mother couldn’t afford drawing classes and that profession just didn’t seem like it could sustain you financially. You wonder what Jungkook thinks when he sketches and what his subjects are, if he feels at peace the way he looks, if he hopes he could just spend his days doing this.

The seeming warmth in your thoughts about this man concerns you, prompting you to turn away from his direction and stare out the window instead. You remind yourself that this is the same person who’d made the past two weeks miserable for you; he doesn’t deserve warmth from you in any form, even if, for the briefest moment earlier after you fixed his tie, that’s what you gave him. You learned that he’s quite mesmerizing when he doesn’t talk or when he isn’t scowling. You also learned you’re quite quick to fall into it when you let your guard down a little.

You groan internally. There’s a lot you don’t know about him and you don’t really care to know more; what you know is enough to put you off anyway. And so these moments of weakness - of curiosity, of concern - should not happen again.

Except, they do happen, over an hour later after Jungkook returns to his room from his check-in with his father. He sits on his chair, his eyes closed and jaws clenched, unmoving for a good few minutes, and you watch from your seat, wondering what transpired that’s got him this disturbed.

It happens again an hour later. He moved the team meeting to the afternoon and he’s now furiously typing on his desktop, making calls, sketching, making calls again, then sitting still with his eyes closed once more. Hoseok walks in, merely nodding at you, then enters the room and speaks with the younger man. Jungkook closes the blinds, and you’re left to wonder what’s going on behind closed doors and what’s got him angry and frustrated.

You take your chance at finding out when Hoseok emerges, asking him if everything’s okay, if Jungkook is okay.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hoseok says, a half smile on display, something you’re only a tad familiar with. “He’ll manage.”

He rushes out, saying he has a meeting to get to, and you nod, glancing at the closed door and blocked window, wondering what troubles Jungkook is handling on his own. If it’s personal, it’s clearly not your business. But if it’s work-related, then it is. You’re there to make things easier for him, after all. You also don’t want to be surprised and be bombarded by new tasks just in case, so it’s better to know if there’s something you can help in resolving things as well.

You walk in his room then place the ginger lemon tea on his desk, a common home remedy for hangovers, just in case last night’s events are still affecting him. You inform him that you’ve sent the reports already for his sign-off, and he responds that he’ll get to them tomorrow.

Glancing at his drink, he halts his typing to look at you.

“Do I look hungover to you?” He asks pointedly.

It’s clearly not what you meant, but you suppose the insinuation isn’t what he needs right now. You want to be swallowed by the ground. He was already calm towards you, civil even, and now there’s another reason for him to be upset at you. You wanted to avoid any possibility of that as much as possible, and now you’re here, at the verge of being told off again, just because your stupid brain decided to care the tiniest bit.

“I, uh, no, Mr. Jeon,” you stutter. “I just…”

You don’t have a reason. Clearly, you can’t tell him that he hasn’t seemed okay all morning - whatever that means - and that just in case it’s last night’s alcohol affecting him, there’s a cure. You stare back at him with worry, but instead of challenging or questioning you, he just sits back with his eyes closed again and dismisses you.

“You may leave,” he instructs.

“What about lunch, sir?” You ask.

You’d never cared before, why the change now?

“I’m fine,” he responds. “Call me when the meeting’s about to start.”

Your stubborn self takes the box of biscuits from the coffee table and places it in front of him. You’re pushing it, you think, but there’s a meeting he’ll be leading and he can’t be unfocused; when he is, it’s all the worse for you.

He doesn’t react and you walk out. When you enter an hour later to call him, you spot the empty cup and the crumbs on the saucer, and you can’t help the tiny smile that you make internally.

It’s short-lived though, as that whole afternoon, he acts unusually - he barely makes comments at updates, he doesn’t make eye contact, and doesn’t ask further questions. He just nods when you say you’re heading out at 6PM, giving you no added tasks to keep you from leaving.

You enter his penthouse the next morning to the banging of leather hitting leather, prompting you to jerk from the loud sounds. He’s grunting and panting heavily, and you just know that whatever it was that transpired yesterday, he’s releasing all his emotions right now, through this.

He exits the gym and walks to the counter where you are, finishing the water you laid for him in three gulps.

“Do you need that tended to?” You ask.

He looks surprised. You gesture towards his hands and he looks at his bruised knuckles; he really let it all out this morning, it seems.

“I’m fine,” he shrugs.

You didn’t think those two words from him would ever make you feel discouraged, but one thing you’ve come to learn about Jungkook is that he easily expresses his anger and frustration towards other people. It’s when he keeps things in that they seem more serious, and you wonder what words he heard yesterday that might have made him this closed off, this quiet, this much more distant.

But fortunately, your feeling of worry fades with each day that passes, as he slowly returns to his normal self after - the focus, the perpetually serious look, the attention to detail, the sketching on his notebook. Perhaps Jungkook just needed a particular kind of release and he’s maybe handling things better now.

For his sake and yours, you wish the issue has been resolved, otherwise another blow up might happen and that wouldn’t be good for your newfound dynamic that’s a lot more civil than anything.

It’s Thursday when you get a call at 5 in the morning, just as you’ve woken up to get ready for work, and Mr. Ri’s voice greets you on the other end.

“Hi, ___. How are you this morning?”

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you yawn, curious as to why he’s checking up on you this early. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he hums. “I was instructed by Mr. Jeon to pick you up today.”

“Why would CEO Jeon ask that?” You wonder, as you sleepily walk to the bathroom to wash up.

“He didn’t. Jungkook did.”

You stop on your tracks. You don’t recall being informed about this, nor do you know of any particular reason why you should be at his place so soon.

“Oh, uhm, okay. I should be ready in–”

“I’ll be there in about 50 minutes,” Mr. Ri interjects. “Sleep in a bit more and have some breakfast. I’ll see you shortly.”

You try not to think about what prompted Jungkook to have you picked up, so you focus on getting ready and then whipping yourself some fried rice using the leftover seafood from last night. You won’t lie, it tastes delicious. It might be that you just haven’t had proper weekday breakfast in a while, but it could also be that you’re energized enough and not pressed for time that you’re able to make this as good as it is.

You decide to bring some to Jungkook’s place just in case you get there late. Sure, Mr. Ri will be driving you, but you don’t know how the traffic is at this time, and this change in schedule is somewhat making you anxious. But then again, there’s always bread or cereal for him to eat; you just think that a little act of thanks wouldn’t be so bad.

Mr. Ri arrives exactly 50 minutes later and he assures you that he’ll get you to the penthouse in half an hour. You trust him of course; he’s been with the Jeons for decades and he knows these streets like the back of his hand. Seated in the passenger seat, you try to figure out what about today has got your boss a little kinder than usual.

“I arrived five minutes late yesterday,” you wonder out loud. “Is that why? He has a meeting with a local artist in the morning and he doesn’t want me to be late. That should be it. Ugh, stupid,” you groan. “I should’ve taken the first bus I saw, but it was so full and–”

“___,” Mr. Ri stops you. “Five minutes isn’t much. Plus, you always arrive 10 minutes before 6:30 and then just wait at the lobby. I don’t know why you do, you could always just go up to the penthouse when you get there, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Mr. Jeon has boundaries and clearly likes keeping his distance. Going to his penthouse before I’m supposed to be there feels like I’m intruding,” you argue.

“You’re literally his assistant, and you go to his bedroom and his closet, fix his things, prepare his meals… there’s no intrusion happening,” Mr. Ri counters. “I know the man. He’ll probably just look at you curiously then go about his routine.”

“Well, since you know him so well, then why did he have me picked up this morning?”

There’s a brief silence before the man next to you responds.

“He did note that you were late for the first time, but that wasn’t his issue,” Mr. Ri says, appeasing you before you react negatively and think that your tardiness was a big deal. “He asked if I knew how you got to Hoseok’s place before and I said you would just take the bus; it was closer to your place so it was fine. They have someone to make his breakfast, too, so you didn’t need to come early; plus, you only went every Monday.”

“What a change, huh?” You attempt to poke fun at yourself and the new arrangement you’re in.

Not that you’re complaining; you know of other executive assistants who do much more for their bosses and what you have with Jungkook isn’t even that bad. But it is quite the shift compared to what you did for Hoseok. You’ve figured out your own routine, though. And the commute isn’t always terrible, for as long as you’re not one of the unlucky ones, given the recent incidents.

“It’s quite the change. I don’t think he realized that until yesterday. He also asked me if I know if you eat properly in the morning. Maybe he thinks you don’t?”

“I’ve skipped meals…” you trail. “And well, I told him that I just eat crackers on the bus. Maybe he thinks I’m losing focus some days.”

“Maybe he’s just concerned.”

You snort at the absurdity of the statement.

Mr. Ri sighs. He knows that Jungkook hasn’t been his best self since he arrived in Seoul, and especially towards you. He’s noticed the young man’s indifference, the occasional passive remark, the frustrated looks, and the tension every morning. He’s noticed your faraway eyes, too, your constant anxiety, and unusual lack of confidence in your usual tasks, given that you look to be second-guessing everything you do.

As someone who’s worked for the Jeons for so long and who’d watched Jungkook grow up, he’s used to the detachment, but it was always because the young man often lived in his own head. There are always lots of thoughts and ideas, and lots of feelings he keeps bottled in.

But he’s also seen Jungkook’s kindness that he doesn’t always show, the guilt and anger that restrain him from expressing his emotions, and the care that he seems to put a brake on when he shows too much of it to someone, and so it isn’t much of a surprise to him to him when the young man gave this specific instruction to pick you up, not just today but everyday moving forward.

“The news on the radio reported on the robberies and complaints of sexual harassment against female commuters last night,” Mr. Ri continues. “They attack at any hour now. I’m sure that’s why. He wants me to drive you home everyday, too.”

“Mr. Ri, that’s too much,” you protest. “That’s not part of my contract and it isn’t his responsibility.”

“Maybe, precisely why I think he’s concerned. It isn’t about making sure you’re not late to work or anything. He’s worried that something might happen to you. And I agree. It isn’t safe, ___.”

“It’s not safe for me anywhere. I just… it’s too much,” you sigh. “I don’t need this kind of service. I’m not entitled to it.”

“He’ll insist though. Will you argue with him over your own security? I mean, it’s either this or he’ll pay for your driving lessons and then request for a car for you to use.”

You sigh, knowing he has a point. You don’t think you deserve it but you also can’t deny that the concern makes you feel a certain kind of way for him; gratitude, for one, and something else you can’t exactly name.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“Good. It’s about time he makes it up to you,” he chuckles. “Boy’s been a brat these past weeks. I wanted to just knock some sense into him.”

“Hmm, not like I expected any less,” you huff. “He just looked grumpy or disinterested during the times I’ve seen him before. Unhappy people like that aren’t always the kindest. Has he always been that way?”

“I wouldn’t say he has. I mean, he just wasn’t joyful or expressive, not like his brother. Jungkook liked to keep to himself; Hoseok often tried to push him out of his comfort zone but the boy wouldn’t really budge. I think as he grew up, that just amplified. People who prefer being alone have their reasons, don’t they?”

They do. You know this just like anyone, perhaps as much as Jungkook. It’s comfortable being alone; there’s no one to hurt you and no one you could hurt. You wonder if his reason is the same, and if, like you, he feels the loneliness creep in every once in a while.

You nod in silence and the conversation doesn’t continue until you arrive at Jungkook’s building. You have five minutes to get to his unit and you get there in three. When you enter, you hear grunting from the gym, and it’s shortly after when he exits and drinks the glass of water on the counter.

“What’s that?” He gestures at the plastic container next to you.

“It’s fried rice. I made it this morning because I had time to eat breakfast at home,” you say, softly smiling and then bowing at him to show your gratitude. Whatever his reason is, the act was appreciated.

“And you’re gonna eat again?”

“I was actually–”

You stop midway. You actually meant to serve it to him in case you arrived late, which you realize is pretty ridiculous.

“Actually what?” He asks, leaning forward on the counter now, with his bare arms from his tank top blinding you a little.

“I didn’t know what time I was gonna get here so I thought as a last resort, I’ll bring this to heat up and serve to you but then I realized that that’s pretty stupid because it’s leftovers and definitely not high-quality ingredients and it’s… just silly. Plus, you don’t eat rice in the morning.”

With his scrunched brows, he asks, “is it good?”

“It’s pretty delicious,” you say. “I mean, I liked it. I don’t know how sophisticated your palate is… Mr. Jeon.”

You smack yourself internally for rambling.

“What’s that got to do with anything? If it’s good, then it’s good.”

“I’m an ordinary person, Mr. Jeon. I have normal people’s taste buds.”

“So that makes me, what? Abnormal?”

“No… I–” you unknowingly pout. You shouldn’t have brought this in the first place.

Jungkook is disarmed again at the sight of your pouty face. If this is your way of thanking him for this morning, he’ll take it. The fact that you’d brought something you cooked from your own place to feed to him is already enough to make him feel hazy, which is why he needs to get away from you right away.

“Just heat it up. I’ll have that. There’s not much food in here anyway,” he says, walking away, leaving you no room to resist.

You do as you’re told, not wanting to overthink and change anything. You do check the cupboard and see a stashed pantry, and you wonder if he’d wanted to find something to criticize about your cooking, too.

He walks in and lets you fix his tie again, and for some reason, you feel more nervous than you normally do today. You sit and busy yourself with responding to emails as he eats his breakfast, careful not to look at him while he does.

“It’s good, a little better than how I do mine,” he says, surprising you.

“You cook?” You ask too quickly.

“Of course,” he frowns, looking a little offended. “I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?”

“Hiring people to do it for you,” you shrug.

Peeking at him once again, you see that he’s almost finished with the dish, and you can’t help the little smile on your face at the thought that he might actually enjoy it. It’s just fried rice, but you let yourself feel the shallow happiness from this. He’s at least not berating you or anything.

He finishes his meal as you go through yesterday’s meetings. There’s not much about the Arts Center he says, just like yesterday and the day before, and you start to wonder if the issue with his father has anything to do with that.

You let it go, opting to just follow his pace and let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever will be.

The morning goes by smoothly. Jungkook meets with Yoongi in his office then reviews the reports you’d sent last Monday. He sends you an email, saying that they’ve been approved and for you to attach his signature for sign-off and dissemination, leaving you perplexed at the lack of any other comments again.

He goes for a quick lunch at the dining hall while you eat a sandwich at the pantry, and not long after, you’re back in the car to head to Jungkook’s appointment with his best friend.

Kim Taehyung’s tailor shop boasts of classic European design. It’s elegant in all the ways that he is, as he stands by the desk in his working space, a smaller room on the mezzanine floor with an exquisite couch and displays of his work. He’s donned in an orange suit that you think only he can pull off, while his brother, Seokjin, sits on a chair in an impeccable black 3-piece.

You know as much that Jungkook grew up with both men, but while the brothers are often a hot topic on the news because of their wealth, their successful businesses, and colorful dating lives, you now wonder how Jungkook managed to stay out of the spotlight despite being a lot of the things that they are.

You bow at them after Jungkook introduces you as his assistant, and you’re surprised when Seokjin reaches out his hand to shake yours, bowing as well and offering you a kind smile. Taehyung does the same, and you can’t help but feel the warmth on your cheeks. They’re clearly incredibly handsome men with amazing styles, just like your boss, but they’re obviously respectful and gentle, unlike him.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cho,” Taehyung smiles. “So, what events do I need to dress my best friend for?”

He looks warm, friendly, and you can’t help but mirror his smile as he offers you a seat and some tea. You take out your calendar and enumerate at least three big events in the next months, which would require standout designs. Jungkook also wants four additional everyday classic suits, and Taehyung starts sketching on his pad as you speak.

“Make one for my event, too,” Seokjin says. “I’m launching my traditional alcohol brand in Singapore in September. It’ll be a big thing so Jungkook needs a fancy piece for that as well.”

“That soon?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, it got pushed early,” Seokjin replies.

Jungkook asks you to check his calendar for any activities in the Singapore office, and you state that there’s nothing scheduled during that time.

“There’s a landscape designer I want to meet while I’m there. Schedule one with her later,” Jungkook instructs you, and you make a note to coordinate with Lucas, who will continue to serve as the assigned assistant for the Vice President’s Southeast Asia trips.

Taehyung finishes the rough designs quickly, given that he’s already familiar with the style his client wants. He’s done a lot of Jungkook’s suits, which you know from all the weeks of preparing his clothes, and you do admit that he looks best in these custom-made pieces.

As Taehyung takes Jungkook’s measurements - given that, as per his words, Jungkook has gotten wider since the last time - he asks if you have something to wear for those big events, too.

“Uh, yes,” you say.

“Are they from company events from before?” Taehyung asks.

You nod shyly. It’s not like you’re paid enough to afford a new one every time nor can you wear them anywhere else; there aren’t exactly regular fancy dinners and social occasions you get invited to.

“Have new ones made, then,” Jungkook says, his back turned to you.

“Uh, there’s no need, Mr. Jeon. The gowns still look new and they’re well-made,” you insist.

“Store-bought?” Taehyung asks, his eyebrow cocked.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Kim.”

“Nothing beats custom-designed ones though. And I must say, I’m kinda good at them.”

“I, uh… it’s really not necessary,” you stutter, feeling a little too shy and definitely undeserving. It’s Kim Taehyung; his name is the brand.

“I believe it is,” Jungkook says now, turning to you. “They’re big events and we’re organizing one with the arts professionals. Some dignitaries will be coming, too, including the culture minister. I’d prefer if you looked the part of working for the Vice President, Ms. Cho. You represent me in that way.”

“I… uh, okay,” you sigh, knowing you don’t seem to be in a position to turn him down.

“Great. Start thinking of designs, then!” Taehyung beams.

It’s some minutes later when Jungkook’s measurements have been taken and Taehyung calls for you. You sit on the chair facing his desk not far away while Jungkook and Seokjin talk about sports and this new club that opened in Gangnam.

Seated in front of you, Taehyung takes his sketch pad and starts asking what design you want.

“Something simple and comfortable since I’ll be moving around,” you say softly. “And nothing form-fitting or revealing since, uh…”

“I understand,” Taehyung smiles, revealing a gentle side of him that the paparazzi and tabloids clearly don’t capture.

He starts drawing your silhouette, glancing at you then at Jungkook before speaking.

“So, he’s been in this role for a few weeks now. Has he been nice?”

“Define ‘nice,’” you respond, earning you a chuckle.

“I guess that’s my answer, then.”

“I don’t mean to say he isn’t,” you backtrack. “Mr. Jeon just has a different leadership style as Mr. Jung’s, that’s all.”

“I suppose that’s quite a difficult adjustment for you, huh?”

You purse your lips and Taehyung laughs, the soft way he does it is something new and refreshing to you. You didn’t realize how deprived you are of such gentleness, of such acts or sights as simple as a smile. Hoseok is no longer your source. Your team hasn’t been as jolly these past weeks. The only other person you talk to regularly at work is Yoongi, and while he’s definitely been smiling more, it’s a lot more teasing than it is comforting. You’ve been missing your best friends more because of that, you think - Soomin’s smile is blinding, Jimin’s is sweet and infectious. Perhaps it’s why you haven’t been smiling much yourself.

“I won’t tell, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures you. “I just wanted to check on him. This whole move has been tough but he doesn’t say much. I’m guessing he doesn’t tell you, either, but he’ll definitely show it.”

“He has, actually,” you say softly, knowing now that even with his closest friends, Jungkook tends to keep things to himself. “He’s pretty stressed most days, always working and stuff. He’s been a little hard on me but I guess that’s a natural reaction for some.”

“That’s not an excuse though.”

“It isn’t, but… it’s okay. I can handle it.”

It’s not as much of a lie anymore as it used to be. Jungkook hasn’t been overly critical about things as he was just last week. He rarely makes comments on your minutes now, doesn’t correct the reports you reviewed, doesn’t talk over you or doesn’t yell. There’s been a change, definitely, and you wonder what triggered it.

“He doesn’t really smile, does he?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Taehyung’s laughter is one of disbelief and pure amusement, catching the attention of the other two men but he waves them off.

“He still does, just not as much,” he responds. “It kinda stopped after the breakup with Chaerin but I guess that’s what heartbreak does, right?”

“I… wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it,” you shrug.

“Lucky,” he hums. “I don’t wish it on anyone.”

