#and offers to treat him since he's a medic and all

[thebibliosphere]

Yesterday was my first time in the ER since my hEDS diagnosis was officially added to my file (instead of me having to tell them and hoping they’d believe me), and everyone in my emergency care team was on top of it. Like on the ball, fully engaged and interested in keeping the zebra in the hospital comfortable.

They also all knew what MCAS and POTS were and deferred to me when it came to medication and pain management. Which was also wild, because they were not shy at all about offering pain relief. They straight up offered me narcotics, when usually the most I get offered is Tylenol.

Even the CT tech knew what MCAS was and asked if we should pre-treat with Benadryl because he knew some patients could experience mast cell destabilization from the radiation even without the contrast dye.

He and the nurse even helped brace my neck when I was going into the CT machine because I mentioned having cranial instability, and the position I was in was making my neck click, so they stopped everything to find multiple pillows to brace my neck and shoulders while I was on the table.

Afterward, while being bussed through the corridors in my bed (because they had to dehydrate me to take the CT scan and my POTS was going haywire, and they made sure I had to be upright as little as possible), I commented to my nurse that I was startled that everyone I’d spoken to that day knew about EDS/MCAS/POTS and were so accommodating.

He paused before answering, then told me, “We probably don’t know as much about EDS as we should, but we’ve seen a lot of the other two over the last few years. Covid really messed people up. Did yours start with covid?” No, I told him. We think I was probably born with it and a dental infection turned it lethal. He expressed his sympathy and again reminded me I didn’t need to be a hero and I could press the pain med button whenever I needed to.

Back in my room, they started me on IV fluids to combat the dehydration from the POTS. And I was laying there, I became aware of the nurse bracing my elbow so it wouldn’t hyperextend while he futzed around with the IV and I remember thinking, “this is how it always should have been.”

The kindness and care shown to me were in such stark contrast to past experiences it made me quite tearful. There were no accusations of anxiety, no referrals to psyche, and no implications that I was over-exaggerating my pain. No denying of my experiences.

Just a quiet, vocal acceptance that I “knew my body best” and that they’d do whatever they could to help.

It was nice.

#chronic health tag #posting for bad days when I need to remember there are good healthcare providers #long post #medical trauma

[rboooks]

The Adoptive Son. Part 3

A pair of large, cornflower blue eyes stare across the living room of a luxurious penthouse at a nervous-looking man. The pair belong to a young teenager named Tim Drake, who, for the past few weeks, had spoken only a handful of words with Dick since Operation Honey Pot had begun.

They were waiting for Crowne to go get the surprise he had special ordered for Drake from an acquaintance

He tended to stare at him whenever he was around. Sometimes Dick didn't think Drake would even blink. It felt a little like Drake was starstruck by Dick- but he couldn't figure out what he had done to earn such rapture from Drake.

Other times, Drake would study him the same way a scientist would study a newly discovered bug- fascinated but weary, as though he didn't know if it was dangerous. So the scientist needed to pin the bug to a board and take it apart to understand it.

It sort of made Dick uneasy.

The night Crowne had brought him back, Drake happily played some video games while his babysitter- a sweet college student named Nancy- had been working on her assignment at the table.

Drake had turned to greet Crowne and had promptly choked on his own spit at the sight of Dick. Crowne had run off to cook them a meal, insisting Nancy finish her homework and not worry as he cooked.

She had smiled gratefully, turning back to her books while Drake had been rooted by the tv, with the most awe-struck expression Dick had ever seen.

Dick is a little surprised by how well Crowne treats Nancy Salazar.

Nancy is studying to be a pediatric occupational therapist. She adores children and is fascinated by the physical therapist aspect of the medical field.

Dick had learned that Nancy had been struggling to pay her Gotham University tuition after losing her job to a rouge attacking her workplace and the company deciding they needed to make budget cuts to complete the repairs.

She had also fallen behind on her bills due to her father suffering a medical emergency and the family pooling together what little they had to help him get life-saving surgery.

Her dad had been the family's primary provider for as long as Nancy could remember. Since neither of her parents could speak English, they had limited employment options. Nancy's siblings were all younger then than her, so they couldn't help much with the bills.

She had tried to take over as the eldest daughter, but soon it became apparent she was close to losing the house her parents had left their home country for to build a better future for their children. It devastated her.

She had been on the brink of becoming desperate for any job when she had run into Crowne at a wifi-cafe shop. She had seen Tim struggling to get through the door with his wheelchair and had gone to help him. (the child had seen internet videos of parkour and chosen to attempt the tricks himself. He had broken his leg from jumping from one roof to another.)

Her kind actions got Crowne attention, and he invited her to sit with them, then witnessed her have a meltdown when the owner of the cafe told her he had just filled the barista position she had come for an interview for.

It must have all piled up until Nancy couldn't hold back.

Crowne and Drake had consulted her, listening to her woes. After she calmed down, the two adults exchanged contact information to get to know each other. He had offered a babysitting job with complete benefits and a full-ride scholarship. Crowne had even gone far and beyond, paying off all her father's medical expenses and debts.

Dick knew all this because he had done a background check on her to see if she was involved in Crowne's schemes. Her story felt just a tab bit too far fetch for all the good fortune of meeting Crowne that fateful day.

She even admitted that she was sure she would have resorted to a life of crime with how desperate she had been back then.

When she came back clean- just the eldest daughter of immigrants trying to make it in this hellish city- Dick had thought Crowne was infatuated with her.

Nancy was a very attractive young lady, and it would not be the first time a rich man took advantage of a woman in finical distress. He hadn't found evidence yet, but Dick would keep an eye on her to ensure she was safe.

Her involvement was a lot easier to dismiss than it was for Drake.

"You and Danny are dating. He told me last night." Drake says after about half an hour of Scientist-looking-at-bug staring.

Dick throws on his best Wanye smile, making sure it's both charming and besotted. "Yes. We've agreed to become official. I hope you don't mind."

Drake tilts his head, looking ironically enough like a bird. "That depends."

"On what?"

"On what your intentions with Danny are." Drake puts down his Crowne laptop, which Danny had been programming and designing back when they started talking. The design is still the slimmest Dick had ever seen, small enough that it sat comfortably in Drake's school back and robust enough that it worked for all his gaming and photo developing.

It took Crowne about two months to complete what he called "modern," but it wouldn't be out to the rest of the public until Christmas when Crowne planned to reveal it to raise profits as high as possible.

The only reason Drake was allowed to have a model so early was simply that Crowne obviously saw him as a younger brother and sometimes maybe even a son. Dick certainly pick that up in the two-month undercover mission.

He must win over Drake as soon as possible for the sake of the mission. So far, he's come up with nothing incriminating, but more kids have disappeared. If the other boy can't stand him, it will seriously risk his access to Crowne's home and any clues on the missing children.

"I want to give him the life he deserves." Dick settles on. He's noticed that Drake is crazy intelligent. There was no reason to outright lie and get caught if the boy was smart enough to connect the dots.

"Danny deserves the world." Drake nods, stating the words like a fact. "Whatever you searching for, you won't find here."

What?

"Do you not want me to date Danny?"

Drake pauses, carefully turning the question in his head before answering. "I want someone to date Danny because they like him"

"I do like him."

"Do you?" Drake's eyes are practically ice, and Dick gets the sense he just walked into a trap. Carefully, he double-taps his left belt loop sending a warning sound to the Batcave. They won't pull him out yet, but it will have either Babs or Jason nearby in gear, just in case.

A soft click is heard from his right earring, and he knows Alfred is listening.

"I really do." He says in a warm voice.

Drake seems skeptical.

"Danny always had people falling for him. I had to tell him Jenny Wilson wasn't asking him for a private tour of his kitchen when she tried to get him to bring her back to the penthouse. He honestly thought she cared about his grape peeler. He's like that, you know? Though thoughtful, caring, kind, intelligent, and strong, Danny can't see that people generally think he's what they would want in a romantic partner. I think he was bullied a lot as a kid before his adoption, and it's ruined his ability to see his worth."

Dick tries not to scowl. Yes, he's suspected the same thing. He just hopes it's not why Crowne has inflicted so much pain.

He can't stand people who use bullying as an excuse. It doesn't justify anything they do, it also demonizes the victims, and they get too scared to report what they are going through. ''I can't claim to not be like the other people because I don't know them. I know myself, and I can promise that every inch of me wants to see Danny living the life he deserves."

Whatever Drake is going to say gets cut off by Crowne walking back from the elevator carrying a box. "Tim, come look!"

He settles the box on the coffee table, so Drake can reach over and open it. There is a small gasp of delight from the boy as he pulls out a well-done Robin hoodie. It's not over the top like most Robin merch, but it's not subtle either. It's so nicely done. Dick can even tell it's based on Jason rather than him.

The second Robin is Drake's favorite. The teen prices it by holding it up and cheering, "Oh my gosh! I love it, I love it! Where did you get this!?"

"One of Nancy's friends is majoring in fashion design. She overheard me say I wanted to get the second Robin merch that wasn't a blatant grab for money, and she had her friend draw up some designs. I will sponsor her and sell her work in our stores."

Crowne is wearing a Robin hoodie of his own, but this one is based on Dick, and for a moment, his heart soars at the sight of Crowne in his family colors. It's a dangerous thing.

He knows one of the pitfalls of undercover work is getting too attached to the lies. He couldn't allow himself to actually fall for someone like Danny Crowne. Nothing good would come out of it once he saw him jailed for everything he's done.

He hasn't gotten anything to show Crowne's crimes, but Bruce had enough proof for the shell companies doing strange and dangerous experiments.

They needed to figure out what the experiments were attempting to do. Still, they found small clues: systematics showed weapons that didn't intend to harm humans, half-erased research on "eco-energy," what looked like machines attempting to rip holes in reality, and glowing green liquid that made Bruce pale when Jason brought back a simple.

It made Dick angry that the liquid prompted his ex-mentor to contact Talia al Ghul to ask, but she claimed to know nothing of Danny Crowne. Bruce felt she was lying, so after asking Wonder Woman and Superman for help, the big three went to Nanda Parbat to look for clues.

Dick wasn't sure what they found, but Bruce had a surprise for him back at the cave once he finished visiting his "boyfriend."

They could take down Crowne Co. with what they did have, but there was a chance Crowne could claim that his scientists went rogue and let them take the fall. Also, they didn't have any names of the scientists. It was like the invisible man was conducting them on his own.

Dick had to wait a little longer. See the big plan and unravel it so everything can never be rebuilt.

Yes, he's only seen a good man who may be socially awkward once you get past his regal composure, and his speech may be a bit too formal. A passionate inventor who always tried to find a new ways to improve people's lives, especially in medicine.

A man who cooked because he liked feeding people.

A man who offered a helping hand because his parents were often mocked for their careers- Dick suspected they may have been prostitutes based on the small comments of people thinking "it wasn't real jobs and they should be ashamed for themselves"- but most of all, Dick found a man who seemed lonely.

Someone lost after life displaced him, desperately trying to find himself again. It made Dick feel better knowing someone like him was doing the same.

"What is your opinion, Dick?" Crowne asks, doing a slight turn. Dic can't fight the urge to lean in for a quick kiss, telling himself it was all for the mission and the butterflies he felt in his stomach were terrible indigestion.

Crowne smiled into the kiss, pressing a second one on Dick's lips before leaning back, looking a little flustered still, and over his shoulder, he saw Drake's eyes narrow.

Maybe the kid was jealous?

He didn't know, but he better keeps an eye on Tim Drake. Something told him not to underestimate that boy.

"I got you a Nightwing too. The first Robin and Nightwing are one of my favorite heroes. They make me feel safe. I know I shouldn't worry with them guarding me at night." Crowne says, and Dick fights hard not to flinch.

You have no reason to feel guilt. It's for the mission.

He hopes he finds proof soon.

(Part 1), (part 2)

#dc x dp crossover #The adoptive son #Part 3 #Death Defying #Tim is catching on that Nightwing may be playing with his brother's heart #Nancy is just another person luckly enough to be under Phantom's protection #Can you guess what bruce found? #Dick is starting to catch feelings

[brucewaynehater101]

Just read a fic about Tim finally getting post patrol ice cream and his own renovated room after admitting to never getting any unlike his siblings and now I'm imagining an AU

Imagine this, Tim is tired, pulling an all nighter, because he did too poor a job at pretending as Robin, and it's too late to do damage control. Not in front of villains or heroes alike

But the people

They've caught onto how the third robin receives less than the first two

Robin acts less like a child, less like a son to Batman, and more like a 'Business Partner's as he said with his own words. Like a handler

Robin who has to put work into keeping Batman from overexerting himself, from cruelly punishing those who fall victim to him

Robin who receives less praise or care from Batman and cares for both himself and his "Boss" as he said with his own words

And it gets worse after the mantle passes down to Stephanie and Damian because the people notices how even as Batman treats them better than the third, now rebranded as Red Robin—

—Red Robin is still as much a Business Partner to batman as he always has been since the Dark Knight's loss of his second bird

And as much as tries to keep things buried, word is spreading that Red Robin is black sheep of the batfamily, and he won't be able to hide it for much longer

Have fun with this idea lol

I know the fic you're talking about! "with the exception of..." by DSS1101. That's a good one!

"Home Decor" by sElkieNight60 is about Duke remodeling his room as part of the new Wayne member tradition. This brings up feelings in Tim cause his bedroom still looks like a barely used guestroom.

The concept you've mentioned gives similar vibes to a hc/au post I read about how JJ (Joker Junior) isn't known by anyone but the goons/Rogues, Barbara, Jim, and Bruce. All the other Bats don't know. In consideration of Tim, electric shock weapons are immediately put away when Red Robin arrives on scene (I love that idea so much).

I think, with the Gothamites around when Bruce was going on his grief spiral almost killing spree, people feel a kinship with Tim. They couldn't have stopped Batman and, with part guilt and part relief, it seems only a child could. They watch this child, who seems to be sacrificing everything for a brutal and cruel man, and how he pulls Batman back into the symbol he's supposed to be. It brings out the protective and parental instinct of a lot of people.

This cues civilians, goons, and rogues alike trying to assist Robin in small ways. Tim as Robin had people offering him food (in sealed containers), giving him compliments, handing him scarves or hats (how could Batman let a child out in this weather without a hat?!?!?), and more. They tried to give him small moments to be the child he was pretending he wasn't. He obviously wasn't getting decent parenting at home if Batman was just his boss and his real folks were letting him out to fight.

There's a kind of guilty gratefulness towards the third Robin and a protectiveness of him. All young Bats are treated with care by civilains and some goons, but Robin three was special. He willingly became the barrier between Batman and Gotham. A lot of folks owe their ability to work (and not have exorbiant medical debt and medical conditions) to Tim. He saved them by damning himself. He needed the support Batman obviously wasn't providing.

Tim, as intelligent as he is, doesn't realize the affect he has on Gotham's older population. The younger ones will react with slightly more respect towards him than the other Bats, but they weren't around to see what Tim's sacrifice did for everyone.

Tim, with his self-doubt and hero-worship of his predecessors, thought his treatment throughout Robin was the work of those who came before him. Of course Gothamites trust and help out Robin when Dick and Jason built that foundation.

He's not exactly wrong, but it isn't to the extent they actually do for Tim.

Unfortunately for Tim, Damian and Jason do know that his Robin was treated with such reverence. They don't know why, but their Robins did/do not get treated that way. They chalk it up to Tim being the "perfect" and "can do no wrong" Robin. It's one point of contention they are unable to clear up due to Tim not knowing about it and the other two not wanting to explain their jealousy.

Steph was not treated as well as Damian and Jason when she was Robin. She, in this AU, was not treated as much of a crutch as Tim is. Despite that, her Spoiler/Batgirl/whatever persona gets some of the protectiveness that Tim's personas do. Bruce was more healed with Steph, but he was still an ass. That was obvious to any Gothamite watching.

Steph, because she was around at the time and talks with Gothamites to know what rumors are floating around, becomes aware after her death of why Tim's Robin is held up with such respect. This allows, unknowingly to Tim, for them to reach more understanding. With her knowledge of Tim's time as Robin, she's able to point out how he was being an ass, what he should've done instead, and that she herself was sorry for some of her actions.

When more and more individuals cue into Tim's black sheep position in the Batfam, this could go two ways.

One, Tim is targeted more due to his lack of support.

Two, Gothamites and Rogues increase their aid to Red Robin and become slightly cold to the Bats for their treatment of him.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #thank you for the ask!!!! #it's my hc that Tim's robin went through hell #part of the reason tim is great at making friends (even with people who have hurt him) is because he's trying to build Bruce's support grou #steph brown #jason todd #damian wayne #bruce wayne

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮. [Running Free (Final)]

Decisions have to be made- you can't just run away from them.

Tags/Warnings: Hospital/Medical AU, Doctor!Jungkook, slightly aged up!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Dog Hybrid!Reader, comfort, romance??, Fluff, happy end I guess, we finished another one yay

Length: 5k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

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You’re being released from the hospital this week.

He’s not too sure how he feels about it, but he knows it’s for the best. The longer you stay in, the more you gain the risk of catching an infection that’ll be resistant to most medication due to the natural environment of a hospital- and you also deserve to go home, wherever that might end up being.

He’ll miss the daily visits, and he will most of all miss the hospital- but he’s made his choice, long term wish of finally having his own office as a hybrid specialist in the city soon to be coming true. The building is currently being renovated from the core, to soon become a place where hybrids can finally be treated without having to have their owners or partners drag them hours away to another location. This had been his dream ever since he’s started med school-

And it looks like if everything goes smooth from now on, it’ll finally come true.

You on the other hand, clearly can’t wait to get outside.

After multiple sessions with a professional, you’ve slowly come to learn that most of the things you’ve been taught weren’t actually true at all. While it’s correct that certain hybrids can’t be outside alone, for most hybrids it’s just a general suggestion- there’s no law against going out alone. So now that you know that you can actually go outside, you constantly ask him if he’ll take you-

And he’d love to, but he just doesn’t have the time.

So instead you’ve gone out with Jimin a few times, while Jungkook would eagerly listen to all the fun stories the nurse would get to experience with you. If he was up for it, you’d probably be really happy with him- but Jungkook knows that Jimin has his reasons for not even thinking about taking you in.

“She’s scratching her ear a lot.” Jimin mentions at lunch, and Jungkook instantly focuses. “I think she might’ve either developed an ear infection or it’s something that’s been brewing for a while.”

