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cheeriecherrymain · 1 year ago

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papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?

A/N: slowly, slowly, recovering from the creative drought ive been in

it's nowhere near a waterfall again, more like a frustrating dribble, BUT. It's something. But anyways, here is a Papa Viktor Thought Blurb (listen, my sister is almost three months old now, and I am so besotted with her, she's my favourite tiny person, and i am full of Caretaker Feelings)

Content Warning: 18+ MDNI (not explicit, but very very suggestive), afab!Reader, pregnancy, labour and birth (again, not explicit, but still with some depth), papa!Viktor, no beta no editing we simply die

Imagine Viktor, and him believing he'll be alone for his entire life - working so hard to make some kind of legacy for himself, putting everything he has into his creations and his machines. Every calculation, every experiment a labour of love.

This is how the world will remember his name.

At least, he hopes.

But then he meets you.

You're charming, he has to admit. You make friends wherever you go, and you have a weird habit of bringing people out of their shells. There's just...something about you that makes others want to bare their souls to you. Something that draws people in.

Like you have a tangible sort of gravity, and wherever you go, someone ends up in your orbit.

He won't mean much to you, he thinks, after conversing with you a couple times. You're creative, like he is, and you're enjoyable to talk to. But nothing more. Sooner or later, you'll continue on somewhere else, making waves and drawing attention. And in your wake, he will be left to sink. It's what expects.

Except...

You don't leave.

Your chats start out small. Short and sweet, a How are you today? wondered whenever you pass each other in the halls a couple times a month, curious about the goings-on of his life.

He never has anything interesting to tell you about. No adventures or tales to tell, nothing beyond the walls of a cramped and cluttered office.

You must be bored, he thinks.

But then you start seeking him out. Instead of just catching up for a couple minutes whenever you happen to walk past each other, you hunt him down in his office - and god, he wasn't lying when he'd told you it was cramped.

You're amazed he even has the space to think in there, with how tight it is. Yet you still shimmy yourself into the tiny room, careful not to disturb any piles of papers, and find a careful seat on a spot of open floor beside his desk. There's no room for a second chair, and you've always made it clear that you dislike standing when you're having a long conversation.

It's nice to sit down and rest somewhere together, you'd told him one time.

You grow closer after that. From seeing him a couple times a month, to a couple times a week, to literally every day. You don't seem to care that he never has anything 'exciting' to share with you, even going so far as to chastise him for calling himself uninteresting.

Your experiments are cool, you'd insisted, while leafing through one of his old journals. It's incredible to get to see how your mind works, and how creative and inventive you are. You have so many ideas, Viktor, and I really believe that they could help people.

Something changes in him, after that. He'd always been quieter around you, listening to your stories, and dutifully answering your questions: never quite letting you in.

Now he looks forward to seeing you.

His heart skips a beat every time he hears you knocking on his office door, a chipper little pattern reserved only for him. You know that he doesn't always like dealing with students after hours, so you'd come up with a way to let him know that it was you who was greeting him.

Things progress...surprisingly natural.

He's not subtle by any means, even if he thinks he is. The moment he realizes that he has feelings for you, all bets are off. His cheeks dust pink whenever you're around, his palms get sweaty and he fidgets, and the staring.

Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.

You can't not kiss him.

You spend the next couple years having the time of your lives. Moving from classes and overbearing internships, to actively working on experiments. Collaborating with each other, drawing up ideas and debating functionality and form. The two of you get so heated when you're creating things together.

Neither of you are surprised when it devolves. Wide gestures and hasty chalkboard sketches, impassioned explanations and wild eyes - you bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over him, in all his dishevelled beauty. Hair a mess, tie crooked and loose, shirt partially unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Many nights are spent like that, cooped up in his little laboratory, surrounded by sketches and blueprints and scribbles and stray notes. His fingertips digging into the soft of your skin as he kisses the breath out of you. The rhythmic clunking of his crooked desk most telling, as he draws forth your little squeaks and sighs of delight.

Absolutely ruining you, filling you, stretching you open. Feeling the way you tremble in his hands, held tight to his slender body as he reaches so deep into you that you'll feel him for days.

Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck when he finds his own release - to stay quiet, he tells you. But you both know it's his way of marking you.

Claiming you.

You're his. You're his person, his love, his partner. Your eyes only ever shine the way they do when you look at him.

Your body, splayed out and spread before him, quivering and gasping and covered in a thin sheen of sweat - his.

Your taste, sweet on his tongue - your mouth, your skin, your arousal that drips out of you whenever he so much as looks at you.

His.

And he knows, without a single atom of doubt, that he's also yours. So entirely entangled with each other, neither of you knowing how you'd managed to exist separately before now.

How had you possibly found beauty in every day, when you'd never heard his voice? Never caught a whiff of his sweet shampoo as he ambled past you? Never felt the warmth of his touch, or the puff of his sighs on your cheek? Never known the tickle of his hair on your bare skin as you slowly woke every morning to find him curled around you, his face smashed into your back and soft snores emanating from him?

No matter, you think. You have him now, and that's what's important.

...until everything changes.

You miss a period.

You tell him about it.

You're both on edge, but he tries to remain optimistic. Cycles can be upset sometimes, he tells you, as if you don't already know. (You're certain he's really just trying to reassure himself.)

But deep down, you know.

You can feel it in the all-encompassing tiredness you wake with every morning. In the random bouts of nausea, and the sudden food aversions. The back aches, and all the sudden new smells you can detect.

You know something is amiss.

And he knows, too, when he finds you one time in the middle of the night. Standing in your shared little kitchen, in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator.

Pulling pickles straight out of the jar, dipping them in mayonnaise, and sinking your teeth into them. Like they were to most delectable thing you'd ever ingested.

You're both terrified, of course.

You're not really surprised that you've managed to fall pregnant - not with the way you two lust after each other practically every night, and sometimes in the morning. Maybe even once or twice in between meetings, when you're both squished together in his compact office.

Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.

And certainly not right now.

But...you want this, you realize. You want this with him. You want a family with him, you want the evidence of your love - you want a future with him, and you want to see what beautiful little person you'll make together.

Would they have his eyes? Yours? He hopes they have your smile, he tells you, eventually.

It takes you by surprise, his words, what with how quiet he'd been since you'd both figured everything out. You'd been worrying that he wasn't really on board with keeping the baby - with being a father. And you hadn't blamed him, really.

You'd been beyond stressed at the idea of raising a child alone. The thought of him leaving you, leaving behind something so intrinsically tied to him, had been slowly breaking your heart. You hadn't wanted him to stay simply out of obligation - you know you wouldn't be able to cope with the eventual resentment that such an action would breed.

But to know for certain now that he'd only been anxious?

That he wanted this with you, and was excited?

You're so happy that you immediately burst into tears, squeaking and sniffling and snotting uncontrollably while Viktor bites back a laugh and herds you into his embrace. Stroking your back and murmuring the sweetest things to you while you try to catch your breath, leaving gentle kisses all over your face.

Telling you all about what kind of person he hoped your little one would be.

Your smile, most certainly, he said, resolute. You have the most beautiful smile. You light up the room wherever you go. Maybe your sense of humour, too. And certainly your compassion.

Your tears slowly began to lessen, as you let yourself be lulled by the comfort of his arms around you.

Your hair, though, you insist, smushing your face into his shirt. You look so pretty in the mornings, all fluffed up and in disarray. It's the cutest shit I've ever seen.

That garners a laugh from him.

I want them to have your eyes, as well, you admit, albeit somewhat shyly. I've never seen a colour like yours, so intense and complex. Way back when we first met, and you looked at me for the very first time? I almost lost the ability to breathe. It was...it was like I knew, right then. That you were the person I wanted to spend my life with.

He squeezes you a little bit tighter, stooping down to tenderly slot your lips together. Slow, lazy, intimate. Sharing breath and warmth and love and-

He takes you again.

Right there, in the dim quiet of his office, not seeming to care if anyone passing by in the hallway might hear you. Spoiling you absolutely rotten, speaking praises against your skin as he brings you over the edge again and again and again.

Pupils blown wide as he sinks his fingers into you, crooking them perfectly as to reach the spots he knows will drive you mad. The papers strewn around the room don't matter - they don't even cross his mind, as you wriggle and squirm and quiver and cry out for him.

How could they, when all he can focus on is the way you look when your body tenses up, another wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, culminating in your lovely little noises, and the addicting feeling of your pleasure dripping down his fingers and over his palm, soaking him thoroughly.

He would be happy to have you like this, as frequently as you would let him.

He knows how sensitive you must be by now, not only from his ministrations, but also from the way your body is changing. He's done his fair amount of reading since discovering your pregnancy - he's aware of all the ways you might be feeling.

The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.

The all-encompassing, single-minded lust you might go through.

He's ready to please you, however you might want - his fingers, his mouth. And whenever you might want. You could wake him up in the middle of the night, for all he cares. You could nudge him from the sleep that he so desperately needs, and he'd ask not a single question besides What do you need, darling? How would you like me?

What he doesn't expect is his own desire.

You're beautiful. You always have been beautiful. Even as things change, he was absolutely certain that you would never stop being beautiful.

It's you, so of course he's going to want you.

But seeing you now, whining and looking at him like he's hung the moon in the sky, specifically for you? Your tummy already growing round with the life that you've made together, visible proof of your love? Desperate whimpers falling past your lips, begging him for more, for him to fill you up again and again and again?

He can't resist you.

Even when he starts to ache, and his arms start shaking, and his throat is raw and dry from breathing hard and calling out for you.

He can't resist you.

You're insatiable.

So is he.

He's a little more careful as the months progress. Manhandling you less, digging his fingers into the soft fat of your hips a little gentler. He's cognizant of how you're most comfortable, watching in awe as you tremble on top of him, grinding down on him and taking his entire length into you like you were made specifically for him.

Nearly every day, you beg for him.

He loves you.

And when the time eventually comes for you to waddle carefully into the labour centre, meeting your midwife along the way, Viktor tries to keep his worrying quiet. Tries to stay by your side as a supportive pillar, regardless of how well or not he might actually be able to hold you up.

Holding your hand, kissing your knuckles. Trading his fingers for a stress ball when you squeeze a little too hard (and then another stress ball, stronger this time, when the first one explodes in your fist after a couple minutes. It shocks both of you, but to his surprise, you start laughing).

He tenderly dabs the sweat off your forehead as the hours go by, keeping your hairs from pasting themselves to your face and neck. Staying nearby as a source of comfort, but not so close that you feel smothered by him - allowing you the space you need to wiggle around as you see fit.

Telling you stories to distract you, listening to your complaints and observations as his words become unable to mask the pain of your contractions. Doing his absolute best to bite back a fond grin as you breathlessly curse him for doing this to you.

I didn't mean it, you tell him, as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes wide and tearful with sorrow.

I know, he promises, leaning forward to press his lips to your dewy skin.

You sigh happily.

It's not for another couple hours that your baby finally decides to enter the world.

You're beyond exhausted, and Viktor is starting to get fidgety with his worry. Is it supposed to be taking this long? he wonders internally, keeping his questions to himself so as not to stress you out even more.

The midwives, to their credit, are incredibly skilled. Staying by your side throughout the whole process, carefully monitoring everything they need to in order to make sure you're healthy. That the baby is healthy. He knows that they would say something, if anything was truly wrong.

And when the little one finally arrives, she does so kicking and screaming, making an absolute ruckus in the quiet room. The door is shut tight, keeping the sounds of the busy establishment at bay, and the curtain is drawn for your privacy so no one can see in when the staff come and go.

But when your girl begins shouting her absolute displeasure into the air, Viktor swears he can hear some quiet clapping and cheering from the hallway. He doesn't know if it's for your success, or for something and someone else entirely - but for a moment, he likes to believe that there are some strangers out there who are happy for him.

They don't know his story, and they don't know yours - but they've heard a great cry from somewhere hidden and full of struggle. An all-encompassing wail that confirms the presence of life, shouting to the world I am here, I am alive, and I have absolutely no idea what's going on!

He doesn't know when the tears start trailing down his cheeks.

Perhaps it's when he first lays eyes on your girl, pink and cranky and a little bit squished. Putting up a fuss on your base chest, scrunching her little face up as you speak softly and tenderly to her.

Perhaps it's when one of the midwives hands him a very soft towel, instructing him on how to carefully pat away the blood and fluid still clinging to your child. His eyes growing wide when he oh so gently cleans her off to reveal more of her tiny features.

She's still new, and needs time to decompress (so to speak), but he stares at her with such rapture. Taking in every inch of her, burning her face into his mind so that he might never forget her. Ever.

She's still new, and yet he can already tell that she has your nose. And your lips. Your smile, he realizes, with a palpable joy spreading through his chest.

His tears eventually dry, if only so he's able to better see you and the newest member of your family. Laying kiss after kiss to whatever part of your skin he can reach. Stroking the tips of his fingers over your girl's hair - her tiny arms and shoulders, her chubby cheeks, the bridge of her nose and over her brows.

But some two hours later, when you're finally allowed to rest in your comfortable hospital bed: when your baby is now dry and fed and swaddled up happily in Viktor's arms?

The tears begin again.

Privately, in the dim of the room, while you snooze a couple feet away from him, he weeps. Silently, and without so much as a sniffle. He cannot stop the wetness that rolls down his face, even if he wanted to.

Your girl is finally relaxed, after her grand, dramatic entrance. On the edge of sleep, warm and with a full tummy, making funny little expression while she dozes.

Much to Viktor's delight, she has a head of fuzzy brown hair - dishevelled and sticking in every direction, not matter how the midwives had tried to tame it. It'll settle down in a few days, they'd promised. But he didn't care.

The wild mop on top of her head rivalled the chaos of his own. The same shade of chestnut, though perhaps less coarse in texture. Maybe it will grow to the same thickness eventually, he thinks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he imagines how much he's going to have to help her with it as she grows.

Brushing the inevitable tangles out with a soft brush. Pulling the strands back into braids so she can run around and play easier - or maybe little buns on the top of her head, he realizes, the image conjuring up in his mind.

All at once, pictures pop through his head, so vivid and bright that he can almost see them appearing in front of him.

Watching your daughter grow. Sleepless nights of taking care of her, catering to her every whim. Making sure she's fed, and comfortable - entertaining her with silly little toys that make silly little noises, bright colours painted across them. Reading her books with bright, enticing visuals for her to stare at, despite the fact that she doesn't know what words are.

Making trinkets for her as she gets a little older. Things that help her learn, but that also keep her excited and enticed, encouraging her exploration of the world around her. Teaching her to walk, by helping her strengthen her little legs. Sitting on a footstool, a wide smile on his face, as you hold her by her arms and support her as she figures out how to use her legs while upright. Leading her right over into his waiting arms.

Until she's able to balance on her own, after a number of weeks of practising together. Pushing herself up into a wobbly stance, doing her absolute best to try and balance. Maybe she stumbles a couple of times, but she's persistent -stubborn, like he is- and continuously rises back up until she's able to make it over to him on her own. Giggling and wiggling when he scoops her up and praises her and showers he in affection.

Teaching her about anything and everything, the bigger she gets. Answering every question she has, no matter how confusing or senseless - encouraging with his own suggestions, and prompting her to discover some answers for herself. Putting together little experiments for her, so they can learn together and so he can watch her eyes widen with the joy of new information.

Fixing her toys for her whenever they break, as she brings them to him with misty eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Papa, it fell apart, she says sadly. To which he pulls her onto his lap, regardless of what work he was doing, and helps her repair the damage. Letting her watch and observe when she's still too small to hold a screwdriver, and carefully explaining things to her when her motor skills start to develop more.

And then helping her figure out in what way her toy broke, when she's a little bigger. Asking specific questions, so she can work to connect all the dots herself. Helping her gather the materials that she needs in order to fix things herself, and praising her to the high heavens when she presents the finished product to him.

The little thing is slightly lopsided, but he fully believes that it adds to its charm - tells her as such, when she sighs about it not being the same as before.

It's a little uneven, just like me, he says, with a laugh.

And, much to his complete shock, she wraps her little arms around him, and gives him her strongest possible squeeze.

It adds to your charm, she parrots back to him with complete honesty. I like you, Papa.

And once again, for the umpteenth time throughout his daughter's life, his eyes well with tears and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

She could go anywhere she wanted, once she grew up. Learn anything, do anything, be anything. Perhaps she'd enjoy the sciences, like he does - machinery, and building, and designing, and inventing. Maybe she'd get into art, and spend her days painting or sketching, or writing, or making music - inspiring other people with the things she makes.

It doesn't matter, though. Because no matter what she ends up enjoying, or where she goes in her life, Viktor will support her with his entirety. Even when she grows all the way up, and inevitably leaves home to begin her own life, whatever that may be.

He knows he's going to cry then, too. So many years together, and yet it will still never be enough.

But for now, he sighs, staring adoringly down at the tiny infant in his arms. For now, they have time. He vows silently to never waste a single moment with her, and never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. No matter how busy or frustrated or tired he gets, he won't let her grow up feeling unwanted or unloved or unimportant.

He'll give her a better life than he grew up with, and that is both a promise and a threat.

After all, he would do anything, for her.

His greatest creation.

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #viktor headcanons #viktor blurb #viktor reader insert #arcane reader insert #i am slowly rising from the dead whoops

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talaok · 1 year ago

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I was thinking about the reader having a close guy friend who has a crush on her and it makes pedro jealous and angry that why the reader can't realize it?

pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

warnings: angst, jealousy

"You know, I was thinking that tomorrow we could go to that sushi place you like" Pedro called from the bathroom, as he finished brushing his teeth.

