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euphoriara · 4 years

Text

By Your Side

you turned up with casual clothing the next day. and the first time he saw you with normal clothing, he could only stare with his mouth agape, like a fish out of water. you look smaller with the oversized sweatshirt, hair styled naturally instead of the usual professional look you go for. you're also slightly shorter since you forego the boots you usually wear for a pair of comfortable sneakers. the only thought that ran through his head at the time was "find you a woman who can do both."

alternatively

you just want to get your job done, but it seems like jungkook is determined to get in your way (and steal a spot in your heart in the process).

pairing: jungkook x bodyguard!reader

genre: action, fluff, tiny pieces of angst sprinkled throughout, bodyguard!au

word count: 22k

warnings: swearing, violence, weapons, abduction, implied/reference to sleeping pills, politics. (it sounds like a lot but it's not too much, promise. they're mostly at the first half of the story)

a/n: ahahahaha hey, i deleted the first part and decided to re-upload it as one part bc posting the second part was giving me a headache so here it is as a one piece instead. apologies to the people who read it before, there was like 7, im sorry lol. hope you can find it again since the first part left at a cliffhanger im so sorry. i still suck at summary but like at this point who's surprised anymore. but here it is, the longest thing ive ever written probably. to the people reading, thank you for giving it a chance, i appreciate it a whole lot, have a good day!

the cold air causes jungkook to nuzzle deeper into his sweatshirt, pulling up the hood to maintain his body temperature. outside of the convenience store, the busy street has started to wind down, only a few stragglers walking home from a long day at work. he pulls up his mask to cover more of his face, gripping the bag of snacks tighter to his body before opening the door.

when he steps outside, he's too busy ruffling through his snacks to realize there's someone sitting at the plastic chair in front of the store, who quickly stood up when they saw him making his way out. it isn't until he feels the slightest press of cold metal against his back that he realizes something is definitely wrong.

"just pretend like nothing's going on, walk normally and i won't hurt you." the girl is just as tall as him, whispering the muffled threat right into his ear so nobody else can hear it. from outside perspective, it might look like just two friends catching up with each other, with the girl having an arm slung over his shoulder from behind while her other hand concealed a dagger behind his back.

he quickly schools his expression into a mask of calm, though his mind is racing with how to escape this situation. he follows her instructions when she subtly shoves a knee to his thigh, signaling him to walk with her. "if you want money, i can give it to you right now. don't hurt me, i promise i won't tell anyone."

the girl scoffs next to his ear, "be quiet, I'm not letting you go. just listen to me and you won't get hurt. i said that already."

jungkook tries to hide the tremble in his hand by holding the bags tighter, nodding in response because he's too scared to talk. he's worried if he does try to talk, a sob might escape.

the girl shifts so she's walking by his side, arm with the weapon now wrapped around his waist, playing into the illusion of a couple taking a walk together.

unfortunately for jungkook, they didn't encounter anyone on their walk. nobody that he can signify to ask for help.

she leads him into an alleyway, and that's when jungkook's legs start to shake as well, causing him to lag behind. fear starts to course through his veins faster, heart beating a mile a minute.

he sees the girl raises one of her perfect eyebrow, eyes impassively staring at him. the rest of her face is concealed with a mask, just like him and she wears a baseball hat to hide the rest of her hair. "for fuck sake, i told you already I'm not gonna hurt you. you don't have to worry about your pretty little face, alright?" her tone is annoyed, patience clearly running out and jungkook just nods, afraid he might set her off if he doesn't.

he will himself to walk normally again when he sees another person emerges from one of the dark corners of the alley. a male and he's holding a gun, he realizes right away. he can't help himself when he audibly gulps at the sight of the weapon, fear rooting him in his place, unable to move.

"don't worry, he's just a precaution so you won't try to run away. we're not stupid." the girl tries to reassure him but all he could think about is the gun that the male has shoved into his jacket pocket.

they walk by his side now, and with the assurance of a gun, the girl pulls back her knife and shoves it into her pants pocket. jungkook tries to will his mind into coming up with a plan, but he's too scared to try anything with a threat of a gun next to him.

he scans his surrounding area, but couldn't find any loophole for him to make his escape. they eventually make it into the other side of the road where a black SUV is waiting. she opens the door of the car and gestures with her head, "get in."

he hesitates in his steps, if he climbs inside, there might not be a chance to escape anymore.

"i said get in, I'm not asking again." he feels the press of a gun on his lower back and decides to listen. he climbs into the car where somebody is already waiting at the driver seat. another person is sitting next to him, possibly to prevent him from jumping out of the car.

the male from before hops in next to him, while the girl climbs into the passenger seat in front.

he takes the down time to memorize details, not that there's many, since everyone in the car, including him are wearing a mask to cover their face and a hat, and have their hood up. each person only reveals a sliver of their eyes, hair hidden away by the hood of their jackets, and hands covered with leather gloves. their whole person is covered by clothing, making sure no skin is exposed.

when the car starts pulling out of the side of the road, the person next to him dangles a black cloth in front of his face. "now jeon jungkook, we need to cover your eyes and tied up your hands to make sure you don't become a loose ends." he faces the girl next to him, her voice is deceptively sweet and jungkook can't tell if she's faking it or not. despite not being able to see her face, he knows she's smiling from the way her eyes crinkle and the revelation brought a shiver up his spine.

the driver chuckles, causing jungkook to whip his head to stare at them on the reflection of the mirror.

they made a brief eye contact when the person looks back, holding his gaze in curiosity before his vision becomes dark.

he feels the male next to him shift, taking the bag from his trembling hands and tying his wrists with a cloth. he gives it a few tugs and when he's satisfied, he moves back to rest against the seat. "don't worry 'bout your snacks, pretty boy. I'll keep them safe." his voice is deep, raspy, amusement clear as day.

he drawled out his words, a clear sign that he's relaxed. jungkook thinks it's unrelatable.

the whole ride was silent, except for the music playing from the radio. jungkook tries his best to listen to his surroundings in hopes of being able to find clues of where they're taking him. but alas, the sound of the music is loud enough to drown out any other noises. he tries to focus on the direction of the car, tracing it inside his mind from the starting point when he got into the car.

however, it seems like his captors knew this because jungkook can tell they've been driving aimlessly for the past 20 minutes or so. it's not until 10 minutes later jungkook hears the difference in the road they're driving. briefly, the car drove through gravels before smoothly going back to pavement. and then going back to driving through dirt road.

at this point, jungkook has lost any sense of direction and has no idea where he is and where they're taking him, so he slumps against the seat, trying to come up with something else. he doesn't know what they want with him.

well, he does have an inkling about what they want.

another 10 minutes later, and the car finally stop. he hears the door being opened and closed, feels the people next to him climb out of the vehicle. except, he stays rooted to his spot, not knowing what to do since nobody instructed him to get out.

then, a hand reaches out to him, causing him to flinch when he feels someone grabbing his arm. "chill, it's me, come on. get out." it's the guy from before, tugging him by his sweatshirt.

he feels the gravel beneath his shoes which turn into soft grass after a few steps. when he steps inside the building, the first thing he notices is the smell. smell of old, rotting wood and dust.

somebody yanks the black cloth off his head, revealing an old empty warehouse with a chair in the middle. that's where he'll be spending his time, he guesses.

he hears the crinkling of his bag from the side, looking to see the guy from before dumping his snacks into the table next to the window. "minhee, tie him to the chair. I'm just gonna take a look at his taste in snacks."

the girl who threatened him steps forward, shoving him in the direction of the chair. "sit here, pretty boy."

the driver from before brushes past his side before he got the chance to move, murmuring, "please don't worry. we're not gonna hurt you. i promise." oddly enough, jungkook believes her.

after the reassurance from someone he doesn't even know, he complies with the girl, that he now know as minhee. for the first time in the last hour, jungkook finally opens his mouth. "are you not worried about revealing your name like that?"

minhee raises her eyebrow and scoffs, husky voice laced with amusement, "if it's not safe then do you think he'd have said it?" she yanks the rope around his wrist harshly, "i told you, we're not stupid." she doesn't elaborate, not like jungkook was expecting her to.

"haeun, did you queue the message?" she turns to look at the girl who sat next to him, the one with the terrifyingly sweet voice. a cheery voice replies from somewhere in the warehouse, "yup! all set. he'll receive the message first thing in the morning!"

"and did you take care of any possible recording or evidence?" he sees the guy opening one of his chips, turning away from him to pull down his mask to pop a few into his mouth. his voice sounds clearer without the barrier of the mask.

the sweet one, haeun, scoffs, "what do you think of me, yoongi? an amateur?" he sees yoongi shrugs, "I'm just making sure. no need to be salty 'bout it."

jungkook is thoroughly confused, why are they using their name so freely like that? are they not worried he'll tell authority about them? though judging from what minhee said, they have reasons to not be worried. he wonders what that means.

a new voice pipes up from one of the doorways, the girl who drove the SUV. she's the one that hasn't had a name associated with her yet. "yoongi, don't forget to feed him and give him some water."

yoongi turns around, mask now back in place, and frowns. he sighs loudly before grabbing a container and a water bottle from a bag he didn't notice before. "I don't understand why I'm stuck with the babysitting duty."

"oh shut up, all you gotta do is feed the kid. it's not that hard of a job." minhee snarks from where she's sitting near the window, eyes glued at the phone in her hand.

"the kid's hands are tied, how's he gonna eat and drink?" yoongi ignores her, making his way in front of jungkook. "i told you, you feed him." driver says, clearly amused at the way yoongi grumbles and complains.

begrudgingly, yoongi opens the bottle and tilts it towards jungkook, telling him wordlessly to drink. obviously, jungkook hesitates. what if the drink is poisoned?

the driver answers his question without him having to voice it out loud, "it's not poisoned. we're just trying to keep you away from dehydration and starvation."

he looks up at yoongi, who has one dark eyebrow raised in question, before deciding to trust her again. seeing how they have kept their promise of not hurting him, he doesn't see why he can't accept the food and water.

yoongi makes him finish the whole bottle of water before feeding him pieces of kimbap. offhandedly, he thinks the kimbap is delicious. so much so that he's tempted to ask his captors where they got them from before resisting the urge to open his mouth and make a fool out of himself.

when he's done eating, yoongi goes back to the table with his snacks, once again facing away from jungkook to probably finish the rest of the chips he opened. the driver speaks up again from where she's standing, now perched next to the snacks table with her hip resting against the side. "don't worry too much, you'll be home in no time and we really do have no intention to hurt you. you're just…" she trails off and stares outside the window.

"a helping hand to get us what we need."

and then it clicked in jungkook's mind. he was right, these people wanted money and holding him hostage is a quick and surefire way of getting it. clearing his throat, he decides to brave himself and ask for confirmation himself. "what do you want from me?" he holds the stare of the girl, curious and amused eyes staring back at him.

it's minhee who answers his question, "it's not what we want from you. it's what we want from your father." she stands up from her seat and sends a cold glare his way.

"money."

---

"Good morning Governor Jeon! What a lovely day today, isn't it? What a shame your son isn't able to see the sun himself today! But, don't fret, we can surely change that.

Now, Governor Jeon, all we ask from you is your cooperation and we won't hurt your precious son. Cross our hearts! We know how much you love him, so please don't worry too much. You just have to listen and comply.

Our only demand is, you guess it! Money! We want $5,000,000 in cash, delivered at an address we'll send to you after confirmation that you had prepared the money. After you give us what we want, we'll send you a location where you can find your lovely boy. He's quite a charmer, isn't he? And his taste in snacks is pretty good, if I say so myself. Sour cream and onion potato chip is delicious.

I must remind you however, do not try to get any authority involved or we can not promise your son will return unharmed. Do not try to trick or fool us, Governor Jeon, we have eyes on you and a gun in the same room as your son.

We know you're fully capable of giving us what we want so no negotiations, I'm afraid. Once the money reaches the location, open the bag and show us that you're not fooling us and then leave the premises and do not return back. Do not send anyone either or you won't get your son's location.

Now, as I've made clear before, if you or anyone else for that matter, violates one of the rules I've set in this message, I'm afraid your son will have to pay for that Governor Jeon. We would hate for that to happen, wouldn't we?

Anyway, you have 24 hours, starting from the moment you close this message.

Say Governor Jeon, isn't it lucky that the people that got your son are kind people who won't hurt him? Well this time at least. You should up your security around him, don't you think? It was quite easy for our people to get to him. What if somebody else got him again, but they're not as nice as us? You and him would be in big trouble, huh? Consider this as a friendly reminder from friends to friends, yeah?

Lovely time talking to you Governor Jeon! Hopefully we'll see you soon! Here's to no one getting hurt! Wait for our information!

---

jungkook quickly fell asleep last night after finishing his kimbap. it's no brainer since by the time he got to the warehouse, it must have been along the time of 1 in the morning.

he woke up uncomfortable, back and neck complaining at the awkward angle he had to sleep in. there's a shuffling sound close to him and when he turns his head around, he sees yoongi, with new clothes but still covered from head to toe, walking towards him with another container of food.

wordlessly, he opens the box, revealing a stack of pancakes with a side of fruits and a bottle of orange juice. he muses that at least they give him good food and one that's appropriate with the time of day. silently, he starts eating the food offered to him, eyes occasionally scanning over the room. though there's really not much to see.

the warehouse is empty save from a few scattered chairs, and a table. he notices the window from last night had been covered this morning, no natural light coming through the gaps. the only source of lightning is the few lightbulbs scarcely hang around the room.

there's a few doors to his right, but he couldn't see what's beyond it. although he can faintly hear the sounds of keyboards clicking from one of the doors, so he guess that's their temporary workspace for now.

"what time is it right now?" he asks after finishing the last of his orange juice. "almost 10 in the morning. here's to hoping your father fulfill his end of the deal, huh?" there's an underlying threat laced around his playful remarks and jungkook can only sigh at the statement.

"hopefully, i have assignments to finish and essays to write." at this, yoongi laugh, low and deep. "you sound much more composed than last night."

that's true, jungkook is a lot calmer now, talking about this whole situation like it's a minor convenience. but it's because he trusts that these people genuinely won't hurt him or they would have done so by now. also because he knows one way or another, his father will somehow get him out of here.

yoongi seems like he's expecting an answer from him, so he truthfully tells him his reasons. despite not being able to see his lower face, jungkook can tell he's smirking after he finished relaying his thoughts. "yeah well, maybe you should worry. we can't promise we'll let you go unharmed if he doesn't comply."

that brought his thoughts to a screeching halt, doubts and fears starting to plague his mind again. "we did promise not to hurt you, but only if you and your father listen to our demands. so your second statement is still up in the air. there's no 'one way or another" jeon, there's only one way if you want to get out safely."

one statement and his facade of bravado crumbles. what if his father doesn't comply? what if he makes a mistakes? what will happen to him? what will they do?

before he can scares himself further, minhee calls out for yoongi from the other room.

"that's my cue, be patient, pretty boy. you'll be out of here soon." even in the haze of his anxiety, he can't help but frown at the nickname. "stop calling me that."

"whatever you say, pretty boy." he hears yoongi's footsteps fade, and sighs to himself again. he cuss himself for forgetting his phone at his coffee table last night, and tries to move his wrists to see if he can loosen the tie.

unfortunately for him, the knot is too strong. so strong that he thinks it might be the impossible knot. he scans the room for any sign of weapons, only to come up empty. which means two things. one, his captors have all the weapons. and two, he won't be able to defend himself even if he got loose.

he hears a slight commotion from one of the rooms on his right. a second later, yoongi emerges, walking slowly towards him with his hands inside his pockets. "guess your father cares after all." before jungkook gets the chance to ask him what he means, he feels his eyes getting heavy, mind hazy, unable to fight it when his senses become dull.

"sorry 'bout that." and then everything becomes dark once again.

---

jungkook wakes up to a hand gently tapping his cheeks and a mean cramp in his neck. he slowly blinks his eyes open to see a stranger in a uniform crouching in front of him. when the stranger sees that he's awake, he's quick to gesture other people to start working on his bind, loosening the tight ropes around his wrists and legs.

"Mr.Jeon? Can you hear me?" he blearily nods at the question, mind too hazy to start speaking just yet. he slowly looks around the room to see crowds of people searching the perimeter. he doesn't see any signs of his captors however, which probably meant that they got away after rendering him unconscious.

he's lead to a Lexus RX that's parked outside of the warehouse, but not before being bombarded with questions from what he assumed are the paramedics. he tells them that he's fine and that they hadn't hurt him. they run a quick check on him and seem to be satisfied by his answer, letting him climb into the familiar leather of the car.

he tells the driver to drive him to his apartment, head heavily resting against the cushion of the car, "but Mr.Jeon, your father wanted to see you."

"tell him I'll meet him when i can, right now i just want to go home and rest properly." he doesn't want to deal with his father just yet, not knowing how he's gonna react. would it be anger? concern? indifference? he tries not to think about it too much.

thankfully his driver listened, sensing the exhaustion rolling off his being, and drove him straight to his apartment without any more questions.

he slams the door and make sure to check that it's locked before going around his apartment to make sure it's safe. he double checks every window and room, a slight anxiety still lingering at the back of his mind. he makes his way towards the bathroom, planning on taking a shower to rid him of the heavy weight pulling his limbs down.

on his way to the bathroom, he sees his phone lights up from where it's perched on the coffee table. curious, he snatches the phone to check the message. it's from an unknown number.

"Hey! What did we tell you, we won't hurt you right? We kept our promise! Just messaging you to tell you that Yoongi's sorry about the orange juice. We needed you to be unaware of what we were doing while we were preparing for your retrieval. Oh, and also tell your father to not investigate further too. Or something unpleasant might work it's way to your building. We wouldn't want that, do we?

And don't even try to track this message, you won't find anything. I guarantee. I'm good at my job. Anyway, don't forget to close your windows and lock your doors, wouldn't want a repeat of last night huh? Alright have a good day now Jungkook!

-Haeun"

he doesn't realize he's trembling until the phone almost slips out of his grasp, the taunts only adding to the growing anxiety at the back of his mind. the fact that she's brave enough to send a message to his phone, with yoongi's and her name in it means she's confident that they can't and won't be tracked. imagining the sweet voiced girl brought another shiver up his spine. he doesn't know why but haeun terrifies him.

he decides to delete the message and try to forget about the event from the last 24 hours, making a beeline towards the bathroom where he hopefully can wash off the reminder of the exhausting night.

once he's refreshed from his shower, he flops onto his bed and stares at the ceiling on top of him. he tries to rearrange the chaotic thoughts inside his mind.

concerningly, he thinks, he's not necessarily afraid of his captors from last night. maybe it's from the way they repeatedly assure him that they're not gonna hurt him. or from the way they fed him actual food, delicious one at that, and water.

no, it's the thought that he's a pawn in this game that terrifies him. the fact that he's stuck in this game of politics, money and power all because his father is the governor. the thought of being taken by another group that won't be as merciful is scary. years have gone by with his father involved in the politic scene but his family had never been threatened before. should he start worrying now?

before he can overthink like he usually does, the phone in his hand ping with another message. it's his father, asking for him to meet tomorrow to talk. closing his eyes, he sighs, shooting a quick agreement before trying to fall asleep to the sound of rain that starts pouring outside.

---

the next day finds him sitting in front of his father, fidgeting hands placed on his lap. his father doesn't mention anything, doesn't ask about what had transpired that night. jungkook can't help but think that his father had changed.

"i will be assigning you a bodyguard from now on, to ensure your safety." so there won't be a repeat of last time. "she will be with you at all times, except for when you're at home. and even then she will be staying at the apartment in front of yours so you can easily ask for her assistance. you are not permitted to leave and go anywhere without her. understand?" i will not let you cost me my reputation and money again.

his voice is cold, authoritative, daring jungkook to disagree with him.

jungkook bows his head low, muttering, "i understand," without making eye contact with the man in front of him. one he's not sure he recognized anymore.

"call her in."

jungkook hears the door open, two people coming in to stand next to his father. he sees you facing him and looks away before you can catch him staring at you.

"her name is (y/n)." you bow your head in his direction, face carefully blank when you look up again. your hair is styled neatly, suits tailored to fit. "it's nice to meet you Mr.Jeon." he blinks at your voice, not expecting you to speak to him. "oh! uh, nice to meet you too."

his father claps once to bring the attention back to him, "alright, you're dismissed, you can leave now."

he quickly stands up, bowing at his father before making a quick exit. the room feels suffocating and cold. he hears you trailing behind him but doesn't turn around until he's in the elevator, going down.

he debates on how to start a conversation with you, but you beat him to the punch. "no need to worry about making pleasantries with me Mr.Jeon. you can pretend that I'm just a shadow following you." he turns to see you with a slight smile on your face, before trailing his gaze to the holster strapped underneath your suit jacket.

"right…" he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, "you can call me jungkook. no need to address me so formally like that."

he sees you nod in confirmation before falling back into awkward silence. for him, at least, it's awkward. but you seem content with it.

he walks toward the awaiting car in front of the building, his father had sent someone to drive him around in the meanwhile, not yet allowing him to leave on his own. "i heard you're moving to the apartment in front of mine?" he hesitantly asks when you settle into the seat next to him in the car.

"yes i am. my belongings are being moved right now, actually. i will settle in tomorrow." he nods at your answer. "so, you'll be with me for," he frowns, "24 hours?"

"not necessarily, i won't be intruding on your personal space that is your apartment, but i will be accompanying you whenever you go outside."

"including university?" he doesn't think he likes the sound of that.

you purse your lips sympathetically, "I'm afraid so."

he stays quiet after that, looking out the window at the passing scenery to distract himself. he doesn't know what to think of this whole situation. in one hand, he's slightly relieved at the extra protection but on the other hand he's slightly uncomfortable at the thought of being followed everywhere he goes. at least, he thinks, he still has his home as his personal space.

a few minutes pass by in silence before jungkook feels you shifting next to him, body leaning forward to talk to the driver. "someone is tailing the car."

he guesses you have intended to whisper as to not worry him, but he hears you anyway. body immediately going rigid, he moves to look at you anxiously. "what?"

you lean back after the driver nodded, sending a curt nod his way, "a car has been following us ever since we left your father's building. we will try to shake them off before reaching your apartment." jungkook feels the car turning into a busy highway, now surrounded by more cars than before.

he anxiously glances between you and the rearview mirror, trying to find the car you're talking about, but with various cars in the highway, he can't tell which one is following him. you seem to understand what he's trying to do, "black honda accord."

he briefly sees the car you're talking about before it slips past him and speeds up, leaving him confused in his seat. when he turns to look at you, he realizes he's not the only one confused by the turn of events. you frown at the fading car, before blinking your expression back into a state of neutral.

"why did they just, leave? what do they want?" he asks, breaking the tense silence between you. "I'm afraid i don't know either jungkook. don't worry, i have their plates memorized, I'll make sure to tell your father about it."

the statement doesn't comfort him all that much, but he chooses to stay quiet. soon enough, he reaches his apartment building. he had always thought his apartment is safe, located in a building with strict security, but that doesn't make being followed home any less scary.

when you step out, you make sure to asses the surrounding area first, making sure nobody is following the two of you. once he reaches his apartment door, he asks you one last question. "do i have to call you when i want to go to the convenience store too?"

he sees a slight amused smile pulling at the corner of your lips, "with all due respect jungkook, it was going into the convenience store by yourself that got you into trouble, so yes, i will be accompanying you to the convenience store too."

embarrassed, he quickly nods and opens his door, bidding you a good night before disappearing into his apartment. he makes sure to check his whole space again, locking the doors and windows like haeun had reminded him yesterday.

he falls into his couch, turning on the tv to some news about an anonymous donation to fall asleep to. he lets his eyes close and sleep to overtake him, trying to shake off any remaining anxiety weighing his limbs.

---

having you as his bodyguard is not that bad, jungkook thinks. on the first week, you had been quiet and serious, accompanying him whenever he went to school and hanging back whenever he went out with his friends. though he received some strange looks at school because of your presence, it also brought a sense of security and calm for him.

after the first week of adjusting with having a bodyguard, he started breaking the ice between the two of you, occasionally striking conversation with you and asking about trivial matters. you were quiet, but you keep up with his conversation well, firing back questions after an answer to keep the conversation going.

by week three, jungkook considers the two of you as friends. he even managed to convince you to wear normal clothes instead of the suit you always wear, when you're not going somewhere formal. a feat that he's proud of.

"it'll look weird if you wear suits when accompanying me to the convenience store." he had said one afternoon while at the library. he's procrastinating his essay, choosing to strike a conversation with you instead. "this is basically a uniform, jungkook. I can't not wear a uniform while on the job." you leaned back in your seat in front of him, arms crossed in front of your chest. he tries to not let his gaze lingered too much.

coughing, he averted his attention to the highlighter next to his laptop, "but come on! wouldn't it look suspicious if you keep wearing that everywhere we go? why is it necessary for you to wear a uniform anyway? I'm sure they're not as practical. and they're probably not mandatory for your job." you had sighed but stayed quiet to let him speak.

"don't you need to be more subtle? and i bet it's a lot of work having to put on a suit every time i need to go out to get a cup ramen." he saw you mulling over the proposition before relenting. "fine, I'll start wearing more practical clothing but i still need to wear a suit when it's formal." jungkook nodded, "i understand, don't worry."

you turned up with casual clothing the next day. and the first time he saw you with normal clothing, he could only stare with his mouth agape, like a fish out of water. you look smaller with the oversized sweatshirt, hair styled freely instead of the usual professional look you go for. you're also slightly shorter since you forego the boots you usually wear for a pair of comfortable sneakers. the only thought that ran through his head at the time was "find you a woman who can do both."

by the second month of you being his bodyguard, he has started inviting you into his apartment to hang out with him. he often challenges you to play video games with him, competitive nature resurfacing everytime you win. though, he never asked to go to your place and you never offered.

your presence lets him forget about the events that took place many months ago, providing a calm reassurance everytime he walks. now, he doesn't check his apartment obsessively anymore, merely making sure to lock the doors and the windows. it also lets him feel normal for once.

despite being someone who works for him, you don't let that become a gap between the two of you, befriending him who sometimes finds it hard to make friends due to his status as the governor's son.

all in all, jungkook thinks having you as a bodyguard isn't that bad.