“Well, her ears fold over quite a bit so it wouldn’t be surprising.” Jungkook hums as he eats his food. “And since she’s not been outside much her immune system probably isn’t the strongest. I’ll take a look at it later, see if it needs anything prescribed.” He offers, as Jimin falls quiet for a moment, watching the doctor. “what?”

“You have to let her get discharged-“ He starts, but Jungkook instantly shakes his head.

“I will, I will, I’d never do that.!” He argues. “I just want to make sure everything’s alright before she leaves.” He says quietly into his food.

“You could just take her home.” Jimin chuckles. “you’d get to make sure all the time then.” He teases, and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Its not that simple. I told you.” He reminds his older coworker, who nods.

“I know, sorry.” He brushes the topic off, before Jungkook’s name is being called out, making Jimin sigh with sympathy for his friend. “I’ll have them wrap it so you can heat it up later?” He asks, and Jungkook nods as he wipes his mouth already standing up.

“Thanks.”

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“hm, yeah, it all looks like it.” Jungkook hums as he inspects your ear, before taking out some cotton swabs and a cleaning solution. “But it’s not bad. Most likely just your immune system being a little over-protective.” He reassures you as he moves to put some of the cleaning solution on the ball of cotton.

“is that bad?” You wonder. “when will I be normal?”

“You’re already normal, don’t worry about that.” The doctor tells you before he holds up your ear to both clean and disinfect it- something you slightly move away from, as it’s uncomfortable. “no no, stay here, yeah?” He tells you, but it’s hard. “you’re doing great..” he mumbles the praise as he makes sure to do a good job while not taking longer than necessary. “Jimin said you saw ducks today?” He tries to distract you, and it seems to work.

“they were in a.. pond, nearby. But there was a fence so I couldn’t get close.” You explain, making Jungkook chuckle. It’s probably for the best you couldn’t- you could’ve fallen into the ice cold waters or gotten lost otherwise. You’re not used to being outside, and Jimin doesn’t have a good sense of what you’re capable of doing and where you should be more supervised than someone else.

You’re holding onto the pink and white little plushy, and he’s again reminded of his choice.

Did he make the right call? Hopefully, because he honestly doesn’t really think that a situation like this will ever truly reoccur like this again. But he had sat down yesterday to go through everything, just to come to a clearer answer for himself. This isn’t something to take lightly, and again, sometimes letting go is the best option to take.

For the rest of the day, you don’t see Jungkook anymore- and neither do you see him the day after, as you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, shoes on your feet and bag packed. Jimin had shed a few tears at seeing you go- but you told him you might visit without needing actual help for once.

The care worker looks nice. He’s wearing a jacket with an official emblem on it for hybrid social work- and he seems really friendly. “You ready?” He asks, and you nod-

There’s no use in waiting for something that won’t happen, after all.

In the small van, you watch all the people and cars pass you by, while the car radio plays slight music on low volume. “if you don’t like the place I’ll bring you, you can always call the number in the phone, okay?” the care worker says, and you nod. The phone you got has a very simplified, easy to understand user interface installed, so it didn’t take you too long to understand how it works. It’s still however quite odd to hold it in your hands.

Everything you thought you knew had been a lie.

“Don’t be afraid to speak up. We’re always just a call away.” He offers, before he parks in front of a tall apartment complex, fancy, high security. He’s being asked twice about where he wants to go and what his name is, as he walks around with you, elevator chiming happily before it opens.

Everything is so.. big. Fancy. Expensive. You shudder, as you remember the last time you’ve been to a place like this.

Will it be the same again? Someone rich and famous buying you just to lock you up and feed you lies? You worry. You really want to go back to the hospital.

When you walk out the elevator and wait in front of another door, you become anxious. But just for a moment, because you start to.. smell something.

And when the door opens, you finally know where you actually are-

As you stand right in front of doctor Jeon, who’s smiling kindly right at you and your wagging tail.

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Jungkook’s apartment is big, very high up in the tall building, and smells like him.

There’s a room just for you, and he’s also got many windows- from the regular balcony and smaller windows in your room, to large one’s going all the way from the floor to the ceiling, showing the tiny city below in the living room. You’re currently sitting on the floor right in front of them, as Jungkook approaches you, sitting down next to you. “You like the view?” He asks, and you nod.

“Do you think I can be an ant now, too?” you ask, and he looks at you a bit confused. “the people.. they look like ants.” You say, pointing to the people all the way down on the ground walking around despite the late hour.

“would you like to be one of them?” He wonders, having brought you a pillow to sit on now- one you happily take.

You nod. “they.. get to have phones. And they meet friends. Or eat at restaurants and drink. Or they buy large stuffed toys.” You explain, and Jungkook realizes that this must’ve been your standard.. or rather only form of entertainment up until now.

Instead of experiencing life, you only got to watch it in silence, secretly.

“Well, you already have a phone. And if you want, we can go eat at restaurants and cafes too- though I might not get you coffee.” He chuckles, watching you look at him now with drooping ears. “it’s bitter.” He explains, and you nod at that.

“Hm.. then maybe something else?” You ask. “but not chocolate. That makes me feel bad.” You tell him, and he internally cringes. Of course it makes you feel bad- you’re a hybrid, and therefore sensitive to it.

“we can check if a Café has hybrid alternatives. I’m sure there’s one.” He tells you, and you smile, tail swishing around a bit as you yawn. “now come on, let’s go to bed.” He says before he gets up, and you look up at him.

“Can I sleep here?” You ask, and much to your surprise, Jungkook nods easily.

“sure. I’ll put your mattress here then.” He offers as he disappears into your room to fetch just that and some bedding to make you comfortable.

This really is quite different from your old home.

You watch how he carefully creates a good bed for you on the floor in front of the window, not just slap everything down there and have you do it yourself. No, this is caring- he even brings out your pink and white plushy that you’ve been given back at the hospital, before he smiles at you who moves to crawl beneath the blankets. “if you need another blanket, there’s one on the couch. And if you end up not liking it here just wake me up and I’ll help you set up your bed in your room again-“ he explains, when your tail just starts wagging wildly beneath the thick bedding.

“Thank you “ You say, and he smiles gently, before he leaves you be.

Even long after he’s switched off his own lights as well, you’re still awake, watching the people down below go about their late night activities. From groups of friends drunkenly stumbling home to couples holding hands, office workers waving for a cab home and policemen patrolling to make sure everything’s alright.

You feel like right now, you’re just one of them as well. Just another being, existing in the same world and same universe as them, experiencing your own life.

And with Jungkook at your side, you already feel like this is going to be the best life ever.

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When you wake up the next morning, it’s slow. Steady. A smooth transition from dreaming to becoming conscious.

Your eyes are still closed while you realize someone’s touching you- but with no ill intentions. Instead, the hands simply adjust the blanket over your body, tucking it back into place so you won’t get cold. He makes no efforts to wake you up at all, instead, Jungkook simply rests a hand on you shoulder for a moment, before he leaves you be.

You can hear him do something in the open kitchen nearby. Your ears tilt towards him, a reaction out of your control.

When he sits down wit his coffee in hand on the couch nearby to watch TV, he catches your now opened eyes- and he smiles. “Good morning.” He offers, and your tail can’t help but react to it as it begins to wag beneath the covers. “slept well?” He asks, and you nod.

You look around for a clock.

“It’s a little past one PM.” He tells you, and you sit up straight at that, shocked. “don’t worry- if I’d wanted you to wake up earlier, I wouldn’t have let you sleep this long.” He reassures you, setting his mug down on the coffee table in front of him. “But it looked like you needed some proper rest, so I let you.”

“I'm sorry.” You mumble, looking to the other side to see the windows show almost nothing from the world outside, fog thick and heavy in the air.

“No need to be.” Jungkook promises. “if you want we can go out later- but the weather isn’t too nice, so we could also very much just stay in today.” He says.

“Don’t you have to work?” You ask, wondering how this will work out in the future as well. Will you have to stay home alone often? Will he at least let you look out of the windows in that case?

“I took my vacation and I’m also finally working on getting rid of all the overtime I’ve collected this year.” He chuckles. “Mostly to help you get used to things, and to.. You know, have you get to know me better.” Jungkook explains, and you nod.

“So... when you go to work again, I’ll stay at home?” You wonder, now relaxing again as a yawn interrupts your words a little, before you stretch your limbs, falling back down onto your makeshift bed.

“We’ll see. I might have someone check in on you once during the day, or I’ll take you to work with me. I’m not too sure about that yet- but we’ll figure it out along the way.” He reassures you. “Right now I believe you should get up and wake up properly, huh?” He laughs, as you nod, slowly standing up to roll up your bedding, struggling a bit to hold it all at once, before you walk into what he showed you is technically your room.

Jungkook smiles. Of course, you don’t have to do this- you could very much just leave it right there and he wouldn’t be bothered, but if this is something you want to do willingly, he will let you. It’ll be very helpful to get you into a comfortable routine as quickly as possible, so he can figure out if he can leave you by yourself, and if so, for how long.

He knows you’re a lot more independent and intelligent than your past owner thought you were- but you still haven’t ever had to live completely on your own, so no one, not even you yourself, knows how you’d handle that. If something was to happen, lets say you drop something in the kitchen and it breaks, it could very much send you into a panic and cause you to get hurt unintentionally. And with him not being home, this could become a problem.

But thats only something in his mind for now. He’ll figure this out somehow.

He has to.

When you come back out the bathroom after getting ready for the day, Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little, waving you closer to where he’s sitting on the sofa. “Turn around for me.” He chuckles, properly pulling your tail out through the designated opening in the back of your shorts. “There we go.” He says, and you sit down next to him now, looking at the windows.

“Why can’t I see the city anymore?” You ask him, and he sets down his coffee, cup now empty.

“Because the clouds are too thick.” He explains. “We’re basically in the middle of them, so that’s why you can’t see.”

“We’re in the clouds?” You ask, mesmerized, and he nods.

“We are.” He agrees.

“So if I went on the balcony, I could touch them?” You wonder, and he laughs.

“I mean, technically? But they’re not soft or anything, so you might be disappointed.” He warns you.

“But you’d let me on the balcony?” You ask, and he nods.

“Clouds are just wet though. You’ll just get a shower, basically.” He laughs under his breath, though he does walk into your room with you, to unlock the glass door to the balcony with a key. “Careful though. Can I hold your hand?” He asks, and you nod, though you clearly look confused. “Just so I feel a bit calmer.”

“Why you?” You ask, not really sure why he’d feel any better holding your hand. “Are you scared of the balcony?” You question him, but he shakes his head with a smile.

“No, but I’m scared of you falling.” He reveals.

“Oh.” You simply answer, taking his hand at that, before you step out into the cloudy outdoors-

But just for a moment, because you quickly realize that Jungkook was right-

Clouds aren’t all that fluffy at all.

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You’re out for the first time with Jungkook, and he has to admit, you’re nothing like he thought you’d be like.

You’re so incredibly great at controlling yourself and your reactions to things, always almost instinctively reaching for him if something becomes too much or if something makes you unsure. It makes him feel incredibly proud- because you clearly already have accepted him as your safety person, always relying on him if you feel like you can’t handle something. You always trust that he will do it for you- and he does, even if he only notices doing it in hindsight.

You sometimes seem to get a bit overwhelmed with eye contact from other hybrids and even humans, and he also notices the way you visibly shrink away from anybody trying to talk to you directly. Its most likely a trained response, taught to you with simple conditioning, and he feels a bit upset about it. But its not all that bad as he thought it might be- overall, you’re handling this day out very well.

You’re currently sitting in a hybrid friendly cafe, your eyes wide as you look at the delicately decorated milk foam on top of your hot chocolate that’s specifically made so that you won’t end up with a stomachache. Jungkook can’t help his smile as he watches you enjoy your little treat- the slice of cake you’re eating clearly being enjoyed to its maximum as you savor every bite.

“Did you know you can actually order all by yourself here?” Jungkook tells you, and your ears instantly tilt towards him at that, as you lick your lips clean of the milk foam from your cup.

“Really?” You wonder. “Me too?” You ask him, knowing very well that technically, hybrids of your category aren’t usually allowed to make any purchases by themselves.

But Jungkook nods. “They have a program here.” He explains. “Basically, I’ll pay upfront, and they’ll take your photo and ID so you can get food or something to drink here anytime you’d like, all on your own.” He informs you, and you nod, amazed.

He noticed that things like that make you feel good. Giving you any form of independence, even if it’s just a somewhat illusion, boosts your confidence. And he loves seeing that.

“But I always want to come here with you though.” You say.

“We can.” He nods happily.

“But I can order?” You ask, making him grin.

“Of course.” The doctor agrees. “I can get you an independence card too, once we both got more comfortable with each other.” He tells you.

“Why’re you doing all that?” You ask, a bit confused as you cut another piece of your slice of cake. “Like.. I always thought guys like it when their hybrids are all.. Dependent and stuff.” You shrug.

“Hm. Maybe because I like seeing you happy. And offering you these things makes you happy.” He explains his intentions.

“Would you ever like me as a girlfriend?” You bluntly ask, and Jungkook stutters in his movements a bit, caught entirely off guard. He’s never really ever thought about that at all, and he’s not sure if he really could- but he can’t deny that he does like you, a lot, already. Not to that degree, but he has to admit-

That could change.

“I’m.. Not sure yet.” He admits. “I can’t tell you a full on answer yet. Why do you ask?” He wonders, and you shrug.

“Just asking.” You tell him. “I’ve been told that hybrids can’t be real girlfriends.” You just say, and he fills in the blanks inside his head by deciding that this narrative must’ve been fed to you by your past owner. It’s a common thing a lot of people who’ve never met any hybrid personally say- because they believe that hybrids are nothing but abominations, or forever unable to really decide anything for themselves, when in reality, this isn’t true at all. Just like regular people, hybrids are all different- some will always have to rely on people, while others don’t need any help at all. There’s even hybrids who have full work permits, live on their own, have families and normal average lifes. It’s more common than one might think.

“That’s not true.” Jungkook denies.

“But like, could a hybrid and a normal person even have children?” You ask, and Jungkook nods.

“There’s evidence that hybrid-human pregnancies are generally safe and usually progress normally. The children inherit some hybrid traits depending on gender of the parent and child themselves, but it’s a lot less and therefore especially the visual traits are typically a lot less prominent.” He rants, taking a sip of his iced coffee before he continues. “It’s actually really interesting, because the children usually end up a lot more resilient to common infections like the flu or the common cold- but it’s not very clear as to why. I personally think it might be because viruses that infect humans behave differently in hybrids- so maybe because of that they’re less vulnerable to these things. They do however show up with problems more common in hybrids though, like eye problems or psychological issues.” He continues, and only after a moment or two does he notice you’ve stopped eating, now just watching him with a smile on your face. “...sorry. I was kind of getting lost there..” He apologizes, but you just laugh, tail wagging wildly.

“No, no, go on!” You cheer him on. “I love that face you make when you talk about stuff you like.” You say.

“The face I make?” He chuckles. “What face do I make?”

“I don’t know- your eyes sparkle, and they get all round. And you gesture with your hands.” You explain. “I didn’t understand most of it, but I’ll still listen.”

And Jungkook smiles.

Because honestly-

That's all he could ever ask for.

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Jungkook has definitely changed his mind on you now, almost a month after living together with you.

You’re very open with your affection towards him, a whole lot better at sensing someone’s attraction than a normal human would be, since you don’t really care about what he could be implying with his words- you only take into account what you know how to interpret. And that’s other cues, like body language, scent, and actions.

You don’t try and read between the lines- you just see things for what they are. And apparently, he’s not very good at hiding any of his growing feelings towards you at all.

And with your confidence rising under his care, you’ve become a real threat to his sanity he feels like- because you’re actively flirting with him, finding way after way to make him flustered left and right, always catching you off guard. And the worst part is that he slowly leans into it, accepting it, and also has begun to initiate such contact as well.

Well, its not really a ‘worst’ part. If anything, it feels like he finally found what he’s subconsciously always been looking for.

You’ve been sneaking your way into his bed at night- and somehow, that evolved into you permanently sleeping next to him in his bed, something that you both just quietly agreed on. This is however, right now, the first time you’re both actively cuddling- slowly testing the water so to speak as you quietly take new steps towards each other. Nothing has to be said in this moment- there's no words needed to really communicate with each other.

He’s never seen you this close, and neither have you.

His hand slowly moves to hold yours, before you place your palm on his, comparing your hand sizes before you giggle still a little sleepy. He doesn’t know why, but somehow, he just feels like its the right thing to do in this moment, as he pulls your hand closer to kiss the back of it, eye contact he holds with you visibly sending out the message he wants to with success as your eyes widen, before you smile a bit shy.

He already has plans on how to incorporate you into his work in the future, so he can always have you somewhat at his side, while also giving you a genuine task you can manage.

You suddenly move closer to him, as he lays on his back now, you hugging him closely so you’re almost halfway on top of him, basking in the physical contact you have with him. You’re both only dressed in comfortable sleeping clothes, nothing but underwear and lazy shirts, and you love this. It’s like you’re currently living in a vacuum, time having no meaning, outside world simply waiting for you both to be ready to continue at any time.

But for now, you just want to stay like this. Close to him.

And its also very clear that he doesn’t mind this situation either- not one bit, as he initiates contact as well, hand running over the length of your arm as he leans his head close to yours. “We have to get up soon.” He tells you, and your ears instantly move towards the sound of his voice, though you whine in protest, clinging to him now. “We can’t stay in bed all day.”

“Why not?” You wonder, leaning your chin on his shoulder. “I like being in bed with you.” You say, wagging tail making it clear that you’re very aware of how this sentence could also be interpreted.

“Do you?” He answers, not backing down anymore as he usually would. “we’re just being lazy. That’s boring, no?” He asks, and you laugh a little, before turning onto your back next to him.

“Well, yeah. But it doesn’t have to be.” You propose, and at that he moves now, leaning over you ad he looks at you beneath him.

“You’re right.” He agrees, voice low because with you being this close, there’s no need for much volume in his words. “I could think of a few things we could do.” He purrs down at you, and you grin, comfortable and even excited. You know exactly what this could mean, and you’re actively seeking this out- you know he likes you in a more personal manner than just hybrid and caretaker. This is so much more than that already.

He just needs to give you a sign- and this might be it.

“Such as?” You ask him, clearly expecting something from him. And he knows what it is.

Wordlessly leaning in to kiss you-

An action that’s instantly returned, in a silent confession of love.

