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awkward-tension-art · 16 days

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Darkness on Umbara Chp.9 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 8. Chapter 10.

Plans and Arguments

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, reader insert, names of non-canon dead clones, Mentions of breakdowns, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Minors DNI

“Those missiles have a 100 megaton yield!”

Fives was exasperated at the new plan Krell had thrown at Rex, “We won’t even make it to the delta!”

“What can I do?” The captain met the ARC troopers eyes steadily, “I’ve tried to reason with him. Those are the orders.”

March on the capital despite the massive missiles that rained from the sky. Fucking brilliant.

Jesse sighed, “Great, another suicide mission.” he continued to inspect the console, typing on the screen, “The capital is too well armed.”

“Why does it seem like he has it out for clones?” Tup chimed in from where he continued to study the mechanics of the starships.

“Are we sure Krell isn’t, you know, fucking insane?” You mumbled, continuing to look at the data of the anomaly you saw earlier.

Dogma scoffed, “I think you're all overreacting,” He was steadfast in his belief in the general, “Obviously General Krell knows what he's doing. do you really think he doesn't care if he loses men?”

Yes. you nearly responded, but opted to remain quiet.

Jesse crossed his arms, “I’m not saying that,” He kept his voice steady, doing well at remaining calm, “But I do think his desire for victory has blinded him to the fact that there are lives at stake.”

You nodded, “Field doctors keep in contact with one another, and several doctors I knew have been killed under his command, not to mention the number of troopers,” Your hands were still as you focused on the conversation, “I’ve never seen such a high number of casualties from a single general.”

“He’s out of control!” Fives snapped, “He is not acting like the other jedi. He has no respect for us.”

I don’t think he has respect for anyone but himself. You thought bitterly.

Rex stepped forward, trying to calm the ARC troopers ire, “Listen, I don’t agree with him either, but I don’t have a better plan.”

“What about using these starfighters to destroy the supply ship?” Fives continued, motioning to the ships that were in different stages of maintenance.

“Our fleet has been trying, The Umbarans have it as protected as the capital.” The 501st captain rubbed his temple, clearly reaching his own limit.

“But we've got their access codes and their own hardware,” Fives stepped up next to Jesse, looking confident.

Rex, on the other hand, looked more surprised and hopeful, “You were able to crack it?”

“Mhm!” the ARC trooper gave a friendly punch to Jesse’s shoulder, earning a smile and a head shake from the other trooper, “We can sneak right past their blockade, get to where our ships can’t.” He clasped his hands in front of him, as if begging.

The captain looked down and rubbed his chin, he remained silent, mentally planning and strategizing with this new information.

Fives’ continued, as if trying to convince him, “If we take out that supply ship, then we cut off arms to the capital.”

Rex smiled, looking up and meeting his friend's eye, “This is why you’re an ARC trooper,” He put a hand on his hip, now with a proud smirk, “I’ll talk to Krell, see what we can do.”

Fives practically cheered, and you laughed at his joyful display. The ARC troopers' energy and good mood always amazed you.

The captain shook his head and gave a soft laugh before turning and walking out of the hangar. You, however, got up and followed him, “Captain, I don’t know where the barracks are.” you stated, with a small grin, “Can you walk me to them?”

“Mesh’la,” he rolled his eyes but he matched your smile, “Of course.”

Now that you two had semi-privacy, “Are you ok?” you asked him quietly.

“Once this campaign is done, I will be.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “General Krell is…a challenging General to work with.”

You brushed your hand against his as a small sign of affection, “You’re doing the best you can given the circumstances.”

He gave you a grateful, yet exhausted look.

In the far distance, potentially a mile away, Umbaran missiles slammed down, exploding into a bright green and orange light. Despite how far the strike was, you could still feel the vibrations in the ground.

“Damnit, they never give up.” Rex sighed, “This won’t stop until that supply ship is taken care of.”

“Hopefully Krell will listen,” You said as the doors to another section, the living quarters, of the airbase opened.

“He hasn’t so far.” your lover led you through the halls before pressing a button next to a door. They slide open, revealing Rex’s temporary quarters and office. To the Umbarans, the private room must’ve belonged to the leader of the airbase. Once the doors closed, he held your face in his gloved hands.

“I want you to rest, mesh’la,” He murmured, kissing your forehead tenderly, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your exhaustion.”

“I can handle it.” you put your hands over his, “You and the others have been-.”

“We are built for this,” He interrupted you, “We’re clones, we can handle days without rest.”

You stared into his beautiful brown eyes, “Rex…”

“Please, mesh’la,” He whispered, “I can’t…I don’t think I can handle it if you're hurt again. Or worse.” He was pleading with you, gaze filled with an emotional desperation. It was rare to see him so unsteady. So unsure and even…afraid.

Your lovely captain was in despair. Yes, you’ve lost soldiers, but Rex has lost brothers.

You moved your hand and stroked his cheek, “Ok…” your words were soft, “Alright Rex, I’ll get some rest.”

He let out a small, relieved breath before kissing your forehead again, “Thank you.”

As promised, you allowed yourself to sleep once he was gone again. It was comical how as soon as you laid down on the stiff bed, you were completely out. It felt like your brain just turned off. You didn’t even dream, so exhausted your consciousness just faded out of existence.

When you awoke, it was due to yelling.

“Where is the honor in marching blindly to our deaths?!”

Fives.

You groggily sat up, rubbing your face in your hands with a pounding headache. You could hear Rex respond, but his voice was quieter and much calmer. It was hard to make out the words.

However, you heard Fives loud and clear through the door, “I'm sorry. I cannot just follow orders when I know they're wrong! Especially when lives are at stake!”

Your lover answered him, and again, he was quiet.

“I do support it. I do!” Fives was angry and frustrated, that much was clear, “But I am not just another number! None of us are!”

You admired the ARC trooper for his independence. He was a powerhouse on the battlefield and never backed down. Your friend was a very rebellious, free thinker, but intelligent enough to know when to fall in line.

He was a good friend who you loved dearly.

Surprisingly, you heard Rex’s voice, “Fives, where are you going?”

The ARC trooper responded with something, but you couldn’t hear him clearly that time.

You sighed and stood, stretching your arms over your head. How long has it been…?

With a quick check of the time, it had only been a few hours. Everything was sore and you were still tired. It would take more than a nap to help, apparently…

The door to the captains quarters opened and Rex seemed surprised to see you, “You should still be asleep.” He approached to kiss your cheek.

“I heard yelling. Is everything ok?” You asked, leaning into the peck.

“The march on the capital will continue as originally planned.” He sighed, “the men are understandably against it.”

“You are too.” You pointed out.

He nodded, looking downright tired, “I am, and if we had the time and the training, I’d go along with Fives’ plan. I know General Skywalker would with no question. But Krell has orders.”

You pet your lover’s cheek, “Rex, would you really follow every single order Krell gives?”

“I am duty bound to follow.” He responded.

“Even if you know they’re wrong?”

“I…” the captain sighed, “I believe in the Republic. I would fight and die for it without question.”

He’s avoiding the question. Pushing too hard might stress him further. You leaned forward and kissed his forehead, “You're a good soldier, Rex. but you're also a man with your own thoughts and feelings.”

He melted under your touch, “Without you, I’d probably have gone insane by now.” he mumbled, earning a small giggle from you.

“You’re doing the best you can,” Your words were tender and filled with love, “I need to check on the med bay, but I want you to get some sleep. Even if it's just a nap.” before he could argue, you booped his nose gently with your finger.

Rex let out a small chuckle, “Alright mesh’la, I’ll get some rest.” He pecked your cheek before you walked out of his private quarters. Getting to the med bay was quick and easy, and as soon as Kix saw you, he nodded in greeting.

Back to work. You were the 501st field doctor, you had a job to do, “What supplies do we have?”

Your medic friend listed everything you had.

Bandages, tourniquets, laser cauterizers, laser scalpel, bacta, patches, emergency suture kits

It was better than before taking the airbase, but the amount of such items was the real concern. Perhaps in a standard battle you’d be able to help everyone, but with Krell’s overwhelming need to kill as many soldiers as possible, It would be difficult.

You swallowed, taking in the low numbers. Triage would be crucial. Managing pain wouldn’t be the priority. Save bacta for critical wounds. Sutures and bandages for anything else.

“I’m going to talk to Krell.” You informed Kix, “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t get killed.” He called to you as you left.

Your steps took you up to the tower. Were you nervous? Potentially. If he took a step out of line, you might end up snapping and laying a fist in his face. Your anxiety came from your lack of faith in your own restraint. You’ve hit your limit, and if the damn Jedi pushed you too far, you might break.

Once the doors opened, you were met with Appo and Hick typing at a console while Krell looked over the Umbaran holomap.

“Doctor,” He greeted you rather…politely, “I didn’t call for you.”

“I have concerns, General.” You stepped inside, “I am aware of the impending march on the capital, but Kix and I do not have the supplies to keep everyone alive.”

Pong Krell looked up at you, eyes looking down right uninterested in what you have to say, “You have an extreme lack of faith in your skills, Doctor.”

“I am not doubting my skills,” You responded, tone becoming icy, “I am limited by the supplies I don’t have. I can save lives, but if I don't have the medical supplies to do so…”

The General pressed a button and the map changed. He went back to ignoring you, “And what do you propose I do about your misuse of much needed medical equipment?”

Misuse!?

You swallowed, “Respectfully, General, I think for the sake of the men, you should work with Captain Rex and think of another strategy to take the capital.”

“We do not have time!” he slammed his fist down, causing you and the other soldiers around to jump, “Every moment we waste, we are getting that much further away from taking Umbara for the Republic! Now I know your judgment is clouded by your useless feelings surrounding these clones, but winning this war is the priority!”

“Respectfully, General,” You backed down. All that bravado you told yourself earlier melted away. He had the power to court martial you, or worse, “My…feelings are concern for my patients. I am a doctor first, before I am a soldier.”

“Is it duty you feel, or something else?” He raised his head, “You spend an awful lot of time with the Captain, don’t you.”

Your blood ran cold.

He knew.

Your throat ran dry. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Appo look up from his console.

Back track. Now.

“Captain Rex and I have known eachother since the beginning of the war,” you explained, “We are friends, and I trust him with my life.”

“Just friends?” He rubbed his chin, “Your judgment is indeed clouded, Doctor. Your bias is hindering your view of the reality of this war.” The volume of his voice picked up until he was damn near shouting at you, “You can’t have friends on the battlefield! If you worry about those clones, you’ll never achieve victory!”

Wrath burned under your skin. You wanted to shout back, but you didn’t have Fives’ courage, “I understand General, but these men, not just Rex, have protected me. Saved my life on the battlefield. In turn I do my best to keep them alive. It’s my duty to care for them. Because of this, I am able to view things objectively during battle.”

Krell was silent for a moment before he gave a slimy smirk, “Rex, huh?”

Shit.

“Captain Rex, sir.” you cleared your throat and you caught Hick pausing in his typing on the console, “Since we are not currently on the battlefield, It’s easy for me to forget rank and titles. Forgive me, General.”

“I suppose you call General Skywalker by his name as well,” He turned to face the window, indicating he was done with you, “I am a General, Doctor. You will do well not to make that mistake with me. You’re dismissed.”

You saluted and turned, leaving the tower as quickly as possible.

Once on the ground, you spotted Fives and Hardcase walking to the hangar where the starships were being kept. With a glance back up to the tower, you followed the troopers.

Oh what trouble were they about to get into?

#reader insert #captain rex x you #captain rex x reader #star wars x reader #tcw x reader #star wars tcw #the clone wars x reader #umbara arc #captain rex #arc trooper fives #pong krell #star wars

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zhvakinnn · 1 month

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SBG cuddling with a male s/o pt 2

-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-

Since i kept forgetting to do this request I'll be doing it now, sorry if i made you wait for so long, i had a part time job and uh when I'm on my break i draw cuz yeah but now I'm doing it!!

-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-

Warning's: none just fluff

Characters: Ashlyn, Taylor, tyler

✨as always i don't know much English so if something is wrong correct me✨

Ashlyn Banner

She's very affectionate but not in public

She likes your relationship private and your okay with it, you respect her boundaries

But everyone started to notice a tiny of you both change whenever you get or almost hurt she always ran up to you and check if your okay

When when your sparing she's more gentle to you but sometimes rough (she's manhandling us)

When mostly you two are sometimes inseparable

When they confront you, you tried to denied it but you we're a bad liar sorry

Ever since they found out you were in a relationship you were now glued to Ashlyn like you don't want her to let go of you do ,like she will just disappear

She wants her privacy but you live in her privacy

But sometimes she really just wants to be left out of a minute you will but she will come back hugging you

Here it is whenever she's tired you cuddle her, stress? Cuddle, hurt? Cuddle

Everyone might think she hates your touch but reality she deeply inlove with you

She needs your hug 24/7 and you need her as a pillow

Bonus!

When you meet her parents you were so nervous once you step on that door their already glaring at you when kept asking you questions like

'are you doing drugs?'