---

walking at night doesn't feel as scary as before now, with your warm presence next to him, steps aligned with his. he chatters away about his upcoming project, asking for your opinion once in a while about a certain topic. it isn't until he feels your hand on his bicep that he realizes you had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes cautiously trained in front of you.

he frowns, turning to look at you, "what's wrong?" he follows your gaze to see two people standing at the other side of the road, appearance reminding him of those people that had captured him all those months ago. a hat, mask and a hood to conceal their identity. hands shoved into their pockets to conceal any weapon they have.

he tenses when he feels you shift next to him, fight or flight instinct sounding in his head when he sees them slowly making their way over. he's too caught up in his mind to realize that you had drawn out your gun, shoving it into his trembling hands. "jungkook, take this. if any of them tries anything, aim and shoot."

"wh- what? what about you?" he'd be embarrassed of the tremor in his voice if he weren't so scared. these people don't look nice.

you throw a smirk his way, "don't worry about me."

any reply dies on his tongue when he sees one of the people swings their fist towards you, one you quickly dodge by stepping to the side. he sees the other person charging towards him, moving away from the direction he pointed the gun at to tackle him down.

they both fell to the ground, his back hitting the cold pavement with a loud thud. the male pins jungkook to the ground with his knees, gun having fallen away in the moment of scuffle. he draws back his fist to punch him but jungkook manage to throw him off balance by slamming his knee against his back. he pushes the male away from him, wrapping his arm tightly around their neck while searching for the gun with his other hand.

he's momentarily distracted when he hears you yelp in pain, looking over to see you hunched over a few feet away from him. he sees the person you're fighting aiming a knife at your shoulder, sending him into panic. when he grabs ahold of the gun, he shots the person in the thigh.

the knife clatter to the ground, a hiss sounding from the person standing in front of you. he sees you stand up to neutralize them, throwing a punch and stepping on the thigh jungkook had shot before. he then turns to the person in his arms, debating on what to do. the male senses his hesitation, using their strength to throw jungkook over their shoulder, causing jungkook to loses his grip on the gun once again.

in the moment of weakness, the guy had managed to grab the gun from him, the barrel of a gun now pointing at his forehead. jungkook closes his eyes and brace himself, fear gripping every inch of his body, replacing the adrenaline.

but the shot never rang. instead he hears a heavy thud, and when he opens his eyes again, you stand in front of him, gun pointed at the guy kneeling in front of you.

"who sent you?" you ask, voice cold and emotionless, it reminded him of the first sentence you've spoken to him. the person doesn't answer, eyes trained on you while occasionally flickering to his friend still laying on the ground, obviously in pain.

"you're not gonna answer?" your question sounds more like a statement, and a few seconds after you finished your sentence, jungkook hears the telltale sound of the police cars. you must have alerted the authority the moment you saw them.

he sees the male nervously glancing around, fidgeting like he's trying to find a way to escape.

"go on, try to run, I'll make sure you end up like your friend over there." bleeding, unable to walk, let alone run.

slowly, the male moves his hands out, holding it up in the air in surrender. your hold on the gun tightens momentarily before relaxing again when the police arrive to apprehend the two.

he sees them being handcuffed and lead to the awaiting police car ready to take them to the station. you drop your hand to your side, still clutching the gun in precaution.

an officer walks towards the two of you, placating hands in front of his body. "are you two okay? do you need medical assistance?" it's not until he mentions it that jungkook notices there's an ambulance parked next to the sidewalk, a few medics tending to the guy he had shot.

you turn to look at him, scanning him head to toes for any injuries, "do you need medics? are you hurt?" he shakes his head, hands still shaking, "no i- I don't, i don't think so." you frown at his answer, taking a hold of his wrist gently, "still, you need to get yourself check out. let's go."

jungkook is tempted to hold your hand but managed to refrain from it. he needs some comfort, but he's not sure if he can ask it from you.

you lead him to the ambulance, the male from before had been taken away to the hospital, so there won't be any awkward encounter between the three of you. "he might have a bruise on his back, he was thrown to the ground twice." you tell the medics.

he didn't realize he might've been injured too, but your words makes him realize there's a dull pulsing on his shoulder blade and his back. the medic nods, gesturing to his shirt, "may i check?" offhandedly, he nods, letting him lift his shirt to check his back, but moves to grab your hand when you turn to walk away.

"where are you going? you need to get checked out too, you probably sustain more injuries."

"I'll get checked out later, I'm going to give you some privacy." you smile at him, hand gently prying his from your wrist.

he furrows his eyebrows, "i don't mind, really. you should really get yourself checked." he eyes the cuts and bruises on your knuckles. "did you know your knuckles are bruised?"

you look down at your hands, chuckling to yourself. "did you forget this is my job, jungkook? this is not a big deal."

thankfully, the other medic is quick to agree with jungkook. "come here, let me tend to your wounds." she doesn't let you disagree, sitting you down and making quick work to clean the scrapes on your hands.

he hisses when he feels someone poking the bruise on his shoulder blade, "just some minor bruising on your shoulder and your left lower back. when you get home, you should ice it and rest to let it heal by itself." he quietly nods and watches as his medics move to help tend to you.

"and you, miss? any other injuries besides the knuckles?" he asks as he crouches behind you.

you turn your head to the side, pondering the question. "probably just some bruising too since he managed to get a couple of punches."

the medic nods, "is it okay if i check your torso?" you purse your lips, eyes flickering to jungkook at the back of the ambulance. "sure."

jungkook averts his eyes when the medics start to lift your shirt, only looking back when the male starts talking again. "there's a shallow laceration on your side, quite a few bruises too. do they hurt?"

"not that much."

he sees them nod, "alright we'll take care of the bleeding wounds and then you can go. don't forget to let the bruises heal."

a few minutes later, you're walking home, side by side. he eyes the gauze around your knuckles, heart heavy with guilt.

"I'm sorry." he mutters.

you stop to look at him, eyebrows raised in question. "for what?" "you got hurt protecting me."

"it's my job, jungkook. you don't have to feel sorry." he sighs, kicking at nothing. "i know, but still."

you place a comforting hand on his biceps, "and it's not your fault. don't beat yourself up." he can only nod at your statement, still uneasy at the thought of you getting hurt. the rest of the walk is blanketed with silence, millions of thoughts running through his head. he thinks about who those people were, about what they wanted. he shivers at a particular thought. what if you hadn't been there with him? what if he were alone, like that night at the convenience store?

he doesn't want to think about it.

when he arrives at his doorstep, you place a hand on his shoulder to stop him from entering his house. "don't forget to ice your back." jungkook blinks, he just remembered that. how is he gonna ice his own back?

he sees amusement dancing in your eyes, it's like you can read his mind. "do you need help?"

embarrassed, he quietly nods, opening the door and inviting you in.

"lay down on the couch, I'll get the ice."

he complies wordlessly, laying on his stomach on the plush couch and closing his eyes. he hears you move around in the kitchen, and struggles to keep his eyes open. he hears you ask him if it's okay for you to lift his shirt, answering the question with a short grunt.

you lift the shirt off his back, hissing when you see the bruise on his shoulder. "damn," is the only thing you say before placing the ice pack at the right spot. he tenses for a moment at the cold sensation, before melting back into the couch. "didn't they say there's another bruise, jungkook? where is it?"

at the mention of his other bruise, his eyes pop open, realizing where it's located. "uh…"

he waves his hand around, "don't worry about that one, i can take care of it." he can't see you but he's sure you're frowning in confusion. "i thought they said it's on your lower back?"

"ye- yeah. yeah it is. it's um…" he's too embarrassed to tell you it's on his butt. "don't worry it's fine."

it's silent for a few minutes, jungkook thinks you might let it go but then he hears you trying to stifle your laughter. he pouts, "don't laugh! i fell on my butt when he threw me off his shoulder!"

you let out a single laughter before composing yourself, patting jungkook on the head. "it's okay. that's good actually, you didn't fall on your tailbone and risk injuring it." he hums at the compliment, good point, kudos to him for moving his body slightly to the side when he was up in the air.

"you sure you don't need my help compressing it?" you tease, moving off the couch back to the kitchen. "m'sure."

"do you want warm milk, jungkook?" you call from the kitchen. "yes please!" milk sounds nice right now.

when you come back, you place the warm cup of milk on the coffee table, "i put some honey in it, like in that movie you showed me last week." jungkook's heart clenches, you're so cute. he mutters a thanks to his folded arms, trying his best to keep his eyes open. "I'm gonna go home now, rest and take care not to aggravate your bruise too much, okay?"

he moves his head to the side, "do you need help? with your own bruises?" you shake your head on your way to the door, "nah, it's fine. i can do it myself, i didn't get thrown to the pavement." he throws another pout your way.

"good night, jungkook." the door closes before he can say it back.

---

a few weeks pass by without any more incidents, his body returning back to its normal condition in just a few days. for a couple of days, you diligently helped him iced his shoulder, not forgetting to tease him about the one on his butt each time.

everytime he offered to help you with your own injuries, you always shot down the idea, telling him you can take care of yourself. so jungkook decided he'll help by going out less to let you rest a bit more, so your cuts and bruises can take their time to heal.

he invited you over more often, offering to watch movies together with him or to play video games. sometimes you had to decline, telling him that you still have some things to do, but more often than not you'll sigh and roll your eyes fondly before agreeing.

this week however, he hadn't seen you that much except for when you accompanied him to school. mostly because he had been cooped up in his own apartment, only leaving for his exams in the morning, studying and focusing on his big project for the rest of the day.

he'd given you a heads up before the week started, as to not worry you when he doesn't knock on your door to ask to go the mall.

"I'm gonna be pretty busy next week," he had said over a plate of fried rice, sitting on his dining table with you across from him. you raised one eyebrow in question. "finals week means i have to study everyday and i have to finish a project I've put off long enough."

he chewed the fried egg, gulping it down before continuing, "so i probably won't go anywhere except for school. think of it as like a vacation for you." you had nodded and smiled at him, but didn't say anything, scooping up more rice onto your spoon. jungkook didn't notice your smile didn't reach your eyes.

today is the last day kf exams for him, every finals done and project sent to his professor 15 minutes before the deadline. he flops down into the floor in a heap, exhaustion rolling off every inch of his body. he had only gotten a total of 25 hours of sleep this week, and had not been taking care of himself properly.

he groans and stands up when he hears his stomach grumbles, making his way to the kitchen to look for some food. there's a slight headache at the back of his head, vision blurring for a moment before returning to normal. he shakes it off as exhaustion, opening the fridge only to see it empty. he tries the cupboard but comes up with the same thing.

throwing his head back, he decides he'll have to go out to get some food, it's not too late at night yet, clock showing 8:15. walking to the door to get you, his vision blurs again when he reaches his door, hand gripping the doorknob to prevent him from falling. he definitely needs to get you now.

when he opens the door, he finds you conversing with someone in the hallway, opening the door to let them in. he can't exactly hear what you're saying but the other voice causes a flicker of familiarity to light in the back of his mind. your eyes quickly snap to him when you realize he's standing behind the person, widening in surprise and… nervousness? fear?

he was about to ask you who it is when the person turns to look at what made you freeze, jungkook's body going rigid at the realization. the voice, the eyes, he remembers them, memories from the events all those months ago surges to the front of his mind. his vision blurs again, this time slowly going dark around the edges. only one name crosses his mind.

"minhee."

---

you watch as jungkook's body goes rigid when he sees minhee turning around, he had obviously recognized her. you hear him mutter her name before going limp and move to catch him before he collapses, supporting his weight so he won't fall to the ground and hurt himself. grunting, you adjust his body in your arms, "minhee, a little help?"

she sighs loudly, moving to stand next to him and slinging his arms around her shoulder to help you carry him to your apartment. "the fuck are we supposed to do now?" she asks, kicking open the door and helping you move him to your couch. "i have no fucking idea."

your mind races with all the possibilities, trying to come up with a solution to the new problem in your hand. you unceremoniously drop him to your couch, feeling his forehead to check his temperature. he doesn't have a fever, though he look pale and exhausted. you figure he hasn't been taking care of himself.

haeun emerges from the kitchen, holding a bowl of seasoned popcorn. she munches and raises her eyebrow at the sight, "what's going on?" she looks at the boy on your couch, "why's he here?"

you pinch the bridge of your nose, pacing in front of the door while minhee sits on the chair next to the tv. she answers haeun question for you, "pretty boy here, recognized me and then fainted."

haeun chuckles, "he fainted because he saw you?"

"no, i think he fainted from exhaustion and possibly dehydration, seeing minhee just add to the shock. how long do we got until he wakes?" minhee clicks her tongue, "few minutes? maybe? I don't know but you need to figure something out, quick."

you talk out loud so minhee can hear you, maybe her opinion can help. "well, one thing for sure is we can't let him go and pretend nothing happened, can we?" she shakes her head no.

"but, maybe we can? i can just say that he hallucinated because he was tired? do you think that would work?" she shrugs her shoulders.

"do you think he'll believe me if i told him that?" she nods her head yes.

you stop your pacing, "what? you think he'll believe me if i told him he hallucinated?" she plasters an innocent look on her face, blinking at you from where she sits. "i think so. pretty sure he'd believe you if you tell him the cashier at downtown McD is an alien."

you tilt your head to the side, not understanding what she meant. "what?" before she can respond, haeun places a glass of water on the coffee table and you shoot her a grateful look. "okay you know what, you two go hide in my room. I'll try to see if i can get him to believe nothing happened."

"no, he's not that stupid. you know that's not gonna work," a voice is heard from your doorway, and when you turn to look, it's yoongi with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

you groan in frustration, "then what am i supposed to do, yoongi?"

sighing, he walks into your apartment, closing the door behind him. "I don't know yet but i think we should take him with us." he stares at the sleeping boy on your couch, using his shoes to nudge his knee. "it's too big of a risk if he knows and we let him go, you know that. we can't let him walk around with that knowledge, not yet. he now knows of your identity and hers. we'll figure out what to do after our main goal is done."

minhee and haeun stay quiet, letting the two of you figure out what to do with the governor's son. "if we disappeared, they would no doubt be suspicious of me, and then my cover will be blown." yoongi sits at the table, legs crossed, "I'm sure you can figure out a reason, right?"

you drop your head to your hands, racking your brain for any solutions. "whatever you come up with, you know I'll be able to help you with." haeun offers, watching your eyebrow furrows in deep thought.

you look at jungkook, it's been a few minutes and he hasn't woken up yet, which probably means he won't wake up for a little while.

hesitantly, you let them know of your plan, "i can tell his father he's going on a trip with some of his friends to celebrate and that I'll be accompanying him. I'll tell him he won't be able to reach us because we're going somewhere secluded but I'll keep him updated and that it's an impulse trip."

you turn towards haeun, "can you deal with the logistics of all of that? tie up any loose ends and cover any tracks so he won't get suspicious. I'm going to message him right now and see what his response is and then we can go on from there."

haeun nods, and you trust her. you trust that she'll be able to handle it, she's good at her job after all, and a genius on top of that. you quickly send the message, receiving a reply in less than 5 minutes.

"Alright, keep him safe. I'll transfer the expense to you once you return. Tell him not to do anything stupid."

you scoff at the response, you can't believe that would actually work. he doesn't question why jungkook didn't tell him himself? doesn't question jungkook going on an impulse trip with his friends? you wonder about his relationship with jungkook.

but you guess right now, it's a good thing that he doesn't question you and he trusts you that much.

"minhee, can you pack me my bags? in case anyone checks, we need to keep up the illusion of going on a trip. I'll go to his apartment to pack his." she nods and makes her way to your room, while you order yoongi to keep an eye out for him.

you quickly walk to his apartment to pack his bag, grabbing only the necessity and some pieces of clothing, turning off all the lights and electronic appliances and taking his phone and laptop with you. once you're done, you walk back to your door, briefly musing about the security cameras. you'd need haeun's help to take care of that later.

when you get back to your apartment, you see minhee holding two bags, standing next to yoongi while jungkook stays fast asleep on your couch. you shove the bags you're holding to haeun so you can lift jungkook with yoongi, making sure everyone have their mask on before leaving the apartment. you tell them not to wear their hood as to not rouse any more suspicions and make your way to the parking lot downstairs where you deposit him in the passenger seat of your car.

fortunately, you didn't meet anyone on your way down or you'd have a hard time explaining the unconscious boy in your arms. climbing in to the driver seat, you pull out of the parking lot, driving to a place you know to be safe.

"haeun, can you take care of the security footage?" she hums from the backseat, "don't worry I'm already working on it." you nod at her words, glancing at the boy next to you.

"I'm sorry, Kook."

---

when you reach your house, you take jungkook to your bedroom to let him rest and ask minhee to get some water for when he wakes up. you need to assess the situation after he wakes up too, to determine if he remembers what happened or not, maybe you can still convince him that nothing had happened and take him back.

10 minutes later, you see jungkook stir as yoongi and minhee steps outside your bedroom, so you gesture for them to hurry up. when jungkook fully wakes up, they're both hidden from sight, door closing quietly behind them.

he groans from his position on your bed, hand coming up to rub his forehead. you sit next to him on the floor, tentatively touching his shoulder. "jungkook?"

he jolts when he hears your voice, scrambling to put a gap between the two of you. "hey, hey it's okay. you're alright, you're safe." he keeps quiet, eyes wary, and you can't tell if he remembers seeing minhee or not. you keep talking in a soft voice to placate him, "you're okay. you fainted from exhaustion in front of my door. i heard a knock and when i opened the door, you collapsed before i could ask you what happened."

you place your arms on the bed, showing him you're not gonna hurt him. "you look really pale when i opened the door, do you want some water?" you gesture to the glass on your nightstand.

he furrows his eyebrows, glancing at his surrounding, confused eyes scanning the room. you think he might have forgotten until he opens his mouth, "are you gonna poison me?"

you freeze, blinking at him. "what are you talking about? of course not, why would i?"

he blinks back at you, face blank and void of emotion. "so you can use me as a "helping hand" to get what you need." he repeats the word you said to him that night, proving that he remembers. you try to play it off, "jungkook, i really don't understand what you're saying."

hesitation flicker in his eyes for a moment before disappearing again, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "minhee," is the only thing he says.

you frown, "who?" "the tall girl in front of your door earlier." you purse your lips, he remembers.

you sigh, dropping your shoulder and gesturing to the water, "at least drink some water first, i promise you it's not poisoned." you reassure him the same way you did that night.

he doesn't move so you take the glass, taking a gulp of water to prove its harmless before offering it to him. he eyes the glass with distrust, gazing at you for a few moments before taking it from your hand. you notice he tries to not make any contact with the hand you have wrapped around the glass.

"jeon jungkook, if you don't forget and pretend nothing happened, i can't let you go." you sit at the couch on the left of the bed, putting more space between you so he'll be more comfortable. you put on your persona and offer him a chance to walk away.

he scoffs at your statement, "where am i? and what the fuck are you talking about? you want me to forget that you were with the person who captured me all those months ago? and goes on with you as my bodyguard? don't you think i need an explanation?" he slams the glass on the table, hand raking through his hair in frustration.

the way he phrases it captures your attention, does he not know that you were also there?

"you're in my room, and if i tell you, jeon jungkook, i can't let you leave this house. i don't want you to get more involved than you already are."

"stop calling me that!" he nearly shouts. you widen your eyes in surprise at his volume.

he lowers his voice, hands gripping the sheets underneath him, "don't call me jeon jungkook, don't put distance between us."

softening your eyes, you cross your legs, softly calling his name, "i can't tell you, jungkook." he snaps his gaze towards you, recognition dawning on him.

he throws his arms up in the air, "even if you don't tell me, there's no way you can let me go anyway, right? i know about you and minhee, i know you were the one driving the car."

there it is. confirmation.

"but if i tell you, you'll get tangled in this mess."

he scoffs, "like I'm not already?"

"you might hate me if i tell you," you worry, biting your lips in an effort to not let it all spill out. the moonlight shines through the blind on your window, providing a dim light that illuminates the room. there it is, the reason you're so hesitant on telling him.

he purses his lips, "what makes you think i don't already?"

your heart drops to your stomach at his words, tears unconsciously welling up at the corner of your eyes.

it's a fear of yours that manifested the moment he invited you over to play games. a worry at the back of your mind when he convinced you to wear casual clothes. you know you shouldn't have let your guard down so easily, but he had been scared, lost, sad, lonely. so you give in, opening your heart for him to nestle himself in.

you close your eyes and will them back, fisting the blanket on your couch. eventually you nod, deciding you owe him an explanation at the very least. "okay."

"that night, we staged the capture. we were never planning to hurt you in any way, money also wasn't the reason." you see him starting to relax, hands fiddling with the string on his sweatpants. "we needed your father to hire someone to protect you, so i can infiltrate my way in to gather intels. we have someone on the inside, someone who will make sure I'll be the one he chooses. i also needed to keep an eye out on you to determine if you were involved."

"the two people who attacked a few weeks ago wasn't us. they were people who wanted to get you because they realized your father will pay them if they managed to get their hands on you."

he knows that, but keeps quiet, letting you continue with your explanation.

you stay silent for a minute, before, "your father is involved in multiple cases of money embezzlement. he had been taking funds from a few public projects, and had also been receiving bribe money from certain companies." jungkook freezes at the reveal, mind going numb at the information.

"we are here to gather information, to reveal it to the public in due time. we are also working to expose the authority so that when we come out with the evidence, it won't be swept under the rug." you shift in your seat, wringing your hands in front of you. "i figured you weren't involved and had no idea about it."

it's a question masks as a statement. dazed, he shakes his head. "he started doing it one year ago, and our mission had been on going for around half of that time. our information wasn't enough just yet, so we needed a way in. i had been collecting evidence, sending them to my team for them to process."

jungkook is still bewildered, mind starting to connect the dots. before he can spiral, however, you intervene his thoughts, "don't worry jungkook, the illegal money is all in an offshore account and had never been used until that night with the 5 million dollars and to pay people to keep quiet about his secret."

he snaps his gaze towards you at the mention of the ransom money, "what did you do with those money?"

you smile sympathetically at him, "we gave it back to the institution." his mind flashes back to the news of an anonymous donation the next day after the incident and a small weight lifted off his shoulder.

you sigh, leaning back on your seat. "I'm sorry to say but right now, you're in my room, in my house. not the apartment."

he blankly stares at you, waiting for more explanation. "unfortunately we can't let you walk around with this knowledge, not now. but once we reach our main goal, I'll make sure you'll be able to leave safely. please believe me when i say we won't hurt you." your words are sincere, eyes gazing at his to convey your honesty.

he hears the door to your room open before he could open his mouth, two people walking in. the smooth voice of minhee cuts through the air, laced with amusement, "so I'm guessing your plan of lying to him didn't work?"

you glare at her from your spot, "don't act like you didn't hear our conversation min." you lay down on the couch, eyes closing in exasperation. "so, what are we supposed to do now?" he recognizes the voice as haeun, a slight shiver running down his spine.

"I'm not gonna say anything." he hopes he sounds convincing enough.

minhee scoffs, rounding the room to sit next to you, lifting your legs and placing them in her lap. "even so, we can't risk it. our identity is on the line, you have to stay here under surveillance until we can figure out what to do with you."

"i don't see any reason why you need to keep me captive if i promise not to tell anyone. nobody will know and your identity will be safe if I'm the only one who know," he argues back, he knows it's probably pointless but it's worth a shot.

"he has a point," you mutter, haeun coming over to lay herself on top of you, crushing you with her weight. minhee swats at her but doesn't complain.

"absolutely not, we can't let him go." a new voice speaks out from the doorway. when jungkook turns his head to look, he found three males standing there, one he recognized as his driver.

he suppresses his gasp at the fact. they walk into the room, closing the door behind them.

"and why not?" you question from under haeun, who is squishing your cheeks with her palms, like you're too cute for her to handle. jungkook doesn't understand why she's doing that.

"he knows too much, simple as that." it clicked in his mind when he hears the drawl of the voice. it's yoongi.

you sound more muffled now, "but he's not gonna tell anyone, i believe him." his heart skips a beat at your declaration. yoongi raises his eyebrow at him, "yeah? but i don't."

minhee is the one who speaks up next "so how long are we planning to keep him here?"

yoongi shrugs and drops to the floor in a starfish position, "as long as it needs."

his mind reels, for the topic of conversation right now, all of you seems to be very relaxed, not worried about jungkook running away and ratting you out to someone. you're basically in a cuddle pile for fuck sake. he confusedly look around, catching the eye of his driver who lift his hand to wave at him.

"oh yeah, that's taehyung. he's also one of us. he's the one who's in charge of getting the information at first, but when we realized it won't be enough, we had to find another way." you had successfully pushed haeun away from you, rolling over so you're now lying face down on the carpet. you sigh loudly "yoongi, what are we supposed to do next?"

the man in question snorts from his place, "i don't fucking know, isn't it your job to figure it out?"

jungkook can stand up right now, he realizes. he can stand up and bolt out the door and away from whatever this is since all of you are distracted. oddly, he doesn't feel the need to.

you roll over on your back, "oh! and that last guy is jimin." the guy in question lift his hand and wave, offering jungkook a friendly smile.

"so you basically kidnapped me, again?" jungkook asks as he leans back on your bed, staring at the navy blue sheets.

"uh… i guess? in a way?" you sound so confused, so unsure, it reminded him of the other version of you he thought he knew. he realizes the two of you would need to talk it out later.

"you're not worried about my father?"