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“this is such a genius idea.” Jimin says, watching you effortlessly keep the young hybrids occupied in the waiting area, while Jungkook goes through patient after patient. “They’re so calm like this. No wonder you’ve become the most sought after doctor for young hybrids.” He tells the younger doctor, who smiles at the scene in the waiting room- all the usually very fidgety hybrids of different kinds listening to you telling them a story, visualized by some stuffed animals you’re holding.

“I couldn’t do it without her.” Jungkook simply says.

“Well, I’ll have to go start my shift in the ER, or Yoongi will rip my head off.” Jimin laughs, before he waves at you, and then Jungkook. “take care!” He says as he leaves-

And Jungkook smiles, as he waves his friend and former coworker goodbye.

"Take care.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook fanfic

[lovelybrooke]

Demon Slayers with a Foreign Reader

This was requested by @ruiroku, sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy.

Check out my other works here: Masterlist.

I have two ideas for a foreign reader. From what I was able to find, Demon Slayers take place during the Taisho period (1912-1926). This was around the time Japan opened back up to Western influence after previously cutting themselves off from the rest of the world. Because of this, I could image the reader coming to Japan for many different reasons.

The best idea I had was reader being a doctor/nurse who is studying Japanese medical practices or teaching western medical practices (keep in mind that when I say "western" I don't necessary mean American/European. I just mean literally anything to the West, which is a lot of places, as to keep the readers original home vague).

Either way, throughout your time in Japan, you got to learn a lot about Japanese culture and practices, and overall enjoyed your stay there. Over time, however, you began to notice strange happenings and disappearances, especially the weaker patients you would take care of.

You made the assumption that your patients were simply succumbing to their illnesses, but whenever you checked up on their families, they claimed that they had just disappeared. This lead you on a wild goose chaise to find your missing patients, since you knew how venerable they were.

All this led you to be cornered by a hungry demon, who was enraged at your attempts of finding your patients. He was right about to kill you before you were saved by a very...eccentric looking man, to say the least. In one fell swoop, he chopped the demons head off, saving you from a very painful death.

The man, who you figured out was named Rengoku, was very loud, and talked very fast. So, it was hard for you to translate what he was saying. He assumed you were in shock, so lowered himself down to your level, and explained slowly he would be taking you with him to get your wounds treated. It didn't take long before you passed out.

This was how you became acquainted with the Demon Slayers. After your wounds were treated, you came to the realization that your former patients were killed, and it hurt very much. You felt like you weren't doing your job as a doctor and failed their loved ones. It took a toll on your mental health, Shinobu recommending that you stay until you feel better both mentally and physically.

The Demon Slayers Headquarters is surprisingly cozy, even with the many intense figures there. Shinobu is the one who you spend most of your time with, since she takes it upon herself to treat your wounds personally. She takes very good care of you, and you're intensely grateful, but sometimes you can feel a little overwhelmed with how strangely focused she is on you and your wellbeing. Though, she does offer to teach you a thing or two about medicines that can treat demon related injuries.

Once you are able to move on your own, you spend a lot of your time with the other Hashira's. Rengoku is very interested in learning about your home country and could listen to you talk about your home all day. He's very childlike in his curiosity for you, often ranting happily about his own interests and dreams as a Hashira. While he is very lighthearted, he does often remind you that you own him for saving you.

Others like Giyu pretend not to care about you and want you to leave as soon as possible. However, when it comes to your safety, they take it very seriously. Being a foreigner, Giyu views you as target for many dangerous people. He often reminds you that you are weak and easy to manipulate, though you don't really hear any malice behind his works, almost like his he genuinely worried about you.

Uzui is pretty intimidating when you first meet him, but you eventually learn not to fear him. You get to know him more and more when you start to patch him up after missions. You don't realize as you begin to open up to him about how you miss your home and family. Uzui doesn't seem to mind though, as he listens to you carefully and even offers advice on how to acclimate better to your new home. He even suggests that you meet his wives some time.

Once the Tanjiro and the gang arrive, the quicky warm up to you. Tanjiro thinks you are the sweetest person ever, and always feels bad when you're forced to take care of him after missions. You honestly remind him of the warmth of a parent that he very much misses. He also loves that Nezuko loves you. Zenitsu also likes you, especially since you are much easier on him, and Inosuke doesn't have that much of an opinion on you, but he doesn't hate you. In fact, he's probably the most interested in your home country since he's lived a pretty secluded life until becoming a demon slayer.

The kids being, well, kids, are very interested in your native culture. Tanjiro is sympathetic and understands that you might miss your home often, so he offers for you to teach him things regarding your culture. He might even learn how to cook native dishes that can remind you of your home. Unlike the others, who want you to forget about your native country, Tanjiro feels bad whenever you talk about missing your family or friends, even though it fills him with jealously.

They are also obsessed with the way you sound speaking your native language since they think it sounds so cool. Some of them like Rengoku might even want to learn, while others are simply content with hearing you talk. They think you're so smart, being able to speak to languages. Even if you're not fluent in Japanese, they're all willing to help you with anything you're struggling with. Though, there are times where they'll bend the truth on what they are saying whenever you're confused, most notably when they're talking about something not so savory.

In conclusion, even once you get better, you're staying with them. The Hashira's are very good at making you feel like you owe them something, and so they abuse that to get you to stay. You don't even notice that you're slowly and slowly forgetting about leaving, as you start to work as a nurse with Shinobu. Even once you get better and can technically leave on your own, you're constantly reminded of how dangerous the world is without your demon slayer friends.

---

A/n: I might write a part 2 with the demons, so tell me if you would want that.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #yandere demon slayer x reader #yandere demon slayer #kny x reader

[singingcicadas]

idw Ratchet is someone who follows orders and respects authority. He might follow his conscience in spur-of-the-moment decisions that allows him the leeway/initiative to act on his own (e.g. setting up clinic on Dead End, breaking cover to save Verity and Hunter, going to look for Drift, voting against Rodimus in mtmte) but he's never openly defied the orders of an acting leader. Regardless if he doesn't agree with said order and thinks it's stupid. Or wrong.

Even when Ratchet thinks Rodimus' treatment of Drift is unfair, he never speaks up against Rodimus during the actual issue of the exile verdict. He only offers Drift silent support by helping him up on the way out, because Rodimus is the captain and you don't argue with the captain. Yes he thinks Rodimus is a crap captain and acts condesending towards him all the time but when it comes to rank and orders there's no ambiguity.

Voting against Rodimus in the crisis act is a legitimate expression of disapproval, made anonymously in private. He doesn't care about Rodimus knowing his vote, but in public it stays anonymous. He does tell Rodimus off about what he did to Drift, but again, he makes sure it's a private one-on-one appointment. He also doesn't make Rodimus formally revoke Drift's exile or sanction his search, he resigns his position as CMO and quietly leaves to look for Drift himself as a personal commitment.

Common stereotype of what Ratchet is not:

Medic ethics and commitment to patients comes first, factions be damned. I don't care if he's a Decepticon, he's my patient.

No he's not actually like that? When Megatron's in custody he's all lets dissect him awwwww why can't we dissect him why does mass murderers still get rights that's so stupid can't I just torture him a little?

Like he spent the whole war patching up Decepticon-inflicted wounds and witnessing Decepticon-inflicted deaths. He's not a saint. He has as much good reason to hate Megatron and his faction as any other Autobot.

In fact he was pretty eager to ask Optimus about what he's going to decide as Megatron's punishment after he heard about Optimus frying Megatron on the voltage harness.

Optimus has his heart on clemency. Ratchet's the one hoping for execution or something equally nasty. Even though their opinions doesn't line up, Ratchet's still 100% supportive of Optimus' decision.

He repairs Megatron only because of Bumblebee's orders, and makes his unwillingness known.

Later in mtmte Ratchet does save Megatron's life of his own volition and repairs him again, but that's after he's lived with Megatron on the same ship for six months (again something that he considers to be a colossally bad idea but is forced to live with because of orders) and got to know him as a person. Not because of bleeding heart syndrome.

Also Ratchet's not just a grouch all the time. He can be blunt but also knows when to be respectful as appropriate to the occasion. He reprimands Wheeljack for being disrespectful to Bumblebee because leaders should be treated like leaders.

The guy's been CMO since Nominus Prime, essentially the highest-ranking of his profession on the planet; you can't get to that type of position and hold it through consecutive leaders for millions of years without considerable interpersonal skills and knowledge of social protocol.

Prowl does have Ratchet on his little blacklist but the stuff on there really just refers to Ratchet saving Verity and Hunter back in Infilitration. I read it as more of a testament to Prowl's pettiness than Ratchet actually being a problem.

#Ratchet also doesn't stop Rodimus when he orders Chromedome to inject. even if Chromedome protests #Things ratchet might do if unhappy with someone's leadership: #arrange a private meeting to talk about his concerns like a normal adult #do what he can within what leeway he has without being openly rebellious #act first ask permission later #snark about it #grouch about it #complain about it #then go with it #Things Ratchet will NOT do: #scream at the person in charge in public confrontation #undermine the person in charge by participating in said public confrontation #make a scene #he doesn't do morality lectures either #what is up with that anyway #transformers #maccadam #idw transformers #mtmte #Ratchet #I'm pretty sure other ratchets are like this too? tfp. bayverse. cyberverse #don't know about tfa cant remember most of the stuff in that #wfc trilogy has a different background for his character so. but it's the only Ratchet with a 'I don't care about factions' attitude #idk where all the other stereotypes come from is everyone basing their interpretations on the synth-energon episode in tfp? #yeah he was yelling at Optimus a lot there but it was all about how Optimus should have used MORE violence #and also with the throwing wrentches. why does he throw wrenches?

[no-face-no-shame]

A quick vent but this really bothered me

Why do people like All Might bashing so much? Like, what's the point? Especially since most of it is so out of character that it's just painful to read. Like, he's not flawless (that's kinda the point of his character - breaking the illusion of perfection.) But writing him as abusive/mean is just ridiculous, taking into consideration that his big *thing* is wanting good for others.

Today I saw a fic where the whole plot was basically "Aizawa is a good dad to Izuku who's diagnosed with autism, while All Might is horrible and ableist." Excuse me, but WHAT?? Ah yes, that man who's famously DISABLED, would totally be ableist and think that accommodation for a disabled student is "too much" and "unnecessary." That man who needs constant medical assist, who had to change his whole life to accommodate to his disability. Yeaaaaah, right.

Also, why are so many of AM bashing fics at the same time putting other teachers on pedestal. Aizawa was pretty awful to Izuku at the beginning, because he's a very judgemental person who needed to learn that he's sometimes wrong about others and that Izuku had a lot to offer. He certainly wasn't a perfect teacher, none of the UA teachers were. Aizawa got a great character development and later on was a good, dedicated teacher who sacrificed a lot for his kids. But treating him like he's a total angel who would never do anything wrong is just incorrect, especially considering that he's rough on students that are different from the rest in the way he considers "bad".

It really rubs me the wrong way when people literally ignore canon personalities of characters, break and reshape them into something those characters never were. You want a bad mentor for Izuku? Write an AU where his mentor is AFO. Write a villain AU where All Might is the bad guy and he's using Izuku as a tool. Or literally make an OC at this point. Just work with a different character that actually matches what you want to portray. Make Endeavour Izuku's mentor. Literally anything works better than trying to make All Might into a bad, cruel and abusive person. That's exactly the thing he'd never do.

I'm all for interpretations that focus more on the negative side of various characters - it can be very interesting. But some of y'all really just decided that you don't like AM for some reason and decided to rewrite the whole character, turning him inside out, to fit your personal issues with him. Issues that simply aren't there

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #all might #yagi toshinori #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #deku #eraserhead #all might bashing #i rarely write fandom beef stuff but that was so stupid that it made me fume #faceless

[ma1dita]

🐥 a lil something for jason grace? just yk him meeting hephaestus!reader for the first time at camp half blood and she's this bubbly girl who befriends everyone cuz that's just how she is and like she offers everyone solutions to material problems like aphrodite kids with vanity mirrors that light up on their own, apollo kids with medical kits that look small outside but has TONS of storage, demeter kids with self watering pots, etc

reader gives him a welcome gift (leo and piper too), a compact watch sword thingy like percy's and jason's like new to this bcs all his life he's been treated like a prince in waiting, a leader most of the time and he hasn't had anyone do something for him cuz its usually him doing things

ooh and a lil bit of leo valdez teasing him bcs of him blushing when she's around cuz reader is his sister basically, same dad and all

Thank you and happy bday again!

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

jason grace x hephaestus!reader

a/n: this was so cute but pls lmk if i got his character right...i had to reference my irl pjo bestie for this i love this boy

wc: 766

Jason Grace thinks you talk too much.

And too fast. It’s one of the first things he noticed about Camp Half-Blood weirdly enough, besides the nagging feeling that he didn’t belong there. There wasn’t so much as a day where he wouldn’t see you whizzing past campers offering to tinker items to make their lives easier, and he could barely keep up—which says a lot for a boy raised to be a soldier.

It was like you set everything alight, and the flames you left in your midst could not be tamed; everyone was enamored by you, and admittedly, so was he. The son of Jupiter was sure his brain had short-circuited along with everything else going on but all of his worries were dashed when you presented him with a wristwatch shield.

Jason blinks slowly.

“Are you listening? Do you like it? I can change the finish on it or scrap it completely if you don’t think it’s cool, or maybe it's too big? Let me see your wrist—Jace?”

You wave your hand in his face before grabbing his arm, encircling his wrist with the metal links to make sure your creation fits him comfortably.

Too torn between the predicament of being raised by fucking wolves and training for a war that no one knows the start date of, Jason Grace has not had too much time to acquaint himself with the matters of the heart. So in his eyes, this poor sweetheart thought your welcome gift was the equivalent of a marriage proposal, or something like that…

Your half-sibling Leo thought this was hilarious of course, his teasing grin stoking the fire in the pit of Jason’s stomach when he asked to see it. The blond boy was gentle with your gift, shaking his head at the notion that it meant anything, that you were just kind to everyone, and nothing about it whatsoever makes him special.

Okay buddy…

So of course when you came to confront him about Leo’s taunting that had reached all of the inhabitants of cabin 9 (and the armory, and the counselors, and even Chiron and Mr. D—the biggest gossips of Camp Half-Blood), Jason Grace, a boy who usually has his shit together, was reduced to the phenomenon of being an embarrassed teenager with a crush.

You were standing a little too close for his liking and even if he towered over you, the blaze in your eyes could incite fear in the gods.

“Just because I'm nice and do things for you doesn’t mean that I like you, Jason Grace,” you say adamantly as you cross your arms over your chest. He notices the smudge of soot on your cheekbone, and thinks it looks quite pretty against your complexion.

“Of course.”

“I gave you the wristwatch shield as a welcome gift,” you say next, to which he nods since it’s a fact.

“Of course, I didn’t mea—”

“I mean you’re always protecting others, so I thought someone should protect you for a change,” you mutter, watching him scratch the nape of his neck as your smile spreads like gasoline touched by a lit match. He can’t help but embrace the burn (His serious demeanor is broken by the smile on his face, so big that it almost hurts).

“But you are right, I do like you. Suppose we’ll have to do something about that.”

Thinking hard about the confession that left your mouth, you look like you’re working through a methodical problem to solve— finding the missing piece to a puzzle instead of making the son of Jupiter's face heat up like a thousand suns. He reckons there’s an ambush inside of him as something starts to work harder than usual, not his brain overridden by battle tactics and that of survival— but his heart, beating fast like a well oiled machine (and more importantly like a normal teenage boy). 

Jason reaches out to rub the soot away from your cheek, but when you pull him in by the collar of his shirt to kiss him, he finds himself to be stained by you all the same.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩ #jason grace x reader #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #jason grace fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎ #heroes of olympus x reader #for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

[eros7hanatos]

➽ Things NXX members do when you get sick 

Warnings: established relationships, character and reader live together, pure fluff, SFW, reader doesn’t have to be Rosa, gn reader

Word count: 754

A/N: some fluff to clear my thoughts and make me less stressed TT, I’m in love with all of them.

Luke Pearce

A little panicked, as soon as you stumbled out of your room to go on about your day, your face flushed for no apparent reason he yelped, “No way you’re going anywhere today! You’re staying at home and recovering!”

Literally rushes to the convenience store nearby to buy you medicine. You wake up from your nap to see him drenched in sweat with a plastic bag in his hand and a smile on his face.

Knows your favorite foods that you eat when you're sick and tries his best to make it but, well, he’s not the best cook. So he buys some instead. 

He makes sure that you take your medicines on time and always stays by your side.

Drowns you in hugs and kisses, no matter what you say or do can make him stop. “Luke! You’re going to get sick as well!” he continues to drown you in love and affection.

Such a cutie, trying his best to take care of you. Cheers you up by telling stories, either from his past or funny stories of you guys.

Artem Wing

Immediately pulls you back to bed as soon as he feels your temperature. “You have a fever. You need to stay home and rest.”

A lot calmer than Luke or Marius.

Has basic medicine at home, since he’s a workaholic he takes medicine and works from home. Quickly drives to the nearest convenience store to buy more medicine, if needed. He won’t do anything like that to you though. Insists you stay in bed.

Offers to clear up work or studies for you if on a deadline or urgent. 

Home cooked meals, he’s a great cook, I just know it. 

Such a serious and worried cutie, tries his best to help. Offers his arm for support wherever you go and feeds you water every 30 minutes.

Vyn Richter

Notices something is off almost instantly. “You don’t look so well.” “I’m fine.” after a few moments of silence, and of him inspecting you, “You’re sick. You need to rest.”

Definitely the calmest in the group. I mean he’s a doctor. Psychiatrist, but he still has the general medical knowledge.

Has ALL the medicine you need, throat lozenges? check. Tylenol for headaches? check. No convenience store run for him. 

Brews you herbal tea depending on your symptoms and omg are they delicious and cures your sore throat almost instantaneously. Reminds you to take your medicine on time, never misses one.

Acts as an actual doctor in hopes of cheering you up, “It seems like you’ve been overworked for too long, too much stress. I prescribe you 3-5 days of rest.” “Yes, Dr. Richter~” you play along, having fun. 

Marius von Hagen

At first he panicked when he felt your body rising in temperature. “Ah! Jiejie, why’re you so hot?” You laugh at his wording, even if your throat hurts. “I know I’m hot, but thanks for the reassurance” you tease him back. “You have a fever, Jiejie!” he says, touching your forehead, ignoring what you just said.