You smiled to yourself as you got into bed before remembering something.

"Tomorrow?" you asked

"yes" He nodded, walking into the bedroom "We haven't gone there in a while"

"It's just...Steve asked me to go out with him tomorrow"

Even if he was turned around, you could see all his muscles tense.

"Steve?"

"yeah," you confirmed, "maybe we could go out the day after tomorrow?"

"Just the two of you?" He ignored your proposal, finally facing you

The question confused you a little bit

"Yup, he said we haven't seen each other in a while and he missed me"

"of course" he chuckled, a trace of bitterness in his tone

"What?" you frowned

"Nothing I'm just wondering if he'll finally use this opportunity to propose"

"What are you talking about baby?"

"oh c'mon you know"

"no, I don't know"

He was looking at you as if you had just admitted to not knowing how much 2+2 is.

"y/n listen as much as I'd like to believe you, I know you're way too smart not to know what I'm talking about"

You threw your blanket off your body, suddenly hot.

"Pedro" you stated as calmly as you could "I'm telling you, I have no idea what you're trying to say"

"oh really?" he raised his eyebrows, "you don't know? You don't know why I don't like when you hang out with the same guy who has not missed a single opportunity to tell you how beautiful or amazing or perfect you are? Who texts you 24/7? Who literally comes running whenever you need anything?"

Your mouth was parted but you needed a moment to process his words before being able to come up with some of your own.

"What are talking about?"

He sighed frustratedly, running a hand through his hair

"I'm talking about the fact that he likes you! That he- actually you know what, I'm talking about the fact that he's in love with you y/n!"

And there it was

It was as if time had stilled, as if the world had stopped spinning.

Why was he getting so angry about this? How long had he been keeping this to himself?

And most importantly-what the actual fuck was he on about?

"Steve is my friend Pedro- I've known him for like six years, just cause he's a good friend doesn't mean he likes me" you sighed "Since when do you get jealous? This is not like you"

"are you serious?" he dropped his hands by his sides "You seriously don't fucking see it?"

"what? What is there to see?" you gestured, getting up from the bed

"y/n he gave you roses on valentines day!" he huffed a laugh raising his head to the ceiling "What friend does that?"

"that-that doesn't mean anything it was just a nice gesture it didn't mean anything"

"of course" he paused a moment before looking at you again, so many emotions clouding his eyes they almost looked a different color "y/n I don't know if you're lying to yourself or if you actually don't see it, but I'm telling you- he likes you"

"wh-" you stuttered, unable to do anything but beg your brain to start working again.

"he looks at you like your an angel sent from heaven y/n" he sighed "and you are, you know that, but I'm the only one who's supposed to feel that way" he said "not- not fucking Steve too"

"he-he's just a friend" you muttered,

you didn't know if you were telling yourself or him anymore

"I know he is" he nodded "but I also know that's not everything he wants to be"

"how-how would you know?"

"Because I'm not blind, baby!" he insisted, getting closer to you "because I would bet a million dollars that if you called him right now and told him you liked him he'd come running!"

"that's not true! We're just friends- he- he doesn't like me that way"

"y/n c'mon!" he groaned "How do you think it makes me feel? To see him drooling over my girlfriend every time we go out?"

"Pedro he doesn't like me!"

"He does! And I'm tired of pretending he doesn't" Frustration was tracing his every word "He needs to get a fucking grip, Someone needs to tell him how things actually are, and if you don't wanna do it then I gladly will"

"what do you even mean?"

"I mean telling him to back off!"

"Pedro I-"

"please-" he stopped you, his voice lower now, more pleading "please don't tell me again that he doesn't like you"

"but-"

"ok how 'bout this" he interrupted you again, "You ask him"

"What?"

"yeah, if you're so sure he doesn't like you why not just ask him?"

"Because... because it's weird"

"it's not weird- and if he's an honest man he'll tell you the truth"

You stared at him

Was he serious?

"Are you being serious?"

"one hundred percent" he nodded "Tomorrow" he stated, "you ask him, and I'm coming too"

"you're not coming"

He cocked an eyebrow "I'll be outside, I don't want him trying any weird shit"

"Pedro..."

"I just- I'm tired of it y/n"

You sighed "fine" before sitting back on the bed, feeling all your energy drained.

He sat beside you after a moment

"How long have you kept this to yourself?" you finally broke the silence, turning to him just to find his gaze already on you.

"Since I met him"

"Pedro...that was 2 years ago"

"I know"

You paused, again

"You know that I would never cheat on you, right?"

"of course I do" he sighed "It's just- him... I don't like him"

You let out a small laugh "Yeah, I gathered"

"I can't help it" he murmured, his hand going to stroke your cheek "There can only be one man all over you" he smiled a lazy smile "and luckily... that man happens to be me"

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wayfayrr · 1 year ago

Text

My love mine all mine

Continuation of I bet on losing dogs

It's my birthday so that means I get to treat myself by writing a continuation of my Roman Empire fic <3

It's a reverse Isekai but this time it's post the event that caused him to isekai, and he's got a bit more to deal with now - but he'll be fine because he's by your side, and he won't let anything change that there is so much lore going into this fic, so there might be more to come in this saga yet :3c

[masterlist]

I’m still here?

No - no I’m not in Hyrule now, something feels different enough that I know that. If I was still in Hyrule then that ‘sky’ would be here if I wasn’t hallucinating him. Besides that though, something feels different, I’m not in as much pain although everything feels heavier. Almost - no don’t get your hopes up yet link.

Moving still takes a painful amount of effort, like my wounds are still there but now everything suddenly weighs triple on top of those. It was the shift from feeling floaty and detached to suddenly being forced back into a body, one that doesn’t feel like my own, that makes everything feel so undeniably real. Now it’s just a matter of opening my eyes to see what’s actually happened to me.

The room I’m in looks so similar to [name’s] when we ended up here one time chasing the shadow, from what I can see lying down like this anyway. Don’t get your hopes up until you see them link. There’s a blanket over me too, the very same that they lent to me the first time I was here; the feeling of it over me makes it the fact that I can’t barely move somewhat more bearable as I let out a low groan. Which seemed to almost summon the person who’s probably responsible for taking me in.

“[Na]-”

“link what the FUCK did you do?”

Wait, what do they me-

“how the HELL do I have memories of you being my best friend growing up now - I know I met you for the first time in hyrule. you aren't supposed to exist as a person here and yet.”

“[name] I don't -”

“I have the most vivid memory of everything. including having to pick you and sky up passed out on the street because apparently the two of you decided to go out on a bender or something - I don't know but I can remember it somehow.”

That rant seems to have cooled them off for now, not that they're mad just concerned… not that I'm not also. Those memories they mentioned too, I know what they're talking about; it's trippy. I have two sets of my life, one that I know is true and this other one that feels like a learned lie. A cover up. It feels similar to a backstory I learned to lie during espionage, but it's information about [name’s] world. Memories of a whole life lived here, like it's preparing me… or trying to adjust something new being forced into it that shouldn't be here.

“I don't - I think it's cause… I. You said sky is here too?”

“Yeah, he's the reason I'm so certain these memories aren't real, he only got included when I found him when I went out to buy supplies for you. Something feels off about all of this, and I think you two have the answers I need.”

Did sky..? No he wouldn't have. Would he?

“I think so too.”

“Can you tell me what you think it was?”

My voice is dead in my throat, I can't tell them what I did. They'll lose any respect they had for me won't they? I don't even know for certain if sky did the same… but I could have sworn he was there when I - I…He wouldn't have done that to himself, surely not. Even though I could've said the same for myself before everything.

“I… would prefer not to, if that's alright.”

“Okay link, I won't push you. Either way, it's nice to be back at your side even if it's slightly different than what I'm used to.”

That's all it takes to finally break my guard and for the tears to start flowing. I can finally rest, there isn’t any expectation of me here, no pressure to be the picture-perfect hero, no nothing. I can just exist here with my lover for the rest of our lives.

“Can you tell me why everything feels so different now though?”

“Link, haven’t you been able to tell? You aren’t a Hylian anymore. Whatever you did, you’re a human now and you've got a whole recorded history here on earth. You and sky both. Speaking of him, he’s downstairs helping himself to stuff; been awake a lot longer than you have, should probably go check on him really. You feeling alright enough to come with me?”

Moving my limbs still feels different but now it isn’t impossible to move them and seeing the smile on [name’s] face from me just sitting up to move is more than worth the slight discomfort. Falling into their open arms is just another perk of it, being helped to my feet whilst being allowed to cling to them? It’s a dream come true. But despite this there’s something that doesn’t feel right, why is sky here… I’ll have to ask him myself.

“S- why are you drinking all of my milk straight from the bottle sky?”

“...Wanna get drunk.”

“It's milk. You’re never going to get drunk off of drinking milk.”

With the two of them distracted by each other, [name] still letting me cling to their arm thankfully, I get a proper look at him. It’s sky, it’s really sky, but he’s human. All of his scars are the same asides from a new one on his neck and a few burns on his hands ones that look like they come from holding a sword. Fi must have tried to stop him. The strangest thing is seeing him with short rounded ears though - I can’t imagine what I look like to him. This has to be the first time I’ve seen him trying so desperately to get drunk though, he saw you do it. He’s drinking to forget, like you have so many times in the past.

“What do you mean of course I will. Why do you think milk bars were so popular in hyrule?”

“But you aren’t hylian now sky. You’re a human now, and we don’t get drunk from milk.”

“You - we… don’t? Ah. Well. That explains a lot of things then.”

“Did everyone think that I was an addict? Oh my, that explains the ‘interventions’ each of you had with me. Even my boyfriends thought I was an alcoholic.”

The sigh they let out before resting their head against me could make me an addict, as ironic as that is. Although that does bring up the question of how everything is going to be so different now, we’re going to have to relearn a lot of what we’ve always known as fact. But it’ll be by [name’s] side. And I’ll do anything to keep it this way.

#I'm another year older now <3 #and holy shit I've been writing lu for nearly a year #WOW #anyway #yan wars my beloved #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #linked universe x reader #yandere link #lu warriors x reader #lu sky x reader #moss✦writes

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rottenstrawberrymilk · 10 months ago

Text

rhys strongfork x reader

9.1k words

“God, you’re the best,” Rhys says with a sigh. “Hey, you say the word and I’m here bossman. Anything you want or need, I’m on it. It’s the least I can do.” Zer0 eyes you from across the office. Or at least, you think he is. You’re still adjusting to the faceless mysterious thing that hangs around Rhys all the time. He probably still suspects you. Were you being suspicious? You suppose you’d gone out of your way to be especially good for Rhys and earn his favor. After all, if you had betrayed Maliwan to defect over to Atlas, what was to stop you from betraying Atlas as well? You didn’t exactly start here with a shiny clean record. But Rhys had been so kind and merciful, taking you in, giving you a decent position like this. You just want to express your gratitude anyway you can. Chances are his decision to let you into Atlas had saved your life. Thus, you figure you owe him every breath in your body. And a bagel. Anytime he wanted it. You don't think you'll ever repay your debt to him, and you don't think you want to either.

You think you could be happy here, at Atlas. And that's not something you imagined thinking about any one of the soul sucking greedy corporations that had their eyes on the planets in this system.

As you turn to walk out the room, attending to some other business you'd been assigned, Rhys's eyes follow you. Zer0's head tilts ever so slightly towards Rhys. He heaves a bit of a sigh, regarding the bagel on his desk. And you remembered the cream cheese he likes. He wonders if he's about to make a mistake. I mean, how could someone as nice as you possibly stab him in the back? He looks back up at Zer0, and the assassin just gives a curt nod.

Just do it. Gotta find out one way or another.

Rhys nods as well, before sinking down low into his chair and burying his face in his hands. If this is the right, smart thing to do, why does he feel so goddamn guilty about it? He finds himself wishing he was more like the other CEOs. Ruthless, calculating, business first, success first, able to actually watch their ass. Willing to do whatever it takes to hold onto that seat of power. But then he finds himself wondering how those men live like that, on the edge, suspicious of everyone, so sure death was seeking them out at every turn. It had to be miserable, right?

Meanwhile, you were making your way down a hall. Rhys said he'd wanted you to go check on the new maintenance guys and see how they were adjusting, and then report back to him personally. You don't mind having to run around headquarters all day, it's good exercise and you feel productive. It doesn't feel like he's just giving you busy work either, he's just having you act socially in his stead. The guy can't be in seven places at once, although you bet he wishes he was. He's never been a micromanaging type, but he is a bit of a chatterbox.

Suddenly, a firm hand grabs your shoulder, shoving you up against a wall. Momentarily, you're winded, gasping out, as the razor sharp tip of a sword presses lightly to the center of your throat. Zer0 suddenly appears out of thing air. Confusion is obvious on your face, but it's not enough to fool him so easily. Anyone, traitor or not, would have been shocked getting caught off guard like that.

"Talk," Zer0 commands. If it's not elaborate haikus, it's equally cryptic one word sentences.

You shift a little under his grip and his fingers tighten, to the point where you know he'll leave bruises. You wonder what the fuck is going on. Best communicate that.

"I don't...what the hell are you doing?" you ask, sounding less outraged and more afraid. Good, Zer0 can use that. It should make this all easier.

"You are still very new./ Where do your loyalties lie?/ Tell me the real truth."

Your brows furrow. "My...my loyalties?" you repeat back, a bit dumbfounded.

Are you being interrogated right now? Was Zer0 that suspicious of you this entire time? You couldn't get a read on the guy no matter what, even back when you'd first joined Atlas (at Rhys's own suggestion). You know it's his job to protect the CEO, and you figured he'd do it whether he was contracted or not, but what threat could you possibly pose to Rhys? You feel a bit stupid for not immediately jumping to your history--even if it had been months ago and the majority of the conflict and siege had settled, that didn't change how long you had worked for Maliwan before coming to Promothea. It didn't matter if it had been against your will to be sent here to fight, to die, for Maliwan's cause. All that mattered was that you had been initially taking orders from Katagawa Jr.

You take in a shaky breath, heart still racing in your chest. The sword point remains steady. It pricks at your skin, already warning you for taking such a long, rather suspicious silence. The visor hiding his face is blank. No stupid little emoticons, no text, just black. You can see your own terrified reflection in it. You don't know what to do other than to tell the truth, just like Zer0 had demanded. But what if he still didn't believe you? Doesn't matter. You come to realize you don't have a choice. You force your voice to be steady.

“I’m loyal to Rhys,” you say, jaw set. “I owe that man my life.” Rhys, not Atlas, Zer0 notes. He’s not sure how to feel about that yet. Slowly, he leans a little ways back. He steps away, giving you some personal space back. And the sword withdraws from your throat. Silently, Zer0 sheathes the sword over his shoulder, and the blade fades away into nothing. You know it will only be a few moments before he does the same. He lifts a gloved hand, holding up a stern finger. “Please do not forget/ I am always watching you/ do not fuck this up.” You know you could have not replied at all. You could have just looked away and let this nightmare of an interaction be over. But heart pounding in your chest, you can't help but give a response. “I won’t. Second chances don’t come around often.”

Zer0 regards you for a moment longer. Then, he vanishes. Creepy...you'll never get used to that. You take a moment to stand there, unsure if he's gone or if he's going to continue tailing you for longer, just to double check. All he'd be affirming is that you were telling the truth if he did that. You think about going straight back to Rhys's office and telling him what had just happened. But you remember he'd given you an assignment to do. As shitty as all this was...the least you can do is get that done before returning. Rhys should know Zer0 is suspicious of you. But he'd also asked about the new maintenance staff's adjustment, and that's important too when it comes to rebuilding and cleaning up some of the HQ.

A sigh leaves you before you resume the direction you'd initially been headed in. Lucky for you, the new maintenance guys seem pretty capable. It's not that you didn't trust Rhys's judgement in hiring (after all, he'd brought you on as some extra help), it's just...things had been hectic and desperate, and his priority had been to replace the former staff which had mysteriously vanished. Rhys said he knew nothing about it, and then mentioned there were no bodies, before promptly cutting off his ECHO device and never speaking of it again. None of your business, and frankly you're not nearly nosy enough to care.

You tried not to seem like your mind was elsewhere, still shaken from the encounter with Zer0. Instead, you politely smile and nod along to whatever the new guys are saying.

"Uh huh...well, good to see you guys are so eager to get started. The CEO decided to have some of the Crimson Lance join you guys as bodyguards. They'll make sure you're safe while you sweep headquarters, uh, no pun intended. Not all of Maliwan has been booted out yet."

They nod, murmuring their thanks.

"Great, the boys should be up here any minute. Feel free to mingle. Rhys wants the overall sweep done by about six. You can come back here and report the damages and body count to me and I'll pass it up to the big guy upstairs."

Rhys had always instructed you not to be too formal. He said it "ruined the vibe" he was going for. It was odd, you've never worked for a company that was purposefully attempt to maintain such a lax attitude. Especially right after an attempted invasion, takeover, and then additional total destruction attempt by Katagawa Jr. But if he said he wanted it done a certain way, you were going to make sure you adhered to his preference. The little voice in your head once again reminds you with a guilty twinge that it was the least you could do. It still felt weird to drop all the "sir"'s and formalities after years of having to do it at Maliwan.