"oh, well, you see, i told him that you impulsively decided to go on a trip with your friends to somewhere where we can't be reached, but i told him I'll keep him updated and he agreed."

he nods, storing that information for pondering later when he can't sleep at night.

the room is quiet after that, each person caught up in their own world. he sees haeun poking minhee in the face, while the girl type something in her phone. taehyung, his former driver is conversing quietly with jimin while you and yoongi appear to be asleep.

he sighs loudly to announce that he is, in fact, still here, garnering your attention from the floor. "this is too much information for one night, can you all leave, i would like to be alone."

they all wordlessly stand up from their spot, yoongi had to be pulled up by both minhee and taehyung, and steps outside your bedroom.

except for you.

you scooch so you're sitting next to the bed, staring up at him, "please don't try to run away or you might get hurt in the process. we have plenty of surveillance and guards that will prevent you from leaving and i can't promise they won't hurt you while doing so."

he holds your gaze, reading the emotion behind it before closing his eyes. "fine but we need to talk."

nodding, you gently take his hand in yours. "i know, we'll talk tomorrow okay? you should get some rest, you did faint after all."

you stand up, letting go of his hand and walking out the door, "finish the water, I'm going to get you some food and then you can go to sleep."

the door shuts behind you, leaving jungkook alone with his thoughts. he wanted badly to stay awake and process all the information but after finishing his meal, his eyes can't help but droop and he decides this time to let sleep overtake the chaos in his mind.

---

when he wakes up the next morning, the curtains are drawn, letting him sleep undisturbed by the blazing sun outside. he rolls over and groans, trying not to think about his situation too much or else his head will explode.

for now, he's just gonna go out on a limb and give you a little bit of his trust, you said you trusted him last night with the identity of you and your whole team, despite how dangerous it is if people found out so he thinks he'll give you back that trust, even just a little bit.

he was about to fall asleep again, the plush bedding and warm blanket lulling him back before the door cracks open and someone walk in. he pretends to be asleep, not knowing who it is.

he feels the bed dip at his side, a hand caressing his head gently. he will his body to relax so the person won't realize he's awake.

"Kook, I'm sorry." it's you, whispering because you think he's still asleep. "i didn't want you to get involved in this mess but I guess… i guess I'd gotten you involved the moment i became your guard, huh?" you're rambling to yourself, hand still gently stroking his hair. "Or maybe the moment i decided to staged that incident."

he hears you sigh, low enough that he thinks you still don't know he's awake but loud enough that he can feel your frustration through it. "i really am sorry, Kook." you whisper one last time, before standing up and tucking the blanket around his shoulder. he hears the door close, and opens his eyes, staring at the wall in front of him.

it's the first time you call him by his nickname.

///

you watched as his friends drove away, waving from inside the car and shouting at the top of their lungs despite only being a few steps away. "bye, kook! We'll see you later! Don't forget to send us your part of the project or I'll hunt you down!" he laughed at the threat, shouting back his confirmation before turning back to you. "come on, let's get inside before we freeze out here." he ushered you inside, bright smile still plastered on his face.

when the both of you were standing in the elevator, you turned to face him to see a thoughtful look on his face. "hey, (y/n)." you hummed in answer. "we're friends, right?"

you blinked at his question, honestly not knowing the answer yourself but he had continued, not waiting for you to answer. "you know, i was thinking, since we're friends, why don't you just call me by my nickname? it's probably a hassle to call me by jungkook all the time, right?"

you hesitated in answering him, because you don't know if you can. it's a warning that minhee gives you everytime she comes over, "don't get too comfortable." it floats around in your mind, plastering itself at the front of your head everytime you give in to his request in trying to befriend you.

he silently stared at you, waiting for your answer. you pursed your lips, trying to lightly brushed it to the side without hurting his feelings too much. "hm, i don't know jungkook. i think I'll stick to calling you by that name, i need to maintain an air of professionalism, right?"

his shoulder dropped at your answer, turning his body to stare at the elevator door in front of him. he sounded dejected when he replied, "yeah… i guess you're right."

not wanting for him to be upset, you quickly reassured him, "but i am your friend, jungkook. just because I'm not calling you by your nickname doesn't mean I'm not." he's still tensed at your response, nodding to signified he doesn't want to talk about it anymore.

you wordlessly complied with his request and he eventually let it go, never bringing it up again in conversation.

///

he ignores the loud chatter inside his mind, all the confusion and doubts cruising through his head. he'll make sure to talk to you later to quiet them. for now, he's going to get some breakfast. looking at the clock which read 8:43, he stands up from your bed, making his way to the door.

only to realize he's completely unfamiliar with the house and won't know where the kitchen is. he debates on waiting for someone to get him, but his grumbling stomach protests his decision, causing him to try to brave through the house by himself.

opening the door to your room, he's greeted by an empty house. he takes his time admiring the place, it doesn't look too big, but it does look luxurious. with marble flooring and ivory walls, the house looks like it's sparkling. he turns right to make his way down the stairs, observing the left of your room has another set of stairs that go up.

he finds himself in what he assumed to be the living room, a place that looks more cozy down here than when he's looking at it from above. he sees a door at the side of the room, walking towards it when he hears people talking.

he walks into the space to see haeun placing two slices of bread at the side of taehyung's face while jimin sits at the counter, giggling. "what are you?" haeun screams. taehyung answers with a deadpan and blank face, "I'm an idiot sandwich." causing jimin to laugh harder, folding in on himself, jungkook fears he might tumble off his chair.

"okay, I'm not eating that bread, it touched tae's face. haeun! stop wasting our bread!" he doesn't realize that minhee is standing by the fridge with a bowl of cereal in her hands. "it's fine, this is tae's bread." the male sighs, taking the bread from haeun and walking over to the toaster. he pops the bread into the toaster before turning around, catching sight of a confused jungkook standing at the doorway.

"oh hey, you're awake. help yourself to some breakfast. we've got plenty." he gestures to the array of food on the table, ranging from fried rice to waffles. "why is there so much food?" is the first question that comes out of his mouth.

"soomin stress cook." minhee answer simply, grabbing a piece of bacon and french toast and plopping them into her empty bowl. jungkook shrugs when nobody else bothered to elaborate, grabbing a plate and scooping a plate of fried rice and some noodles on the side. "dining room that way." taehyung points to the hallway that leads to the side, "(y/n) is there, i think."

he nods at taehyung in thanks, making his way to the dining room after grabbing a glass of milk for himself. he sees you sitting at the table in the middle of the room, laptop and documents splayed out in front of you while you mindlessly munch through your plate of waffles and fruits. two other people sit at the table with you, yoongi on one side and another girl he doesn't recognize on the other.

yoongi notices his presence first, gesturing for him to sit down at the table in front of him. jungkook frowns, is he allowed to be here right now? it seems like you're working. "yes you're allowed, we're not working on anything confidential right now." yoongi answers, apparently he had voiced his question out loud.

nodding, he sits on the table, occasionally glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. you smile at him when he catches your eyes, mouthing "we'll talk later, i promise" before going back to your laptop.

"hello, my name is soomin. i don't believe we've met yet." he snaps his gaze to the girl who just spoke, offering an awkward smile her way. "oh, uh. I'm. I'm jungkook."

she smiles warmly at him, "i know, I've heard about the situation, don't worry. i believe (y/n) told you everything already, right?" he shyly nods.

"then please don't worry, we won't hurt you as long as you don't try anything." his body goes rigid at the thinly veiled threat, hand freezing with the spoon tightly grasped between his fingers. "soo, don't scare him like that, i already talked to him." you step forward when you see him react, trying to quell the tension that suddenly fills the room.

soomin smiles at him before looking back at you, "i know. I'm just making sure. this is our whole team we're talking about here so i just want to make it clear."

you close your eyes and sigh, "i… i know. i just." he turns his gaze to see you biting your lips, eyes staring at the dark wood in front of you.

"I'm so sorry." your apology sounds so small that he's sure he wouldn't have heard it if it weren't for the stillness of the room. soomin's gaze softens, hand moving to squeeze yours that lay on top of the documents, "no, hey. it's okay. it's not your fault."

there's an odd feeling sitting on his chest. a stuffiness that he can't explain everytime he hears you apologize. he decides he doesn't like it. doesn't like it when you blame yourself, doesn't like it when you sound so small like that, doesn't like it when you keep things from him.

yoongi purses his lips at the exchange, "soo, let's go to the kitchen to get some more coffee?" he stands up with his plate and mug, (y/n)? you can take a break and enjoy your breakfast." soomin nods, leaving the two of you alone in the big dining room.

you close the laptop in front of you, gathering the papers into one neat pile before storing them in a briefcase he didn't notice were there. the two of you stay quiet for a while, each enjoying your own breakfast at your own pace.

eventually it's you who break the silence, "any questions you wanted answer to, jungkook?"

he ponders it for a while, starting with "was the you i knew then was real?"

you frown into your plate, lips forming an adorable pout that had jungkook almost cooing at the sight. "well, yeah. why wouldn't she be real?"

he purses his lips, "did you befriend me because you have to?" this time you shake your head, "no. in fact, i wasn't supposed to. i was actually told time and time again to keep my distance."

he gulps at your confession.

"but i chose to be your friend anyway, because…" "because?"

you look up to meet his gaze, honesty coloring your eyes, "because i wanted to. and because i saw that you needed, no, wanted a friend too." his gaze softens at that.

you continue, "everything between us was real, it wasn't because it was my job to be your friend, gain your trust and betray you in the end. i-" stuttering, you bring up your hand to wipe a stray tear. "i didn't want to hurt you, even though i guess in the end, i would have regardless."

because in the end, your goal is to take down his father, essentially betraying him in a sense. befriending jungkook wasn't part of the plan, it was something you didn't see happening while you were mulling over the plan to take down the governor.

jungkook stays quiet, processing the information you just laid out for him. you stand up with your plate, sensing the conversation is over for now. when you pass by him, you place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it once to provide reassurance. just before you walk out of the dining room, you ask "and jungkook, you know that I have to reveal it to the public, right?" i have to take down your father, is left unsaid.

he nods because he knows. no matter what, the people need to know about the corruption, the authorities need to do something about it, and his father needs to own up to his actions.

you nod at him, sending a quick smile before leaving him by himself so he can think.

---

a few hours later, he finds you crouching in the garden next to the house, watering and tending to a variety of vegetables. he hesitates on how to strike up a conversation.

"so, uh, the bedroom I'm staying in is yours?" you flinch when you hear his voice, not expecting someone else to be in the garden with you. you look up at him from your position, hands midway to picking a tomato off its vines, "oh! uh yeah." he nods awkwardly, eyes scanning the content of the garden. "where are you staying then?"

you pick the remaining ripe tomatoes off, placing it in the basket next to you, soomin is going to be overjoyed that they've grown so well after that disastrous harvest. "in the guest bedroom next to the dining room. it's usually unoccupied so i can stay there as long as i need."

he crouches down next to you, grabbing a tiny shears to help. you watch curiously from the side, wondering if he knows which one to pluck off and which one to leave behind. you pull out the pesky weeds next to your precious cucumbers, keeping an eye on jungkook to make sure he's not going to accidentally ruin your crops. soomin will murder both of you.

curiouslyly, he knows exactly what to do with his tiny shears, removing the excess branches and cutting off any dead leaves and buds. "can you show me around later? around the house? it's… uh… a pretty large house."

you eye the patch of leafy greens at the side, debating if you should pick them today or leave it another week. "yeah okay, sure."

the air is tensed between the two of you, but you can't exactly pinpoint the reason. is it you? did the talk affect you more than you thought? or maybe jungkook just doesn't trust you anymore, given the circumstances. maybe he decided that you're-

you feel him grabbing your wrist before you can finish your thoughts, staring at his wide eyes in front of you. "you were spacing out while holding a scissors." frowning, you look down to see that you are indeed holding a scissor that look too close to your other hand for comfort. you mumble, "sorry."

jungkook huffs at that, gentle but stern when he talks, "why do you say sorry so much? i don't think you have anything you need to apologize for." widening your eyes, you stare back at him, not understanding what he's saying. he sighs at your expression, shaking his head at you before continuing with his task.

you decide to let it go for now when you see his annoyed expression, watching as he cuts dead leaves off your cucumbers plants. curious, you ask, "how do you know about pruning?"

he huffs a laugh this time, "i think even without gardening knowledge, anybody will know that you need to cut off these stems and leaves."

"yeah, but you pruned the branches of the tomatoes, the new ones." he hums at your question, "i used to help my mom when she worked in her garden." you blink at the unexpected answer, you don't think you've ever heard him talk about her in all the months you've worked alongside him.

a small "oh" leaves your lips, not wanting to pry any further. it garners an amused smile from him. "currently, she's in another country, had been for the last two years. but we keep in contact quite often."

you purse your lips from trying to ask a question but it seems like he reads it on your face anyway, "they both have a pretty good relationship, he's pretty supportive of her pursuing her interest." and he leaves it at that.

the two of you work in silence for the next few minutes, making sure there's no pests or weeds left that risk ruining your, well soomin's, perfect garden.

you stand up once you're done, almost falling over when you realize your legs fell asleep while you were working. thankfully, you caught yourself, wrapping your palms around jungkook's biceps to prevent yourself from face planting into a patch of cabbage.

again, soomin will murder you if you damage her precious veggies. you don't know why she's so protective over her cabbage in particular.

jungkook snickers at your blunder, placing the shears on a toolbox next to his feet. you immediately let go of him when you feel the muscles shift underneath your hands, resisting the urge to slap yourself out of it. he moves to grab the basket full of vegetables, placing a hand between your shoulder blade to help you walk.

you turn your face away, hoping he didn't see your flaming cheeks. absentmindedly, you think, the two of you are okay.

---

you stand in front of the door with jungkook next to you, hands on your hips, "this is the front door." he blinks at you, "yeah i know?"

you point at the room behind it, "that's the living room." "I'm perfectly aware."

you throw your hands up, "you said you wanted me to show you around!" he laughs loudly at that, "i already know about the first floor. beside! we're standing outside the house right now! I'm 100% we look ridiculous. you're pretty bad at being a guide huh"

you pout, "fine," and walk inside the house, flopping down onto the couch in the middle of the living room. "I'll explain it verbally instead. first floor is the living room, the kitchen, dining room, a bathroom and my bedroom."

he maps it in his mind, your bedroom must be at the back of the dining room. "second floor is the rest of the bedroom and a family room, next to the bedroom you're staying in right now. that's just where we hangout usually."

he looks up at the second floor at that, counting the doors, "how many people are there?"

"10 including you."

"there are only 7 rooms on the second floor."

you nod, grabbing the remote at the coffee table in front of you. "jimin and tae share a room, mirae and narae also share a room."

you turn on the television, stopping at a documentary channel, "there's also two more bedrooms on the third floor, along with a gym room, an office, and a game room."

"big house, huh." he mutters.

"it does have 9 people living in it so yes, it needs to be large to be comfortable, don't you think?" a voice speaks from upstairs. when he looks up, it's soomin. "i- yeah. i guess so."

he watches as she walks down the stairs, and freezes in alarm when she stops in front of him. "I'm sorry about this morning, by the way, i was just protective of my team."

her gaze flicks to you when she says, "surely you understand, right?"

he purses his lips together, brows furrowing. "yeah." his gaze moves to you for a second before going back to her, "i understand."

she nods in satisfaction, hiking her backpack higher before addressing you, "well i gotta go now. I'll be back in a few days, don't cause any trouble while I'm away, okay? please keep haeun away from my garden."

you nod distractedly, eyes still glued on the tv in front of you, "bye! stay safe!"

she fondly rolls her eyes before sending a quick smile his way in curtesy. she closes the front door behind her and a few seconds later jungkook hears the sound of a car driving away.

"by the way, do i get any access to internet? phone? computer?" he knows the answer but no harm in asking. he sits at one of the comfortable armchairs next to the couch.

you hum from your seat, "I'll see what i can do but I'm afraid I can't give you your own phone or computer. haeun will probably do something about the phone situation and if you want, you can go to our game room to use the computers. everything's been secured there."

you side eye him, "we can't really risk you making contact with anyone outside. just, you know. a lot of, uh" you stutter, obviously trying your best to not insult or hurt his feelings. he had to bite his lips to keep from laughing at your endearing reaction.

"it's okay, i get it, really." you sigh in relief at his reassurance, nodding at him before going back to focus on the tv.

he hears a door open somewhere, haeun emerging from the kitchen with a bag of chips in one hand. jungkook averts his stare, she still scares him a little bit, not a lot, just a little. on her way to the stairs, she tosses a box in his lap and when jungkook looks down, it's a brand new phone.

"it's been secured, no way you can contact anyone without me finding out so don't even try." and then she disappears into one of the rooms upstairs just like that. he notices her room is the one to the left of yours.

you smile at him, "sorry, you're gonna be off the grid for a while." he shrugs at that, he thinks he doesn't mind it too much now.

---

he's only been here three days, but he already finds himself getting comfortable around your friends. once the wariness had wore off and they're sure he could be trusted, they had started warming up to him.

jimin had been one of the first one to approach him, asking him if he wanted to work out with him in the gym room. jungkook had accepted the invitation and now jimin had dubbed him as his workout buddy since yoongi and taehyung won't budge when he asked them.

they usually spend a few hours in the gym, exercising together and making light conversations. he finds jimin to be very friendly, sometimes a little too friendly for someone he literally just met a few days ago.

taehyung had been the second person he befriended. apparently, walking into the game room had been enough to get taehyung to open up to you. now, taehyung pesters him to game with him anytime he has time to play, complaining that no one else in the house is interested in playing with him except for haeun who's busy most of the time and jungkook is happy to entertain him.

on the other hand, he doesn't see the trio all that much around the house, and the time he does, the interaction is usually short lived and curt. but he does feel that they're trying to be nicer to him. it's just that, with the history of their past interaction, it gets kinda awkward sometimes.

he also doesn't see you as much as he would like now, only seeing you in the morning for breakfast and at night for dinner in the dining room, each time always checking up on how he's doing. he doesn't know where you go for the rest of the day.

truth be told, he misses hanging out with you.

he rolls over in bed, standing up to close the curtains when he hears a knock on his door. tilting his head to the side, he wonders who it is and opens the door to you standing in front of him, hair wet like you just took a shower, flustered.

"uh hey."

"hey."

"so- sorry. I'm just here to grab some stuffs?" he remembers that this is, in fact, your room. "Oh! Of course," and steps to the side, allowing you to come in.

you make a bee line to your wardrobe, throwing the door open to grab your clothes. he hesitantly sits on his, well, your bed, hand awkwardly placed in his lap while he watches you sort your clothes into a bag you have with you.

he coughs to get your attention, "um, you know. you can just stay in this room?"

you freeze in your place when you hear him, "wha- what. what do you mean?"

he notices how he phrases his question, quickly backtracking to avoid embarrassing himself, "i mean! maybe you can just stay here and i can stay at the guest bedroom you're staying in right now? this is your room after all and all of your things are probably here while i have my things in a bag and can easily relocate to the other bedroom, i also don't want to intrude on your private space."

you turn around to sit next to him on the bed, "are you sure?" "yeah, it's fine."

you mull over his question for a while, "no, it's okay. this room is closer to the other's rooms."

he deflates at that, he thought you trusted him? "so it doesn't feel as stifling as that one since it's so far away." you shift your body towards him, "this room feels a lot more comfortable, so i would like for you to stay here instead so your stay here would be more comfortable too." he perks back up at that, heart skipping a beat at your thoughtfulness. "this room is also bigger."

"you're really cute." oh shit, he said that out loud. your expression doesn't change, most likely because you're so surprised but he does see pink tinging your cheeks.

"tha- right. oh! i mean, thanks. i- i guess?" you're really cute, he thinks. you quickly stand up, going back to your wardrobe with impressive speed, "right i need to, uh i need to pack some more clothes."

you start shoving clothes into your bag, and jungkook worries he made you uncomfortable.

"sorry, i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." he apologizes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

you stop packing, a black garment in your hands when you turn back around to look at him. "no! it's not- I'm not- don't apologise- it's-"

he raises his eyebrows at you,

"I'm, I'm just embarrassed, sorry."

"you don't have to apologize."

"right! right, sorry."

he chuckles at that, redirecting the conversation to another topic to avoid prolonging the awkwardness, "so, um." he doesn't really know how to bring it up but he decides to just go for it. "where have you been lately? i haven't seen you around that much."

you continue packing some clothes and move to the desk to grab some more things. "oh, I've been kinda busy lately, with some-" you cough, "with some work. it's just some documents and things and yeah."

he senses that you're trying to not to reveal too much which probably means it has something to do with why he's here. he decides to let it slide, not wanting to pry too much into it. "i see."

you zip up your bag once you're done, turning around to sit back beside him on the bed, "why? is something the matter?"

"oh, no. it's just." he hesitates for a brief moment. "i just miss you, it's all." he grumbles underneath his breath, kind of embarrassed.

you take his hands in your and squeeze, "I'm sorry. i know it must be hard to adapt to a new environment without someone you're familiar with, right? I'll try to make more time, okay?" he wants to tell you he's perfectly adapted to his new environment and that he just misses spending time with you but he keeps his mouth shut, running his thumb across your knuckles.

he nods but stays quiet, staring at your hands between his. "how about we go watch some movies? I'm free right now," you offer after hearing his prolonged silence.

his shoulders perk up at that, "really?"

smiling, you nod enthusiastically. "yeah! you can go pick a movie and I'll get some snacks downstairs." you stand up, pulling him with you out the door and guiding him to the room next door.

he's never been to this room before. "I'll go get the snacks!" you shout as you quickly run downstairs, to the direction of the kitchen.

the room is large, being one of the master bedroom, and cozy. half of the floor is covered with comfortable rug, soft enough to lay on with a large tv pressed against one of the walls. a shelf sat underneath it with a coffee table in front of it, surrounded by large sofas and multiple bean bags covered with blankets.

he makes his way towards the shelf under the tv after turning on the light, browsing through the movie selection of the house. you come back a few minutes later with three large bags of potato chips and two bottles of water, dumping them on the coffee table before joining him in browsing for the perfect movie.

he settles on the floor after picking the movie, leaning against the couch behind him so he can be closer to the chips. you lay down on the couch behind him, hand dangling over his shoulder to steal some of his chips instead. "you haven't seen this one yet, right?" he asks around a mouthful of chips.

"no." you mumble into the couch, one hand unconsciously massaging the knots on his shoulder. he shivers at the sensation, willing himself to stay put. "do you know what kinda movie this is?"

"no."

"it's a horror movie."

"oh."

he twists his body to look at you, "are you okay with that?" you blink sleepily at him, lips curving down into a confused pout, "yeah I'm fine with that." he nods at that and focuses back on the screen.

he's pretty embarrassed to admit that he flinches more than you despite being the one who picked the movie but the feeling is overshadowed by his feelings of contentment to be able to spend some more time with you.

one movie turns into a marathon and before he realizes it, the both of you had fallen asleep, comfortable in each other's presence.

---

contrary to what you said, for the next couple of days, he actually sees less of you than before, only seeing you in the morning for breakfast. in fact, he had seen less of the others in the house too. it's like he's back in his apartment again, alone, just in a bigger space.

today is the first time jimin had asked him to go to the gym again, citing that he was busy the last few days and unable to work out. he walks into the gym expecting to find jimin already on weights but is surprised when he sees you and yoongi at the corner of the room, sparring.

"hope you don't mind." jimin says from next to him, wiping the sweat on his forehead with the towel around his neck. he jumps in surprise when he hears him, quickly shaking his head to bring his thoughts back, "no i don't mind it's okay."

he steals a quick glance at you, eyes scanning over your practice clothes. flustered, he coughs when he sees you throw a punch to yoongi's rib, and averts his eyes somewhere else, feeling his cheeks heat up.

not looking back at where you are, he makes his way to the treadmill at the other side of the room, putting his headphones on so he won't be tempted to look back.

it's not like it's the first time he's seen you in a more casual, more revealing clothing. it's just that the sight amplifies the odd butterflies he feels on his stomach.

he feels his heart beat a little quicker but he doesn't think it's the treadmill. for now, he'll shove it all into a box labeled "later" for him to address another time.

these past few days, he can feel the tension in the house rising without a single word being exchanged, and seeing you practice with yoongi confirms his thoughts. all of you were planning on something, he just doesn't know what.

when he's done with his run, he takes off his headphones and moves to the weights. focusing himself on his exercise instead of you, snapping his gaze up when he hears the door to the gym open. "(y/n), yoongi, come with me. we need to talk." soomin says, turning around to leave before receiving a confirmation.

he sees you and yoongi stand up, gulping down water before walking out the door without so much of a nod of acknowledgement. before you close the door, you send an apologetic smile his way.

he hopes everything's alright.

---

that night, he couldn't quell his curiosity and finds himself walking to your door after dinner. you didn't come down from the office for dinner, only appearing for a short while to grab a cup of coffee before disappearing back into your room. he knocks on the wood and waits, shifting his weight around when he doesn't hear any movement.

he was about to turn around to leave when the door swung open, revealing you on the other side. if jungkook pays close enough attention, he can see the faint dark circles underneath your eyes. "hey jungkook. what's up?"

"can i… can i talk to you?" he toys with the zipper on his jacket, gaze bouncing around to avoid looking at you.

you step to the side to let him in, "sure. what do you want to ask?"

"it's just, I'm just wondering." he sits on the chair next to the door while you take a seat on your desk where he can see piles of papers scattered on top of it. you tilt your head to the side in question, urging him to continue his question.

"why is everyone so busy lately? it seems like everyone's a little tense?"

you freeze at his question, eyes going wide for a split second before you sigh, slumping into the leather chair. "i guess i should tell you."

he frowns, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his lap. "tell me what?"

"we're publicizing the information tomorrow. regarding your father."

he tries to process the words, he really did. tries to find a place in his mind where he can store the sentence, but he just couldn't. he doesn't know what to think. should he be upset? angry? terrified? sad? relieved? he doesn't know.

he just feels numb.

you continue when you don't hear him speak, "he will be arrested and the money will be seized by the government. I'll try to damage control as much as i can so your family doesn't get the brunt of it."

he didn't realize that you had moved to crouch down in front of him, placing a reassuring hand on top of his to bring him back from his mind. "we'll be returning from said vacation in about two days in pretense that we heard the news, and then I'll either get fired or resigned so my cover won't be blown. and i," you trail off, gripping his hand just a little tighter.