'are in a gang?'

' i swear if you hurt my daughter your gonna get-'

" mom, dad stop it your scaring him"

She said it In a non-chalant tone

You wanna deny but it's true you feel like your gonna pee your pants

But not a moment later they started to like you then they pull out those parents who embarrassed their child with a baby picture

"and look! Here Ashlyn when she first walk"

"oh she's nake-"

"MOM STOP!"

Taylor Hernandez

When Tyler found out your relationship damn his like a lion that can eat you

He was very protective of Taylor

You tried everything to convince that you'll never leave her nor hurt her

Then Taylor came butting in saying that you'll never hurt her, you smiled when she said that because she has her full trust on you

Whenever you're sad she always hug You even in public or in private she doesn't care she always do PDA's and she's not embarrassed of it

But if you don't like you're relationship public she will ask for your consent, she isn't the type to force anyone

But as a male you protect her but sometimes she just protect herself but still

You know that quote?

"I'm not protecting you because you're a woman, I'm protect you because you're my woman"

She will get so flustered so much

And that scene where tyler you know

🌳

She won't stop crying so when she was sleeping you hug her thigthly letting her cry on your chest

"its okay, I'm here ok?, I'm sure Tyler will be just alright he will be with us in no time"

Her smile was sad but beautiful under the moonlight

"thank you.."

She nuzzle in you're neck she you kissed her forehead you two stay like that for a while

"get a room"

"shut up Aiden"

Tyler Hernandez

Like Ashlyn he tend to keep your relationship private but he didn't kept a secret his relationship with, with the gang

Taylor supports you and already calling you her brother-in-law

They all support you two but sometimes uh.. aiden is a teased?

"haha gay"

Ben already handle that and your surprise tyler didn't get mad at it

"why would I be mad? I am really gay anyway, but mostly I'm gay for him"

You just wanna float away from his words

When have a match you were there to support him in a ' platonic' way

But once he won his gonna win a thousand of kisses and cuddles in private

He doesn't do PDA on public but he sometimes put his hand on your hand under the table while eating

"get a room"

Oh right cuddles!

He always loves your hug's

When he lose his game he was mad and yeah

But your there to calm him down so sometimes you go to their place and greet his mom and straight to his room

"its ok you did you're best"

He tried to complain but you stopped him saying every detail about the game and how proud you are of him

He calmed down and hugged you

He always wants the big spoon but today his not gonna do that

You comforted him by saying that he did great and yeah you were proud of him

"oh sorry am i disturbing something" :D

"Taylor?!"

"hi"

-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-

Yeah that's it sorry if its uh short i couldn't think more🤷🏻

But anyways hope y'all like it!

Oh wait tags: @mac-the-mac-an-cheess-eater

I hope this is you:')

Masterlist | about me | rules

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iblameashley · 11 months

Text

Shattered

Civilian | Male | Gay

2,847 words Content: Minor warning for mention of panic attack. Mention of PTSD, Anger, Angst.

Follow up to I'm punny and you know it.

Simon ’Ghost’ Riley | Male/GN Reader

!!!SFW!!!

You walk into a war zone of Simon's making. Well, you actually kicked in a door to do it, but that's not the point. The man is not OK, and while you may not be able to help him, you can clean up the mess.

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

It hadn't taken you very long to figure out 'Si' was in the military. Truth be told, you suspected it from the first time you met at the coffee shop. It was during your last appointment with him that it was confirmed. He was wearing a very tight tee and you could make out the outline of dog-tags as the cotton shirt hugged their form. Being respectful of his privacy, however, you said nothing.

You had six appointments under your belt with him over the course of four months. It was during this appointment that he told you he had a 'trip' coming up, and wasn't sure how long it was going to take. You nodded and said you understood. Simon also took the time to explain that the location was 'remote' and he likely wouldn't have much cell reception. “Well...” You pondered, “When you do have service, and if you're free, let me know and I'll send you a joke or a meme.” You offered.

His eyes seemed to soften at the offer, and you could swear there was a smile under his mask. He nodded firmly in agreement, and with that, you had a new contract with him while he was away.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + ***

The first two week were silent, and you went about both your day jobs and your side-gig as a friend-for-hire. You toiled away at paperwork and emails until your eyes burned red from dryness. Late nights turned into early mornings and you periodically checked your phone for a hint of life from Si.

It was nearly half way through week three when your phone dinged at an ungodly hour. You rolled over in bed and were blinded by the light from the screen. “Fuck.” You groan, shutting your eyes quickly. It was from Si.

SI: Have about three hours before I have to go back to work. I was promised jokes and memes.

“Fucking Christ, Si.” You huffed. “Gotta pull a joke out of my ass at..” You glanced at the clock in the upper corner of this cornea-destroying device. “four-forty-seven.”

You head flopped back on the pillow with a 'whump' and you clutched the phone at your chest. You had promised to do this for him, and he was on his 'trip'. It wasn't his fault you forgot time zones existed. So you pursed your lips and thought of a joke through the fogginess of your sleepy mind.

You: Why were the middle ages called the Dark Ages? You: Because there were too many Knights. SI: That's fucking terrible. You: You're welcome.

And that was the start of your on-again, off-again communication with Si as he was on his 'trip.'

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + **

Six weeks in, you got another message from him. This time is was at least at a reasonable hour. The sun had cast the sky bright reds and pinks as it set, and you had been sitting on the balcony of your flat enjoying the cool breeze and downtime. Your workload had shifted and you had more free time. On top of that, one of your Friental clients was on vacation, so you felt like you could really relax.

The dinging and buzzing from your phone caught your attention. It was Si, again.

Si: Hit me. You: Coffee has a really rough time in my house... You: It gets mugged every day. Si: Hah.

Then another message the day after.

Si: Gotta make it quick, you around?

You were. You always were.

You: What did the socks say to the pants? You: Sup, britches. Si: Where the fuck do you get these?

A part of you pictured him laughing boisterously at your bad jokes, but deep down you knew that wasn't the case. He might huff out a low 'hah,' but Si, as far as you knew, was not a loud laughter. It would betray his broody lone-wolf persona. Still, you had a fond memory of the first time you did get a response from him. The light shove of his boot against your back.

And now that you thought about it, he broke the rules. No touching. You wondered if he had realized as well. You shook your head. No matter, the rules were really there for you.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + **

It was just over two months in when you got a notification from the app that 'Si' had requested another appointment. He had access to your calendar, so you opened it up and clicked accept. He had requested a visit from you in four days.

“Must be back home,” You said to yourself. There was a stupid smile plastered over your face. Si might be a big, quiet, moping tank of a man, but he was easy to handle. You knew what was expected with him, and he was fine with letting you babble at length about any and everything that crossed your mind. He never seemed annoyed or frustrated about your endless chatter. He would simply sit there and look at you with those unassuming brown eyes. He'd nod and grunt and give one word answers every once in a while, to remind you he really was listening. If anything, he took the pressure off you, allowing you to be yourself.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + **

You were not prepared for what you would find when you arrived at his flat. You stood at the door and knocked. No answer. You looked around the dimly lit hallway of the building and hummed to yourself anxiously.

'Maybe he forgot?' You mused. You foot tapped impatiently on the floor, and you kept shifting your weight from hip to hip. 'No. He wouldn't forget.' You reminded yourself. He was too structured for that. So you knocked again, harder. Still no answer. You knocked so hard the third time you sent spikes of pain up your knuckles.

“Si!” you yelled. “Are you home?” Your voice was raspy and filled with concern.

There was no response, but you did hear movement. Now your heart jumped to your throat. Was he hurt? Could he not respond for some reason? You mind flooded with the worst-case scenarios and you began to panic. Who do you call? Police? Maybe a neighbour would have a number for maintenance or the landlord. Your head shot back and forth, up one end of the hallway and down the other. You stared at the door, and finally your body reacted.

You hand reached for the doorknob and gave it a twist. To your surprise, it wasn't locked, which was unusual in itself. You couldn't imagine Si as comfortable enough to leave the door unlatched. But as you pushed it open, it caught on the chain of the upper lock and the door can to an abrupt halt. “Si?” you called in.

There was a grumbling, but no real response. “Fuck it.” You blurted out. You took a step back, sucked in a deep breath and aimed at the door. In one sharp movement, your foot connected with the door and snapped the chain from the frame. The swung open and crashed into the wall with a loud thud. You entered the flat timidly, and closed the door behind you.

Sitting at the kitchen table was Si, head in his hands and starting at the table, hunched over in a heap. You forgot how big this man was, even in this state. He was mask-less. You walked in and averted your gaze, you searched the flat frantically for his mask. It was then that you took in the disastrous state of the flat. There was garbage lying all over the place, dirty and broken dishes and even some furniture overturned and stung along the floor. Si had been home for a bit longer than you had assume, and it was not a good homecoming.

You located his mask frantically flung over the couch and you snatched it up quickly. You walked over to Si and shoved the mask under his face. “Put it on.” You remarked. “Please?” Your eyes were locked on the ceiling. He even managed to stain that.

You felt him pull the mask from your hand by the strap and you waited a few seconds before you dared to peek. He was masked, now.

Simon's face – well, his brows and eyes – were red and puffy, but he hadn't appeared to have been crying. His hair was a complete mess and his bloodshot eyes glared at you with emptiness, like he hadn't actually accepted you were here. “Better?” He asked in the most deadpanned tone you'd had heard from him.

“You look like shit, Si.” You declared before rubbing at the bridge of your nose. “Are you OK?” you muttered, knowing you were about to get the most useless of responses.

“No. Clearly, not.” he commented.

You took another look around the flat and noted all the work that had to be done. You gave an apathetic shrug and tip-toed over to the hallway closet to retrieve cleaning supplies. Carefully manoeuvring around the broken glass and ceramic that littered the floor like a mine-field. Something had set him off, an anxiety or panic attack maybe? PTSD? Didn't really matter to you, he couldn't stay like this. And since he wasn't going to offer up his feeling – his heart – for you one a plate, not that he had any left, you figured you could at least clean his home.

You started with the floors; sweeping up the fragments and remains of glassware and plates . You swept around his feet and took a bit of comfort that he was still wearing his boots. Under the table, around the fridge, and you double checked the base boards around the counter until you had a pile of his shattered property in a mound in his kitchen. Carefully you swept it into the dust-pan and placed it in a refuse bag before tossing it in one of his bins.

“What are you doing?” Simon finally remarked.

“Seems like you had a rough trip.” You declared. “I'm guessing you don't want to talk about, and that's fine. Its in our rules, after all.” You turned and beamed him a warm smile.

“You really care about my stupid rules at a time like this?” His voice was low and laced with annoyance and confusion.

“Its... kind of the foundation of our relationship, no?” You laughed. You balanced your chin on your hands, which were tenderly placed on the tip of the broom, and you wobbled it back and forth. “Something happened, and I'm not going to ask. But!” You explained. “I am going to get this place back in order because you don't live like this, and I'm not going to let you start. Isn't that what friends are for?” You shot him a wink.

“I pay you to be my friend.” The words carried an air of embarrassment and shame. Your heart ached at the sound.

You let out a frustrated breath and put the broom to the side. You turned your attention to the remaining dishes in the sink. The water rushed into the basin, splashing and bubbling as it embraced the dirty plated and utensils.

You reached into the got water and began scrubbing. The water sloshing and burbling under the movement of your hands. “I'd do it for free.” You finally admitted. You couldn't turn to look at him at first. The stack of wet, but clean dishes began to pile up in the other basin, and you could hear your heart in your ears. Feel your pulse beating, drumming, in every vein and artery.

“What?” He finally asked.

“I'd be your friend for free.” You nodded sharply at the wall in front of you. You bit at your lower lip, afraid you were breaking the rules of your contract. 'Was this too much? Too far?' you asked yourself as the silent moment moved forward.

“...why?” Simon finally choked out.

Your hands fell back into the sink, and your grip on the cutlery loosened. Your head dropped as you thought about your answer, knowing you were treading on thin ice. At least, you thought you were.

You cocked your head to the side to look at him. He was sitting at the table still, staring into the empty space between you two. His jaw worked tightly under his jaw as he ground at his teeth. You wondered if you had pissed him off, truly pissed him off.

“I... like you?” You whispered.

He snorted and shook his head. “That's the best fuckin' joke you've told yet, mate.”

You didn't really know how to respond to him. He was finally painting a picture of his self worth for you to view, and did it in so few words. Your heart sank deep into your belly as it dawn on you just how isolated his really must have been. Must be. “I mean it, Si. I'd be happy to just be your friend.”

His head dropped back down to the table. You finished the last of the forks and plopped them into the clean basin, dried your hands and pulled out your phone.

You opened up your messages and began typing.

You: What kind of music do windmills like? You: They're Metal fans.

His phone buzzed across the table and a moment later there was a gruff, hoarse chuckle. “Go fuck yourself.” He mumbled.

You: Why do Ghosts love elevators? You: Because they lift their spirits.