You wonder if a company with that kind of hierarchy could last long against the other ruthless giants. With Hyperion gone, Dahl still getting back up on their feet from when Hyperion had initially come to power, there's once again a central power void waiting to be filled. Could Atlas actually do it? If Rhys could genuinely return Atlas to it's former glory, that would be incredible. You don't know if it's possible for mega corporations that primarily compete in the gun market to ever reach peaceful agreements, but you certainly believe Rhys might be able to pave the way to that new frontier.

Then again...he has his own shortcomings.

You hadn't known him long, at least, not before he became a CEO. But you're aware of his weaknesses. One of them, maybe being that his pet assassin slash bodyguard seemed to be allowed to free roam and terrorize whoever he wanted on a whim of suspicion...okay that one might have been a little personal. But, you've got the report and gave your little speech to the new maintenance team, so now you have time to go and talk to Rhys. You can communicate those feelings and hurt instead of letting it rot you inside, like you would have done at Maliwan. You still can't help but feel bitter, almost automatically in a bad mood whenever you're reminded of working for them...

Goddamn Zer0.

Of course it's not fair for you to be allowed to forget. Not with all the destruction and innocent lives Maliwan had cost Promethea. And you'd been on the payroll. You try not to fall too far into your own head as you turn away and head back to the elevator that ascended to Rhys's office. It's an uncomfortable wait, and an even worse silence. Usually, you stop to gaze a little at the massive aquariums lining the way to the CEO's office. But this is urgent.

Rhys looks up from his desk at you and smiles, although you feel like there's something...wrong.

You practice some restraint, and decide to give him that report on maintenance first.

"So yeah..."

Rhys pushes his chin into his hand. "I hope they don't find too much damage. I gotta be even more on top of it with the finances around here, what with how I'm gonna have to rebuild the city too. Or bodies," he gives a nervous laugh, "hope they find even less of those. Identifying, funerals, cremations, burials, finding the families, it gets pricey y'know?"

Right...that was the other thing about him. While he's not nearly as bad as the other CEO's you've heard about in your lifetime (you heard Handsome Jack was a total monster), Rhys can be a little callous at times. CEOs generally seem to have a disconnect between themselves and everyone else lower in the company. A special kind of corporate breed of lacking empathy that can be a bit disturbing. His isn't especially awful but...you worry. You hope he can keep himself on the right path.

At your lack of response, he shifts a little in his chair. "You...uh...are you alright, (Y/N)?" he suddenly asks.

Your eyes won't meet his. "Can we talk? Privately."

Rhys wonders if it's the smartest idea to grant that request. He knows Zer0 is in the office right now, being weird and invisible as usual. They're a great bodyguard, but Rhys sometimes feels a little nutty talking to thin air whenever Zer0 doesn't feel like uncloaking. The presence is usually comforting but...

You won't even look at him now? Uh oh...

Fix this, Rhys, fix this, come on... he tells himself.

"Yeah, totally, of course." He turns in his chair, to a corner he hopes Zer0 is in.

Sometimes they like to hang out near the bookshelves or the couch. He clears his throat. Zer0 promptly reappears on the opposite side of the room, prompting Rhys to embarrassedly swivel his chair the other way. Had the bodyguard been trying to make him look stupid in front of you on purpose? Anxiously, he goes to check your face for a reaction, to see you judging him, or amused, or...or still staring at a wall, away from him. His heart sinks a little.

"Just for a minute or two, Zer0," Rhys calls after him, having a feeling he won't be too far away.

"Later, bro," Zer0 replies, walking out the office, still keeping himself visible.

If the assassin wanted to he could easily cloak and sneak back in. Which Rhys sincerely hopes they don't. Even though Zer0 had reported back that you'd only reaffirmed your loyalties to him, Rhys knew they still didn't trust you completely. Which is...fair. Anyone can say anything if they're under enough pressure. And he's seen Zer0 work enough to know how terrifying the guy can be. As well as unpredictable. As much as Rhys trusts them, it always seems like they're thinking eight steps ahead...freaky.

Rhys returns his attention on you.

You give a soft exhale, like you're preparing to say something you don't want to. "Look, while I was going to get that update on maintenance, uhm..." Zer0 had attacked you, basically, was the truth. But you decide to play things safe. Maybe it's just a misunderstanding. God knows, Zer0 does his job incredibly well, and this is probably just part of it--you don't want Rhys suddenly not trusting his own bodyguard.

"I...ran into Zer0. Well, they ran into me, more like it, but, whatever. And he-"

Rhys interrupts you. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I asked Zer0 to do that. I just had to be sure-“ Your eyes finally meet his. The crestfallen look descending on your face is heart wrenching. Like he'd just kicked a puppy in front of you or something. Rhys wonders if it wasn’t the right choice after all to ask Zer0 to check your loyalties, to make absolutely sure you could be trusted. But lord knows he wasn’t brave enough to do it, not scary enough to get the truth out of you like the assassin could. He also couldn’t bare the thought of pointing a weapon at you, whether you were a traitor or not. Ironic, considering he's in control of one of many powerful gun manufacturers. He just…he knows he has to be careful from now and into the future. The bigger Atlas gets, the more enemies he makes. The Maliwan invasion had been a very quick, brutal lesson in that. You try to hide the disappointment on your face. Your voice comes shaky.

He knew.

You suddenly feel very stupid for coming in here in the first place. You shouldn't have said anything at all. You should have just kept it to yourself and moved on with your life, with your job, with your career at Atlas. It would have ensured this awkward, sad, stupid conversation never had to take place. “Oh that’s…that’s okay I guess. I just thought…I mean you always told me the past is the past and it’s all behind me. That you didn’t care and that it was all behind me.” The hurt in your voice makes this so much harder for him. “I know, I know what I said,” Rhys said, looking stressed. He runs a hand through his hair. There's some gray streaks already beginning to form. Embarrassing considering he's only in his thirties. “But…I needed to be sure.”

Even though he knows this was all for his own safety, and this whole test was initially Zer0’s idea to begin with, Rhys feels bad. Like, really bad. He still gave his bodyguard the go ahead. He scratches at his mustache momentarily, trying to think of how he could… “I understand, Rhys” you say a bit softly. He notices that there's tears beginning to form in your eyes. He starts to talk again, but you cut him off. “No, I really get it. I mean…only a few months ago I was basically under Katagawa Jr.'s thumb. You don’t have any reason to really trust me. Not yet, anyways.” Bitter but true. And an insecurity that’d always clouded your mind at night before you fell asleep. Sometimes you still had nightmares of bullets flying past your head and people screaming and dying around you. But you’d always wake up, knowing things were different now. That instead of racing to the training field, you just had to race downtown to grab some coffee or froyo or a bagel or whatever the hell Rhys wanted that day before work. That Rhys was different, that Atlas was different from Maliwan. He’d promised you that you’d never have to hold a gun again— once again, ironic as Atlas is still another soulless weapons manufacturer. But Rhys had promised and that’d been good enough for you.

Rhys looked even more uncomfortable now. He wears his emotions on his face. Something your former, much more homicidal boss never did. You don't consider that one of his weaknesses at all. “But I do trust you,” he insists, “I mean— I sent Zer0, but it’s -it’s, God, it’s complicated. I trust you so much I had to just see if that trust was for real, does that make sense?” It really doesn’t. If he trusted you there’d be no reason to suspect you in the first place, in your opinion. It hurts. He sees that little heartbroken look on your face still isn’t gone, even after his super smooth save. The tears are still gathering in your eyes and you still won't look at him. If he can't fix this, it's gonna drive him up the wall for the rest of the day. “Y’know what? Dinner.” He claps his hands together, grabbing your attention with another awkward laugh and you swear you see a flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, let’s do dinner. On me. Food fixes everything, right? Best way to say 'sorry' ever.”

Could food fix a complete lapse in trust caused by his paranoia? He looks so earnestly at you, fingers still clasped together, almost like he’s begging you to say yes. Begging you to move past this with him and forgive this slight. Why not say yes? It couldn’t hurt. And it seems like it’s gonna make him feel way better than you would. Under any other circumstance you’d shoot this down. It's unprofessional to go out with your boss. It's wrong. It's not right to let him pay for your food. It's not rational to...to... The look on his face…he really does seem apologetic. You remind yourself that a boss like him is a rare thing during these times. You remind yourself that if there’s no Atlas, you’d be forced back to Maliwan or forced to try and make it on your own. Neither of those are options. You must have been thinking for a long time, because Rhys clears his throat and stands up from his desk. He approaches you, like he wants you to believe he trusts you not to snap and murder him. Because, hey, you used to be Maliwan, and that's all that you'd ever be to him-

“It’ll be super cas, no pressure at all,” he says, with another nervous breath of air, interrupting your rather horrible train of thought. “Uh, like a ‘yayy you’re not here to kill me’ thing.” “Alright. That sounds nice.” You smile at him but he feels like it’s not one of your real ones. It doesn't match the look in your glassy eyes. Was he shoving this onto you too fast?

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just wanna make it up to you-“ “Rhys,” you say, and he stops. “It’s okay. We’re cool.” You hold out a hand for him to take, in spite of your racing thoughts. He does, giving you a firm squeeze. His hands are always so warm. He lets go after a brief moment. He takes a moment to fix his tie, which only skews it worse. You have to sometimes wonder how a guy like him holds a position like this one, much less built the formerly dead company up all on his own. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” He says, and you nod.

“But the maintenance team," you start and Rhys puts his head in his hand.

"Right...right. Uh...seveenn?" he tries again.

To his relief, you give another validating nod that didn't make him feel as stupid and dumb as he felt initially. "Can I ask where we’re going?” “Nuh uh. Ruins my surprise. You gotta tr-“ He pauses. “Uh you’ll like it, okay?” You give a light, exasperated shake of your head. Rhys breathes a sigh of relief at the bit of playfulness and the tiniest smile on your face. Seven gives you enough time to get that report to Rhys and go home for a few minutes. But until then, you have a slew of other shit to busy yourself with that Zer0's approach had totally distracted you from. The least you could do was throw yourself into your work for the rest of the day. There are some times where you spend most of your day at Rhys's side, waiting for a command or for him to need something. There are other days where you're out and about, in the halls of headquarters, or the streets of the city. Regrettably, you're relieved that it's the ladder today.

“Don’t worry, I do trust you,” you call out half heartedly as you leave. Rhys wants to take one of the monitors off a nearby desk and smash it against his head. That couldn’t have gone any worse. ‘You gotta trust me’ seriously? After what he just did to you? A bit of a groan escapes him and he goes back to his desk to sit down. Hopefully he can wrestle a reservation out of the place he had in mind. He figures you’re just telling him what he wants to hear— you’re a good employee like that. But before this all, you probably would have told him the truth. That dinner won’t fix him betraying you like this. That it’s not gonna magically put down the metaphorical middle finger he’d just put up to the months of time his relationship with you was built around. To the hours you spent basically at his beck and call. Doing whatever he told you to without a question or second thought. You'd always given off the impression you thought he was brilliant. And that made Rhys feel good. He's worried you won't ever look at him again like that.

He drums his fingers on the desk, resting his chin and mouth in his hand again as he shuts his eyes.

On the bright side…he’d finally had the balls to ask you out. Part of the reason he’d wanted Zer0 to interrogate you was because he’d really wanted to try going out with you. Obviously, he hadn't exactly jumped to let Zer0 know that. He still had a personal life! He was allowed to do that! CEO or not! He opens his eyes and reaches to the photo of Sasha on his desk, suddenly feeling guilty, and goes to place it face down. But he hesitates. It’s…kinda lonely at the top. He feels it tenfold lately. And… well your smile had started kinda being the highlight of his day. Now he fears he's never gonna see the real thing ever again. She’d want him happy right? He pulls his hand away from the picture. There’s nothing wrong with this. There’s nothing wrong with a guy like him wanting a girl like you. Of course there’s that pesky power imbalance, the fact that he’s your boss could make this messy… But other CEOs just do whatever they want, right? They don’t think about any of this shit. Although he doesn’t like thinking back to his time at Hyperion, even he remembers Handsome Jack’s reputation for fucking just about anything that moved. Whatever he wanted, he got. That was why Rhys had begun to admire him in the first place.

Rhys rubs at his eyes. He doesn’t want to be like Jack though. Or Katagawa with that stupid ‘pleasure yacht’, or any other nutcase CEO. He doesn't want to just...just bend you over the desk and fuck you, like you're just something to use, he swears to himself it's not like that at all! It's more than lust that tortures him. He wants you to like him. So desperately bad. He knows you like having him as a boss, that you like his stupid little jokes, that you like his mustache (he'd asked you once to be sure), that you enjoyed his company. At least once you did. But he wants you to like like him. The same way he feels about you. But it’d have been dangerous to let you in so fast without knowing for sure that you weren’t Maliwan’s last hurrah in an attempt to end his life. That you weren’t some super secret cute seductress spy attempting to exact revenge for Katagawa Jr. He wondered if it’d be rude to ask what your relationship with the other CEO had been. After how well everything else had gone? Yeah, probably.

You'd been pretty low ranked in Maliwan, from what little you'd told him of it. He doubts that you'd ever received the high honor of boarding that stupid fucking pleasure yacht. He felt himself get a little angry still, at the notion of something he'd likely made up in his head and had no ground to stand on whatsoever.

“Should I follow you?/ She could still try to kill you./I know I would try.” Rhys jumps a little as Zer0’s voice comes out of thin air. He’d forgotten that he'd sent the bodyguard out. And he certainly hadn't noticed him sneaking back in. Well not, sneaking, more like just sauntered right back in, plain as day and Rhys had been so lost in his incredibly frustrating thoughts he hadn't noticed. It'd been...a smart choice to have Zer0 leave the room. He’d have felt worse having him skulk around all invisible. Chances were the assassin had already listened in. And Rhys was none the wiser. What a powerful ally…He finds himself grateful Zer0 is on his side, even if he doesn't quite know what the answer is.

“Ah, no,” Rhys says. “It’ll be alright. She’s not a Maliwan spy or anything— you heard it yourself.” Zer0 gives him a look that needs no verbal explanation. “I mean, you did interrogate her yourself. I don’t think she’d lie to you. Or me, as a matter of fact.” Zer0 just shrugs. “I will still come with./ I will be outside the place./ Your foes still draw breath.” Cool, a bodyguard outside the restaurant. And Rhys promises he’ll tell you too. Nothing but transparency from here on out! He can be better for you. Rhys wonders if it’s bordering on delusional to think he still has a chance with you after today. He’s reminded that you don’t have anywhere to go but Atlas. Anyone else would have breathed a sigh of relief at that security. But it only makes Rhys feel worse.

What if you’d only said yes because you couldn’t say anything else? He’d never wanted you to feel as if turning him down wasn’t an option. You had seemed pretty genuine in accepting the offer. But if he brought up the idea of dating…should he just hold off on that? But he thinks about what Zer0 said, that poetic stuff about his enemies still breathing. He does have people out there who want him dead. So if he’s gonna die, he’s gonna die like a man, dammit! And he’s gonna tell you how he feels because that’s the manly thing to do! Emotions are manly! Sharing them is manly! So why does he feel like he’s gonna throw up on his desk? Focus, Rhys, focus. The reservation hasn’t even been made yet.

He hopes you'll like the place he picked. That is if you don't find an excuse by the end of the workday to flake out on him. He knows he might do something like that if he was in your position. Several hundred feet down, in the heart of the building, you do your best to stay busy and keep your mind off...everything. Every time you feel dread begin to rise, you beat the feeling back down.

Free food. Free food. Free food. Free food.

The repetition doesn't seem to help.

When the end of the day comes, time forever marching forwards no matter how badly you wish it wouldn't, you find yourselves at another crossroads. Maintenance had come back with their report. You knew you could take it to Rhys in person, as you usually do. It wasn't a formal policy or anything, it's just something the two of you had always done. In a company so absorbed in technology, it was important to have a little human contact. However you feel your stomach drop at the idea of jumping back on the elevator and going to his office...seeing him again. It's such a ridiculous turmoil--you have to see him again anyways later on in the night. But you just don't feel ready yet.

You need some time to yourself. You need fifteen minutes to go home and cry on your bed, to get all the nasty horrible feelings chewing away at your insides out. Let yourself fall apart so you can string yourself back together, good as new. Then maybe, just maybe, you could handle dinner with Rhys. The last think you want to do is break down crying in public. It had been so hard to bite back the tears in his office, harder with every word out of his mouth.

You make the difficult choice just to forward the report to him via ECHO. If he asks any questions you'll just tell him you needed a little time to get home and get ready. Luckily, as you begin to head out the door alongside other Atlas employees, you don't receive any incoming calls from him. You wonder if he's up there, with that guilty dog-caught-eating-trash look, probably kicking himself for all this. It takes a lot of restraint not to turn around and go back into the building to check on him, like you've gotten so used to doing.

Maybe that's the worst part of today--is that you want to go crawling back. You want to sweep this under the rug, pretend like none of it happened, pretend like it's normal for someone you trust and maybe even love to do this to you. But you just can't. It'll take time. Or a way bigger gesture than dinner, you guess.

Dinner itself started off as awkward as you had imagined it to be. It's Rhys, so you figured there'd be a level of awkwardness whether what happened today had gone down or not. He still hadn't called you, to your relief, and had simply forwarded the address to the restaurant and the reservation time to your ECHO. You'd told yourself before leaving the house that if you really wanted to, you probably could have faked sick to get out of this or come up with some other brilliant excuse.

But you don't. You don't have the heart to stand him up like that.