"i really hope that you don't betray my trust. i know that, that it's risky. it's so, so risky to let you go with the amount of information you have on us. especially now that you know significantly more than anyone else ever involved with us. but i just, i can't let you get tangled in this mess much more. so i really hope that once all of this is over, i can let you go and you can move on with your life, try to forget about us. put all of this behind you and live happily.

"i hope that me trusting you with all of this won't be my downfall. because i know how easy it is for you to just walk to the authority and reveal everything you know about us. but i really really hope that my choice to believe in you won't hurt my team because i really don't want you to get hurt anymore either."

his mind runs through every concerns you just revealed to him. pulling you onto his lap, he wraps his arms around your waist, face dangerously close to yours. "i don't want to forget about you." his voice is so faint that you doubt you'll be able to hear it if not for the proximity of your face.

he closes his eyes and sighs, resting his forehead against yours. you place your hand on his shoulder, eyes softening at the emotions coloring his face. "it's my turn to talk now, okay?" he opens his eyes to stare at you, gaze more intense than that time he lost to mario kart. you nod mutely at his request.

"i know you're scared of me holding this knowledge with me because you're scared that i might be angry at you and your team for what you're doing but it's not true." his gaze softens when he looks at you, soft lights framing your worried face. "I'm not angry at you, what you're doing is necessary, I'm more angry at him, angry at myself for not knowing but mostly angry at him for letting greed overcome him. so don't worry about me going to the authority, i won't."

he rubs comforting circles at the small of your back, watching as your posture relax slightly in his hold. "i also don't want to move on and forget about you. i don't want to lose you, don't want to put you and everything else behind me." it's obvious you want to interject, but you kept your promise of letting him talk.

"despite it all, your team had become my friends too so i don't want to forget about them either. i hope that once this is all over, you'll let me stay by your side and be around you. i feel safer with you, I'm happier with you." he'll keep the rest of his confession to himself for now, deeming it not the right time just yet.

you rest your head on his shoulder, hands unconsciously playing with their hair on his nape. "but i can't let you stay, it's dangerous and complicated."

you sound so confused, so lost, unsure and uncertain, that all jungkook wanted to do is hold you tight to him and assure you it'll be alright.

he rests his head against yours, "we'll figure it out. I'll be by your side, i promise."

---

"Governer Jeon revealed to be involved in embezzlement."

"An anonymous tip was received last night, revealing that the well respected governor had been embezzling money from multiple public projects and storing them in an offshore account. Other than taking money from the goverment, it's known that he had also been receiving bribe money from multiple companies for various reasons for the past year. Many questions how he had been able to avoid detection for quite some time.

Since the information had been revealed, Governor Jeon had been arrested this morning and taken into custody to await for trials. All of the money will be seized by the goverment and will be redistributed back to the projects with lacking funds.

It's revealed that all the money has never been used before other than paying other involved parties, except for a withdrawal of 5 million dollars a few months ago, apparently after the kidnapping of his son. Some posit a theory that the 5 million donations the next day have been from the people who took his son, determined to get the money the former governor had stolen back to it's rightful owner.

Staffs and family members will be questioned by the police, but it is believed that none of his family members had been aware of his secret, being that he had never withdrawn the money for anything else, suggesting he was hoarding the money for himself for when his reign as the governor end next year.

Read more to find out about the full evidence submitted last night and other parties involved in the scandal."

---

jungkook busies himself by staying at the game room today, not in the mood to talk to anyone or accidentally listening to the news. it's not that he's angry at you and your team, he just doesn't want to know what kind of look they will give him. remorse? pity? disdain?

he knows that they know he's not involved and that he's against it as much as them but he can't help but fear how the reveal might change their perspective on him. thankfully, they didn't bother him, letting him have his time alone to process everything. that, or maybe they're busy. he'd like to believe it's the former.

he also needs to brace himself for the hectic days that's to come when he gets back, no doubts he will be questioned by the police and quite possibly run into some news reporters, eager to write the story.

he's glad that it's his break or he might lose his mind if he has to go to school on top of everything. he's restarting another game when the door opens, internally groaning to himself, he really doesn't want to be bothered today.

he feels someone placing something on the desk next to him, it's a plate of noodles and a glass of milk. he turns his head to find you standing next to him, sending a quick smile before turning around to leave.

he reaches for your wrist before you can take a step, patting the chair next to him when you pivot to look at him in question. you wordlessly comply, sitting down and scooting the chair closer to him.

he's the first one to break the silence, "what am i supposed to do with the police and reporters?"

"answer the police truthfully, they already know you're not involved, it's all just for show and protocol. same with the reporters, they just want confirmation for what they already know. I'll still be your bodyguard for the next few days, so I'll help you deal with them."

" and if it makes you feel any better, your mom has arranged you another bodyguard for the time being."

he straightens at that, turning his chair to face you. "really? how did you know?"

"she contacted me, said she'll assign another person to help because one probably won't be enough for now. at least until everything has settled."

nodding, he grabs the glass and chugs the drink inside. you'd think he's taking a shot if it doesn't look like a glass of milk.

you place a hand on his back, and he muses he likes it when you touch him. "it's gonna be okay jungkook. I'll be by your side, okay?"

"i know."

you spend the rest of the day in the game room with him, watching him play games by himself and occasionally making snarky comments from the side. nobody else came to bother him that day, a fact that he's grateful for.

---

the morning came too soon for his liking, the day he has to go back and deal with everything causing his heart to beat loudly in nervousness. he hikes up the bag on his shoulder, waiting in the living room for you to come out of your room.

haeun tosses his phone back to him and when he checks, he has hundreds of unread messages. some from his mom, a few from unknown numbers, and a lot from his friends. true to your words, it seems like everybody believes that his family and himself is in no way involved with the incident. most texts are asking if he's heard the news, if he's okay and to contact them back when he can.

everyone seems to be aware that he's on a supposed vacation where he can't be reached and he's sure it's haeun's doing.

he's still scrolling through his message when you come to stand next to him, with your own bags to make it look believable. "ready?" you ask.

shrugging in response, he shoves his phone into his pockets, deciding he'll deal with them later. "i guess."

"alright, there's a car that'll come pick you up in a minute and it'll drive you back straight to your apartment." haeun tells him, walking up the stairs with a loaf of bread in her hands to get back to her room.

a second later he sees a car pulling up to the front of the house, a sleek black SUV waiting for him. you settle yourself on the back seat, but he hesitates briefly before climbing into the car, this time without a threat of a gun pressed against his back.

the drive is silent for the rest of the way and he's ought to thank you for that. he doesn't really want to think, let alone speak. instead, he spends his time going through his messages, replying to every message and deleting the unnecessary one, namely from press. he should probably change his number after this.

soon enough, he arrives at his apartment building where a few reporters are waiting outside. it's not as crowded as he thought it'll be and he's glad for that. you slide out of the car before him, putting on your bodyguard persona once again before opening his door for him when you deem it safe.

they immediately rush to him, throwing questions after questions without listening for an answer first. thankfully, with your presence next to him, they don't crowd around him, standing far enough that he can still move around. he listens to what you told him last night, answering the necessary questions truthfully and that seems enough to placate them into letting him walk inside his building and away from them.

before he gets the chance to get inside the elevator however, he's stopped by your hand gently clasping around his wrist. "your mom's bodyguard is here."

he looks to see a tall man walking his way, with a suit similar to yours and sleek back dark hair. "hello. I'm kim seokjin, your temporary bodyguard."

he curtly nods in greeting, he just wants to get back to his apartment, not feeling like exchanging pleasantries with anyone. without saying another word, he speed walks to the elevator, pushing the buttons in agitation.

in record speed, he reaches his door and before entering, addresses the both of you, "i want to be alone for the rest of the day, please. I'll come get you if i need to go outside."

you nod in understanding, sending a glance to seokjin who also nods before walking to the end of the hallway. "are you gonna be okay?" you ask once seokjin is far enough. he purses his lips, "eventually," and close the door behind him.

---

for the next few days, jungkook is preoccupied with the police and press, and when he's not going out to attend the meetings with the authorities, he stays inside and shuts himself out. you're starting to worry about him, but you know he really does need the time to himself.

in the meanwhile, you familiarize seokjin with everything he needs to know, telling him that your contract is about to end and there's a possibility you're not going to be jungkook's bodyguard anymore. he had nod in understanding and promise to you that he'll do his best to protect him.

you knock on the door to his apartment, nervously shifting in your place. when he opens his door, he looks exhausted, prominent dark circles decorating his face. worried, you frown, stepping inside his apartment and placing your hands on his face to examine him.

"are you okay? you look like you haven't been sleeping."

he closes his eyes at your touch, "yeah, yeah everything's fine, i don't know I'm just." he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "there was just some things i needed to take care of. everything's fine now."

you nod, bringing a hand up to rub his back. "i came here because i needed to tell you something."

he hums, arms slightly tightening their hold on you. "i know, your contract ends tomorrow, right?"

you hum in answer, pulling away from him to guide him to the couch. he sits close to you, resting his head on your shoulder and holding your hand between his. "so after tomorrow, you're not someone who works for me anymore."

"uh huh."

"so should i tell you i love you after your contract ends or can i tell you now?"

you freeze in his hold, not expecting him to bring this topic up right now. both of you had been skirting around the conversation long enough. your heart skips a beat at his statement, and you try to supress the smile playing on your lips.

"well, do you want me to tell you i love you too after or before my contract ends?" you don't know when you realize you were in love with him, but you have a feeling it's before he even fainted into your arms and had to be taken to your house.

the realization wasn't a loud declaration, but more of a soft whisper at the back of your mind. when you told minhee about it, she had barked out a laughter and said "took you long enough to realize."

he squeezes your hand, turning his head to place a tiny kiss on your jaw. "tomorrow then."

laying on his bed that night, jungkook thinks tomorrow can't come soon enough.

---

the next day, you walk out of the office with lighter steps, your mission is done, your undercover role is thoroughly finished and you can finally go back to your house again.

while packing your bags in your former apartment, you can't help but think about how jungkook will fit into the puzzle. he had stated that he wanted to stay, and had been pretty determined in his stance. you entertain the thought of him joining your team for a whole second before throwing it out the window.

you don't want him to get hurt, you don't want him to be involved in something so complicated and confusing. you want him to be able to live normally and happily.

a knock on your door startles you out of your thoughts, you zip up your bag before placing it on the ground, opening the front door to find jungkook standing there with a big smile on his face.

"can i come in?"

you smile back at him, stepping to the side to let him in before closing the door behind you.

you turn around to see him standing behind you, hands reaching out to pull you close to him. "I love you. I'm so in love with you."

you wrap your arms around his shoulder, burying your face in the crook of his neck. you mutter loud enough for him to hear, "I'm in love with you too."

the confession fills you with warmth and makes you feel lighter at the same time.

he moves the two of you back until he can sit down on the couch with you on his lap. "can't you just move into my apartment or something." he grumbles to your hair, hands splayed on your shoulder blade.

you chuckle at his tone, peppering light kisses to the side of his neck that cause him to squirm. "no, i can't. I'm sorry."

he sighs, "i guess it's fine." hesitantly, he asks, "i can still meet you and go to your place, right?"

you pull back to look at him, pursing your lips in thought, mulling over the situation, "not yet."

he frowns at that, "what do you mean?"

"seokjin is your bodyguard now, you can't go anywhere without him and we can't have someone knowing about where we live or who we are, even though he has no idea about it."

biting his lips, he closes his eyes in frustration. "so? am i supposed to wait until he's gone to see you?"

you take his face between your hands, smoothing his eyebrows with your thumbs, "hey, i can still come over and meet you. you just can't go to our house. it'll be fine."

his frown turns into a pout, one you want to kiss until it turns into a smile. so you gently place your lips on top of his, feeling as the corner of his lips turns upwards. he reciprocates the gestures, capturing your lips between his and pulling you impossibly closer to him. you pull back when you need air, jungkook chasing your lips before opening his eyes. you muse on how beautiful he look.

"how about you come over to my apartment right now?" he playfully smirks at you, hands moving slowly down your back. you bit back a smile at his offer, "yeah? what for? i should be heading home right now, you know."

he moves closer to your face, "just, you know. to play games." you try to contain your laughter, "no can do. gotta get going, have some errands to run."

he pouts at your answer, moving to steal another kiss before relenting, "fine."

standing up from your seat, you grin at him, slinging on the backpack and grabbing the bag you have with you, "maybe next time, kook."

his face breaks out into a large smile at the mention of his nickname, eyes scrunching cutely. he stands to accompany you, reaching for your hand to intertwine with his. you meet seokjin on your way down, nodding at him in goodbye and gratitude. jungkook orders him to not follow him, garnering a protest from seokjin that results in a back and forth bicker between the two. you watch with amusement as seokjin lectures him, jungkook shooting back rebuttal in a playful manner.

eventually jungkook wins, letting the two of you have more time alone before having to depart. once you reach your car, you squeeze his hand one more time, reaching to plant a kiss on his cheek. he seems unsatisfied with it, moving to capture your lips between his once again.

you giggle into the kiss, feeling him smile underneath your lips. reluctantly, he parts way from you when minhee taps on the window impatiently.

"I'll call you, okay?"

"okay. I love you."

you softly smile at him, eyes crinkling in endearment, "I love you too," and climb into the car. as the car drives away, you think, the two of you will be alright.

---

the sun shines brightly through the windows, causing you to groan and roll over to avoid accidentally blinding yourself when you open your eyes. the person next to you stirs, grip around your waist tightening momentarily before relaxing again. hoarsely, you cough out a question, "babe, did you forget to close the curtains last night?"

jungkook mumbles in his sleep, something that sounds like "what are you talking about? what's a curtain?" you're not quite sure but it sure doesn't sound like "i didn't close it, I'm sorry." so you roll over again until you fall to the carpet, sitting up and dragging yourself to the window to pull the curtains close so you can go back to sleep.

when you flop back onto the bed, you mumble sleepily into his ear, "kook, it's already 20 minutes past 8, you should probably hurry to your meeting with mirae and narae." at your words, he bolts up from his position, looking more awake like he had chugged 3 cups of coffee in one sitting. that's the effect the twins have on people, they truly hate it when people are late.

he scrambles to change his clothes, not even bothering to go to the bathroom to freshen up, muttering a chant of "fuck shit they're going to be so fucking pissed. fucking damnit."

he doesn't forget to kiss you before bolting out the door, slamming the door shut behind him as you hear his footsteps echoes through the house. if the twins don't get to him first, yoongi will, since you're sure he just woke him up.

2 months ago you completed your mission and moved away from your apartment. 2 weeks later, you find jungkook at your doorstep with a proposition in his mind and no seokjin behind him. a week later, you watch as jungkook chugged a glass of beer mixed with hot sauce, something taehyung and haeun dubbed as "initiation" but jimin preferred to call it a "celebratory" drink as jungkook officially joined your team.

it's been a little over a month since he settled into everything, and it seems like he adapted well enough into his new life. you smile to yourself at that. sure, you'd been apprehensive at first at the prospect but when you see how determined he is, you decided to relent and follow along.

unsurprisingly, he's good at whatever task soomin threw his way, easily completing it in record speed and usually leaving her speechless when he goes to report to her. he also learned martial arts pretty quickly, something you know yoongi is pleased at because of how he call him his "best student" and "(y/n) it took you 5 months to learn this move and this guy got it in 2 days." which cause your eye to twitch in annoyance that you have to supress the urge to throttle yoongi.

he hadn't been assigned any significant mission just yet, only helping others with theirs for now, but by the look of it, yoongi and soomin might let him lead his own mission soon, impressed by his capabilities.

you look over to the clock at your bedside table, groaning to yourself when you see the 8:58 blinking back at you. deciding you won't be able to fall back asleep, you drag yourself downstairs to get some breakfast, remembering that yoongi is cooking today since soomin is out of town. the thought of yoongi cooking relieves you since the last time both of them were out of the house, haeun had managed to burnt 3 pots and broke two cups while taehyung stands to the side with a bucket of water in case something caught on fire.

when you reach the kitchen, you find it to be empty, plates of waffles neatly stacked on the counter with some foil over it to keep it warm. you fix a plate for yourself and jungkook, sitting at the counter with a glass of orange juice next to you.

before you finish your plate, you feel someone wrapping their arms around your waist from behind, jungkook's head resting against your shoulder. "i narrowly escaped their wrath."

"yeah? how angry were they though?"

"angry enough to keep me on garden duty while soomin is out of town."

"huh, not too bad. once, taehyung was late for literally 47 seconds and they had his games restricted for a week." he hisses in sympathy, "yikes."

"uhuh, they're going easy on you. i fixed you a plate of waffles already, and there's a new carton of milk for you in the fridge." you detach yourself from him, putting your dishes on the sink before turning to look at him. "i have some documents i had to send, so I'll be at the office, alright?"

he kisses you deeply before you leave, one hand resting on the small of your back while the other holds the side of your face.

"bro! this is a kitchen! take that shit somewhere else, some of us are single!" haeun screams from the doorway.

you part way from his lips, laughing loudly on your way out. "I love you babe."

he shouts back from the kitchen, "I love you too!"

yoongi shouts from his room. "shut the fuck up!"

the house breaks into a laughter at that, and you reckon, the house feels warmer now.

#btsghostie #bts scenarios #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #dear koo #writings

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saintobio · 3 years

Note

omg this is my first ask in a while since wastelands and sorryy that it’s long

okay, i have a quick question, i don’t remember if this was mentioned in the previous chapters, but how long has gojo been with sera again?

in this chapter he said that he initially began dating her to spite his dad and then fell in love but I kind of feel like he’s not actually fully in love. instead i think that he might just be in love with the idea that being with her still gets his dad angry and keeping their relationship somewhat demonstrates how he has a small amount of control over that aspect of his life even though it has to continue in secret and he has to be married to the mc.

now on to sera, i don’t like her nor do i hate her, I guess i’m just indifferent because we can’t really judge her for falling in love with gojo, and at the end of the day she’s was there first. it’s not like she’s with him just bc of his money (unless that eventually ends up being the case...why didn’t she mention the money she got from his dad yet...? anyways we don’t really know her intentions except that she loves him) but the way that she began to judge the mc immediately after seeing her at the office didn’t sit well with me bc she really doesn’t have the right to call her , “a spoiled brat, and a pompous heiress who believed in classism” simply because of gojo’s descriptions about her.

that’s definitely one thing that she has in common with gojo, they both judged mc based on villainous ideas that they created for themselves using the fact that they both view her as a obstacle to their relationship.

at the same time, i also feel like she might became a different person once she finds out that gojo has been intimate with his wife, so that’s exactly why I’m still indifferent about her lol. and there’s two secrets between them now, that and the money that she received.

“Please, let us be together even in secret. We both know that you can’t force him to love you so if you care for how he feels, the best way to deal with the situation is to just let things be.” this statement is a little selfish and dense of her to ask because sera doesn’t control his every feeling. it’s very possible that as time goes by they can change to eventually exchange sera’s place in his heart for the mc. and at the end of the day, mc has every right to ask sera to end the relationship because she’s the wife, it’s just not in her character to do that because like she has said multiple times, she would’ve never accepted the marriage had she known sera existed.

I do think that both her and gojo need to get their heads out of the clouds because the reality, and as unfortunate as it is, is that her and gojo aren’t meant to be together because classism exits and they’ll most likely be judged immediately.

gojo is also kind of an idiot because it’s gonna be extremely damaging for him if his dad finds out that they’re still together in secret. he might just end up losing a lot. both him and sera honestly might need to start thinking about the potential repercussions more.

also mc hiding the birth control pills in her makeup bag might also come back to bite her in the ass and i’m not prepared for the possibility that 😭

and pls what if you pull another love always... I think this mc might a heart problem and the stress from her marriage isn’t helping ...since she’s so selfless maybe she won’t even burden gojo with the news but then again their relationship is bound to progress into something different depending on the direction you planned the story

again, i’m sorry this is so long and as always I loved this chapter and am gonna prepare my heart for more.. but i’ve also become immune to your angst at this point, haha

gojo and sera have been together for a year and a half! sera reminds gojo of his step-mom bc of their social status and her boss-secretary relationship w his dad, except his step-mom is actually a gold digger who never truly cared abt him as a step-son and wants yuuta to take over (but yuuta doesn’t support his mom so he tries to make it known to satoru that he isn’t after the inheritance)

as for your other input, many anons have previously said the same thing so i’ll leave that up to u guys to think abt without spoiling what’ll happen :’) thank u for sharing ur thoughts bae!! this was very detailed and thorough <33 fun to read

#saintobio.asks #series: sincerely not

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machinegunbun · 3 years

Text

this is based on a true story and i feel stupid typing out this novel

I slept with someone miles from home whenever I was 21 who looked suspiciously like Colson some details have been edited in order to protect identities/obscure timelines

Also shitty and boring it’s a rough draft forgive my URL also thought I could changw it when I made it omg

I’m gonna send this in pieces bc it just disappeared (I can’t take the hint omg)

~££~

The sound of pans clanging against a cold, concrete floor snap you back to your senses and also prompt you to press a Bluetooth earbud further into your brain, to drown it all out and get back to the flow. As the beat pounds on and on into your canal, aggressive lyrics soothing your movements into a ballet-esque orchestra repeating the task in front of you, you begin wrapping prepped food like a machine once again. Although burns, cuts, and bruises sting across your body (some of your trade, some for fun, and some from flat out vices) you pay no mind, as it is keeping you heavily grounded; Just as well, the crisp, wet, refreshing air (just faintly tinged with cigarette smoke,) of the emergency exit door wide open billow against your back, providing necessary healing and much needed relief from the aching muscles underneath your ratty shirt.

In the middle of your last piece of the steam table puzzle, you realize someone must be smoking this cigarette you smell? And it had been quite some time since your last, so it made you suddenly grit your teeth at the craving. Quickly checking the clock, you realize it is midnight, and you’re likely the last 2 in the store, so you need to hurry it up and finish cash drop. After all, it would be a long walk home in Cleveland, Ohio sleet.

You are jarred from your thoughts with a frigid, slender finger hooking your headphones around them and out of your ears. As you realize what Chipotle veteran is still left standing alongside you, you quickly pause the music and wipe your hands on a nearby towel before turning to face him.

“My bad I’m not done yet, if I’m holding you up Colson. I only have to stick this in the walk in, and count registers.”

A chuckle escaped the blonde don. He threw his hands up, so that you had to look up to see the tall, mysterious creature, as if to surrender. “I’m not a boss man, take your time. I just wanted to see if you needed a square. It’s been since lunch rush you had a break.” He stops to look at you sternly, although in fascination. “And you were here before me.”

“That’s okay,” you reassure, stacking bowls in your arms neatly, “I have to go by the gas station after this to get some.”

Colson begins snatching things from you to pace alongside you towards the cooler. “Let me help you. Take a break, I’ll GIVE you a cig, dude.”

You cringe at dude, because that is how everyone saw you no matter how many days you came in with make up and a clean apron. Nevertheless, you were grateful, and you told him as much.

You had become comfortable in the job itself the past 18 months, and you knew every employee from sheer silent and thoughtful observation, but you were sure this was the most you had talked to Colson (or the other, less attractive crew either, for that matter) and weren’t quite as content with small talk or favors. You noted sometime last week he must be having a hard time when you had to step on the line for him after an altercation with a customer, which he walked out over. First time in a year and a half, so you knew it must be serious.

Once the task was completed, Colson abruptly grabs you by the arm and forces a menthol into it.

“Let’s do that first and then we’ll blow this joint.” Ever the jokester, as he says this, he winks and pulls a joint from behind his ear.

“You got tricks,” I laugh

We walk out the back and Colson hops up onto a stack of Buffalo Rock crates to light the J. You walk a safe distance from him to light your much appreciated cigarette.

“So you don’t talk much,” Colson hisses, taking a big inhale, before continuing as he keeps the joint from running, “but I know you smoke, cause your backpack always REEKS, dude.” He cracks a smile, eyes low and beautiful eyelashes glistening in the flurries swirling around you.

You nod in acknowledgement, no sense denying that. “It’s for my glaucoma,” you joke dryly.

Colson snorts and chokes before leaning out with the bud to pass it.

“So how you be doing that shit all day? Lifting dishpans bigger than you and shit, doubles 6 days a week?” Colson inquires, and if it weren’t wishful thinking you would say he was checking you out. Hopefully not just to see if you’re a robot.

You smile meekly. “Well, you do it, too,” you remind.

“Yeah but I’m not a girl. I’m… Well, look at me,” he boasts playfully from atop his King of the Hill stack, arms spread out to show off, as the makeshift throne wobbles slightly below. “I’m six-foot-foe,” he smirks, holding fingers up as he annunciates.

You have to laugh at his gloating. “Well, as long as I want to eat, I’ll be here,” you dismiss as gently as you can. try as you might, This brings up the uncomfortable memory of your first month here, when Colson silently pushed a plate of steak towards you on your break after watching you struggling to stay vertical.

Colson knits a brow as brushes your fingertips softly to take the blunt back. “Another question, do you really be walking home, alone, in this shit every night?” He motions to the snow beginning to swirl.

“Yeah, I do what I have to. It was rough at first, now it’s like meditation. Only, like, 15 minutes,” you dismiss. You know you could have a car by now if you could give up the pills, and you feel the shame, all too familiar, welling up like a tight ball in your stomach.

“Well I can tell you you ain’t doing that shit tonight,” he affirms seriously, “cause I got a whip now!” His tone of concern Cascades easily info one of excitement.

You’re blushing now, whyyy? You’d been able to avoid everyone up to this point, sans your dealer. “You really don’t have to do that,” you say, though the wind off your face did sound more and more intoxicating as it whipped around the two of you.

“I INSIST,” he barks, putting the roach out between two fingers.

You make quick work of counting the registers while Colson stared on, expression unreadable. You grow more self conscious with each single you lay down , but try to ignore it.

“Damn, you a pro at this,” he snorts, sticking the same stack of hundreds through the bill counter over and over. “You one with the bands or something. Almost faster than this thing,’ he motions to the machine on the desk.

"And that’s a wrap,” you conclude, stacking drawers inside the safe with a quickness. “I’m just gonna change and we can leave.”