“Fuckin' hell.” He shook his head back and forth on the table. “I'm trying to be miserable here, can you fuck off?” You smiled at the disingenuous tone of his remark.

“Can't do it.” You shook your head and took a seat at the table.

“I won't push you to tell me whats going on, but...” You looked around at all the work still left to be done. “Can you give me something? Something to explain this?” You said waving your hands around the flat.

Simon just stared at you blankly.

“Mission go wrong?” You asked. Your words pushing at a boundary you weren't sure you had the right to touch.

His eyes widened as he took in the words that wormed their way to his brain.

“Mission? I was on a-”

You held up a hand and cut him off. Your heart was hurting at seeing this man in such a state. You didn't pity him by any means, but you wanted to reach out and let him know he could unload his burdens on you, even just a little.

“Dont.” You said curtly. “I've seen your tags.” Your fingers tapped at the table.

Simon rubbed at his eyes and let out a growl. He was most definitely annoyed with your line of questioning, but he also lacked the energy to put up a fight. He had spent the last several days having a tantrum, raging and destroying the remnants of his non-military life and wishing to sink the last of his soul into his persona. A persona he hadn't told you about.

But here you sat, staring at him with caring, concerned eyes and he couldn't understand why. He had never given you anything from this arrangement, it was entirely selfish on his part. But here you sat, your lips pursed and your fingers anxiously tapping the table.

“I failed.” He choked out. The words biting at his throat as his admission jumped from his lips. “I failed, and I got reprimanded.”

You nodded your head delicately. “Did you lose someone?” You asked.

Simon shook his head, but said nothing.

“Then it wasn't a complete failure, was it?” A smiled pulled at the corner of your lips.

Simon' hands fell to the table and he looked at you with shock. His masked puffed in and out as he breathed heavily into it.

“That's not the point.” He grunted.

You shrugged hard and stared at him. “Well... it is to me.” You fired back, a little more confrontational than you had intended. “You didn't lose anyone, and you came back home. Maybe its not a mission success, but its not a failure.”

Simon felt a crack in his armour at your comment. Like you had aimed perfectly at his heart and fired. It didn't shatter, he was too strong for that, but the impact of your words did damage. Damage he couldn't have prepared himself for. Someone cared that he came back. No one cared if he came back. He furrowed his brow, angry that your shot at him landed, but he couldn't bring himself to be truly mad at you. A piece of him lit up inside.

“Will you stay for dinner?” He finally asked.

You looked around at the kitchen and the few remaining dishes.

“We can order take away,” you chuckled. “My treat.”

Simon looked at you.

“My treat.” You reaffirmed.

Simon just nodded.

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bridgertonbabe · 3 months

Text

Bridgerton Spouses Support Group Chat #?

BSSG Group Chat

Kate: Guys can I ask you all a question?

Michael: Shoot.

Kate: Did you all go paintballing without me last week?

Message seen by everyone ✔✔

Kate: Ok it's been 24 hours since my last message and I know for a fact you've ALL seen it so what fucking gives?

Gareth: look if i send a cute video of george and you guys all flood the chat with comments and stuff then hopefully we can drown her out and lowkey gaslight her into forgetting all about it

Kate: What?!

Gareth: oh fu

Gareth sent a video

Michael: Awwwwwwwwww bless he's so adorable

Lucy: he has the cutest laugh!!! 🥰

Sophie: I can't believe he's getting so big already! 💗💗

Phillip: Cute x

Penelope: omg I love the onesie do you know where it's from?

Simon: See I told you he'd love the crawling crab.

Gareth: @ Penelope i'll ask hy

Gareth: @ Simon he can't get enough of it, it's his favourite thing atm

Kate: @ Penelope Well I got it from Bambino

Kate: And I fucking saw the message you obviously sent to the wrong GC @ Gareth , so you can all quit trying to GASLIGHT me!

Kate: Now I'll ask you again; did you or did you not all go paintballing without me?!

Simon: Ok fine we did.

Kate: AHA! I KNEW IT!

Penelope: How did you find out?

Kate: Greg asked me if I enjoyed the spouses paintballing afternoon when he came to pick Katie up yesterday.

Gareth: omfg wtf @ Lucy

Michael: Yeah rare L from you Lulu

Lucy: guys I'm sorry I forgot to take the wristband off before I got home and he instantly recognised where it was from so I had to fess up

Gareth: dammit you've jeopardised our entire set up

Lucy: no no no it's fine I swear! I know some of you guys don't have any trust in your partners but greg can keep a secret and respect our spouse group privacy! it won't get back to any of the other bridgertons, you've got to believe me!

Phillip: He literally blabbed to Kate.

Lucy: yes but only because I didn't tell him that she wasn't invited!

Kate: And why was I not invited?!

Sophie: Because you would have ruined it! You would have turned a fun afternoon into anything but just like you do with every other game and activity we've played before! You're just as bad as the Bridgertons when it comes to anything vaguely competitive and the rest of us just wanted some lighthearted fun without everything descending into chaos and the world burning around us, ok? And that is why we didn't invite you!

Phillip: Yep

Simon: Very that.

Kate: Wow.

Michael: Look Kate you've got to understand it's not you. It's just the psychopathic competitive Mr Hyde in you that scares the bajeebus out of us.

Penelope: yeah it really isn't personal

Gareth: except it is

Kate: For god's sake I'm not that bad! Sure I have my moments but that doesn't mean I should be excluded from your group activities! I can control myself! I've never done anything to cross the line enough to be compared to Mr Hyde for crying out loud!

Sophie: You accused me of faking going into labour with Alex and refused to call me an ambulance when we played Cluedo.

Simon: You keyed my car after Daph pissed you off in Monopoly.

Michael: And you threw Newton's poo on mine when I won charades.

Phillip: You've always mocked me for having panic attacks during game nights.

Penelope: You pushed Colin down the stairs.

Lucy:

Kate: Oh boo fricking hoo! I'm so sorry you're all a bunch of whiny oversensitive little babies who can't take the slightest bit of heat from some perfectly healthy competition!

Gareth:

Lucy: is the perfectly healthy competition in the room with us?

Phillip: I dread to think what you consider to be unhealthy competition.

Kate: Oh go have one of your little anxiety attacks about it then you weakling

Michael has removed Kate from the chat

Sophie: I would say I'm surprised she can stoop to a new low but I'm really not.

Lucy: and this is why I also don't regret not inviting her to laser tag or the escape room

#group chat au #bridgerton spouses

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ao3feed-tf2ships · 8 months

Text

Mann. Co. Mandatory Journal Project

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/50532661

by Doorknobbie

In order to prevent the U.S. government from accusing Mann. Co. of employee neglect, the Administrator has taken to enforcing mandatory journals for all employees. Journals are to be submitted to respective therapists during government mandated mental health check-ups. Journal entries will promptly be discarded* after submission in order to prevent potential privacy breaches.

*discarded neatly in a crate in an on-base storage closet.

You are the new recruit responsible for on-base management. Your jobs include but are not limited to weapon maintenance, file storage and retrieval, and testing and assurance of on-base security. You have sworn secrecy for all the classified- ooh, what could this be?

Words: 2860, Chapters: 5/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Scout (Team Fortress 2), Soldier (Team Fortress 2), Pyro (Team Fortress 2), Demoman (Team Fortress 2), Heavy (Team Fortress 2), Engineer (Team Fortress 2), Spy (Team Fortress 2), Medic (Team Fortress 2), Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Miss Pauling (Team Fortress 2)

Relationships: Heavy/Medic (Team Fortress 2), Demoman/Soldier (Team Fortress 2), Engineer/Spy (Team Fortress 2), Pyro & Scout (Team Fortress 2)

Additional Tags: gender neutral reader, this is entirely self indulgent, Journal Entries, Transman Reader - Freeform, reader is a new recruit, Found Family, Slow Burn, the mercs think the new recruit is soft, descriptions of medics research, descriptions of engies research, author is a bio student and not an engineer, some sciencey stuff can be explained by tf2 logic ok, i tried giving them different writing styles, blotted out words and emojis in pyros entries, pyro knows asl, sniper has a pet bird, Sort Of, I wrote the dates in day/month/year format, recruit swears excessively, pyro with they/them pronouns

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/50532661

#TF2 Heavy #TF2 Medic #HeavyMedic #Red Oktoberfest

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wooahaes · 1 year

Note

Hihi! For the ask game -

I was thinking a jun co-workers AU? I'm not sure what kind of workplace -

I'm a sucker for hospital aus and teachers being setup by students -

But I feel like an office AU or something along those lines would be cute too?

💕💕

ok i accidentally left this in my inbox for a few days, my bad!! sorry nonny!! :(

hmm... consider........ professor wen junhui... you and jun are both professors int he same english (lit) department (alongside like. wonwoo and probably hao). honestly a lot of ppl probably notice how ur offices are right next to one another, so whenever you both aren't giving lectures, one of u is sometimes chatting up the other in their office. ppl swear that ur only ever talking abt work, but like... it happens often enough tht ppl start to get suspicious, yknow? esp because both of you pretty much introduced yourselves as unmarried/single when someone asked (nosy freshmen, usually)...

plus if a student has to make up a test for any reason and one of you can't be there, the other is Always the person to go to. jun has straight up emailed his student that something came up but that you've graciously offered to let his student take their make-up test in your office, just please don't bother you too much because you're a busy person who he highly respects.

(jun isnt subtle.)

you're also in charge of like. the study abroad program that usually includes literature majors, history majors, mainly just ppl who are in the humanities, and ppl absolutely notice that (in early spring semester) jun has this fond smile on his face whenever you come around to give your spiel to his students about signing up and where to find your office. or ppl notice the fact that the two of you occasionally eat in the dining hall with other faculty, and that jun is Always listening to you with the exact same 'i am so in love with you rn' smile on his face?? or the way you bring jun coffee in the mornings.

like. its so obvious that the two of u are in love. ppl say theyve seen the way you've interacted w the theatre department!! and the jealous way jun looks at dr choi and dr lee!!!! bc seokmin is always so warm toward you!!! hes obviously jealous!!! why doesnt he just ask u out already!!! or u ask him out!!!!! this is the worst slow burn in the world--

meanwhile ur sitting with a student one day, giving them feedback on their rough draft when jun starts to kind of hover around outside ur office. u finish up w the student and tell them to email you if they need any further assistance (or to go to the writing center, tbh, you are a busy person but you can understand confused freshmen), and jun comes in as you pack your things away. it isnt until you get to the parking lot that he holds your hand, already talking about the new restaurant that seokmin was telling him about downtown. he's heard rly good things and figured maybe the two of you could check it out before maybe celebrating your three-year anniversary there next month...?

idk i just like the idea of 'omg theyre obviously into each other!!! but they deny it :(' while the couple has just been together for a while, they just like their privacy

#wooahaes.ask #asks.anon #wooahaes.askgame #tbh id consider a hospital au but i didnt feel like doing the research to get basic ideas on how stuff is run

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www-librarytearoom-com · 10 months

Note

(Apologies chief 🫡 ch7 rambles ahead)

Ok the way u start this chpter honestly had me in a chokehold. Like the thought of little Luigi being hurt and alone in a cage, dangling in such a hostile burning environment, trying so hard to keep going. Watching precious videos of his family as a way to cope. Like misses his family so much😭😭 let him see his family

If me, a reader is feeling this much heartache can u imagine how devastated Mario's gonna be?

And The Star wars video bro🥺 they are so goofy. Even the guards were laughing. Mario and Spike besties forever.

(Weegi wanted a doggie :00, pp-poltu- *gets shot*)

The voicemail😭, stop it , u can't. Has he been calling his dad the whole time?? StOp it (don't) Mario's not the best in electronics and we love him for it <33

FLINT LOCKWOOD (1 of Mario's fav movies u say? That's so sweet)

And the parents attacks. Holy shit dude, how are they not in jail rotting or something already?? Mario was unconscious for weeks?? He was in a coma?? After everything they did to him, and they still have the gall to keep hurting their son? At this point it feels like attempted murder or something, this is terrible.

And the fact that the attacks were getting worse over time oh no. Mario 😭 my boy. My sweet boy. If this wasn't the worst of the kidnappings then what was? Why were the parents getting more violent and cruel. Like I know they were assholes B4 but this?? It's way too far man.

(I just realized that Spike and Pauline dressing up was more 4 Luigi's sake than Marios cuz he was unconscious at the time🥺 This family I swear. You're killing me with tears and honey here, Angel. Keep up the good work!)-🍊

Hihi so sorry I forgot to respond to this! You never fail to put such a big smile on my face with your asks, so thank you for that!

Chapter 7 was truly an emotional chapter- I wanted to develop the sense of family that these 4 have with each other, and how no matter what they were always there. Pauline and Spike stood by Mario's side through thick and thin, through his breakdowns, through his parents, through him raising a child! Even when Mario wasn't there, they still kept him with them in their memory, putting their family first and caring for Luigi.

It's very rare that you'd find a friendship like that, especially ones who would respect your privacy and want to raise a child alone - even at 16! - and I just felt it was hugely important to show that yes, Mario doesn't have a biological family, but he has his found family! Despite having so little, he also had so much.