Such a drama queen. Has Payton bring every single medicine they could find in that huge mansion of his as well as send Payton to go buy every single medicine on the shelf of the nearby convenience store. 

Was about to call the ambulance, which you refused of course, “It’s just a fever! Rest and water is all I need!” He insists on driving you to the hospital. After a talk with Payton, both of you begging Marius that it’s not that bad, he reluctantly agrees.

He contacts AT LEAST 3 doctors to come immediately to treat you. All of this makes you even more tired, you decide to lie down and take a break from all of his… worried actions…

He finally finds you in his room, all wrapped up and sleeping. He stays by your side the whole time, offering help when not even needed. 

“Where are you going?” “To the toilet.” “Let me help.” He helps bring you to the toilet, just as you step inside he doesn’t leave. You raise an eyebrow. “Um?” “I can help!” “I don’t need help anymore! I can pee by myself!” “but-” “Marius, get out!” ”forgive him. He just worries about you <3

Once you get better though, ohoho, he’s teasing you about this every chance he gets. You soon miss the quiet days of your fever and how he was always worried and listening to you. Now he’s back to his teasing and antics.

#Tears of Themis #Luke pearce #artem wing #Vyn richter #marius von hagen #xiayan #zuoran #moyi #lujinghe #luke pearce x reader #artem wing x reader #vyn richter x reader #marius von hagen x reader #tears of themis x reader #NXX members

[petrichor-idyllic]

LONGING FROM AFAR

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Minho x fem!Med-jack!reader. Kinda mutual pining. Takes place before Thomas arrives.

Minho has always been confident and cocky, that is until a girl shows up in the Glade, completely changing the dynamic. What makes it worse is that Minho recognises her, though he doesn't know where from. It doesn't help that he's having some less-than appropriate dreams. The last thing he needs is an injury out in the Maze, leading him to being treated by you. Little does he know, it's not just him experiencing everything.

CONTENT WARNING: language, suggestive content and spice, minimal use of (Y/N). Pretty long but bear with.

Minho noticed a lot of things about you, even at the beginning.

When he got back to the Glade and heard about a girl coming up, he thought Newt was telling him a bad joke. But it was the truth. There you were.

Minho wasn't going to talk to you. He had no intention of distracting himself from his work. But the night you showed up, he was the same as everyone else. All eyes on you as you stared into the flames of the Bonfire

Newt had been put in charge of looking after you since Alby was sceptical about trusting the other Gladers just yet. He sat beside you on a log, offering you a drink and talking with little to no response.

You didn't seem scared. Or even uncomfortable. You just looked lost; like you were still processing what was going on. And the Maze and your life now was something you never really wrapped your head around.

Minho could tell you didn't see the boys as a threat. It wasn't that they wouldn't try anything, it was that you seemed confident in dealing with it.

Your baggy jacket had the hood pulled up, your hair falling around your face and the fabric being used as a shield. Something that would become somewhat of a trademark of your look.

But the thing that stuck out was he knew you. He couldn't point out where or how, but he did. He figured he'd known you before the Maze. It wasn't uncommon for Gladers to say they recognise people, like when you know someone's face but can't figure out where from.

But this was different. He knew you, like actually knew you. He hadn't spoken a word to you, yet he could make some pretty accurate guesses about you. All of which ended up not being that far off.

Even as time passed, whenever you were there, Minho's gaze always fell on you. You didn't say much to anyone, really. You were often found with Newt, who seemed to be your favourite Glader.

You would eat and spend free time with Newt, and he would guard you whilst showering. It was also obvious to Minho that Newt enjoyed spending time with you as well. He seemed brighter and spoke about you a lot; something that Minho didn't complain about.

But it did make him feel weird.

When you became a Med-jack, there was a string of "injured" Gladers who were very disappointed when they ended up getting treated by one of the boys. The medical hut had never been so busy.

Once the new Greenie came up after a month, Minho realised he was jealous. You were nurturing yet forward and the Greenie clung to you like there was no tomorrow.

I know her. She's mine.

The thought shocked him. He wasn't like that; at least he didn't think he was like that. He had no right to be like that, you guys had never even spoken.

That was when the dreams started.

Heated breath against his neck. His fingers bruising your waist. Unholy noises that filled his hut. Feelings he had never experienced before.

The dreams would vary. Some were loving and filled with sweet nothings and slow, caring intimacy. Others were rough; more forceful. Full of passion and greediness as need would consume him whole.

He'd always wake up the same, though. Flustered and frustrated and having to get up to work before he could deal with himself. It was definitely starting to cause a problem in rising sexual frustration.

He didn't really get it before. The other Gladers were always complaining about how horny they were and the straight dudes always pining for a girl to show up. Typical teenage hormones. But Minho had always been too preoccupied to even think about it. His goal was freedom and survival. And now a girl he had never even spoken to was making him go feral.

"Dude, are you good?" Ben had been watching Minho for a while as he leaned over the table in the middle of the Map Room. They were meant to be comparing routes and examining them before they headed out into the Maze for the day.

Minho had been staring at the same piece of paper for about fifteen minutes. Clearly, none of it sinking in.

"Minho?"

"Hm?" The boy looked up, meeting the concerned gaze of his friend. Minho had never been like this. He was always on the ball, noticing things that Ben wouldn't have ever even paid attention to. Yet, he was totally spaced out.

"Are you good?"

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're acting shucking weird, bro. The shuck's goin' on?" Minho wasn't about to admit that the reason his abilities were slipping was because he was being haunted by his wet dream from the previous night.

"Nothin', alright? I'm good."

This went on for weeks. Newt picked up on the change and he was the first to figure out why. He told Minho to talk to you but at this point, Minho couldn't bring himself to. What would he even say? How would he even interact with you like a normal human being after he'd had you in every position in his head?

Newt found it hilarious when a conversation about the complete lack of female anatomy knowledge started at Bonfire night. It was one of the few conversations the both of you had been involved in, even if you still weren't directly speaking.

Being a biology expert and a vagina owner, it quickly turned into a lecture that the boys were surprisingly respectful of. They seemed eager to learn and you weren't ashamed about talking about it, since sex education was just another health topic. Though Minho didn't know how to act when he found out you were on birth control.

Minho's red face and avoidance of eye contact with, well, anyone just egged Newt on more. He asked at least once a day if he'd gained the courage to talk to you yet.

He had not.

He started actually liking going out into the Maze. The Maze was when he got to be alone. The breeze blowing through his hair, his mind occupied with keeping track of his path and an ironic sense of freedom. And he was a safe distance from his nagging friend.

That was until he turned a corner and nearly ran face first into a Griever. Grinding to a halt, the slimy, grotesque creature turned to face him. Without hesitation, Minho took off, turning around and sprinting as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

The Griever easily gained ground on him, swiping and slashing from mere metres away. In his escape, he tripped, his feet catching over themselves and he fell to the floor, twisting his ankle.

The Griever wasn't able to stop in time, practically diving over him and rolling to a stop once it realised its mistake. One of it's mechanical arms slicing his back and he hissed in pain, praying that he wasn't stung. He didn't have time to process what had just happened as he scrambled to his feet.

Grievers were scary but dumb. This was common knowledge amongst the Runners. The fleshy monstrosity was yet to turn around as it seemed to be trying to process what had happened itself.

Fighting through the pain, Minho sprinted away in the direction he'd just fled from.

His leg was in agony, his back bleeding but he didn't stop. Running as fast as he possibly could towards the safety of the Glade.

After a couple of swift turns and a lot of painful footsteps, he dared look back. The Griever was gone. He was safe.

"Shuck this," he mumbled to himself. He had plenty of time and was meant to be running his route, but there was no way he could even begin to think about daring to do that in this condition.

Minho started making his way back to the Glade. The desperate urge to stop and sit down and rest was intoxicating. But he wouldn't get up again, and he knew it.

He didn't even realise his face was bleeding until he entered the corridor leading to the Glade and the crimson liquid dripped off, hitting the stone floor. He must've cut it on a rock on the floor or something.

Entering the Glade, it didn't take long for him to be noticed.

"Minho!" Alby's sharp voice cut through the serene farm setting. "The shuck are you doing back?"

Alby jogged towards him, his face shifting from irritation to concern once he noticed the Runner's injured state.

"Shit," the Leader grumbled, "Newt! Get the Med-jacks!" He shouted in the blond's direction.

"Minho," he approached the boy, "Hey, Minho," Ably grabbed him, wrapping his arm around his back, only for Minho to jolt away in pain. "Shuck it, what happened?"

"Griever," Minho grunted.

"Did you get stung?"

"Do I look like I've been stung?"

"Alby!" Jeff shouted as he approached. "What's going on?"

"Minho got attacked by a Griever, he needs checking. Now."

Newt, Clint and Jeff scrambled to help the injured boy, all three of them in a state of panic. It was rare for Minho to get hurt. It was even rarer for him to get this hurt.

They half-dragged Minho towards the Med-jack hut as the boy tried his best to keep himself going. In the midst of the chaos, Minho had completely forgot that you are, in fact, a Med-jack.

"Holy shit," you gasped and Minho's head snapped towards you. "Newt, what the shuck happened?"

"I-I don't know," the blond spluttered out, "he said he got attacked by a Griever."

"Shit, sit him down," the boys do what you tell them, walking him over to the bed and struggling to place the Runner safely. "Minho," your voice is soft and Minho knows that if he wasn't in agony he wouldn't know what to do. "Do you know if you've been stung? How are you feeling?"

"Like a klunk in a t-shirt," he attempted to joke, "no, I'm not stung, just cut up."

You examined him, taking his face between your fingers, taking in he features and the cut across his cheek. He moved his arm slightly and you caught a glimpse of the blood slowly soaking through his shirt. Walking around, your eyes widened.

"Take his shirt off," you directed your coworkers. "Now, c'mon."

"What?" The thought of being shirtless in front of you somehow freaked him out more than his recent brush with a Griever.

"Your back is bleeding badly," you stated, "and I have to check you for any other injuries."

You moved out of the way to let the boys help Minho undress, leaving him embarrassed and exposed. Not that there was anything to be embarrassed about. Minho looked like he had been carved out of stone. He spent all day every day exercising, so it wasn't much of a shock, but you still had to remind yourself not to get distracted.

The main focus was sorting out Minho's back and to check for spinal damage. Luckily, it was just a minor cut that was bleeding a hell of a lot.

Minho seemed to be incredibly jumpy. Every time you touched him, he flinched away. You used glue strips to pull the skin back together and wrapped the bandages around his middle. With Minho becoming visibly tense when you pressed your hand against his abs from behind to stabilise the fabric, you assumed that he didn't like physical contact. So, you became cautious to touch him as little as possible to try not to make him uncomfortable.

That was easier said than done when it came to addressing his facial injuries. It didn't look that bad; a surprisingly clean cut.

You stood in between Minho's legs, his face once again between your fingers as you delicately tried to pull the sides of the wound back together. Clint and Jeff were busy making sure Minho's back was appropriately covered and preparing more supplies for you accordingly and Newt was just watching.

Unbeknownst to Minho, you'd actually been sharing the same far away glances. You'd drunkenly confessed to Newt during a game of truths that Minho was the only Glader you were actually attracted to and it felt like you knew him. But with him always being out in the Maze and you always being busy with work, you felt like your paths weren't really meant to cross. You lived in the same place, but it was painfully obvious Minho didn't want to interact with you.

What you failed to tell Newt was that you felt a strong connection with the boy that was basically a stranger. He was unbelievably familiar to you, something you failed to explain even to yourself.

Newt was getting frustrated himself with the stubborn awkwardness you both possessed, but all it did was further prove you'd be a good match. He'd decided to stay and observe because Minho was his friend, but it was also because this was the first time either of you had actually interacted.

You were oblivious to it all at the moment. The panic of Minho being injured caused your anxiety about talking to him to vanish and be replaced with focus on your work. You were also oblivious to Minho's lingering hands as he fought to urge to put them on you waist and the puppy-dog look he couldn't seem to stop.

He'd never been this close to you. The closest being your sex ed lesson. He took the opportunity to watch you. Your face was stoic and firm as you concentrated on placing glue strips in a way that wouldn't be uncomfortable. He couldn't help but find the way your brow furrowed and the way strands of hair escaped your poorly tied up hairstyle cute.

God, you were so close. Too close. Close enough for all of Minho's dreams to start filling his head. He tried desperately to stay calm and distract himself but it wasn't working. You were being so gentle and attentive.

"How does that feel?" You asked absentmindedly, something you did to all your patients. It was such an innocent question that is made Minho even more flustered due to the context he'd previously heard it in his own head. "Minho?"

"It's uh, it's fine- it feels good. Well, not good, it feels klunky- but not like bad, like you've done a good job it just hurts. It.. it feels okay," you raised your eyebrow slightly, a small smirk playing on your lips. Minho inwardly cringed but you were entertained.

From what everyone had told you, Minho was smart and smooth, often overly confident and quick with his wit and even quicker with his actions. Maybe it was the injuries, but the Keeper of the Runners was currently a stuttering mess in front of you.

"Does anything else hurt?" You didn't falter at Minho's response. You're a professional, after all.

"Uh, yeah, I think I rolled my ankle."

"Which one?" He tapped his left leg and you nodded. "Can you take your shoe off?" He winced as he attempted to do so only for you to gesture him to stop.

You lowered yourself to the floor, kneeling in front of him as you untied the laces of his running shoes, trying to be as gentle as possible removing it.

Minho thought his brain might actually melt. You were on your knees in front of him, nursing to his injuries.

He made eye contact with Newt as you rolled his trouser leg up, examining the potential damage. Newt was grinning like an idiot. He had never seen Minho like this. Clint and Jeff were oblivious to whatever was going on and Newt felt like he was in on a well-kept secret. All Minho could do was glare at his friend.

"It looks sprained," you mainly said it to yourself but it quickly dawned on Minho what that meant.

"What about running?"

You looked up at him, pressing your lips into a thing line. "Sorry, buddy, you're gonna be out of commission for while." You rose again, hands in your pockets as you looked down at him. "You've got off pretty lucky all things considered. The cuts aren't deep, they just look bad and your ankle just has a nasty sprain. It should be better in a week or so, but that's only if you rest and stay off it."

"You gotta be shucking kidding me." You scoffed at Minho's dismayed.

"Don't worry too much - I'll give you some regular check-ups and keep an eye on it. You'll be back in the Maze in no time; I'll make sure of that." You playfully winked at him in an attempt to ease his nerves, which seemed to work.

You turned to Newt, "You gonna break the news to Alby or should I?"

"The shank should be happy Minho here is still bloody kickin'," Newt stood up straight, stretching slightly. "I'll go let him know."

You left Minho sitting there as you started talking to Clint and Jeff, telling both of them to go on break since both boys were suddenly very pale and slightly shaken up. You figured losing Minho would have been a massive hit to the Glade and for a second there, it felt very life or death.

"What am I meant to do now?" Minho asked as Clint and Jeff left.

You shrugged. "Whatever you want, man." You walked back over, returning to your position standing in front of him. "You've got a week off, enjoy yourself - well, not too much but you get what I mean."

Unlike Minho, you were having a surprisingly easy time talking to him. Almost natural.

"If you're bored, you can always chill here. It's not like serious injuries are common. You guys are pretty good at your job, so we mainly just deal with Slicer incidents." You were trying to be subtle about it but you were hoping that Minho would take the casual hint to spend some time with you.

You suddenly remember something, walking over to a cupboard, you pick up a makeshift crutch that was leaning against the wood, curtesy of Gally. "Here."

You handed him the crutch and he clearly didn't want to take it and admit defeat, but he did.

"Thanks," the conversation and interaction had reached it's natural end, but despite Minho's determined avoidance, he found himself not wanting to leave. "Can I, uh, can I stay here?"

You grinned at him, "'Course you can. I just said you could, didn't I?"

And that was it.

You and Minho were officially friends. Kind of.

It took a while, but Minho spent most of his week off talking to you and you both fell into a routine. He liked watching you work. You could effortlessly multitask, patching up people's injuries and maintaining a conversation with him.

Newt was also a welcomed addition during your free time. Well, to you at least. Minho wasn't exactly a fan of watching the pair of you talk and mess around. Your relationship with Newt seemed natural and friendly, something you and Minho were yet to have. Or he doubted ever would ever have. He also started to notice some flirting.

He hated it.

Minho had never been a possessive person, but watching you flirt with his best-friend was invoking even more complicated feelings in him.

It was a joke. Minho didn't know it was, but it was. You and Newt flirted all the time - because it was funny. Newt wasn't attracted to you at all. He had made that abundantly clear but that also meant you trusted him because it meant he wasn't going to try anything. And it was funny watching his disappointment when he didn't think the new Greenies were attractive.

Minho was unaware that it was a joke, though. So, by the time it came for him to go back into the Maze, he was reluctant.

Mainly because he was scared of running into another Griever, but also because he couldn't keep an eye on you. He hadn't exactly been keeping an eye on you before but seeing yours and Newt's dynamic up close wasn't pleasant.

Though, the Maze was a break. An actual break this time and a much needed one.

He'd often spend dinner time sitting with you and Newt, but for the rest of it, Minho would make himself scarce. Even when he was in the Glade.

It didn't help that the dreams were getting worse and it didn't take a genius to see that the tension between the both of you was thick. Exchanging glances, standing near each other when you were both involved in a group interaction, Minho's constant watchful gaze. It wasn't just Newt noticing it anymore.

"Dude, will you quit staring? You're freakin' me out." Alby leant against a post as Minho sat on a log, once again observing from a safe distance. Newt had informed him of Minho's growing crush and Alby had decided to keep an eye on things. He knew that Minho would never do anything to make you uncomfortable, but he still liked to make sure things were running smoothly for you. After all, being the only girl wasn't easy.

"I'm not staring," was Minho's response, even though he didn't bother stopping his glare.

"I thought you two were friends now?"

"She'd rather be friends with Newt."

The comment struck Alby as he looked at his long-time friend. Bonfire nights had become like clockwork to the veterans of the Glade, so neither boy really joined in on the festivities.

"Minho, are you jealous?"

The silence was loud and more than enough of an answer for Alby. Minho dropped his head, some kind of shame washing over him.

"Shuck me," the Leader barked a laugh, a rare occurrence, "you actually really like her, huh?"

"Slim it, man," Minho grumbled.

"Well, you better act on it, shank, you've got some competition," Minho figured Alby was referring to Newt, but when he looked up and saw Gally's arm draped around your shoulders, he felt a pit form in his stomach.