You glance at Jungkook, briefly letting yourself imagine a version of him that’s a lot more carefree, relaxed, perhaps happy. Maybe it’s the loneliness and that you’d understand; that, you’ve experienced. It’s both liberating and isolating. You wonder if that’s how he’s been feeling all these years since then.

“I’m done,” Taehyung announces, showing you three designs that are exactly what you asked for.

“These look nice. And way out of my price range,” you laugh.

“Perks of having a rich boss,” he winks. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? You’re my client and I want you to wear these with confidence. Now, if you’re okay with all this, I’ll get one of my female assistants to get your measurements.”

You nod in response. There’s absolutely nothing you would change about those designs. And if you’re being honest, you now can’t wait for those events just so you could wear them. Hoseok had obviously paid for the gowns you had to wear for the big events, but those were store-bought that A-yeong helped you choose. Some were your own purchases, but this is the first time that you’re getting measured for custom-made clothing designed by Kim Taehyung.

You walk towards the fitting room at the corner where one of his staff meets you. She’s meticulous, which is why it takes longer than usual just to get this done. With her silence, however, you’re able to hear the conversation happening outside, with the brothers now asking Jungkook about the same thing you’ve been wondering about.

“By the way, what was up with you last Monday?” Seokjin asks. “I thought that was gonna be night 4 of you going home with a new woman. But you passed out before you could even ask. And that was just 9PM.”

“Four nights isn’t much, though,” Taehyung laughs. “Didn’t he do that with seven women on seven straight nights when he was in Singapore? That was wild. Was it that stressful there? Or were there just so many to choose from?”

“Shut up. I’m not proud of that,” Jungkook groans. “And that was one time. It never happened again.”

“It never happened seven times straight again,” Seokjin corrects. “You were really living your life out there, huh? Stressful job, a rooftop bar in your apartment building, chauffeur and butler services 24/7, women from all over the world begging to sleep with you…”

“It’s called the post-break up stage,” Taehyung says.

“For six years?!” Seokjin asks incredulously. “It’s either you loved Chaerin that much, you blamed yourself too much, or you just really sucked at moving on.”

“I vote all of the above,” Taehyung states.

“Me, too,” Seokjin claims.

“Fuck you both,” Jungkook groans again.

“I think he also just missed us too much,” Seokjin adds. “Lucas was cleaning up your messes every time, not snapping you out of it. But we’re here now so I guess three straight nights is as far as you’ll go.”

“Two, if you stopped me last Sunday,” Jungkook points out. “You both always insisted that Sundays are a no-no. You were too busy with your own women.”

“May we remind you that you didn’t even make it to our table. You stepped foot in the bar then left five minutes later,” Taehyung says. “But really, what was it about Monday? You seemed angrier than usual.”

“Just… a bunch of things my father said,” Jungkook huffs.

“Did he tell you off again?”

“Not really, surprisingly. He just delivered a message basically, about what the board members were saying about me and my project. Bullshit stuff, you know? I just wanted to forget about it.”

“Did you?”

“Sorta,” Jungkook says. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“But it’s still happening, right?” Taehyung asks worriedly. “The Arts Center, I mean. You’ve been wanting to work on that since the building was abandoned five years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook responds. “I guess. We already put money into it. I’ll just have to make concessions if my father doesn’t side with me on this. I hate to think he’s buying into what those old folks are saying.”

“Ms. Cho, we’re all done,” the staff member tells you, muffling the conversation outside that you couldn’t help but hear.

It felt quite intrusive, hearing how life was like for Jungkook in Singapore, but then again, his personal life seemed to be the topic in the office comfort rooms, and you don’t know how to feel about getting confirmation about those rumors. It felt sad more than anything though, living that kind of life away from friends and family. You wouldn’t know what moving on from a breakup feels like, but you suppose people grieve a lost love in their own ways; you can’t blame them for how they choose to repair the parts of them that broke.

But the bit about his conversation with his father is what bothers you. You’d hate to think that there’s a possibility that Jungkook’s plans won’t be fully realized, and whatever the reasons for that are, you hope they didn’t break his spirit too much. You know the plans now like the back of your hand and the more you learn, the more you believe in it. You hope Jungkook continues to believe in it, too.

You exit the fitting room, catching the end of a conversation where Seokjin suggests a wholesome weekend for the three men of just dinner and drinks. The two other men agree, and they all turn to you once you make your presence felt.

“All good?” Taehyung asks you.

“Yes,” you bow in thanks.

“Great. The gowns will be ready at the same time as Jungkook’s suits will be. I’ll just let you guys know, okay?

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “But anyway, we have to get back to work. Thanks again.”

The brothers bid you and Jungkook goodbye, and you head back to the office with not much words said. Jungkook seems less frustrated, but the worry you feel suddenly returns. It’s the thought that maybe he doesn’t feel supported, that maybe what he’s doing isn’t enough, and that more than that, it's him choosing to deal with all this on his own, not even looking to his friends to comfort him.

Jimin and Soomin meet you for lunch at a restaurant that Saturday afternoon. The drive from Busan took longer than expected, they said, but you say you don’t mind. They’re visiting you like they always do every month, regardless of how busy they are back in their hometown, which was your home for a few years, too.

You were in the same class; your mom worked at the school, which was the only reason why you were able to attend a prestigious one in the first place. Even when you moved back to Daegu, you remained in touch with them. Despite the distance, none of you wanted to just let the friendship fade, and even when they had to stay back and you made a life out here in Seoul, they made sure to visit you as much as they could.

They’re why you were excited for the weekend to come and now, you’ll be enjoying a hearty meal, getting your nails done after, lounging at your apartment, and then heading to a club for a night out, which you only do whenever they’re around.

“So, has the boss situation improved?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and laced with worry “Or should I storm the jerk’s house and give him a piece of my mind?”

“It has,” you chuckle. “So no need to call him names or fight anyone. I’m okay.”

“Well, you did call him a grumpy old grinch with nice hair the other week,” Jimin points out. “So… did he get a haircut?”

“No,” you laugh again. “And that was in the heat of the moment. I… I mean, he’s still grumpy but he’s not… as grumpy or unbearable. He’s been—”

“Oh hun, please don’t say he’s been kind and then give him a pass for how he’s been to you,” Soomin reprimands. “Mean people don’t just become nice all of a sudden. And if they do, that’s a controlling tactic - they want you to think they’re capable of change so you’ll soften up to them and then give them a pass every time they do asshole-y things again.”

“You watch too many shows,” you frown, although knowing her statement isn’t wrong; it’s just not something you can relate with Jungkook.

Sure, he hasn’t been the nicest, but he also hasn’t been the meanest. He’s just been… him, you suppose - a bit in the middle; frustrated at worst, quiet at best, stoic on most days. He does seem to live in his head a lot, and while you won’t go so far as characterizing him as kind, he definitely hasn’t been insufferable these past few days.

“I’ve just dealt with too many assholes, ___,” Soomin corrects. “They’re all the same. Men are shit.”

“Except for Jimin,” you correct.

“Except for Jimin,” she concurs.

“I accept the honor,” he bows. “But seriously, ___. How has it been? You… you seemed really sad last week and I would’ve driven here then if we didn’t have that work emergency.”

“I’m okay, I mean it. I’ve experienced worse,” you try to assure them.

“You do know that having experienced something worse doesn’t mean it’s fine for you to experience something bad again, right?” Soomin points out.

“I know, but it also means that I know my threshold for bad behavior,” you say. “Jungkook was in a lot of stress and I did mess up. But I think he’s making up for that.”

“By apologizing, you mean?” Soomin cocks an eyebrow.

Your sigh tells her that’s definitely not what Jungkook has done.

“Well, he approves my minutes and reviewed reports much quicker,” you reason. “And he doesn’t comment as much. But actually, I think he just pities me. And that’s worse.”

“Why would he pity you?” She asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I said that a tree fell on our roof and that mom got injured the weekend before my mishap,” you explain. “And then he found out how early I start my day just so I can get to him on time. He’s made adjustments after those and I… I think he’s guilty or something. And he’s just not being his usual angry self around me to make it up to me.”

“So in short, he’s still kind of an asshole,” Soomin says, prompting Jimin to snort and you to pout. “He could always just apologize if he’s guilty and realized he should treat you better.”

“Some things aren’t easy for other people to say, you know?” You say softly.

“That’s not an excuse,” she points out.

“It’s an explanation,” you counter. “Or one of them, I guess. I don’t know him well enough, but it’s better to think that he’s a decent person who just struggles with emotions than someone who willingly makes people’s lives difficult. I mean, that’s easier to manage and accept.”

“If that helps you deal and he’s indeed improving, then maybe I won’t have to storm his place then,” she smiles, taking your hand and kissing it as she likes to do.

She knows your habit of pressing your nails onto your skin, and she always said she likes to remind you that you deserve gentleness, too; she’ll give it if you can’t give it to yourself.

The rest of the afternoon goes as you planned, with all the banter you’d expect from your best friends amid the pampering and then the chick flick in the background as you get ready in your tiny apartment.

You smile at your reflection in the mirror. The high-waist trousers and sleeveless top ensemble is a refreshing sight for you, as you only really dress up like this for a night out. You’re in your usual pencil skirts and blouses otherwise, and in jeans and tops or oversized jumpers on a normal day.

Soomin’s done your makeup and Jimin compliments you as he looks on, and soon enough, they’re ready as well to head out.

“Where’re we going?” You ask from the passenger seat as Jimin navigates the busy streets of Seoul on a Saturday night.

“Some new restaurant the guys discovered,” Soomin responds. “I think it’s not far from here.”

“Okay, good. Hajoon’s been texting, asking what time we’ll get there,” you tell them.

“Geez, you were already with him last night. Tell him to be patient,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

Soomin laughs from the backseat as she teases that he’s just being jealous, to which he points out that he just hasn’t seen you in a while so the man can wait. And you assure Jimin that you’d gladly skip a night with Hajoon to be with your best friends, no questions asked.

You get there eventually, and you immediately spot the group because of the laughter coming from their table. There are four men; the two women are Soomin’s friends, which is how you got involved with Hajoon in the first place. You met some time last year and you’ve been hanging out with him since then - among other things - and you’ve been enjoying it, given the simplicity and lack of drama when he’s not being moody. He’s a warm body who knows how to use it and you’re a good type of relief, as he’d said; there’s really not much more you need as you just try to survive through life and make something out of yourself in however way you can.

Hajoon waves at you from his seat, gesturing to his left to say he’s saved that spot for you. You head there after greeting your other friends, with Jimin and Soomin following you.

Right as you sit down and greet the man next to you, you’re caught by surprise when he kisses your cheek and snakes his arm around your waist.

“Hey, I missed you today,” Hajoon hums, smiling at you the way he did last night and this morning; it definitely wasn’t this sweet when he left for a work trip last month.

“I… saw you today,” you frown, earning you a chuckle.

“I know; I was still thinking about you, though,” he says.

You give a smile - as genuine as you can make it - and then turn towards your friends to your left who are trying to hold in their laughter.

You order a beer after he offers you a glass of wine, and then go for the pork belly when he says the salmon here is good.

“Just craving for meat, that’s all,” you tell him.

“Is there anything else you want? Just let me know, okay?”

You hum your yes and then turn back to your friends after Hajoon makes jokes with his.

“Since when was he this sweet to you?” Soomin whispers with wide, curious eyes.

“Since never,” you reply. “I mean, we’ve never been affectionate outside of bed…”

“Is anything else different?” Jimin wonders, careful not to bring attention to your conversation.

You look back at how things were before Hajoon left and how it was when he was away. Nothing seemed different. You hung out at his place before he flew out, then you messaged each other every now and then during the one month he was abroad. He was more interested to talk, but given the time difference and the pressure and stress you’ve been under the past weeks, you didn’t bother much, neither did he.

But you also think back to last night - how he picked you up from your apartment, which he’s never done before, and how he prepared a luxurious dinner. He made you breakfast this morning, too, whereas you both usually just sleep in in tangled limbs and then separate once you wake up.

“He cooked me fancy stuff but I just thought he wanted to show off what he learned during his cooking masterclass,” you shrug. “And well… he seemed sweeter than normal.”

“Maybe he hooked up with someone while he was away and he’s guilty about it,” Jimin suggests.

“He didn’t say anything about it and he knows I wouldn’t mind,” you say. “We’re not exclusive, even if I don’t hang out with other guys.”

“Maybe he’s over the fucking and wants to do the loving bit now,” Soomin offers. “I mean, he always seemed more into you than you were into him.”

“He’s hot and decent when he’s in a good mood; that’s all I need,” you admit.

“But honestly, that’s probably it,” Soomin continues. “I think he’s hinting that he wants to be more.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whine. “I’m not ready.”

“You’re 30! When are you ever gonna be ready?” Soomin whisper-yells.

“Never!” You pout now. “I mean… Not with him.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to tell him soon, then,” Jimin sighs. “Before it gets messy. And you hate messy.”

“What if men just don’t have feelings?” Soomin wonders out loud. “That way, you can’t hurt them.”

“So that way, they can hurt you?” Jimin points out. “No. I’m not letting any men hurt either one of you, okay? I love you both too much.”

“We know,” you and Soomin say at the same time.

“But I agree with Jimin, ___. You’re gonna have to let that man next to you, who’s thankfully deaf, go. And then just find another person who can give you what you need,” Soomin continues. “Like, uh…”

She looks around the semi-packed restaurant to find some random man to just point to, her eyes widening in awe as she spots a table close by with the type of men she was just thinking about.

“Like them.”

You laugh at her, not taking her seriously, but still, you look towards the direction of her cocked head, only to feel your throat dry up and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes widen in reflex as they meet the piercing gaze of the man who’d given you a headache for weeks. He also happens to look unfairly handsome in his white top and slicked back hair.

“Shit, I would totally go for them,” Soomin adds, “and I only even like men a quarter of the time.”

Your best friends look at you as they wait for a response, only to see a nervous look on your face, as if you’re seeing a ghost or something, and the way you turn to them and stutter almost seems like you are.

From the other table, Jungkook pants quietly. You finally looked his way, and he didn’t know what to expect your reaction to be - maybe a bit of shock, but definitely not this worried. Granted, you’re out with your friends at a restaurant that he and his friends frequent. It’s not the type of place they’d normally go for - this is a lot simpler, less private, and more accommodating than the exclusive restaurants and hotels they go to for dinners before heading to a club. But Jungkook loves their pork belly; he orders it every week, and tonight, he was craving for this specifically before going to a private party of one of Taehyung’s clients.

Jungkook had seen you when you sat down, and he’d been taken aback when the guy to your right immediately kissed your cheek; it seems he’s barely let go of your waist since then, too. Perhaps the man is your boyfriend - and Jungkook doesn’t know what made him think you wouldn’t have one - but it also seems that the one to your left is into you, too, at least based on how he smiles at you sweetly but rolls his eyes at the affectionate guy to your other side.

But other than the embarrassing obvious affection that both of them are directing at you, what made him lose his senses is how you look, and you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. Your hair is styled, your makeup is bolder than usual, and he won’t even start with how you’re dressed. It’s a lot more skin than he’s used to - you’re out, after all, and if he’ll go by what your companions are wearing, he supposes this is your stop before heading to some club to party, too. Whereas when you’re at work, you have the skirt and long-sleeved blouse ensemble that you wear everyday - still pretty, perhaps just a lot more reserved than what he’s seeing now.

He can’t take his eyes off you, even as you entertain your suppose-boyfriend, even when you engage in hushed conversation with the man and woman to your left, and even when you stare back at him, the initial shock now wearing down to a look of curiosity. Perhaps you’re wondering why he keeps glancing at you, too.

“I told you he’s got it bad,” Taehyung laughs from the other side of the table.

He’s noticed how his friend hasn’t said much in the last 10 minutes, his gaze directed at the loud table close by. One glance and Taehyung knew why.

“Well, we told him,” Seokjin corrects. “He only ever acts out when he’s threatened and he’s apparently threatened by his pretty assistant.”

“I’m not acting out,” Jungkook scowls, finally breaking the staring contest with you.

“You’ve never been this much of a jerk,” Seokjin says. “So yes, you’re acting out.”

Jungkook ignores them, his eyes turning back to you, and finds you downing two shots of tequila consecutively, then using the beer as your chaser. His knuckles unconsciously clench when your suppose-boyfriend scoots closer, whispering something in your ear, his lips grazing your skin.

Jungkook exhales deeply, trying to get a grip of himself. He’s acting foolishly. You obviously have a life outside of work, and it obviously includes going out for dinner and drinks with friends, having a boyfriend, and enjoying your youth the way he is. There’s a world outside of the routine you’ve both created, of the silence you both share, and the time you spend together, unknowingly learning about each other without meaning to, without wanting to.

“___,” Soomin calls your name one more time.

“Huh?” You answer, finally tearing your eyes away from Jungkook, who’d unfortunately captured your attention after you noticed he was there.

You’ve been used to his impeccable looks in his fancy suits; you’ve even gotten used to his tank top and sweatpants post-workout outfits every morning, and while you’re still not immune to that look, his night out wear fit for a party leaves you more choked up than normal.

Maybe it’s the black jeans that you spot as he sits on the edge of the couch, or the white button-up top with the rolled sleeves up to his elbow, or his haircut that makes him look a little more mature. Maybe it’s all that and the way he’s gazing at you, the look in his eyes something you can’t quite read. Perhaps like you, he’s surprised to see you here the way you’re shocked that he’d chosen this place to eat; it’s not exactly a fancy restaurant you know he likes eating at.

But he’s here, and so are you, and suddenly you feel exposed, as if the world outside of work that you’ve kept to yourself is baring open to the man who stands at the center of what you do everyday. And you’re not sure how you feel about that.

“I was just saying… those men are pretty hot and they look interested, too,” Soomin wiggles her eyebrows. “ I mean, they keep looking here.”

“One of them is my boss,” you finally say. “Guy on the right. That’s… uh, that’s Jungkook.”

“Holy fuck, hun,” Soomin chokes on her drink. “Why did you leave out the part about your rude boss being a fucking god?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin scowls. “He’s still rude.”

“It’s different when the guy’s hot. It makes the anger more intense, you know?” Soomin says. “Attractive people elicit more passionate feelings sometimes.”

“Excuse me, that’s not why I was angry,” you pout. “He was really being unfair.”

“Well, he was. But I think my point also applies,” Soomin argues. “I’d just like to warn you that workplace hotties are a menace. Except for Yoongi - he was heaven sent. ”

“Ah, the man who could’ve been,” Jimin sighs. “We at least knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t seem like the type.”

“Yeah, this dude over here is hot but he’s mean. And that’s your type,” Soomin smirks.

“Can we… not talk about this while he’s there? And while this other dude is right next to me?” You glare at your friends, especially at Soomin whose insinuation wasn’t lost on you. “It’s so… weird.”

“Hey, we’re here for you, okay?” Jimin softens as he looks at you. “Just let us know if one of them makes you feel uncomfortable. We can always just stay at your place and watch horror movies until morning and you and Soomin can lose your voices from screaming and then I’ll lose my hearing because of it.”

His words make you laugh. There’s a tenderness in Jimin that you’ve never heard from anyone else before. Even when he’s telling you to stop yelling because you live for the thrill of a jumpscare, he says it so tenderly while laughing before pulling you both in his embrace.

“I’m okay. I’m just… I don’t know, probably just not used to seeing him somewhere that isn’t the office or his home,” you reason. “And I feel a bit exposed, I guess. This is my world and his is… right there.”

You wrap your arms around your body subconsciously, realizing only you’d done it when Jimin asks if you’re cold, offering his jacket then taking it back because Hajoon might smack him or something.

You turn it down, knowing you actually feel hot more than anything. You’re dressed up and definitely dressed in less, and somehow having Jungkook see you like this is oddly making you shy, perhaps a little too conscious.

“Just don’t mind him,” Soomin advises. “It’s a restaurant. You obviously have a social life and he can’t fault you for it, nor make you feel weird about it. Just focus on us, okay? Or on Hajoon, if that’ll happen.”

You follow her words and try to block out Jungkook. You do slightly nod at him, as well as at Taehyung and Seokjin just to acknowledge their presence, but you continue on with your meal, as the dishes arrive soon after.

The pork belly is a winner; you’ll probably come back here for that alone. You do manage to dodge Hajoon’s attempts at feeding you, and your other friends engage with the three of you at the other end of the table. It’s going well for the most part, until Hajoon starts to act a little wary, a little tense.