Cautiously and curiously, Colson stands in the doorway, waiting.

“Oh, my bad, you might wanna do that in private,” he smirks, stepping to the side.

Quickly you pull the door closed to the tiny office and pretend you aren’t trying to see if Colson is looking thru the small glass window, while you quickly strip to a crop top, sweatpants and a light jacket. Once finished, you attempt to gather your composure, and exit to find him scrambling to gather his as well.

You head in silence to his car, a used ‘96 Toyota. Once inside, Colson shakes and rubs his hands together, flicking a heater on immediately. “Sh-it, it is freezing,” he remarks, warming his hands by his mouth, eyes grazing across you, “aren’t you dying in that??” He motions to your flannel.

“Business as usual,” you say. If only he knew how many pharmaceuticals and trauma went into that demeanor.

“Shid, fuck that,” he resists, and begins digging in his backseat. “Here, this is Slim’s, wear it to make me feel better.”

You slip the jacket over your lap and give a nod of appreciation. You hated feeling like a homeless hopeless.

Colson reaches for the auxiliary cord and stops himself from pulling his phone from his pocket. You try hard not to stare at his briefs peeking over his belt.

“Let’s see what you’re bobbing your head to all day,” he smiles, hand out.

You oblige, only to realize who it was paused on.

“Oh, wait, not that playlis–”

“Dawg, is this my shit??” Colson almost screams, although curiously he doesn’t seem creeped out, he’s… Excited?

“Uh…” You bite your lip. “You… Did promote it constantly. Well, still do,” you stammer.

“No, no. Do NOT be embarrassed, this is fuckin sick! Incredible,” he whispers in disbelief, hooking up the cord, as he pulls a devil’s horn with the other hand. “We have a fan!” He triumphs before putting it in reverse and backing away.

“So, I was thinking…” He trails, fingers drumming almost nervously on the steering wheel, “we could hang at my place for a bit? Our names are next to each other on the schedule, so I know you have TWO whole days off, too,” he reminds, almost shutting down any attempt at refusal.

“I have smoke,” you offer, “but no wraps.”

Colson grins big. “Perfect, I got both at the house.”

***

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rahleeyah · 3 years

Note

You’ve mentioned before about how Nick and the squad can’t properly appreciate what Noah is to Olivia. Noah’s her baby and they love him because of that and understand that maternal love—but they’re missing the complete picture of what motherhood means to Olivia. I do agree that Elliot is like the only who really knows??? And that’s part of the reason why I absolutely love that scene in like the first episode of OC where he’s left watching them run away in the snow. It feels like that reverence and just a little bit mournful too because he’s coming in years too late and he probably always thought he’d be around for it if (when) she became a mother.

Sometimes I like to consider what it would have been like if Elliot had been there when they introduced Noah because it would have added so much depth. He’s the only one that knows all of her missed chances and opportunities before and I feel like that would have added another layer of hesitancy over everything Liv was already experiencing. Like El would have to watch her fall in love with this baby again and he would be so worried at first because how many times is he going to have to hold her back as another child is taken from her???? I feel like he would be so reluctant at first and then, once Noah’s placement is more secure (but especially after the adoption is finalized), there would be some transition or something??? Where Elliot goes from worrying about her losing another one to—okay she’s not going to lose this one, and going fucking feral anytime a situation threatens that security. Cause he gets it and he would just finally have permission to help her and fight for her chance at motherhood. (I also 100% think that would have had feral Elliot in 1.0, if Liv had given a different answer in the “It’s your call scene.” Like I think the only reason he held her back while Calvin was being taken is because she said no the first time. She wasn’t ready to break the law or step outside of those boundaries and so he supported her while she faced the repercussions of her own morality….I don’t know lol. I just love to think about EO and their dynamics with children and parenthood!!!)

one thing i do wanna say off the top of my head, is that i do think elliot telling liv "it's your call" was him saying "if you do this i got your back", but i think it was also "we both know you can't do this." calvin's mother is strung out on pills and offering to give olivia her child if olivia will only let her get away with murder. she is offering olivia everything she wants, but the trade-off is that liv must sacrifice the values she's built her life around. she cannot do this. elliot knows this. elliot knows that even if vivian keeps her promise initially there is no guarantee that she won't renege, that she won't come back a year or two or three down the track when olivia and calvin are even more deeply bonded and destroy olivia's life - and her career, and probably land her in jail. elliot knows, has known, from the very first, that no matter how badly she wants it this child is not olivia's and she cannot keep him and he has been waiting for the other shot. he tells her it's your call, but his voice is heavy, and sad, bc if she does this she will be trading away a piece of herself, and they both know she can't. and she doesn't. in part, i think, bc he reminded her, in that moment, that it was a choice, and that it would have consequences. and then when they are taking calvin away, he is holding liv back, yes bc she has made her choice, and bc there is literally nothing they can do, at that point. what, is she gonna assault an ACS officer and vivian in the middle of the precinct and run out with a child? where is she gonna go? there is no other way for that to play out but that calvin be taken from her, and elliot holding olivia back is his way of protecting her from making things worse. she has to let him go; if she doesn't, she will only hurt herself.

whew sorry i just watched that episode a few days ago and i was gonna make a whole post about that but then this ask came along so i'm putting it here instead.

but then if he's around when she gets noah? she did things right, that time. this is a child she can keep. until johnny d gets involved and you know elliot would be going feral trying to stop that man getting his hands on liv's boy. you are so right; he would be so, so protective of her. calvin had a mother, and a father, and grandparents, and he was never liv's. noah doesn't have anybody, and he just. he's meant for her. and she has wanted this for so long.

god.

just.

if elliot is the one who gets that phone call? liv, breathless, telling him she's just been handed a baby? elliot helping liv get noah settled at home. elliot coming by to check on them during the however many days off liv took 'cause she just got a fucking baby. elliot holding noah while liv goes to take a shower, liv coming out and finding her son asleep on elliot's chest

anon i'm gonna start chewing on the furniture it is. too much.

#anonymous

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chrishoughton · 4 years

Note

How do you deal with depression?

First off, I’m assuming you’re asking bc you’re dealing with depression. If that’s the case, I’m sorry you’re struggling. Depression is horrible because it robs you of desire. And if you have no desire to keep going in life, you can quickly end up in a dangerous situation.

Depression’s different for everyone but I needed to get serious about my mental health about 2 years ago after I had hit a new personal low. I’ve dealt with anxiety, obsessive thinking, and depression since I was a kid so I thought I knew what was going on, but I didn’t. Depression is serious stuff so good on you for reaching out. Of course, I am no mental health expert so take what I say with a grain of salt.

Here are some of the first steps I took when I was at my lowest:

•Learn about depression. For me, learning about what was going on in my head helped me feel less crazy, less alone, AND gave me an education in what actions I can take in order to feel better. Here is a great resource: https://www.youtube.com/user/healingdepression and I also HIGHLY recommend the book, “The Upward Spiral.” The book is a crash course into learning about the very first small steps you can do to start a positive spiral upwards. Most of us knows what a downward spiral looks like. With a little effort, can’t the spiral work in reverse? The book is great, even if you only read half of it like I think I did. Also, it talks a lot about the importance of deep breathing and your nervous system.

•Walk. Seriously, go for a walk. Today. Even if it’s only 15 minutes a day. It’s so important for your brain. You might not feel the effects right away but do it for a few days in a row and I PROMISE it will make you feel better and calm your mind a bit. Once you get the hang of it, increase your physical activity. It can be anything! Just MOVE. Your body needs to physically process all that cortisol and bad mojo. Also, you’ll spend time outside (hopefully getting a little sun?) looking at trees, people walking dogs, birds chirping, squirrels running around fighting over nuts, etc. It’s good stuff.

•Journal. Not like the instagram models who bullet journal and all that. Just grab a cheap notebook and write down how you’re feeling. That’s all. How do you FEEL? Numb? Write about how numbness feels. Angry? Hopeless? Exhausted? Write it down. You need to get those thoughts OUT of your head and journaling is one of the easiest, fastest, and cheapest ways to do that.

•Find a good therapist so that you can learn about YOUR depression. This is easier said than done but somehow I worked up the strength to make ONE appointment with 2 different therapists. I told them how I felt and I listened to what they said. One guy gave me weird vibes so he was out. The other woman was thoughtful and smart and two years later, we still speak every week for an hour. Therapy has felt like a college course in my personal psychology. I’m learning more about how my brain works. My thought patterns, what sets me off, etc. One of my doctor’s told me in our first visit, “Most people know what kind of car they drive, but they have no idea what kind of brain they have!”

•Meds. I’m on meds (and have been for decades) but I don’t really want to comment on them too much since it’s such a hot topic. I don’t think they’re anything to be ashamed of, but I also don’t think they’re something to be promoted because it’s so individual. My dose was increased when I was at my lowest and it helped but it’s never been a cure-all. However, I do think for some people in some situations, meds can be a lifesaver. It’s complicated. Do your research and meet with a psychiatrist (not a GP) and meet with them at least 2-3 times before they write you a prescription. Find someone you trust that listens to you and isn’t too quick to throw a bunch of pills at you.

For me, the things above were the most helpful tips I can give to anyone who doesn’t know where to start treating their depression.

Here’s a bunch of other things that have helped me. However, don’t try to introduce a bunch of stuff into your life all at once. You probably won’t even have the energy and it’s just too overwhelming. Start small. But in case you’re wondering, here are some helpful things that I’ve slowly introduced to my life:

•Avoiding alcohol and/or added sugars makes me feel better. I don’t cut it out of my life but my awareness can increased. And awareness of this stuff is crucial! ( “Oh, when I do ____, I feel worse! I will now try to avoid that thing, especially when I’m already feeling bad.”)

•Got a dog! Our pets are a HUGE stress reducer and mood elevator. It’s scientifically proven that caring for something other than yourself gets you out of your head and makes you feel better. Even a plant can help.

•Coffee helps lift my mood in the morning (it’s a stimulant after all) but it can increase anxiety/racing thoughts so I stick to one cup in the morning and that’s it.

•Cannabis is something that I never used to use but it’s been very helpful (way better than benzos!!) It’s another controversial and complicated subject but I want to be honest.

•Meditation. I often can’t just sit and wait for my mind to quiet down. It’s hard and I get distracted. But certain kundalini and hindu meditation practices have been incredibly helpful. They’re active and effective. I’ve been taking classes on zoom throughout quarantine and it’s been really mind-blowing. Lots of breathing exercises and intense practices.

•Gardening. During quarantine, I’ve fallen into gardening HARD and love it. Haven’t done it since I was a kid (never had a yard as an adult until now!). It’s meditative, I sweat out in the sun, and I like digging around in the dirt like a dog. Gets me out of the house and getting out of the house when you’re depressed is super important.

•Yoga. It’s true. All that hippie dippy stuff really works! Yoga helps “reconnect” your body and mind. It’s physical exercise but it’s gentle and calming. Mainly, I find it fun and that’s really important. Find something physical that’s FUN. You don’t have to go for long runs or whatever. I hate running but I LOVE getting on my bike.

•Don’t read the news. If a bomb is gonna drop on your head, your neighbor will tell you. In a depressed state, you don’t need other people’s problems. You’ve got plenty of your own. The news is there to freak you out and you don’t need it. Avoid social media if you can as well. Too many loud people shouting! The social media companies and news organizations want you to stay glued to their platforms freaking out and believing that we’re all doomed. Don’t fall for it!

My diet could be better and my sleep is still not great. But I’m doing much better these days and you can too. Depression is a liar so don’t believe its lies. You can and will feel better. It’s going to take some effort but take it one step at a time and then pat yourself on the back for each step you take! No step is too small. Hell, pat yourself on the back if you read all of my ramblings! It’s all about moving towards a better place. Best of luck. You can do it.

#anon-answer

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jaeminlore · 5 years

Text

The World is Ending and I'm With You

SPINOFF | PLAYLIST (pls listen while you read)

summary: and i won't sleep through this. i survive on the breath you are finished with. words: 6.1k+ category: angst, fluff, suggestive, mark won't stop talking about how he used to be a cub scout warning(s): death, religion mention, death mention, implied sex ohoho i'm getting bold, littering (not from mark bc he's a good boy), unedited a/n: john mayer song that's kind of an easter egg, and a poem at the end by someone called s.b.,,, also you don't have to read the spinoff to read this one :) but it does take place in the same universe/timeline.

You never were one for smoking. Your mother always told you it would increase risk of cancer, and in turn, death. But now the world is ending, and your mom hasn't been home in a few days. So, you smoke.

The convenience store you work at doesn't have many packs left. Your manager has some stupid rule about rationing stock now that delivery truck drivers are quitting at a rapid rate. They don't want to be stuck on the freeway when the meteor hits. Which makes sense to you, but it's all your bitter manager seems to complain about.

You take a pack out from behind the clear screen and extract a stick. You're in the middle of lighting it with a lighter that most certainly isn't yours when a wide-eyed boy appears in front of the counter. He dumps a basket full of snacks onto the register, followed by a plethora of hygienic products.

"You worried we'll run out?" You try to joke. Really, this is a small town, and your store is the biggest one in town (which isn't saying much at all.) It's completely possible.

The boy shrugs. "I'm gonna hit the road before everything goes down. I don't want to be here if a riot starts. Also, I want to find my soulmate."

"Don't we all?" You say, blowing smoke out of your mouth.

The boy coughs and gives you a short glare. "Something to look forward to, at least."

You throw the still-lit cigarette across the store. Part of you hopes it will catch on something and burn the store to the ground. But it goes out on the cold linoleum floor. You look at the boy again. "I'll give you all of this for free if you let me come with you."

(Mark isn't sure why he chooses a road trip in the first place. It's not like his beat up old van can outrun the end of the world. Maybe deep down, he hopes it can.

He also isn't sure why he's let you tag along, save for the fact that he really needs to stock up on food, just in case. And he's also lonely. Maybe talking to someone will calm his restless soul.)

Mark has a giant van. There's a mattress in the back, complete with a blanket and pillow. He tosses his groceries in the back and clumsily shoves the key in the ignition. "Are you sure about this? I'm going across the country."

You light another cigarette. Five packs stolen from your store sit in his glove compartment. "We have what? A week left? I have nowhere better to be."

He takes this answer and begins to drive. The radio is staticky, but you can make out the preacher's message of salvation in the last days. You wonder if it gives the boy comfort. It gives you anxiety, so you take a long drag and focus on the weird way the cigarette smoke warms your mouth. "I'm Y/n, by the way."

"I'm Mark." He turns down the radio. "I'm pretty sure my soulmate is in California, based on my tattoo."

"Okay," you say, because you really don't care. You haven't believed in soulmates since your parents got divorced. You throw the cigarette out of the window and try not to think about the way your moon tattoo burns against your collarbones. "Does your tattoo say California or something?"

"No, it's just a sun."

You want to call him dumb. Or stupid. Or an idiot. "California isn't the only place on earth with a sun, you know. And apart from that, it's a huge state. How are you gonna find your soulmate in a week?"

Mark takes an anxious sip of his gas station slushee. "I know it's stupid, okay? But I feel drawn there, so it's my only shot."

You lower the sun visor and grab the pair of aviators that are hooked onto it. "Well I feel drawn to the sea, so let's go to the beach first."

(Mark wants to tell you that he knows he won't find his soulmate. His soulmate is probably dead with the rest of the world that got caught in the atmosphere change. His soulmate is probably farther than California, but for some reason the state is stuck in his mind.

He remembers his aunt's beach house. Solar generators for electricity and water. A familiar place to stay in the end. But for now, he wants to take his chances on the road. He doesn't want to be dormant, and he knows you don't either.)

Mark hits Oregon at three in the morning. He nods off once and veers into the side of the highway before you finally convince him to pull over for the night.

He parks at a truck stop and the two of you take showers, using what products you and Mark bought (stole). You use more than you need. Shampoo gets in your eyes.

Your eyes are still burning when you meet up with Mark at the van. He's already asleep, an open bag of chips beside him. He must've been too tired to even eat.

The back of the van is covered in those battery-powered clip-on fans from the mall kiosks. Mark told you earlier that he had bought them on sale. You had asked earlier why he hadn't just stolen them.

He told you he believes in heaven, and doesn't want to hurt his chances of getting there. You told him you don't think good works matter anymore.

You eat the chips and fall asleep beside him, ignoring him as he mumbles random phrases in his sleep.

(Mark lays down on the mattress. The van is hot, even with the windows cracked, even with the cheap fans, so Mark feels his skin beginning to get sticky with sweat. He doesn't want to eat. He doesn't want to sleep. He doesn't want to breathe in this foggy air and think about the inevitable.

He wishes you would just come out of the shower and join him. He waits for what seems like ages, until he's too worn out to keep his eyes open. He falls into a restless sleep, not noticing the way the mattress dips when you join him.)

"My dad was a mafia boss," you say, spitting a sunflower seed shell onto the dashboard. The Clash is playing from Mark's radio, and the station wavers in and out as you drive across state lines.

"Really?" You've found that Mark's eyes grow obnoxiously big when he's surprised about something. His mouth forms a little 'o' shape and his voice grows softer. It's adorable, so you make it your mission to surprise him as much as you can. That, and road trips are pretty boring when the world is ending.

"No."

"Come on!" Mark pouts. You can see it in your peripheral vision. "Stop lying to me. I bet your dad doesn't even have a cool job."

"Guess then," you taunt. "By the way, we passed the California-Oregon state line like, five minutes ago."

Mark gasps and rolls down the window, looking back towards the passing highway, as if the sign is going to still be there. "I can't believe I missed it! This could be it. This is where we find our soulmates."

You spit out another shell. "I'm hoping my soulmate's name is Long Beach because that's where I'm going."

"Let's stay together," Mark says. He's biting his thumbnail, eyes towards the empty road in front of him. "I don't know how many more of us will be left."

You want to correct him and say that there are plenty of people left, and yet you know that a lot of people took the pill. Or got sick. Or killed in a raid. Funny, a meteor is scheduled to hit the earth and people decide to leave early. Or they lose their humanity entirely, and take people out with them. Truthfully, there aren't many people left at all.

"Okay," you say. Your eyes stay on his face a little longer than necessary. You take note of his wide, innocent eyes and wonder if he even understands what's happening. Or maybe he just looks like that. But really, all it does is make you want to protect him from the inevitable.

Maybe there's a secret spaceship you can hide him in, and he can start a new, albeit solitary, life on the moon.

You'd never make it to Area 51 in time. That's where they keep the spaceships, right?

(Mark doesn't know how to tell you that he doesn't even care about this stupid soulmate thing. He just doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want to say that, because it means he has to vocally admit that he is alone. Truly. Not by choice.

He was out of town when his family got the flu. The atmosphere got too much. Whatever sickness killed and left as soon as it came, took them too. And he had to go. He had to get out, as far away from the east coast as he could. So he decided on the west coast. And then he decided on you.)

"Let's get our tan on!" You joke. The clouds are heavy and dark above the water. It looks like the sky and the water are becoming one, however slowly or quickly. You grab Mark's elbow and pull him towards the sea.

The waves roar against the silence of the land. There's a family down the ways, barely noticeable under the pier. You watch a seagull fly down towards the family and steal something. The little girl shrieks, but you don't know if it's in excitement or fear.

The beach is distractedly empty. No people — save those already mentioned — are anywhere to be seen. There's debris everywhere: old umbrellas, coolers, and towels are half-buried in the sand.

The tide is coming in higher (something the news channel probably warned about) and for some reason, it makes the world feel incredibly small.

Mark has already got his legs in the water. It's lapping at his clothed jeans, but he doesn't seem to mind. His back is turned to you. He's facing the horizon, still and silent.

You hate to ruin this for him, but as the mood grows more dismal, you want to lighten it.

You sneak up behind Mark and jump on his back. Your weight catches him off guard, and the two of you plummet into the cloudy water. Mark yelps when the water hits his torso. You fall in after him and grip his shoulders. Closing your eyes tight, you hold you breath and lift your face above the surface. "Feel refreshed?"

Mark coughs. He rubs his eyes, wincing when the salt reaches beneath his lids. "Why would you do that?"

"It's fun," you say.

Mark begins swimming into the deep water. He looks a bit like a lost child, doggy paddling in the vast sea. He grins, and his lips are a bit lopsided. You notice his cheeks grow hollow when he smiles. "You scared me, Y/n."

The sentence ends timidly, like he isn't sure if he's allowed to say your name out loud. But you like it. It's hesitant and soft; loud because it's the only word spoken for miles; quiet because it's Mark. You wonder briefly how to get him to say your name again.

The two of you swim until you can't touch the sandy floor below you anymore. Mark holds his own, but you struggle a bit. "They were right about the tide getting stronger."

"Here," Mark swims over to you and wraps his arm around your waist. "Stay close to me."

Something akin to reticence settles against the wall of your skull like the numb reminder that this is all very weird. Mark is a stranger, and you're cross-country with only him. It bothers you that your mind is already growing attached; your heart already growing attracted. This is the last thing you need to happen during your last days on this literal godforsaken earth.

You swim back to the shore first and lie on the sand. It clings to your wet skin. The tide laps at your feet. The sun is going down, and the air feels overwhelmingly muggy. You close your eyes.

(Mark thinks about the waves. He thinks about the frequency of your voice when he splashes you. He thinks of how your smile seems even prettier at this time of day. He thinks about the way you pulled back when he asked you to stay. While he knows this isn't exactly the time to fall for someone, he can't help but feel like he's starting to.

He watches you fall asleep in the sand. Your cheeks are red. Your eyelashes flutter against the tops of your cheeks. Your lips are chapped. Mark finds that he wouldn't mind kissing you. Or just simply being by your side.

For a few solitary moments, he doesn't even think about the end. Just the now.)

It feels like you blinked, but when you reopen your eyes you find that time has certainly gone by. Mark is sitting a ways away, stoking a makeshift fire.

"I was a Cub Scout," he says.

"I need a smoke." You go back to the van and pull out a pack and a lighter. Your brain feels fuzzy from having fallen asleep on the beach, and your back itches from the sand that has scratched its way down your shirt. To distract yourself, you lean against the van and take a drag; look up towards the sky.

It's a dark reddish black, some ominous code that the world is definitely coming to an end. Clouds swirl hazily against each other and you can see that a storm seems to be forming over the ocean. Months ago this would've been beautiful. An instagram-worthy shot, a coffee pot topic, and nothing more.

Right now it sends a chill down your spine.

You drop the cigarette and head back to where Mark is sitting. He has some kind of pot out over the fire, and what looks like a can of soup inside. The can itself is tucked neatly in the little box Mark has beside him. You wonder why he cares so much about a planet that's already dead. "Thanks. For, uh dinner."

"Yeah," Mark clears his throat and shifts in the sand. "That's what friends are for."

"We're friends now?" You raise your brow at Mark while he hands you a bowl of soup along with a spoon.

"I sure hope so," Mark quips. "I don't make soup for just anybody."

You laugh at that. Your heart stirs in excitement. Your stomach growls, so you ignore the heaviness in your chest and take a bite of your soup.

That night you fall asleep with a belly full of food and sand down your shorts. It's half-ideal, half-hell, but Mark gives you a hug before the two of you tuck in, so it's okay.

(Mark wants to say that he wishes the two of you were friends a lot sooner, but that would be weird. He's only known you for like, three days. Maybe he's delirious.

But he gives you a hug before you fall asleep anyway. He hopes you can't hear how fast his heart is beating. It's stupid anyway, he thinks.)

Four days left. Give or take. You aren't completely sure to be honest, and that brings on an entire onslaught of horror that you've never really felt before. There's something so terrifying about this whole thing. It's like you've knocked on Death's door, and you have no idea when he's actually going to open it.

Mark hides it well. He drives the two of you down to Hollywood Boulevard.

It's trashed. What was once the walk of fame is now defaced with graffiti, food, trash, and what looks like human feces. You throw up in the fake bushes and Mark pats your back while you do.

"Guess I won't get my picture with Kermit the Frog then," you joke.

Mark's eyes suddenly widen. He grabs his backpack straps. "There's a Kermit the Frog star?"

"Yeah," you laugh at Mark's expression. "My aunt was obsessed with The Muppets. She had a laminated picture of the star in her sewing room."

Mark bites his lip and averts his eyes. "I have a Polaroid. Not much film, but we might could get a few pictures."

The stars have to be cleared first. Mark comes up with the idea to sneak into one of the restaurants nearby and using their cleaning supplies. And since you have all day and nothing to lose, you agree.

The thing about a large and empty place like Hollywood Boulevard, is that every shadow feels like a threat. Memories of dystopian movies come flooding through your memories when Mark hands you a giant broom. You wonder if some evil man with a god complex is going to come and kidnap you both.

But the only people the two of you ever see is a man in a small shop that looks like it contains weed.

You and Mark sweep away as much debris as you can, while avoiding anything that came out of a human body. The graffiti covers a lot of the stars, but after a few hours of walking and sweeping, the two of you find it.

"Kermit," Mark breathes a side of relief before laughing out loud. His laugh is stark against the silence.

You join him anyway. "I can't believe we found Kermit! My aunt would be so jealous right now."

"Your aunt sounds weird," Mark says, no real bite to his remark.

"She is," you confirm. "She's up in Maine somewhere. At least, you know, last I heard."

Mark senses the change in tone and drops his backpack to the ground. He pulls out a baby pink Polaroid camera. He points it at you. "Say cheese, Y/n."

There's your name on his tongue again. That sound itself has you beaming as you lean against the brooms long handle and cock your head to the side. The camera clicks.

Mark takes out the picture and shakes it before he looks at it. "Cute," he says casually, then he tucks it in his shirt pocket.

"I want to see it," you say. You hope that if you don't acknowledge the warmth in your cheeks, Mark won't either.

"Too bad." He sticks his tongue out at you. And before you can retort, he squats down beside the star. "Okay, let's get a picture of this bad boy."

You squat down too. You match Mark's peace sign and smile in the direction of the lens. The camera clicks.

Nothing comes out. "Shit," Mark mumbles to himself. "I guess I had a lot less film than I thought."