You made no effort to push Gally away, he was drunk and definitely not a threat. You weren't even talking to him; you were talking to Newt, who kept giving you gesturing looks, silently asking if you wanted him to deal with Gally. The Builder had originally done it as a flirty gesture but had seemingly forgot that he'd even done it in the first place.

For Minho, however, it was the straw that broke the camels back. Newt? Sure, whatever. He could get it - he liked Newt as much as anyone would, he was his best-friend after all. But Gally? Seriously?

He was on his feet before he'd even processed what he was doing himself, marching over to you. Gally said something, gaining your attention, which is why it startled you when Minho grabbed your wrist. You turned, prepared to rip your hand away only to soften when you realised who it was.

"Hey, can I talk to you?"

You blinked at him. Minho was hard to read and his ever-changing personality and treatment of you had you lost most days. You glanced at Newt, who seemed equally stunned at Minho's sudden confidence.

"Yeah, course, what's up?" He simply nodded in a different direction, gesturing for you to both leave to have a private conversation. You pushed Gally's arm away from you, thoughtlessly following Minho as he dragged you away.

He let go once you'd left the buzzing crowd of the Bonfire and you silently followed him to the edge of the Deadheads. He stopped near one of the closest trees and turned to face you.

"Is everything... okay?" You felt nervous, fiddling with the hem of your jacket, something Minho noticed.

"Uh, yeah," he took a deep breath, collecting himself. He didn't know what he was doing but, low and behold, he was doing it.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Right, yeah," he cleared his throat, "okay, this is gonna sound shuckin' weird but I've just gotta say it, okay?"

"Okay." You tried to stay calm, but you could feel the bubble of stress starting to form. Did he know? Had Newt spilled the beans? Was he about to reject your silent desires?

"So, I, uh, I think I know you," you once again blinked at him and he shuffled awkwardly, "I don't know how to describe it - I just do. Ever since you first came up in the Box, I just- I just wanted to be around you."

"I thought you were avoiding me?"

"Well I was, kinda, I didn't want to get distracted from running- and then there was the dreams and I didn't know how I'd even talk to you and-" Minho had started rambling pretty quick. All his stress from the past few months starting to pour out.

"Dreams?" Minho froze. How exactly was he going to explain that bit? Why the shuck did he mention it to begin with?

"Uh, yeah, I don't wanna- I mean I didn't mean to- you're just so- shuck!" He exclaimed, his face growing redder by the second, "I'm bad at this. I don't know why I brought that up."

"I'm not gonna judge you, dude," you reassured him. "I understand brain klunk and it's weird. Dreams are normal."

"Yeah, but not these ones," he sighed, pausing to gain some courage, "I've been having these dreams, about us, uh... doing.. things."

"Huh?" You tilted your head. Then it clicked, and it was now your turn to get flustered. "Oh! Oh. Oh, right."

"Yeah," he scratched the back of his neck, refusing to make eye contact. "I don't know what it is, but I like you. Like, I really like you. And I know that's weird because we've only been friends for a couple of weeks but I can't help it. I don't want to think of these things but I can't help it and it's starting to cause a problem." He finally looked at you for a second. His rambling caused him to repeat himself as he stopped thinking about what he was saying before he said it.

Your expression was blank as you tried to process everything he was saying. He seemed genuine, and genuinely embarrassed about the whole thing.

"Sorry," his eyes fell to the floor, "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable and you can shut me down and we can just be friends- I don't care about that as long as we're fine. But watching Gally hang off you, and the new Greenies look at you. And the way you and Newt flirt all the time- it just, shit, it just makes me mad, dude. I can't take it, watching everyone want you when I want you too. I mean-"

"Minho-"

"It's driving me mad. Everything you do is stuck in my head-"

"Minho-" you stepped forward, though he's too in his own head to even notice.

"I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore. And Alby was saying all this klunk and-"

You cut him off. Lifting his chin to look at you, you pressed your lips to his. He froze, completely. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

"Shut up, Slinthead," you mumbled, pulling away slightly, basically saying it into his mouth, "I know you too. I want you too."

That was enough for Minho. He pushed his lips against yours. It was sudden and bold as he pushed against you. Your bodies moulded together as your arms went around the back of his neck, your fingers brushing the short hairs at the base of his head. His hands went to your waist under your jacket, pulling you impossibly closer.

The kiss quickly becomes passionate and heated, his fingers brushing against your skin under your shirt, padding against your flesh. You hummed in response, just pushing him further as he span you around. Backing you up against a tree, your back hit the bark, earning a squeak.

He broke the kiss and the way he looked at you made your knees weak. He gaze was full of a mix of lust and want, but also was loving and cautious. He didn't want to over step, but he was desperate. The frustrations were finally coming to the surface and he knew he had to stop himself.

"I can't..." He panted, "I can't do this anymore. I need you."

He was making you weak. It wasn't like you'd never been aroused before but this was different. You couldn't even form words as you connected back to him. A guttural, deep noise escaped his throat.

Things were moving fast as your hands left his neck, dipping lower and and under his shirt. Feeling his skin and his solid mid-drift. You grazed your nails against his skin and his teeth lightly brushed your bottom lip.

This wasn't the plan. But at the rate things were moving, you didn't want to stop it either.

"Holy shuck!" Newt exclaimed, dramatically throwing his hand over his eyes, scared to witness anything else unsightly.

You and Minho stopped, snapping to look at your embarrassed friend. Minho stepped back, awkwardly crossing his hands over his crotch as you tried to catch your breath.

Newt awkwardly peaked through his fingers before sighing from relief and lowering his hand.

"Uh, the Runners wanna talk to you about Maps or some klunk - Alby wants an update on how it's going."

Minho cleared his throat, "Right, yeah. I'll uh- yeah." He looked at you, "I'll uh, I'll catch you later, right?"

"Mhm."

"Cool." He brushed past Newt, not daring to make eye-contact, knowing he'd hear all about it later anyway.

Newt looked at you, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

"You finally spoke to him then?"

"Shut your shucking mouth, Slinthead."

Woah, Petri actually writing a piece of fanfiction? Mad. Anyway, here is my first actual writing piece on here and I know the TMR fandom is kinda dead, but I love Minho with my whole heart and he's probably one of my favourite all time characters, so I figured this would be a good place to start.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think. :))

#🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri tmr minho #🌿 petri writes tmr #🍃 petri tmr #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #x reader #minho tmr x reader

[alotofpockets]

From the sidelines | Leila Ouahabi x Reader & Jill Roord x Platonic!Reader

Where Leila gets injured, and you have to watch from the sidelines.

This one is for you @sleekswosobession happy birthday!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

-----

You found your seat amongst the crowd at Etihad Stadium, it wasn’t long after you sat down that you saw Jill Roord heading your way. “Hey Jill, how are you doing?” Since she had done her ACL she watched her team play from the stands, you hated that she was injured, but you loved the company. “I’m hanging in there, wish I could be on the field, you know?” You nod, though you had no personal experience, you could imagine how hard it was for her to not be able to play. “Anyways, how are you? Still enjoying WAG life?” The term made you laugh, “I’m doing well, and WAG life is great as always.” 

The two of you talked until warm-ups started. Leila looked into the crowd, always eager to find you as soon as she could. Once she did she waved at you with the biggest smile on her face, you waved back and didn't let your eyes leave your girlfriend as the team started their warming up. “The only good thing about missing out on playing is watching how disgustingly in love the two of you are.” Jill jokes, earning herself a friendly shove. “Missing Jana I see.” You throw back at her, making the girl sigh, “Yeah I do.”

Forty minutes into the game, and it was dead equal. Possession, shots on goal, and shots on target, both teams were performing at a high level on all parts of the field. You watched as Leila intercepted the ball between two of the opposing players, and started running up the field with it. She passed a few players already, and was looking to give the assist to Jess or Chloe. Before she could even decide to which one of the forwards she was going to pass the ball, she plummeted to ground reaching for her ankle instantly.

You watched in fear as you saw the hard tackle that was made on your girlfriend. Standing with your hand over your mouth as she reached for her ankle, and wasn’t getting up. Jess was signaling for the medics before the referee even made it to Leila. “Please tell me my mind is tricking, and it’s not as bad as it looks.” Jill puts her hand on your shoulder, “I wish I could.” The way Leila’s face contorted each time the medics touched her ankle said enough for the level of pain she was in.

The crowd went silent as a stretcher was brought onto the field, and Leila was given a green whistle to ease the pain. “Come on, follow me.” You followed Jill down the stands, where she managed to get the both of you on the sidelines of the pitch. Jill knew from her injury that she wanted nothing more than for Jana to be by her side, so she wanted Leila to have that opportunity. You watched from the sidelines as your girlfriend was helped onto the stretcher and carried in your direction. “Go, she’ll need you in there.” Jill urged you to follow the stretcher. You stepped in line with them and reached for your girlfriend’s hand, “I’m here baby.”

You sat with Leila as the medical team checked out her ankle. “I think you have broken something in your ankle, but you’re going to need to go to the hospital to get an x-ray to make sure. Go as soon as you can, so we can treat it best.” He was talking to Leila, but she was a bit out of it from the green whistle, so you take in the information and answer him. “I can take her right now.”

Since Leila was a bit loopy from the green whistle, you accepted Jill's offer to go to the hospital with you. The two of them sat in the back, as you drove. “Jill,” Your girlfriend started, “did you know that I have the most beautiful girlfriend?” You blush at the comment. Jill smirks, and pulls out her phone. “What did you say?” She films your girlfriend's loopy confessions. “My girlfriend is the most beautiful girl in the whole world. She's so pretty, and so smart. Jill, she is really amazing. I love her so much.” Jill pans the camera to your blushing state in the mirror, before pocketing her phone again.

At the hospital you're helped quickly because the medical team called ahead. They took Leila to get some x-rays, while you nervously waited in the room for the results. They brought your girlfriend back before they had the results ready, saying that the doctor would be with you shortly. The effects of the green whistle were starting to wear off, and Leila was seemingly in more pain. You reach for her hand, “It's okay, the doctor will prescribe something in a bit.” 

The doctor came back with the results of the x-rays. The bad news was that her ankle was definitely broken. The good news, she wasn't going to need surgery. With a boot and a pair of crutches she was sent on her way. The doctor would contact the medical team with a course of treatment. After picking up the prescribed medication, you headed back to the car.

You dropped Jill off at her place and thanked her for all her help, before you made your way to your place. Leila quickly got the hang of the crutches, as you walked her to the front door. Once she was settled on the couch, you made a trip back to the car to grab your bags. “Are you hungry, love?” She might not have played the full match, but she still used up a lot of her energy. “Yeah, but can we order in? I really want some cuddles right now.” You smile at her grabby hands and make your way over to the couch. “That sounds like a great plan.”

With the delivery order placed, Leila cuddles into your side. “Did they win?” Her passion for the team was always present. “Yes, they did. 2-0.” You always had match notifications on for her team, so when you were in the hospital, you had seen the final score. 

“Oh, also Jill sent something to the group chat that you might want to check out.” She watched herself simp over you with a smile on her face. “Even drugged up me knows what's important.” She pecks your lips. “I love you baby, thank you for being here for me.” 

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#leila ouahabi #leila ouahabi x reader #leila ouahabi imagine #manchester city women #man city women #man city wfc #manchester city wfc x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #jill roord #jill roord x reader #jill roord imagine

[simp999]

I saw you wanted medic request so i have one. Could you write about a reader who can communicate and understand Archimedes, and the two love to gossip together. But when asked, they act like they have no idea what your talking about, but they specifically love talking about medic since they know the most about him. So the reader learns all these stupid little things about him that they find adorable, much to medics dismay, when they find out all his secrets. But ofc they keep it to themselves <3

Medic x Reader who understands his birds

Wc: 320

Theme: Fluff

Type of fic: Headcannons + Drabble

Masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

♡Lots of gossiping, of course

♡Medic being suspicious as to how you’re getting all this information

♡Him also being suspicious as to how you always seem to know what his birds want

♡ALSO being suspicious about how affectionate they are with you and how you always seem to have Archimedes on your shoulder ever since you moved into the base as a merc

♡You taking care of his birds while he’s gone

♡Him fully trusting you <3

♡He was nervous at first when he decided to start spending time with you off the battlefield because he’d already grown to like you, but if his birds didn’t then that simply wouldn’t work between you two. His bird need to like his S/O

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hun, you snort when you laugh?”

“What? No- what makes you think that? Have I?‘

“Ah, no reason.”

He hung up his labcoat on the back of his chair as he eyed you suspiciously.

“...Sometimes.”

You stifled a giggle at his response, side-eyeing the dove on your shoulder. 

“Are you shy about it, darling?”

“No!...no…”

He reluctantly mumbled a small yes under his breath, making you laugh a bit harder. He was too cute. 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, my dear.‘

“How did you know?”

“Ah, just curious, Love.”

Medic grabbed his vest as he headed out for the next battle, offering you a questioning glance before leaving.

“Got any other secrets for me?”

Archimedes jumped onto your finger as you held it out, your other arm crossed. You leaned in closer as f you two were gossiping.

“Oh, he has moles and birthmarks across his back? Well that one I was sure to find out with time!~”

Archimedes gently pecks at you as if he was some kid poking fun at his parents for kissing in from of him. 

“Okay okay, sorry, sweet thing. Would you like another treat?”

.

.

.

Apr.7.24

#tf2 x reader #medic x reader #medic x reader tf2 #team fortress 2 medic #tf2 medic #tf2 medic x you #team fortress 2 #fanfic #x reader

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I have these two great friends called Birth and Control.❞

part 06 | it's called a love bug, lovebug

chapter summary:

[ Sunday dinners are actually made for confessions. As Alicent braves it with a wine and a blush, you brave it too. With a boy and a view. ]

[ 2,963 ] [ series masterlist ] |best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— angst - hurt/minimal comfort(?) - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— alexa play it's all coming back to me now by celine dion. it might read a little stilted, i struggled a bit with this chapter as i wrote it in different times. ps. i didn't translate aemond's valyrian with intention. hope it still works? comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You had never heard of a more reverbrating sound than Helaena's smack to a poor, traumatised Daeron. "You toe licking, armpit looking, ugly garbage can!" Healeana shrieked, promptly dragging her youngest brother further away as you and Aemond scurried deeper into the safety of the darkness and shame, folded defensively onto one another, laughing your asses off.

"Oh my god," you exhale. "I am never going leaving this maze. I am going to live here, eating brambles and shit, and die here. Leave me now and prevail, Aemond. I will be fine. I'll haunt you in two to three business days."

Aemond chuckles from below you, unseen from your gaze, the mesmerised adoration he held as he can still feel his lips tingling from your desperation, still feel the curves of your body, the soft skin— he clears his throat, holding you steady by your hips before moving around until he's hovering over you as you adjusted your dress, eyes fluttering his with pressed lips trying not to laugh.

"I have a feeling dinner is ready."

"I also have a feeling your mother and grandfather knew exactly what we were doing minutes before and I fear I'd rather die here than face that."

He laughs, offering his hand and you take it regardless. "Then my mother would be glad. She didn't exactly feel the new bliss of couples between us."

You scoff. "Only because you treated me like you were cosplaying a Frost Giant." At his raised eyebrow and choked, surprised laugh, you blush. "Oh, get off with it. Your sister really likes the idea of Jotun!Loki and I am not one to kinkshame."

He strangles a laugh, peeling stray twigs from your hair. "I wouldn't dare assume. Let's go eat."

You tighten your hold on his hand, worry crescent on your forehead that Aemond straightens. "And talk?" As good as that felt, as perfect as puzzles sliding in together, you were past the age where burrowing it deep with the good parts and ignoring the pressing talks that need to be addressed.

And Aemond deserved better than that at least.

"Okay." He nods, swallowing. "Later, please."

"Okay." You try and reassure him with a smile and that seems to appease him, if a little.

Once Aegon had made five jokes concerning Daeron's loud rant— he was promptly shut up by his sister smacking him in the back of the head as soon as their mother was fretting in the kitchen and their grandfather's phone pinging for his attention, spoon on his mouth that might have been a medical nightmare — dinner went smoothly.

Daeron had successfully refused to look at your general direction, or his brother, or both since you sat together, churlish in giggles, in chatter and light arguments. Aemond kept taking the nicely marinated baby potatoes on his plate to yours once you finished up your own, and exchanged it with shuffling green beans to his plate because he loves them— it's nice.

It's more than nice. It's everything you could hope for when you think about dinner with your boyfriend's family. It's a softened thought that brews to yearning. You want this. You want be sat next to Aemond like this again, making jokes, piling food onto each other's plate, ribbing with his brother until he blushed then standing up against him when it got too far— seeing the smile he sends your way, endearing, loving, and for a moment, for this one realised moment built on lies and chuckle-fuckery ease, you let yourself indulge.

You joke about spoon feeding him dessert and blush as he envelops his soft lips over the spoon, Daeron and Aegon mimicking gags while Alicent is blushing, unable to stop a girlish giggle, a sound so surprised to her own person that she hiccups.

You are with him and you give yourself strength to break his heart.

Dinner finishes off with a lazy flick, Alicent and his father descending into business talks that usually included Aemond and though you tell him you can go hang out with Helaena— Daeron and Aegon deciding on playing The Last of Us in the game room because Aegon said he needed a good cry but also to shoot things — Aemond who had taken your hand sometime ago and has been brushing his thumb over your knuckles in a soothing gesture, implores you with a look.

You swallow and give a nod, trying for another smile that fails, noticing the moment Aemond sees it fail, his brow curling, lips pursing but doesn't say anything.

As he moves to lead, he pauses, turning back to you. "Where—?"

"Your room?"

Just as he nods, Alicent's soft and embarrassed, "Keep the door open, please," pulls you both to a blushing stop.

Otto— and Helaena rifling through ice cream in the kitchen — crow simultaneous, "Alicent," and "Mom!" as Alicent raises both her hands, the wine in her right sloshing. Though she is pink-cheeked, she maintains eye contact with her son while Aemond is struggling.

"I know you're old and smart enough, young man, and you are such a lovely girl," Alicent says to you, "and I would no doubt adore the grandchildren you will provide me—"

"Oh my gods," you stifle your giggles as Aemond makes a discordant sound in the back of his throat, like a cat hacking a saw. Otto is laughing into his wine while Helaena is making gagging noises in the background.