“Hey,” he says, leaning close to you. “The guy on the other table has been looking at you all night. It’s kinda annoying.”

You glance at Jungkook’s table and he looks away when you do. “Oh, just don’t mind him,” you wave Hajoon off. “Maybe I remind him of someone or something.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel him tense even more, as you look up and see that he’s staring down the man on the other side. Hajoon’s had a bit to drink, and you know he tends to be cocky and irrational when he is. You groan once he shakes his head, saying he’s gonna give “that stranger” a piece of his mind because “he can’t be looking at my girl like that.”

The initial annoyance you feel turns into panic once he stands from his seat and storms to the other table. You follow him, with your friends just looking in worry. His friends are more encouraging of what he wants to do though.

“What the fuck is your problem staring at my girl like that?” Hajoon mumbles, acting all tough when he’s never threatened nor confronted anyone like this, even when he’s drunk.

Jungkook seems taken aback. Perhaps it’s the aggression he didn’t expect, or maybe it’s finally having to acknowledge your presence in the restaurant, just in an unfortunate way.

“Your girl?” He scoffs.

The way the man is speaking to him is quite annoying, but he also knows your boyfriend is slightly drunk, so he dismisses him because Jungkook doesn’t need this drama tonight, especially not in front of you.

Hajoon hates the way this stranger is looking at him and not taking him seriously. He’d seen how he kept glancing at you, perhaps trying to get your attention away from him, and he’s really had enough. His words are slurring but this is the courage he needs to stand up for you. You’ve said before how unwanted attention makes you uncomfortable, and he’s gonna do something about it before the man gets to try anything with you.

“Yeah, my girl. You seem to have a problem with that, don’t you?” Hajoon grunts.

“My only problem is you making a scene right now,” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re drunk and insecure and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of your girl.”

Not that you expected him to back off, but you didn’t actually think that Jungkook would further press Hajoon’s buttons. The man is drunk and insecure and indeed embarrassing, but getting told so is a blow to the ego, especially in your presence. And so you’re not surprised that this just makes him angrier, and since you’ve never dealt with this version of him before, you don’t know how to pacify him.

You didn’t actually think that Hajoon had a daring bone in his body despite being the way he is, but when he attempts to lunge at Jungkook, you’re left in disbelief. You’re quick enough to pull Hajoon back before he lands a fist on the other man’s face, but he’d been worked up enough that he hits the glass of wine on the table, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill on Jungkook’s thin white top.

“Mr. Jeon!” You shriek, pulling Hajoon back more forcefully before pushing him to the side so you can get ahead.

You take the napkin from the table and wipe Jungkook’s wet clothed torso, slowing down immediately as you realize what exactly it is you’re doing.

“I… uh,” you stutter, standing straight up and mirroring his questioning eyes.

It was a reflex for you, considering that you constantly make sure that he’s dressed impeccably.

“You know him?!” Hajoon asks in disbelief, tugging on your hand now so you’ll turn to him.

“He’s my boss, you idiot!” smacking him on the chest as you glare at him. “And you just put my job in jeopardy and for what?”

“Well, what can he do?” Hajoon challenges. “Get you fired because of me? Does he own the company and shit?”

“My father does,” Jungkook responds. “And I’m the Vice President.”

Hajoon just rolls his eyes but you aren’t amused. You glance at your table and gesture for one of his friends to take him, so one of them does. He stands up and pulls Hajoon away before he can do or say anything else.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your head bowed down as you apologize. “I…”

The mess on his outfit is too much; the red has stained the white top and you know he feels sticky. He looks like he has somewhere to go after this and that makes it worse.

“I– I can call Mr. Ri to get the car in here. I can get extra clothes from your travel bag,” you say, knowing that Jungkook always has a bag filled with clothes for emergency flights or check-ins.

You get your phone and make a call, telling Jungkook that his chauffeur will be here soon. You glance towards your friends who are still pacifying a drunk Hajoon, and you decide that they can handle all that. Right now, your priority is Jungkook.

You walk out towards the car that’s on hazard mode outside the restaurant and pick out the top that’s most appropriate for a night out, which happens to be a semi-loose black button-up. You head back inside, with Taehyung and Seokjin informing you that Jungkook has gone to the washroom, so you scurry towards there and knock at the door.

“Mr. Jeon, I have your black long sleeves here,” you say as your knuckles tap on the wood. “Just tell me–”

You’re interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, the sight of Jungkook in his jeans hanging by his waist and his unbuttoned white top catching you by surprise. His hair’s a bit damp and so is his bare torso, as you see that he’s tried to clean the wine off his body.

You catch yourself looking longer than you should, and you immediately look away as you hand him over what he needs.

“Please let me know what else you need, sir,” you say, your eyes glued to the pretty wallpaper as you awkwardly stand outside the washroom.

“Jungkook,” he says, earning him a curious look. “I mean, you don’t need to be formal. We’re not at work.”

You nod, realizing it does sound weird to address him as such in a casual setting.

“Okay… Jungkook,” you mumble, but even the way it rolls off your tongue is a bit odd. You’re not used to it, and you hope you won’t ever be.

He closes the door and you take this time to calm yourself down. You’ve been so worried since you saw the glass tip over and mess up his outfit, and given his hot-headedness, you’re a little surprised that he didn’t fight back. He does have a reputation to uphold but even then, stopping himself from punching Hajoon must’ve taken a lot.

The door opens and you sigh in relief; his outfit still looks good and he’s fully clothed, so there’s no lingering looks this time anymore. You take the top that he gives you, and you take the chance to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” you start. “I don’t know why he— I mean, he’s a bit drunk and he’s not usually like this.”

“You’re not the one who should apologize so don’t,” he responds.

“Well, he won’t apologize so I will.”

“You didn’t spill the drink and you didn’t come at me. That was him,” he counters.

You just shrug, choosing to just concede. “I’ll just return this to Mr. Ri.”

He calls your name before you turn around to leave.

“I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and your boyfriend,” he says, much too low and too gentle than you’re used to. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer softly. “We just, uh, we just hang out.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to correct this misinformation. Maybe you just want to remind yourself because you’re not anyone’s anything; hearing Hajoon claim you as yours made you want to just create that distance even more.

Jungkook wants to push it, to ask more. The man clearly acts like he’s your lover, given the physical affection and the way he tried to stand up for you. But there’s a bit of shame as you state that you and the man “just hang out,” and there’s that wonder he feels - how can you be with someone without being with them, and if turning away people who are clearly into you is a tendency you have. There’s Min Yoongi, after all, who’d liked you enough to remain as your friend when you needed one despite how he felt.

“Okay then,” Jungkook nods. “And your job’s not in jeopardy. Don’t take responsibility for a stupid act you didn’t do.”

You bow in thanks, not much used to this side of him that’s understanding and even calm. You suppose he’d seen you worry about your job, had seen you look embarrassed over something that you didn’t even do, and perhaps he saw the discomfort over how Hajoon was talking about you.

You’re about to walk out of the hallway when his call of your name stops you again, prompting you to turn around.

“About earlier… did I… did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, the worry in his voice surprising you.

You debate over playing it down or telling the truth, but you go with the latter.

“A… a little,” you admit, looking away.

You hear him sigh, and there’s a look of guilt in his eyes as you turn to him.

“I’m so—”

The footsteps of another diner in the hallway disrupts him, and you both make way so he can use the washroom, too. Perhaps you and Jungkook had taken so long, and you don’t want others to conspire about what’s happening, so you walk out and tell him again that you’ll just return his clothing to Mr. Ri.

From your table, Soomin and Jimin watch the awkwardness of your parting of ways, with you scurrying out the door and Jungkook returning to his seat with a deep sigh before glaring at Hajoon.

“He does sound and look like an asshole, aside from being hot,” Soomin observes. “That’s totally ___’s type.”

“Are you saying she likes her boss?” Jimin asks incredulously.

“I’m just saying that’s her type, not that she likes him,” Soomin corrects. “There’s a difference. I still hate him for making things hard for her. I wish he would stop treating her like that. You and I know she won’t quit anytime soon. Especially because he’s a Jeon.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs. “I wish we could protect her from all this, too. But she’s always done what she wanted to do. And we wait for her to tell us when things are hard; we just hold her hand whenever it is.”

“That’s all we can do, I guess,” Soomin responds. “Sometimes though I wish she’d just… let someone else do more than just hold her hand, you know? It could’ve been Yoongi, or even Hajoon before all this mess. It could’ve been you.”

“You know that’ll never happen,” Jimin laughs bitterly, with Soomin knowing exactly what he means. “You’re only ever just her friend or her lover; you can’t be both.”

Soomin hums in agreement, as she’d seen you draw the line with the men you’d come across with. You’d make it clear if friendship is all you want; you’d be straightforward if it’s just sex you’re seeking. You give either just your heart or your body and you’re always careful not to give both. There are parts of you that you don’t want to share, that you don’t want to expose to them; there’s a kind of hurt that you don’t want to experience.

They watch you walk back inside and then head to their table, where you sit next to a buzzed Hajoon who still has half a mind to look at you guiltily.

“I think I’ll head back home after this,” you tell the group. “Kinda not in a partying mood anymore.”

Your other friends apologize on Hajoon’s behalf, proceeding to ask you if that was really your boss and if he’d threatened your job because of it, remarking that it would be such an asshole move of him to do that or to even get mad at you for something you didn’t do.

You come to Jungkook’s defense; he didn’t say anything to that effect at all. Perhaps you’d been the unfair one who assumed that he would - that he’d demand that you apologize, that he’d use this against you.

“He’s… not like that,” you say, meaning it. You turn to your best friends who have disagreeing looks. “He… he tried to apologize for making me feel uncomfortable,” you say softly. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Look, ___,” Hajoon starts, but you cut him off.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you sigh. “I’ll just pay my bill and head out.”

You, Soomin, and Jimin all pay accordingly and then leave the restaurant, with you turning to Jungkook and his friends, bowing as a form of goodbye.

“Hey, why don’t we buy desserts at a convenience store and have our own party at your place?” Jimin suggests as you all settle in his car.

“That would be nice,” you hum. “This outfit wouldn’t be such a waste then.”

So that’s what you do, as your best friends treat you to all the snacks you love - a usual occurrence, really, as they used to do that back in Busan to cheer you up during the days when you were feeling sad. It’s one of the things that you allow them to spoil you with and they take advantage of that, as you go home with weeks’ worth of goods for you to enjoy.

You also picked up some drinks on the way, so you play some music and dance around with your wine glasses and take shots in between. It’s too early to be drunk but 11PM might as well be 3AM. You’re all seated snugly in your tiny couch as you watch some variety show on mute, laughing at the hosts' antics even if you can’t hear anything.

“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” you huff, leaning on Soomin’s shoulder as you doze off. “Both of you are all I need. Thank you for never disappointing me.”

They know you don’t always let yourself be this sentimental. They also know that when you do, all you want is for them to listen and to hold you. And that’s what they do, as you eventually clean up and fall asleep on the mattress with them, the events from earlier slowly fading away.

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anantaru · 2 years

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𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬‘𝗥𝗘 𝗗𝗥𝗨𝗡𝗞 !

˖˚˳⊹ they‘re drunk feat. childe : ayato : kaeya : diluc : kazuha : heizou : itto : xiao : venti : cyno x fem! reader

˖˚˳⊹ genre: fluff : crack : mentions of alcohol

drunk! childe who assured you that he can take another shot. The both of you were at a banquet hosted by the fatui after all, he had to stay longer and taste all the beverages available, it’s to show that he’s truly cherishing and admiring the cryo archon —that’s what he told you after gobbling down the fifth shot—, now babbling incoherent words of weird shit you weren’t able to decipher even if you tried your hardest. You did know it was something about a dark secret of his, (that’s how he made it sound like if you were being honest) before he bursted out screaming that he was horny.

drunk! ayato who was so cocky at first, kind of ignorant if you squint, telling you that he’s not getting drunk easily, what’s a few gulps of those tasty wines after all? thoma got it from mondstadt for him to taste and relish in, what kind of lord would he be if he weren’t going to drink it since it‘s a gift he got. To your surprise he did hold up a bit longer than expected, yet in the end he was starting to get a bit weird. Was giggling about literally every single thing you said like it didn’t even matter what it was (you could just say one single random word and he‘d go HAHAHA), —and his cackles were so loud as well—, cheeks a cute rosy tint and if you were being honest, in a way he was fucking adorable in your eyes!

drunk! kaeya who was way too happy that you were accompanying him to the tavern tonight. He loves quality time together after all! Resulted in him ordering way too many drinks though, —to show you his favorites and impress you a bit hehe—, yet while you stayed with the drink you ordered, somebody had to get rid of the rest that kaeya so carelessly bought. The way he gobbled them up was beyond belief if you were being honest, it didn’t take him long to finish the drinks and that’s when it hit him like a truck in an isekai anime. Cheeks heated up, radiating warmth while he was getting utterly clingy, hugging you tightly while introducing you to literally every single person in the tavern as his s/o. <3

drunk! diluc who’s fighting with himself right now. He’s drunk as fuck but literally tells himself that he isn’t. He would start babbling weird shit to himself too, something like, —you’re not drunk diluc, get over yourself—, over and over again in hopes to trick his mind somehow yet that’s not how it worked. You felt bad for laughing but it was way too funny watching him try his hardest to play sober when in reality his mind was threatening to turn blank. Diluc was absolutely disgusted by alcohol, yet even he had to consume it sometimes when important guests would come to visit the winery for some quality beverages. He’s writing himself a mental note to switch it up with grape juice and pretend for it to be alcohol again for the next time.

drunk! kazuha who's a little sleepy head, as we all know by now. He just can't help himself, really. His head just grows so heavy, thank the archons you're by his side so he can properly rest it on your shoulder. The way he's slowly unraveling into a little whiny baby is beyond adorable, cooeing sweet things against the shell of your ear before slowly dozing of in a deep slumber, —don’t forget he’s still on your shoulder though—. You truly couldn't get enough of his precious facial expression but at some point you got to get him home safely somehow, good luck with that because he‘s not going to be much of a help!

drunk! heizou who’s tripping over every single second, getting him actually home was a much harder mission than you at first anticipated. "step, step, step." he‘s giggling while chanting that word, over and over again. If he wasn’t that cute you would’ve smacked his head by now, you were sure the word 'step' would be stuck in your head forever now mixed with the random melody heizou was adding on. Finally reaching your home, you had to stop him from actually tripping over again the moment he headed in before he fell flat on the couch, knocked out immediately too. The way he was laying there made his hair strands hanging loosely around his beautiful heated up face, he was so pretty even when drunk like this! bewitching almost when you took the blanket next to him to cover his body, so he wouldn’t catch a cold. <3

drunk! itto who made a bet to drink those three bottles of fine liquor, if he managed to not pass out he’s going to be gifted an amazingly strong onikabuto for his collection. It was no other than kamisato ayato himself who made him do it, —probably well knowing that there wasn’t a way for itto to actually stay awake after gobbling those three bottles up—, yet itto was determined, he‘s the greatest after all! not even you could’ve talked him out of ayato‘s scheming so there he was now: on the floor, two bottles empty while the other one was still tightly closed, he just couldn’t do it anymore. Itto lolled his head back a bit, mumbling about the random onikabuto he wasn’t going to get now while ayato cracked himself up next to you. While shooting the yashiro commissioner a deadly glance to shut him up, you advanced forward to itto to bring your silly boyfriend home before shinobu was about to find out what had happened, which if you were being honest would not only get him in trouble, but yourself as too!

drunk! xiao who said he couldn’t get drunk, he’s a yaksha after all, have some respect. But once actually being one bottle and a half in, he realized his mind was getting hazy, foggy almost. What was that witchcraft😩, is the first thing he thought to himself before you assured him that it was the alcohol messing with his brain. Xiao refrained from drinking anymore then, he also plopped back against the bed to feel the soft sheets underneath him engulf him. When drunk, he turned a bit more opened up, taking your hand in his and holding it close without saying anything really. You could’ve sworn you even saw a little smile painted across his features once you locked gazes. Xiao isn’t saying anything right now, the intimacy was rising up slowly while the both of you drifted away, dozing off in a deep slumber engaged in each others arms.

drunk! venti who's normal as always, you don't even realize he was a bit drunk when you first met up with him. Yet after destroying yet another bottle of fine dandelion wine, —which no one knew how he afforded it himself—, venti started singing and musing in a louder tone. He'd chant, praise and hum around the tavern with the people listening closely at his enchanting voice. Don't be fooled though, venti isn't doing that for free, he eyed yet another bottle behind the bar and figured that if he were to put on a show, he might get it for free (he didn't get it for free), in the end you had to practically drag him out since you figured diluc was starting to get fed up with venti's voice.

drunk! cyno who only wanted a drink after a long day of work, tasting the sweet n bitter liquor on his tongue and finally being able to calm down. You joined him of course, knowing that it might not stay at one glass, your assumption being turned true once you saw him rest his head on the palm of his hand, cheeks rosy with his lips curved up in a playful smile once eyeing you. He's so loud, screaming out your name so you'd come over to sit next to him (if he wasn‘t so cute you would’ve turned around and dipped) also now buckle up !!! because cyno will literally burst out different kinds of jokes to make you laugh, —since he adored seeing you smile—, just be aware that most of them are going to be painfully bland and unfunny, making only cyno laugh while you were looking at him like 🧍‍♀️. Yet he was adorable that way, loosening up a bit every once in a while was something he needed to stay sane. <3

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#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #childe x reader #ayato x reader #kaeya x reader #itto x reader #diluc x reader #kazuha x reader #heizou x reader #venti x reader #cyno x reader #tartaglia x reader #xiao x reader #childe x you #kamisato ayato x reader #diluc x you #genshin impact headcanons

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joaniejustwokeup · 1 year

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DP x DC Prompt:

Summoning circles are more complicated than people give them credit for. They’re a bit like a mix between a thumb print, a name, a phone number, and a recipe; and at the same time, nothing like any of those things.

In reality, most summoning circles in spell books and ancient texts are incomplete, representing only a fraction of a particular spirit’s identity.

A complete circle will actually be a series of different summoning circles, with each concentric ring representing an aspect of the spirit’s identity and having individual requirements and/or offerings needed. Ghosts have an innate awareness of them and are able to draw and describe their requirements from any sort of inward reflection.

Ghosts will often give out incomplete circles as a means of communication and transportation. A single ring of the circle will only open the door, and each ring added makes the pull and connection to the summoner stronger. Ghosts will also sometimes use incomplete circles to mark and monitor their haunts and as a way of claiming territory.

A complete summoning circle will occasionally but inevitably change over time, as parts of the spirit’s identity change.

The circle will always be a closely guarded secret. This is because, much like giving your true name to the fae, giving out your full summoning circle will allow the summoner to not only capture you, but to command and control you.

After Danny was shown Dan’s future where he killed the world, he made Jazz memorize his complete circle and told her to use it if he ever turned evil. She thought he was being ridiculous, but learned the spell when she saw how frightened he had become of himself.

When the summoning circle of the Ghost King was added to his identity, he tried to make her memorize the new circle, only for her to flat out refuse, saying it’s not healthy for him to make these kind of contingencies. They get into a really bad fight and Danny flies off determined to find someone he can trust with his circle should he turn evil.

As he’s flying over his town he feels the slight tug on his consciousness indicating someone is trying to summon the Ghost King. He lets his awareness bleed through the summoning just enough to see that… yup it’s cultists again. At least there’s no sacrifices this time.

He’s about to shrug the summoning off like he has so many others when he suddenly sees someone fighting through the cultists. Oh! Make that several someones.

With a giddy sort of eagerness Danny watches Batman and his sidekicks cut through the crowd of religious fanatics, even taking down a couple that looked like they were using ghost-based magic. He’d always admired the Dark Knight, but seeing him fight in person is something else.

It’s as the hero is tying up the cultists and checking their injuries that a lightbulb goes off in Danny’s head, and, after a moment of steeling his determination, he lets himself be pulled through the summoning circle.

The Bats all tense up as the circle at the center of the room grows brighter, readying themselves for another fight. Danny tries to smile reassuringly as he feels his form materialize, though they likely can’t see it in the bright flash of light that accompanies it.

He frowns when he realizes the summoning had dressed him in his royal armor and cloak, the crown of fire burning above his head and ring of rage glaring from his right hand.