Oh also he's the CEO of Atlas and probably the man with the most power on all of Promethea. You'd weighed the possibility of him doing something drastic if you didn't show. You...you don't think he's that kind of man. But after the little loyalty test with Zer0, you're no longer sure. You're uneasy. So if sitting down for a little dinner with him takes that horrible feeling away, you'd do it.

He gives a bit of a weak, quiet whistle, hands in his pockets, somehow confident and nervous all at the same time. "Wow," he'd said to you, looking you up and down in your different outfit. "You look, uh, you look great."

He gives you his signature 'ok' hand signal, a habit he'd formed lately. You'd just responded with a curt nod, still not sure what to say to him. You hate this. He hates this too. It feels like the two of you are strangers all over again. He's briefly reminded of your first week at Atlas, at his side. You'd rarely spoken to him, you couldn't look him in the eye, you flinched when he did speak, and everything you did, you did absolutely terrified. It'd taken half a month to get you to stop calling him sir, and even longer to convince you to address him as 'Rhys' rather than Mr. Strongfork. Was it gonna be like that again?

What the hell was he thinking...

He visibly seems to deflate, the smile flickering on his face. You feel bad for your coldness--it hadn't been purposeful.

You clear your throat. "Y-You look good too, Rhys. Beautiful, as always."

That seems to perk him up a little. That dumb smile of his slips back onto his face. "Y'think? Parted my hair different, see?"

You honestly can't tell the difference or if he's joking. But either way, you just nod again. Whatever, as long as that horrible ice is broken. It shouldn't be there in the first place. You painstakingly remind yourself that it's his fault it's there to begin with. He lead you over to a table, near the back of the restaurant, towards a large window that gave a rather nice view of the city. Well, what was left of it anyways. He has a lot to rebuild.

"This spot used to be the best in the house," he explains a bit awkwardly. "It's been a...a little bit since I've taken anyone here so I totally forgot that the city's, uh, destroyed--you ever been here before?"

He has this way of talking where every thought just goes straight to his mouth. Like you can follow his train of thought alongside him. That's why you'd trusted him so fast and warmed up to him so easily before. Now it makes you wonder how he'd been able to keep his plan a secret from you. Had he planned to do that to you for long? Or was it a spur of the moment Rhys thing?

Stop thinking about it.

He was waiting on a response.

You shake your head. "No. I haven't had the chance to check everything out here."

Rhys wants to kick himself. Right. You'd practically spent most of your adult life working under Maliwan. You'd only come to Promethea to begin with because that's where you'd been ordered to go. Hopefully a waiter comes soon and saves him from this. Or...he could just be honest with you and say sorry. He'd been pacing the office, already planning out an apology in his head. He'd even written it down on a piece of paper, of all things, and then had promptly crumpled it up and threw it out. There's...there's a lot he wants to say to you and he doesn't have a clue where to start.

You watch Rhys call over a waiter with a rather brisk gesture that suggests the conversation is just as uncomfortable for him. Quietly, you put your order in. He orders wine-- a nice bottle from what little you know about fineries. You hadn't really imagined him to be a big drinker. He must be nervous.

"You can have some too. Obviously. As much as you want. My treat."

"Thanks," you say a bit blankly, finding your gaze wandering somewhere out the window.

He can wait for the alcohol to loosen him up a bit. To give him the courage to say what he need to. But he wonders if that might come across as inauthentic. If you'll think it's just the wine talking for him.

Fuck it.

"Look," he says with a heavy sigh, regaining your attention.

With your eyes on him, he's suddenly ten times more reluctant to continue. But he sets his jaw, he sits up straighter. His hand, the organic one, reaches across the table, in an attempt to mimic your forgiving gesture in his office earlier. You stare at it for a moment and Rhys heart stops in his chest. But then, gingerly, your arm lifts, and your place your hand in his. His fingers come to tighten around yours.

"I'm gonna be honest. No more lying, or hiding things from you. So I'll start by telling you that Zer0 is outside the building."

He waits for you to snatch your hand away, to stand up outraged and storm away from the table, right back out the door. He feel him almost brace himself. But you don't move.

"I'll hear you out, Rhys," you say, voice still low. "But I'm not going to make any promises that I can just magically forgive you, or we can go back to how things were, no matter what you say. To be honest, I'm not even sure how I feel right now."

"Of course, of course," he says, just sounding happy you haven't stomped off yet. "But you deserve an apology. So here it is. I'm sorry, (Y/N). I really am. It was a mistake to ask Zer0 to interrogate you like that. It was a mistake to ever doubt your faith in Atlas, in me. I know you haven't been with me long, but I honestly don't know how I would have stayed sane lately without you around. You're..."

Your work at Atlas is important to me. Say that.

"You're important to me," Rhys says finally. "Which is why I couldn't risk losing you if Maliwan was still...well, y'know, in the picture."

You're quiet for a moment. His hand's warm around yours. You've made no motion to pull away.

"I have a question for you," you say.

"Yes, anything," Rhys says, practically halfway across the table, he's leaning in so intently.

"If I had been a traitor, er, a Maliwan spy...what would you have done?" The question had been burning in the back of your mind.

Rhys hadn't even stopped to think about that. Maybe it's because even when he gave Zer0 the order, he hadn't imagine Zer0 would come back with anything suggesting you actually were a traitor. That made him feel bad again. He should have trusted his gut...he shouldn't have questioned you.

"I...I'm not sure. I wouldn't have had Zer0 hurt you, if that's what you're thinking. I think..." What would he have done? "I think I would have tried to figure out why. Why you were still working with Maliwan. Wh-which you aren't! I know that! But I would have figured that maybe they were blackmailing you, or-or threatening to hurt you, or something."

Your head tilts. "Why?" For the first time that night your gaze meets his again and he feels relief thrum through him.

"Because I still wouldn't want to lose you," Rhys said firmly. He gives a bit of a laugh. "No, I wouldn't give you back to Maliwan that easily, c'mon now. Who'd bring me all my bagels with the extra cream cheese and coffee and whatever stupid thing I'm craving if you weren't around?"

Your shoulders also move in a bit of a laugh. You know that you do more for him than that. He knows it too. But he doesn't have to mention all that.

Rhy's thumb strokes over the back of your hand. "And...y'know when I first found you, hiding under my desk--which is where I was going, by the way--I figured...something tells me you were just as afraid as I was. Even if you'd been sent there to definitely kill me on sight. I don't think you'd secretly work for a corporation that scares you that much when there's a better option. Atlas is wayyy too nice to betray, right?"

You give him a half smile.

"Okay, Rhys, you don't have to keep going. That...hearing that makes me feel a little better," you admit.

Your chosen drink and Rhys's wine arrives at the table. When he offers you a glass as well, you accept almost immediately. His apology, although initially hard to start, seemed to set your mind more at peace. You seemed to relax more, especially after a few more glasses of wine. Before long, the two of you are laughing and talking like you used to, over various plates of food that he's pretty sure neither of you will finish. Leftovers...nice. His suite's pretty barebones when it comes to fridge content because of how busy he'd been lately.

He had not known before offering you as much wine as you wanted that you were a bit of a lightweight. He realizes when he signals for a check from the waiter that the night may get a little more interesting. Especially when you were hanging on his cybernetic arm, finally outside the restaurant. It's difficult to keep an eye on you, the to go bag, and trying to pin down a ride all at once.

He manages and makes sure you gets into the car safe first. As he settles down next to you with a sigh, he glances over at you. You already look half asleep. He'd hate to wake you up, you look so peaceful...He turns his head to give the driver instructions but finds his words stuck in his throat.

He realizes he has zero idea where you actually live. “Uh…..” Guess you could just come home with him? You’re practically asleep on his shoulder already, head leaned into the crook of his neck.

He tries to stay as quiet as he can for the ride over, not wanting to wake you until he absolutely has to. You naturally come out of it when the car rolls to a stop outside the building. You don't really ask any questions as he guides you in with him. Either you're too tired, or you don't care enough to ask what's going on. Rhys feels a glow in his chest. Which means maybe you trust him again...? For real? Not in the fake, amicable way from before?

Rhys shoulders open the door to his suite for you. He momentarily abandons the food from the restaurant on the marble countertop. He brings you to the first place he can think of, or at least the safest, the bedroom. Like you think it's your own room, you collapse onto the bed yourself, without any further prompting from him.

"Man, remind me not to go drinking with you," he mumbled, throwing some of the covers over you. "You get sleepy wayyyy too fast."

His response is just an unintelligible mumble. For a moment, he sits on the edge of the bed as you nuzzle into the pillow--his pillow. Somewhere in your mind, you wonder faintly why your bed smells like Rhys for some reason. His weight shifts, an attempt to leave. The couch in the living room is plenty comfortable. And so is his chair and his desk back in his office if he doesn't sleep well tonight.

He hears the covers shift. He feels your fingers suddenly wrap around his wrist, gently tugging him back to the bed.

“(Y/N),” he starts, but he sees the way your eyebrows furrow, like you’re in pain. Much different from the peaceful mini-nap you had been taking on his shoulder in the backseat of the car. “Please... don’t leave me here alone,” you say softly, eyes still shut. “I don’t... I don't wanna be alone.” He barely catches the last bit your slurring is so bad, but his mind quickly catches up and connects the dots. Slowly, Rhys settles back down onto the bed. You keep pulling at him and with a sigh, he gives in fully, laying down next to you. A bit clumsily, your arms wrap around him completely. He lays, flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, as your hand rests on his shoulder, arm splayed put over his chest. You’ve turned on your side, face pressed to his arm.

Rhys is careful not to move the entire night, although he can't help dozing off a few times. He doesn't even know how it's possible to do that with the way his heart is racing in his chest. This...this isn't usually what he has in mind during his weaker moments where he can't help but picture you here, on his bed, with him. He finds his hand reaching up to grasp yours on his shoulder, holding gently overtop. Not wanting to move and wake you up, he manages to turn off the lights, from the bed. The perks of keeping his cybernetics and ECHO eye in such a high tech city, he supposes. The curtains pull, as if compelled, completely shut, to block out any further intrusive light.

Was this professional by any means?

No.

But then again, he thinks, gazing down at you, ECHO eye allowing him to see slightly in the darkness... when has he ever really cared about professionalism?

When you eventually wake, you feel like you just had the best sleep of your entire life. No screaming no nightmares, no clench of fear in your chest, no waking in a cold sweat. Could have been the alcohol, but it also could have been that you're not alone in the bed-...Wait a minute, where the fuck are you? Your fingers are resting on something, someone else’s shoulder. Your heart seizes in your chest. The last thing you remember was drinking with Rhys…his apology…wait. Slowly and tentatively, in the pitch black room, your other hand, the one that had been placed on his chest slowly drifts up to touch over a cheek.

You bite the inside of your own cheek, letting your hand travel slightly down until you feel thick hair under your fingertips, and a soft upper lip—it’s definitely Rhys. What the fuck is wrong with you? You both get drunk and the first thing you do is fuck him?! Completely unprofessional. Would you even be able to look him in the eyes ever again after this?! This was the exact thing you'd always been trying to avoid in Maliwan. It was all too easy to sleep with a boss open enough to the idea and get an easy promotion through that--you'd always sworn you'd never be one of those girls, as lucky as they were. And you'd especially sworn to yourself that you wouldn't do that with Rhys, even if he was cute and funny in that weird way and-

Jesus Christ. You suddenly feel a warm hand grasp over yours, the non-mechanical one. Rhys moves your hand down, hesitating over his lips briefly, before he decides it’s safer to just hold it at his chest again. He’s still wearing his shirt from the night before. His tie isn't even undone. Which means…you think about all the various ways you could have had sex…which means absolutely nothing. But…your underwear is still in place and your dress is only askew because you had likely shifted in your sleep. It’s like he can read your mind. “We didn’t do anything,” Rhys says, voice a bit rough from just having woken up. “You just…I was gonna go sleep on the couch, but you said you didn’t wanna be alone.” Your face heats with embarrassment. You said that to him? “Oh…sorry. I just…” You trail off. Just because he'd been honest with you last night doesn't mean you owe him the same thing. You don’t want to tell him that every night when you go to sleep you have to relive Maliwan. You don’t want to let him know that there’s a personal hell waiting for you every time you close your eyes outside the workplace. You don't want- “Why don’t you wanna be alone?” Rhys finds himself asking, interrupting your quickly spiralling train of thought. “Maybe it was just a drunk thing but-“ “Every time I go to sleep I’m back, working for Maliwan, people dying all around me,” you find yourself confessing anyways, like you can't help it. Like you're possessed by some obligance. “It’s awful. I kinda thought it would stop after awhile but it…I dunno.” Rhys shifts a little. You think he might be looking at you. You see his pale blue ECHO eye glow a little in the darkness, fixed on you. “Did it help last night? I mean, me staying?” he asks. You nod. “Yeah. It did.” There’s really nothing else you can say to him.

You can't see it in the dark, but Rhys frowns. Every time you close your fucking eyes you’re back, in the middle of a battle, being shot at? Being miserable because of your former corporation? And it follow you even today? It still haunts you? And here he was making an assassin go interrogate you, thinking you were going to betray him and go back to Maliwan? He could not possibly feel sorry enough. He heaves a sigh, one that moves your hand on his chest with it. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I feel like even more of an idiot now. I had no idea-“ You shrug. “How could you? It’s not like I was sharing my dream journal with you over lunch.” You have a…? He realizes you’re just making a little joke. Awkwardly, he stays quiet for a few more moments. You feel him squeeze your hand a little tighter to his chest. “I…I wouldn’t mind if you did. I want that. Uh…” The mental health of my employees is very important to me! He could save himself now. He could bail on this whole stupid crush. He could keep this professional and just find someone else. But he just... can’t. “I really really like you, (Y/N). And you don’t have to say it back or pretend to like me to so you can keep your job. You’ll always have a home at Atlast, with me, no matter what your answer is.” You’re quiet for a few agonizing moments that feel like hours to Rhys with the way his heart is pumping. It's too early in the morning for this shit. At least he thinks it is. He actually has no idea what time it is. He feels you shift in bed, sitting up. Are you leaving? Already his heart begins to sink. He’s glad it’s dark in here so you can’t see how red he is. He breathes out a soft sigh, shutting his eyes momentarily. You see his ECHO eye’s light disappear. At least he’d finally said something. At least- He suddenly feels your lips at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry, I missed,” you murmur, a bit embarrassed. “It’s dark in here.” Rhys can’t help but take your chin in his hand, adjusting your position so he can kiss you fully on the lips. The first is light, experimental at most. The kind of thing you can wave off as a mistake and walk away from. The second kiss… not so much. It's passionate, deep, your lips moving against his, like you want him in his entirety. Such a desperate, lonesome kind of need...the nature of your feelings towards him becomes just a little clearer to Rhys right then.

He’s breathless when you pull away, chest rising and falling somewhat quickly. “So…I’m guessing that means you like me too?” He asks, a hopeful twinge in his voice.

You fall back into the mattress, at his side, hand still grasped in his. You have no intention of pulling it away. With a sigh, you respond. “You have no idea.”

#one shot #borderlands #rhys strongfork #rhys strongfork x reader

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barcalover86 · 1 year ago

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End of beginning

A never-ending friendship

Book

Chapter four

Your body suddenly can't move.

What the hell did you do last night?

Bia is still sleeping in bed with your new friends besides her, and you are the only one awake. You were trying to remember what happened after the game, but nothing was coming out of your mind.

You weren't that stupid to send him a n*de.. or were you?

But if that happened, someone would have stopped you. But on the other side, all of you were drunk and immature.

And if you really sent him a n*de of yourself , then it will be all over Internet. Just like the other photos of you two together.

You screwed up bad..

Finding the courage to open up his messages alone, not wanting to wake anyone up this early in the morning, you are even more shocked when you see his text.

Before you click on the photo he sent you, you read what he wrote you.

I am happy that you looked at the match, and I'm also sorry for the gossip that it's going around right now. I hope I didn't cause damage to your relationship.

Relationship? What relationship?

You were the one who thought that you made Gavi and his girlfriend break up. But he was thinking something completely untrue. You don't have a boyfriend and you never did.

Right now, you were trying to think who could be that boy he saw you with. But as you were trying to remember who he was, you suddenly realised that he also sent you a photo.

You opened your phone again, tapping to his account.

When you counted to three, you clicked on his photo, and your heart melted at his sight.

It was a selfie of him and Lewandowski, smiling at you. He also wrote on it that brought us good luck .

That? What that?

Now you begin to think again what picture could you have sent him to.

And if somehow it was a n*ude.. did he really show it to everyone else around him?

But you weren't the type of person to do that. Even when drunk. It just wasn't your personality.

So.. your photo brought him luck? You smiled a bit.

Oh, and then you realised that Gavi actually texted you. Well, you texted him first, but he replied.

And he was also having you at his following list. That's.. Nice. You smile once again.

"Bia, wake up!"

"Hm?"

"Gavi texted me!"

When everyone heard that, they all got up immediately.

"He did what?" asked Lucas.

"He texted me, look."

"Screenshot his photo," Bia said, and before you could stop her, Lucas already did a screenshot on your phone.

"What! No, now he's going to see it!!!!"

"And? It's better than not having the photo? I bet he made it by himself just for you."

You think about it. Maybe..

"Uhhh" you groaned, sitting on your bed. "Do I have to reply to him?"

"What's even with that question? Of course you have to!?"

"But what do I say?"

"Just, I don't know. Congrats on your win?" Liam says.

"But then he'll let her on seen." Laura interrupts. "It has to be something like, congrats to your win, you did amazing. How are you feeling after the game?"