"— but I hope to have them when Aemond's at least graduated, so that he can provide well for you." Alicent nods, blinking. You can tell that the wine is catching up to her. "He's a good boy so I'm sure he'll do right by you. But I at least want you both to be married, of course, I would prefer if Aegon or Helaena got married first but—"

"— and that's my cue to stage left, folks," Helaena says, making a face as she grabs the entire tub of cookies and cream. "If anyone needs me, I'm in my room trying to find a husband so my baby brother can get married, gods forbid he carries on with bastards from his beautiful girlfriend— whomst, by the way, is my best friend, dunno how we're forgetting my credit in all of this."

Aemond shakes his head. "They're not sleeping here, mom, and providing you grandchildren is not in my agenda." He tugs your hand, smirking as he pulls you close only to whisper playfully, "Not tonight at least."

You shiver, laughing under your breath. "I dunno if you know this, but I have these two great friends called Birth and Control."

He breaks into a laugh and that, at least, eases the tension until you round up in his room, trying to give Helaena a meaningful look but you don't think she understands it with how she salutes you with her spoon, winking audaciously.

"Here." Aemond flicks the light on and his childhood bedroom brings a smile to your face. It's cerebral, the faint blue of his textured wallpaper, the perfectly lined books, even the framed achievements. But there's also the Oasis poster, the little figurines that you know is part of some Old Valyrian battle replica he collected when he was younger, even his old fencing gear and an exact photo of it alongside his club master, his grandfather, and family friend, Criston Cole.

"It's been a while since I've been here," you tease lightly. "It's kind of funny of your mom to think I'd be the first hot girl to christen your childhood bed."

He hums, turning away as he closes the door. When he turns back, he's rolled back his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks at you with sincerity.

"It wouldn't be much of a competition to beat. You were the first hot girl I'd ever got inside my room."

"Ahh. Right. Teasing you before your growth spurt was the highlight of my week."

Aemond let out an aggressive sigh as you laugh. "I was a senior in high school when I met you, riña, this is getting ridiculous. Borderline paedophilic since I had you moaning an hour ago."

You heave, slapping his arm. "Okay, stop, you made it weird now. Gross. Eugh."

"Promise you'll stop now?"

"Fine, I promise."

An awkwardness settles before Aemond nods at the double French doors. "Wanna talk on the patio? You've always liked my room's view than Lae's."

"Yeah," you grin.  "'Cos you got the only view of the lake."

"You can barely see it with the trees. And this darkness." Reason out all he wants, but he opens the door for you, and the cool air is crisp and nice against your warm skin.

You hold out on the ledge, squinting your eyes so you can see peeks of luminous bounce of the calm lake between dark sways of forest. Once in a while, it glitters and glimmers, making itself known.

"It isn't fully true though."

"What is?" Aemond fixes his elbows, warmth pressed against yours as he stares at a fixed point of nowhere. But you can feel his tension, feel his questions he's trying to be patient to keep in. You're glad for it. Grateful. Because it gives you enough courage to confess.

"I hung out in your room because I liked hanging out with you," you admit. "Teasing you was the highlight of my day."

"Gee. Thanks."

"I was more surprised you kept letting me hang out with you when I did nothing but annoy you."

"Why do you think that is, ñuha riña?" he asks softly.

"Because you're sweet?"

The way he's looking at you... it makes you breatheless. Especially when he moves to turn fully toward you, taking you by your elbows, and you close your eyes when he leans in expecting his mouth on you, your heart dancing in the palm of his hand because it feels so, so easy to trust Aemond with it, instead he presses his lips underneath your eye, nuzzling against your nose. It shatters and remakes your heart, making you hold onto his shirt for some semblance of comfort.

"Because I've always liked you," he whispers against your skin as if it's his best kept secret. "Because I'm weak when it comes to you. Because you," he breathes against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a tug, "make it easy to want you."

A weak laugh escapes your lips and his mouth follows the sound as if he wants to swallow it, but you press a palm to his chest. He growls.

"Easy there, tiger, that didn't sound much like a compliment."

He pulls back, holding your face. "Sorry, shit, I didn't mean— I'm not good at this. I meant... you're unattainable. Not just as Helaena's best friend but... you're cool, you're fucking gorgeous and incredibly hilarious."

"Ñuha jorrāelagon." He breathes care into the word. The word is lost on me and I force my brain to pocket it like a love letter so I can search it up. "I never thought I could be here, touching you like this." Without warning, he moulds his lips to yours in a harsh, deep kiss. It's quick but it leaves you breathless, his voice coming up ragged. "Kiss you like this. It feels like I'm in a dream and I'm struggling to let go of it. So a while ago... after..."

You nod, pressing your forehead against his, unable to look at him in the eye. You focus on touching him, your hands sliding down, making him shiver when you go underneath his shirt, skating his side until you warm your cool fingers with his spine.

"That's the thing, Aemy," you whisper. "In your head, by your words, I'm always a version to you."

 He calls your name, leaning back and you're forced to see the confusion on his face.

"Helaena's best friend. Past that, an unattainable crush. Now a fake girlfriend. Someone you use to get Alys' attention, and who better than the unattainable crush? It's a pedestal, Aemy."

"It's not like that, that was a bad, convoluted—"

"But it's the truth, it's how I feel. And though that sucks, I understand." You take his hands as you step back and he's frowning harder, the lines deepen and his jaw is tight. "I knew what I was getting into, you know? But things change because I've changed."

 "It's Cregan, isn't it?" he snarls, tugging his hands away.

"Oh, you jealous idiot, it's you! We've gone over this, you incredible dumbass!"

"Me? How the hell is this about—"

"— because I love you!" you shout. Then stop, inhale. Blink. Aemond copies it. It's almost hilarious. "Or I know I can be."

He works his jaw, turning away. "I don't understand."

"Okay, here it is." You inhale. "Just listen and breathe for a second, okay? Okay? Don't turn away from me." You pull him back by his chin, smiling faintly at the pout you form. "Say you understand."

He sighs, taking your hand. "Yes, I understand."

"I can't compete with someone you've loved for so long," you start softly, staring at your conjoined hands wondering if this is the last time you'll get to hold him like this. "Without you showing you can love me for more than that. I can't compete with your own ideal happy ending if I'm not part of it. I won't. I refuse." Your smile is wry, it's heartbreak and it's strings. You wish you had the energy to scream, to act like a brat and demand his heart, his promises in gold-ink and pink-veined hue. It's what your heart wants.

But you're of big age. You've seen love in its spaces, how it takes root in people, how it affects the world around you.

And you know you cannot love him if he does not make the effort to love you in the same way.

Your heart is in your throat but the words come out anyway. "Because I love you, Aemy. And I know I can fight for you. I can fight for what we have. I can wake up tomorrow and choose to love you with the same degree, if not fiercer, if I could. And I could do that again and again. That's how love works. You have to wake up tomorrow, see me, and choose to love me all over again."

You smile gently, sadly. "I can't allow myself to be loved in halves. I've done that before, I'm not doing it again. Not even for you."

You bring yourself on your tip toes— damn tall, beautiful rat bastard — and brush your lips on the corner of his. His eye closed. "I'm not going to pressure you for an answer. Alys was... Alys is a big part of what you know is love, and I respect that. I understand that it'll be hard, but I need to know if you're willing to let go of it for me. Because I can promise you I can love you. But I won't. Not without assurance that you can try for me."

"What are you asking me?" he asks softly, straightening. There's a hard line going into his body, like a dutiful student given an assignment.

"I'm asking you to think if you can see past the little statue you've made of me. See me breathing. Alive, just like this." You press a hand to his face and retrieve it back before he can hold it. He shots you a look of betrayal. "I'm going home with Hel. You know how to message me, okay? Bye, dōna zaldrīzes."sweet dragon.

His eye flick upward, shock and heartbreak and confusion moulds and twists into such a beautiful blue, mouth agape trying to find words he can't find— and you smile wryly, turning away and leaving.

You get to Helaena's door quick, knocking soon after.

"Hmph!"

 "You're either getting choked by a robber or masturbating, and really Hel, I need you to make two grunts to tell me the former so I can bust down the door because I don't want to see you bust a—"

The door swings wide, Helaena's face in a comical irritation.

"That is so fucked up, I hope you know— hey, hey." Her irritation sweeps into a frown as you fail to contain your watery eyes. "What happened? What's wrong? What did Aemond do? Oh, that little twerp—"

"— it's not him, it's not him, chill, I just wanna go home, yeah? Get our cakes and go, please?"

Hel's frown deepens, eyes darting back to Aemond's door.

"Please, Helaena," you beg. "I'll tell you when we get home. I'll make us special drinks."

She takes your hand, determination wound tight with concern. "Sure thing, babe. Let's go."

When you make your hasty departure to her grandfather of all of them, Alicent already in bed and the other boys still in the gaming room, cakes in hand, you tow over Helaena's baby blue buggy— she leans over at you with a hand on the ignition, whispering as if she was afraid, "You— are you meeting Cregan tonight? After, I mean." Her eyes widen. "I'm not judging, I'd never—"

"No, no, I understand. You'd never judge me for that, I know. But no. Just you and me tonight."

She smiles softly. It's not like Aemond's but they don't look that apart that it still stings. "Love you."

"Love you too, lovebug."

Loving Helaena isn't hard.

Just as you know loving Aemond wouldn't be, despite it all. But it isn't you that has issues that needs handling, and you've put everything in his court now.

And yet you can't deny your hope.

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdgodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantastyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin @backyardfolklore @random-ocity @hc-geralt-23 @vendettasblog @cicaspair418 @malynn @anehkael @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm @honey132

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond angst #aemond fluff #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒 #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓬 [Main Work]

You're supposed to keep him in check and integrate him into earth's society while he recovers from the aftereffects of catching a viral infection on his planet. All that, while you get to earn a pretty good monthly compensation for your efforts from the government of his and your planet.

Or more simplified: You're a paid babysitter for a 7' tall alien who's caught a virus that makes him act purely on instincts, rather than logic. Oh yeah- and he tried to eat your neighbor's pet bird. Yeah...

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Yes I'm writing that story..., mentions of doctors visits (needles, injections, medical terms, blood), mild Angst, so much chaos, he almost eats a bird once oops, mild Angst, strangers to lovers, more TBA

Length: 4k words

A/N: THERE IS NO TAGLIST. THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS. THERE REALLY ISNT. DO NOT ASK.

-> Masterlist

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"Are you sure that's a good Idea?" Jimin asks, and you shrug, dipping your piece of bread in the sauce.

"Yeah, why not?" You say. "They're not dangerous or anything. I've met Yoongi, and he's cool. Can live alone, even!" You tell your best friend across from you, who doesn't seem convinced.

"Yoongi is different though. He's, like, recovered already." Jimin says. "You'll be getting one straight out of quarantine. I'm sorry but, are you sure you can handle that?" He worries, and you roll your eyes.

"Jimin you're acting as if he's gonna try and murder me in my sleep." You scoff, denying any of his worries. "I went to all the lessons and readings and educational stuff- I wouldn't have gotten approved if I didn't. So calm down, I got this." You chuckle.

Jimin simply shrugging, well aware he can't change your mind.

"Jungkook, no, come on." The careworker who's nametag reads 'Kim Namjoon' gently says, holding the hand of who you assume must be Jeon Jungkook-

26-year-old Vrota, straight out of quarantine, having been brought to earth for treatment earlier this year. He likes sports, has a pretty big appetite, and dislikes being left alone for too long. He used to work as a physical health coach before catching the virus on Vilia, and stayed in self-isolation for about half a year before being sent to earth to be treated in quarantine for the most severe portion of his sickness.

Now, he's deemed healthy enough to stay with a human 'caretaker'- or babysitter, how you'd call it. And to be honest, you didn't really think much about taking care of a Vrota at first, having met one by the name of Min Yoongi during your earlier days at the education center for Vilian people- and he was a pretty cool guy.

What you didn't take into thought was apparently that Vrota can look very different just like humans. So yeah.. the guy standing in front of you right now with his big brown cat-eyes and colorful tattoos isn't really comparable to the chill, rather laid back Yoongi you had met.

No.

Fuck no.

Walking into your home is a at least 7-foot tall young man of your age, simply black shirt stretching over the muscles of his biceps, jeans seeming to barely contain his thigh muscles. Jesus christ.

Maybe Jimin was right in his worries that you might end up dead at the end of this.

"So, Jungkook here doesn't have any allergies, so you don't have to worry about that. He's overall low maintenance, sleeps a lot, but when he's awake you might want to start taking him out a bit, since he get's a bit restless if he's got nothing to occupy himself with." Namjoon explains, giving you all the necessary papers in an envelops, while Jungkook walks around to explore your apartment. "Also, don't be intimidated by him. He's gone through multiple rounds of behavioral analysis, and has been deemed no threat whatsoever." He offers when he notices you watch the way the young man walks around, looking at pictures on your wall.

"So like, I guess he has to put that on when we go out?" You wonder, pointing at the simple black collar with a GPS tracking device on it.

"Yes, please. And also, keep a hold of his hand, just so he doesn't get lost." Namjoon chuckles.

"Sorry, but I don't think me holding him by his hand is gonna do much." You joke, making Namjoon chuckle.

"Ah, no-" He agrees. "-it's not to physically keep him with you. It just reassures him, in a way. He enjoys physical contact a lot." he explains.

"So- does he talk?" You wonder, watching how Jungkook looks out the windows, cat eyes jumping around at the nature and scenery outside.

"Sometimes, but barely. He understands speech fluently though. It'll take some time for him to come out of his shell, but once he's comfortable, he'll talk. The virus didn't injure his brain whatsoever, so he's expected to make a full recovery by the end of this year." Namjoon informs you, and you nod. "His scheduled appointments are in there, his current doctors are marked down as well. If you can't take him to one of those appointments, please call in advance, alright? Otherwise they'll immediately try and pick him up themselves, and that's gonna be a lot of paperwork on your side, and a lot of unnecessary stress on his." He explains further, and you nod.

"So, basically- cook him food, make sure he doesn't go missing, and take him to his doctors. Got it." You nod, making Namjoon chuckle.

"Pretty much. Like I said, he's rather low maintenance. You can occupy him with video games or movies as well- and when it comes to food, he's not picky. Doesn't like sour snacks though." He laughs, and you nod.

"No sour stuff, got it." You nod, and at that, Namjoon claps his hands together.

"Alright kook, I'm gonna leave you here then." He says, making the man in question walk closer again, nodding. "Do you like it here?" He wonders, and Jungkook shrugs, looking around-

before he nods, looking at you.

"Alright. His clothes and everything has arrived, right?" Namjoon asks, and you nod.

"All in his room." You say, making Namjoon nod.

"Don't cause too much trouble, alright?" He tells Jungkook, who nods a bit deflated, visibly a bit upset he's gonna leave now. But he doesn't show it too much, waves Namjoon goodbye until the door closes, leaving him alone with you.

"Your room is here-" You say, leading him to a small guest room where he spots his suitcases on the bed. "I didn't unpack them, cause.. privacy and stuff. So you can do that while I make something to eat?" You ask, and he nods, walking past you- and only now do you realize just how much taller he really is than you.

Jesus christ.

You break away your eyes from the sight of his broad back to instead run into your kitchen, putting away the papers and starting to cook instead to both calm yourself down- and make sure Jungkook feels comfortable too.

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It's been a few weeks- and thinks have definitely settled quite well.

You're currently sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office- waiting to be called in, as Jungkook keeps rubbing his ear. "No, don't." You quietly scold him with a soft tone, carefully pulling his hand down by his biceps, causing him to whine under his breath in complaint.

He's been having some issues with it recently- an underlying problem that had been overlooked due to more pressing issues. An elderly woman with a young looking Vrota girl smiles at you from where she sits across, watching rather fondly how you hold Jungkook's hand in yours. Namjoon had been right- it works wonders in reassuring the young man.

And it also kept him close at your side.

"Jeon Jungkook?" Is called by a nurse, and you follow her into one of the examination rooms, where Jungkook sits down on the bed, while you took a seat close by on a chair. It's routine to you both by now, after all. "Ah, there. Hello!" The doctor offers, bowing politely before he sits down across from you behind his table. "So- apparently he's got some trouble with his ear?" He wonders, and you nod.

"He's been pretty frustrated with it for some days now. Keeps rubbing it, and he doesn't like it being touched either." You inform the man, who nods and writes some stuff down in his computer with the help of his keyboard.

"Hm yeah, that looks pretty sore." The man says as he inspects Jungkook's ear further, his tail whipping around as he tries to stay composed.

Unbeknownst to you, he only really does it to impress you.

As soon as the doctor is done, Jungkook get's up to walk closer to where you sit, hand curiously playing with the shoulder strap of your top while the doctor explains what medication Jungkook will have to take. Touches like this aren't unusual- Namjoon had been right, after all. The Vrota standing next to you is very touchy, enjoying you close and seemingly seeking you whenever he can. From sitting on the couch so closely next to each other that your legs are touching, to snoozing during a nap with his full upper body on your thighs.

It's what happens later when you're back home, as you're scrolling around on your phone, while he purrs in his sleep on your thighs. He's full on hugging your middle, arms around you keeping you close while the tip of his tail moves a little as he dreams. He really is currently like a big cat in a humanoid body- and you wonder if it's still the aftereffects of his virus, or if he's always like this in general.

Almost as if on pure instinct, one of your hands falls into his slightly curly hair, nails running over his scalp, and at that, his almost unnoticeable purr turns into vibrant rumbling in his chest. His arms wrap a bit tighter around your body as he adjusts his position, a soft smile on his face as he buries his nose in the front of your t-shirt. In this moment, you have to think about Jimin, and his big worries.

What a load of bullshit, you think to yourself, as you watch the happy cat-boy-alien snuggle just a little closer to you.

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Scratch that. Scratch all of that. This young man is a menace, and you'll surely go to jail for not looking after him by the end of this entire situation.

"Jungkook…" You say, at a stand-off with the big cat-like alien across from you who stares you down with his stupidly cute big round eyes as if he's not doing anything wrong. "Where is pudgy?" You ask, and at that he fully turns around, squirming bird in his hand. "Jungkook, no, no no no-!" You dramatically call out, hands reaching for him- when he looks at the bird, then at you. "Give him to me, yeah?" you try, and he seems completely taken aback for a moment, and almost- shy?

Unbeknownst to you, he thinks you want the bird for something entirely different. In his mind, you're not asking for the bird itself- you're asking for him to offer it for you.

You want him to… court you?