You're about to apologize, feeling like maybe you should've put up a bigger fight when he offered to take your picture.

Mark seems to read your mind. That, or he's just too nice for his own good. He pats his shirt pocket and gives you a generous smile. "Worth it, though."

The sky is getting progressively darker as the two of you walk around, occasionally pointing at places you would've liked to go, had the circumstances been different.

You both eat from snacks you find in a convenience store. You take the rest and leave it in the truck. "What should we do now?" Mark asks.

The light from the store across the street flickers. You look at the neon leaf and then back to Mark. "Have you ever gotten high?"

(Mark has gotten high before, and he tells you so. What he doesn't tell you is that the picture in his pocket is getting heavier as the seconds pass. What he doesn't tell you is that this picture may be the only evidence left of you in a few days. Maybe it will disappear with the rest of them. Mark briefly wonders if a fireproof box would work against the end of the world, and whatever that entails.

He wants to tell you that he would immortalize you in a million different pictures if he could. He would show the dying world a million different ways to breathe again.

Instead, he only nods his head. "Yeah, but it's always fun to do again.")

You're positive it's the fact that you've taken one too many hits of whatever joint that weed guy rolled up for you. 'Said it was his best; he was saving it for something special. Since the world is going to hell, he shared it with you.

And now you're in the bed of Mark's van, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the way Mark's lips wrap around the joint. He has a really pretty mouth, you realize, and you want to say it out loud but something heavier takes hold of your chest and you bury it down with all of your other fears and revelations.

Mark coughs. Puffs of smoke blow out into the hot van, and he winces at the smell. "Didn't the guy say this was the special stuff? Why does it still stink?"

You take the joint from him and package it up, hoping to save it for another day (or maybe you just don't want to get so high that you can't focus on Mark's face.)

Mark scrunches his nose and leans back against the cool window of the van. "We should sleep outside tonight. It's too hot in here."

"Under the stars?" you ask. You feel your heartbeat pick up, but it falls just as quickly, and you settle back into the blankets. "Don't wanna move."

"I'll move you," Mark says, a mere whisper against your right side.

You watch him open the trunk. He hops out. "Come on, Y/n. Take my hand."

His hand is warm and calloused and rough and you want to ask him if he can actually play that guitar in the back of his van or if it's just for show. Mark lets you sit on the concrete of the pier. It's warm beneath your skin. Mark parked the van right against the pier, so the two of you could sleep right next to the edge.

While you hang your legs off of the edge, Mark drags the mattress out and pushes it right up to the railing. "Didn't peg you for a stoner."

You grab the blanket he throws at you and lie down on the mattress. "I'm not," you say, no bark to your words. "You're just better at it than me."

"At smoking?" Mark laughs. "I only took one hit. You took, like, four."

"So?" You pout and refuse to return his stare. Instead you try to focus on the stars, and the way their alignments seem off. You wonder if it's the end of the world, or if it's just the weed. "I wish we had more time."

The candor in your voice causes Mark to finally settle down. He lays down. His shoulder brushes against yours, and when his fingers twitch, his knuckles touch yours. It stirs up a gentle longing in your heart. What might be. What never was. You turn to face Mark. "We haven't found your soulmate, yet."

Mark lets out a shaky breath. Something between a gasp and a sigh. He blinks, looks at you like he's indulging, and blinks again. "I don't know if I want to."

(He knows he doesn't want to. Hasn't for a long time now. But your innocent worry has him thinking. Has him wondering how much a soulmate is worth in the end.

He thinks of how you let your guard down when you're high. He thinks of the jolt of electricity that zips down his arm when your fingers touch his. He thinks of your face, so close to his and yet he's so, so afraid of leaning in. Or letting go. Or scaring you away.

Mark doesn't have to find his soulmate. There's no time, and no lead. He thinks that he'd be disappointed anyway.

At the end of all things, he thinks he'd just rather be with you.)

"Where'd you even learn how to siphon gas?" you cough. The air is growing thinner. An estimate of three or four days left, and the air is beginning to fall against the atmosphere like a weighted blanket. Ash and dust rise from the ground, and you keep a bandanna around your nose most of the time.

Mark spits gasoline out of his mouth and shoves the nozzle into his van. "Cub Scouts, remember?"

"Who knew Cub Scouts would prepare you for the end of the world." You kick the van's back tire.

Mark lifts his own red bandanna around his mouth. His jeans are scuffed up from the dirt and grime of the gas station, but the fact that he keeps his shirt tucked in and fastened with a belt is more endearing than it needs to be.

"Too bad I never earned my saving-the-world badge, right?" Mark chuckles. A sad silence follows.

You slip into the passenger seat beside Mark and place your hand over his as soon as it's placed on the gear shift. "What did you want to be? Before the news?"

Mark opens his mouth. Then closes it, laughs to himself and shakes his head. "It's stupid."

"It can't be stupid," you say. "Nothing you like is stupid."

Mark's neck flushes red. "I, uh, want to be a rapper."

"Still?" you whisper.

"Is that pathetic? To pretend the world isn't ending?" Mark lets himself glance at you for a solemn moment.

"I don't think so," you say. "If I've learned anything from you at all, Mark Lee, it's that you're full of hope. That's not pathetic at all."

Mark flips his hand over so that your fingers intertwine with his. "Thanks. You, uh... You've taught me a lot of things too."

"Like what?" You lift your feet onto the dash and squeeze Mark's hand.

"I don't want to say right now."

"Okay." You pull his hand into your lap and run your fingertips over his calloused palms. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you this, but do you play guitar?"

"Yeah," Mark turns down a neighborhood of beach houses. "Remind me to play for you sometime."

(Mark likes the way you touch him first. He likes that you let him hold your hand. He likes that you pull his hand into your lap. He feels so much peace that for a brief moment, he thinks that if the world were to end right now, off-schedule, he'd be okay with it. He doesn't know how to tell you that you're teaching him to be okay with the end. He doesn't know how to tell you that he finds forever in these small moments with you.)

Mark takes you to his aunt's empty beach house and the two of you move your stuff in. He finds the solar generator, and the two of you take showers for what seems like the first time in awhile. You don't feel like wearing anything, welcoming the generated AC. But, out of respect for Mark, you adorn undergarments and a large t-shirt stolen from his "clean" suitcase. (He has a "clean" suitcase and a "dirty" suitcase, which is another thing you really admire about Mark.)

When you come out of the shower, towel around your neck, Mark is sitting on the corner of the bed. His own towel has been thrown over the window-side wicker chair, covering a starfish pillow.

What startles you is the fact that he isn't wearing a shirt; only a pair of black sweatpants. A pair of glasses you've never seen before are perched atop his nose. They slip down every time he looks towards the neck of his guitar. He strums out a sour chord and scrunches his nose. "Ah," he shakes his head at the instrument. "She needs a good tuning."

You're drying your hands with your towel, eyes hazy and focused on the way Mark's bare shoulders tense every time he strums a particularly bad chord.

Mark Lee is really pretty. His black hair is still damp, and a few droplets fall onto his cheeks. "Here," you rush out, not wanting another distraction in his favor. "Let me dry your hair. You'll get a cold."

Mark sets the guitar aside and you stand between his legs. "What song should I play for you?" He closes one eye and peers up at you with a close-lipped smile.

You hum. Toss the towel over his face so he won't notice how warm your face is getting. You dry his hair off with a few massages. "What's the one that makes you most happy?"

"I dunno," Mark says. "I like Come Back To Bed."

"Then sing that one to me." You toss the towel to the floor. For a moment, you wonder what it would feel like to run your hand through his hair. After all, you did just dry his hair, which is kind of an intimate thing already. But maybe touching it would be crossing the line. Maybe reaching out to tuck that stray hair back behind his ear would reveal too much. Unravel what you've been trying not to show.

But the world is ending, so it's time to have courage. You swallow your fear and reach out. When you run your fingers through his soft hair, Mark sighs in content. "That feels nice."

"Y-Yeah?" you say, because anything else would come out as a squeak.

Mark's eyes are closed. He leans into your touch and when your hand trails down the side of his face, behind his ear, he places a kiss against your inner wrist. "Yeah," he says, breath hot on your skin. "I'm... I'm glad I went into that convenience store a few days ago."

"Me too." You sense the mood drifting, so you sit beside Mark and pat his guitar. "Now play me something."

Mark nods, a big dazed. He picks up his guitar and begins to sing to you, and you think his voice sounds like the hope of a new dawn.

(Mark wants to bottle up the color of your blushing cheeks and paint the sky. He wants to hold you close to him and kiss you breathless. He wants to say so much more than he does.)

Mark makes eggs. You make waffles. They're both a little burnt, but they're made with love, so it's fine. You eat as much as you can, tired of all the convenience store food. "Thank God for your aunt's well-stocked, solar-powered beach house."

Mark giggles. "You know, she was gonna sell it later this year. She wanted to move to the mountains."

"I'm glad she didn't," you say. "This isn't a bad place for... you know."

Mark blinks. Solemnity drowns his face. "She rented a cabin in the mountains. Didn't want to die in the city she was born in. This was the best place I could think of for the end."

"Do you think it will hurt?" You don't want to ask, because it's such a dismal concern. However, you wonder if you're the only one worried about your last moments.

Mark shakes his head. "I think it will be very quick. Like a sneeze."

(Mark wants to say that he's terrified of a slow death. Or dying before you. Of having to watch you die, or leave you alone in this world. He wants to say that he's scared to death and every step feels like a closer one to the grave.

He thinks of telling you, but what difference would it make?)

That night after your shower, you find Mark in the kitchen, washing the dishes. "You don't have to do those, you know."

You wrap your arms around Mark's waist, and as soon as you make contact, he shudders. His body slumps against the sink and he hiccups a sob. "I'm scared, Y/n."

"Mark..." you turn him around as gently as you can and pull him into your embrace. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

"Times almost up," he chokes. "We don't know if it will happen tonight or tomorrow– and I don't want to leave you."

He lifts his head from your shoulder and presses his forehead against yours. It feels a bit like the way a cat might ask for a scratch. But it feels more like Mark wanting to be as close to you as he can. From here, you can see his wide eyes magnified from tears. He sniffs.

You bump your nose against his and shift your hands up to his shoulders. "Mark, I think I love you. I know it's too soon, but we don't really have much time anyways, so I thought I should tell you. I know now isn't a good time, and I'm probably being extremely selfish for saying it while you're crying–"

"You're not," Mark blurts just before he kisses you.

He holds your face in his hands and pulls you against him. His lips are soft and smooth against your chapped ones and you like the way his breathing gets heavier when you reach up and twirl your fingers through his hair. "I love you too."

His hands shift to your waist. He backs you up until you hit the counter's edge. "Jump," he mumbles against your mouth.

You jump onto the counter and wrap your legs around Mark's middle, pulling him flush against you as you go to kiss him again.

He kisses bites your bottom lip and when you gasp at the pain, he leans back to smirk at you. The look on his face makes you want to either slap him or melt into his touch. You choose the latter, leaning back as his lips begin to trail down your jaw. "I don't ever want to let you go."

"Then don't," you say.

(Mark thinks having sex and making love are two different things. He thinks your pink shorts look really pretty against the color of your skin. He thinks of the sounds you make, and the softness of your stomach. He thinks of purple marks on your thighs and the way you say his name like it's worth something. Like it means something. He thinks of looking into your eyes and telling you that he loves you. He thinks of kissing your lips and your neck and your chest and your hips. He thinks of you trembling against him. He thinks of cleaning you up and pulling his hoodie over your tired form. He thinks of kissing your forehead and falling asleep to the sound of your heart.

He thinks of the stain glass picture his aunt has in her kitchen right above the sink. A poem about the sun and the moon. A picture of the two kissing. The words ring like an anthem in his head. He thinks maybe soulmates always find each other in the end.)

It happens in the night. You get up to get a drink of water. Your legs are sore but your heart feels warm.

You take small sips in front of the sink and look out of the window. The clouds are dark and red again, but you're distracted by a little hanging picture suctioned to the pane. It's a stain glass picture, painted gaudy blue and gold. You can see the vivid picture of the sun and the moon, fitting against each other like missing puzzle pieces. There's a poem painted in messy scrawl, but you make out the words easily enough.

Tell me what is more beautiful;

The sky seems to get closer.

How the moon lets the sun shine throughout the day.

The air seems to get warmer.

Or the way the sun lets the moon glimmer at night.

The sky darkens, and you close your eyes. You think of Mark alone in the bed and hope he won't wake. You hope he won't know that he has to go alone. You want to run to him, but you know this is nothing but a second on earth, and you're all out of time.

(Mark wakes up when his skin feels like it's scalding. He sits up and notices that you aren't beside him. You're gone, and he knows it's the end, and he knows he'll never see you again, and the thought claws it's way down his throat and breaks his heart from the inside out. And he's all out of time.)

#mark lee fluff #mark lee scenarios #mark lee angst #nct fluff #nct angst #nct scenarios #destwrites

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1heartfanfics · 4 years

Note

Love your blog! I adore Charlie and Alex from 13RW...how about a fic where Charlie is sick (maybe a fever or a migraine?) and Alex is the one to take care of him?

Also got this request:

can you do pukey&cuddly Charlie and Alex sort of freaking out bc he doesn’t really know how to take care of someone?:)

TW: depictions of vomit

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“Charlie,” Alex jostled his boyfriend’s shoulder, trying to wake him up. “Charlie, wake up,” he said again, a little louder. He shook him lightly again.

Something was wrong. Alex could feel it. Charlie was radiating heat, even more so than normal. His face was flushed and he was sweating and groaning in his sleep.

“Charlie come on, would you just wake up already,” Alex said desperately, grabbing him by both shoulders and shaking him. It always took a lot to wake Charlie up.

“Hmm? Alex?” Charlie mumbled, eyes fluttering as he finally came to. As soon as he was somewhat coherent though, he groaned, curling up on his side against Alex.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Alex asked, his heart pounding.

“I don’t feel very good,” Charlie whined. He had a hand pressed over his eyes and an arm wrapped protectively around his stomach.

“Yeah, I think you’re pretty sick. You’ve got a hell of a fever,” Alex said, nervously reaching down to press his hand to Charlie’s forehead. As he expected, the boy was burning up, hot against Alex’s palm.

“My stomach’s upset Alex,” Charlie whimpered, reaching out for him.

“Yeah okay, sorry, I’ve got you Charlie,” Alex said, sliding down until he was mostly laying down on his back. He let Charlie scoot over to curl up against him, head resting on his chest. Alex wrapped an arm around him, thoughts racing as he tried to figure out what to do.

He had no idea how to help a sick person. Alex could barely take care of himself on a good day, let alone someone else. His head hurt. Maybe he should go get his dad. But Charlie wasn’t even supposed to be here, so he couldn’t do that without his parents knowing he’d slept Charlie into his room to sleep with him last night. Shit.

“Mmm ‘lex m’gonna throw up I think,” Charlie mumbled after a few minutes, drawing Alex from his panicked thoughts.

“Shit, Char,” Alex cursed, sitting up quickly, pulling his boyfriend with him. His eyes darted around the room as he tried to find something for Charlie to throw up in other than his bed sheets.

“Alex...” Charlie warned, voice low. His throat convulsed as he fought back heaves, one hand hovering over his mouth, the other rubbing carefully across his stomach.

Alex jumped up, grabbing the trash bin from under his desk and shoving it in Charlie’s lap as he hopped back up onto the bed. Charlie instantly pitched forwards, unable to hold back any longer. His stomach squeezed and sent a torrent of vomit flying out of his mouth and into the bin. He belched wetly, bringing up another wave before he even had a chance to catch his breath.

“Fuck, okay you’re okay,” Alex muttered beside him, rubbing his back awkwardly. He was not cut out for this. “Just try to breathe,” he said, probably unhelpfully, as Charlie coughed and gagged, heaving up his stomach contents without hardly any reprieve. Breathing probably wasn’t really an option for him at this point. Alex felt like an idiot. A useless idiot.

When Charlie was finally able to take in a breath, he let out a broken sob, collapsing forwards towards the bin full of vomit. Alex quickly wrapped an arm around his chest to catch him, holding him up as he moved the bin to the floor. He let Charlie fall against his chest, crying into his shirt.

“Alex?” a voice called from the hallway. His dad. Shit.

The door swung open before he even had a chance to think about what to do. After the... incident... the lock had been taken off of his door. Alex watched as his Dad’s expression changed from worried to confused to angry, then back to worried again.

“Dad I’m sorry, I know that he’s not supposed to be here, but he’s really sick and I don’t know what to do, I’m scared,” Alex rushed out as Charlie continued to clutch at him, tears wetting Alex’s shirt.

“It’s okay buddy,” his dad nodded, face changing to understanding as he sat at the edge of Alex’s bed. “Hey, Charlie, it’s Mr. Standall. I see you’re not feeling too good huh,” he said, reaching out to place a hand on Charlie’s back.

“I’m s-sorry sir,” Charlie stammered, sniffling.

“It’s alright son, let’s just get you taken care of. Seems like you’ve got quite the fever there,” the deputy said, giving Charlie and Alex both a quick pat on the shoulder before he stood up.

“Will he be okay?” Alex asked, looking up at his dad with scared eyes.

“He’ll be alright. I’m just gonna go get some water for him and something to bring down his fever a little. Don’t worry buddy,” he reassured him before slipping out of Alex’s room into the dark hallway.

“Hear that Charlie? You’re okay. My dad said you’ll be okay. I don’t know how to help you but he does so everything will be okay,” he said, trailing his fingers up and down Charlie’s arm to calm him down hopefully. It was freaking him out to see happy-go-lucky, laid back Charlie so upset and so sick.

“My tummy doesn’t feel good,” Charlie sniffled, bringing a hand to rest on his stomach again.

“A-are you gonna be sick again?” Alex asked shakily. He hoped Charlie could wait until his dad got back for that. He didn’t want to be alone.

“Not nauseous anymore, just an upset belly now,” Charlie said. Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Charlie was always using childish words like that. Tummy. Belly. It usually kind of bothered Alex, but maybe it was a little bit cute.

“I’m sorry your stomach doesn’t feel good Charlie,” Alex said, hesitantly moving one of his own hands to rest on Charlie’s stomach. Charlie sighed, arching his back slightly to push against Alex’s hand.

“Does that help?” Alex asked, rubbing his hand carefully back and forth across Charlie’s stomach. He swore he could almost feel it churning upsetly beneath his hand.

“I’m sorry if I got you in trouble,” Charlie mumbled, eyes slipping shut as he was finally able to relax again.

“It’s okay. My parents are pretty chill I guess. They’ll just tell me not to do it again probably. For now my dad just wants to help you get better, same as I do,” Alex shrugged.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Charlie continued being sappy.

“You don’t have to thank me, you’d do the same thing,” Alex did roll his eyes then. Obviously he was going to take care of him when he got sick while in his bed. “I’m not very good at it though, but I’ll do my best. I’m sorry I’m so bad at this,” he added, feeling bad for freaking out while Charlie was the one being sick.

“Here we go, this should help,” the deputy said as he entered the room, handing Alex a glass of water and two red pills, ibuprofen probably. Alex nodded in thanks, handing them carefully to Charlie, whose hands were shaking. He managed to get down the medicine and a few sips of water, although he could already feel them sloshing in his stomach.

“Should we call your parents or something Charlie?” Alex’s dad asked, scrubbing a hand down his face as he tried to figure out how to handle this situation.

“They won’t answer,” Charlie mumbled. They probably wouldn’t. It’s not that they didn’t care, they just had a lot going on most of the time. And they definitely wouldn’t answer the phone in the middle of the night. They probably hadn’t even noticed Charlie was gone. Not that they would mind if they had.

“Okay, well you’re welcome to stay here until the morning, or I can drive you home,” Mr. Standall sighed. He didn’t understand some of the parents in this community.

“He should stay,” Alex said quickly, “I don’t think putting him in a car is a good idea right now,” he explained. He knew it was only a matter of time before Charlie threw up again, in or out of a moving vehicle.

“Right. Well, you kids just try to get some sleep then. Holler if you need anything, I’m just down the hall,” he nodded.

“Okay, thanks dad,” Alex said. He felt much less afraid now. He could do this. He could be a boyfriend, take care of his boyfriend.

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mistyyygoode · 5 years

Text

flower shop pt.1 (Foxxay)

Prompt from anon: Foxxay fluff/angst Cordelia has agoraphobia after the acid attack. Misty convinces her to get out of the house and they go to a flower shop together. Pre-relationship/mid-foxxay falling in love, I guess.

written with: @rabexxpaulson and there will be 2-3 more parts bc of how long this ended up being. we hope y’all really enjoy this. sorry it’s taken so long to start posting these one-shots. we have this and the next one already done, and will hopefully be posting 2 times a week until we’re caught up to where we currently are!

Misty had noticed that since she had met Cordelia, her aura was dimmer than anyone else's, besides Fiona that was. She could sense that her headmistress was depressed, gloomy, and even anxious about a lot of things. She hadn't seen the woman in a few days, which was worrying her with each day that had passed. She was used to seeing Cordelia in the greenhouse, but when the woman hadn't shown up for a few days, it made her a little sad, she missed her friend.

When Cordelia didn't show up to the greenhouse for the fourth day in a row, Misty knew she needed to take it upon herself to talk to her, and hopefully get her out of the house.

Cordelia didn't feel like seeing people – she couldn't even if she wanted to. After the acid attack, her self-esteem had gotten even worse, and the house she once knew as her well as her own fingertips was now a sea of darkness where she couldn't even find her own inner light. The hours became days and the days became weeks. Cordelia no longer cared to work on her crafts or in the papers she was supposed to, and Fiona didn't help much with all the depreciating comments she always did. The only place she cared to be was her room, one she was beginning to learn every step and every pattern of.

Misty finally took it upon herself to find Cordelia, which wouldn't be hard. She knew the headmistress was most likely in her bedroom, it seemed to be the only place she ever was anymore. Misty knew isolating yourself didn't make your problems any better, so she made her way from the greenhouse to the second floor of the academy. She stood in front of Cordelia's bedroom door, slowly raising her hand to knock on the white wood.

Cordelia couldn't read anymore. She couldn't watch TV or catalog the plants and potions and spells. All she could do was lay down and sleep. Sleep was good, she could dream and be away from reality. She could pretend Fiona wasn't there. She could see Misty with her beautiful blonde curls and shiny blue eyes... that was her favorite part. Turning around on the bed, she sighed loudly. Cordelia was never one to stay in bed much. She felt useless.

Misty's knuckles softly met the wood in a gentle knock. She took in a shaky breath as she knocked on the door four times, just enough to see if Cordelia was awake or not.

One. Two. Three. Four knocks. Who'd knock four times? The usual was three. Cordelia sat up and hazily fixed her messy hair. It could only be Misty. Misty Day was the only person Cordelia was always in the mood to see. "Come on in."

Misty slowly opened the door to the bedroom. She stepped inside and closed it behind herself. Her eyes scanned the room, and she smiled to herself when she saw the headmistress sitting up in bed. "Hey, Miss Cordelia. It's Misty." She said as if the woman wouldn't know.

Cordelia had acquired a habit of covering herself in all situations. She didn't know if her clothes were totally appropriate, or matching or even clean from her tries of cooking and doing simple tasks. She pulled the covers up to her chin and shrunk in them. The sweet voice invaded her ears. Cordelia wanted to extend her hand and beg for a touch, a glimpse of the younger witch she felt herself falling for. However, she kept it to herself. "Hello, Misty. Everything alright?"

Misty bit her lip as she saw how nervous Cordelia seemed, everything from covering herself more than usual, to the awkward wait between entering the room and actually talking to her. "Yes, well, I think—I hope. Are ya okay? I-I mean, I haven't seen ya in a few days, and I was startin' to worry. Ya feelin' alright?" she asked.

Cordelia gulped softly as she looked down to nothing, gripping the covers tighter. She nodded. "Yeah, I'm just... I don't feel very comfortable outside." Her voice had died to a low and weak tone. She hoped Misty could understand what she meant with 'outside'; anywhere she could be seen.

Misty bit her lip again. She hoped and prayed that Cordelia was okay, and now she knew she wasn't. Hesitantly, she walked over to the bed and slowly sat down on the edge of it. "Miss Cordelia... I get ya, I really do, but stayin' in ya room ain't gonna help. Even if ya can't see the flowers and the pants, I think bein' around then, feelin' them would surely help." She said softly as she looked at the older witch. She felt her heart hurt at the sight of how depressed and saddened Cordelia seemed.

Hearing the steps attentively, Cordelia's body subconsciously shrank even more on the bed. She had to remind herself it was just Misty, and Misty would never hurt her. She wished she could at least see her one time. Forcing herself to relax, Cordelia looked to where the so well-known voice was coming. She worried her dry lower lip with her teeth. "I-is... is Fiona here?" It was stupid, she knew, a thirty-eight-year-old woman still somehow afraid of her own mother. In better times, she could handle Fiona; but right now, she felt weak and small and even more invisible than she already felt when she could see the world around her.

Misty's brows furrowed for a moment. She knew Fiona was a bitch. She had heard stories from the other girls about some of the things Fiona had said and done to Cordelia—unbelievable things. "She's not. I haven't seen her for a few days..." she said softly. She scooted closer to Cordelia and softly held out her hand, "Can I hold ya hand?" she asked softly.

The bed moved. Cordelia reminded herself it was Misty, and she actually wanted Misty's touch. Letting out a small relieved breath at the good news, the question cheered her soul a little. Cordelia nodded, offering her pale - paler - hand to Misty, letting it slip from underneath the covers. "I-I just don't know if I can manage b-being... with people." Not seeing the world was even scarier than seeing it, Cordelia had learned. All the sounds and touches and voices and rough, different even if known patterns overwhelmed her in a way. The dosage of her pills had already gone up, but she doubted she could actually be alright if she stepped outside of the room.

Misty frowned, but she nodded softly. "I understand, Miss Cordelia... what if it were just me though? That wouldn't be too bad then, would it?" she asked as her hand slowly and softly caressed Cordelia's that laid on her own.