He tries raising his hands in an “I am not a threat,” pose, before realizing it looks exactly like the Box Ghost’s “Beware!” pose. He tucks his hands under his armpits, then awkwardly waves at the group of vigilantes.

“Hi there! Wow that was really cool- Thanks for taking care of these guys for me.”

The vigilantes once again tense up as Danny steps out of the circle towards them. Danny smiles sheepishly.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I really need to talk to you, Batman.”

Batman steps forward, approaching Danny as he stands just outside the circle, a living shadow that looms larger than life. Still, Danny senses something soften in his gaze as he looks over the teenage Ghost King, stopping just out of reach of him. Danny gazes back at his childhood hero, hoping he’s making the right choice.

“I have a favor to ask of you.”

#Red hood doodling these intense circular designs in the corners of his favorite books not knowing what they mean #Dick: Oooooh what’s that little wing? it looks cool! Jason: (blushing but can’t figure out why) Nothing! Fuck off!#Jason’s subconscious: he called me cool! :)#Jason storming into the Batcave - ‘WHERE’S MY COPY OF PRIDE AND PREJUDICE- DEMON BRAT I KNOW YOU HAVE IT!!!!’#Jason starts tagging the edges of Crime Alley #He’ll suddenly get on coms like ‘Get out of my territory Old Man!’ (How did he know we were here? He’s across town!)#dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #ghost king danny #summoning circles #summoning circle lore #danny phantom #batman #halfa jason todd #or at least some kind of undead #but I guess that’s only in the tags right now #my writing

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hihelloheyhowdy · 11 months

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Malleus realizing feelings + confession.

I've seen so many different headcanons of how he would confess but here is my personal take

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Malleus is been going on nightly walks with you, and opened up about his loneliness. Getting really close to you (some thing Sebak was extremely against but what he doesn't know won't hurt him).

So imagine his confusion when his heart starts beating especially quickly when you get to close.

Is this what child of men call 'heart attacks'? is he endangered? Should he be worried? so he says bye and just poofs out of there

"Sorry child of man I must go, I'm not feeling well."

"Oh well is there anything i can he-" and he's gone.

Lilia is so confused when he hears Malleus call him in a tone mixed with confusion, panic, and concern, wasn't he on the walk with the magic-less perfect he seems to have taken a liking too?

Malleus is pale complexion makes the pink-y/red hue on his face far too noticeable.

Ah, he can already connect the dots here.

"I was fine really but they stubbled closer to me and suddenly my heart is going double? triple? it's pace. Of course i'm not sure what sickness they could've given me, but surely this is not normal."

Lilia is trying so hard not to laugh, this is a serious moment. The crown prince/future king, and more importantly- one of the children he's worked hard to raise has found a love interest. So he's going to try his best to help- after all he's been around long enough to know that romantic feelings and relationships should be handled with care.

"Malleus, have you considered you may have romantic feelings for the perfect?"

Malleus literally freezes. Just stops completely.

What?

Romantic???

feelings?????

For who??????

Malleus.ext has stopped processing, refresh and try again later.

A million thoughts all at once

When? Where? How? Why? Is he allowed it? Can a fae even gain romantic feelings? Will they go away? Will they grow stronger? Can you notice? Have you known and not said anything? Do you like Malleus? See him as anything more than a friend? Do you even consider him a friend? Do you just tolerate him? Do you secretly share the same view point as everyone else about him and have been hiding?

The last thought left a bad taste on in his mouth. The idea of you even mildly disliking him made him want hide away. Is that normal for when a person has romantic feelings?

Lilia notices Malleus is change in attitude.

"Malleus? Are you feelings alright?"

"Yes? Maybe? No, no i don't think i am."

"Okay, maybe take a breathe. Having romantic feelings isn't the worst thing that could happen."

Malleus finds himself in the library reading books about romantic feelings and relationships, subconsciously making a checklist to see if he really does have feelings for you.

Finding the other person attractive: yeah, he'd found you more appealing than others.

Wanting to be around the person more: yes, he always found himself wanting to spend time with you.

Feeling happier around the person: of course he felt happy around you.

As he kept going through questions you'd find on the back of a teen girl magazine his head was spinning.

He had a crush on you.

Oh dear.

He didn't really know how it approach it at first

Lilia told him to "go for it" and "court the perfect if you want to be with them"

As he thought about it, a romantic relationship with you seemed... lovely.

He began to crave it, to want you to have feelings for you back.

So he decided to court you.

You were confused at first, not knowing whatever... this was that he was doing

After all one night he disappears middle of your walk, and then various nights later is giving you what is seemingly expressive jewelry.

On the third night he offered you jewelry, you said something that shattered his world.

"Malleus I can't accept this-"

To you what was simply being polite, and not accepting crazy priced gifts was to Malleus a rejection.

So he pouted, and once again disappeared without warning.

When Lilia saw Malleus upset, speaking about how the perfect does not reciprocate his feelings, he knew something was up.

Lilia wasn't an idiot he knew you liked Malleus, so he needed to know what was going on.

When you saw Lilia at your door the next day, you jumped at the chance to get answers

"Do you know why is Malleus has been acting so strange?"

"Because you rejected him."

"I didn't reject him?"

"But he was courting you, and you didn't accept his advances?"

"Courting me? Since when?!"

"Oh! you humans court differently. You see when a dragon fae wants to court someone they usually give them precious gems, and rocks."

"So when I didn't want to take it..."

"He thought you were rejected his romantic advances."

Once it had set in, you put a plan into motion.

Later that day you showed up at the Diasomnia dorm.

Sebek wanted to kick you out upon sight, but Lilia and Silver held him down so you could go speak to Malleus.

Upon seeing you he was happy at first, then heartbroken.

"Malleus I have something to gift you."

His ears perked up.

He stared down at the rock with a painted heart on it in your hands with curiosity.

"I couldn't find a precious gem on such short notice, but I hoped this would temporarily suffice in allowing me to court the great dragon prince."

He had never felt so happy.

It's now his new prized possession, next to Gao-Gao Drakon-Kun.

#fanfic #malleus fluff #twst malleus #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland malleus #twst fanfic #twst fluff #malleus x y/n #malleus x reader #fluff fic #fan fiction #tooth rotting fluff #brainrot

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euphoricfilter · 7 months

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always forever

pairing: jungkook x f.reader

genre: angst || hints of fluff || hurt with minimal comfort ? || non-idol au

summary: you're right there

word count: 2.1k

tags/ warnings: it's just kinda angsty, not exactly a happy ending? but not exactly a sad one, very much open for interpretation, grief, alludes to insanity, and slight slight slight yandere themes towards the end

notes: made the end a little less angsty than originally intended because i too like soft endings :D also got the idea while listening to ‘exit music (for a film)’ by radiohead, that’s kinda the vibes for this

navigation for my masterlists

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

It will always be a strange phenomenon, how anger will almost always equal shouting. Such a human response to such an ugly human emotion.

Anger is such a raw feeling, bubbling, burning beneath the skin that you need to let it out, release the pressure that rage had built. So many words you had never thought to even say spilling past your teeth before you even know what’s being said. Never enough time to bite down on the bitter tasting filth thrown at someone else. Not a thought behind such horrible language, tearing your heart up, because surely if they’d hurt your fragile emotions then it was only fair you did the same to them?

It had been an accumulation of things leading up to this moment. Jungkook hadn’t realised his patience was wearing so thin to the point his unbridled anger had been directed at you. A bad morning, cold shower, no one to help him at work and too many people complaining when really their issues were never his faut. It had rained and he had no umbrella, and the bus was running late. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Just too too too too much for his fragile human brain to handle.

“Why won’t you fucking say something?” it comes from his chest, throat scratching, his own voice ringing inside his head at how loud he’d gotten.

A pitiful mix of desperation and wrath mingled, clawing its way up his throat, digging into his mind, slowly pulling him apart until he doesn’t even recognize his own voice as he shouts at you. Doesn’t even recognise the words as his own.

“One thing I asked you to do, and you couldn’t do it?” a rush of air fills his lungs, burning slightly as he swallows down his growing upset.

He wanted you to shout back, tell him how horrible he is. How terrible of a boyfriend he was calling you names, horrible things that he knew you weren’t because you could never do any wrong in his eyes. Picking you apart of the little things you’re scared of.

The days the both of you had sat down, you handing him your heart on a platter for him to cradle to his chest as he’d told you how he’d always be there. Your secrets, your insecurities, all locked away within a small box, trapped in his heart, protected by his ribcage. Thick layer of skin and muscle and other gross bodily things encasing your hurts and worries. So many things he’d kissed away and locked within himself to help you hold the burden of your hurting.

His words are venomous as he tries to rile you up, anything to get you equally as mad as he was. Logic long gone, tucked away in the far crevices of his mind.

Somewhere beyond him, he doesn’t even remember why he was so upset in the first place, words being thrown around, eyes rage filled as he just watches you sit there.

And then he sees it, something almost like pity painted behind your eyes.

“Say something!” he cries, your face blurring over as tears glaze across his vision.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask him, the first thing you’d said to him since he’d gotten home, the first words he’d really let you have. Having exploded the moment he’d seen you lounging in his room.

He opens his mouth, words almost there before he flinches. Loud knock on the door to his bedroom.

He sees you turn towards the door, your eyes flickering back over towards Jungkook when there’s a second of silence, thick as it coats the room. Lost words thrown around seeping out of the walls now that it was quiet, a silent witness to what had just happened.

“Jungkook?” Jimin calls from the hallway, “Jungkook?” he calls again, palm of his hand smacking against the door, rattling the wood; vibrations shaking the walls.

He hadn’t expected his roommate to be home, shame slithering up his spine as he takes one more look at you before trekking over towards the door. It wasn’t often the both of you argued, let alone with people being there to hear what was happening.

He yanks the door open, anger still fizzling somewhere within him, annoyance coating his tone as he comes face to face with his older friend.

“What?” he almost barks, reeling himself in, chest shaking as he takes in a long breath. Edging himself to take a calmer approach.

Jimin peeks into his room, eyebrows furrowing a little.

“Who are you shouting at? It didn’t sound like you were playing any games, are you okay?” Jimin peers over his shoulder, eyes falling on Jungkook’s computer; switched off, plug pulled from the wall.

Jungkook swallows, “Sorry”

Jimin shakes his head, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“It’s fine, I was just a little worried…”

Jungkook looks back at you sat on his desk chair. Your eyes meeting his instantly, though you don’t make a move to open your mouth, eyes telling enough of how you were feeling.

“You don’t need to worry hyung… me and y/n just had a disagreement” he tugs a smile onto his face, evidently forced, though he can only hope Jimin doesn’t point it out.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrow a little deeper, forehead creasing.

“Right, baby?” Jungkook pulls the door open a little more so his roommate can see you. He motions for you to answer, eyebrows raising a little as you keep your mouth shut.

“Jungkook?” Jimin says, tone ever so careful.

Jungkook turns, eyebrows creasing at the concern on his friend’s face.

“What…?” he asks, “We’re really okay, right y/n?” he turns back towards you, desperation growing.

You smile over at him, gentle as he stands there. Eyes locked with your own.

“Come on, don’t be quiet now. Tell him we’re okay” he almost laughs, “We’re always okay, just me and you remember? Forever”

Jimin’s eyes flicker between Jungkook and the empty chair.

“Jungkook…” he presses a hand to his shoulder, tugging his friend towards him, “you haven’t forgotten, right?” he asks, catching sight of his friend’s eyes. Eyes wired and feral as he turns towards him.

“Forgotten what?” he asks, glancing back at where you’re sat. Just as pretty as the day he’d met you. Jungkook’s rage simmering out into confusion as he looks between you and Jimin.

It briefly crosses his mind, how awful he had been to shout at you, just pretty you sat like a dream in his room. And what a piece of shit he’d been to even raise his voice at you, a vow he’d made to never do. One he would spend the rest of his life proving to you that this was one little slip up. That he would never have reason to shout at you again.

He thinks it must be desperation, your silence stretching out for too long. He wanted to hear your voice, for you to tell him it was okay. That the both of you were okay. Just like always. Just like it’s supposed to be.

“I’m sorry” he steps towards you, shrugging Jimin’s hand off his shoulder.

“No—” Jimin’s fingers wrap around his arm, “Jungkook no. She’s gone”

Jungkook stops at that, muscles locking up. Cogs of his mind cranking back into action, hazy thoughts clearing for a moment at what he’d just heard.

Ever so slowly he turns towards Jimin, eyes narrowing.

“Pardon?” he seethes.

“Look!” Jimin points to the chair, “It’s empty. She’s not there. No one’s there. You’re imagining things Jungkook, you need help”

“What?” Jungkook turns back to look at you, “She’s literally right there!”

He points to you, frantic, “tell him you’re here. He can see you, you’re literally right here”

He pulls his arm from Jimin’s hold, feet dragging against the carpet, “Come on, baby. You’re right here” he kneels before you, warm fingers slipping through yours. Desperation seeping from every pore as he holds onto you.

Jimin watches, slipping his phone out his pocket to message one of the older roommates, concern shrouding him as he watches Jungkook whisper to nothing. Your name slipping off his tongue like it were the only thing he knew.

“Tell him” Jungkook whispers, pressing his forehead to your knees.

Your fingers slip from between his own, gentle as they brush over his hair. How many times the two of you had been in this position, or the roles swapped as he pampered you with his love.

“Jungkook” you murmur, hand running over his cheek. Your thumb brushes over a tear, swallowing as you call his name again.

He looks up at you through wet lashes, “I’m sorry” he whispers.

“I know you are” you nod, “But I’m gone”

He shakes his head again, hands running up your legs, fingers digging into your skin.

“I can feel you, see?” he laughs, wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his hoodie, “You’re right here, we’re together”

You blink down at him, slow as your arms snake around his neck. You slip off the chair to sit with him on the floor.

He pulls you closer to his body, arms wrapping around you, cradling you like you were the most precious little being, so fragile and small and all his.

“I’m not here anymore” you whisper, “You know that too”

He shakes his head, “No, because if you were dead then I would be too. I can’t live without you”

“Yes, you can” you look up at him, “I’ll always be here” you press a finger over his heart, “Here too” that same finger pushes against his forehead.

You notice Jimin’s absence from the doorway, eyes flickering back to Jungkook who had been looking at you. Scratching the image of your face into his mind. Regret finally settling over him as he catches up with what he had said earlier, a million apologies lined up on his tongue.

“I’m the only one that can see you?” he murmurs, fingers tangling into your hair, “Just me?”

Your tongue runs over your bottom lip, “I suppose”

Jungkook wipes his cheeks, mouth pulling into a wide smile as he pulls your body closer to his, “Then we can really be together forever?”

You press your cheek to his shoulder, nodding. Unsure what else you were supposed to do.

“It seems so” you whisper, eyes closing, knowing it would only take so long for Jimin to get someone. Gentle peace between the both of you only lasting so long before they come and break Jungkook apart.

You wonder what they’ll do. You can only assume he’d fall into hysteria the more they tell him you’re dead. Remind him of what happened, how you lay six feet under, flowers he’d brought you rotting over your grave in that exact moment. Decomposing along with your body.

Your eyes peek open, catching sight of the last photo you and Jungkook had taken together, pinned beside his bed. A good omen he’d told you, so that on the days you would sleep at your apartment, at least you’d be looking over him. There even if you weren’t.

It was a small beach house the both of you had rented out for the summer. The final photo before you’d taken the long drive home, his fingers interlaced with yours, sweet smelling sea air slowly fading out the longer you drove. With the promise that you’d come again next summer, just the two of you.

“What about the beach?” you pull away from him a little, his eyebrows furrowing in question.

“The beach?”

You nod, “To be together forever” you watch his face, careful of his reaction.

“They’ll take me away from you”

“They?” he asks, “No one’s taking you away”

You glance back at the door, “Your friends… they’ll make sure we’re never together”

Jungkook follows your gaze, silence stretching out between the both of you. Faintly you can hear Jimin on the phone, too far away for you to catch any of what he was saying.

Jungkook turns back towards you, “The beach…”

You nod, gentle smile toying at your lips. Because even in death, there would never be a day you’d want to watch him suffer. Any excuse for him to escape and for you to trail along behind him, truly in his shadow. Nothing more than an bodyless being that only your lover would be able to see.

Your arms wrap around him tighter, pulling him a little closer to you until his face is pressed into your neck.

Jimin can’t see you when he comes back upstairs, can’t see the lack of expression on your face as he worries about his friend. Blissfully unaware of the little seed of hope planted in Jungkook’s mind.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook scenario #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #bts non idol au

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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A Fresh Start [6]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, but with like immediate follow up comfort, medical trauma? if you’ve ever been blown off by a doctor in the office and that frustrated you then be forewarned

Word Count: 5,119

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #06: TRIKAR’LA, BUIR!

Chapter Summary: Grogu goes to the doctor, and the Marshal decides he might need to murder said doctor. You get comforted by your boys.

"Watch carefully,

the magic that occurs,

when you give a person,

just enough comfort,

to be themselves."

- a t t i c u s

Nevarro didn’t have a large hospital. It had an emergency center and a clinic for routine appointments. Anything that couldn’t be healed or cared for within a day got transported to a nearby settlement on a neighboring world. Luckily, the transport time wasn’t very long, and Nima told you that the travel there wasn’t intense. The High Magistrate had worked out a deal to keep it that way.

Coming from a Level One Trauma Center on Coruscant, the office was shockingly puny. A simple two story building with emergency services on the first floor and routine medical care on the second. You had learned ages ago that the size of a medical center didn’t correlate to the kind of care a patient could receive. Some of the best physicians you’ve worked with came from smaller hospitals. You had no criticism there. The only thing that made you nervous was not having the kind of resources a Level One hospital would have. Coruscant had spoiled you in that sense.

For what had to be the hundredth time since leaving the station, you glanced over at Mando who walked right beside you. He held Grogu in his arms casually chatting with the boy. Grogu responded in a mix of Mando’a, Basic, and gibberish. It was painfully cute watching the Mandalorian interact with his son. Every inch of him screamed danger and intimidation, but the tender voice leaving his helmet’s modulator was nothing but soft and loving.

“Is something wrong?”

It took you a second to realize Mando was talking to you. “Hmm?”

“You keep looking over at me.”

You were getting pretty decent at reading Mando’s body language, and weirdly you could tell the difference between his head tilts. All of that, yet you still had a bad gauge on how far he could see out of his peripherals while wearing the helmet.

“Oh, er,” You scrambled for a response, “No. Nothing. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just checking on you.”

You opened your mouth but stopped yourself when you realized you were about to apologize for apologizing. Instead, you tried to steer the conversation away from your staring. “Do you know how many doctors work in Nevarro?”

“Not enough.” Mando replied. “Three rotate on the schedule right now, I think. Karga is still trying to recruit more, but until Nevarro really makes a name for itself it’s a hard sell.”

“It’s pretty impressive so far.” You motioned around to the clean and cheerful street surrounding you. ��And growing fast.”

Mando nodded and your lips curled up in a smile as you watched him allow Grogu to crawl onto his shoulder and cling to his helmet. He kept one hand up just in case the child slipped. “Yes, but as always, it comes down to credits. Karga spent a lot to get this place built up. Doctors are expensive.”

“True, but if you’re gonna spend credits anywhere healthcare is a good bet.” You shrugged. “There are doctors out there who’ll take less pay to work somewhere rural. I⏤” You stopped yourself and at the sudden halt Mando glanced your way. You had nearly told him you once considered working in a rural setting. It hadn’t crossed your mind in ages, since before the incident, but you didn't think twice before nearly blurting it out. You cleared your throat. “I knew someone. From the clinic I worked in. They were specifically looking for a job somewhere rural.”

Mando nodded. “Maybe you should send their frequency number to Karga.” You forced out an awkward chuckle. “For now though, we have Bacta and cautery. You could probably find e-bacta if you asked the right people.”

“Spoken like a true bounty hunter.” You teased.

Mando let out a laugh and began to wrestle Grogu from the makeshift jungle gym of his shoulders and helmet. The clinic had come into view and you felt a ball of nervous energy begin to form in your chest. This wouldn’t be your first time in a medical facility since that night, but it would be your first time going willingly. All this morning, you hadn’t thought about it. You didn’t think this would bother you at all, but staring at the building now your mouth was becoming dry and your palms clammy.