He seems to deeply think for a good moment as he watches the bird breathe heavily, it's life probably flashing before it's very eyes before Jungkook brightly grins, sharp canine teeth making his happy grin look more dangerous than it probably is.

You don't know why he's suddenly so chipper, tail held high and eyes sparkling.

Suddenly, he holds the bird out to you like he's offering it rather than returning it- and you carefully take the poor thing from his rough hold, accepting it. It's something that makes the tip of his tail snap upwards in excitement, eyes scanning you for every reaction as you walk back.

"I'll be… right back.." You carefully tell Jungkook, who shrugs. "Do not do anything while I'm gone." You warn, before you dash out the front door to return the pet yet again, violently knocking on your neighbor's door.

"What?!" Seokjin yells almost, when you hold out his bird to him. "Pudgy!"

"Yeah, fuck your bird Jin!" You yell at the young man. "Jungkook almost fucking ate him, keep the thing in his cage for god's sake! Do you know how much trouble I would've been in if he actually ate him? I'm not ensured for accidental pet-ingestion!" You complain, making the man laugh a little.

"I'll keep the windows closed from now on." He reassures you, and you nod, pinching the bridge of your nose as you make your way back downstairs into your apartment-

where a not so happy Jungkook waits, arms crossed and tail whipping angrily from side to side behind him, knocking down some papers on the kitchen table. He's clearly unhappy, growling a little with every breath, eyes sharp and glaring at you dangerously.

"What happened?" You wonder, and Jungkook himself wants to just yell at you.

You're so stupid, he thinks to himself.

Why would you insult him like that? He caught that bird, and you wanted it- so he offered it, thinking you finally understood his intentions at this point- but no. Instead you insult him by giving HIS offering to that stupid human man upstairs, as if to mock him!

Do you want something more impressive? Maybe a tiny bird isn't enough to win you over. But on earth, there's not much prey to hunt- and considering he's a little bound to the interior of your apartment, he doesn't have any other options, really. And even if he was to catch something better- like the deer he'd almost caught if it wasn't for you scolding him for it- you still don't seem to like that at all. He doesn't know what else he could do to impress you.

What the hell do human woman want?!

Maybe he just really chose to court the most stupid and ungrateful human he could find- but he'll make sure you understand his intentions soon enough, and he'll teach you proper manners as well, once he's better. Right now, he's still unable to really do much in his state- but once he recovers a little more, he'll make sure.

He'll make sure you know exactly what he wants from you.

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It's been a few months, and Jungkook has started to find his voice again, it seems like.

He hums a lot when doing household tasks, sings to himself while he folds laundry, throws random half-sentences at you here and there whenever he feels like doing so. And all of that is fine and dandy- if it wasn't for that very specific nickname he's come up with for you. You try to tell yourself that he just doesn't know any better, that he's just overly friendly, that there's no way he'd be using it for those specific reasons. It doesn't help that he's horribly attractive, and nice, and, ugh.

This is getting more complicated than you hoped it would.

"Kitty!" He chirps, as he leans over the couch, and holds something out to you. You can't help but flinch a bit internally at the way he says that nickname. You're guessing it came from when he'd asked what those cat-plushies in your bed had been called, and you had answered Hello Kitty to him. He'd laughed, pointed at the toy, and then pointed at your cheeks, poking them.

Ever since then, you'd been stuck with that name in his head, it seems like.

You eat from his fingers as he puts the piece of meat on your tongue, an odd, focused gaze on the action found in his eyes as he licks his own lips the same way you do yours. "It's good!" You praise, and he grins brightly, eagerly running back into your kitchen to finish whatever he's cooking. He's been becoming a lot more independent- and it makes you a little sad, considering that once he's deemed healthy enough, he'll leave you behind, move back to his planet one day, and forget you even existed.

A little bit of a bummer, really. But at the same time, there's nothing you can do about it. You don't feel good about asking him out- because what if he feels obligated to say yes?

It's like he senses the slight shift in your mood, slowly walking back up to the couch again where you sit, sitting down next to you on the couch, knees digging into the soft cushions while he curiously watches you with a tilted head. "Huh?" You wonder, smiling- but he frowns, shakes his head.

"What?" He asks. "Sad?" He questions, and you shrug, shaking your head.

"No no, don't worry." You shake it off. "Are you done cooking? Turned everything off?" You ask him, and he nods, but doesn't let off from his question it seems. He opens his arms, makes a grabbing motion with his hands, and you laugh. "You want a hug?" You giggle, but he shakes his head.

"No, you." He argues gently, urging you once more. "You, hug. Sad." He explains, and you laugh.

"Jungkook, I'm not sad." You say, and suddenly, his hands flop down, a frustrated look on his face.

"Don't want?" He hufffs. "Hug me?" He complains, and you look at him with questioning eyes.

"I do wanna hug you, kook." You say, and he perks up at the nickname used. "Just- you don't have to do that just cause I'm like, not feeling happy." You explain to him. "I'm here to take care of you, after all, not the other way around." You laugh, and he watches you a bit more serious right now.

"Right." He suddenly says with a flat tone. "You.. hm, get paid." He says more or less to himself. "For me." He finishes his sentence, sitting properly on the couch now, feet on the floor, arms crossed.

"I mean.. yeah." You say, carefully. "You're gonna leave as soon as you're good to go, you know that." You say. "Would be kinda weird to start like, a friendship or stuff when your stay is limited down the line. I just wanna look out for you- and myself too. Save us the hurt later on." You shrug, and at that, a lightbulb seems to blink out of nowhere over his head, as he looks at you.

"So you? Like me?" He asks, and you stammer an answer.

"Uh, no- like, yeah as a guy you're pretty cool but like I said-" You scramble for an explanation, but he just crawls back on the couch, over you, until he's got you practically pinned down beneath him.

"You like.. me." He says, as if it's a fact- and yeah, it is one. But it shouldn't be. "I like you." He offers. "I.. tried, hm.. Im-pressive- impress you!" He seems to think hard to make his words make sense, brain still a bit slow most of the time when he tries to talk. It shows by the way he still stutters, gets stuck on syllables or by the way his brows scrunch together in thought. "But you- dumb!" He scolds, pointing at your head.

"What the fuck- I'm not dumb!" You complain, and he laughs, sharp canine teeth showing.

"Yes!" He argues, though he seems to not mean it badly. "Really dumb!" He continues.

"Well at least I don't try to eat the local animal population!" You argue.

"But- offer!" He argues, tail puffed up and swaying around. "I need.. to impress! Hunt!" He complains.

"For what?" You laugh.

"You!" He whines loudly. "Mate, make mate- impress mate! You, so you- argh!" He growls out, and you can't help but laugh.

"Jungkook." You softly say, and he looks at you with a face looking like you just told him he has to sleep on the balcony outside. "You don't have to do that, you know? Just cause I take care of you, doesn't mean you.. have to like, be nice like that." You say, and at that, he huffs angrily to himself, tail all fluffy as the fur stands out to all ends in his growing frustration, his arms crossed.

"No.!" He argues. "Stupid!" He curses, getting up to walk into his bedroom, before he emerges back out with some papers in his hand, and red ears as he slaps them on the couch, fleeing the scene right after before slamming the door shut, and locking the door.

And on your couch are two papers, one of them having writing on both sides- the handwriting sloppy and crooked, but readable. And while some sentences don't make sense, it seems like he's tried to take his time and write down what he can't say, at the moment.

'Kitty is stupid' is written on top of the first paper, and you scoff to yourself. 'Kitty doesn't get it.' it reads further.

'I want cry. I catch her prey, I offer it, and she give away to man downstairs. Man downstairs can't even hunt at all, keeps stupid bird in a cage but doesn't ever eat it. Who keeps food alive in home? Why she likes him I don't know- he stupid, just like her. But I like her. Maybe I can teach her one day. But what if she hunt for her then? No, I want to do that.'

'I want to show that I can be good partner. I learned to cook with human foods! She likes food, likes eating. I like eating too, so we eat together often. Then we hug, and she scratches my head. I like that. She's warm.'

'Maybe she doesn't like me. Doesn't like my kind. Doesn't want my kind. Or me. Just me? Maybe just me. I'm the problem. She doesn't want me.'

You turn the page around. It's written with a different pen- probably written on a different day.

'She likes me. I know she do.'

'I made nest for her, today, and she smiled. Smiled happy, cute, like kitty-toys on her bed. Has cheeks round just like them. Soft, too. She is soft. Body soft. I like holding her often. I like holding her in nest I made. And she hugged me, too. Let me hold her instead. Normal, she hold me. But this time, I hold her. I want to hold her more from now. She can be held anytime she want. She smells nice too. Smells best when happy, and after shower.'

You chuckle as you remember that day. It had been raining, you'd gotten caught up in it on the way home from grocery shopping, and after putting all things away and showering, Jungkook had waited on the couch for you, blankets from his bed placed on it, his hand inviting you to sleep there with him. And you had simply accepted the offer-

After all, you didn't know what exactly he'd been trying to offer you with those pillows and blankets placed there. You were educated on his physical health and general behavior- not about courting rituals and how to spot if the Vrota you've been taking care of has developed a romantic interest in you. Why the hell would they teach that anyways? It's not like they are known to have a huge interest in humans.

If anything, they're typically looking down on humans.

You move the paper, and turn to the last one. There's not much written on it, but the sentences are clearer, showing how his health had started to increase again, brain starting to work better these days. They're not perfect, there's a lot scribbled out, but it's clear that it must've been written recently.

'I don't know if she enjoy my company as much as I do her. I know she gain money from taking care of me, but it feels like she also doing it because she care about me. Will she abandon me once I am healthy? Will she leave me once I recover? Will I forget her if I go back home? What if home is here now and not where home was? I don't want to go home anymore if she not there.'

'It's not home if she's not there. It's just a house, just a planet, just a place. But I want home. I want to be her home. I want us to be each other home.'

Can you even be a home? You haven't at all planned any further than up until he's healthy enough to go back home. You've got no clue what to really do after he leaves- so what the hell are you supposed to do now? A relationship with him would be perfectly legal, sure, but he's also only got a Visa for his earth-stay up until he's healthy enough to return to his home planet, once they've gotten their whole pandemic situation back under control. You don't know what to do now.

Maybe you really are stupid, like he says.

So you decide to be even more stupid, as you take a small post it note from your kitchen, and write down a single sentence, before you slide the little note under his bedroom door.

And as he reads it, his eyes become wide, while his fingers clench the pastel pink paper.

'I want to be your home, too.'

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 15

PREVIOUS

The thing is… FF is aware that he should probably be medicated. You might be saying well isn’t he taking his ulcer medication? The answer is yes he is and when he is getting close to missing a dose Nicky’s usually the one that texts him with six frowny face emojis asking if he took his meds (they have a system, he takes his meds and then he texts Nicky)

No, he knows that he should probably get on something for his anxiety. Betsy has offered to get started on getting him on the right cocktail, his grandma thinks it’s a good idea, and Nicky has offered to get him as much weed as he needs to chill out, he knows a guy. Andrew is probably only going to stab him and threaten him not actually hunt him for sport, in his moments of clarity he can accept and understand that.

But there is nothing in this world that he wants less than to get back on anxiety medication. The world had been grey, it muted everything in the world for him, he faded completely into the background of his own life, and he couldn’t even grieve-

He was almost thankful for his step-dad’s sudden arrival in his life and how quickly his mom forgot about him to spend every waking moment she could on him and his children and then their children. It was two years of nothing and then his mom stopped picking up and refilling his prescription because it was too much of a hassle to keep picking up every month.

“He’s not anxious, see he’s fine. He doesn’t need it anymore.”

The withdrawal and the emotions that came afterwards had been hellish. He’d collapsed into his Grandma’s arms and begged her not to call his mom. He spent an entire month of summer vacation feeling like he was going to die and when he got back he found that no one had even missed him.

He swallowed the hurt, all of his emotions felt so much stronger now that he’d lost them for two years. If he has reactions like he’d had before he knows his mom will put him back on the medication.

The town is small and everyone talks. He knows about the dog walker’s poop flinging scandal, he knows about how the butcher’s left pinky got put back on wrong when he’d cut it off, he knows that the kid down the street paid $40 for a bag of oregano that he thought was weed, he knows that lil susie is in counseling because a girl should probably not be establishing cult rituals around her barbies.

He can’t react, can’t let people know he’s dying from anxiety because his math teacher sighs when he hands over his test. Can’t let anyone know that he has to put his head between his legs and take deep breaths before he can go into the cafeteria. His only solace is that all of the foreign language teachers love him, it’s easier to accept a compliment or comment in a language his family doesn’t use.

His step family treat him like the guards outside of Buckingham. Anything for a reaction y’know? He tells himself he does not care and for the most part he doesn’t.

He signs up for Exy in middle school because he just wanted something to do and it was the sport that had the same meeting days as his grandma’s bowling league. She picks him up from practice and they get ice cream together afterwards, she’s the only thing he has since Great Gran passed not too long after he got free of the medication.

He still feels her fingers checking behind his ears on occasion, a joke now that he’s off his meds referencing when he was too zoned out to care about hygiene. He still remembers her looking at him and feeling like she was seeing more than just him, “You’re a Smith. The last one when me and my daughter go. We’ll all be with you whenever you need us.” She promises.

He thinks it’s just respectful to get her favorite scent when he needs her help. He was raised to be respectful.  Lavender still makes him think of her and he hopes his grandma left some on her grave recently.

He knew he’d have to wait to go to college. His mom is putting on the pressure now that he’s 18 saying he will have to pay rent even though Greg is older and definitely isn’t. He plays Exy and thinks about how he’ll handle his life between 18 and 25, he puts all his anxiety into the game and maybe the coach notices something.

He must have noticed something.

The Foxes don’t offer positions to kids who don’t have something going wrong for them.

Coach Wymack and Dan Wilds wouldn’t be there in his little bum fuck nowhere town in Washington if his coach hadn’t sent a tape and an explanation.

He could admit that he knew about the Foxes. He looked up to the vice captain a fair bit not just for his game but also…well the Butcher was national news. Vice Captain Neil’s story was all over the news and maybe he was just a little bit in awe of someone who could stand his ground after all of that. Watching Vice Captain Neil Josten give shit to every last reporter who gave him any shit? Inspiring.

He just didn’t think it’d be a good fit for him.

He’s not like the rest of the Foxes. Dan talks about them all in broad terms, how they’re all fighting to become something and grow beyond the unfairness that was out of their control. FF is tough to convince but he’s a pretty good defensive dealer, Dan and Coach Wymack both want him.

Dan eventually has to go because she has an interview for a coaching position out this way but Coach Wymack just hands over the rental car keys and Coach Wymack stays.

Coach Wymack stays and they keep talking. FF talks about everything and Wymack eventually just says “Well, you’re still here despite all of that aren’t you? Sounds like a fighter to me. I think you’ve got what it takes to carry that weight with some help and I can promise that you won’t have to deal with those jerks past your high school graduation. You’re not going to be the first Fox who I help out from under some asshole parents and you won’t be the last.”

So he signs a contract, he’s 18 he can do that AND buy cigarettes now (he won’t. That’s how Gran lost gramps when dad was still young but he COULD. Much like he COULD go into the town’s only sex toy shop but that would be back to his grandma faster than the cigarette purchase to be honest and he isn’t THAT interested in what’s in there.)

He finishes up school but the assistant coach is a friend of his step dad and mentions that he’s signed to the Foxes. It’s just one week between his graduation and when Coach Wymack is coming to grab him

Suddenly he exists in his house for the first time since they all moved into it after the wedding and it’s the WORST. The want things, they want promises, they want assurances, they want to pretend and act like he’s always been there.

He flees to his Grandma’s house and texts Coach Wymack asking if there’s ANY chance he can get picked up early because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to talk if he calls the man.

Coach Wymack comes for him and shoulders him past his ‘family’ to the rental car but the panic attack he sees in the car ride to the airport when his family’s car follows them all the way to the rental drop off means that he HAS to see Betsy.

Betsy is nice. Betsy teaches him how to breathe through stuff. Betsy teaches him how to ground himself in reality. Betsy tells him that the Starbucks girl probably doesn’t hate him. Betsy suggests he get on some medication.

He said No.

He’s scared out of his MIND in Palmetto but it’s better than-

He prefers to feel things.

Betsy tells him that it shouldn’t have been like that. His mother should have taken him back and gotten his prescription adjusted until it wasn’t like that.

He still declines.

Andrew gets suspicious about him knowing Russian after that game of Never Have I Ever and Nicky keeps almost letting it spill right by him. His stomach hurts the CVS girl keeps pepto for him behind the counter.

He still declines.

He prefers to feel things.

You can’t enjoy the thrill of a 100% on a Kanji Basics midterms without the anxiety of the Oral presentation. You can’t feel the true satisfaction of getting a blender for 25% off + 50 dollars of in-store credit without the flop-sweat of the searching eyes of a woman wearing PINK branded lounge wear. You can’t keep friends if you have no ability to empathize with them even if you’re worried you’re annoying them or ‘humble bragging’.

Fear is better.

Betsy tells him if he’s ever ready then she will help him. His Gran tells him she loves him. Nicky says “Look there’s a strain called White Russian. That’d be funny right?!”and FF agrees but declines to sample it.

Right now, as Nicky smudges eyeliner under his eyes and tugs at his shirt for the 80th time, he thinks it might actually be better to feel nothing.

He’d woken up from his…nap? He might have fainted actually? But he did it on a bed and it lasted for like 4 hours? So does that count as a nap? He wants to ask but also doesn’t want to worry anyone, maybe he could ask Aaron that if a Friend faints and doesn’t wake up for four hours is that a nap or a medical emergency? Just curious.

When he had emerged from Nicky’s room Captain Neil and Andrew had herded them all into the Maserati and they’d gone out and gotten McDonald’s for a late lunch. The only comment he had gotten when he’d asked for a happy meal (his stomach could not handle anything more) was whether or not he wanted the toy.

“Yes.” He answered panicked at the sudden question.

He got his Megamind toy, accidentally shone it into Aaron’s eyes when he pushed a button. “Shit that’s bright” before he apologized and shoved it in his jacket pocket.

They hung out at the house for the rest of the day.

They watched movies, played Mario Kart (how is Captain Neil this bad when his reflexes on the court are so good?) and did some homework. Andrew seemed to actually like the brownies which is why FF probably woke up from his... still haven’t asked Aaron if it’s a nap or a medical emergency.

He has a square and even at room temperature they taste great.