If Mario hadn't had Spike and Pauline, we can only wonder where he would've ended up. But that being said, it is also a two way street. Mario has had such a large impact on Spike and Pauline's lives - he's their protector through all hardships, willing to fight anyone for them. Be it an ex girlfriend of Pauline's or one of Spike's old bullies, Mario has always been there for them, he's always managed to make them laugh and spread the joy that he's learnt to have even through hardships.

They love and support each other. And even when Mario is gone, they stuck with what he showed them, and helped him with his child when he couldn't be there.

That's a real family, isn't it?

#writing #fanfic #super mario bros #super mario #luigi #writing comissions #mario and luigi #super mario movie #super mario brothers #super mario fanfic #raising siblings #raising luigi au #pauline #spike and mario r chaotic uncle and dad respectively #foreman spike #pauline mario and spike are the best trio #pauline mario

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sweet-cynical-writer · 7 months

Note

Ok, so Imagine ghost, undead or necromancer S/O, I swear I’m not high. Actually, scratch the ghost thing out, Fyodor dealing with a Necromancer reader who works for the ADA. Is that too specific?

Authors notes: Oh my God, I actually love this. And no, this isn't too specific. I happen to love specific asks so long as they don't get too complex where I lose myself. [Also, don't worry about multi-asking since it was pertaining to the original ask!] I am not sure if you wanted a scenario or headcannons, so I will just do a bit of both!

Short scenario: How Fyodor handles a masc!necromancer working for the ADA.

Word count: 325

He didn't expect it in the slightest. But when he was told that the man he was so infatuated with worked for the ADA he was perplexed. What drove him to be with them? There's so much destruction and yet order he could do with such power.

He wanted him. No he needed him. There must be some way for the two of them to meet. By some coincidence or something of that nature. He just wanted to dissect his brain a little. Maybe even see him demonstrate some of his powers. The mere idea of speaking to the dead or raising them made Fyodor curious, excited a little even.

That night, he saw him leave the ADA headquarters and go off into a graveyard. Fyodor knew that he was there to practice his magic. So he followed him in and to his surprise, it was he who caught him off guard.

"You followed me in here. Why?" He didn't even need to look at Fyodor to know he was right there.

"How did you catch on so quickly? I wasn't very obvious." Fyodor cocked his head to one side curiously. He didn't even seem to have his guard up around him. Which he found a little comforting or even charming.

"They told me of course. You are entering their domain of their burial grounds. Pay your respects." He nodded to the headstones around him.

Fyodor glanced at the headstones and looked back up to see he was already setting up candles and whispering incantations softly. Soft whisps appeared all around like fallen snow that was being held in place.

All he could do was watch in awe while he spoke to the dead. Whispering, talking in such a soft and tender voice it was like the fine tune of the cello he loved to play.

"You're enchanting." He whispered under his breath.

"Hm? Did you say something?" He turned to finally look at Fyodor.

Headcanons

He's absolutely infatuated with him[them]

He goes on outings to the graveyard to meet with him[them]

Sometimes brings him[them] flowers or offerings for the dead or rituals he[they] perform[s].

The best days are spent together at night when it rains

First kiss happens in the rain on a full moon

Both like to stay in for most dates, but that's fine because both of you cherish your privacy

#bungou stray dogs #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #dostoevksy #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #short drabble #zai writes

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jessmm7 · 9 months

Note

It’s ok honestly people are making such a big deal out of them you’d swear they’re his nudes 😅 but I’m glad you decided to respect his privacy

I think everyone is desperate for some content or just something to happen in general!

The fandom would go nuts if it was nudes 😂

0 notes

one-and-lonely16 · 2 years

Text

i swear parents don't respect privacy whatsoever. i am not comfortable with people reading my writing by either looking over my shoulder or stuff like that. the only time i'm ok with people reading it is when i have explicitly said they can or even handed it to them to read. but my dad keeps coming up behind me a reading my work out loud, despite the fact he knows i hate it and i have asked him multiple times not to read it bc i don't like it. so, adults, if you can see that something you are doing is upsetting a young person, please respect their boundaries like you would with anyone ur same age or older. just bc they are younger doesn't mean they aren't allowed to get annoyed at you

#sorry for the vent #it just really pissed me off

0 notes

doexoeyes · 2 years

Text

Venomed

Summary: What once was a beautiful relationship with Peter, turns quite venomous…

Warnings: swearing & short accusation of unaliving one’s self.

Notes: ughhh this part took me forever & I’m still not satisfied with it but it’s been long enough & i dont want to keep you waiting. Seriously you all have been so kind, I can’t thank you enough. & to all of u who let me know your thoughts on it or say that you’re excited for what’s next, u make my day & I’m beyond grateful 🤧 I hope you guys enjoy ♡

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Part 3

He felt it.

His ‘spidey senses’ are a little tingle that alerts him when something’s off. It’s like a sixth sense for knowing when something bad was going to happen.

He’s been feeling it going off all day but he’s been unable to decipher what was bringing it on. Except this time he felt it and he knows who’s in danger.

It’s you.

He doesn’t take a second to think it through, just bursts into your apartment, eyes scanning the living room for you.

He calls out your name but there’s no response, simply an eerie silence that makes his stomach turn.

He enters your room cautiously but you’re not there either, and that’s when he feels it again; The tingle.

He runs to the bathroom and, although he was one to always respect your privacy, he felt like he didn’t have a second to lose, so he burst right in.

Turns out that he was right, because when he slams the door open, he’s met with the sight of you submerged under water, drowning.

He doesn’t think twice, just immediately jumps into action and pulls you out. You’re coughing up water and you look absolutely lost and helpless and terrified and he feels all those things at once too.

“What happened?! Are you okay?! How the hell did this happen?!” he's speaking faster than he can think, a mess of fear and nerves.

Out of all the things to fear you getting hurt from, a bath was the last thing he would have worried about.

“Did you fall asleep?! Did you hit your head?! I need to know how this happened, why were you…”

Before he can finish his sentence, you let out a sob that completely shatters him.

His eyes widen and he drops the rest of the questions and immediately wraps his arms around you because fuck the answers, you’re all that mattered right now.

You cry into his chest and he stays there, hands in your hair, whispering sweet words in your ear.

“I got you, you’re ok. You’re ok baby, I promise. I’m sorry that happened. I got you now, you’re safe.”

You both remain like that for a while till he feels you shivering from the now cold water. He gets a towel and wraps it around you, helping you up while averting his eyes, not wanting to make you feel unwillingly exposed.

He leads you into your bedroom, finding one of his shirts in a drawer and helping you into it, wet strands of your hair dripping into the fabric before he takes your towel and helps dry it up. You’ve been silent since you stopped crying, face unrevealing of your emotions. He has to bite his lip to keep himself from asking more questions, understanding that now wasn’t the time to bother you with them.

But his mind is still racing, thinking about how he saw you drowning in the tub. He was horrified, very much still, because he can’t understand how that could have happened.

Did you fall asleep & accidentally slipped in? Did you hit your head and fell unconscious?

No, he doesn’t think that one could be it. He saw what looked like you trying to get up for a second before he pulled you out. It was weird, and he knows that it doesn’t make sense, but it almost looked like something was forcing you down into the water….

“Why are you here?”

Your voice breaks his train of thought. He swallows, nervous about the impending conversation.

“I felt like something was off. I’ve been feeling it since last night, but this time it just felt…urgent. And thank god for that because if I didn’t make it in time, you probably would have…” and he stops because he doesn’t ever want to finish that sentence.

You look completely exhausted, eyes empty, body shaking from the cold. He takes in a small breath.

“You weren't..trying to…because of me…” he’s struggling to get the words out, but you get what he’s trying to say and you’re immediately disturbed by the accusation.

“Are you serious right now? Do you actually think that I would….god Peter no! I wasn’t attempting to kill myself just because you broke up with me, god,” you say, getting up from the bed and stepping away from him.

He swallows, thankful that that wasn’t the case, but also put off by your reaction.

You’re so easily angered lately. Did he hurt you that much? Did the love you have for him just fade away?

‘That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?’ he’s asking himself because the whole point of breaking up with you was so you wouldn’t be forced to care about him anymore. So you wouldn’t be put in harm's way for it.

But now, as you look at him with that fire in your eyes, so intense he can almost feel it burning him, he’s regretting his decision.

He misses the way you used to look at him. It’s almost killing him.

He clears his throat, continuing.

“Then tell me what happened. Explain to me how I walked into you like that. Ever since this morning, you’ve been…”

“What? How have I been, Peter?” you ask, daring him to respond.

He frowns, not backing down.

“You’ve been off. You’re not yourself, and it’s clear that something’s up. I understand your upset because of what happened last night, but I didn’t expect you to spiral off like this.”

That’s when you feel it again; The unexplainable anger you get when you just as much as think about him lately.

“Spiral? Spiral?! For the record, I’m not upset. I’m angry. I’m so fucking angry because you decided to break up with me, not because you don’t love me, but because you want to save me? What kind of bullshit is that?! And the cherry on top is that you truly think it was so noble of you to do this to us. That you’re making such a selfless sacrifice. Well fuck you.”

The words stun him. It makes him avert his gaze from you because it’s all too much. It’s a mixture of guilt and hurt, and he really wishes you could look at him one more time like you used to, and not like you do now; like you despise him. Like he ruined you.

He wants to say he’s sorry, but he knows that if it came down to it, he wouldn’t take back what he did. He couldn’t. Your life matters more to him than you hating him for the rest of your life.

So he sits there and lets you speak, no matter how much your words tore him up inside.

“Fuck you for not even including me in this decision, for not even letting me have a choice. Now do me the favor and keep your promise of staying away from me and get the fuck out!”

You reach for the knob and push the door open but just as you do so, the door comes completely off its hinges. You’re frozen in place, completely silent from the shock as you process what you just did.

It was honestly a comical scene, seeing you holding a door in mid air with one hand as if it weighed nothing, but you were too freaked out to find the humor in it.

After gathering your composure, you lean the door against the wall but once you let go of the knob, you notice that you’ve completely crushed it.

You shut your eyes, mentally praying that Peter somehow didn’t notice, but when you turn around, you find him with wide eyes, jaw dropped.

Oh yeah, he noticed.

“Did you just…rip the door off?” he asks, voice wavering.

Look at what we can do. Isn’t it exhilarating?

You jump, the voice unexpectedly booming loud in your head.

Oh no.

“I need you to leave,” you tell Peter, voice urgent.

No, let him stay. I’m hungry.

“No!” you shout fearfully, and Peter looks at you with furrowed brows.

“No?”

You shake your head, forgetting he can’t hear it.

“Nothing, just…nothing’s going on Peter, I’m just not myself today and I need you to go.”

I can’t withhold my hunger much longer. I need to be fed.

“Please…” you say, intended more for the voice than Peter.

“Not yourself? Do you understand the strength you need to have to crush a metal knob like that?! To rip a door out of its hinges?! Something’s going on that you’re not telling me!”

“Peter stay out of this, you don’t understand.”

“So help me understand!”

He’s irritating me. Let's eat him.

“No! For the last time, you cannot eat him!” you shriek out and Peter jumps, caught off guard.

You both remain silent, wide eyes locked on each other. You don’t dare make a move, terrified of the voice speaking once more, of you doing something else that’s abnormal, of you possibly hurting him. But Peter stands up from his place on the bed and cautiously walks towards you.

You take several steps back, waving your hand.

“Peter, don’t…”

“Who are you talking to?” he asks, eyes darting around the room, body tense.

“Please…” your eyes are watering, the fear taking over your body.

You can tell that something bad is going to happen. There’s an odd feeling within you, the feeling of something trapped inside that’s fighting to come out. You’re doing your absolute best to keep it at bay.

“Tell me what’s going on, I just want to help you. I promise.”

“Don’t,” your eyes shut, tears rolling down your cheeks freely. “Please Pete, I can’t hold it back anymore, I can’t…”

“Can’t hold what back? Something’s very wrong and I’m scared it’s going to get worse, just let me...”

But before he can even finish, you feel it. The snap of something finally breaking free.

So you bolt out of the bedroom and run back to the bathroom, making sure to lock the door. You hear Peter running after you, trying to twist the knob and then banging on the door when he realizes it’s locked.

He’s pleading with you to let him in but everything around you starts to feel hazy. You look into the mirror and realize that the eyes looking back at you aren’t yours…

“Look, you have me officially terrified for you. Please let me in. If you don’t, I have no choice but to knock the door down okay? Please…”

He hears an odd sound coming from inside and his brows furrowed, sweat beginning to form on his forehead from the tension.

“I’m serious, I’m going to count to three. One…”

He hears you shuffling inside.

“Two…”

The sound of something scraping the wall.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath, but before he goes to kick the door, it’s suddenly pushed wide open and he’s face to face with the scariest creature he’s ever seen; A massively large black monster with big white eyes, staring him down like a predator getting ready to take down its prey.