The weight of a hand on your shoulder startled you, and your head snapped to the side to see Mando facing you. Nothing about his helmet looked concerning, but you could feel the worry radiating from him. “I’ve been calling your name. You didn’t answer.” Grogu hummed in his arms and tilted his head. “Are you sure everything is okay, cyar’ika?”

“Yes. Just...zoned out.” You tried to find an excuse, but nothing was coming to mind. So, you went for the next best thing. Topic change. “What does that word mean?”

“What?”

“The word you called me. Uh, ‘shar ekah’?” You repeated it best you could, but the word was always spoken so swift and softly that it was hard to remember the exact pronunciation. Saying ‘buir’ had been much easier.

Mando’s hand fell from your shoulder and his entire body went tense. You furrowed your eyebrows at his reaction. He let out a soft cough, and now it seemed like he was the one searching for something to say. Your distraction had been successful. However, now you were very curious as to what he was calling you. Mando didn’t seem like the type to secretly be calling you ‘dumbass’ all the time.

“It’s nearly 2.” He blurted. “We don’t want to be late.”

“Right!” You nodded. As curious as you were, you’d happily accept any advancement of this moment. Anything to avoid him asking you what was wrong again. He passed you to enter the building and you took in one last shaky breath before following.

The clinic’s waiting room was filled with children. This office saw patients of all ages, but with school starting up next week it seemed most families were doing exactly as Din was⏤ getting his child ready for day one. The schedule was running late so despite it being nearly half an hour past the appointment time, Din sat in the waiting room right beside you. Grogu had wiggled out of his lap to run around the room with other kids around his age. It made him nervous at first. He wanted his son to have friends to have fun to not ever feel left out, but the anxiety of him not fitting in was painful. You had reassured him that everything was fine, and you had been right. Grogu squealed and laughed as he played with three other kids.

Din was leaning back in his seat, hands clasped over his abdomen and ankles crossed, in an attempt to look as casual as he possibly could. The truth was the opposite. Din couldn’t stop peering out of the corner of his eyes at you. Luckily, the helmet made it a lot easier for him to hide his actions unlike you. Din was still worried about you. It was obvious something was making you uncomfortable, and he had been determined to get to the bottom of it. Until, of course, you innocently asked what ‘cyar’ika’ meant. That had thrown him.

The first time he called you ‘cyar’ika’ it had been entirely accidental. You had been hesitant about asking him questions about himself, and he didn’t want you to feel that way. In his reassurance the word had just slipped out. Since then, it fell out a lot more. Often by choice. Din liked the way it sounded when he was referring to you with it. He liked that every time it left his lips, you’d turn to give him attention with your pretty smile.

Technically, the answer shouldn’t be embarrassing to him. The best translation of ‘cyar’ika’ was ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’, but that didn’t necessarily mean it had to be used in a romantic setting alone. It was a generalized term of endearment. He could’ve said that. Din’s problem was that he knew, deep down, he didn’t feel just a ‘generalized endearment’ for you. Din was much too attracted to you to pretend it was said with any other connotation.

His panic hadn’t helped his situation. Din spent his entire life being trained for a fight. He was taught from a young age that panic led to mistakes and mistakes led to death or worse. It had been ingrained into every single cell of his body to the point where staying calm was a muscle memory for him. It didn’t take a conscious decision. It was his default, and that default was half the reason he was so successful as a bounty hunter. Despite all of that, all it took was one innocent look from you⏤ one simple question⏤ and he melted into a pathetic puddle.

Din glanced your way again. You sat ramrod straight in your seat, shoulders tense, and your fingers were tangled together in a vice grip. He wasn’t sure how you weren’t hurting yourself holding your hands together like that. Whereas his entire body sat casual, though a farce, yours screamed stress. His own hands came unclasped as the urge to touch you in reassurance overcame him. Din managed to resist and instead crossed his arms in hopes that this position would better control his instinct.

“I haven’t been to a doctors office in a while.” You blurted. The sound of your voice had his head snap to look at you in a nearly comical speed. You were watching Grogu play while you spoke in a whisper. “I guess I’m just nervous. It’s stupid.”

“How you feel is never stupid.” Din replied. He shifted so he sat up rather than leaned back. “You didn’t have to come with us. If I had known—”

You chuckled, “I know. You wouldn’t have made me. I think you might be a little too understanding for a boss.” Din swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. That was true. Kriff, if you knew any of the thoughts he had you’d consider him the worst boss in this world— maybe in the entire Outer Rim. “I wanted to be here. For Grogu and— and you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“It’s no big deal.”

Din disagreed. You were acting against an active fear you had for him and his son. That meant a lot to him. He knew the kind of strength it took to press onward into a setting of discomfort.

“Can I ask why?” Din asked. “Why haven’t you been to a clinic in a while?”

You shrugged and your gaze drifted down to your hands which you began to wring together. Din stayed silent. He was content with giving you all the time in the world to respond. Finally, you looked up to meet his gaze. You smiled and your words came out jokingly, “Nobody likes doctors.”

“Still important to go now and then.”

“Uh huh.” You tilted your head at him, smile growing impish. “And when’s the last time you saw a doctor? Mr. Big Bad Bounty Hunter?”

Din’s lips curled up in amusement. He loved that you were comfortable enough to joke with and tease him. He shook his head. “I have bacta and a cautery at home. Those don’t require me to sit in a waiting room for 45 minutes.”

“Fair point.” You chuckled. “Bacta and cautery do have their own faults, you know.”

“Like?” Din asked. He didn’t really care about the faults of either, but if this distracted you from your nerves he’d play along. Plus, the sound of your voice was like music to his ears. He’d sit and listen to you read the instruction manual for a caf machine without complaint.

“Well,” You began, your shoulders beginning to relax, “Bacta is incredible. No doubt. Society called it a medical miracle and they weren’t wrong. It’s only as good as the person using it though. If the wound isn’t cleaned right or debris is left inside when the Bacta is applied then everything gets trapped inside as your tissue heals. Plus, if it’s already an internal issue Bacta can’t target that. It does nothing for fever control or symptom management.” Din could tell you were getting into the conversation because you twisted in your seat to face him. “If you use Bacta on a fracture, but you don’t set it right then it heals wrong. If you mess up the measurements in a Bacta tank or the settings are wrong it can ‘overheal’ a person which just means a person’s tissues and cells rejuvenate and are reborn so fast that it floods the body. Those excess cells wreck havoc and turn to tumors wherever they land.” Din let his eyes shamelessly trace your features. This was the first topic, other than Grogu, that he had seen you get so excited about. You pointed at him with a mocking grin, “And don’t get me started on a cautery gun.”

Din chuckled, “And what exactly is wrong with my cautery gun?”

“You’re essentially creating a wound to fix a different wound.” You scoffed. “It’s great for stemming blood loss and destroying infected tissue, but between infections and scarring⏤”

Din leaned toward you, a confident tilt to his head, “I’ve never had a cautery induced infection.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

You twisted your lips, amused, and he shifted so he was as close to you as he could manage in the separate chairs. You shook your head. “Fine. You, Marshal Mando, are the one exception of the system. Congratulations.”

Din let out a breathy laugh, and he wondered what it would sound like to hear his name spoken in your voice. The beeping of his communicator made you alter your position in the chair so you were back to where you had started. Din did the same and resisted muttering the curse words bouncing around in his head. Looking at the screen he saw it was Cara. Dank farrik. She’d only call if it were actually important.

He accepted the call and Cara started talking without preamble.

“Mando, we got pirates. Mayfeld and I are on our way to the tarmac where a group of them are causing trouble, but Karga said a few were spotted by the school.”

This time he didn’t hold back the curse that came to mind. Din turned to look at you and you gave him a reassuring nod. “Go.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Din stood.

“We’ll probably still be in here.” You motioned to the waiting room.

Din reached out to squeeze your shoulder and on his way out told Grogu to behave.

Kriffing pirates.

Mando had been an excellent distraction. You had never been a fan of pirates at baseline, they were always the worst to deal with when they stumbled into the hospital in Coruscant, but now you really hated them. You tried to focus on Grogu who was still playing with a different set of kids as the ones he had been with before got called back to be seen. Before they left, you had actually exchanged a few frequency numbers to set up play dates at some point.

“Grogu?” A nurse poked her head out of a door.

He dropped the blocks he was holding to perk up at the sound of his name. Still in a playful and active mood, Grogu wanted to walk on his own rather than be held so you walked by his side as you both followed behind the nurse.

She went about taking vitals and getting some more information before leading you back to a simple room. You sat down in one of the two chairs in the corner, by the exam table, and let Grogu bounce around the room to burn off his excess energy.

“You are gonna sleep so good tonight.” You chuckled.

“No sleep. No.” Grogu chirped. “No, no.”

That was quickly becoming one of the kid’s favorite Basic words to use. You glanced up at the clock on the wall to see it was about an hour after your appointment time. Understaffed clinics got backed up, it happened, and you understood that better than most. You felt bad for the poor physician running around the office today. You were actually hoping you’d have to wait a bit longer though.

Mando wanted to be here for this, to be here for his son, and you hated that the damned pirates got in the way of that. If you could swap roles with him and handle the pirates so he could stay here with his son you would’ve. Unfortunately, that would’ve been messy for every single person involved. You didn’t have an extensive history doing well in a fight, and the only kind of blade you knew how to use was a scalpel. You’d never even held a blaster before.

“Skraan!” Grogu called out.

You shook your head. “We just ate lunch, buddy. I think we have some snacks left.” You dug around the baby bag you had packed for the day and found the container of star shaped cereal puffs you had put together this morning. “Here we go.”

Grogu bounced over to you happily and held his hands up to you. You dropped a few stars into his palms and watched him eat them one by one. He’d explored the room while eating the stars and would only return back to you for more stars. That became the routine for the next ten minutes and by then you were out of star shaped snacks.

A knock at the door startled you. “Come in!” You placed the container into the bag and motioned for Grogu to come sit on your lap. “Hi. I’m⏤”

“This is Grogu?” The man interrupted your introduction. He was older, you’d guess in his late sixties or early seventies, and was human. Thick gray hair covered his head and it matched the thick mustache above his lips.

“Yes. We’re here for⏤”

“Let’s see, school registration check up.” He read off the holopad in his hand. You shifted in your seat, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, and bit back a snarky reply. “We’ll get some blood for lab work, give the usual booster shots, and get you on your way, yeah?”

You held Grogu’s hands, skeptical, “I was actually hoping⏤”

“There’s no need for⏤”

“Please stop interrupting me.” You snapped. There was nothing you hated more than not being able to get a thought out. Maybe you’d have more patience for it if you hadn’t spent all your training being looked down at for being a young woman. You couldn’t count the number of bloated attendings you worked under who were just like the man in front of you. The doctor stayed silent but you could see annoyance on his features. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“When you came in, you never introduced yourself.” You said but paused before saying more. This wasn’t a hospital you had any sort of credentialing in. That meant if you wanted anything done, you were gonna have to stroke an ego. You cleared your throat and shook your head. “Sorry, I’m sure it slipped your mind with how busy you are today. I bet they have you running all over the place.”

The man chuckled. “You aren’t wrong. My name is Dr. Daelar. I am sorry about the wait time. I was caught in a different procedure room for the last hour doing a cryoablation of some skin lesions.” You resisted the urge to scoff. Doing cryoablation correctly took five minutes tops. Doing it insanely, incorrectly could maybe stretch it out to ten. You didn’t appreciate the excuse because you knew it was a lie. “As I was saying, we’ll draw some blood and get those booster shots going.”

“Thank you. We’re actually going to be forgoing the blood tests, and I was hoping you’d take a listen to his lungs.” You replied. Over lunch, Mando had explained that he wasn’t comfortable with anybody drawing blood from Grogu. He hadn’t explained the exact reasoning, but you gathered it was something from their tricky past. Even with your back to him, you could tell the topic made him mildly uncomfortable. “He’s had this night time cough I’ve noticed⏤”

Daelar shook his head. “That’s not wise. I strongly recommend the blood tests.”

“Okay.” You drew the word out. “Thank you, and I appreciate your thoughts on the matter⏤”

“These aren’t my thoughts, these are the facts.” Daelar interrupted again. “Blood work should be checked routinely for chronic illnesses. He needs this done.”

You didn’t know if Grogu could tell that you were in a bad mood, but he began to squirm and whine in your lap. He turned around and pushed up on his tip toes so he could bury his face into the crook of your neck. You scooped him up to hold him closer making the action easier.

“I understand the benefits of routine lab work, and I understand the risks of refusing.” You said as calmly as you could. If this was about legal issues then you’d say the magic words that he could type in his chart and waive all liability off himself. “That being said, we’re still refusing a blood draw today.”

Daelar scoffed and shook his head. “You’re being unreasonable. As a first time mom it’s understandable to be nervous and jittery, but it’s no reason to put your son at risk.”

Oh, you really didn’t like this man. Karga had somehow managed to hire a physician that represented everything wrong with healthcare. Nice. Between the bullying and assumptions, that would be enough to piss you off alone. Add the stress of being in a clinic after so long? You really had no chance of getting out of this without losing your cool.

“You’re not drawing labs on Grogu.” You snapped.

Daelar shook his head and shrugged. “Then I don’t know if I can clear him to start school.”

“Blood work isn’t necessary for school registration. Just the boosters.” Your voice began to raise.

“Ma’am⏤” He began once more but a solid knock at the door interrupted the interaction. A nurse poked her head in one second later and Daelar snapped at her. “We’re busy in here.”

“Sorry, sir. The child’s father is here.”

Daelar smirked at you. “Good. Perhaps, this will settle the matter at hand.”

The nurse slid out of the room and was replaced by Mando. You took in the sight of him, unharmed and unmarred, and a wave of relief washed over you. If dealing with the pirates had led to a fire fight then Mando came away with no obvious injuries. Mando’s helmet tilted just a bit and you could feel his eyes on you in the same way you had looked over him. His shoulders stiffened marginally, his stance still intimidating, and you wondered if your anger was notable. You rubbed Grogu’s back soothingly.

“Oh. Marshal!” Daelar greeted. “I had no idea this was your son. I⏤”

“What’s wrong?” Mando walked over to stand beside you, ignoring Daelar entirely. He rubbed Grogu’s head and let his hand trail from his son’s head to rest on your upper back. The way he stood beside your seat nearly blocked Daelar from your view.

You lifted your chin to stare up at the T-shaped visor. “Dr. Daelar has been adamant about a blood draw despite my very clear refusal.”

Mando turned around and his hands drifted to his hips. Daelar shifted awkwardly from across the room and he let out a cough. The doctor held his hands up with a smile, “No, I think this is simply a misunderstanding.” Your eyes widened, jaw falling open. “The little Mrs," Again with the assumptions, “She misunderstood me is all. I was simply offering my recommendation, but obviously the decision falls to your hands at the end of the day. We can just work on the boosters and finish the paperwork for registration.”

A disbelieving guffaw left your throat at the audacity of this man. Mando glanced over his shoulder down at you, and you took a sharp breath through your nose. Whatever. As long as Grogu got the care he needed. Mando looked back to Daelar.

“Have you listened to my son’s lungs?”

Daelar’s eyes widened. “Hmm? Why?”

“I know Soran would have brought it up. She’s attentive. Was there a misunderstanding about Grogu’s cough?”

“No. Not at all. Sorry.” Daelar sighed. “Bring the little guy over to the exam table.”

Without speaking, Mando held his arms out to take Grogu, and you tried to hand him over. Grogu clung to your shirt, his claws digging into the material, and he buried his face further into your neck. He grumbled, “No.” You shot Mando a look, and he reached out to help detangle Grogu from you. The little boy didn’t give in.

“Grogu.” Mando said firmly. He set a hand on his back. “Come to me, ad’ika.”

“No, no!” Grogu finally lifted his head to look at his father’s visor. He shook his head and you had to lean back to keep his ears from hitting you. Grogu whined, “Trikar’la, buir!”

Despite all the tension, despite the fact that you still only knew very, very basic Mando’a, you gasped with a swell of pride. Unable to bite back the smile you wore, you cooed. “Grogu, that was so good.” You had no idea what he said beyond referring to his father, but his words sounded like it could’ve been a full sentence. Plus, he had said it in front of Daelar, a virtual stranger. “Good job, sweetie.”

You lifted your eyes to Mando, expecting a similar reaction, but his entire frame was tense. Again, his helmet gave no signs of anger, but a seething energy radiated from him. You furrowed your brow in confusion. Grogu went back to hiding his face in the crook of your neck, hugging you, and Mando shifted his hands so one rested on your back and arm.

“Let me help you up.” Mando whispered in a kind tone. “You can sit on the exam table with him.”

“Alright.” You mumbled.

You didn’t need any help standing, but Mando kept his hands on you while you rose and all the way to the exam table. Once you sat down on the sanitation paper, Mando settled beside you. He kept his arm behind you, his hand leaning on the table by your opposite thigh. You turned to look at Mando, and because of his positioning you found yourself dangerously close to his chest. If you leaned forward you could bury your face in the crook of his neck the same way Grogu was doing to you.

His head began to turn to look at you and you quickly focused your gaze forward. Daelar came over with his stethoscope and began to listen to Grogu’s lungs. He did this for a few minutes before pulling back with a nod. Daelar cleared his throat. “I’m hearing a little wheezing. Very mild. I can prescribe a nebulizer treatment at home before he goes to bed. Hold the mask over his face and just let him breathe in the medicine.”

“Thank you.” Mando said, but his tone was more intimidating than grateful.

“I’ll send a nurse in with the boosters and the medicine.” Daelar said before rushing out of the room.

You scoffed, still in disbelief on how that had gone, but when the door closed Mando shifted so he stood directly in front of you. Now he had a hand resting on the table on either side of your thighs. You blinked in surprise at the sudden motion.

“Are you alright?” Mando asked.

You forced a chuckle. “Yeah. I mean, that guy was a total ass, but he wasn’t the first jerk I’ve dealt with. Won’t be the last.” You continued rubbing Grogu’s back, not knowing what else to do with your own hands. “Granted, I could’ve done without the gaslighting, but…” It occurred to you then that Mando hadn’t hesitated to take your side. “Thanks. For having my back, I mean.”

“Always.” Mando replied with ease. He let out a soft sigh. “I’m talking to Karga about this.”

You laughed. “You’re gonna get a doctor fired because he was rude to me?” Mando didn’t reply, but his shrug was highly unconvincing. “It’s fine.”

“He upset you. That’s not fine. Grogu said⏤”

You gasped, “Yeah! What did Grogu say?”

Mando paused before leaning back. “He said you were sad.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you glanced down to gently pull Grogu away from your chest to look at him. He stared up at you with concern in his large eyes, and you gave him a smile. “I’m okay.” You gave his head a light scratch and let your fingers trail to give his ear a light, loving tongue. “Thanks for looking out for me, little guy.”

Grogu lifted his hands toward your face so you brought it down toward him. He lightly patted your cheeks and did the same thing he did this morning⏤ pressed his forehead as close to yours as you could get it. Everyone in Nevarro showed different forms of affection to Grogu, he was too cute to not pay attention to, but the most important sign of affection was the way Mando lightly set his forehead to his. You had to assume that in Grogu’s mind, that was an important thing. The fact that he was sharing that bit of love with you was overwhelming. You tried not to linger on the thought too long this morning⏤ not wanting to fall apart⏤ but Mando being here sticking up for you without hesitation only added to the situation.

You felt yourself begin to get choked up and quickly cleared your throat.

“Here. Why don’t you go to your dad?” You held out Grogu, and Mando must have sensed your distress because he took the child with no question. You gave him a broad smile. “I⏤I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

You hopped off the exam table and as you pulled the door open Mando called out. “Are you sure you’re alright, cyar’ika?”

You let a wide smile fill your features, every bit of real, and nodded sincerely, “I am. I promise. I’m⏤ This…” Considering how grateful you felt right now, you owed him as much truth as you could give. You nodded. “This is the best I’ve felt in a really long time.”