The touch brought her comfort. Cordelia saw her again, Misty Day; the blue eyes she made sure to think about to keep them alive in her mind, the angelic smile and the fuzzy curls. Instead of sad memories, like the first time they had touched, Cordelia saw Misty smiling and taking care of her and the academy's - her own - plants. Misty was the only one to check on her, to help her and think about her. It was a different kindness. It was a different feeling. It was... pleasingly weird. Her pale fingertips brushed over Misty's. It was the best she had felt in a while. "B-but... would we go out?"

Misty smiled softly as she watched Cordelia's facial features change into something happy. She wondered if she was having another vision, but she didn't ask, not now at least. "That's up to ya, really. If you'd like we can go out, just the two of us. Maybe we could grab somethin' to eat, get some seeds for some new plants. I've been thinkin' 'bout what we could plant next." She said with a bright smile.

Getting some new seeds was an amazing idea. Cordelia wondered if she'd ever see the plants again. She smiled a little, a barely noticeable thing. "I'd like to get some seeds... smell some flowers..."

Misty smiled softly when she saw the smallest smile on Cordelia's lips. She continued to caress the woman's hand. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like to lose your sight, so she figured a small touch would be better than not seeing. "I was thinkin' maybe it'd help ya. Maybe even gettin' ya hands a little dirty from plantin' them would help. I know bein' in the greenhouse or my garden always helps when I ain't feelin' myself. Plus, I'll be right there to help if ya need it." She offered.

That could certainly be good. Cordelia, in her element, with Misty. Nothing was as good. But... she needed to get dressed. Once again, she began to worry her lower lip with her teeth. "Um..."

Misty furrowed her brows for a moment when the woman's mood changed so quickly. "What is it, Miss Cordelia?" she asked quickly.

"I... I've got to get dressed..." Cordelia's cheeks burned. Only Hank had seen her completely naked before, apart from Fiona and Myrtle.

Misty's eyes dropped for a moment to noticed Cordelia's bra straps. "O-oh... yes, right... do ya, uh, need help. I mean... pickin' somethin' out?" She asked nervously before swallowing hard. The idea of seeing Cordelia in just her underwear, or even naked brought thoughts to her mind she felt were wrong to have about a friend.

Cordelia was still holding Misty's hand; her mind suddenly flashed with dirty, naughty thoughts. But they weren't her own. Misty kissed her lovingly and caressed her bare waist, the other hand falling down to her—she quickly took her hand away from Misty's with a small gasp. She didn't want to see it like that. They were private thoughts, right? "Uh—um, I... I-I... I c-can't really, um," talking was hard. Did Misty have these thoughts about everyone? Cordelia hoped not... even if that wasn't really ethical. Oh boy.

When Cordelia pulled her hand away, her heartbeat picked up in speed. She wondered if Cordelia has seen what she thought for a split second. She gulped as she got off the bed, nearly tripping over her own feet. "Shit," she murmured before finding her balance.

Cordelia gulped again as she squeezed the sheets. She cursed internally. "Misty, are you alright?" she asked as she heard the stumbling. Cordelia felt like she had managed to fuck it up. Again.

Misty's eyes flickered up to Cordelia with a worried gaze. She didn't know what to say and before thinking about the best way to approach the situation, she blurted out: "Ya saw what I was thinkin', didn't ya? I'm s-so sorry..."

Cordelia didn't mean to talk about that now. Her heart picked up in speed. Should she lie? "I... we don't have to talk about it." But she wanted to talk about it. She wanted to talk and do something about it.

Misty bit her lip as she looked down. Her heart was still racing fast inside of her chest. It was so loud she thought Cordelia might hear it. "I-I'm sorry... I know it ain't right." She gulped as her palms grew sweaty. "Ya just so gorgeous, a-and ya so nice to me. I-it's unprofessional to say the least, I know that since you're my teacher 'nd all..." she stopped herself from rambling on further.

Gorgeous. That was the very last thing Cordelia felt like. She bit her inner cheek harshly as she felt herself growing emotional. "D-do you think about those things o-only with me?" Her palms were sweating. She was sweating all over, and even though she only had a sheer nightgown, she felt too hot underneath the covers.

Misty's eyes stayed on the floor. Her hands nervously played with the rings on her fingers. She gulped. "Y-yes, ma'am..." she nodded.

The words were enough to send a spiral of butterflies inside her stomach. Cordelia was somewhat relieved. "D-do you have feelings f-for me?" It was better to ask right away, Cordelia knew that. She didn't want to be played again. She didn't want to get all happy for misunderstanding things.

Misty took a deep, shaky breath. "I-I..." she stammered as her eyes slowly looked back up to Cordelia. "Yes..." she whispered nervously.

Yes. Cordelia's chest tightened up and softened down in a matter of seconds. She let out a deep breath. "Me too," she nearly murmured. "M-me too." Cordelia had never wanted to see Misty more than now.

Misty's eyes grew wide. Her heart nearly stopped for a few beats. Never in her wildest dreams has she ever imagined that Cordelia would feel the same way. "Really?" she grinned shyly.

Cordelia couldn't help but smile a little. She nodded, shyly and hesitantly extending a hand to Misty.

Misty stared at Cordelia's hand before shakily placing one of her own into it. She knew just by the simple touch the older witch would know how nervous she was.

Cordelia was trembling a little, too, and the soft-touch caused her to smile a little. She caressed Misty's hand with her fingertips. "I... I've been having those feelings for a while..."

Misty hesitantly sat back down to the bed, but this time a little closer to Cordelia. She could tell the woman was just as nervous as she was. "R-really?" she asked.

Cordelia nodded, shyly snuggling closer to Misty as she held her hand a little firmer.

Misty bit her lip before moving again so she was sitting beside Cordelia against the headboard. "So..." she chuckled nervously. "What's this mean?" her hand nervously caressed Cordelia's.

Cordelia was so nervous she kept fingers a little stiff. "I... I don't know..." she gulped. "Um... should we go out still?" she was panicking.

Misty smiled softly. "If ya still want to. If ya don't, I understand. We can go to the greenhouse and talk." She offered softly.

"I think... I think it'd be great to go out. Yeah." Cordelia took a deep breath.

Misty smiled softly. "Would you like me to help you pick something out?" She asked.

Cordelia nodded. "You... you're not ashamed of going o-out with me?"

Misty furrowed her brows as she shook her head. "Not at all, why would I be, Miss Cordelia?" she asked.

Cordelia shrugged. "It's me... most girls here are..."

Misty still didn't understand. Her hand gently squeezed Cordelia's. "Well, I dunno 'bout the other girls, but I ain't ashamed to be seen with ya... I like ya a lot, Miss Cordelia." She said as her thumb ran over the woman's knuckles.

Cordelia felt so miserable. She sniffed back a few tears before letting her head rest on Misty's shoulders. She felt so safe. "I like you, too, Misty." With trembling lips, she kissed what she could reach of Misty's neck.

Misty felt her heart wanting to leap out from her chest. The kiss sent a wave of new butterflies through her stomach. She took in a shaky breath before turning her head. She used her free hand to softly and gently cup Cordelia's cheek. Her thumb slowly ran over the part of the woman's cheek that wasn't injured from the acid. She was mindful of the small things. Gently, and almost hesitantly, she pressed her lips to Cordelia's in a soft kiss.

As her cheek was cupped, Cordelia felt what was coming. She reminded herself not to squeeze Misty's hand and, before she could even process what was going on, there was a pair of desired, dreamed of lips were against her own. She kissed Misty back just as softly, letting out a breath in satisfaction.

Misty didn't stay there long, she worried about kissing Cordelia too much that it would overwhelm the both of them. She pulled away gently, noses touching still. There was a wide smile on her face.

As they pulled away, Cordelia bit her lower lip. She held back a giggle as she smiled brightly to herself. Slowly, her hands moved to cup both of Misty's cheeks. "I wish I could see you," she said softly.

Misty couldn't help but smile when she saw the smile on Cordelia's lips. Her smile turned sad when she heard the woman's words. "Me too... I wish I could give ya my eyes."

Smiling sadly, Cordelia began to softly explore Misty Day's face. Her fingers passed on her cheeks, forehead, eyebrows, lips... she sighed. "Isn't it stupid?" she said softly. "How we can literally go to Hell and back but can't help cure diseases or disabilities?"

Misty closed her eyes for a moment. "Ya never know... I-I've looked in some books that I thought could help. I ain't found nothin' yet, but I ain't givin' up." She said.

Cordelia offered a small smile. "Thank you," she said softly, yet her voice carried all the sincerity in the world. "We should... get going?" Cordelia wasn't sure if going out was the best idea, but now she was full of butterflies in her stomach and she wouldn't miss the chance to stay close to Misty Day. Close in a way she didn't think she'd ever been able to actually be.

Misty nodded softly. "Yeah, I have a place or two in mind. Let's get ya up and ready." She said before happily slipping off the bed. She was excited and nervous to see where the day was headed.

Cordelia stepped out as well. She instantly reached for the wall. Her nightgown was a simple black and short. "Okay... c-can you get me a skirt? It can be the long, black one."

Misty tried to pry her eyes away from Cordelia's body. She hadn't seen the woman in anything less than her usual day/work clothes. "Y-yes," she said before walking toward the wardrobe. "Uh, wh-which skirt?" She asked as she tried to calm down.

Cordelia heard the way Misty Day's voice trembled. She sucked on her lower lip. "Um... the black, l-long one."

Misty nodded before grabbing the two items of clothing. "Should I set them on your bed, o-or do ya need help? I can help if ya need me to." She said as she calmed down a little, finally.

Cordelia felt herself getting nervous once again. She gulped. "I... I need some help... I tend to lose m-my balance..."

Misty nodded softly as she set the two items on the bed. She walked closer to Cordelia, softly taking her hands. "That's fine. I can help ya. I really don't mind." She smiled softly.

Cordelia hesitantly wrapped her hands around Misty's, seeing no thoughts this time, but Misty's sight. She gasped.

"What is it?" Misty asked worriedly. She softly caressed Cordelia's hands.

Cordelia smiled brightly. "I can see what you see." She saw herself. The scars were so rough against her pale face. Her smile soon vanished, and she pulled a hand away to touch her face. The image in her head disappeared. She quickly grabbed Misty's hand again.

Misty smiled sadly when she saw Cordelia's reaction. Her free hand moved to cup one of the woman's cheeks. "Ya still so beautiful, Miss Cordelia. I mean, I don't really know what ya looked like before, but you're gorgeous." She said.

Cordelia gulped back a knot in her throat. She felt her eyes getting teary. "I k-know I'm not really beautiful... I never was. B-but this is hard... and so s-shallow," she laughed bitterly at herself, trying to enjoy the touch on her cheek.

Misty's brows furrowed. "Delia, what are ya talkin' about? Of course, ya gorgeous... I mean, ya stunnin' really. Even with these scars. They don't make ya any less then ya are."

Cordelia looked down. She shook her head, taking a shaky, deep breath. "I-it's fine..."

Misty frowned as she caressed Cordelia's have and cheek. "It ain't though, Miss Cordelia. If ya can see through my eyes, I hope ya can see that I see ya like an angel sent from the heavens above." She said.

This time, Cordelia blushed a little. She saw herself, smiling all dumbly. "Can I kiss you again?" she asked dimly.

"Ya ain't gotta ask me, Delia." Misty grinned before lifting Cordelia head softly, just enough so that she could softly press her lips to plump, pink ones.

Cordelia let out a giggle before it was stopped by Misty's lips. She hummed lightly, lowly, as she moved to caress the small of Misty's back.

Misty smiled softly against Cordelia's lips as she kissed her a little harder than the times before. She kept the kisses gentle and light though, she didn't want to take this too fast.

It had been so long Cordelia had been kissed like that. She took a deep, shaky breath before hesitantly pulling away. Her heart was racing. Her stomach was twirling around.

Misty looked at Cordelia with curious eyes because of her reaction. "Ya okay?" she asked softly.

Cordelia nodded with a small smile. "Yes," she breathed out. "H-help me with the skirt?"

Misty nodded softly. "Course," she said before pulling her hands away from Cordelia's face and hand. She grabbed the skirt from off the bed, walked closer to Cordelia, and held it open. "I'm right in front of ya, hold onto my shoulders." She said.

Gulping loudly, Cordelia felt herself sweating. Hesitantly, she tapped around to find Misty, first feeling her curls and then eventually falling down to her shoulders. God, they were muscular. Once she stabilized herself, she shyly raised a leg up.

Misty smiled softly before moving the skirt so that Cordelia could slip a leg inside. "There ya go," she said softly.

Cordelia felt so useless. She stepped down and lifted the other leg up, biting her lower lip harshly.

Misty was staring down at Cordelia's legs and hadn't noticed the woman's look. She helped her step into the skirt before slowly pulling it up her thighs to rest on her hips. "There ya go," she said.

Cordelia gulped back a knot in her throat. "T-thank you, Misty." She offered a small, weak smile. "Can I hold your hands so I can choose a shirt?"

Misty nodded with a small smile. "Course, ya can. I already grabbed ya one, but ya can tell me if ya like it." She said softly as she softly took Cordelia's hand in her own. She looked at the shirt that was already laid out on the bed, it was a long-sleeved blouse with flowers on it. It was a favorite of her, she thought it just looked absolutely beautiful on Cordelia.

Cordelia nodded as she subconsciously squeezed Misty's hands. It was just so good, to see colors and patterns again. She had missed her room. A smile touched her lips. "I love this one..."

Misty smiled brightly as she squeezed Cordelia's hand back. "I was hopin' ya would. I like seein' ya in flowers." She said softly.

Cordelia couldn't help but feel her cheeks tinting. "Really?"

Misty smiled as she looked at Cordelia. "Yeah, they suit ya. They look pretty on ya, not that ya need help lookin' pretty, or nothin' like that, I just—they look nice."

Now, Cordelia could see herself. She saw the way she was smiling and the way her cheeks tinted more and more. She chuckled and looked down. "Thank you. So do you... in anything."

Misty blushed as well, looking down at her boots. "Thank ya, really... do ya need help with ya shirt too?" she asked.

Cordelia blushed even more. "Mhm..."

Misty nodded softly as she let go of Cordelia's hand so she could grab the shirt. "Alrighty, oh, we gotta get this nighty off first." She said without thinking.

Oh boy. Cordelia blushed all over once again and even more. She nodded. "I-I need a bra..."

Misty nodded softly. "Alright, I can get that for ya, too. Are ya bras in ya dresser?" She asked.

Cordelia nodded quietly.

Misty smiled sadly. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked as her hand went to grab Cordelia's again.

She was nervous. Very. And embarrassed. That wasn't how she wanted their confession of feelings to go like. "Nothing," she gulped. "Um, the black, cotton bra works..."

Misty nodded softly. She squeezed Cordelia's hand once more before letting go. She walked over to the dressed and grabbed the only black bra there was in the top drawer. "Okay, I got it." She said as she walked back. She couldn't help but feel nervous.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Cordelia had to take her clothes off. She was bare underneath the nightgown, apart from the skirt she had just put on. Hesitantly, she began taking her gown off, exposing her bare breasts and stomach.

Misty kept her eyes on Cordelia's face. She couldn't let herself see her teacher, her mentor, her crush in such a venerable state. "Can ya, uh, hold up your hands so I can get the straps on ya, 'nd then turn to I can hook it?" she asked softly.

Cordelia felt the chilly breeze on her exposed skin. She nodded and extended her arms, looking down in shame even if she couldn't see anything.

Misty frowned when Cordelia looked away from her. "What's the matter?" She asked in a soft tone as she slipped on the woman's bra.

Cordelia shook her head as she gulped, continuing to face the floor.

Misty furrowed her brows as she frowned. "Miss Cordelia, ya can talk to me, ya know?" she asked before softly motioning for Cordelia to turn by lightly turning her at the hips.

The hands on her hips were strong, warm. Cordelia liked it. She turned, nodding quietly. "I'm j-just not used to depending on others... it makes me feel even more useless."

Misty frowned even more. She pulled her hands away, so she was able to hook Cordelia's bra together in the back. "Ya ain't worthless, Miss Cordelia." She said before pulling her hands away again. It was hard for her to believe Cordelia felt so bad about herself. "At all. And needin' help from someone doesn't make ya worthless. It just means ya needed some help. There ain't nothing wrong with that, like at all." She explained before urging the older woman to turn around again.

Cordelia was tired of crying so much. She saw how her face looked, and how her eyes were so blotchy even, so they were all scarred. Turning once again, she sighed quietly. "I believe I'm not in a very good mental space right now." She said quietly, covering herself with her arms. Cordelia was a crier, but the way she had been sobbing lately wasn't typical.

Misty frowned even more than before. She grabbed the shirt off the bed. "Can I help ya with your shirt?" She asked when she noticed Cordelia was so quick to cover herself.

"Please." Cordelia nodded. She hated herself. She hated to be in such a place. She hated how broken and fragile she looked to the outside world now. She had always been like that inside, but that was only inside.

Misty chewed on her bottom lip as she held the shirt up. "Can ya lift ya arms and I'll put it on ya?"

Cordelia nodded once again, raising her arms. "I'm sorry..."

Misty instantly shook her head. "Whatcha sayin' sorry for?" she asked as she slowly put the shirt onto Cordelia.

Cordelia shrugged. "Being a mess... I guess that's not the Cordelia you are u-used to." She chuckled bitterly. "I understand i-if... I don't k-know."

Misty's brows furrowed again as she shook her head. She tugged the shirt down to Cordelia's waist before softly taking her hands into her own. "Cordelia, ya ain't a mess. And if what?" she asked softly. Her hands ran over the backs of the other blonde's hands.

With hands back on her own, she could see herself again. But she wanted to see Misty. She allowed her fingers to tangle with Misty's. "I-if... you changed your mind..." She could see how sad she looked. How miserable.

Misty frowned again as she shook her head. "Delia, nothin's gonna change my mind about ya. I can promise ya that." She said.

Cordelia saw the way her face changed to a small smile and her stomach twisted around. Letting one of Misty's hands go, Cordelia guided it to her cheek and caressed it. She couldn't see anything anymore, but she felt the soft expanse of Misty's cheek vividly. Her thumb caressed it lovingly. "Thank you."

Misty smiled softly, brightly. "Ya welcome, but ya don't need to thank me..." she said as her now free hand went to Cordelia's cheek as well, caressing it. "Do ya wanna go out still?" She asked.

Leaning into the touch, Cordelia closed her eyes and focused on it. She nodded, and her free hand moved to pull Misty closer by the waist. She still didn't say anything.

Misty smiled softly as she walked closer, now just a mere few inches between them. "Whenever ya wanna go, just lemme know." She said softly, smiling.

Cordelia nodded. She could feel Misty's hot breath tickling her face. Caressing up her waist to her arm and neck, she cupped both of Misty Day's cheeks and caressed them, gently resting her forehead against hers. "You are one of a kind, Misty Day." She whispered lovingly.

Misty felt her cheeks burning with a soft blush as she smiled even more than before. She licked her lips that suddenly felt dry as she wrapped her free arm around Cordelia's waist. "Thank ya, Miss Cordelia. Ya are, too. I really mean that. Ya amazing, and wonderful, and gorgeous, and... I could go on forever." She chuckled shyly.

Cordelia chuckled back, stepping closer to Misty; it was impossible. She leaned closer; their lips brushed. She felt the expanse slowly, and then she closed the gap. Her stomach filled with the crazy butterflies once again.

Misty felt her breath hitch in the back of her throat as she slowly and softly pressed their lips together. The kiss was soft, light, loving even. The hand that was wrapped around the woman's waist softly caressed the small of her back.

Cordelia felt her throat getting clouded with a bubble of warmth and excitement and love and everything she hadn't felt in so long. Her lips moved softly and so, so passionately against Misty's. She wanted to stay like that forever.

Misty's lips curved upward into a smile, which in turn broke the kiss. "Sorry," she giggled shyly.

Cordelia smiled as she let out a giggle back, caressing Misty's cheeks and allowing her hands to go down to her waist, caressing her sides. "I love your laugh..."

Misty blushed even more as she looked down shyly. "I love yours, too. It's cute, like the rest of ya." She said.

Cordelia giggled a little louder this time. She smiled brightly as she bit her lower lip, and her hand slipped down to find Misty's. "Come here." She guided them to the bathroom—to what she thought was the bathroom. Cordelia was about to collapse onto the wall.

Misty was quick to pull Cordelia close to her, stopping her. "Where are ya headed? Ya almost ran into a wall, and it'd be a damn shame if ya had a bruise on that pretty face of yours." She said softly.

Cordelia gasped as she was pulled back. Misty was strong, and she was weak from being in bed so much. Her body bounced back against Misty's. "Oof—" it hurt a little. She nearly fell. "Sorry—the bathroom."

Misty's eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she realized she had been rough with Cordelia. "I-I'm the one that should be sorry. I-I didn't—I... didn't mean to hurt ya if I did..." her voice was slightly shaky as she grew nervous.

Cordelia's whole body hurt. She felt as if she had been ran over, which caused her to feel even worse for how weak she had become. "It's okay." She reached for both of Misty's hands now, caressing them as she turned to her. "It's okay," she reassured once again as she began seeing what Misty was seeing.

Misty gulped as she nodded softly. She felt the slight sting of tears starting to appear, but she quickly blinked them away as she tried to smile. "I'd never meant to hurt ya, Miss C-Cordelia."

Cordelia frowned as her vision got blurry for a second. She put two plus two together, watching herself through Misty's eyes. "Misty... are you crying?" her voice dripped with love and affection.

Misty sniffled as she looked down. "I'm tryin' not to..." she mumbled.

The sight in her mind went down. Cordelia could see their feet. Her stomach tightened. "Misty... sweetheart..." she let go of one of her hands, seeing nothing once again. Cordelia blindly reached to Misty Day's waist, caressing it. She was getting better at knowing her body already. "Sweetheart, it's okay. I know you'd never hurt me... I trust you in a way I've n-never quite trust anyone before."

Misty sniffled as she looked back up. "Really?" she asked before wiping her tears away. "Cause I know the feelin'... it's why I got so scared. I-I'd never mean to hurt ya." She said softly.

"Really." Cordelia nodded with a small smile. "Don't be scared... you radiate joy, Misty Day. Kindness, light... protection. You're as pure as a diamond, like a flower blooming in the spring. I trust you."

Misty blushed bright red as she chuckled shyly. "I dunno if I'd say all that, but thank ya, Delia... I mean it. You're all that and more to me." She said.

Cordelia blushed. "I'm glad you think so highly of me," she chuckled shyly. Her hand squeezed Misty's waist a little. It was so firm.

Misty smiled softly, shyly still. "How could I not?" she asked before softly pulling away, just enough so she could start guiding Cordelia towards the bathroom. "Alrighty, what did ya need in here?" she asked.

Cordelia chuckled and looked down, walking a little more carefully now. As she felt the floor getting colder underneath her feet, she smiled shyly. "I want to see you..."

Misty smiled shyly as she looked up at herself in the mirror. She grabbed Cordelia's hand, so she could see what she did. Her hair was in its usual messy curls, her eyeliner was smudged under her eyes from not washing it away the day before, and her freckles were a little brighter from spending so much time outside.

Cordelia instantly saw the image flashing in her mind. She squeezed Misty's hands a little before smiling, biting her lower lip. Misty was breathtaking just as she remembered, but even more so now, smiling. Cordelia was in awe.

Misty blushed as she saw the look on Cordelia's face. She smiled shyly as she looked down. "Wish I could give ya my eyes or somethin'."

Cordelia shook her head as she now saw the floor. She squeezed Misty's hands. "Don't say such a thing..."

"I just mean so ya don't feel so bad," Misty explained as she looked back up, trying to remind herself that Cordelia could see through her eyes.

Instantly, Cordelia smiled once again. She nodded, lost in the sight inside her head. She let go of one of Misty's hands to hug her from behind, quickly grabbing it once again. Her head rested on her shoulder as she now saw them both together. It looked... weirdly nice.

Misty couldn't help but smile, even more, at the action. Her free hand rested over Cordelia's that was around her waist. She felt the swarm of butterflies in her stomach kicking up again—going crazy with nervousness, but a good nervousness.

Cordelia was mesmerized. She stared at the mirror, hands caressing Misty's. Misty Day was an angel sent from above. Herself, though... she looked paler and thinner and like she hadn't slept for ages. Her hair was a mess. She sighed, although her stomach twirled with happiness.

Misty smiled softly when she saw Cordelia looking so happy. "Can I do anything for ya?" she asked softly.

Cordelia looked down. "You do... you help me as no one else can. I just wish I could help myself..."

Misty frowned softly before turning to look at Cordelia. She softly wrapped her arms around the woman. "Hey, ya can help yaself... sometimes we just need help doin' that. There ain't nothin' wrong with needin' help, ya hear me?" she asked.

Cordelia didn't see anything anymore. She kind of preferred it that way, for the subject now. The arms around herself carried a strange warmth, a strange and missed feeling of being loved. "The thing is that... sleeping is all I've been doing..."

Misty smiled sadly. "There ain't nothin' wrong with sleepin' sometimes. I used to sleep a lot when I was alone 'cause I didn't have nothin' better to do with my time." She explained.

Cordelia was still hesitant to reach and touch Misty. She caressed her waist slowly. "I'm sorry... you shouldn't have been alone for so long. I'm so glad you found us." That was, in fact, the best thing that had happened to Cordelia in ages.

Misty smiled sadly. "It's okay... I feel like I've found what I've always been searchin' for." She said softly. She didn't want to admit, just yet, that it was Cordelia she was talking about. She didn't want to scare her away, but the woman brought her a feeling of safety she had never felt before.

Cordelia smiled softly. "Me too." She, as well, didn't want to admit she didn't think she had felt that way in a long, long time. "Do you mind helping me with my hair...?"

Misty smiled as well as she softly shook her head. "Not at all, Miss Cordelia. What do ya want me to do? I can just brush it, or I can style it. I mean, I ain't that great at doin' hair... mine's a rat's nest, but I know a few things." She chuckled nervously.