When it started to get dark they all went to go get ready. FF had gone to get whatever clothes Nicky had prepared on but had found himself sat on the man’s bed (so much glitter, seriously how can one bed have so much of it?) and Nicky holding a pencil to his eye and telling HIM not to flinch.

“Gonna have all the….” Nicky pauses and adopts a look on his face that means that he’s thinking incredibly hard about something. “Wait how have we been friends for MONTHS and I have no idea how you swing?” FF is caught off guard for a few moments because it’s the first time that Nicky has verbally confirmed that they are, in fact, friends and…

Wow.

That’s so nice.

He thought it was just Nicky’s innate inability to leave something to suffer needlessly that had the upperclassmen helping him. (FF has watched Nicky go out of his way to give cats food, turn turtles back onto their stomachs, and walk into traffic to stop cars so that a duck family could make it to a pond. He just sort of figured he was the same level of pathetic)

Wait.

What.

“Wait, what?”

“How do you swing?” Nicky repeats.

FF knows what he means but doesn’t want to. “With my left hand.” He responds and hopes Nicky drops it because the long and short answer is: he doesn’t know. He has no idea.

“Ohh dirty!” Nicky makes a jacking off motion with his left hand and FF feels embarrassed sweat cover his body, “NO! Don’t ruin my work!” Nicky yells fanning him with his hands so the eyeliner doesn’t run. “You know what I mean Smithy. Swing for girls, boys, both, neither? What am I working with here?” He asks wiping at FF’s cheek.

“I don’t…know.” He admits because deflecting is OBVIOUSLY not his strong suit. Twice in a row it’s brought up weird sex stuff.

“C’mon don’t be embarrassed. Even if you’re straight you’re obviously an Ally.” Nicky smiles.

“No it’s not…” he flushes okay he is embarrassed but that’s because he REALLY doesn’t know. Like how the hell did he get to college and have ZERO idea about what he’s attracted to or if he’s just not attracted to anyone? He’d been focused on not screaming for the last decade and that hadn’t really left a lot of room to consider how anyone looked. He’s getting used to having friends and three whole group chats (he’s bad at responding to them, overwhelmed by the idea that whatever he says can be revisited and picked apart forever but still, THREE!)

“I really have no idea.” He repeats.

Nicky blinks at him. “Okay well, college can be all about figuring that out then! No worries my sweet boy, we will figure this out.” Nicky pats his cheek.

He feels a little better.

“Alright, let’s go to Eden’s!”

Oh fuck that’s right.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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The requests to be added to the tag list got spread out across a few different mediums on this one so if I missed you then just ask in the replies!

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you  didn’t  get a notification there might be something switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #Turns out I couldn't wait to write about Dan and Wymack coming out to recruit FF #So I used them as a means to talk about some other shit #And transition back to Thanksgiving Break #In the end no matter how silly he is #FF is a Fox #He's a Fox with all that implies #I'll touch more on his full past later but here's a lil taste #A lil angst as a TREAT #After all the sugar you need some bitterness #Could he really be a blorbo without it? #FF in the car on the way to Sweetie's: Hey so like random question here Aaron but what's the turn around time on fainting? #Aaron: the turn around time? #FF: Yeah like how long does it usually take for someone to wake up after they faint? #Aaron: Like 20 seconds #FF: So like four hours is abnormal #Aaron: 20 minutes is abnormal. Four hours is a medical emergency. WHY? #FF: Asking for a friend. #Aaron: That friend should be in the hospital #FF: Oh he probably will be later #I don't know if I'm gonna write them actually hanging out at Sweeties in their club outfits #I think the implied OH GOD I'M NOT DRESSED RIGHT that FF would feel is so obvious #But hey time to see who reads the tags #What flavor do you think FF would get for ice cream? #AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG AU #AFTG Fic #FF - Pt. 15

[wanderinginksplot]

Kix + Competence

After a rocky meeting, you try to avoid Kix and the attraction of his competence. It doesn't work out.

Kix x gn!reader (no use of 'y/n' and no pronouns). Romantic.

Word Count: 3,200

Warnings: feelings of intimidation, mentions of trooper genetic manipulation, nervousness, some awkwardness.

---

"Alright, that finishes up the bulk of today's briefing," Captain Rex announced. "Any other business?"

"Yeah, why are we having a briefing when we're so deep in unoccupied space that a Seppie would be a welcome sight?" one of the nearby troopers asked rhetorically, his voice pitched low enough that only the trooper beside him - and you - could hear.

It wasn't a bad point. The briefing had mostly been made up of minor points about the ship's maintenance and small alterations to the mission… only the declassified pieces, of course. The captain was welcome to have as many meetings as he wanted, but you were curious why you had to attend.

You were a last-minute addition to the Resolute, pulled in to fill a position that had been vacated due to an unfortunate combination of injuries, deaths, and transfers. The job as a radar technician was one you excelled at, and your supervisor had immediately recommended you to fill the temporary vacancy. Your competitive streak had preened at the recognition of your skills, even if they sent you to a dangerous position far from home.

The fact that you had no family and few friends was probably part of the reason for your new assignment, but you were trying not to think about that.

In any case, silence reigned in the hangar bay after the captain had asked his question and you were ready for the meeting to end, but the captain nodded to one of the troopers.

As the man in question stepped forward, your heart gave a heaving thud and you did your best to look somewhere else.

Kix was the 501st's medic, the one assigned to keep the men safe and treat any injuries that may occur in the field. He was an efficient worker, an unflinching professional, and extremely competent in every respect.

That was the problem. 

Your first interaction with the medic had been less than ideal. You had been brand new to the Resolute and interacting with some troopers for the first time when you had asked how they spent down time on the cruiser. They had mentioned a few things, but seemed especially excited about competitions in the blaster ranges. As always, the mention of a chance to excel had piqued your interest and you had excitedly mentioned that you were a good shot. 

“Who knows?” you had joked. “I might even end up beating some of you!”

They had laughed, but Kix - standing nearby - hadn’t. “Doubtful. Troopers are bred from the genes up to be better than nat-borns at anything combat-related. Shooting, running, strategy, detonators…”

With the horrible sensation of prior interest that had now curdled in your stomach, you offered a curt nod and walked away. 

Kix’s bluntness hadn’t been a surprise, especially since he was a medic, but it paired poorly with a shocking revelation you had about yourself: you liked him. 

You hadn’t known how thrilling you found competence until you had joined the GAR… and even then, you encountered very few examples of it. But on the Resolute, Kix was the one who had drawn your attention. At first that was mostly due to irritation, but it had soon turned to reluctant admiration. He was attractive even beyond his bearing and you could see yourself in a relationship with him - hells, you had imagined it often enough - but your assignment was probably temporary and it seemed like a bad idea. 

So, as the self-assured, competitive technician you considered yourself, you put all your energy toward avoiding Kix any time there was a chance of sharing a space.

It really didn’t work very well. You always found yourself in situations where Kix was present. Even worse, he always seemed to be doing something that showed how intensely good he was at being a medic or influencing his brothers or any number of things he had been trained to do. It was frustrating.

At the front of the room, Kix had only just started to speak. Despite your determination not to stare at- ahem, watch him, his voice commanded your attention and you found your gaze locked on him anyway.

“As most of the veteran troopers on this ship know, you are expected to meet basic safety standards to serve aboard a space-faring vessel, especially in times of war. Every being on this ship must hold certain certifications concerning those standards.” Kix glanced around the room. “I know we have a few newcomers on the Resolute, so consider this your briefing: you need to attend a class and an assessment. Dates and times for those are posted on the ship’s information boards and outside of the medbay.”

This wasn’t the first you had heard about safety standards and certifications. You had even known they were required for serving on ships. However, you had always assumed you were exempt since you were only a specialist brought on for a temporary assignment. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you reasoned. Kix probably wouldn’t be there. Why would a medic supervise safety regulatory compliance? …okay, you could guess why. But he had other work to do.

Your hopes were instantly dashed when Kix finished, “I’ll be personally supervising every training and assessment. If you don’t complete your full certification by the end of the week, you’ll be subject to disciplinary action.”

“What if we’re already certified but wanna come hang out with our favorite medic?” a voice called from the front of the group. 

Kix rolled his eyes, but a grin flashed over his face as he said, “Jesse, you can go ahead and let your certification expire. I don’t think anyone is comfortable with the idea of you trying to save their life.”

A loud scoff and some raucous laughter was the only answer to that… at least until Captain Rex announced, “Dismissed.”

You were slow to join the crowd of troopers drifting toward the doors back into the main body of the Resolute. Even just that split-second smirk on the handsome medic’s face had been enough to throw your heart into a pounding rhythm. 

How were you ever going to survive a full class with him and still learn enough to pass the assessment? You certainly didn’t want to be found lacking, even in a temporary assignment. And especially since you knew Kix had such a low opinion of nat-borns already.

Two days later, you hadn’t found an answer, but you were in the class. It wasn’t the last one offered, but it was the only one that worked with your schedule. Infuriatingly, Kix had been around even more often since the briefing. Any time you were somewhere for more than an hour or two, he would be there as well. The reasons were always different and valid: working on a project, checking on someone who had sustained an injury on the last mission, following up with people who had taken their assessments. 

When you finally walked into the class, you were relieved to find that it seemed to be a module-based course. There were workstations set around the room, each with a datapad lying on the desk. 

“Welcome,” a voice greeted warmly. You knew who the voice belonged to, and a polite - if mildly pained - smile was already stretched over your face by the time you turned. “Let me explain how the class is going to work.”

You nodded, glancing around the room as an excuse to avoid his eyes. You were worried what they would see in yours. “I would appreciate that. I’m a little lost.”

“Well, we’re going to start with a short holovid on the datapads,” Kix told you, gesturing to the waiting row of workstations. “It’ll walk you through some basic safety and first aid information. Then, when you’ve finished the video, you’ll come to the back area.”

You hadn’t seen the small, half-curtained area until Kix pointed it out, and then your nerves were thrumming with tension. 

“To demonstrate the skills there, I assume?” you checked. When Kix nodded, you asked, “And is this a test situation or a collaborative effort?”

“More the former than the latter,” Kix told you. “That works better for you, since you’re the only one who signed up for this particular time slot.”

The signups had indicated that you would need one to two hours to complete the full course. Just your luck that time would be spent completely alone with the 501st’s handsome medic.

“I’m sure you have other things to do,” you said in a desperate attempt to get out of this for a little longer. “I can sign up for a different course with other people in it. Just let me know what day and time.”

This was the only course that worked with your schedule, but surely you could be excused from your job to be certified in order to continue performing said job? That sounded like something you could convince your supervisor to allow. 

But Kix was already shaking his head. “You’re already here and I’ve had this time set aside since you signed up. Go ahead and grab a datapad. The holofilm is already queued up. Let me know when you’re done and we’ll move on to the second half of things.”

You weren’t sure what you had expected to see in the holofilm - maybe CPR or basic first aid - but you were met with a diagram of a Venator-class star destroyer. 

An LY-77 droid began speaking about the build of the ship, what each floor held, and where the major mechanical components were housed. You held a top-secret security clearance as part of the requirements for your job, but this was still intensely well-guarded information. Honestly, you weren’t sure you were supposed to be seeing it at all, but it was interesting enough to hold your attention. 

The droid talked you through emergency plans, evacuation routes, and the location of medical kits. Then the holovid delved deeper into the specifics of what you could find in the medkits and how each piece should be used. That was where things started to get more complex. The medkits were meant to help with anything from trips and falls to depressurization. 

Just as you were starting to feel bitter at Kix for describing the holovid as ‘short’, it ended. That would have been good, but it left you with the realization that you had to go spend time one-on-one with the medic. 

When you walked toward the curtained area, you found Kix sitting at his desk seemingly engrossed in filling out forms. You cleared your throat softly. “Kix? I’m done with the holovid.”

Kix immediately stowed his datapad in a drawer and stood. “Good. Any questions?” 

You shook your head and he gestured you toward the curtained area. When you stepped through, you found a realistic mannequin lying on the bed with a medkit on the table beside it. It seemed to be a generically humanoid medical mannequin, though someone had drawn the outline of a chestplate across the torso, along with some lines that looked suspiciously like Hardcase’s tattoos.

“We’re going to run through some questions and test how well you remember the different topics covered in the holovid,” Kix told you. 

Despite the nervousness screaming through your system, you passed the majority of the test without making a mistake. Luckily, the internal organization of a Venator-class star destroyer was fairly logical, which made it easier to follow. Questions about emergency situations had captured your attention, so you had retained more than you might have, otherwise.

“Okay, great job,” Kix congratulated. “Let’s move on to the practical portion. Go ahead and open the kit.”

That sounded simple enough - and it should have been - but the medkit had latches unlike anything you had ever seen before. Dimly, you remembered the holovid mentioning that the medkits were tamper-proof, with latches designed to be operated only by sentients. You weren’t sure whether the sentient-operated design was one you endorsed, especially since you couldn’t manage to pry them open, even as a sentient yourself. 

“They’re sent-op latches,” Kix reminded you. 

You gritted your teeth in an effort to hold back a biting retort. “I realize that. I’m just having trouble opening them.”

“The holovid showed you how to open them.”

The underlying meaning being that you should remember how to use the latches. Or that you hadn’t been paying attention. Both of those conclusions frustrated you because, despite paying attention, you didn’t remember how to operate the latches. 

“I don’t have a perfect memory, not like you do,” you countered. Your irritation made the factual statement sound snappish. Kix frowned and you shook your head, regret spiking in your chest. Just because you thought he was condescending didn’t mean you could be rude. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Do you need something to eat?” 

The sudden change in topic made you stare. “Wh-what?” 

“Your hands are shaking,” Kix pointed out, already bustling to a nearby cabinet. Before you could get more than two words into your explanation, he was back and pressing a small packet of crackers into your hands… Which, you had to admit, were noticeably shaking.

“Are you feeling okay?” he continued. “Eat and I’ll get you something to drink. I think I’ve got some juice around here. I haven’t seen anything noteworthy in your medical records, but we can run some tests-”

“Kix, I’m fine,” you interrupted. “I’m nervous, not sick.”

He pulled up short, squinting at you. “Nervous? Why are you nervous?”

“Well, I’m not sure…” you drawled slowly, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Maybe it’s because I’m being tested on a half-learned set of procedures by a hyper-competent medical officer?”

“You shouldn’t be nervous,” Kix assured you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Kix, put yourself in my position. You wouldn’t be nervous if you were me?”

“I’m already nervous.”

You would have taken it as a joke, a dry little comment meant to either put you down slightly or attempt to put you at ease (failure though it would be). However, the surprised and regretful look on Kix’s face told you that wasn’t the case. 

“You’re nervous?” you asked, feeling stunned. “Why would you be nervous?”

“It’s not- That isn’t-” Kix cut himself off with a sharp sigh and an impatient turn, like he had other things he needed to do. But now that you knew what to look for, you saw past the cool, professional facade. He really was on-edge. “You aren’t an easy person to get to know.”

If the galaxy had given you a thousand guesses, that wouldn’t have been among them. “Get to know me? I don’t understand.”

Another sigh. “You know the men talk amongst themselves, right?”

“Yes, I know,” you told him with a shrug. You had seen the troopers gossip in the mess hall, on the bridge, in hallways… anywhere, really. “They aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Of course not,” Kix agreed, shaking his head in exasperation and mild amusement. “But you may not know that they have plenty to say about you.”

You winced. “Anything I need to explain?”

Kix frowned for a moment in confusion, then barked out a laugh. “No, nothing concerning. They say good things about you. Really good things, actually. Mostly that you’re hardworking and trustworthy and funny. And there’s the- Well, the… You know you’re good-looking, right?”

Now it was your turn to give a sharp laugh. “Pretty rich coming from the best-looking trooper in the GAR.”

Any embarrassment you may have felt at saying that directly to Kix’s face was negated by the fact that you had heard the comment parroted word-for-word at least two dozen times since you had first stepped aboard the Resolute. 

And you made sure your tone showed that, too. 

Kix grinned anyway, as cocky as you would have expected if the compliment had been given by you alone. “Flattery won’t make me forget the rest of the assessment, but you’re welcome to keep trying.”

“Don’t get too excited,” you warned him, watching his expression stay exactly the same despite it. “I also think you’re rude and condescending.”

Finally a reaction - Kix grimaced slightly. “Because of the genetic superiority comment?”

“Yes.” If the confirmation came out flat and a little dry, it was still better than anything else that may have escaped you.

“Yeah, Denal told me I karked that one up pretty badly,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I’ve wanted to make it up to you, but I was trying to let you make the first move and you never acknowledge me.”

That made you frown in realization. “Wait, is that why you’re always hanging around? Trying to get me to talk to you?”

Now Kix was frowning, too. “Yes? Why else would I do it?”

“Honestly, I thought you were showing off,” you replied. “You always seemed to be doing something to prove how great a soldier you are or how skilled you are at being the 501st’s medic.”

Kix ducked his head, handsome face reddening slightly. “Well, if I was going to be around anyway, I thought it might help if you thought I was good at my job.”

“That’s never been in question,” you countered, feeling exasperated. “Anyone can see you’re good at your job, Kix. But all it made me feel was intimidation.”

And attraction, a traitorous little voice reminded, not incorrectly. You pushed it away, but not soon enough. Whatever Kix had read in your expression, it was enough to give him a look that was almost gleeful.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything,” you denied.

“No, but you didn’t have to.” Kix took a step toward you, putting himself squarely in touching distance. You got the distinct feeling it was meant to be for your benefit. “Come on, tell me what that face was about.”

The resulting argument was short, but longer than was worth it. Eventually, you sighed. “Like I said, you’re a good-looking man. Can we move on?”

“On one condition.”

You frowned at the cryptic answer. “And that is?”

“Spend some time with me,” he requested. “Just dinner here on the ship. Any time you want before we get back to Coruscant. And then it’s up to you - if you want to keep seeing each other, say the word and I’ll plan a better date planetside. What do you think?”

The pause you took to think it over was about twice the time you actually needed, but it was soothing the remains of your irritation to see him start looking nervous. At last, you took pity on him. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Kix said, gracing you with a small but sincere smile that spread over his handsome face. That smile turned into a grin the next moment as he nodded toward your hands. “I still need you to open that medkit, though.”

Your groan was loud and mostly theatrical, interrupted by Kix’s laugh and broken by your own.

---

Author's Note - I feel like I've written very few fics featuring Kix (other than Nobody Listens to Kix), so I wanted to write one. Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it!

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