Mando nodded once, silent. Grogu lifted a hand and gave you a small wave. You rushed out of the room and made a beeline straight for the bathroom you had passed on the way into the procedure room. Finally away from prying eyes, you leaned against the locked bathroom door and began to trace the scar along your collarbone. Even with your fingers ghosting over the ugly patch of skin, you felt happy⏤ cared for. Maker, you didn’t think you’d actually feel that way ever again.

mando’a translations:

cyar’ika: darling, sweetheart

trikar’la: sad

buir: father

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 years

Text

Could You Leave Them With Your Houseplants? Genshin Edition

a no question. probably your go to plant sitter if something comes up and you have to leave for a while. you will definitely come home to your plants not only being alive but in pristine condition. maybe there will even be a new leaf sprouting when you come back. responsible, reliable, and you can rest easy knowing if another situation arises where you have to leave your plants will be fine.

- zhongli (did his research the moment you asked. has care guides for each of your plants neatly labeled and organized as to not mix up their schedules) - kazuha (lowkey better at taking care of your plants better than you are and surprisingly in-tune with their needs as if he can speak with them. you often go to him for plant keeping advice. if he told you he could hear the whispers of nature, you’d totally believe him) - traveler (looks at tutorials to avoid killing your plants while you’re gone. your plants are safe) - ayato (didn’t exactly take care of your plants so much as had someone else look after them but hey, they’re still alive so it’s a win) - thoma (watered them, made sure they flourished, sings to them. if you’re dating ayato, he’s the one who looked after your plants at ayato’s request) - ganyu (busy as she si, ganyu made sure to schedule in ‘take care of [first]’s plants’ into her daily tasks and sends you pictures of how they are so you know they’re doing alright) - shinobu (one of her many certifications is certified plant parent. your plants will be thriving and she might even recommend more plants for you to get that help fight off pests or easy to grow herbs and vegetables so you can cook with fresh ingredients)

do not leave your houseplants under any circumstances with these individuals because you will come back to less plants than you started with. if they even remember to water them, they will definitely water them too much. even if your plant manages to recover from the lack of proper care, they’re never the same afterwards. no you’re not being dramatic, plant murderer, you know how your plants are like on a good day and it has been nothing but bad day after bad day since you’ve come back

- scaramouche (hates plants with a passion and thinks of them as hotbeds for pests. he doesn’t set out to kill your plant intentionally, but his bad vibes definitely fuck with it on an emotional level) - childe (completely forgot about it and just text you ‘😬 yo your plant isnt lookin too hot’ when it finally keeled over and died) - itto (bennett levels of disaster got drunk and haphazardly gave your plant hard vodka instead of water. when he bought you a new plant to make up for it, the plant was already infested with mealy bugs though and the infestation spread to your other plants. you are coming back to absolutely no plants) - ei (watering your plants too much and not watering them enough, an eternal constant cycle. a serial plant killer who decides to buy a plant thinking ‘this time will be different’ but it isn’t. you were a moron to trust her with them)

you HAD a plant. now it is theirs and there’s no way you’re getting it back when you return home. they developed an emotional attachment to your plants through the many odd hours of talking to them randomly and getting excited when a new leaf or bloom would sprout on a stem. now your plants have been conveniently relocated to their room and any decisions about said plant needs to be passed by them. apparently you don’t appreciate “little rain” enough. yes, they even named it

- xiao (developed an emotional attachment to your plants and the life they gave off and kinda just... stole your plant by never giving it back despite living together. you just decide to let him have it after catching him smiling softly on its watering day) - gorou (gasped at the sight of your cactus and has never looked back. would probably carry its pot everywhere if he could and his tail wags in excitement every time he sees his - er your- cactus shining vibrantly in the sun)

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holocene-sims · 3 months

Text

next // previous

august 17, 2021 4:00 a.m. paradise hotel

three hours later

[grant] you know, i didn’t get a good start to dealing with the whole “my body is broken” thing.

[henry] huh? oh, sorry, i'm awake and heard you; i was just surprised.

[grant] the first time that, um, i got really sick after my sister died, everyone just thought i was mcfucking mentally losing it. i mean, i was, but also i could not get out of bed, could not walk, couldn’t hold a toothbrush even because my hands wouldn’t move…

[grant] and my parents, who are medical professionals, wouldn’t take me to any doctor because they thought i was melodramatic.

[henry] you missed two months of school. we went different schools but i remember that. i didn’t see you for that two months either.

[grant] they only ever took me because they got tired of dealing with me, and they were getting in trouble for me being truant. and what do you know? like every other kid with something wrong, the answer was growing pains. you're tall for your age, so that's it!

[henry] doctors are stupid sometimes.

[grant] tell me about it. i lived with two idiot doctors for eighteen years. the proof is in the pudding.

[grant] and then, uhh, there’s the whole…

[grant] the whole college thing.

[grant] did i ever tell you how i became an addict, bud?

[henry] you’ve never wanted to.

[henry] i assumed it was because people try to numb childhood trauma. and i could tell something was not right with the college hockey team situation, but i didn’t know what or if that was connected at all.

[henry] it could have come from anywhere. most everyone in college does drugs. i smoked a lot of weed.

[grant] it’s both of your assumptions. there were a lot of things i needed to suppress, and i didn’t know how to control myself after tasting the slightest bit of freedom from my parents. but also…

[grant] the dudes on the hockey team hated me except sebastian. i just didn’t click. i wasn’t the right kind of person to fit in that very dudebro jock locker room.

[grant] so, on one hand, i started on a bunch of party drugs and alcohol because i figured out that when i got fucked up out of my mind, they finally found me funny, and you know how i am.

[henry] you are really desperate for people to like you and for you to not feel like you're imposing.

[grant] it’s totally true. i need to be liked. and need is the right word. it’s not as bad now, i've grown out of it a bit, but still, the feeling is there. i need to be liked and to not be anyone's burden.

[grant] yet that’s not the whole story.

[grant] i was, um, well, also illegally prescribed a lot of painkillers.

[grant] by the team's medical people.

[grant] my health issues were already there, but playing a contact sport made it worse. i'm gonna be honest, i don’t remember what happened, but i got some kind of back injury, and i went right back to that state i was in after my sister died.

[grant] seriously, same stuff. couldn’t really get out of bed, couldn’t function. at least not without...

[henry] oh god. i don’t like the way this sounds.

[grant] i was naive enough to hope that people might do the right thing for me once in my life, so i told the medical staff, like, hey, i'm suffering, and i need help. and they just kind of, uh, waved me off and said their job was to patch me up so i could be on the ice, not fix me.

[grant] i was already trouble in all the staff's eyes because i was the odd one out in the locker room, and that's not looked upon well. so, in hindsight, i should have seen literally all the red flags or should have been brave enough to just break down and see a real doctor elsewhere again, but i didn’t.

[grant] anyway, the team staff offered me opioids and i gladly took them. and they kind of sort of barely worked. so i took more. and more and more, and i mixed them with all kinds of other substances. like, i should probably be dead from the amount of mixing i did or from just the sheer volume of drugs i took. also, no one gave a fuck how many times a week i came in to ask for drugs as long as i played hockey good enough.

[henry] and you were good.

[grant] still, the pills never genuinely made me feel better. they just got me high enough to forget about suffering. that makes sense now because i have a diagnosis and have heard nothing but anti-inflammatories are going to really work on resolving the whole pain thing. too late for that, though. i'm an addict. yes, am, not was, even if i'm sober. so, i won't touch them now. i haven't in years.

[grant] but there you go! there’s the story.

[grant] that feels supremely embarrassing to have told, but i wanted to get it off my chest. you are my best friend. more than that. you're family. you're my brother. i don’t have to be afraid to tell you anything and you deserve to know the truth.

[grant] especially because you've never shied away from honesty and you stuck with me that whole time. i don’t think most addicts are lucky enough to have friends and family that patient. and i tried many, many times to push everyone away so i could destroy myself in peace. i wouldn’t blame any of you if you had given up on me.

[grant] yeah. it's not very kind of me to receive that much, um, grace and love and forgiveness, and not at least reward and thank you with the truth. the full and honest truth, even if you didn't ask for it. oh, and a window into why i am the way i am, why i keep my mouth shut.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #sims 4 storytelling #simblr #hlcn: everything the stars promised #i know i wrote this but like bro i'm proud of you for being open and honest <3 #we got real progress folks #first of all he wasn't self-pitying during his birthday and now he's telling the truth even if it's kind of ugly and painful #holocene.docx #holocene.png #hlcn: grant #hlcn: henry

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spacenintendogs · 4 months

Note

Can you share more about your degree? It sounds super interesting! Mine was just pretty straight forward (literature) lol.

sure!!

horticulture is never rlly easy to explain bc there's the basic definition of like "the art or practice of garden cultivation and management" according to the oxford dictionary (that i googled lol) but it's like. so many "hard" sciences and "soft" sciences mixed together. my first class was intro to horticulture and one of our tasks was to legit make our own definition.

i always explain it as the study of the art and science behind plants and how we apply them to our environments, human made or not.

i just have a two year degree bc i went to community college but it's skdkskd usually enough to get a job in the industry & work your way up. my degree was also very very hands on. during the 2020-2021 lockdown i had to go on campus despite the rest of it being closed (obv we were masked & stayed outside) but it was for classes like plant id courses, nursery production, etc

my fave classes were entomology (study of insects) & plant pathology (diseases caused by pathogens & environmental conditions!!). i also loved plant propagation (how to grow seeds!!!!) and it led to how i chose my certification in greenhouse production!! i learned basically how a greenhouse runs & how to manage it!! (i have a second certificate in permaculture (permanent agriculture in which you learn how to garden but it's a self sustaining ecosystem based on where u live!!) but that is based on a number of hours completed rather than taking a bunch of classes)

there is also a huge push for sustainability! lots of my professors had their docorates and masters in climate science and were very open & honest abt the way of the world & how gray it is in terms of what we make advancements in. (first class ever we talked abt gmos which are a touchy subject a lot of the time. they have their bads and goods. it's very messy as a topic & no clear answer on what to do bc they can't just get rid gmos but also? can't we do better with them?)

it's also learning abt how the industry in terms of sales & how plants grown travel. learning at shipments & the amt of mileage with a semi truck vs other forms of transport. how much each stop in the supply chain gets when you buy groceries (shopping local vs. big box stores).

i also did a project with my old high school in designing an outdoor classroom for them & learned abt designing a landscape (this was specifically one using mostly native plants!)

we would go to local forest preserves to learn about different ecosystems and biomes and why native plants are best but also how the majority of plants brought over, like, 80%, are not invasive. we did learn abt invasive plants as well and were very carefully instructed on proper control for pests (ranging from plants to insects to bacteria to virus... altho if your plant catches a virus... godspeed). chemical controls are ALWAYS a last resort.

we would go to local nurseries and greenhouses and farms to learn abt how they run!!!

it was just so much hands on learning and better understanding how the world works while also being told straight up where the world is heading (esp with climate change which will lead to inevitable zone shifting for what plants can grow where) and it's just augh!! so broad idek what to specifically go in on!! it's an amazing field!!

#i didn't even get into agricultural studies and arboriculture (trees) and landscape design & management (my least fave tbh)#we also had our own farm on campus that provided vegetables for the cafeteria during the warm seasons #and had a farmers market one day a week #we had a plant sale every year and our classes would basically be the ones that GROW THE PLANTS for the sales #literal hands on experience throughout #i am always sad i struggle with finding smth where i live now that's in my field but #i'm hopeful....#rose answers #evilwriter37 #thank u for asking!!!

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mari-lair · 10 months

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(Kannagi AU: Part 1)

Aoi had considered taking her own life many times, particularly resentful towards the village, sure her death should be something she decide, not a safety token for people that always treat her as if she was another species.

Teru beat Akane until he is unconscious cause the boy doesn’t know how to give up. He would be fine with letting Akane sleep in the bloody grass, sure kindness won’t give him a wake up call to their situation, but Aoi looked so worried when she asked to take care of him, not let him die, that Teru let her clean his injuries and personally carried him somewhere more comfortable to lie down, making sure Aoi is within his sight when he does so. Teru pretend is all for her, but he grows to care about Akane too, trapping him when Akane comes back ready to begin a fight he is in no condition to start, and letting the unconscious boy sleep in his bed while he takes Aoi out on flower field walks.

Aoi told Teru he is one of the kindest persons she have met after he helped her take care of a sick Akane. Teru told her he feel the same about her, and both felt a strange mix of disagreement with the other judgment, appreciation, and even a bit of joy.

Akane was conflicted if he should help a village willing to kill Aoi, but despite making his dislike clear all the time he could tell people wanted to guarantee the safety of their loved ones, which he could empathize with, even if he despise their approach to use her friend as a scapegoat. Anyone that dared to say something bad about Aoi or imply she should die already would be beaten with no mercy even if Akane get punished for his violence after.

Akane used wooden sticks as a weapon at first, too young and weak to be trusted with a sword, but he slowly grew into the best non exorcist fighter in the village. Lack of spiritual energy make it so he can’t destroy monster's souls, but he can make them feel pain, buying enough time for the exorcists to do their job, which saved more than a few people.

Teru gave him the same protective bracelet he had given Aoi when he got hurt by a monster, greatly confusing Akane, who has no idea how to feel about the demon that stand in the way of Aoi rescue yet makes sure she is happy, looking after her better than anyone in this village and randomly helping Akane too.

Aoi still winces when she hears Teru land a hard blow on Akane, or when Akane manages to hurt Teru, hating how they both can smile kindly at her despite their lives being ruined by her, but she grows to feel some twisted sort of appreciation when she takes care of their wounds. Teru notices this, and she explains that it is the only thing outside her plants that make her feel like she has some worth alive too, that prove she is capable of good of her own. (Even if deep down she can't fool herself and know they are hurt in the first place because of her, that she just likes the feeling of being trusted with their very lives.)

Aoi asked Teru if he would like to escape with her and Akane, and while Teru had smiled at the tought, he had said no, spending the rest of the night talking about his dear family, which he haven’t been allowed to visit since his duties with Aoi.

A week before her death day Akane grows visibly more desperate and Aoi talk with Teru, making him promise to take care of Akane when she is gone, “He will be sad, but make sure he isn’t alone. Keep him company, as you’ve done to me” which Teru agree.

One of the main reasons she doesn’t want to die is beacuse they’ll be sad, and the other is that they might move on. (She felt awful for hating the idea of them being happier without her, aware once Akane and Teru move on from her she will have nothing, but she keep these feelings to herself.)

On his quest to find a powerful supernatural, Akane nearly dies a few times, spending far too much time with nothing to give him hope. When he desperately wish he had more time, he is found by an old man that reek of supernatural energy. The old man offers him a heavy wood clock that he claims can stop time: For every minute Akane stop time, the old man will steal one year of his lifespan. If the clock breaks, Akane will die.

Akane accepts the old man clock and hurries to the village as fast as he can while carrying the weight of his life in his hands, he reaches Aoi’s house at night, a few hours before her sacrifice. He isn’t surprised to see Teru and Aoi awake past midnight, but he doesn’t expect Teru to rush toward him with rage when he notices the cursed clock.

He stops Teru’s time before he can do anything, already very familiar with all his tricks and strategies after fighting Teru for most of his life. Akane uses 15 years of his lifespan, unaware the exorcist has resistance to any supernatural power and will not stay frozen in time for 15 minutes.

Aoi is horrified by the turn of event, she had yelled for him to let go and had to be dragged out, even if she didn’t resist nearly as hard as she could, part of her still wanting to run away with him. Far far away from this dreadful life (even if she wanted Teru to came too)

Teru only stays frozen in time for six minutes, but he is panicked to not see either Aoi when he is able to move again, expecting Akane to pull something crazy after abruptly stoping his rescue attempts so close to Aoi’s death day, but not that he would sell his soul for power.

#tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk #aoi akane #akane aoi #teru minamoto #minamoto teru #terukaneaoi #i really need to do more terukaneaoi content their tag is lacking #all the tags comments in the first part hyped me up! thank you!#kannagi au

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al9ayf · 2 years

Text

ᥫ᭡ 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 | carlos oliveira x f!reader

✧ chapter 1 :: confess

｡˚ summary: after being separated for 3 months, you and carlos finally were reunited in raccoon city. only he doesn’t know the true reason as to why you were gone for so long.

｡˚ word count: 5.81k

｡˚ content warning(s) :: slight gore

you always knew that you were destined for success. despite failure constantly surrounding you at all times, you knew that your mind could send you to places you always had it set to. you are just incredibly smart with whatever you do, but it was also what turned your life around.

your father was almost like you, if not just like you. he was incredibly smart and was a workaholic, and that it was got him a spot to work with umbrella. during that time, your family didn’t live where his job was located, so your father would stay there until you could visit him during school breaks and summer months. it brought your family very good income, but it also destroyed the tight bond you all once had.

growing up as a mixed kid in the 80’s was incredibly difficult for you. no matter where you went, you were never accepted. you were either too much of this or too little of that. your only secureness was the love of your parents that would soon be ripped apart. right after your dad moved away to the midwest, you and your mom fought like hell. you hated going back home after school because it was just terrifying. all you did was fight. and it hurt so bad because she was all you had, and it seemed like she wanted nothing to do with you.

during the summer months when you went to go visit your father, you attended many of umbrella’s summer camps for the youth. and because you spent many summers or school breaks there, it was no surprise that the corporate took notice of your smarts. just at the ripe age of fifteen, umbrella had offered you a job position straight out of high school. you were happy. you were excited. you were gonna live with your dad again and have about the same job. you were very ready for the future to come.

the summer before you were supposed to graduate from high school was the summer where both of your parents got divorced. your mother essentially wanted to start a brand new life, and that involved slowly pushing you and your father away. her actions is what caused you to start rebelling against her. you started doing shit you weren’t supposed to do, and would occasionally sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to go hangout with some older men. you didn’t care about the dangers. you were hurt enough already, and never got the attention you deserved from your mother. so you were gonna seek it yourself.

one night, when you were seventeen, you decided to take a shortcut through the bad side of town to get back home quicker. you knew some of the men living there, so you felt safe enough to take this road alone. you just wanted to go back home before the sun was up and your mother noticed you had snuck out. you didn’t want to deal with her, especially since you may have been just a tiny bit tipsy.

you saw a group of men sitting in front of a house, smoking or doing whatever men do. as you were coming up to them, your eyes locked with one of the guys leaning against the front of the house. you almost stopped walking because of his appearance. you have never seen somebody so perfect. a smile crept on your lips when you walked by him. he suddenly moved away from the house and towards you. you stopped walking immediately when he reached out to grab your arm.

you were swayed by his appearance and confidence, and just leaned into the touch. he introduced himself as carlos, and how somebody as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking around this part of town all alone at night, especially at this late hour. you could immediately hear the flirtatious tone in his voice. you smiled a bit brighter and told him that you wouldn’t have met him if you weren’t out this late, to which he only smirked at your smooth reply. this immediately sealed the deal with you. you knew you were in love.

you walked away ten minutes later with his phone number written on your arm, and when you got back home, you fell asleep in your bed thinking about him.

four months go by and you graduate from high school. you started dating carlos not even a week after you met, and you felt yourself falling more in love with him each day. because he worked with a terrorist group, you could only see him during certain hours of the day, which meant sneaking out of your house more than usual for you. but you didn’t care. you were so madly in love with him that you would do anything just to be with him. but somehow, your mother found out about you having a boyfriend who was not so much of a good guy, and flipped the fuck out.

the night she found out, hell broke loose in your house. she yelled, you screamed; she threw shit, you dodged it; she hit you, you hit her back. it was all so violent, and it just hit the line for you. that was the last straw. when the argument finally ended and the two of you went to bed, you immediately went into action. you took almost everything you owned and stuffed it into two suitcases, and even took shit from around the house that held sentimental value to you. you left your mom a note on your bedside table which said that you had ran away to marry the only person who has ever understood you: carlos.

and when the both of you turned eighteen, you got married. it was the happiest time of your fucking shit-show of a life, but it all spiraled out of control when carlos got caught and sentenced to death. since you were working with umbrella, and they saw the potential that carlos had for their military, they saved him. the two of you moved to the united states and lived a somewhat normal life there. you also often visited your father for a while until he had to take a business trip to europe, but after that, you didn’t hear much from him.

soon, you would find out why.

you were to be set on a new project. you were at first excited to attend the meeting, only to leave it with a heavy heart and mixed feelings. you were no longer going to work on your normal projects. you were now going to help destroy life itself. you were now going to strengthen a virus that will probably destroy mankind. and you were “forced” to do it all for the sake of somebody you love so much. you couldn’t do shit.

in june of 1998, carlos gave you a kiss goodbye before you left for your business trip to raccoon city. and that was the last time he would ever see of you or hear from you.