"Of course he feels happy, they won?"

"Bia, I mean if he is tired or in good shape. Maybe he got injured, which I don't think so. He'll get the question, right, Lucas?"

He looks at her while thinking what to answer.

"Boys often misinterpret questions like that."

You nodded. "Then what do I say?"

"In my opinion, you should really add the congratulations part. It's important." Lucas says. "Boys like to feel important and appreciated.

"Ok, so first I'm saying congrats. After?"

Silence. Everyone is thinking.

"Should I go with something like I hope your training goes good today?"

"Ah, I don't know-"

"I got it!!!" Laura says. "Just reply to his photo with a photo and you can add there the text you want to say. He'll sure be curious on your photo."

"Yesss! That's it! But I have to be pretty. Everyone, help me!!"

They all helped you with a pretty outfit, your hair and makeup, and after about 1 hour, you were ready to take the picture.

Smiling widely, you sent a photo of you saying congratulations on your win, guys. you did amazing. visca barça.

Perfect. Now you wait.

..................................................................................

Today, waiting for his reply, you walked around Barcelona, chatting and laughing. You stopped near your friends' restaurant and started singing and dancing traditional Spanish songs until the L family was ready to close.

All the time you were looking at your phone, hoping for a text from Gavi who seemed like wouldn't come.

When you said your goodbyes, you and Bia went to drink something near your hotel. When you were talking about your future college, your phone buzzed, and you freezed.

"So??"

You look at her with a big smile.

"Gavi."

"I wanna see, I wanna see!"

Bia was whining just like a little kid, but you were also so excited to read his text.

Well, he sent you another photo.

He seemed like he was in a bedroom, assuming it was his, smiling into the camera and having his thumb up. He was adorable.

If you want more photos of me, tell me. You don't have to screenshot. Also, you didn't tell me about your boyfriend. Is he mad?

"He is definitely flirting with you!"

"I don't know.."

"Well he totally is. Reply to him."

You took a quick photo of you, with your orange juice on your hands, smiling sweetly.

I'm sorry about that. A friend of mine screenshoted it accidentally. And about my relationship, I don't know where that came from. I'm single.

After 5 minutes, he replied.

"Wow, y/n. He is quick. I told you he is into you!"

Now, it was a photo with half of his face saying my bad, sorry. so are you still asking for pictures?

You did a similar picture as he did last time, and wrote first of all, I didn't ask for any pictures, second of all wouldn't your girlfriend be upset that you are talking with me?

"Are you sure you want to send that?" Bia asked you.

"Well even if he is Pablo Gavi, if he has a girl at home, he has to right not talk to other girls."

After about 20 minutes, he replied.

The photo was again with half of his face saying that are u jealous, y/n?

You blushed hard.

"Ooooo, he is flirting with youu."

"Shut up, he is typing.:

"Let's get home. We can't stay here for another hour. We also have to look for colleges."

You nodded and while you were walking back to your hotel, you were looking intensely at your phone.

Right when he was about to send his text, your mom was calling you.

You groaned hard while Bia was laughing.

"Yes?"

"Hi, sweetheart. How are you?"

"Mama, I'm kinda busy. I'll call you later, ok?"

"Did something happen? Are you ok?"

"Yes, don't worry. We are heading to our hotel. I'll call you there, ok? Bye."

"Bye, don't forget to!"

After ending the call, you go to see what Gavi said.

You blushed even harder.

"Whatt???? I wanna see too."

Yes, I am a footballer, but I don't cheat. I don't have a girlfriend and I didn't have one recently either. I think you know a lot about me, but I just know your name. Wanna meet me tomorrow at 13 after my training to show you the museum from Camp Nou? I promise I won't steal you. Bring a friend if you want. I'll bring Fermin too.

"Say yes, say yes, say yes!"

"I don't know, Bia. I feel like it's happening too fast."

"It's the right time, trust me. When fo you want him to ask you out. A day before we return home? Say yes!"

You slowly nodded, accepting his offer." You'll come with me."

"You didn't have to ask." she says super excited.

See you then.

You replied.

He liked your message.

"Today we have to go shopping. We need new chlotes."

#fc barca #fc barcelona #football #pablo gavi #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #gavi #gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi x yn #gavi x you #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi imagine #boy pablo #pablo x reader #fermin lopez #pablo gavi x you

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ladykissingfish · 1 year ago

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*Tsunade and Jiraiya, having lunch together at Ichiraku Ramen* Jiraiya: So ... I think I might be in love with Orochimaru. Tsunade: Shit, I could have told you that. You stare at him with those stupid heart-eyes all the time. Jiraiya: Not funny, Tsuna! What do I do?! Tsunade: What do you mean, what do you do? Grow some balls and confess to him already! Jiraiya: Are you crazy? I can't just do that. He'd start laughing before I even got the words out! Tsunade: Oh, come on. Laugh? That guy is as serious as a heart attack; he never laughs at anything. But there IS a problem though. Jiraiya: What? Tsunade: You've made it no secret that you're a big lover of breasts. But Oro has none. Can you accept that? Jiraiya: Honestly, he doesn't need any. He has such soft skin, and beautiful long hair, and such gorgeous eyes ... but come on, he only sees me as some annoying pervert. Tsunade: You ARE some annoying pervert. Still, talk to him. Jiraiya: But -- Tsunade: Look, just go to him and tell him how you feel, then ask him out. The worst thing he can do is say No, and either way, at least you can stop wondering about it. Look, bring him a present, that'll soften him up a little. Jiraiya: A present? Okay, what kind of flowers do you think he'd like? Tsunade: No flowers, but, how about some nice hard-boiled eggs? Jiraiya: Seriously? Tsunade: Yes. That, and maybe stop off at a pet store and get a couple of mice. Jiraiya: M-mice? Why would I get -- Tsunade: *pushes him towards the exit* Go on, now, and remember what I said. Trust me, he'll love your gifts and you'll win him over for sure! *Jiraiya leaves, and after a few minutes Orochimaru comes in from the opposite side* Orochimaru: So? How did it go? Tsunade: I think I've arranged it so that not only will he be your boyfriend, but he should be providing you with some tasty snacks for the week. Orochimaru: Thank you, Tsunade. *pulls a piece of paper from his pocket* As per our deal, here's my observations from sitting in on Master Hiruzen's card game with the village elders. It lists their betting strategies, weaknesses and their tells. Tsunade: *takes the paper* Thanks! Now I can really clean house the next time I go to the gambling den! Old man Ichiraku, watching: I can't tell if I think you're very clever, or really, really sneaky people.

#jiraoro #jiraiya x orochimaru #team hiruzen #jiraiya #tsunade senju #orochimaru #boiled eggs and rodents ... the perfect snack

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clarkes-and-god · 3 months ago

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"So, how come Tobias hasn't moved to Evergreen Harbour at the same time as you and the kids?"

"He's just busy at the moment, he'll be with us soon."

"Is he working?"

"I mean, not exactly. it's kinda complicated."

"You don't have to explain if you don't want to."

"No, it's ok. The rest of the family knows and I guess you'd figure it out too. We put the kids in public school, which wasn't the best idea, looking back. Mandy said something to her teacher, and I think the teacher just made it into a bigger issue than it was. They sent a social worker to our house and he got mad because he thought they were gonna take the kids. So he punched the social worker, and they called the cops. Now he's in jail for six months."

"That sounds really stressful, hun. How have you been holding up?"

"I just think this wouldn't have happened if I had done better. If I had managed the money better and made it work then I'd never have had to get a job, so the kids wouldn't have been in school, and this wouldn't have happened. And Tobias is so sweet to me most of the time, I just say stupid stuff sometimes and it upsets him. People are gonna think he's a bad guy now he's in jail but he's really not."

"Yeah, I see how it could feel like that. I'm not trying to say anything bad about him, he is my brother, but you've gotta remember Tobias is an adult and you're not responsible for what he did. Punching that social worker was his choice, not yours."

"Huh, ok"

"And I think you're doing a great job. You've moved houses by yourself, to somewhere new where you don't know many people. You're working and you're caring for your four kids, and I bet that's hard even when Tobias is here. Not many people could manage all of that, I don't think I could."

"Really? That's nice of you to say. I just want everything to be better when he gets back, I think it'll be easier if it is. We were in a trailer when we lived in Brindleton, that's why I moved, so we could get an apartment. It's easier when the kids have more space."

"I see. It sounds like you've got a lot on your plate. If you ever need anything, me and Bowie would be happy to help you out. I work weird hours, I could look after the kids for a morning if you want. Or you could come over for dinner if that'd make things easier for you."

"Thanks, I'll think about it."

#cherish #miriam #fundie sims #quiverfull sims #fundie snark #fundie simblr #modest sims #satire #homeschool sims

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clubdionysus · 9 months ago

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[BAD DECISION #22] Listening to Jimin

warnings: new years eve is upon us and you know what that means!!!!! the arrival of the red witch!!! all three of jungkook girlies in one room!! lucky him!!!! the real question is which one is he kissing once the clock strikes 12?? heheheh

soundtrack: dont do that - leellamarz, toil

wc: 12.8k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

There are three fundamental rules to remember when dealing with a break-up, or so Jimin says.

The first is to always wear black.

"You never know what to expect," he says - though Jeongguk isn't sure about the validity of such a claim.

With every girl he's ever dated, he always anticipated the end, and always knew exactly how it would play out. He doesn't put this down to intuition, but rather to the fact he actually takes the time to get to know the girls he's dating.

Jimin, on the other hand, fails to consider such things. It's not that he doesn't get to know the girls he dates. He just doesn't really get how girls work.

"Black is your safest bet," he doubles down when he's met with a raised eyebrow from his housemate over a late breakfast a few days after Christmas.

Both home from visiting family, it had been Jimin who breached the subject of Jiyeong, knowing that Jeongguk tended to try and keep his problems tucked away, nice and neat.

"She cries? Mascara won't show. She throws a drink on you? Won't show. It's a win-win."

In all likelihood, he'll wear black regardless, but it's something to consider, at least.

Is he supposed to prepare a breakup outfit? No, surely not, he decides with a small shake of his head that goes unnoticed by Jimin.

"Alright then, hit me with rule number two."

Jimin grins as he sinks further into the sofa, pleased that Jeongguk is actually listening to him. As far as he's concerned, he has breaking hearts down to a fine art.

"Never - under any circumstances - send a 'we need to talk' text."

"But-"

"Never," he doubles down. "A we need to talk text means one thing and one thing only - she'll see what's coming from a mile away, and you need this to be a sting operation."

"Sorry?"

"Forgiven," he smirks, in typical Jimin fashion. "Nah, but seriously. If she catches wind of what you're gonna do, she'll get in there first. I've known girls like her, and I promise you - she'll end things before you get the chance."

"So?" Jeongguk asks as he gets to work slicing up the fruit that's been in the fridge for a little too long. It's not as pretty as it once was, but it needs eating, and there's nothing he likes more than starting the new year with a tidy and organised house.

"So?" he mimics, eyes on the television where he's watching a talk show he doesn't really care for. "My God , Jeongguk. Better to be the dumper than the dumpee."

Jeongguk thinks Jimin would be great on a talk show; always saying shit that holds no merit but with enough confidence, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was an expert.

"I don't think either is preferable," Jeongguk tells him - and he means it.

Ending things with Jiyeong is a necessity at this point. Not because of you, or residual feelings for Hayun, or anything like that - but for the fact he absolutely cannot stand her after she's had a few drinks.

She's pleasant, ever so nice, ever eager to please when she's sober, but the second a little tequila touches her lips? It's like another story.

Alcohol isn't for everyone. Working in a bar, Jeongguk has grown to learn this. He doesn't think she drinks too much - within a reasonable amount for any girl in her twenties - it's just that the chemicals in her brain seem to short-circuit. She gets jealous, and mean, and maybe it's his fault.

Maybe he could have been more attentive. Maybe his eyes do get distracted by the stars a little too often.

Sometimes, Jeongguk thinks it's okay; that maybe if he shifts her focus away from nights out and drinks over dinner, that it could work. Remove alcohol from the situation and it would be fine.

Thing is, his lifestyle is so heavily focused around it; Dionysus, nights out with the boys, his hopes for the future and the restaurant he so badly wants to open. It's always gonna be a factor of his future. Always gonna be a part of his lifestyle.

He doesn't want to argue for the rest of his life.

Doesn't want to attend Tae's art shows and worry that the free prosecco will end in a row over whether or not he spent enough time looking at her instead of the art.

Doesn't want to raise his glass for a toast at his wedding, only to go to bed without consummating the marriage because his new wife is in a huff over the hors d'oeuvres he'd insisted on during the planning stages of the big day.

Jeongguk works in difinitives. Thinks that dating is a test to see if you're compatible for long-term companionship. Knows that he and Jiyeong aren't . Doesn't wanna waste his time, nor hers.

"Well, no," Jimin admits as Jeongguk withdraws from his thoughts. "But in a lose-lose situation? Better to not be the biggest loser."

If he was being honest, Jimin would tell Jeongguk that he doesn't think this is a lose-lose situation at all. In fact, he thinks it's the best decision Jeongguk's made in a long time.

Jeongguk isn't so sure. Hasn't told you yet. Is a bit scared to do so. Worries you'll be disappointed. Knows he can't carry things on with another girl for your benefit, though.

Plus, he kind of wants Jiyeong to see it coming. Would make it far easier if she's the one to end things. Would alleviate some of the mental pressure.

"Final rule?" Jeongguk eventually sighs, knowing that Jimin won't change his stubborn ways of thinking, so he may as well hear him out.

"This one is the real kicker," Jimin acknowledges.

It's also the one that proves he does have a heart beneath the casanova exterior.

"It's the two-week rule," he explains, muting the TV and turning his body to face Jeongguk. He's still chopping up strawberries, using the board that suddenly appeared out of nowhere after Christmas. Jimin hasn't asked about it. Knows Yoongi made it, but that's all. "Birthdays, Christmas - big dates, you know the type. The week before and the week after them? You can't end it."

Jeongguk stops chopping. Looks up at Jimin. There's no smile on his face, just a little anguish in his round eyes, as if he's just found out Santa isn't real.

"What?" Jimin retorts. "That's the one I would have thought you already knew. It's common sense. You can't end things so close to a big event - especially if there's gift-giving involved."

"But-"

"Nope. It's a rule. New Year's counts, by the way," Jimin makes sure to add. "You gotta stick it out until the tail-end of January."

"According to who?"

"According to everyone who's ever had a relationship."

"But-"

"Really? This is the rule you're gonna argue against most? C'mon, Gguk."

The reality of the matter is that Jeongguk doesn't want to have to spend New Year's faking a smile and pretending like everything is fine, when it really feels like his head will implode at any given moment.

He glances over to the whiteboard by their fridge, which has a calendar marked out on it. It includes their schedules - Jeongguk's shifts, Tae's shows, Jimin's visits home, dinners at the Min's. Their lives are mapped out an enamel-coated sheet of steel, wiped away with a dry cloth every time the month changes.

In a couple of days, it will be time to start fresh again.

Jimin's been off work since Christmas eve, and won't be back in the office until the New Year.

Shift work makes Jeongguk's schedule a lot less predictable - but December 31st has been reserved for months now. As soon as December hit, Jimin had filled the entire space with bubble writing and explosive clouds. It's going to be big. It always is. His favourite night of the year.

Which is why, when he arrives home on the morning of New Year's Eve, snacks and drinks in hand for pregaming, he's confused that Jeongguk is nowhere to be seen.

There's been a change to the board, though.