“Three,” the monster finishes for him and in an instant it opens its mouth and exposes its many rows of large sharp teeth, letting out a terrifying shrill right in front of him.

Peter jumps, taken aback, but he has no time to process his emotions because the monster lunges at him and he’s pushed back into the living room, landing on your glass coffee table, completely shattering it in the process.

He groans, a sharp pain shooting down his back, but he notices the pieces of glass around him shaking, and when he looks up, he sees the creature running towards him. Peter immediately jumps up and attaches himself to the ceiling looking down as the monster roars in frustration.

“Come down now! I’m hungry and I don’t like to play with my food!” it growls.

From his place on the ceiling, Peter can see inside your room and spots his backpack peking out from under your bed. He remembers how he left it last night before you both went to the italian restaurant for your anniversary.

Before he broke up with you.

He ignores the lump in his throat, his mind racing with the thought of where you even were currently, because he needs to focus on getting this thing out of your apartment while also keeping it from eating him.

“Why? You get a tummy ache or something?” he jokes, though his mind is focused on getting to the backpack.

He needs to distract him long enough to get his web shooters.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” it says dryly and it jumps up and tries to grab at him but Peter’s quick enough to dodge it.

He decides he has no choice but to crawl quickly through the ceiling to your room. When he lands on the ground, he grabs the lamp on the night stand and tosses it at the creature but it barely even reacts to it, letting out a dark chuckle.

“Pathetic,” it spits out, and it grabs Peter by the arm, lifting him up.

Peter lands a kick on it’s face that makes it hiss, head reeling back for a second as he lets go.

He lands on the ground and grabs the backpack from under the bed, but just as he unzips it, the creature drags him out of the room by his leg.

It sends him flying to a wall, pieces of it crumbling down on him as a cloud of plaster surrounds him. He’s thankful that at least he didn’t break right through it or else your neighbor would be pretty upset.

The creature waits for him in the small fog of white dust, smiling with pointed teeth.

“Looks like you’re perfectly seasoned now,” it jokes, laughing, and if it wasn’t for him being in immense pain, Peter would have laughed with him.

What can he say? The monster’s got good quips.

It grabs Peter by the throat, bringing him up to its face.

“This is what you deserve Peter Parker. For breaking our heart,” it says, and Peter is confused by its words.

When the creature opens its mouth, Peter choking as he tries to fight for breath from its tight grip around his neck, there’s a small click and the creature begins to choke as well.

Another click, and the creature is grabbing at its throat, letting Peter go.

Peter takes a big desperate breath for air, trying to steady himself. He looks up at the creature, arms out as he once again shoots out another web, trapping the monster's mouth shut.

He gets up, hissing from the pain, but he knows he needs to finish the job while it’s distracted.

The creature is trying to rip the webs from its mouth but Peter continues to shoot one after another. It’s walking backwards as it does so, towards the glass door leading out into the balcony and Peter shoots a web at it, sliding the door open so it falls out onto it.

What he didn’t expect was for it to completely stumble over the railing & fall off the balcony.

Another thing he didn’t expect?

The creature’s black tendrils slide away to reveal your unconscious face, you being the one who’s now falling off the balcony.

Peter’s eyes widen and the entire moment feels like it’s in slow motion as he screams your name and races to the balcony.

He doesn’t think twice before he jumps off the railing, plumutting down after you.

His heart is racing, stomach in knots as he tries with all his might to fall fast enough to reach you. He shoots a web when he thinks it’s the closest he can get to you and uses all his strength to launch you to him, wrapping his entire body around you.

He lands perfectly on his feet but his eyes are clenched tight, too scared to see whether he really truly made it with you safely in his arms.

He opens his eyes slowly and lets out a small sob when he sees the slow rise of your chest and that you’re indeed in his arms, still alive, still intact.

There’s tears in his eyes because it all feels too familiar; A really fucked up case of deja vu.

He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath as hot tears spill into your skin.

His mind is racing a mile a minute, the confusion at what just transpired messing with his head, along with the fear still living in the pit of his stomach at how he almost lost you.

He tries to focus on how grateful he is to hold you as you're still breathing, to know that he was able to catch you in time.

He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s going to fix it.

He’s going to save you.

Even if it’s the last thing he does.

Tag list: @someblessedmonster

555 notes · View notes

mulletmitsuya · 2 years

Text

Toman groupchat

Warnings: swearing, mentions of suicide and violence, descriptions of suicide (basically a brief description of what Baji did), suggestive

Baji: mkay I'm gonna ask them

Draken: why do you guys have no respect for people's privacy? it's their business not ours

Smiley: you're so fucking boring oh my god

Mikey: yeah Ken-chin it's not a big deal it's just a question🤕

Draken: A QUESTION THAT COULD MAKE THEM UNCOMFORTABLE. LEAVE THEM ALONE

Draken: and Mikey I know you're only doing this cause they've been spending time with Takemichi

Draken: you literally threatened Inupi

Mikey: It wasn't threatening I just spoke the truth

Mikey: I found Takemichi first. So he's mine

Draken: HE'S NOT SOMETHING TO BE OWNED HES A HUMAN BEING WHATS WRONG WITH YOU

Baji: *gasps*

Baji: has Draken finally figured out that Mikey is mentally ill and needs help😮

Mikey: haha you're so funny I laughed 😐

Smiley: I'm adding them

*Koko and Inupi have been added to the chat*

Inupi: oh

Inupi: hello

Koko: isn't this a captains and vice captains groupchat?

Koko: why are we here?

Baji: initial

Baji: *initially

Baji: *initiative

Baji: how tf do you spell it

Smiley: initiation??

Baji: yeah

Smiley: dumb bitch

Smiley: can't believe you got held back again, school just isn't for some people ig

Mikey: YOU GOT HELD BACK AGAIN?

Baji: stfu

Baji: you try getting 2 fatal stab wounds and being in a coma for 4 months. fuck you guys

Mitsuya: and he went to jail

Baji: nah they put me in a psych ward since they considered it a suicide attempt, which was kinda unnecessary imo

Draken: ...because it was

Mitsuya: you stabbed yourself in the stomach with the intention of dying

Mitsuya: it was a suicide attempt...

Koko: uhh

Koko: should we go...?

Inupi: yeah we don't really know what you guys are talking about

Mikey: we just wanted to ask you guys a question

Draken: istg

Mikey: what are you gonna do Ken-chin??🤨

Mikey: exactly, nothing so stfu <3

Draken: I'll fuck you

Mikey: ...I mean

Mikey: not gonna say no to that 😇

Draken: *up

Draken: I'll fuck you up

Draken: wait what

Mikey: ...

Mikey: uhhhhhhh

Baji: LMAO CAUGHT IN 4K

Smiley: you guys are getting off topic

Angry: I don't think this is a good idea Smiley

Baji: fuck it I'm tired of waiting

Baji: Koko, Inupi

Baji: are y'all homosexuals

Baji: and are y'all in love with each other??

Smiley: surprised you could spell all that

Koko: ......pardon?

Smiley: who the fuck says pardon

Smiley: now I know he's gay

Smiley: gay people can't talk normally

Smiley: instead of saying "that's cool" they'll say "it's slaying absolute penis"

Smiley: true story I heard Hanma say that

Mikey: Hanma isn't normal, we don't talk about him

Inupi: I-

Inupi: ❓

Smiley: stop acting like you're confused answer the question

Draken: they're being dicks you guys don't have to answer the question

Mikey: Ken-chin you're being homophobic

Mikey: If you guys are gay I'ma need you to understand that Takemichi's already taken so like stay away from him <3

Koko: we're not gay

Inupi: .....yeah

Inupi: not gay

Inupi: and not in love with each other

Inupi: yeah

Baji: it's not like we're making fun of you everyone in Tomans a lil gay

Baji: like me, Chifuyu and Kazutora are in a polycule

Draken: wow okay, didn't know that

Baji: Mitsuya and Hakkai are together

Draken: i-

Draken: really???

Draken: why dont you guys tell me these things

Baji: Mikey's says him and Takemichi are together but I don't believe him tbh

Mikey: 🤨

Koko: we're not gay, and we're not in love lol

Inupi: mhm

Baji: I don't believe you

Mitsuya: Baji let it go

Draken: I just think you guys should tell me these things

Draken: I didn't know Hakkai and Mitsuya were dating

Mitsuya: we were keeping it on the downlow cause y'all are assholes and you ruin everything

Baji: I won't deny that

Draken: it's true you guys do ruin everything

Mikey: ok I'm gonna head over to Takemichi's house Ken-chin come over

Draken: why? you just said you're going to Takemichi's house

Mikey: I'm tired so I don't wanna drive

Draken: 😐

Draken: ill be there soon

Smiley: free Draken 🤕❗

Inupi: ok we'll just leave now haha

Koko: yeah this was uhmm... something

*Koko has left the chat*

*Inupi has left the chat*

Mitsuya: y'all suck tbh ☺️

Mikey: and you swallow

Mitsuya: and what about it

Mikey: oh

Draken: Mitsuya?????????

Mitsuya: bye <3

661 notes · View notes

soft4gguk · 3 years

Text

to build a home | chapter two

pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

genre: strangers to lovers. angst. loads of plot. eventual smut

word count: 8.8k (y’all still need context but introduction to oc! and her super cool best friend I’m growing emotionally attached to)

warnings: angst. more angst. swearing. more crying baby </3. and more crying jungoo </3. also, jungkook’s an asshole (im sorry ok my mans is going thru it can u blame him). but! jungkook best dad. mentions of alcohol. mentions of abandonment. that’s pretty much it. last one was too heavy.

author’s note: hi <3 first of all, i wasn’t really expecting my little (sad) story to get half of the attention it’s getting so i want to make sure i come in here and say thank u from the bottom of my heart if u took your time to read it and/or leave nice comments. you’re the best. now, getting to the juicy stuff – hi. this was a handful and im sorry but also im not??? this chapter introduces new characters that were so much fun to write and also our sexy nanny oc queen!! i almost almost blue balled u and left their first meeting / thoughts on one another for the next chapter but i honestly got so excited about it i couldn’t do that to yall. jk has no idea tho. his heart still hurts its been two minutes be patient w him. but the very last paragraph… yeah. thats all im saying. anyways ENJOY <3 xxxxx

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Texts in bold + italic resemble a recollection of past events.

Chapter Two

You love Saturdays, not afraid to fall into the cliché that coincides with pretty much 99% of the population that looks forward to the weekend. But Saturdays feel different. And here, let me throw in another cliché – they only get better the warmer the weather gets. A Saturday and summer type of person? Predictable. But you’re not one to shy away from clichés. You’d be out of a passion and perhaps have grown to hate your degree, making your four years of higher education exceptionally tedious. You’re diverting, though. Point is, you’re not afraid of being a little predictable in the name of a good cliché.

You woke up this morning and the smell of freshly baked goods had you jolting out of bed. The mornings are still chilly and you keep making the mistake of heading straight to the kitchen barefoot. Excitement usually has you making it in four to six strides and that’s all it takes to be embraced by warmth again. Your kitchen is tiny and the oven does wonders at keeping it in a steady cozy degrees Celsius.

“Good morning, lover.” Lucy’s sweet voice adds to the warmth.

Roommate, best friend and future pastry school graduate – the pet name you two share fits her like a glove. A human being so sweet people stick to her like flies often do to sticky, yummy forgotten treats. Her graduation is coming up in a couple of weeks so she spends her weekends diligently perfecting recipes. You are able to bask in the benefits as her personal guinea pig. And it’s never bad so you gladly comply.

“It is indeed, lover.” You return. She laughs, placing a scone in your hand. It’s plain but nothing about it feels so when you take a bite. “What do you even put in these? Crack?”

“Ding, ding, ding!” She exclaims, pointer finger in the air for dramatic effect. “Here, coffee – freshly brewed so you better not-” but before she can continue, you’re already burdening her existence, a handful of ice cubes falling into the drink she’d poured in your favorite jar.

“Sometimes it’s better to apologize than to ask for permission?” You look at her sweetly, feigning innocence.

“You are stripping my perfect scones of flavour by numbing your tongue with all that ice, ___!” She whines, making you laugh.

“Wait ‘til you see how I lather it with cheap, synthetic strawberry jam.”

“I give up on you.”

“No, you don’t.” You say, big smile plastered on your face. She smiles back.

You sit opposite her, propped up on a stool before your little kitchen counter and watch her work as you reap the benefits.

“You know… I have a good feeling about today. Today’s the day. I just know it.” She tells you.

“You think I’m breaking into the corporate world on a Saturday?” You ask, incredulous but humour lacing your tone.

“Shut up. You don’t even want in the corporate world,” she begins, eyes still glued to her scones, “just… keep your eyes open. You never know.”

“Will do.”

With eyes wide open, you make sure they’re glued to the half a dozen of children spread around the kid’s section of your local library. Saturdays are good because of scones and the undivided (although at times a bit disperse) attention of your very enthusiastic book club of keen readers aging from 4 to 6. Best age to start if you do say so yourself.