—

it all happened so fast. one thing led to another and here you are running through the streets of raccoon city with only a pistol and a couple of bullets on you. you knew you wouldn’t last long with it, so your plan was to get to some safety immediately. there were more out here than just a shit ton of zombies.

you were working in your office at nest two when you and your coworkers got the message that the t-virus had spread. it was through rats, they said, and it was all william’s fault. his love for the g-virus and t-virus destroyed all of your work; all the hard work everybody did to make it succeed. and one by one all of your coworkers had turned, leaving only you to escape from nest a few days later. and so you left with what you had. at this point, all you wanted to do was go back home.

you carefully walked down the eerily quiet streets of the once bustling city. where people who were out shopping with their families only a few days ago now laid dead on the ground, some even getting eaten by zombies. broken glass and fallen street lights littered the streets like typical trash. cars were crashed into the sides of buildings or were just fucked up in general. and the amount of fires lighting up the night sky was as common as seeing a dumpster behind a building. everything looked like it had came straight out of an action or horror movie.

you stuck close to the shadows and nearby buildings to avoid getting detected. you didn’t want anybody or anything noticing you, especially the cannibals all around the fucking place. when you made your way towards the heart of downtown, you saw the mess getting worser. you could now hear a couple of gunshots here and there and a couple of zombie cries. you felt like most people were out hiding somewhere around here. but despite hearing the sound of those gunshots, you only felt less safe. hell, you felt even more on edge and even more terrified. your heart rate has never been so high, and your knuckles have never been such a light color before. the pistol could possibly break under your death grip.

despite only having a few bullets, you were thankful that you only had to take down a few zombies. the idea of killing those “things” (that were humans once) killed you on the inside. despite already knowing the dangers of the t-virus, you never imagined it to be this way. nobody could’ve. but you couldn’t care about what just happened anyway. you had to go back home. you wanted to go back home and be back with your husband. that was your sole motivation.

the harsh wind blew on your dirty and bloody lab-coat as you ran opposite of the direction it was blowing towards. your umbrella id card that hung around your neck flew right up to your face, annoying you a couple times. the only reason why you kept it on was because you had a feeling that you would possibly need to use it. you knew that getting out of the city wasn’t going to be so easy. after running for so long, you finally turned onto an empty corner where you could let out a deep breath and take a short break. you were definitely not meant for this type of shit. your feet were hurting and so did your heart. it hasn’t even been a couple hours but this city was already suffocating most of the life out of you.

you leaned against the building behind you and placed your hand on your chest, feeling how hard your heart was beating as you tried to regain your composure. you needed to build up some more energy and courage before setting out again. after a few minutes, you finally felt well enough to continue on your journey. right as you turned the corner to head into the alleyway, a zombie popped out and grabbed you. you didn’t scream though. you couldn’t and you wouldn’t. you only gasped loudly as it pinned you against the wall. it knocked the pistol out of your hands as you struggled to keep it away from you. it was so strong. you almost started to cry when it kept inching closer and closer to you.

you shut your eyes as you kept moving your hands all around its chest, focusing on your strength to push the fucking thing off of you. and that’s when you felt it. you screamed out in pain as the damn thing bit the side of your left hand. you opened up your eyes and managed to pull your hand out of its mouth before it could bite it off. despite the obvious pain you were in, you still used both hands to keep it off of you. and despite this all happening in less than thirty seconds, it all felt like hours to you. you needed some help.

that’s when a bullet rang out, and you looked up at the zombies head to see that it got shot right in between the eyes. you managed to push the now dead zombie off of you, throwing it onto the ground. you let out a few deep breaths before looking back up to see the person who saved you. your breath hitched in your throat as you felt your heart drop. it was all so ironic, wasn’t it?

carlos stood just a few feet in front of you, holding an assault rifle close to his chest. his eyes were wide and just full of shock. you both just stood there staring at each other in utter disbelief. no hugs, no kisses, just… nothing. you couldn’t even fucking move. he moved his rifle down a bit, almost dropping it onto the floor. but he recomposed himself and brought it back up. it was all just a big fucking shockwave.

you gulped your spit down almost painfully and took a step towards him. “carlos…”

your voice cracked subtly when you uttered his name. it was so soft, so caring, as if he was the one who had gotten attacked. but your voice didn’t soothe him. no, it only angered him. he came up to you, only to bend down and grab your pistol to hand it back to you. you became confused at his odd and distant behavior when he grabbed your shoulder. you tried to look at his face but his hair covered his eyes. you opened your mouth to say something but he was quick to cut you off.

“let’s get you outta here,” he said, just above a whisper. “it’s still dangerous.”

you slapped his hand away, causing him to look up into your eyes. you glared at him, becoming frustrated with how he was treating you. it was as if you were a stranger. “is that all you have to say?”

“you’re not gonna fucking say anything else to your wife?!” you almost yelled out of disbelief.

“i haven’t had a wife in three fucking months because i haven’t heard from you in three fucking months!” he yelled back.

you softened the look on your face right after he snapped at you. he was right. how could you expect affection from your husband when you disappeared from him suddenly. he only shook his head at you before grabbing your shoulder once again and pushing you to walk alongside him. you looked up at him, and he glanced down at your solemn-looking expression. he looked back up, avoiding all eye contact with you.

“there’s a subway station just around the corner,” carlos said. you could still hear the anger in his tone, and the irritation in his voice. “it’s the only way out of the city at this point.”

you both turned around the corner not even a minute later and headed inside a random building. carlos led you down some stairs and a few broken escalators before you saw the subway. you silently thanked god that you were safe now once you saw it. carlos moved away from you, brushing his shoulder up against yours as he walked walked a few feet in front of you. you both stopped walking right in front of the subway.

carlos glanced around, making sure that everything was all right down here and in order. you shifted your weight from one foot to another and placed a hand on your hip. as soon as he stopped scanning the area, he let out a relieved sigh.

“we’re safe,” carlos said, relieved.

“seems so,” you said. “but let’s see how stable this place will be until disaster strikes.”

you spat out your words like it was venom. your sarcasm and tone only made the both of you angrier at each other. the tension between you two grew with each passing second as you just stood there and glared at each other. carlos eventually directed his gaze to the entry of the subway and he nudged his gun towards it.

“ladies first.” he said. you didn’t reply to him.

as carlos trailed behind you when you entered the car, you were only met with unfamiliar faces. victims sat alone and scared on the seats in the next car over while a few u.b.c.s members walked around the car you were already standing in. you looked down beside you, already catching the gaze of an injured russian man. he narrowed his eyes at both you and carlos.

“another civilian?” he asked in his thick and rich russian accent.

“kind of,” said carlos, walking up to him. “this is actually my wife, capt’…”

he raised his eyebrows at your appearance, and immediately scanned what you were wearing. you quickly hid your hand in your pocket to avoid any attention towards it. both of your eyes locked again.

“so, you’re the infamous y/n who disappeared?” he asked.

you rolled your eyes as you walked towards the seat in front of him. you glanced up at carlos who seemed to be avoiding your eye contact as he just kept on looking at his captain. you scoffed.

“there’s more to the story,” you said, taking a seat. “and you are?”

he shifted in his seat, holding onto his injured side. “mikhail viktor.” you pursed your lips into a smile and nodded.

“nice to know…” you muttered.

it became quiet in the train car, with the only sound you could hear was your heart rate and your breathing. carlos couldn’t stand being in the same room with you for any longer, and decided to “head off and do some work”. you stood up from your seat and called out his name, only for him to walk off without looking back. you let out a frustrated sigh and turned around, holding back tears due to how distant he was. but you inhaled sharply and turned your head to face mikhail who couldn’t give less of a shit about the situation.

“this is why i didn’t get married…” he said.

you ignored his snarky reply and headed towards the first aid kit next to him, opening it up to see what was in there. you grabbed the whole box and moved back to your spot to start fixing up your hand, making sure that your back was turned to mikhail. your bite looked the exact same, but it still hurt like hell. you cleaned it all up before applying a bandage to it, then admired your skill work at how you made it look like you were injured by a random object. you passed the first aid kit back to him. but instead of stopping there, you bent down next to him to take a closer look at his injury. he raised an eyebrow at your behavior.

“i can help with that if you want,” you said.

“since when did scientists become doctors?” he asked, moving his arm away to allow you to work on him.

you sat up next to him and helped remove his vest off. “don’t underestimate me.”

as you started to treat his wound, you finally felt him relax under your touch. mikhail leaned back in his seat and let out a sigh.

“so, why did you leave carlos?” he asked.

“i didn’t leave him,” you said, rolling your eyes. “umbrella… they screwed me over.”

you moved away from him to search for something in the kit. “i wasn’t allowed to contact anybody outside of the workplace i was in. for fucks sake, i don’t even know the city at all and i’ve been here for three fucking months.”

you turned back around and started bandaging mikhail up. he winced in pain whenever you applied slight pressure to the wound, but you didn’t care at the slight jolts. as long as you finish this up, he should start to heal up a bit.

“doesn’t sound like fun,” mikhail joked.

“no, it wasn’t,” you muttered, standing back up.

you walked back over to your seat and sat back down. “i just don’t even know where to begin-

you were cut off when carlos entered the train suddenly. you looked up at him, then at the woman who appeared behind him. she barely looked at you for a second before moving carlos out of the way and coming right up to your face. you kept your cool though and stood straight up as she stood right in front of you.

“you’re fuckin’ joking me…” she said. “this is insane.”

you didn’t say anything. hell, you didn’t even know what to say. you didn’t even know who this woman was or why she was all up in your face. but you just let her persist with whatever she wanted to do because you were intrigued.

“i’ve been trying to figure you out for ages,” she said. “in only a small amount of time, you became one of umbrella’s top scientists. i don’t know how you did it…”

you backed up a bit to get some space in between you two, but she just stepped closer to you. you glared at her, trying to signal that she should back the fuck up. but she didn’t.

“how i ended up in my position should be no concern to you,” you said.

“oh, but it is,” she replied.

“jill, come on-“

she quickly cut carlos off by speaking over him. “i don’t think you know who your wife is anymore, carlos.”

jill whipped her head around to look at him. “she’s just another one of umbrella’s rats,” she said, slowly turning her head back to look at you. “you’re just another scientist who helped create this mess—who helped create fucking bioweapons. who probably even helped create that fucking monster after my ass!”

she brought her face up to yours, glaring straight into your eyes. “you’re just a terrorist hidden underneath that lab coat of yours,” she poked your collarbone, which instantly made you push her back.

you pushed her so harshly that she almost fell onto carlos, and it only pissed you off when he seemed more concerned about her than you. he was just letting her attack you while he stood there watching. but you couldn’t blame him. you don’t know who you are anymore, let alone how he was feeling.

you looked at jill, softening your gaze to show that you weren’t a threat to her. “you don’t even know half of it,” you said. “you think i want to do this shit?”

she softened her look as well, but still kept glaring at you. you inhaled sharply at her intimidating stare. “i’m being fucking forced to do all this shit just so i don’t get a damn bullet in carlos’ head,” you said. “and i don’t give a shit if you don’t believe me because i’m going to try to fix this damn mess.”

you took a quick look at carlos, seeing how his face contorted into different expressions. you didn’t know if he believed you or not. you then looked at jill, who seemed very hesitant about your claims. it was just the two of them in the car at this point, so their energy felt so overwhelming to you. they seemed against you, but you couldn’t blame them at all.

“look, i won’t excuse the fact that i helped create bioweapons and destroy the city with the virus, but i won’t just sit back and do nothing while i watch my—this creation destroy everything.“

“but what’re you going to do?” carlos asked. “there’s no way we can save the city.”

you shook your head. “my capabilities are beyond your expectations.”

“i figured that out the hard way.”

you frowned at the comeback. jill ignored the two of you and cleared her throat to get your attention. “there’s no time for go-backs and “sorry’s”. you can’t save the city after destroying it completely.”

you opened up your mouth to say something but she cut you off. “you can’t do jack shit anymore.”

“i don’t give a shit about your fucking opinion!” you yelled. “i want to fix this shit! and even if i can fix it, i know that none of your guys’ opinions will change about me! but i don’t care anymore because i just want to do something fucking right in my life…”

you quickly walked past the two of them, making sure to bump your shoulder into carlos’. you left the subway car with this intense amount of pressure on your shoulders. you felt the weight of guilt and hate on them. everything was your fault despite how much you tried to make it seem like it wasn’t, even though it was. you leaned against the wall and held your head, gritting your teeth in pain as you felt a headache come through.

all your co-workers who were either dead or undead now left you with a burden. a heavy one too. you only hoped that bard was still alive. god you hope he’s alive because he can help fix everything. and if only you had jill’s trust… shit! you just wanted to collapse onto the floor and fucking cry. you wiped away your threatening tears with your free hand and continued to stand there in an eery silence.

that’s when carlos stepped out of the subway car a few moments later and headed right for you. you caught his glance and slowly pushed yourself off the wall as you moved your hand away from your face. carlos stopped a few inches away from you, and the two of you just stared at each other in silence for a second or two. he then cleared his throat and looked the other way from your disturbing glare.

you rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything about it. “so, who’s the chick?” you asked, crossing your arms.

he looked back at you. “her name’s jill valentine,” he said. “she’s apart of s.t.a.r.s. turns out she’s been on umbrella’s ass for a few months and has some sort of-“

you quickly cut him off. “agenda against them?”

“i guess you can put it that way,” he muttered. you sighed and leaned against the wall again. carlos stayed silent for a few seconds as he watched you uncomfortably shift from one leg to another. he had so many questions and no answers.

“what happened, y/n?” he asked.

you looked up at him. “a lot,” you said. “i don’t even know where to start…” you frowned and looked down at the floor.

“well, you can start by explaining to me how you’re caught up in all this mess,” said carlos.

“it’s complicated,” you muttered.

“complicated my ass! you were gone for three months, y/n. three! i thought you left me!”

“how could you ever think that?!” you snapped, standing back up.

he gave you an “oh really” look before glaring at you. “no calls, no emails, no letters, and no sign of life. you were gone! i felt better knowing that you were off somewhere in the world than dead.”

“oh, jeez…” you muttered, placing your hand on your head.

“but now that i know you were off doin’ some fucking terrorist shit-“

you cut him off again. “it was against my own will. how many times do i have to repeat that?!”

“enough times to make me understand why you left!”

you felt tears start forming in your eyes. “carlos…” you muttered. “i can’t tell you right now-“

“why? why can’t you tell me?”

“because there is so much going on right now! and there’s so much more important shit to do than tell you a whole goddamn story!”

“you’re important to me, y/n! this is important to us!”

he threw his hands up in the air and gripped the back of his head, wanting to pull his hair out. “jesus…”

you furrowed your eyebrows and took a step closer to him. “carlos-“

this time, he cut you off. “do you not trust me or something?”

“it’s not that…” you muttered. “i’m just… scared.”

“you’re scared? you’re fucking scared?”

he laughed in disbelief. “you betrayed me, y/n.”

“i’m starting to regret ever marrying you…”

it all happened to fast. in an instant you slapped him across the face with the back of your hand. you felt it burn with how hard you hit him. “you asshole!” you yelled, crying.

“i’m risking my whole fucking life just for you to live!” you cried. you turned around and walked away, not giving him any chance to say anything. you held back more tears from falling as you quickly wiped your face with your hands. enough about him. every sentence was like venom.

your heart was beating so fast as you stepped onto the subway car. you never thought you would hit carlos. he was your husband, your soulmate, but at this point he just felt like your biggest enemy. you didn’t want to speak to him, nor look at him. you were just so angry. why couldn’t he just wait? you let out a deep breath as you sat down on the seat nearest to the door.

you looked up to see jill staring at you from where she was sitting. she looked more tired than angry, but you couldn’t give a shit at this point. you then turned your head to face mikhail who seemed to be talking to somebody. you turned your head a bit to see who it was, only to recognize the person. nicholai. just his appearance made you tense. he looked up to see you, and he too tensed up a bit. despite it being a very quick interaction, it seemed to catch jill’s attention.

you knew nicholai by his files at umbrella. you never actually met each other, but he knew you and you knew him. you knew exactly what he has done and is planning to do. you chose to remain silent though, and quickly turned your head to face the ground. no way were you going to cause more fucking drama.

that’s when mikhail stood up from his seat and exited the subway car, nicholai following behind. a few seconds later, they both came back in and sat down. the doors shut behind them and you suddenly felt the subway come to life. you glanced over at mikhail. “wait, we’re leaving?”

“why else would we close the doors?” mikhail asked sarcastically.

“but, carlos-“

“he will be fine. the subway will come back for him and the others after it drops us off.”

you quickly stood up from your seat and looked behind you through the window. carlos stood with another guy, talking to him about god knows what. a sudden gut-wrenching feeling settled in your heart. you just saw him and now you were leaving again. that’s when he glanced up and met your eyes. you were about to walk up to the window when the subway suddenly started moving. the sudden jolt caused you to stumble a few feet backwards, and you almost fell onto the floor if it wasn’t for jill reaching out and grabbing you. she pulled you down to the seat next to her and you quickly turned your head to face her.

“i’m so sorry,” you said. you spoke fast, almost a bit too fast. jill didn’t say anything at first and just ignored your apology. she then turned around to face you.

“we’re gonna be together for the next couple of hours,” she said. “so if it’s not too “complicated” for you to explain to me what the hell is going on, would you mind?”

you weren’t surprised that she overheard your conversation with carlos, just a bit embarrassed though. you let out a deep sigh and turned to face her.

“as i said earlier, i’m being forced to work with umbrella,” you started.

“but why?” jill asked.

“because of carlos…”

you leaned back in your seat and turned your head to face the ground. “umbrella saved him, so they’re holding that against me to work with them.”

“jesus…” muttered jill. she shook her head in disbelief. you could only nod at her answer.

“but why you?” she asked.

“i think you know why,” you said, looking at her. “after accusing me of it...”

you sat back up and crossed your legs onto the seat, facing jill as you suddenly got serious. she became intrigued at your change of attitude. “you don’t even know the half of it…” you muttered.

“i figured.” she said.

the rest of the ride was her asking you various of questions, to which you reluctantly answered. though, the whole time, you felt so much regret by not telling carlos all of this. you thought he would be leaving with you guys but guess not. you regretted it so bad. you wish you could have told him this first.

mid-conversation, you saw nicholai walk over to the seat where mikhail was sitting in. jill grabbed your arm, stopping you from talking. she quirked her head towards nicholai. “what’s up with him? i saw that exchange you two had earlier.”

you raised your eyebrows at her. “wouldn’t expect less from a cop,” you said sarcastically.

jill opened up her mouth to say something in reply only to be interrupted when the subway went dark and suddenly started shaking violently. you and jill stood up at the same time, and so did mikhail. “what the fuck was that?” jill asked, going towards the door.

she stopped when it slid open, revealing a tyrant standing there menacingly. you felt goosebumps all over your body as you saw it. you felt this incredible fear take over your body. it looked terrifying, but jill on the other hand, just became angry at its appearance.

“how is this fucker not dead yet?!” she yelled, walking towards it. you quickly grabbed her arm and started leading her away from it.

“we’ve gotta go!” you exclaimed, turning around. you, mikhail, and jill all ran towards the door behind you. when jill went to go open it up it was locked. she started banging on it when she saw nicholai standing there. you could only watch in horror as he walked away smiling, leaving you all to die.

next thing you know, mikhail was grabbed and brought up to nemesis. only for him to mutter something before blowing the whole damn car up. the explosion derailed the train, causing you to hit your head on the side of the wall and immediately black out.

you never thought silence would ever befall you so quickly, and yet, it did so so easily.

ch. 2 !

#carlos x reader #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira #jill valentine #re3 #resident evil 3 #re3r #resident evil 3 remake #female reader #poc reader #mixed reader #2nd pov #series

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bryndeavour · 2 years

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I think there’s something really brilliant about Aabria and Oscar’s handling of Wuvvy and Rue in ACoFaF. Wuvvy initially presented as fully devoted and supportive of Rue, encouraging them in seeking romance (even if they don’t like it) and enjoying the Bloom and revealing themself... and Rue swept up in that as they wrote that first letter - that ill fated one - that inevitably broke the sanctity of their relationship because of Rue’s decision to Command the letter’s destruction in their PANIC. After that - the duel and onward - were messy messy decisions by Wuvvy fueled by hurt and jealousy and of course then leaning into their position and their court - even so much as mixing with the big wigs in the Parlour scene.