DEC 31JK - work 6-12

~~~

They say that things tend to happen in threes, and - much like Jimin's rules for a break up - Yeonjun's already made three bets with Jeongguk by the time it hits 8PM on New Year's Eve.

The first? That he'll still be able to get a midnight kiss, even though he's behind the bar tonight.

"Don't even think about it," Jeongguk had warned, clear in his rules about not flirting with the punters too much - but Yeonjun is an insolent brat at the best of times.

He's also spent the last month or so sweet-talking Julia, a foreign exchange student who had picked up a couple of shifts a week to help tide her through, and that's where he's placing his bets.

Normally, Jeongguk would have noticed a flirtationship blossoming right beneath his nose. He's been so distracted lately, Yeonjun's been able to cross 'shag at work' off his bucket list without Jeongguk even suspecting a thing.

Even Jeongguk hasn't fucked anyone at work.

Yet .

Hair as blue as the off-brand curacao he's decanting into the 'real' bottles, Yeonjun is just as much of a menace as he always has been.

The second bet?

That Yeonjun can eat an entire lemon. Peel it, section it, eat it - like an orange or a clementine.

Jeongguk thinks he's joking - but Yeonjun's spunked away all of his money over the holidays, and needs to make up for it. Wins himself 50,000 won for that one. Also nearly has him head-first over the toilet, but that's neither here nor there.

The third and final bet?

Well, it's proven right at quarter past ten that evening.

Jeongguk is behind the bar, obscured by the club lights as the DJ plays an old song he's forgotten the name of. Knows all the words, but can't place it. Is so busy trying to figure it out, that he almost doesn't notice you arrive - but how can he not?

The lights quite literally reflect from you; your dress, your eyes, the glitter that adorns your skin. You've always been a disco ball personified, but never more so than right now.

You've not noticed him yet, too busy caught up in conversation with Danbi and Hoseok to pay him any attention. You're laughing, head thrown back, hand clutching onto Hoseok's shoulder to stop yourself from falling. Jeongguk can't hear your laugh, but he knows what it sounds like. Finds himself smiling, too.

"That'll be another 10,000," Yeonjun calls over to Jeongguk, and is met with a curt 'fuck off'.

A bet is a bet. Yeonjun is getting that 10,000, because he's right.

You do look more like a disco ball than ever before, just like Yeonjun prophesied you would.

Jeongguk always knew you would. It's why he rejected Yeonjun's first attempt at the bet - there was no way he'd willingly lose 50,000. Re-bet him at a much more sensible 10,000.

Unaware of the bet, and already a little too tipsy for your own good, you know that you've really outdone yourself. Know that if Seokjin happened to be at Dionysus - which he won't be - that he'd run for the hills.

Bleached hair growing out, glitter on every inch of your skin, dress as sparkly as the fireworks due to go off when the clocks strike twelve, you are everything he would have hated - which is exactly how you'd like to start the new year.

Jeongguk's grinning as you approach the bar. He's got a plastic cup in one hand, and the soft drink gun pouring from the other. Diet coke clouds into a puddle of vodka for some punter that Jeongguk barely gives a second thought to. He glances over to you, smile prevailing, cheeks almost a little pink, before his attention diverts back to the customer.

There are half a dozen people to serve before Jeongguk can get to you. Fairness is important, after all. Can't let you think you get priority over everyone else just 'cause you made him cum a couple of times. He doesn't stop smiling, mind you. Feels your gaze, and laughs to himself a little. Just can't help it.

When he finally makes time for you, you know you don't have long. It's busy.

He shouldn't be behind the bar.

He should be out having fun with you instead, you think. Or the boys. It doesn't matter. All that matters is him having a good time, regardless of who he's with.

"Didn't see you there," he tells you with a casual arrogance that makes your tipsy tummy feel all silly and ticklish. "Thought you were a disco ball for a moment."

He looks pretty today, hair tousled in that way he always does when he can't be bothered to style it properly. He's wearing a black button-up, but has left the top three of four buttons open. The top of his chest peeks out, chains layered and sitting handsomely against his skin. You're cursed with the knowledge of what he looks like without a shirt on, and a brain that doesn't know how to stop thinking about it.

It's at this point you realise it's going to be one of those nights.

You're only a few drinks in and already you're thinking that you'd really like to end your night with an orgasm - and unfortunately for you, you're well aware of how competently Jeongguk can give them.

You know he's off the cards as far as that's concerned, but for a harmless flirt? Well, what are friends for, if not that?

"Oh, really?" You beam, elbows resting on the bar, leaning a little closer so you can hear each other better. "Maybe I should take my dress off? Would that help?"

Jeongguk almost chokes on his own spit. You revel in the panic on his pretty features, all dainty and dewy and in need of a little glitter, you think.

He curses under his breath and shakes his head before he gets to work on a round of Purple Starfuckers, knowing that's what you'll be after.

"You're looking for trouble tonight, aren't you?" He asks as he sets the plastic shot glasses up in a row. Three. One for each of you.

"Not looking for anything," you assure him, and Jeongguk isn't sure why, but he's pleased with that answer. One less thing to worry about - though he does grab you a bottle of water from the cooler, regardless.

"Keep it with you," he says. "Big crowd tonight. It'll get hot."

You nod, eyes all doe-like and sincere in your thanks. Normally he just gives you a cup whenever you're at the bar, but he knows frequent visits will be harder tonight. Doesn't want you to be without water, should you need it.

He dips down again. Gets two more.

"Danbi and Hoseok," he simply states as he passes them over to you, indicating his intended recipients.

A mirrored backsplash runs behind the bar, allowing for you to watch Jeongguk as he works, even when his back is to you. There's a smile on his face, soft and serene, which drops a little when Yeonjun calls for his attention.

As Jeongguk turns, you notice a small spike of hair tufting up from the back of his head. It's most likely from falling asleep with damp hair after a shower, but it's so sweet you think you might be actually sick.

An enigma is Jeon Jeongguk; strong, brooding, broad. Tattoos etched into his skin, none of which you've asked the meaning of, and none of which he's elected to share. He's a mystery, all dark-eyed and chiselled-jawed, handsome without even trying.

And yet there are moments like these, when he's bright-eyed and bushy-tailed; jaw hanging a little lax, brows lifted to encourage Yeonjun to speak up. He's approachable; as kind as his smile is pretty.

He's everything your mother would tell you to stay away from, yet everything she'd encourage you to look for.

You suppose it doesn't really matter, either way. He's off the market, and you're not looking for any groceries, regardless.

There's no use squandering away one of your favourite friendships just because you have a pair of eyes and a functioning brain. Everyone thinks this way about Jeongguk. You're not the first person to notice he's a walking oxymoron - though when he lines up three extra shot glasses and begins to pour his signature drink into them, you realise he's arranged a dick-shaped formation, confirming that he might just be a moron, instead.

"Grow up," you laugh.

It's curious how sparkly his eyes always are in Dionysus. You think he has no right calling you a disco ball, when he's got a pair of them himself.

He checks his watch - silver, to match his chain - and sticks his bottom lip out as he reads it.

"Give it two hours and I'll be a year older," he teases, knowing full well the government abolished the traditional Korean ageing system, but not caring.

"Give it two hours and you'll still be an idiot," you reply, cheeks appled, glitter twinkling as lights reflect from the mirror and paint you in shades of magenta.

"Get your friends," he simply says, nodding towards them. "Drink up, or I'll make you pay for them, Disco Ball."

You don't mind it when he calls you this in the confines of Dionysus. It's nostalgic. Has you addressing him by the name you called him towards the start of your friendship, too.

"You spoil us, Star Fucker."

The irony of such a name isn't lost on Jeongguk. A Star Fucker is exactly what he is. Or was . Semantics.

He chooses not to reply to your statement, instead ushering you away. Tells you he's got people to serve. Says he's bored of you, but there's a smile etched into his cheeks as you wash down your shots. When you knock your head back, the glitter on your throat shines. It's decadant; irredescant.

And resting right where your collar bones meet, in the dainty little dip Jeongguk finds he likes a little too much?

A small silver bird.

He's so pleased to see it. Pleased , and a little shy and embarrassed that his affections for you are being displayed for all to see - but also a tiny bit smug, knowing that any fucker in the club who's drawn to your glitter will see evidence of him.

You aren't his, and he doesn't mean to think about it like that, but he likes that you've chosen to wear it. Likes that if somebody asks about it, you'll have to say, 'Oh, this? My friend Jeongguk got it for me.'

As you walk away, Jeongguk thinks you must leave a tail of fairy dust. He also thinks he needs his eyes testing whenever he's been looking at you for too long. Swears down he's got astigmatism.

You weave through the crowd with Danbi's hand in yours, and your other hand on Hoseok's waist, bottle of water tucked into your bag. As Hoseok guides you both to the centre of the crowd, you're reminded of why you like being absolutely shitfaced before dancing in clubs. The floor is sticky, and a non-descript soda-spirit drips down the back of your leg thanks to someone being too fucked to hold their cup properly.

It's part and parcel of places like these, though, and you know as soon as those Purple Starfuckers hit your system, you'll be grand. One would have done the trick, but two? Yeah, you'll be buzzing in a few minutes. S'why Jeongguk gave you two. Knows your tells. Could sense your levels.

You're lost to the night within a few minutes, but it doesn't stop Jeongguk from glancing to the crowd every now and again.

The boys arrive within ten minutes of you, and are the same rowdy gaggle they usually are. Yoongi is on his phone - checking that Seoyeon definitely will be at the club for midnight. She's getting ready with her girls. They'd opted for drinks at home for most of the night, unlike the boys who were mostly single and wanted to be out and about.

Jeongguk makes their usual orders and ignores the way they tease him for having to work. It was his choice. He did this to himself - and sure, he'd rather be on the other side of the bar, but when Jiyeong arrives a little while later, Jeongguk is glad for the distance.

He'd promised her and her friends a table to make up for his absence, and had allocated an extra bottle of prosecco to the table just to stop them from coming back to the bar. He doesn't wanna have to smile and pretend like everything is fine. She'll have expectations for the night, and he knows this.

There's lingering ache in his stomach; acknowledgement that he's doing something wrong.

He's not invested like he should be.

Jiyeong attracts attention. So do her friends. They dress similarly. Are indistinguishable from behind, save for a few highlights. Probably know the ins and outs of each other's lives. They likely know all about Jeongguk; the sort of cringe messages - the ones that are commonplace at the start of a relationship - that he's sent, the sweet gestures he's made, the genuine interest he's shown in her. They probably have an idea of what he looks like naked.

He does like her. Tells himself he does, at least. Smiles to himself when she jumps a little as the prosecco cork is popped by the table host. She has qualities he likes; determination, drive.

Perhaps if Jeongguk hadn't grown so soft, so insecure, they maybe things could have worked.

Before Hayun, he used to like fighting. Found it exciting. Had a girlfriend once that was much like Jiyeong. They'd bicker and argue until it ended up in the bedroom. A reset button would be pressed until the inevitable next time. He stayed with her for a year.

Occasionally, he'd argue with Hayun. When she was withdrawing, and he felt like he was losing grasp on a relationship that never really was a relationship, he'd cause a fight. Just something petty. Ask her why she'd been so avoidant, or question if she wanted to end things. Thought that maybe she'd work in the same way. Thought a reset button could be hit, and she'd want him again.

Sometimes it worked, but more often than not it didn't, which left Jeongguk in a constant sorry state of grovelling and trying to fix things. That never worked, either.

Sometimes Hayun would just fuck him to make him feel better.

Sometimes she'd ignore him for days on end.

The great unknown of which response he'd earn ended up cultivating a constant mess in Jeongguk's head. He was constantly seeking approval, constantly trying to be in her good books. He doesn't think she meant to make him this way, but it doesn't really matter.

He's never really let the scars settle. He picks at them until they bleed, and is surprised when they won't fully heal.

It's why he doesn't like arguing, now. It's why he avoids it as much as he can. It's why he sometimes lies. He's not malicious, just a product of the mistakes he's made in the past.

The memories fill his stomach like lead nails, weighing down on him, poisoning his bloodstream. They're so potent he almost thinks he can smell her perfume. She always wore the same one. He remembers it, still. It's french. Almondy. Expensive. Lingering. Unisex, so sometimes she'd spray him with it, too. Used to make him smile when he noticed it.

Makes him feel sick, now.

"Oi, boss man," Yeonjun calls over to Jeongguk as he's mindlessly making a couple vodka cokes. "Can we switch? She's asking for Star Fuckers."

Jeongguk laughs to himself. Why on earth you would have gone to Yeonjun is beyond him, but he kinda likes that you don't feel like you always have to go to him.

"Send her to my end," Jeongguk just calls back. His section is quieter than Yeonjun's at the moment, so it doesn't really make much difference. He's just served the last punters in the queue - two vodka cokes, no ice -and has time to kill. Get straight to it as you make your way up. Is surprised you're back so soon, but lines up 6 shot glasses regardless.

He turns to the back wall to grab the amaretto and is thinking about that perfume, again. Pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind, and thinks about the fact the DJ has definitely already played Stay, instead. He doesn't mind. Quite likes Justin Bieber. Demolishes the track in a noraebang.

Now that he's thinking about it, maybe that'd be a good way to end the night.

He goes to suggest it as he turns around - but the words catch on his tongue and dissolve into nothing; lyrics of a toxic relationship over a sickeningly cheerful melody drown out into silence, too.

"Hey," is all Jeongguk can muster.

A deer in headlights, eyes wide and bright, he isn't really sure what to do. His skin feels hot and prickly, but he's cemented in place. Can't escape. Can just stand, and stare.

And when Hayun stares back, a tiny smile fracturing on her red lips, Jeongguk thinks he'd quite like to die.

"Hey," she replies so quietly he can't hear her voice. The way her lips move - oh, it's just the same as it always was - has him entranced. She raises a thick, feathery brow as if to question his awkwardness. Her smile grows. "I'm not Medusa, buddy. You don't have to turn to stone."

Buddy .

God, it's like she driving those pretty red nails of hers straight through his heart. They match her lips. Perfect, and red, and poised to kill.

Jeongguk shakes himself together. Mentally, not physically.

In fact, physically, he's smooth as a smirk settles on his lips. It's all performative, but he learned to play the role so well. Has perfected it by this point.

"Sure about that?" Jeongguk says as he places the cocktail shaker down on the ledge behind the bar. "You're ugly enough to be her, buddy."

"Ouch," she laughs. Jeongguk thinks his ears are bleeding. "Back in town for all of five minutes and you're already making me wanna leave."

"Don't be a baby," he grins, convinced that if he acts normal, then maybe things will be normal. "You wouldn't have asked for Star Fuckers if you weren't looking for a little trouble."

There's a twinge of guilt panging in his stomach. He used a near identical line on you earlier.

She concedes, unaware of this. Unaware of you. Bites down on that ruby-red bottom lip of hers that Jeongguk used to know so well. "Yeah. You're right about one thing, buddy. Congrats."

"I'm right about everything," he protests.

The conversation is so easy. Just like it always was when things were good. She'd order his signature drink, and he'd watch on as she spent her night in a state of bliss with their friends until he could clock off and join them. She'd call him buddy, and he'd call her it right back, both knowing she'd end up in his bed at the end of the night. An in-joke, just for them.

When she looks at him like this - eyes sultry, a smokey eye framing them so effortlessly it's as if she was born with a kohl pencil in hand - he forgets how she would use the affectionate joke against him.

'We're just friends. I don't know why you're getting so emotional about this. I don't have to explain myself to you, buddy .'

But of course he has. Has wiped it from his memory, because it's far nicer to romanticise her than it is to demonise her.

"Didn't know you'd be back," he says as he pours her shot, trying to look ambivalent about it all.

She's toying with her card against the bar, her bare shoulders a stark reminder of what he used to have. Last time she was in Dionysus, Jeongguk didn't yet have a tab. Every drink was paid for on the spot. It's been so long since that was the case. Jeongguk finds that the stark reminder of how much time has passed makes his heart wilt a little bit. Has it really been that long?

"Nor did I," she shrugs, and Jeongguk tries to ignore the way her collarbones move so gracefully, her hair draping over them like a thin curtain obscuring something he once adored. "Last minute change of plans. Haven't seen the girls in a while, so-"

"Right," he nods. "The girls."

"And the boys," she offers him an inch, knowing full well he'll take a mile. Decides to just give it to him anyway. "And you. Missed my favourite bartender."

Favourite .

The word wraps itself around Jeongguk like satin ribbon, so soft and delicately smooth. Trails up around the back of his head, and covers his eyes; blinds him to anything other than her.

He wants to ask about her boyfriend. Doesn't wanna learn that he's over by the boys, engaging in drunken bonding with his friends. Chooses not to bring him up.

"Yeonjun?" Jeongguk just deflects.

Hayun nods. "Suppose so, considering I hear you've had a promotion? Bar manager, now?"

It's comforting, in a way, knowing that she acknowledges how much has changed. How much he's changed. The wreck of a man she left isn't the same man she's returning to. He's smug in this knowledge, and it prevails in the way he almost flirts .

"Ah, so you've been keeping tabs," he teases, to which she just rolls her eyes. "Sound a little obsessed, buddy."

Hayun holds back a smile. Her tongue rests between her teeth. There's so much she could say - but instead, she chooses to down her shot instead.

Jeongguk pours her another.

She knocks that back, too.

"Not with you," she eventually says. "With these?" She lifts the empty shot glass. "Yes."

The heaviness in Jeongguk's chest is obscured by the adrenaline that's rushing through his system.

The last time he'd seen Hayun, he'd been the one who'd had a few too many Star Fuckers. Ended his night slumped against his kitchen island, crying into his takeout pizza box.

It had been her last night out before moving up to Seoul. A long time coming, he'd always known that it was gonna happen eventually, but he still wasn't ready for when the time came.

'I don't know how I'm gonna be okay without you,' he'd admitted a little too candidly.

'You'll figure it out,' she had said. 'You always do, buddy.'

And she was right. These days, it feels like he has somewhat of a grasp on his life - one that he's only just been able to claw back from her. He pretends that you aren't the reason why.