Today’s pick is Julián Is a Mermaid and it seems to be sparking a fairly good discussion within your avid readers.

“I want to be a mermaid.”

“Well, you can’t. it’s a book. Miss ___ say’s its fiction.”

“Miss ___ says we can be whoever we want as long as we’re kind.”

“Yeah, but mermaids don’t exist!”

“Okay, okay! Eyes up here. Let’s discuss calmly.” You break the discourse, even though you were secretly enjoying it. “Although it is true that this is a work of fiction like Seojun says, we can be whoever we want, like Kisoo says. In this case, Julián being a mermaid is simply a fun way to let us know that. We prefer fun stories, don’t we?”

They all break into a cheer, affirming that yes, indeed, we prefer fun stories. You give yourself a mental pat in the back. Good saves are a talent you’ve learned to master with little kids who oftentimes lack a filter. You wish you could be like that at times. Bold but soft and (most often than not) kind.

The clock on the wall nears 12 o’clock and you close the book in your lap, turning once again to the kids.

“Okay, kiddos! Did we have fun?” Your question is received by yet again another burst of cheers. You giggle. “Are we looking forward to having even more fun next week with Duck Rabbit?” Another cheer, this time louder. You feel like a Rockstar. “That’s what I like to hear. Okay. You guys can play, draw or have some free reading time until pick up.”

They disperse, gathering in little groups or finding various interests around the colourful play section surrounded by high shelves heavy with more books than you can count.

You engage into brief conversations with the parents as they reunite with their overly hyper children, swarming them with detailed recounts of their participations for the day, their favorite parts of the story and loads of bold ‘I want to be a mermaid!’ statements. That’s usually your queue – you’re not one to break a heart with the harsh truths of the world.

There are only two kids left, quietly sat in one of the small tables, fully invested in their drawings.

Your eyes divert to the window and you see Dae’s mom. A pretty brunette that, if you didn’t know better, would be convinced she’s the ripe age of twenty-three, just like yourself. You’ve actually found yourself looking forward to your small talk with her during pick up – time and time again making sense of Dae’s sweet and light-hearted personality through his mom.

You walk over to the little boy, kneeling in front of him. “Hey, Dae…,” you say softly, not wanting to disrupt his focus.

“Whaff?” He replies, turning to you slowly, one eye still glued to his drawing. You melt at the slight lisp he gets sometimes when he’s a bit distracted.

“Look who’s here.” You say, and right that moment his mom makes her way through the doors.

“Mama!” He all but screams, voice so sweet it sounds gooey, making you melt.

“Ahhhhh, hi baby! Did you have fun? We missed you so, so much. Daddy’s next door getting you donuts.” Mai says, knees coming to hit the ground as she wraps the little boy in her arms, a mischievous smile at the mention of sweet treats.

“Donuts?” It’s the only thing Dae can grasp from her sentence.

She laughs. “Yes, but only after lunch, okay? We’re going to grandma’s today, remember?” he nods, excitement written all over his face. Only now do you notice just how much it resembles his mother.

Mai gets up from the ground, sending Dae off for his backpack before she turns to you, smiling.

“___, you make his Saturdays so magical. My husband is considering never taking him to Disneyland again.” She says, earning a laugh from you.

“Please, don’t let me be responsible for that.” You tell her, light chuckles still leaving your lips. “They make my Saturdays magical, too.”

Dae makes his way back, coming to stand in between the two of you. He looks up at you, soft curls coming to rest in front of his eyes before he brushes them off.

“Thank you for having me today, Miss ___. I had fun.” He sounds shy when he says it but never once breaks eye contact.

“I had fun, too, Dae. Thank you for coming. Can’t wait to see you next week!” You tell him and he beams at your welcoming words. He softly nods and turns to his mom who’s looking at him proudly, as if he’d nailed the previously rehearsed sentence.

You wave at the two of them and see them out, promptly repeating the same actions as you did with Dae, this time with the last kid and parent encounter of the day. Another sweet goodbye before you’re turning around, ready to tidy up after today’s session.

You’ve only just had enough time to put away the box of crayons littering the floor before the sound of approaching footsteps makes you turn around. You see Mai walking towards you, Dae nowhere to be seen this time.

“Hey, is everything alright? Did Dae forget something?” You ask.

“Hi again. Yes, yes. Everything’s alright. I wanted to talk to you actually.” She says, finally coming to a stop in front of you.

“Oh… sure. What’s up?”

“What are you doing after this?” She asks and immediately realizes how nosy she must sound at the way you wince slightly at the question. “Oh God, I’m sorry. Let me rephrase that… what do you do? I mean, do you work, study…?”

You notice her tense up, nerves brewing at her sudden intrusion and you reassure her with a soft smile. You don’t blame her – you’d want to know, too, if your child was spending time with someone who could very well be considered a stranger.

“I, um… I graduated three months ago. Literature. That was my major. I worked the night shift at a bar through most of university. I recently left, though. The atmosphere was getting heavy, I guess,” you say, sparing her the details, “I do work freelance for some publications at the moment, but you could say I’m just… floating for the time being. Looking.” Your admission makes you shy, gaze falling down.

“Oh… I thought you’d be pursuing a career in education.” Mai says, though she doesn’t sound surprised.

“No, no. I volunteer at the book club because it sort of gives me a sense of purpose. It’s easy to lose that when you’ve recently graduated. I didn’t want to feel like my life was in a complete pause. Plus, I like the kids. They keep me hopeful.”

Mai tries her best to keep her facial expression as stoic as ever – offering gentle nods and smiles as she takes in your words. But inside, she’s plotting. You’re too good to be true. Granted, she’s known this for a while – Saturday book club excitement begins as early as Thursday for Dae. Your entire essence feels trustworthy, sweet and patient.

So, Mai plots.

“I have a friend…,” she starts, taking you aback, eyebrows raising up in surprise. “I think he might need your help.”

“So? What did you say? Did you agree to it? I told you I had a good feeling about today!” Lucy’s frantic, bits of flour dust her cheeks lightly. She hasn’t left the kitchen since you left this morning and now the scones are accompanied by batches of croissants, madeleines, eclairs – you name it. Her own personal Café de Fleur.

You have to admit, her excitement is contagious.

“I mean, I agreed to have her give him a call. To put in a reference for me. But I don’t know, Lu.” This earns you a scowl from her

“What do you mean you don’t know? This could be amazing, ___. Enlightening, even!”

“Enlightening is a stretch.” You say, hand coming to rest at your hip.

“Now, don’t be ungrateful. What else do you need? She all but gloated about her more than financially willing single dad friend that’s in desperate need of a hot nanny-” now you’re the one scowling. “Sorry, a nanny. Kids come naturally to you!”

“She’s nine months old! She’s a baby, not a kid. I can’t bribe her with lollipops and picture books.” You protest.

“Even better! Babies are less demanding of attention and bribes. You just have to make sure she stays fed and out of poopy diapers and voila! Happy kid- baby. Happy baby!” she says. At what sounds like a defeated sigh coming from you, she presses, “besides… you could have time to work on your writing, in-between naps or whatever. What other job gives you the benefits nap time does?”

She has a point. It shouldn’t take too much to convince you – you do need the job. The savings you’ve been amounting to since university will not last you forever and you couldn’t solely rely on the hopes of getting your big break as a writer overnight.

“Yeah, I guess you have a point.”

“Plus… being a single parent must not be easy.” You smile at your friend’s inability to remove her feelings from the vaguest of situations. “You could actually help out a family more than you’d realize, ___.”

Her words make your heart sink a little, even though you can’t quite put your finger on why. As much as you make fun of Lucy for shining subjectivity into every context, you can’t help but admit you’re the same. You don’t know anything about this family; let alone anything that would spark the uneasiness that tugs at your heart at her words. Yet you can’t control the flutters in your chest at Lucy’s suggestion, insisting you could be of help.

In that moment, you find yourself hoping you can be.

It’s Monday.

Jungkook hates how much of a Monday it feels like. He was never one to fixate on the days of the week as such – usually having his secretary keeping track of his days, making sure to fit personal time and Soori’s doctor’s appointments in the middle of his crazy work schedule. He’s never attached days to feelings.

But today is a Monday and it feels like Jungkook’s own personal idea of hell. The weekend was hell, too. He decided to bring Soori along on his business trip, her recent clinginess to her father breaking Jungkook’s heart during every parting. Mai tries to soften the reality around the edges a bit, reassuring him she only cries for a little longer once he leaves her in the mornings before heading to the office.

Suelgi had tagged along for the trip and would babysit during the day as Jin and Jungkook oversaw the advancements in the project. He felt proud. This was the first of his hotels that he has overseen from the very beginning. An idea that’s now materialized into a twenty stories high beach front resort. Soori was not in the mood to necessarily celebrate, though, amounting to a two-day, one (sleepless) night hellish weekend trip.

The back and forth has really been taking a toll on her schedule as well, leaving them with odd feeding hours and a regression in her sleep training that has Jungkook fearing for his ability to function on sole motor skills.

He’s in the middle of changing her diaper as she fidgets in his grasp, mindlessly playing with a bunched-up sock. He squints. His bunched-up sock. Where did she even get that? He checks his watch – 7:20 AM. Not bad. Mental pat in the back, because he basically lives off his own reassurance nowadays. The pleasure of the accomplishment of not running late for once is short-lived as his phone starts ringing loudly. His eyes search for it and although he can hear its proximity, it’s nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck.” He mutters. Soori coos at him and he covers her ears quickly, “you didn’t hear that.”

The ringing stops and he continues his task of getting her clean and changed for the day. Another short-lived moment of bliss as the ringing fills the walls of the nursery again. Now he worries – it could be a work emergency. Or Suelgi reaching out to let him know something came up and she won’t be able to look after Soori today. He takes another glance around the room and sees the buzzing device camouflaged by a family of plushies on top of one of Soori’s toy baskets. It doesn’t stop ringing.

“Don’t move, okay?” He says to Soori, who’s laying on top of her changing table. The second the words leave his lips he realizes the calibre of stupidity the request holds. He closes his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “Intermission,” he says, taking a very butt-naked Soori in his arms and heading to retrieve his phone. How did that even get there? He recites a mental prayer in hopes his daughter doesn’t have an accident – one all over his tightly pressed white button up.

Mai’s name flashes on the screen of his phone.

“Hello?”

“Gguk. I have the best news.” She says, way too cheerful for 7 am.

“Enlighten me.” He responds, immediately regretting the sarcastic ring to his voice.

Mai doesn’t seem to mind, he can hear the smile on her face when she says, “I found you a nanny!”

“Send her CV my way. I’ll check it out as soon as I get to the office.” He returns.

“I’m her CV! And her letter of recommendation.”

“No.”

“Gguk-”

“I’m not going to leave my daughter in the care of someone that doesn’t have the right qualifications and/or enough years of experience to lack a proper CV.” Jungkook’s voice is stern and he knows Mai is rolling her eyes on the other side of the line.

“Oh, Ggukie. You’re funny. If employment worked that way you’d be out of a job.” Her voice doesn’t hold an ounce of menace but she knows she has to be stern, too.

“Hotels can fail. My daughter’s wellbeing, cannot.” He argues, voice sounding defeated.

“Okay. Hear me out. She’s Dae’s teacher. From Saturday book club – you know how he’s always telling you about it?” Mai explains.

“Oh, she’s a teacher?” He admits that grants him a glimmer of hope.

“Well, no,” and before Jungkook can object again she continues, “but! Gguk, she is sweet, and patient and I’ve seen her with the kids, she can easily reason with them. They love her. And respect her. Come on, just one interview. Get to know her. Let Soori get to know her, too. She can’t be worse than all these nannies you’ve been interviewing that look straight out of that one scene in Mary Poppins. Please?”

Jungkook is about to object again, having made up his mind at ‘well, no’ but before he can begin to form a sentence, he feels a wet patch growing at the center of his stomach, quickly spreading down in a steady stream. He looks down at Soori who looks back at him innocently, unaware of her accident, slightly relieved at having an empty bladder. She smiles at him, a soft giggle falling past her lips.

Now they’re running late.

“Okay.”

“Gguk just- what?” Mai says, astounded.

“Give me her number, I’ll have my assistant arrange the interview.” He sounds defeated, but Mai doesn’t miss the sudden determination in his voice.

“You won’t regret it, Gguk. Trust me.”

And in that moment, he finds himself hoping he doesn’t.

“So, it’s a coffee date?”

Lucy’s voice nears as she enters your room, pushing the clothes that you’ve aggressively scattered all over your bed to the side. She takes a seat, hands wrapped around a scolding hot cup of tea. You can see the steam dance out of the mug in little twirls.

“No. it’s not a coffee date. His assistant just asked me how I liked my coffee. Must be a rich people thing, you know?” You argue.

“Politeness?” She asks, raising a brow.

“No. Planning ahead of time.”

“And what did you tell her?” She presses, bringing the mug to her lips as she takes a sip.

“Huh?”

“About how you like your coffee.”

“Iced americano.” You tell her, a wicked smile tugging at your lips.