It’s such a real feeling situation, despite being faeries and whatnot, of Coming Out and realizing that even the people who are closest to you who encourage you are truly not always on board for what being your true self means and the rippling changes in your life that come from that. That by opening yourself up to the world and others in full honesty, that you no longer fit your past molds, and that can sometimes drive a rift between people because those others are unable to grow alongside you. Because despite them telling you that they LOVE YOU for the real you, they don’t - truly - because they don’t SUPPORT what that means for you or understand why changes must happen. Wuvvy thinks that saying ‘I love you’ is truth, but its really just a mask of their own and something they have told themself and told Rue so many times that they want it to be Enough. Wuvvy hasn’t actually told Rue the truth about their feelings - I’m talking about lying by omission - and really the best show of caring and support and compassion is mutual communication and mutual growth. The first step to healing is also saying ‘this thing that has happened has hurt me and I need you to know that so we can work together move past the hurt’. And sometimes life changes can take people different directions but the way this has gone indicates that split may be a bad one, when it could in fact be understood and caring and mutual.

It feels very real and something I think alot of people feel as they get older and find themselves. Also that when that open communication never happens and those people grow apart, the looking back is sort of bittersweet - but also not anything that feels like you should make the effort to repair - because you really are different people and you have found the support and love elsewhere and many people love you and you love them, with full acceptance and honesty and care without guilt or with strings attached.

#acofaf #dimension 20 #a court of fey and flowers #wuvvy #delloso de la rue #im not sure i have written any exposition in all my years of d20 watching #this series specifically hits so many beats for me that i cant help screaming about

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evilassistantbutnotmean · 7 months

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My to-do list as an Evil Assistant!

1| sweep up broken glass ✔️

2| put all my stuff away ✔️

3| contact the goon/right hand man union about my old boss

4| get a better EVIL uniform

5| put away the glowing liquids Doctor Shay told me to put away ✔️

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

About Assistant

Name: Assistant Ross (Last name is Ross)

Age: 22

Gender: Gender non-conforming, Any pronouns other then she/her

Sexuality: Boy kisser, will kiss enbys, won’t kiss girls

Favorite animal: leaf slug

Appearence: made by me!

Fun facts about assistant

old hero boss accidentally poured coffee mixed with acid onto his face (zuko-like scar)

Knows first-aid when experiments go wrong

Adhd, special interest is cups, science, lemon demon, and being silly

They have been on tumblr for many years, just made this account recently

It’s hair grows realy fast so they’ve given up on cutting it in favor of getting the occasional trim once it gets long enough for aer to trip on

Heavy-ass sleeper, Assistant can, has, and will sleep for at most 12 hours before being unable to sleep for the next 24 hours (frequent caffeine intake doesn’t help)

They love eating but have a realy fast metabolism so they struggle to gain weight

Majored in engineering in collage! Often helps Sir make machines to trap heros

uper bad gifted kid burnout, sped through a few grades during grade-school and absolutely crashed in late high school and most of collage

Tags I use

Assistant lore - info and funfacts about Assistant

Friend Talking - Assistants friend (Gay lover) Alex who has access to their account is posting, they talk in italic, bold Text

Lore posts that aren’t on here:

Assistant in Minecraft: https://www.tumblr.com/tumblertown-headcanons/743960037549129728/minecraft-things-assistant-is-a-redstone-genius

TumblrTowne lore post: https://www.tumblr.com/cryptidwithaninternetconnection/741102432362414080/an-official-tumblrtowne-lore-post?source=share

Post about Assistants top surgary: https://www.tumblr.com/evilhelperbutnotmean/735923725366706176/cool-im-gonna-buy-some-snacks-and-put-this-into

Assistants partner, Alex! Aka friend :3

I’ll update with an actual drawing if Alex soon! :DD

#unreality #evilblr #evil tumblr #Assistant Lore #Assistants Hibernation #Assistant and the foundation #friend talking #Alex lore #ooc post

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storiesbybean · 2 years

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Feel the music Part 1

Eddie x Deaf!AFAB!Reader

Description: Corroded Coffin plays at the bar your friends take you too and you can’t tell him no when he offers you his number. It’s super fun until you realize you never told him you’re technically deaf.

A/N: well it’s been a while but here’s the first part thank you all for your patience.I thought this would be a once shot but I got writing and coujdjt stop. ~love, Bean

Word count: 3.6k

People like to pity you when they think you can’t hear them. While partially true it’s not like you were totally deaf, you could hear airplanes and the occasionally very loud dog if you were close enough. Over all the world was muted to you. You could only hear things if it was ear splittingly loud for others. People judge when you watch tv louder than anyone else wants it, they stare when you have to put your ear to the speakers to hear what the order was at the drive through, they even had the audacity to tell you to quiet down when you spoke at a volume you could hear. However through all the struggles of growing up not hearing the world like others do, especially in a one horse town like Hawkins, there was always a constant that no one batted an eye at.

Many people don’t know but Indiana was very big on their music scene. Nothing much to do other than work, smoke weed or go to local dives to see which hometown band was trying their best. The thump of the speakers whether good or bad felt right. It let you hear the music the way everyone else did instead of through your crackling hearing aid. (It used to be hearing aids but the left one broke at work after your boss stepped on it.) Most weren’t great from what noise you could pick up. A lot were very bad. Country was rough to feel as all the deep baritone twang of acoustic guitars. Jazz is always a cacophony no matter your ability to hear things. Over all you’d come to enjoy one brand above all others. Rock and roll. Classic, alternative, even any kind of metal you could sneak past your folks. All the cassettes held a feeling like no other. That’s why your friends told you that you just had to join them this weekend. There was a band performing at a bar “who rocked out so hard they broke a speaker at their last gig”. If it was true there was no way you could miss it.

“I’ll be there.” You tried to keep your excitement at bay. The prospect of mind numbing riffs rattling around in your head for an hour was much needed after the week you’d had.

The food wasn’t too bad for being greasy and definitely on the top ten ways to die young, though who wouldn’t die young for another boat of cheese fries. Being able to speak to your friends over the already noisy room was nice. You’d taught them some signs when you’d all first met back in middle school it’d developed to the point they would respond verbally for you to read lips only to send back a mixed response of signing and trying to speak over the crowd. It had gotten to the volume you actually heard the joined noise of everyone in your unassisted ear.

‘When is the show?’ You signed half minded still trying to look around for this band they’d raved about. ‘I’m getting bored’

“Patience young padawan,” your friend Camile moved her hands in a very subtle ‘chill’ motion, “you’ll get to hug the speakers soon. Just eat. I'll let you know when they announce them.”

You toss an extra crispy fry at her blonde head. She always treated you like a baby when you went out. Relying on them to tell you announcements was annoying but essentially most of the time.

—-

A hand was placed on your arm before your friends got up motioning you to come with them. ‘It’s time’ Freddie haphazard tried to tell you before the crowd swallowed you up. Every elbow to the ribs was worth it just to stand at the foot of the stage, the air already vibrating from the speakers being on. Your eyes traced to the band these dweebs had been on about. ‘Corroded Coffin’ seemed like a bunch of dorks too just with instruments, but like cool dorks. They all had that distinct look of people who worshiped the ground Mötley Crüe walked on, as they should, leather jackets and varying shirts with different bands on them. The drummer looked like he wore one they’d made themselves with a sharpie and a kind of neat design. Freddie tried to point out who they all were. He’d been in a school club thing with them a year prior. There was Gareth on drums, Jeff played guitar but it seemed just rhythm and then the bassist name fell away from you as you eyeballed the lead guitarist. He had that hair and this look of total concentration. Be still your heart.

The more you took in the band the stronger the speaker's spell got. Rippling and crackling causing a little burst of sound to hit your chest. Your ribs rattled as the guitarist opened the first song. His fret work was solidly better than most kids his age. A lot of those highschool bands were eh on technique but this bushy haired brunette with the dangerously large rings on his fingers was not the usual. As much as your brain wanted to soak in more of the pretty man your heart was racing from how loud they were. The volume had reached the point you could hear it beyond the dull cotton filled void your usual hearing provided. Giving your working aid a tap crackled into working submission giving you some idea what kind of music they actually made.

A hand grabbed yours, putting it up to cheer on the band. Camile was all in and clearly a little tipsy. Waving her hand to get the bassist's attention. That girl was hopeless. Joining in on the hype was great. Their music hit the itch in the back of your skull making you jump and bang your head. Then like a beam of light from heaven (or maybe just the lighting guy) everything seemed to focus on him.

Some kids back in school told you about the Munson boy when you'd transferred into a “regular” school. How he was a metal head with a gift for that guitar but a druggy satan worshiper so best to steer clear. You hadn’t paid the man much thought during your four years there, sticking to getting out of the hell hole that is Hawkins High. The rip of his skilled fingers making that Warlock cry out in sweet electric pain pulled you out of thoughts. The vibrations were sweet melodious suffering and you couldn’t help just cheer him on. Druggy satan worshiper or not, this man had you hooked.

—

Your friends have all but sloshed themselves silly with drinks leaving you as the designated driver. Wrangling the gang was similar to corralling toddlers. Camile was crying, Freddie was trying to get a stray cat to be his friend and somehow you’d been the fool thinking Holder could do exactly that, hold her liquor.

“You’re all a pain in my ass, get in the car! Fred! Fred no, it's got rabies!” You shout trying to peel him off the sidewalk as Holder kept telling you she thought she was going to puke directly on the seats of your car. You had to take a deep breath before pulling Holder from the back seat just in time for her to hurl on your tire. You’d had enough. “IN THE CAR OR I'M LEAVING YOU ALL HERE!“

“Yeah, you drunks, listen to your Highness.” The words didn’t hit your left side ear but clearly they’d hit all your friends cause they just stared at him. In an instant it was as if a spell was over them, they stopped acting like idiots and got in the car very normally, no fussing or telling you to stop nagging.

You turned to see who’d gotten them to behave and had to smile. The mess of sweat pressed curls stuck to his neck and forehead after all the hard work he and the other boys put in his dual layered jacket slung over his shoulder too showing off more of his arms and the few tattoos you could see. As you took in Eddie you noticed his hands were both full, one held his amp and the other his case. Clearly he was just trying to leave but he was nice enough to help you. Very much to your relief.

“Thank you, they’re a little out of it.” You walk just a smidge closer to see his face better. “Your show was really good by the way, you guys are better than this place realizes.”

A flaming flush went over the pale of his cheeks. Eddie smiled real big and shifted in his sneakers. “You really liked it?”

“Christ, yes. My chest still feels it.” The pull of your smile was starting to make your cheeks hurt. You hat to take a moment to talk about how fun their set was and all the things you’d liked about it. Ok maybe you’d had a few drinks but that was a while ago something had to be wrong with you to just keep talking. Yet Eddie didn’t seem to mind. Just listening to you praise him and his bandmates. When you ran out of breath he just chuckled slightly and you remembered he was carrying very heavy items. They were probably killing his arms!

“Oh I’m sorry you’re carrying those they’re probably heavy uh I should shut up.” Heat rolled up your neck all the way to your ears. How could you have been so rude to some dude just trying to leave.

Eddie shook his head wanting to hear none of it from you. “I don’t mind but if you’re really that sorry you could help me. I wouldn’t mind an extra set of hands before you take your friends home.” Was…was he flirting with you or just being coy. Your expression caused Eddie to start the beautiful art of back peddling.

He lost the cocky disposition and became sort of bashful and quiet. His mouth moved a thousand miles a minute all at once. Something about not making you work and just trying to be friendly. You could hardly read him. Both your hands shot up to chest level to halt his runaway mind. The motion made him stop rambling long enough for you to reach out and grab his amp.

“I can’t stay long but I’ll help you get your stuff put away.” The box amp was scary heavy. It was a wonder he could carry it while the two of you chatted. You looked it over before recognizing the design. It was one of those tube amps you’d seen in the magazines at the local music store. He really was like a real rockstar. The thought made you titter softly under your breath.

Eddie leaned in front of you waving his now free hand. “Hey, are you still in there? I was talking to you.” His brow was raised slightly given your lack of response to him. Shit what did he say? You had to break the news to him about your hearing soon before he thought you were just rude.

“Sorry I uh,” you tugged the inside fat of your lip between your teeth, “I was just thinking about how it’s not every day you meet a rockstar.” You’d just have to hope you could keep up the lie of nothing being wrong with you, especially if he thought you’d lied about liking the band just cause you ‘can’t hear’. At least pretended for a chance to see him again.

The excuse seemed to work on him all the same causing him to get all twirly with his hair and smiling. A little part of you hoped his speaking voice was just as pretty as his singing one. Trying to imagine how he sounded was taking a toll on your little awestruck head. He’d offered you his home phone number after talking with you the whole way to his van. He’d told you it was in case you ever wanted to talk about Corroded Coffin more or music or like whatever. Cute.

“Yeah! I’ll be sure to call you sometime.”

—-

Everything tumbled like a pile of bricks the next morning. You’d let the three drunkards sleep at your place provided Camile took the couch abd Freddie slept in the basement with Holder who slept on an old play mat your parents kept “for grand babies' ' which was not happening anytime soon. It’d gone well, no wake up calls or soiled upholstery until you got to the kitchen making a pot of coffee for the gang. All was well for a solid four and a half minutes.

The force of a pillow hurling at your head from the living room nearly made you drop your coffee cup. Camile was waving a sheet of notebook paper and saying something. Christ on a cracker, she was ranting and pointing to the paper like it was a ransom note. Her lunatic ravings brought the others up from the basement.

“EDDIE MUNSON?! You got his number. You talked to him! My perfect bestest only one, what were you thinking?” Camile seemed pissed. Of course she had her reasons. Her family and their family kind of hated each other. Eddie apparently harassed her little brother every chance he got. Not his fault Jason was a nightmare to humanity these days.

Freddie and Holder both went for the paper, they had to see for themselves! They both cornered Camile snatching it with lightning speed, giggling all the same.

‘Super glad we met. I’d love to hear more about your thoughts Princess

(765) 438-****

~ Eddie (with the guitar)’

“Mom has a boyfriend~” Freddie danced around with the sheet above his head dangling it out of reach of Camile who was trying her hardest to hop and take it back. The trio practically ran around your family's living room Freddie handing it off to Holder then over Camile head to Freddie over the coffee table. One of them was going to trip and get hurt, it was certain. When one of them did you were going to laugh.

You walked into the chaos taking the paper from Holder before she could hand it off. “Not a boyfriend, just a friend that’s a boy. He’s really cool. We like the same bands and geek stuff.” It wasn’t a lie. Eddie was a friend nothing more.

Camile crossed her arms pouting like a child. “So you’re going to call him? How are you going to respond to him? He knows you can’t hear right?” The jab at your disability stung but it was true. Talking on the phone would be super difficult since you’d need a translator. Still didn’t mean her anger hurt you any less.

When you met Camile in fourth grade you’d only just been transferred to a hearing school. Your speech therapy hadn’t been going well so you avoided talking to anyone hoping to be equally as ignored. Yet little Cam was determined to make you talk to her. She’d ask you questions in class or take your notebook from you to rile you up. It’d ended up with you telling her to leave you alone only for her to laugh. She’d laughed for probably five minutes before grabbing you.

“You talk funny. We’ll fix it. Mom says I talk too much anyways so I'll teach you to not sound like a stuffy duck.”

There were still times she’d correct your enunciation because you’d thought it sounded out phonetically. By the time Freddie and Holder came around you’d had two years of Camille’s teaching and extensive speech therapy so they were less concerned with it or maybe less bothered having the weird friend.

Holder grabbed your hand squeezing it tight to pull you back from crying. Every carver was mean to the bone, Camile just happened to stick around you enough you sorta forgave it.

“I’ll help you out, whether you want to talk to him just call me up and I’ll come over.” Holder's smile was safe. Never held ill intentions.

“I’d like that.”

“Of course. It’s what friends do,” her never words came out in a hiss, “they say helpful and encouraging things. Right Cammie?”

Still pouting and turning her nose up Camile was having none of it. Little did she know her disapproval only made the seed of rebellion grow. You’d talk to Eddie again, go out to do stuff together, you might even visit the trailer of the satan worshiper yourself and tell her all about it. Then she’d have a reason to fuss.

The four of you all seemed pretty content after Holder told you she’d help you out. Freddie suggested waiting to call him. Make the geek wait for his ‘princess’ but it felt wrong to ignore someone just to make them want to talk to you more. After a long winded explanation on why waiting creates healthy horny relationships you opted to just drop the idea of calling Eddie at all. It had been stupid to let a guy get in your head this way. You’d just wait till Camile and Fred left before giving Holder the receiver. She didn’t seem interested in going in on the other two suggestions of never call or call late at night when you’re-whoa wait nope not that one. You leaned in closer to Holder sneakily dropping your hearing aid in her hand and closing your eyes. The whole action made her shake next to you hopefully in a laugh.

“Wait, did she seriously just do that?” Camile looked beyond offended.

Freddie put a hand on her which seemed to calm her down enough that the vein in her forehead (which was throbbing since the rantings of the early morning) was finally calming down.

“Just leave it alone. She doesn’t want to hear it anymore. Besides don’t you have work today little miss beauty school~”

Another pillow, this time to Freddie’s devious little face.

——-

Call him. Just pick up the phone and dial. He’s not going to be mad if you called him. It’s after work hours. Don’t freak out.

Sat in your lap was the manila telephone. Holder had stayed the day since her family was away and her boyfriend had pissed her off with some lame excuse of why his work buddies were more important than her. She kept handing you the paper when you’d set it down to fret.

“If you don’t do it I will. He’s just a dude. Dudes are dumb and don’t care if you call. If he didn’t want you to call he wouldn’t have given you his number. Now gimme that.”

Receiver was snatched from you as she punched in the numbers with the most confidence that a woman has ever shown. Holder signed that it was ringing. Ringing. The look on her face was seeming to fall before she waved her hand motioning you close.

‘Munson, what do you want?’

“Hey, I’m looking for Eddie? We met at his concert last night and he gave me this number.”

Holder snickered as she mouthed “He’s shouting for Eddie, hold on”. Waiting in silence was agony. Even when Holder mentioned there was the sound of someone tripping and cursing. Maybe you’d misread the situation.

“Hey if it’s not the Princess. I thought you wouldn’t call, got nervous you’d lost my number.”

Nervous laughter bubbled around in your chest. Lost his number? If only he kne2w how you'd be fretting over the ten digits like they'd attack if you left them alone. “No, just taking care of my drunks.” yeah and freking about calling him at all.

Holder did not translate for a minute. She was on strike for the drunk's comment most likely. It was true she and Freddie were a pain to deal with and Cammie with her rant about how Eddie was of the devil or whatever. It takes a lot of energy to be the responsible one. She rolled her eyes at your pleading look, “fine but no more mean stuff, brat.” Holder fixed her hands, explaining that Eddie laughed and asked how the “drunks” were holding up.

“Good, sent them off a little while ago, all the hangovers dealt with. I'm down a half bottle of aspirin but the price of being the sober friend is a heavy one to carry,” your voice carried so sweetly, fully expressing your glee that this was even happening.

Eddie's warmth made Holder cringe. Yeah she wouldn't be volunteering for this anytime soon. ‘Get on with it. Just ask if he wants to meet up.’ Holder was trying to just rush and get to the good stuff, the smoochie stuff as freddie so lovingly put it.

“I uh actually was wondering if you'd like to catch lunch and maybe ice cream afterwards?”

“Are you asking me out, princess?”

Yes. endlessly yes. “You would love that wouldn't you, Eddie? How about we start with lunch and I'll let you know if I was asking you out as friends or something else.” Can’t make life too easy on him now can you.

“As you wish, your highness. I'm free in about two hours if you'd like; I'll even come pick you up if you like.” Holder added a little eyebrow wiggle to show how flirty Eddie had said it. It made you laugh shamelessly.

“Yeah I'm free but you're not driving me. Thats murderer shit. We can meet at Rick’s on the corner of Willow and Rutherford. Lets say three?” your heart was racing, the muscle threatened to leap out of your throat waiting for a reply. Holders expecting expression only made it worse. She bit her lip and closed her eyes.

“See you there, princess.”

#young writer #original work #fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things

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