So imposing is Hayun's presence, Jeongguk doesn't notice Jiyeong trying to catch his gaze from her table. Doesn't notice the frown on her face as she watches Jeongguk's conversation unfold. Doesn't notice as she walks to the bar - and truth be told, barely notices when she comes to stand by Hayun.

But Jiyeong isn't the kind of girl to go unnoticed. It's just not who she is - and she'll be damned if she's ignored .

"Hey, honey," she greets, sickly sweet, just like the moniker she's never called him before this very moment.

Jeongguk's focus is on her immediately. Gaze fervent, he's like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Heart in his throat, it's a miracle that he manages to look as poised as he does.

"Ji," he smiles. Is kind as he addresses her. "You good?"

She nods, pleased by the way he ended his conversation for her. A priority is what Jiyeong thinks she should be, and will only be happy when she's treated as such. It's not an unreasonable desire, he thinks.

Hands resting on the bar, Jeongguk doesn't really realise how clammy they are until Jiyeong reaches over to toy with one of them.

Jeongguk glances over to Hayun. It's a split second, but enough to see her eyes are on Jiyeong's hands, watching the way they trail up Jeongguk's tattooed wrist.

Hayun decides rather quickly that Jiyeong is a bitch pissing on her territory. Doesn't take too kindly to it.

"All good," Jiyeong smiles, ignoring Hayun. "Wondered if you were taking your break soon?"

"Hey, buddy," Hayun interrupts, not looking at Jiyeong, but at Jeongguk. He feels like an elastic band being stretched to its breaking point. "I'm gonna go catch up with the guys. I'll see you later, yeah?"

Jeongguk's tummy squirms. Hayun inserting herself into 'the guys' is deliberate, and he damn well knows it.

"Oh?" Jiyeong exclaims, feigning ignorance to the fact Hayun had been conversing with Jeongguk. "You know each other? Sorry, I should have introduced myself!"

She holds out her hand for Hayun to shake, but it's met with a contemptuous look and a glance towards Jeongguk as if to question his choices. She knows exactly what Jiyeong is doing. Has done it herself a handful of times before.

Also thinks it's laughable, because she stuck her flag in Jeongguk a long fuckin' time ago, and she's almost positive it's still there. As far as she's concerned, this new girl? She's just visiting.

"Jiyeong," she continues regardless, all smiles. The hand that's still toying with Jeongguk's wrist gets a little scratchy. She wants him to hold it. He knows this. Isn't sure what the right move is. Doesn't know who he'd rather piss off, but decides he likes Jiyeong so much more when she isn't mad at him. She smiles as he opens his palm for her. "Jeongguk's girlfriend. And you are?"

On a technicality - so much in the fact that he hasn't asked her to be - Jiyeong is not Jeongguk's girlfriend.

Right now, though? Safer to pretend she is.

"I'm an old friend," Hayun simply smiles, before turning back to Jeongguk. "I'll be with our friends, buddy. Have a good night."

He nods, and tries not to watch as she walks away. There's a queue forming, and he knows he needs to get back to work, but it feels like his head is gonna cave in.

Jiyeong is unashamed as she stares Hayun out, watching her walk over to Taehyung, who greets her with a hug that confirms she really is an old friend. Whatever history they have together, Jiyeong knows that Hayun will always have known Jeongguk longer. Will have known him better, at some point. It's irrational, but she doesn't like it.

"Need a drink?" Jeongguk asks her, not wanting to deal with any sourness. Knows he needs to get back to serving the punters lined up by the bar, but needs to remedy her woes first. Keep it sweet.

When Jiyeong speaks, the syrupy tone of her voice that she'd used with Hayun has turned incredibly bitter. "An old friend?"

Jeongguk doesn't respond immediately. Just sort of looks at Jiyeong. Wonders how someone so beautiful can make him feel so ugly on the inside.

"Hayun," Jeongguk confirms. "She's known us for years."

He's quick to make it about the group, and not just himself. He knows he's avoiding a difficult topic, but now's not the time. There are punters trying to get his attention. His eyes scan the crowd. This is too much for him to deal with right now.

He slips his hand away from hers, and takes an order from the girl beside her. 'Rum and coke, please.'

"You've never mentioned her before," Jiyeong decides to carry on the conversation as Jeongguk works. He wants to scream. Keeps his cool regardless.

"She lives in Seoul," he simply states. "Is never normally here."

"She's here now."

Jeongguk just shrugs, before turning to the girl and accepting her card. He gives a closed-lip smile, as if to apologise for the awkwardness. She's a little shy - definitely younger, maybe only about twenty - and her cheeks flame a little red from the eye contact.

Jiyeong doesn't like that either.

"Clock off," she says to Jeongguk as he passes the girl back her card. "At midnight. Clock off for midnight."

"That's not how jobs work, Ji."

Except it kind of is, for Jeongguk. He doesn't need to be working. He volunteered himself for this. Can come and go as he likes. The other manager is also on tonight. He's not 'on duty', as such - just a regular bartender. He's not needed.

He's choosing this.

"Well, fine," she hisses, and that's when Jeongguk knows how this conversation is gonna end. Same way conversations like these always do. "Maybe I've got 'old friends' in other bars."

"Maybe you do," he says flatly, as he smiles at the next customer. "What can I get for you guys?"

Jiyeong doesn't seem to care for his diverted attention.

"I do," she insists. Wants a rise out of him. "I don't need to be here."

"So don't be," Jeongguk snaps. He knows he shouldn't have, but his head's all over the place and he can't be fucked with another petty argument over nothing .

He listens to the order - three jack daniels and lemonade - and sets about making them. The music is loud, but it's not enough to drown her out.

"Fine," she says as she reaches for his hand when he goes to grab the soda gun. She wants his attention on her, and not some fucking customer. They're replacable, she thinks. She isn't. "I will go to another bar, and when it hits midnight, I will kiss someone else. If you let me leave, that's what will happen."

He knows that if she was sober, she likely wouldn't be acting out like this. The fact he's sober is probably amplifying his irritation, but there's a time and a place for this.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Jeongguk pulls his hand back. Picks up the soda gun and fills the plastic cups. The lemonade bubbles, fizzing over ever so slightly, but Jeongguk is too annoyed to care for accurate pours. Hands over the drinks, takes the customer's card, and then finally says, "You want me to chase you? I'm fucking working , Jiyeong."

There's a heat that comes with being inside a club, even in the depths of a freezing winter. Clammy bodies make the air steam, drinks sticky on the floor, slurred words misconstrued. No point crying over spilt liquor, though.

It's something Jeongguk is wise to. Has seen enough catfights to last a lifetime. Knows how easily the wrong choice of words can catapult decades-long friendships into the firing line. The same girls he'd see arguing would be back the next week, smiles on their faces, fingers laced together, affection evident.

It's different, when both parties are trashed. Forgiveness is more freely given. Mistakes made under the influence are chalked up to bad decisions never to be repeated.

The way Jiyeong repeatedly starts fights with him, without fail, every single time she gets a little tipsy isn't a mistake. It's a deliberate choice.

"I want you to care!" She scathes. "I want you to care about the idea of someone else kissing me! I want you to care enough to stop it from happening!"

Jeongguk laughs now. Really fucking laughs. Passes back the customer their card and then gives Jiyeong the attention she so desperately craves.

"Nah, let's call this what it really is, Ji," he sneers back, voice laced with agitation, nostrils flared. "You're making up hypotheticals to manipulate me into doing what you want-"

She laughs. It isn't pretty. "So now you're making me out to be the bad guy? Great."

"No, I'm not," he stresses, exasperated, talking with his hands because he doesn't know how to convey his frustration. "You just don't have to do any of those things! You don't have to leave, don't have to fucking get with someone else, don't have to fight with me over shit that hasn't happened yet-"

"No, I see how it is," she snaps. "You want me to leave."

"Honestly?" he shrugs, because what more can he do? He's reached his limit. "At this point Jiyeong, I don't give a fuck."

"Fine," she hisses. "If you let me leave, that's it. We're done."

"What?"

"If you let me leave, we're done."

Un-fucking-believable .

"You're like a fucking toddler just trying to push boundaries. I'm not your parent, Ji. This is never gonna work if you keep pulling shit like this."

She shrugs. Smiles in an ambivalent way that Jeongguk knows should scare him - but he's beyond the point of caring. He never should have listened to Jimin. Should have trusted his gut.

One of the drinks Jeongguk has just served is still on the bar, awaiting a pair of clammy hands to pick it up and quench the thirst of a shit-faced uni student. They're too slow. Jiyeong gets to it first.

She's like a cat in the way she smirks as the back of her hand flicks against it, sending the drink flying straight into Jeongguk's chest. It splashes down his abdomen, soaking his tummy, trickling down the top of his trousers.

Jimin's three rules of a breakup may work for him, but Jeongguk's never been like that. He isn't made for shit like this. He's a people pleaser, but he's growing to realise there's just no pleasing some people.

And as Jimin's first rule - 'always wear black' - is proven to be pretty solid advice, Jeongguk's head is even more of a mess than it was before. He doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know how to react. No one has ever pulled shit like this with him before. Not a punter, not a friend, not a girl.

"Oh no," she pouts, all dramatic and pathetic, as the cup drops to the floor. "I guess I'm just a toddler pushing boundaries ."

Jeongguk says nothing. Grates his jaw. Looks down at his chest where the fabric is clinging to his torso. The lemonade is gonna go sticky. He fucking hates being sticky.

"Maybe that old friend of yours can help dry you off?" Jiyeong smiles - but it's wiped from her face as Jeongguk glares at her in a way she's never seen before. Very few people ever get him like this - but the boundaries she's pushed have been tested beyond repair. There's no going back from this.

In other circumstances, he might let it slide - but public humiliation in his place of work is just cruel .

Those definitives Jeongguk dates in are at the forefront of his mind. He's looking for someone to share his life with. If he doesn't see a future, then he sees no point in carrying it on, and he's pissed off at himself for letting this go on for as long as it has.

He wants a family one day, and the idea of his kids having a cruel mother makes his skin crawl. Kindness, in abundance, is what he'd like to cultivate and, quite frankly, he doesn't think Jiyeong's willing nor able to offer that.

And so Jeongguk is clear, voice loud above the music as he says, "We're done."

Jiyeong laughs. The sound stutters in her throat, disbelief etched into her tipsy features.

"What?"

"I don't want this," he says, gesturing between them both. "Us. This. I don't want it."

Punters waiting by the bar look on with bemused horror. No one really has a clear grasp on what's happened, but they know it isn't good. Know that Jeongguk - mild-mannered, placid, Jeongguk - is fuming. He's so well recognised amongst Dionysus regulars that the idea of getting on his bad side is unfathomable.

Or at least it was.

Jiyeong pauses for a moment. The cogs in her brain are turning. She's aware she fucked up, but is too headstrong to admit it.

In his heart of hearts, Jeongguk knows that no one wants a relationship like this. Jiyeong likely doesn't, either. Is probably the product of her past traumas; boys who behaved in the way that she is right now.

Jeongguk's avoidant because Hayun was avoidant.

He knows you're fearful of commitment because Seokjin found it impossible.

Jiyeong probably pushes boundaries because she was burned by a boy who did the same.

But just because it's true doesn't make it right.

"Look, I don't wanna fight," Jeongguk sighs as he reaches for a cloth to pat himself down with. Yeonjun's clued himself into what's happening. Has moved up the bar, and is diverting Jeongguk's punters to him, instead. It's appreciated and will be repaid at a later date, but for now, Jeongguk needs to try and diffuse the situation. "But this just... this is fucking ridiculous, Ji. This isn't right. You know it isn't."

"We can make it right," she says now, as if Jeongguk's softness is making her realise that maybe she could be soft, too - but it's too late. His mind is made up. Has been for weeks, now.

"No," he replies quietly with a shake of his head. He doesn't want to cause further upset, but he can't keep lying to himself. It's not fair on either of them. "I don't think we can."

She says nothing. Just keeps looking at him as if he's gone insane.

"We can talk about this another time," he promises. "Not here. Not now. Not when you're drunk."

And then, all rather suddenly, as if she's forgotten that these are consequences of her own actions, Jiyeong is displeased. Turns her nose up. Tells him to ' get fucked ', as if that's gonna help the situation.

When she storms off in a huff, he doesn't stop her. Refuses to chase. He's not a fucking dog. Isn't gonna wait by her feet just in case she throws him a bone, like she hopes he will.

He tilts his head to the side. Shakes it a little. Sighs. His shirt is soaked through, and he knows he's gonna feel fucking horrible in a little while thanks to the soda syrup. He wouldn't care so much if he was getting fucked up with his friends, but he's void of anything to intoxicate him.

When he glances over to Jiyeong's table, her gaggle of friends have already left, so he assumes she has, too. The knowledge of this doesn't alleviate any stress like he half thinks it should. Just makes him feel like a failure all over again.

He can't stand looking at everyone smiling and having a good time, so he turns to rest his palms on the back bench of the bar. Drops his head, chin to his chest. Breathes. Fuck sake.

For all of her flaws, Jiyeong was proof that he'd managed to get himself over whatever the fuck Hayun put him through. Without her, what's he got to show for it all?

"Take 5," Yeonjun calls over to Jeongguk. He glances over to see Yeonjun's cerulean hair a mess, exhaustion on his features - but the queue is entirely gone. "I mean it, Boss. Take 5. I've got it covered."

Jeongguk's stare lingers, but eventually, he nods. Doesn't want to fight against anyone, not even Yeonjun. Does as he's told. Knows that the kid is gonna be cherry-picked for his job whenever Jeongguk leaves Dionysus, so figures he may as well give him a taste for authority.

That, and Jeongguk also really does need to take five.

The pressure of his fingertips against the smooth steel pins as he taps in the staff room code is welcome; a reminder that people aren't supposed to be hard. The pads of his fingertips are soft, and so is he.

Scattered in possessions that belong to his friends, the staff room is remarkably quiet compared to the main club. The sofas are empty, cups by the sink, too. There's a white shirt slung over the back of a chair, left there from the paint party all those months ago. It's the one he had brought along for you, but it seems like he needs it now.

His fingers work downwards, threading buttons through the silky fabric, releasing his body from the prison of a damp shirt. It rests open, but still clings towards the bottom where it's the most saturated in fucking Jack Daniels. He's always hated the stuff. Hates the smell. Reminds him of Tae's 19th birthday. Years later, he still can't stomach it.

Jeongguk is tired. Mentally, physically, he's exhausted. Has spent the last couple of weeks trying to hold it all together, when all he's wanted was to crumble like chalk from an eroding cliff edge. The nets that have been holding him in place have been torn through, or so it feels like.

Sinking into the sofa with a small thud, Jeongguk can't figure out how every single decision he makes seems to be so disastrous. Surely life is so supposed to be easier than this?

He rubs his ink-covered hand over his face, pushing it back into his hair. Lets his head hang back over the sofa and up towards the ceiling. There are a dozen beige marks on what should have been a paper white canvas; water damage from years of disrepair. The hidden secret of clubs is truly how decrepit they really are. Nobody notices when the lights are off, and there are disco balls obscuring the ugliness of it all.

It doesn't take much for you to find your way back into his mind. It's rude, how often you intrude. He should start charging you rent.

A soft smile settles on his lips as he thinks about how easy it is with you. None of those complicated feelings that come with Hayun, and none of the aggro that accompanies Jiyeong. Wishes everything could be as simple as the way he feels about you.

As he sits up a little straighter, his eyes fall on a pair of heels. They're next to your coat, chucked in the corner of the room, a little out of the way. They sparkle, even under the dull light of the staff room. Encrusted with diamonds that he knows are just little fakes, they match your dress.

Part of him wishes he hadn't taken up that bar shift.

Would have just made Purple Star Fuckers in the staff room with you every half an hour or so. Would have definitely pissed off Yeonjun with how frequently he was hopping behind the bar, but who cares? Would have been worth it.

A small box of plasters is perched on top of your coat; wrappers, too. He looks down to his feet. Wonders if you changed into your Chucks. Maybe you match. He likes the idea of that.

Legs spread, hands resting over his thighs, Jeongguk tips one of his feet ever so slightly to get a better look at the inner trim of his sole. By his ankle, beneath the classic all-star logo, there are tiny scratch marks on the rubber.

Before he'd taken a corkscrew to the shoes in this very room, there used to be a small 'H' there.

Used to wear them to keep her close. Wears them now 'cause it makes him laugh whenever you twin.

"The fuck are you doing?" He mutters to himself. Doesn't understand why he's even comparing.

Except he does.

It's been nearly a month and a half since he woke up to you in his bed, glitter all over his pillows. His sheets have been through the wash twice since then. Still finds glitter on his skin. Can't shake you. Is reminded of you every time tiny specks catch in the light. You're under every golden sunset and in every night sky. You consume him; eclipse him.

He'd take the darkness, though. Scared of the dark, but doesn't mind it if it means he can see you.

The distance has been unhelpful. Jeongguk overthinks. Lets his mind get away from himself. Needs to talk to you to remind himself of your dynamic; to remember how good things are as they are. Can't be fucking things up just 'cause his head's a bit of a mess.

He mumbles to himself as he stands up to change his shirt. Laments his past choices. Knows that he ruined his friendship with Hayun because he let his mind run away with the possibilities of 'what if?' and refuses to let the same thing happen again. It's not worth the heartache. Not when you guys have such a good thing going.

He pulls the white shirt over his head, and checks himself over in the mirror on the back of the door. His chains rest on top of the fabric, but he's not sure whether or not he should tuck the shirt into his trousers or let it hang loose. Eventually, he unbuckles his belt and adjusts his pants so that he can arrange his shirt a bit more freely, opting for tucked-in. You always mention how much you like his belt whenever it's on show, so he figures this looks better.

There's a side table by the door, and on it are a handful of novelty headbands for the night. He needs a bit of a pick me up, so he reaches for the most ridiculous one - silver and sparkly, 'HAPPY NEW YEAR' written in chunky plastic lettering over the top of it. He pushes it back through his hair as if it's a pair of sunglasses, and decides that'll do. His chest might be hidden now, but his forehead is out. What a treat.

He's barely gotten through the door when he spots you zooming up to the bar, most definitely trashed. Your little hands grip onto the bar to keep you from losing your balance, and your smile is borderline insane - but it gets Jeongguk smiling too.