She rolls her eyes. “Please, it’s like you want to butcher this!”

“Not actively attempting to, no. But if I can’t find anything remotely appropriate to wear then that might just be the case.” You say, exasperated. You’d spent the good first half of your morning rummaging around your tiny closet for anything that would resemble even an ounce of professionality. Needless to say, your pastels and florals, mostly making up an absurd amount of sun dresses, were not quite cutting it.

“Please, ___, you dress like a grandma that picks up gardening as soon as the weather goes any higher than 20 degrees. Or, even better, -” she continues but you turn around, narrowing your eyes at her. “The cutest grandma, though. Sexy, too.” She winks at you and you can’t help but smile.

“It’s just not… professional enough.”

“Since when do nannies have to look cookie cutter corporate? I’d be content enough with someone that didn’t pose any immediate threat. Like say, you walk in there with a spike collar on – that might be dangerous. But then again, you can’t really judge a book by its cover.” She concludes, assertive nod to the head before she takes another sip.

You laugh, shooting finger guns at her, giving her the point.

She’s right. Your choice of fashion was never a matter of inconvenience during Saturday book club in the library. And you do sort of sport the grandma-chic. You should be fine.

Yet you can’t shake the slight intimidation you feel. You know it’s only normal to dwell on nerves or pre work interview jitters. As much cookie cutter corporate this isn’t you still want to do well. You still want his approval.

The intimidation dates back to two days ago. Mai had called you, having asked for your number to give you further details, and she gave you the good news! As she’d exclaimed.

“His assistant will call you to arrange an interview. It’ll probably be sometime this week.” Mai’s voice still held the same enthusiasm as it did a couple of minutes prior during her call with Jungkook.

“That sounds perfect,” you say, although you have to force the words out of you. You weren’t expecting everything to unfold so quickly.

“You’ll do good. Soori will love you.”

“Thank you for this opportunity, Mai. It- the timing was just right.” You don’t feel like putting any pressure on her by admitting just how desperately you need this. This is just an interview after all.

“Trust me, likewise.” She says this and it leaves you wondering for a minute. Her voice sounds serious, but you don’t press.

You’re about to say your goodbyes but her words stop you.

“Jungkook.” She says, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Huh?” You frown, a bit lost by the prior.

“Jeon Jungkook. That’s his name. Just realized I never told you.”

Jeon Jungkook. It’s in the name. That’s where your intimidation stems from. He sounds like he belongs in the list of professors you avoided in university. The ones that led the elective subjects you took to build up credit. Like accounting and introduction to physics 01. You shudder at the thought.

Another look-over your messy clothes sprawled all across your bed earns you another shudder, followed by a loud groan.

Lucy scams through it, giving it one last glance before she grabs a handful of yellow fabric. She doesn’t gravitate towards it for any reason in particular – simply with the intention to ease your torment and put an end to this discussion.

“Here. Wear the yellow dress.” She says, sure of herself, even though she has no idea what the yellow dress actually looks like. It could be one of your grandma chic but make it ass cheek length for all she knows.

But the angels are on Lucy’s side today and when you reach for the dress, holding it against your body as you stare at the mirror, it’s not half bad. It cuts in a straight line over your chest, fabric rouching slightly at the top before it falls seamlessly right above your knees. Discreet enough. Cute bows at the strings that hold it over your shoulders, too. You are keen on the gardening look, aren’t you?

“It needs a cardigan.” You say, reaffirming your previous realization.

“How Victorian of you. Please refrain from showing any ankle – the man might have a heart attack. I heard nine months old are judgy, too.” Lucy remarks.

“I was planning on wearing my converse – is that too casual?” You ask, completely ignoring her witty remarks. She rolls her eyes at you and watches you pace around your room, trying to tidy up the mess you’d make.

You’re looking through your cardigans when she breaks the silence.

“What do you think happened?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, turning around, eyes meeting her serious ones.

“I mean, single dad… desperately in need for a nanny… rich, assuming from his side of town. Do you think something happened? Where’s the baby mama?” Your eyes widen at her last question.

“Well, I don’t know. But I’m sure it isn’t any of the crazy scenarios flashing through your mind right now. Probably a messy divorce or something.” You declare.

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Soo, look here, baby. Open wide!” Jungkook’s words feign cheerfulness but they’re bordering on a plead. As he brings the spoon closer to Soori’s mouth she lets out a high-pitched shriek. By far the loudest since this whole ordeal unfolded twenty minutes ago.

Her eyes are swollen, wet with tears that fall down her face that’s now red from all the crying and screaming lunch time has provoked. The first few days she refused solid food had Jungkook giving in – cradling her in his arms as he bottle fed her until she calmed down. But it’s been three days of this and he needs to be a parent.

So that’s where his Thursday lunch break finds him – standing in front of a very angry baby, completely clueless, a colourful assortment of pureed baby food adorning his kitchen island. Soori’s cries come to a surprising stop and he knows she’s not only tired but also hungry. He tries again, lowering the spoon to her, holding in his breath as she just stares at it. She kicks, body jumping so abruptly inside the confinity of her high chair it startles Jungkook, hands coming to hold her still as he shushes her gently.

Amidst the sea of broken feelings that slowly tear him apart this is perhaps the most painful. He didn’t think Soori would be so receptive to her mother’s departure. Jungkook doesn’t know if her change of demeanour is a reaction of his sulking and suffering, or if she feels Ira’s absence more than he can give her credit for. She’s just so little. Bliss still carries her through most mornings and nights – they were Jungkook’s to begin with, as he took every chance he possibly could at home to spend with her. He likes to believe that her mother’s missing presence isn’t something she doesn’t quite grasp by notion. But he can’t deny that she feels it by instinct. His heart breaks all over again at her innocence. He wonders if she’s confused, tries to decipher her feelings as he stares at her. Her mouth opens and closes in breathy whimpers. His eyes sting with the promise of a new set of tears at the feeling.

“Mr. Jungkook?” Mrs. Chae’s dulcet voice startles him. She looks apologetic when he jumps at the sight of her. “I’m sorry to disturb you. Your assistant has just called to remind you about your interview, sir. I thought I’d let you know.”

Fuck. The interview. In the middle of lunchtime chaos, he’d managed to forget about it.

“Uh- yes. Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Chae,” he takes a glimpse at his daughter, whom he still hasn’t manage to feed. He feels like a failure.

“If you want, I can try?” she says, referring to the get the baby to actually eat ordeal he was engaged in a minute ago.

“I’d appreciate that, yes.” She’s an old lady, and although sweet, lacks the patience to deal with the babysitting duties she’d had to take on ever since Ira left. But Jungkook needs all the help he can get, so he accepts hers. “If she keeps fussing just give her a bottle. She needs to eat.” She simply nods. He feels slightly judged – he keeps breaking. Stuck between a wall and a dead-end street. A bottle or starving his nine-month-old. A really easy one, yeah.

He leans down, kissing Soori’s forehead, whispering, “be good, baby.”

He makes his way from the kitchen to the living room, his pace picking up as he walks straight to the guest bathroom before he locks it.

He doesn’t bother turning on the lights as his back leans against the door, body sliding against it until he hits the floor. He breaks. It’s not the loud sobs he let out the first couple of days – he’s pretty sure he’s ran out of those. It’s the silent tide of tears that build in the corners of his eyes as his lost gaze penetrates an empty spot. He stares so hard until his line of vision goes blurry and he blinks. And only then do the tears fall. He doesn’t know why he suppresses them anymore. He’s just so fucking tired. He doesn’t know where the pain starts nor does he know where it ends. It’s just there. Silent, cold, sharp. An all-consuming overwhelm that shares his days and nights – backstabbing him just when he thinks it’s getting better.

He starts to get angry – what he’s come to identify as step two of his emotional vortex. But before he can fully register it, the doorbell rings, saving him from himself.

Your fingers hover over the doorbell. The touch screen doorbell. You try not to but your mind races with, quite frankly, unproductive thoughts.

Who even needs this much technology? You direct your gaze up, taking in the sight in front of you. People that live in such humble abodes like this one, you think. The house resembles something out of those Architectural Digest magazines you skim through in the library to kill time. It reminds you of a cut out you pasted in your vision board – idea courtesy of none other than Lucy after reading one chapter from The Secret.

it’s big, that’s to put it lightly. The shape almost boxy – wide and long, walls a contrast between white and dark mahogany wood. Two palm trees adorn the entrance, one taller than the other, side by side. Palm trees? You’re gawking now, you know you are. Three cars take up the vast parking space – two that seem to be identical, only in different colours. Black and white. That’s cliché, even for you. A Range Rover comes to view at the far end, almost towering the two coupes – it’s black. You have to admit it’s a satisfying colour palette. But who needs three cars? You shake your head, catching yourself before you free-fall into the incessant prying.

You make a mental note to stop staring as you fixate your gaze back to the door. Your eyes come back to the doorbell.

Does it ever run out of battery?

You’re about to reason with your brain on why that is a stupid question when the front door swings open from the inside. You tense up slightly, running your hands down the front of your dress nervously as your eyes come up to take in the sight before you.

Now, as afore mentioned, you’re not one to shy away from a good cliché; but the one before you finds you perplexed, to say the least.

He’s tall – so much so you have to shift your gaze upwards to meet his face. And when you do, you’re met with something you can’t quite put into words. But he doesn’t need words. His beauty speaks sonnets you’ll never be able to utter with ordinary words – so ethereal you quickly come to an spoken understanding. His hair is dark and thick, falling softly on top of his forehead, parting at the middle. His eyes look red and even though they’re a bit fallen they look impossibly big – if you look long enough, they become starry. You think your own eyes are deceiving you but when he blinks slowly and opens them again, you’re met with galaxies.

He’s managed to make formal attire look effortlessly casual. You take him in – black slacks, perfectly fitted against his toned legs. His white dress shirt exposes more skin than your sanity can bear, the three top buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up. Tattoos that seem to be never ending adorn his right arm that maintains a tight grip on the door as he holds it open for you.

“Mr. Jeon?” Your voice mirrors the confusion that inhabits your head. The title feels off – this man looks like he could’ve been part of your graduating class. But who makes it this big after three months post grad?

The left side of your brain, also known as rationality, hopes this is not Jeon Jungkook, the man about to interview you. For a potential job. To babysit his daughter.

But the right side of your brain hopes it is.

“Just Jungkook is fine.”

Damn it.

“Uh- come in, please.” He says, making way in the entrance for you to step in.

It’s bright – the house illuminated by the light coming from the endless windows that take up the space, floor to ceiling, east to west. The minimal décor perfectly complemented by a perfect view of the boundless shade of green that make up the backyard; the blue of the pool reflecting against the glass.

“Here, my office’s this way. Follow me.” His voice breaks you out of your trance and you nod, following right behind him.

His strides are determined yet effortless, mimicking his essence alone. But you can’t stop thinking about his eyes – bruised with what seems like lack of sleep and red veins so prominent around his irises you wonder if it’s the prior or if he’s been crying.

Stop prying.

He comes to a stop in front of a door that he holds opens for you, letting you go in first. You smile at the action. He doesn’t return it.

“Please,” he gestures to one of the chairs and you sit down, opposite to where you assume he’ll be sitting; a wide table, that matches the overall décor of the house, separating the two of you.

He looks at the tray Mrs. Chae has left for the two of you, seeing his usual coffee order has doubled. He quirks a brow, taking one look at you, but you seem to be lost as you take in your surroundings. He grabs both glasses, placing one in front of you.

“Thank you.” You say, voice soft.

He rounds the desk and comes to sit in front of you, settling into the chair before he takes a sip from his coffee. He clears his throat and this makes you straighten up in your seat. Here we go, you tell yourself.

“Do you have any questions for me before we start?” His gaze finally meets yours, undivided for the first time since you walked inside his home.

But his question takes you aback. He looks like the type to shove you abruptly into the enquiry portion of the interview.

“Um…,” you’re already stuttering and Jungkook tries not to but he looks exasperated. “The dynamic,” you attempt to answer with secureness, “what does it look like?”

His left eyebrow quirks rapidly at your question, almost instinctively. “She’s nine months old. She naps two to three times a day. Solid food three times a day,” his voice shakes at this, “formula four times a day. Quick bath throughout the day if she gets messy, a long one before bed time. Goes through diapers like she’s keeping Pampers afloat. Enjoys anything loud with buttons during her free time.” The last two remarks are more sarcastic than they are funny. Condescending even.

“And yours?” He doesn’t miss the slight irritation in your voice, although you look impassive.

“My…?”

“Dynamic. What does it look like?”

Your question aggravates him slightly. If he were to answer it with outmost sincerity, you’d probably label him as a bad father – a weak one even. He thinks about Soori right now, probably propped up against her favorite pillow in the couch as she suckles on her bottle. The word discipline swarms his thoughts. He frowns. She’s nine months old for God’s sake.

He composes himself before replying, “I work at the office, though I’ve been working from home more often lately. Mornings and nights she spends with me. Lunch time, too, when I’m home. I tend to have seasons where work requires more travel than others, but that time hasn’t come so I’m yet to figure it out. I don’t work on weekends unless strictly necessary.” The brief but packed run down comes to an end but all you can do is remain silent in your seat; eyes still glued to his. “Is that all?”

“Yes,” your murmur.

“Your work experience is… not ideal for this sort of job. Are you aware?” Now you know why he’s loaded. He’s a fucking shark.

“I am aware.” You badly want to say something, anything, to save your ass but your mind is at a complete blank at his unashamed boldness.

“What do you really want to do?”

“Pardon?”

He exhales loudly. “What career path do you want to pursue? Did you go to school? – Mai told me you volunteer at the library – is that something you want to do long term?”

Damn, he’s ruthless.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve brought a CV of some sort-”

“Yes, you should’ve. But you didn’t. So, we’re just going to have to work with what we have.” He says, interrupting you.

You look up at him, your sincere eyes meet his. They look as tired as they did when he first greeted you. You try to steady your breathing, easing your mind as you pose a brave front.

“I majored in Literature – out of sole passion. I didn’t really think about where it would land me when I started, I just did it because I loved it. I graduated three months ago and no, I don’t love it any less. Even if my degree hasn’t landed me nowhere you’d consider successful.” He visibly winces at your words. “I quit my job at a bar because the atmosphere was making me feel uncomfortable. The library felt comforting enough so I stuck to that. It makes me happy. Volunteering, I mean. Not in the selfless way you’d probably think but in a it brings me more peace of mind than it does them way, I guess. They’re kids, nothing holds their amusement for long enough. I’d hope the books and my words do, but I can’t know that for sure. I’m just a tiny slice of their week. But that’s fine by me.”

Jungkook gapes at you. He takes your words in and has to admit your sincerity takes him by surprise. You’ve uttered more words in the last two minutes than you have since you arrived. His head is pounding. He doesn’t believe you’re any more qualified just because you had a burst of honesty spill out of you. But he’d be a fool not to regard you with admiration for it.

At his silence, you continue, “I don’t know what career path I want to pursue. Or maybe I do, but it somewhat scares me. I like to write, but it’s a tough industry to break into. I’m not worried or desperate to know, though. I don’t know how long it took you to amount to all your success – you look fairly young to me. But I believe even the most successful of people felt at least a little lost at twenty-three,” you catch yourself slipping into a cliché so you mask it with a, “or whatever.”

He nods, but it doesn’t necessarily convey approval. It’s more so as if he’s digesting everything you’ve unloaded onto him. You don’t care at this point; having come to terms you didn’t stand a chance in Jeon Jungkook’s nanny boot camp to begin with.

“I agree,” he says and his words find you wide eyed. “I don’t even believe most people should decide on something they’ll take on for the rest of their lives that young. I wouldn’t necessarily say you’re lost, though. Finding your way seems to be a more fitting term.”

His words are comforting and the warm feeling pooling at the pit of your stomach travels all the way up until it settles in your chest. They feel almost welcoming, even as his gaze remains stern.

“You didn’t ask and at this point you probably don’t care but… I’m a fast learner and there are a couple of things in life that come naturally to me and I’ve been told that kids are one of them.”

He nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile before he’s pushing his chair back and coming to a stand. You follow his movements, walking alongside him in silence as you exit his office.

You don’t expect the loud shriek that echoes through the walls when you walk down the corridor, back to his living room. Concern laces his features and he walks a little faster, but when you make it to the living room and past the front door you don’t know if you should keep following him.

You do anyways.

Upon entering the kitchen you’re met with one hell of a sight. Sat in a high chair is whom you presume to be Soori. A very unhappy version of her, anyways. She’s kicking and screaming so loud you fear she might break free from her constraints, the baby harness holding her back every time. You know she’s upset when her cries are also met with tears – real tears. Not crocodile ones babies often times shed when they can’t express discomfort so they just cry. In front of her, Mrs. Chae is holding a bottle and a pink plastic bowl, eyes going from one to the other and then to Soori, in complete desperation.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook says, coming to stand next to them.

“She- she won’t take her bottle. I tried the puree again but she doesn’t want that either. I’m sorry Mr. Jungkook.” Mrs. Chae says.

“Has she been crying this whole time?” He asks. Mrs. Chae simply nods.

The both of them keep going back and forth, with Jungkook asking how many ounces she had, if the bottle was perhaps cold. Or too hot.

You look at Soori, who’s crying hasn’t come to a cease, if anything getting louder at her dad’s arrival. You can see the grabby hands she makes at him and it tugs at your heart a little. You walk over to her. She’s probably the cutest baby you’ve ever seen – even when her chubby cheeks are flushed from all the crying and her eyes are swollen. A silky, single strand of black hair is held up by a pink bow – hair coming up in a little sprout. Adorable.

She looks just like her dad – button nose and big doe eyes. Not to mention the puffy cheeks.

Your next move is bold but you know this works. Well, you don’t know for sure but you can try. Her exasperation is getting to you too at this point. You reach for one of the bowls on the kitchen counter – a mush of what smells like peas. You plop a dollop of the puree in the table of her high chair. She looks confused at first, taking in the stranger in front of her and then the green glob that adorns the once impeccably white surface. You notice just how clean she is, as well. You’ve never seen a child this clean during lunch time.

After a couple of seconds her cries come to a stop. She looks at you one last time before she redirects her gaze to her food – hands curiously coming to smack at the mushy peas. Jungkook turns around at the sudden quietness. His eyes look like they’re about to burst out of his skull when he sees his daughter stare at her messy fist, hand covered in baby food. She observes it tentatively before bringing it to her mouth, her whole hand coming past her lips as she nibbles on its content. She looks nonchalant to say the least but when her hand repeats the movement, shoving another handful into her mouth, he feels like he could cry of relief.

“How-” he starts, flabbergasted.

“Um… she’s not going to feel fully comfortable with the sight and texture of the food if she doesn’t get a chance to explore it with her hands first.” You answer.

Soori hums in sweet satisfaction as she feeds herself. Jungkook turns to her, big toothy smile at his baby’s new found sound. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face take on that expression.

“Is it good, baby?” he coos and she smiles back at him, nose scrunching up imitating her father’s, mushy peas up to her hairline.

You smile. God, they’re cute.

But you know this is your queue. You adjust your bag strap over your shoulder, clearing your throat as you prepare to say goodbye and turn around. You can see yourself out.

“Thank you for-”

His next words nearly give you whiplash and it takes you a while to process them.

“When can you start?”

“And then what did you say?” Lucy listens to your detailed recollection of the recent events. She nods and winces and shakes her head at the brutal recount.

“Well, I was about to say goodbye. Yes, that chubby cheeked baby was calling my name but I couldn’t get out of there faster. But then,” you pause, remembering the exact moment, a little too vividly as his voice echoes in your memory.

“What! What?” Lucy’s eyes are attentive, never once leaving your face. But her hands follow another agenda, filling a shot glass to the brim, the clear liquid spilling a bit as she waits for your bomb to kaboom! In her face. This one’s looking exceptionally ghastly. She figures tequila could ease the impact.

“He asked me when I could start.” You finish.

“Wait, what? Come again?” She all but slams the bottle as she sets it back down on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah. I think it even took him by surprise. He went on to tell me that we could take a week of testing the waters before I signed the contract.” You tell her.

“The contract? Who are you babysitting? The next heir to the British throne?”

You laugh at this, “no. She’s cuter than any of those royal babies.” She smiles, downing the shot of tequila that she’d originally destined for you. You don’t need it. Neither does she but, oh well.

“And, Lucy… his assistant emailed me the contract, just in case I had something I wanted to negotiate,” you say, voice coming to a whisper.

“And?” She asks, confused.

“Think sleazy bar pay check,” she winces, “now double that.”

“Oh.”

“Now add one of those good months that I would get my work published and we could buy the fancy marmalade,” she nods in excitement, “now double that.”

“We’re RICH!” She screams, hands coming to hold yours as you both jump up and down to the beat of her movements.

“There’s only one problem,” you say, stilling.

“What?”

“His face…”

“What about it?”

“Picture an angel,” your gaze softens, she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah…”

“Picture the perfection,”

“I am, I am.” Lucy returns, eyes dreamy.

“Now double that.”

Jungkook enters his bathroom, mind busy with the weight of the day. Bed time went smoothly but he knows Soori will be up in two hours or so. He mentally prepares himself for another night of rocky sleep.

He reaches for his toothbrush, lathering a generous amount of toothpaste on top before letting the water run over it. He hates mundane tasks like these – his mind having to come to a halt, to fixate on the domestic. He thinks about Ira. He can’t help it. He pictures the routine they’d adapted for the past three years – imagines what she looked like brushing her teeth next to him. They’d stand next to each other in comfortable silence, aggressive silence and on really good days, mumbles between mouthfuls of toothpaste, talking about their days, his arm around her waist as he pinned her to the marble counter.

He can’t help but wonder where she is. If she’s well. If she cries at night when she turns off the lights the way he’s grown accustomed to since she left. He wonders if she misses Soori – her baby smell, the squish of her cheeks, the round of her eyes taking her in. She thinks about the fact she missed one of her milestones today – that satisfied hum when she enjoyed her mushy peas.

He wonders if she misses him, too.

He remembers the mess Soori had made during lunch, having to wash baby food off her hair afterwards. Ira would’ve rolled her eyes at the sight. She never liked it when she made a mess.

He wonders what she would think of you, of his decision to have you look after their baby.

He stops his train of thought.

His baby.

The realization exhausts him further and he heads to bed. He wonders when it’ll get easier. When it will stop hitting him in the face every time he lets his mind wonder in meaningless back and forth. He knows the answer to all of his previous questions – none of them are what he wants to hear.

He tugs his hoodie off with one hand, throwing it to the side before he gets under his covers. He sighs, a groan leaving his mouth at the feeling of the pillow against his head. His eyes close instinctively.

And then he thinks about you.

He’s spent a good portion of his day thinking about you, to be fair. The wellbeing of his daughter at the frontline of his thoughts, whether he made the right decision or not. He’d made up his mind pretty early into the interview and all it took was a happy baby enjoying mushy peas for him to break. He’s regretted his decision at least a dozen times today. But then during dinner time he mimicked your actions, an assortment of foods cut into small bites spread in front of Soori for her to explore. She was eating so fast he had to stop her twice and he got to hear her sweet little mmm a handful of times. That was enough for him to break again.

But as he nuzzles into his pillows his thoughts are not laced with parenting. He thinks about you. He doesn’t exactly follow the direction of his train of thought but he’s too tired to stop it.

He thinks of the words you so openly shared with him. He thinks of the way vulnerability took over your face in a way he’d never seen it shown so visibly in anyone before. He thinks about your yellow dress that all but startled him when he opened his front door, so bright you almost looked out of place. He tries to remember what you smelled like. He can’t put his finger on it. In fact, he doesn’t think he even focused on it long enough to remember. Honey, camelias, lavender, roses, wood- he stops himself. It’s a thought with a dead-end street. He finds no point in dwelling.

You were wearing high top converses.

Something about that makes way to his brain and he can’t quite explain it. Perhaps it’s an innocence he doesn’t interact with anymore. He thinks about twenty-three-year-old him – just as lost as you. He smiles but it’s unconscious as he slowly begins to succumb to a much-needed sleep. He thinks you look like a feeling buried down deep in his memory. He’s too tired to put a name to it but as his brain begins to shut down, his vulnerability comes afloat, cradling him. The feeling doesn’t have a name but it comes in a memory he’s not so sure it entirely belonged to him. Perhaps it’s a deep longing he stored inside his heart many years ago.

Salt water. The smell of Taehyung’s parents beach house. Sixteen. Slow days. A fight between innocence and desire. Infatuation masked by love. Promises of forever. Names that danced with his. Lemonade. His first sip of beer. Mrs. Kim’s lemon pie. An old beat-up jeep. Wind. Sand. Days so long they never truly eased into night. Sunrise escapades. The stars in the sky. And yellow. So much yellow.

If u made it this far can we talk about cute, soft, in-between-awake-and-asleep jk being all dreamy and reminiscing!!!! that was so hot of him. i truly hope you enjoyed – this story has been so fun to write so far and my mind is already working like rents due to whip out chapter three as fast as i can!! i, too, can’t wait for the sexy stuff, don’t worry. jk needs healing but its on its way!! hold on tight. also i will make it my purpose to get my girl lucy a match made in heaven for this fic bc she deserves the world. Thank u for reading and feel free to let me know what you thought of the chapter – i love talking to u guys. sending loads of love always!! xxxxx

STREAM PERMISSION TO DANCE IF U WANT DADDY JUNGKOOK TO FEEL BETTER OK he told me to tell u xx

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koushisatori · 3 years

Text

if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #kyoutani x you #seijoh x reader #aoba josai x reader #mad dog x reader #eeeeh i hope I didn't forget anything #tw jealousy #cw jealousy #????#y/n lowly humming the you kinda smell like a baka sound and he just </3 #deserved though

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