You gasp. "An outfit change?! You didn't tell me we were doing outfit changes!" And then you pout. "You're gonna upstage me, Gguk."

"Impossible," he jokes. "I'm not half sparkly enough."

Glancing towards his little headband, you decide you must have it. It's a fault of yours, how often you like to... acquire ... things when you've been drinking. Lighters, hair accessories, the occasional street sign in your youth, there was little you didn't want when you'd been drinking.

He notices the way your eyes are glued to it, and smirks. "Jealous?"

"Immensely," you confirm without any hesitation. You sort of look like a puppy waiting for its owner to finish a slice of toast. "In fact, I have a proposition for you."

"Go on," he grins, crossing his arms over. You wish he wouldn't look at you like that; chin tilted upwards, tongue on the inside of his cheek, heavy-lidded eyes baiting you out. Especially not when you're as tipsy and prone to making god-awful decisions as you are. "I'm listening."

"I am prepared to offer you a trade," you begin to bargain, a cheeky glint in your eyes.

"A trade?"

"A trade," you nod, before you start rummaging around in your bag. Jeongguk watches with great curiosity, wondering what on earth you've got crammed in there - until you pull out a thin tube covered in sparkles. "Gimmie the headband and I'll give you glitter."

It's not a fair trade. You know it's not a fair trade. His headband is everything .

And yet Jeongguk doesn't even try to negotiate - just reaches up for the headband and leans across the bar to position it in your hair for you. He takes his time - makes sure it's perfectly placed - then rests his elbows on the bar, his chin in his hands.

"Glitter me up, Disco Ball."

There's genuine delight in your eyes as he says those words, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling in that compressed sort of way he does, tiny puffs forming beneath his eyes, nose scrunched, front teeth on show. He looks like a little bunny, and you think it's appropriate given that you're about to enter the year of the rabbit.

You squeak out a small 'yay' as you begin to unscrew the tube. He's never seen you put your glitter on, but this definitely isn't how he ever imagined it. He always just sort of assumed you sat there with a pot of craft-grade glitter and some sort of glue. Never considered that you put it on like lipgloss.

"Might be cold," you warn as you begin to dab the applicator against his cheeks. It shimmers and shines beneath bare lights, and you're amazed that you've never done this before. Jeongguk's skin is to die for. No better canvas. No better person.

Your fingers gently clasp his jaw, pulling him a little closer. "You look so pretty."

Jeongguk's smile is all bashful. He tells you to fuck off. Assures you he looks very manly.

"I like the white tee, black slacks combo," you admit. "And glitter can be manly, too."

"It can?"

"You're a man, no?"

There's a closeness to this position; one that has you forgetting that you're in a club, surrounded by dozens of people who will all be drawing their own conclusions over whatever is happening by the bar. You learned a long time ago that you can't control other people's narrative of you. If they think a certain way? Make assumptions? Let them.

You also can't control Jeongguk's eyes, and the way they flick down ever so briefly to your lips as your talk.

It means nothing. Jiyeong is here, or at least you think she is. Jeongguk knows better than to fucking flirt when she's around. Again, you think she's nearby.

You're unaware of what transpired. You don't know he's wearing an outfit you like so much because she'd decided to lose her cool. Are none the wiser of the fact that Jeongguk ended things. Sure it wasn't clear cut, and he'll likely need to have another conversation with her to fully establish their parting of ways, but as far as he's concerned, he's done with her.

He doesn't tell you this. He won't tell you. Not yet. After the evening has passed, maybe.

But not now. He knows you'll make him talk about it, and truthfully he wants to forget it. Wants to stargaze.

And now that he is? Fuck .

Fifteen minutes to midnight, and all Jeongguk can think about is your rules, and how much he hopes you won't break them for a stranger.

Doesn't want you to break them for him, either - you're off your tits and he can't even begin to start playing catch up until the clock strikes twelve. Just wants you to be safe. That's all.

Unaware of the workout he's giving his brain, you pull back from Jeongguk to study your work. The glitter is iridescent; purple pink hues scattered over the tops of his cheeks. He looks so charming that you squeal again. You simply adore the way he shines.

"Wait, wait," you say quietly, encouraging him to lean closers again. "Pout."

He does. It's cute. He sort of looks like a little emoji, all puckered and a little embarrassed, trying to stifle his giggle. You trace the wand of your glitter over the top ridge, delicately dappling his cupids bow in teeny tiny traces of glitter.

You pull away again to take in the sight of him. So pretty and ethereal. You want to fill his tattoos in with glitter, too, but you'd miss midnight if you did. Maybe next time.

"There," you smile. "That way you won't be able to deny it when Tae is your new year's kiss. You'll both be covered in it."

Jeongguk laughs. Shakes his head. Thinks you're stupid. Thinks you're cute, too.

The headband holds some of your hair back, much like it did with his, and Jeongguk is pleased. Your constellations deserve to be admired in their full glory.

"Star fucker?" He just asks.

You nod. Of course. You'll never turn one down.

"Can I get a drink to go, too?" You chance.

He points up towards the vodka, just to check, and is pleased when you nod. He knows you well, it would seem. Holds up one finger, then two, asking if you want a single or double.

You hold up three fingers. He rolls his eyes, smile prevailing - but makes you a double with a separate side shot, just in case you wanted to down it and use your drink as a chaser. You narrow your eyes, almost as if you're questioning his choices. Thing is, you trust him. Are aware that he has his reasons for doing things in the way that he does.

And so you take your shot and use the drink as a chaser.

"You'll miss new years," Jeongguk says, nodding to the frankly far-too-large screen behind the DJ, which already has a countdown on the screen. There's still about ten minutes to go. "You gonna break your rules tonight?"

It takes your brain a second to compute what he means. You furrow your brows, lips parting as you hum a confused little squeak - until you realise.

Laughing, you hold up your drink, and press a delicate kiss to the plastic cup. When your eyes close, Jeongguk is reminded of just how much you shine under club lights. It's a crying shame you don't kiss more people, he thinks.

Not that he'd like watching it. Just that he likes your glitter. Can see it better this way.

"Vodka is the only thing I'll be kissing," you assure him. The way you smile, all tipsy and giggly, gets him smiling, too. Then you correct yourself. "Maybe Danbi, too, but she doesn't count."

And she'll also likely be kissing Taehyung, if the way they've been flirting for the last six months is anything to go by.

"So you're allowed to kiss friends?" He grins, teasing you for your self-imposed rules.

"Friends who I don't fuck," you nod, with a smug smirk on your face - before you realise what you've said and how horribly inappropriate it is. There's a panic in your eyes as you backtrack, hand flailing about. "No, I don't mean- Like, I mean- Fuck. We don't fuck. I mean we did, but that was like once-"

"Twice."

"Don't get technical on me," you laugh. "Doesn't count. Either way, I didn't mean it like that." You look around, checking that Jiyeong isn't anywhere close, still totally unaware of the fight, or the fact she even left.

Jeongguk seems to be aware of who you're looking for. His lips settle into a small, almost unnoticeable, frown.

But you notice.

Of course you notice.

"Whatsup?"

He just shakes his head. "Nothing. Scarper, you little freeloader, or I'll charge you for that drink."

"Noted," you grin, distracted by the way he smiles, now. "If you're allowed, you should be with us all when New Year's hits. Or I can stay by the bar? I don't know where Jiyeong is, but-"

"I'll come find you guys," Jeongguk nods before you finish your sentence. Smiles, still. Seems sincere.

"Okay," you say quietly, a pleased look upon your face. You hate the idea of him watching on as you all celebrate without him. He's so important. You think it wouldn't be worth celebrating without him there with you. "Good. See you next year."

He laughs in that way he so often does whenever you say or do dumb shit. "See you next year, Byeol."

He loses you to the night once more, but doesn't imagine it will be for long.

The brightness of the LED screen counting down the time makes everything feel a little brighter. The DJ is hyping up the crowd as you work your way back to your friends. There's a girl who's taken your spot next to Tae, but Jimin notices you immediately and beckons you closer.

"DB," he slurs, as he pulls you in for a hug so tight you swear your back cracks. "Thought we'd lost you."

Shaking your head, you giggle against his neck which makes Jimin shiver a little bit. "Was by the bar with Gguk."

"How is he?" Jimin asks as he pulls away from you.

"All good-"

"What?" Jimin shouts as he leans closer. It's so much louder here than it is down by the bar. You position yourself next to his ear and explain that Jeongguk will join you all at midnight. Jimin is incredibly pleased to hear this. "Perfect. The night is young, but so are we, Disco Ball. Drink up!"

And so you do. You've nearly finished the drink Jeongguk made you already. You only stop yourself from finishing it off because you feel a presence next to you that puts you on edge a little bit.

Jimin's on the other side of the circle now. Notices the way she leans in a little to make herself known to you. Knows you, and knows how you'd go to bat for Jeongguk against anyone - especially anyone who has done him wrong. He wonders if he should intervene - but then Hoseok starts dancing in a way Jimin didn't realise was humanly possible and he feels challenged. No one outdances him. Ever . And yet Hoseok? Yeah Hoseok is giving him a run for his money, and he's too drunk to focus on more than one thing at a time.

Like you, Jimin would also go to bat for Jeongguk against anyone. Now that he realises you're both full of shit, and suit one another better than a yakult-soju mix, he wouldn't even dream of approaching you in a more than friendly manner. He'll still flirt a little, but he flirts with everyone. Jeongguk included.

He's the only one who really understands the gravity of the interaction that's about to happen - but he's also far too concerned with the fact Hoseok's body seems to defy gravity.

And so no one else really notices the way she encroaches on your space as you're glancing over to Jeongguk, making sure the queue isn't too long. You don't want him to miss his chance to join you all for New Year's.

"I thought Jeongguk had a girlfriend?" The girl beside you purrs.

"Hmm?" You hum with a little surprise, not expecting her to start a conversation with you. She obviously knows him, but you can't place her. "He's seeing someone."

She nods, eyes still on Jeongguk, watching on as he serves a small group of girls. His smile is ever-present, but he isn't as lively as he was with you. Doesn't look at them all starry-eyed. You pretend not to be pleased.

"Not sure how I'd feel about some girl going up to my boyfriend like that," she shrugs, sipping on her drink.

You glance over to her now, affronted by the tone in which she's speaking to you - as if you hadn't quite literally been the one to set Jeongguk up with Jiyeong. You're hardly a threat. You don't think anyone could be a threat, 'cause you've got a pair of working eyes and are incredibly aware that Jiyeong looks like she belongs in the fucking Louvre.

"Sorry?"

"Just saying. I wouldn't be happy with some girl all over my boyfriend like that."

The girl with the attitude problem wears a shade of red on her lips that you know must leave stains. If you were being critical, you'd tell her that she should go for a colder-hued red. The orange base of her choice washes her out a little bit.

But the lighting is bad, and you're sure it looks better under natural lighting. You're just being bitchy 'cause, well, she's being bitchy. At least you don't let your bitchiness out of its cage.

Much .

"Her boyfriend is a multidimensional human being, who has an identity and a life outside of his relationship," you assure her. It sounds great in your head, but in reality, it's a little incoherent because of all the vodka in your system. Jeongguk's get-fucked-up-quickly hack of a separate shot and double-chaser is doing its job. "Regardless, I'm hardly a threat. I literally set them up. He's, like, my best friend. It's not like that with us."

She snorts. "Right. Sure you are."

"Sorry?"

"Well I've never heard of you," she smiles. "And I'm pretty sure if you asked him who his best friend is, he'd say it was me."

The vodka in your system burns . It's like someone's taken a lighter to your liquor-soaked tongue just to watch the flames trickle down your throat.

The penny drops, shattering on the ground like a pane of glass. This is Hayun.

If you acknowledge your awareness of who she is, it will only confirm that she's a prominent part of his life, even in her absence - but equally there's nothing you'd love more than to put her in her place. Hayun has been a thorn in your side since before you ever learnt her name, and no amount of rose-red lipstick can make you think prettily of her.

Jeongguk is your best friend. He and Danbi are incomparable, but both play fundamentally important roles in your life. Both are deserving of the title, you think.

Your days are better for knowing him. You're not entirely sure if he'd say the same, but you're pretty certain he thinks fondly of the life he's experienced since knowing you.

There are, at least, no residual memories of hurt. You know he won't look at you and be reminded of what rock bottom feels like - and that's pretty nice to know, even if it isn't nice knowing he once was there.

"Word of advice?" You simply hum. "If you wanna fight over Jeongguk, do it with Jiyeong. I'm not interested, you possessive little weirdo. You'll get a much more interesting rise out of her than you will from me."

Maybe name-calling is a little immature, but it's better than calling her a raging cunt and pretending she has lipstick on her teeth just to make her squirm. You might still do that last part.

"I'm not interested in a fight," she says vacantly, a smug smile etched on her ruby-red lips. "I just know Jeongguk. I know what happens to the girls he becomes 'besties' with. I wasn't the first 'best friend' he had, and I doubt I'll be the last. Doubt you will be, either."

Your exterior is icy, but something about her words troubles you. You've never tended to think of yourself as special, but you also didn't think you were insignificant, either.

Admittedly, there's also nothing you hate more than the idea of men only befriending women so they can bed them. You've had friends in the past that have dropped you once they realised you weren't interested in pursuing anything romantic.

Jeongguk's never given you those vibes - but you have also fucked him, so it makes it a little more complex. Her words get under your skin, and you detest her for it.

She's rattled you - and for what? It's nearly midnight. You don't want to be having this conversation right now.

"You're being awfully repugnant for someone who isn't interested in a fight," you simply smile, deciding that playing nice isn't what you want to do.

Sure, it might annoy Jeongguk if it gets back to him, but so what? You're not obligated to be nice to everyone he likes. You try your best not to be too quick with judgements, but your opinion of Hayun has been rotting for a while now; festering in the deepest, darkest part of your brain.

If she had tried being nice to you, then maybe it would be a different story - but she decided to get petty first.

You shouldn't stoop to her level, you know, but you're about six star fuckers deep, and that's before you even consider the vodka cokes Hoseok's been keeping topped up all night. You're trashed . It's a miracle you can even stand straight.

It's partially thanks to the fact your balance has improved tenfold since taking up pole with Danbi, but also because you changed your shoes. Switching from heels to converse? Game. Changer.

"You've got a mouth on you," she assesses. Turns her nose up. You want to flick her stupid shiny forehead. "He normally prefers the nice types."

"Well, then it's a good job it doesn't matter what 'type' I am, then, isn't it?" You reply, not caring for this weird little drama she's making out of a simple interaction. Storm in a teacup, you think. "He's just a friend. Like you are. You're just his friend."

Hayun doesn't bite back this time. She stews. Sips on her drink.

"Surely - yanno, as his best friend - you should want him to have lots of friends? Want him to have a thriving social life?" You add. "Instead of trying to chase away people who care about him?"

"Ah, so you're more about quantity over quality," she nods. Smirks. "I see."

And sure, you could be the bigger person. You could just walk away in silent protest. You could be mature about it all.

You could go to the bar, and order a drink, and question Jeongguk's taste in women - but he could probably do the same back to you.

While there's a lingering fear that speaking unkindly to Hayun will earn you a place in Jeongguk's bad books, you decide that it's worth it. He might be blind to the fact she's an insufferable twat with as much decorum as a flooded sewer grate, but you aren't.

You're also drunk, which isn't helping in the slightest. All you wanted was a fun evening to say farewell (and fuck off) to what's been a pretty awful year. Being in her presence was never part of your plan, and you're actually a bit annoyed with Jeongguk for not at least warning you.

"I'm 'more about' you shutting the fuck up, actually," you finally snap. "Don't give a shit about your weird little Jeongguk fixation, but it's gotten real boring real fast. Now if you don't mind, Yunnie , I'm gonna go enjoy New Years with my friends. I would wish you a happy new year, but I couldn't give a fuck." The drink in your hand is finished off; down your throat in one final, rather undignified, swig. You turn to look at her, smile, and hope she knows what a dickhead you think she is. "Have the year you deserve."

It's three minutes to midnight, and Jeongguk's watching on with a knot in his stomach as you walk away from a conversation that neither you, nor Hayun, look pleased to have had.

She's glaring as you disappear into the crowd, disgruntled by whatever you had to say. He remembers how Hayun works; how she'll say something catty but won't ever see a fight through. Always resorts to silent treatment.

He knows you got the last word in, but knows that it would have happened regardless of Hayun's bickering style - because that's your style.

Though it feels like time has ceased to exist, the clock on the big screen still counts down. Before he realises it, it's two minutes to midnight. Hayun is smiling now, joking with Nabi, or Tae. He isn't quite sure who. Danbi and Hoseok are with everyone else, too, but you still haven't emerged.

It's at this point Jeongguk resigns himself to the fact that your rules are being broken tonight.

He doesn't like the way it makes him feel; all jittery and skittish. He wants to know where you are. Wants you to be safe. Doesn't want you making bad decisions you can't take back. Wants you with people who care about you as the clock strikes twelve.

Scanning the crowd, he debates going in to find you.

But then, all rather sombrely, as the clock ticks closer and closer to the ever-imposing New Year, he spots you. Knows exactly where you're heading. You're walking in his direction, but not towards him. If his guesses are right, you'll walk straight past him.

And you do.

He knows you well.

You deliberately avoid his gaze as you walk on by. You don't want him following. He's got a New Year to celebrate. People he loves to celebrate it with.

So do you - but it's been such a shit show of a year that maybe it'd be cathartic to say goodbye to it alone, before you're able to welcome a new year in with others.

Or maybe you're just a little too drunk and emotional to be around someone who makes you feel real fuckin' shitty.

There's a minute left.

Hayun keeps glancing over to the bar. Jimin's got his phone to his ear, and Jeongguk's phone is vibrating in his pocket.

Follow you, or find his friends.

It's a head or heart decision.

Trouble is, he doesn't know which is which, anymore.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

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