Letting out a chuckle, Cordelia shook her head. "I love your hair. And just brush it is perfect. Thank you, Misty."

Misty blushed as she smiled softly. "Really?" she asked as she pulled away slightly. She saw the bench in front of the sink and pulled it out and guided Cordelia to it. "Sit here," she said.

As Misty pulled away, Cordelia played weirdly with her hands. Now that she had "seen" again, being in the dark felt scary. As she walked with Misty, though, she could see the bench, so she followed and sit there. "Thank you, lo... l-love?" her voice cane softly, shyly. She hadn't done that in a while.

Misty's lips curled upward into a shy smile. She let out a nervous giggle. "Ya can call me that if ya want, I don't really mind it. I wasn't sure if I should keep callin' ya Miss Cordelia or not." She said explained as she grabbed the brush off the counter.

Giggling nervously as well, Cordelia looked down. "Miss Cordelia is uptight..."

Misty bit her lip as she lightly took some of Cordelia's hair into her hand to start gently brushing out the ends. "I know... I just ain't real sure what to call ya."

The fingertips on her hair worked so gently. Cordelia hummed lowly. "Have you ever called a loved one something before?"

Misty shook her head softly. "No, not really." She said shyly. She ran the brush through the ends of Cordelia's hair, slowly working her way up to keep in mind of not hurting her or brushing through the tangles she came across.

Cordelia leaned back softly, subconsciously. "What's your favorite flower?"

Misty hummed softly as she kept brushing and running her fingers through Cordelia's hair. "Either lavenders or sunflowers... what are yours?" she asked.

"White roses," Cordelia smiled to herself. And then she chuckled bitterly. "Hank always got me red ones..."

Misty smiled sadly. "Red roses are so borin'. White roses are always better. They're for purity, innocence, and new love." She said with a smile.

Cordelia bit her lip as she smiled softly. "I agree. They, um," she blushed. "They kinda match us."

Misty smiled shyly as she ran her fingers through Cordelia's now brushed out hair. "Ya think so?"

Cordelia nodded. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She hadn't felt this happy and this excited for life in a while.

Misty couldn't help but smile even more when she saw how genuinely happy Cordelia seemed. It warmed her heart. "Would ya like to eat while we're out? Or do ya just wanna eat somethin' here?" she asked as she set the brush onto the counter.

Cordelia was embarrassed to eat out. To go out, in general. But she thought she was even more embarrassed to be seen by the girls. Which was absolutely stupid, but she couldn't help it. "Hm... out, I suppose..."

Misty could notice the conflict on Cordelia's face. She gently took one of her hands and caressed it softly. "It's really up to ya... we could even grab somethin' and go eat somewhere else. The flower shop I wanna take ya to has some seats and benches outside. We could eat there." She suggested.

The hand on hers always felt so warm and welcoming. Cordelia could see again. She saw herself in the mirror. Misty's eyes were always on her. It made her blush and tingle all over with happiness. "That sounds very sweet..."

Misty smiled brightly. "I think so too! What would ya like to eat? We can have anythin'. I could even make us somethin'." She suggested.

Cordelia giggled once again. It was impossible not to, with Misty being so cute and with all the butterflies in her stomach. "What's your favorite food?"

"Strawberries and chocolate, but that ain't really a meal." Misty chuckled shyly. "What's yours?"

Cordelia chuckled. Her insides were full of love. "I don't really know... oatmeal?"

Misty smiled softly as she chuckled. "Oh, come on, everyone's got somethin' they love. Their guilty pleasure food." She said as she caressed Cordelia's hand more with a bright smile. Her stomach swirled with happy butterflies.

Cordelia laughed, twirling their fingers together. "It used to be you..."

Misty blushed as she looked down. "I'm ya guilty pleasure?" She asked.

"Yeah..." Cordelia blushed fiercely. "You know... you like it, but you can't tell."

Misty bit her lip as she nodded. "I know exactly whatcha mean." She said softly.

Cordelia bit her lip as well, caressing Misty's hand still. "So... what about we buy some bagels and some strawberries and chocolate?"

Misty smiled brightly again. "How'd ya know I loved bagels?" she asked.

"You eat one every morning," Cordelia answered simply, lovingly.

Misty smiled as she played with the ring that was on Cordelia's finger. She chuckled. "That's true, ya know me so well, darlin'." She said, hoping the pet name wouldn't be too much.

Darling. Cordelia almost squealed. "I... pay attention, that's all."

Misty smiled shyly. "I try to, but sometimes I get too wrapped up in my own thoughts." She said softly.

"That's sweet," Cordelia smiled to herself, still playing with Misty's fingers. They were strong but still soft. It was perfect. Everything about Misty was perfect. She wanted to kiss her again, but she was scared of being too much.

Misty smiled softly. "Wanna get goin'?" She asked softly as she caressed Cordelia's hand again.

Cordelia nodded. "Yes, please. Do you... um, shoes..."

"Oh, right!" Misty said before slowly pulling her hand away. "Which pair would ya like?" she asked.

"Black flats, please." Cordelia smiled shyly.

Misty found them near the bathroom door. She brought them back into the bathroom and knelt down to the floor. "I'm right here." She said before slowly lifting the woman's foot to slip the shoe on.

Cordelia hated it so much. She liked being independent, she wasn't used to counting on other people. Shyly, she allowed her foot to slip into the shoe. "Thank you," she said once again.

"Ya ain't gotta thank me," Misty said softly as she helped Cordelia into the next shoe.

"Still..." Cordelia settled her feet and hesitantly began to get up.

Misty got up from the floor and gently took one of Cordelia's hands again. "It's okay, really. I don't mind helpin' ya if ya need me to." She explained as she guided Cordelia back toward the bedroom.

Now holding Misty's hands again, Cordelia could see. She followed Misty, nodding softly. "This is the best I've looked in ages," she chuckled.

Misty smiled sadly. "Ya always look amazin'. What are ya talkin' about?" She asked.

"You're such a sweet thing, aren't you?" Cordelia couldn't actually believe Misty thought those things about her.

Misty chuckled shyly as she looked down. "That's ya." She said.

Cordelia laughed as she shook her head. "Shall we?"

Misty smiled brightly. "Yes, we shall." She said before guiding Cordelia toward the door.

Cordelia followed with Misty, nervousness crawling in her stomach. Being out after so long felt very weird.

Misty could sense Cordelia's nervousness. "Hey, it's okay. Ya got nothin' to be nervous about." She said.

Except, she did. She had to deal with being blind, with receiving pitiful stares and, now, with stares about her new, if she could call it like that already, relationship with Misty. She nodded, though, lacing their fingers together. I do love her in a way.

Misty frowned when Cordelia didn't say anything. She stopped just before the stairs and gently caressed the woman's hand. "Please talk to me."

Cordelia saw herself once again. She looked so distressed, so pathetic... her head hesitantly looked up to Misty. "I'm just nervous," she said softly.

Misty frowned even more. Her free hand came up to softly caress Cordelia's cheek. "Ya ain't gotta be nervous. I promise. If anyone says or does anything I'll slap 'em for ya, okay?" She joked, hoping to lighten the mood and lift Cordelia a little.

Usually, Cordelia would have given a moral speech to Misty. But that wasn't usually. She chuckled lovingly. "Thank you, Misty." Her free hand caressed Misty's waist, and she leaned closer to kiss her lips until...

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thliahls · 4 years

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b-b-b-back once again , cldn’t wait can’t be tamed .. as with all my intros .. tis a doozy so feel free to mssg me for a tl;dr if we feelin lazy i will totally understand , or scroll to the wc’s i tried to think of as many as possible bc i wanna plot wit every1 )): !! anyhaps like this n i will come force my heathen of a gurl on u !

⌠ GRACIE ABRAMS, 20, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, THALIA HALL! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in AWARENESS TRAINING, BREATH CONTROL, HAND TO HAND COMBAT + THREAT ELIMINATION and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of dirt under a meticulously painted manicure, the shrill ring of her phone and poorly treated books creased at the spine. when it’s the (scorpio)’s birthday on 11/02/2000, they always request FISH FINGERS from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

biography / pinterest

was born in the states but dad and her moved back to england the year she was born, which was also the year he graduated blackthorne. his mother was ‘never in the picture’ which has left her imagination to go down several paths, discontent with all of them. unfortunately daddy dearest crafts a space where she’d never dare ask ! she has a bit of an obsession with the blackthorne graduation ritual because of it .

was immediately placed under the care of two retired spies, sort of a foster care system within the spy community. dad still visited whenever he wasn’t working and still technically had full custody over her. up until she went to prep school, led a very sheltered life. homeschooled by them, but they were fairly lax. her dad expected a certain amount of training to be done, but her and her foster siblings usually mucked about a fair bit. her training would always be done in the form of games which she discovered early on that she loved to win, it made her fiercely competitive.

was very spoiled by them, grew up in a huge country estate and excelled in her home school classes without trying, which made her extremely entitled. she’d often wrestle with her siblings in the garden , and bring them to tears . biting them, pulling their hair, slapping them around . it would earn her a slap on the wrist , but it was never anything a sorry couldn’t fix . spends her free time laying in the grass reading , and learning the romance languages and was raised speaking cantonese bc that’s her foster parents native language . more invested in the sociology of linguistics and how it can be used to assert and diminish power but only cares for this in a self-serving way .

spy prep rolls around and it’s very exciting ! as predicted ( by herself lmao ) she does well, without even having to try. socially , she drifts through groups , picking up on cues on how to interact , what works well and what doesn’t . doesn’t find anyone particularly interesting and would much rather be reading but by not having any sort of allegiance to one particular group , it ends with her being very well-liked . the top marks is unsurprising, further fuelled by some amusing competition , finding that her desire to earn good grades comes more from wanting to spite others than actually wanting to achieve good grades . finals roll around and she gets the highest grade in her year and in tandem with being well liked, earns her place as valedictorian . she’s very proud of herself, not for earning valedictorian, but for besting aylin .

in the months prior , on a field trip she meets a boy and for the first time in ever , exudes big dumb energy gets his number , starts texting him , starts sneaking off campus to meet him ... he’s a total casanova , a big romantic and exactly like the protags in the romance novels she reads . it’s a big prep school no-no but as long as no one finds out it’s fine ! then walks in aylin, and destroys her whole career by reporting her ( she doesn’t know for sure it was her , but has her suspicions since their rivalry had run throughout the entirety of prep school ). she’s kicked out , denied graduation , valedictorian and is humiliated . she calls her civilian boyfriend the night of , but his line’s already been disconnected , presumably threatened / beat up by her lovely dad .

her father is livid , but is able to use his connections to get her a place at another , less prestigious prep school and negotiates with the school to take her to and fro every day , like he’s picking her up from daycare . he stops working for a full year to do this , and expects her to feel indebted to him . the monotony of repeating the year makes her irritable, made worse by the snickers she constantly hears in the hallways . but she has gallagher to look forward to , knowing she’ll still be going there because continuing tradition is important to her father , who also decided her majors for her and had a big argument with him when she asked if she could take linguistics ! he makes her call him every single night at 6p.m. if she misses a call , he contacts the school . she hates him .

personality

passive aggressive emphasis on the aggressive : is always withholding judgement, but inevitably always lets a comment slip. think, ‘ you’re so confident to wear whatever you want to, ’ or, ‘ wow ! that colour’s so bright i almost need sunglasses ! ’ petty as hell in all respects physically too , spots a bruise on your arm ? you bet she’s gonna press it and ask if that hurts, then say sorry when you yelp .

hypocritical : detests people who don’t try but doesn’t try herself and justifies it by getting really good grades . believes there’s no point sleeping with someone unless you love them , then will drunkenly hook up with someone that very same night .

hope less romantic : she has no hope for others but remains a romantic . thinks people have given up on courting people and wooing them . expects flowers at her door , good morning texts and candlelit dinners . leaves secret admirer notes under people's door to people she thinks are cute and thinks she might have a crush on in the future , quite creepy but at least she doesn't use magazine clippings anymore !

spiteful : life is a game and she wants to win it ! makes everything into a competition , even unconsciously . goes up to the adjacent treadmill and makes the speed and incline several points higher than the person next to her . painting your nails with her ? she’ll make sure hers looks better and point out that you didn’t coat the ends of your nails . board game night with her is fun for no one but her , i’m so sorry if she ever ropes you into one !

bookworm : her disgustingly high standards about love come from her singular past relationships and books . read one too many jane austen’s and now she’s crazy

loyal : her loyalty is hard to earn , but once you’ve got it , you’ve got it .

*think the arrogant exterior of jesse eisenberg as zucc in the social network with emaline addario ( everything sucks ) type dramatics every so often to keep it spicy !

wanted connections

toxic friendship ! a slow burn relationship of passive-aggressiveness and co-dependency, one day they stop taking her shit or say they’re going to but always end up in each other’s company at the end of the day . or maybe one day they don’t come back to her and thalia is forced to admit she may have been too harsh .

hook-ups she has when drunk ! which she will only have when drunk , to follow her unspecified , no rights , belief system . will pretend like she does not know you the next day . oh to be a romantic , but a scorpio . a tough life .

people she has crushes on ! and leaves handwritten poetry under their door or in their notebooks , absolutely humiliating that she acts this way ! bonus points for a note that’s left under the door and the wrong person reads it .

sparring buddies but make it feral ! no rules sorta deal, out in the woods, scratches from twigs, bloodied rocks, anything to let some of her pent up aggression out . they can go swimming after : )

daddy issues gang ! someone hears her on the phone in the hallway , inquires , proceeds to talk about how much they hate their fathers . thalia tells them how she’s going to kill him one day <3 alternatively , her father may have been the cause or implicated in the death of your chara’s loved one .

roommates ! self-explanatory , but she probably dislikes them and is unfairly harsh on them . sets rules but lets herself be exempt from them stuff like that x also for berlin she requested a room by herself lmao n deluded herself into thinking she wld be accommodated , thus i’m going to leave whoever she rooms with up to fate and she will hate it regardless of whoever she gets roomed with !

someone who hates aylin as much as she does ! yes this is deserving of a whole connection , thalia would probably die for this person . alternatively , aylin’s friends who she hates as a byproduct of hating aylin or tries to get them to hate aylin .

rivals ! because it’s the only thing that motivates her to do well in school .

encryption major ! who helps her find out about her dad’s past , and present . what he’s done and what he continues to do . also a way for her to maybe switch one of her majors to linguistics and hacking a report that says she’s still in her predetermined majors .

take a chill pill ! someone who gets her to relax , makes her watch reality television which she relentlessly criticizes , but this person won’t give up trying to make her less of an awful human bean .

anything else ! i am , as the kids say , down to clown .

#gallagher:intro #im .. Shweaty so im gna take a shower but i shall msg as i soon as im squeeky clean #omg i always 4get my theme just doesn't format nything i promis it looks nicer in dashboard mode owo

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dailyaudiobible · 4 years

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09/08/2020 DAB Transcript

Isaiah 1:1-2:22, 2 Corinthians 10:1-18, Psalms 52:1-9, Proverbs 22:26-27

Today is the 8th day of September welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is great to be here with you today like it is every day because we come together and we take another step forward on the journey that we have committed to for this year, which is to move through the entire Bible together in community, day by day step-by-step, month by month. And, so, here we are at the threshold of some new territory in the Scriptures. We finished Song of Solomon yesterday with Jill and that was the wisdom literature of the Bible. We will fully conclude the wisdom literature and poetry of the Bible when we…when we conclude the book of Proverbs. But now we’re turning the corner in the Old Testament into the category known as the major prophets and we will begin with the book of Isaiah. And, so, before we do that let’s just fly over it. It’s good to get our bearings as we go into these prophetic books because they are full of symbolism and allegory and all kinds of interesting imagery.

Introduction to the book of Isaiah:

So, Isaiah, like we were just saying, is a part of the category known as the major prophets. And they're not known as major prophets because they have more importance than the minor prophets. They’re considered the major prophets because of the amount of material that is in…in the major prophets. So, the major prophets are Isaiah, which we’re about to launch into and then Jeremiah, Lamentations, Ezekiel, and Daniel. So, for example, Isaiah contains 66 chapters and it’s one of the longer books in the Bible where some of the minor prophets, a lot of the minor prophets we’ll read through in one single day. But we’ll see as we begin to move into Isaiah that he is very passionate about what he's saying. And we will also find a number of passages that we move through to be familiar, some of the passages in Isaiah are some of the most famous passages in the Bible. Isaiah is used fairly extensively to as it's quoted in the New Testament. Jesus quoted from Isaiah 8 times in the Gospels. It was Isaiah that Jesus used to announce His ministry, like to launch His ministry in Nazareth when he’s like, “the spirit of the Lord is upon me”, right, “for He has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.” And if we remember right, Jesus does this declaration, He reads from the book of Isaiah and He says this prophecy is fulfilled in your hearing and all of the people wanted to throw him off of a cliff after that. So, we can see Isaiah has some significance certainly rooted in the Old Testament, but very influential in the new Testament. As far as trying to place Isaiah historically, we’re probably looking around the second half of the eighth century BC. So, I guess if you kind of think of King David and…and then you think all the way to Jesus, I think that’s approximately 1500 years. So, Isaiah is like halfway between, roughly. And it seems like Isaiah was a person of prestige in some sort of way. Like, maybe part of a part of the upper-class, part of the aristocracy because he had access to kings and royalty and if he didn’t, you’re not just gonna get a crazed peasant coming in out of the countryside and having access over a long period of time to a number of kings. So, he was probably well educated and well connected. He prophesied during the reigns of five different kings and all of these kings we moved through their stories when we were going through the books of Samuel and Kings and Chronicles. So, Isaiah brings us back into that time, specifically among the reigns of certain kings, Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, Hezekiah and Manasseh, and then it's under Manasseh that…that the tradition of the Christian faith as well as the Jewish tradition was that Isaiah was martyred by Manasseh who ordered him to be…who ordered him to be sawed in half. There's no biblical reference to that. Like, there's nothing verifying that tradition. I guess the closest we would have is a reference in Hebrews that says some…some of the prophets died by stoning, some were sawed in half others were killed with the sword. And the tradition is that Manasseh was so fed up with Isaiah that he had him killed in this way. Now as we launch in, we’re gonna see like the parts of the Bible where you’re like, “this is the angry God part, He’s working through the prophets and doom and gloom and judgment.” And we will see some sobering things that get set, especially in the first half of Isaiah and then the whole complexion changes and the comforts and the promise of restoration and the promise of hope begins to emerge and it becomes one of the more encouraging parts of the Bible. And we must remember, these prophetic books, plenty of symbolism, plenty of metaphor, plenty that can be taken allegorically, plenty of allegorical language. And that's what we’ll experience in Isaiah and throughout the rest of the prophets. So, there are different lenses to approach these texts through but it's interesting just to kind of watch ourselves as we hear it or as we read it. Like, “what are we…what do we notice as symbolism? And then what is it that we’re taking literally and how and why are we doing that?” It's good to...it…it's good to exercise those muscles especially as we move closer and closer to the end of the year and like books like Revelation. How do we determine what we’re taking literally? How do we determine what is symbolic? And how can we determine what the symbol…the symbolism is about? And, so, let's just kind of watch ourselves as we’re hearing things and invite the Holy Spirit to lead us where we need to be led as we go through these books together and how they apply to our lives. So, we’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week. And let's dive in. Isaiah chapters 1 and 2.

Prayer:

We thank you father for your word and we thank you for the many complexions that it brings us through. And as we enter the books of major prophecy now, we invite your Holy Spirit to lead and guide us. And as we continue through the letters of Paul we ask that you take us deeper in our understanding of our relationship with you, deeper in our understanding of what the transformation that you are doing within us looks like and how to live into that and apply it to our lives. We love you. We need you. We worship you. Our hope is in you and you alone. Holy Spirit well up from within and lead us deeper into Jesus today we ask in the precious name of our Savior. Amen.

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dailyaudiobible.com is the website and it’s where you find out what's going on around here.

It’s a birthday in the Hardin house today. My son Maxwell who….who read Daily Audio Bible kids for a couple years when he was much younger leaves his teen years today and becomes 20, which, you know, these birthday’s, they go by and you start thinking, “ha…how did that happen. I still feel like I'm 20 in some areas of my life. Like I have a lot of growing up to do in my own self. How did this happen?” But congratulations to Max. And we rejoice and celebrate that today.

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If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, thank you profoundly. If the mission to…to speak out loud God's word for anybody who will listen to it and to build community around that rhythm, of that's become a part of your life and is meaningful then thank you for your partnership. Thank you so very much. So, there's a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you’re using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

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And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello my name is Michelle I’m on my third trip around the sun on the DAB family journey and I just wanted to thank all of you for the encouragement of coming back every day and standing strong when things are hard and being real and true and brave and faithful. So, thank you. I hope I can encourage you too in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Hello DAB this is Jeremy Naff with…in Oregon and I’m just calling for the first time. I’ve been listening to the DAB now for…since January when we started the new…new time through the Bible and really just appreciate this. Blind Tony’s poem today just struck a note with me it’s almost like he was reading my own story. It’s when I get up early in the morning before the sun is up and listen to the DAB and spend time of the Lord. I was diagnosed with cancer four years ago and I’m just asking for prayer regarding that. The treatments haven’t been working. It’s now spreading to my lungs and now I’m going back on a backup chemo pill because the trials didn’t work, and I was kicked off of it. And I just want to spend my time wisely that I have if I don’t have much time. So, I pray that you would include me in your prayers for that, that the Lord would help me to know what to do, how to spend my time so that I’m not wasting my time. And pray for healing two. I really don’t want to have my life shortened necessarily although I do have peace about everything that’s going on in my life. So, I thank you for all of you guys prayer request. I pray for each and every one as I hear them. Thank you so much for your love and for your care. Have blessed day.

Dabbers, Jordan in Texas. Let’s pray. Father, I pray for Ryan Kelleher in…in California who called in letting us know about his heavy heart and him just thinking about maybe a possible mental illness. Not sure…it sounds like what’s going on. But Father we just give You thanks for Ryan and that he is turning his attention to You and wanting to walk this life with You and through whatever comes his way. And, so, Lord I pray that You would hold his heavy heart, that You would be to him a light yoke, an easy burden in exchange for this heavy heart. And, so, Lord thank You for what You’re doing in his life. We pray against mental illness, we ask You Father for the mind of Christ Father that You talk about in Your word and just stability and Lord just a rhythm of grace in his life that maybe he’s coming out stuff or making changes in his life as You lead him but that, You know, that he’s just walking with You with Your rhythm, with Your pace and not looking at this person or that person in comparison but that he’s just looking to You Father, that You are the author and finisher of his faith. And…and, so, anyways we love You Ryan. We pray these things in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Okay so Tony the Narrator here hello everybody I love each and every one of you. Just a quick update. I’m in my new place. I’m still unpacking but it’s…it’s a lovely room. It’s a 20-minute walk from work and things are really calm. I’d like to thank everybody who prayed for me on Facebook. You all know who you are, and I love all of you. And I just want you to know that I’m praying for each and every one of you. Please keep praying for Vesna, Will, and the young Muslim man who I only got to share one message and it seems to have all disappeared off of Facebook now. So, I’ll probably never find out what happened there, but I sent him a challenge. I said you believe that God speaks to you in your dreams, ask Jesus to explain to you if He’s real or not. Hopefully that’s going to hit home. So, yeah, Vesna and Will they’re friends who I got to share the gospel…I had an amazing day…I shared the gospel with three different people at three different times. It was amazing. So, everybody, I’m praying with you, crying with you, laughing you, rejoicing with you. It’s…it’s an emotional roller coaster this Daily Audio Bible thing isn’t it? It’s been six years of suffering, tears, joy, and jubilance. So, God bless you all. Love you Brian and the Hardin family. China and Ben, we…I’m loving you guys too. God bless you all. Bye-bye.

Please pray for my baby boy. He was born at 26 weeks, three months early and…and he was doing really well for the first few weeks of life. But he’s had two emergency surgeries because he had an intestinal perforation and we’d just gotten to the other side of that and his stomach was healing up and was finally able to consume real food…I mean not real food but breastmilk and we found that he had a heart murmur which lead to us doing an echocardiogram where we realized that he had not one but three heart defects and that he’s gonna need surgery. Please pray for my baby boy Noah that he will be safe. That he’ll make it through this. God has been so faithful __ for us and having him be born. __ for him and pray for peace for me and my husband __ comfort…

I would like to ask for prayer for Chris. He recently dedicated or re-dedicated his life or Jesus but he has been under spiritual and physical attack. I ask that you pray for him. Plus, he’s starting a new career which has taken a while because our states been pretty closed up and it’s caused him to get kind of depressed, but I pray or I ask that you would keep Chris in prayer. I believe God has His hand on him and the enemy doesn’t want him to move forward. So, I ask that you would please pray for his physical healing, spiritual healing, and these attacks on him would stop. He also needs…is in need of finances. But again, his name is Chris and I appreciate the Daily Audio Bible. This is my first time calling. God bless all of you.

Yes, I am calling on behalf of my son 17 years old my wife and I and family adopted him when he was 7, 10 years ago. I’m just asking for prayer. My 17-year-old son is in a residential treatment center and he suffers with a mental disease called the DID, which is dissociative identity disorder and also a mood dysregulation disorder. My son has been in lots of trouble and had a lot of issues and it’s been very difficult. The last couple years have been extremely difficult. I’m just asking for prayer for him, that he would have angels do battle on his behalf. I pray Lord that he would focus on himself and focus on God and that he would learn…do a better job learning and accepting responsibility for some of the actions and some of the things that he needs to change with himself. I just ask that everybody here on the Daily Audio Bible would pray for Marvin. He needs to be healed. He needs to have a future that he can look forward to. Thank you so much.

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macbookpro-hard-drive · 5 years

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control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.5

why is it almost 9 and im tired already smh

anyway, i almost titled this part 5 because i dont know what numbers are

update im a dumbass bc this was, indeed, part 5

warnings: uhhh sick moments. hospitals. guilt. squip aftermath. mentions of nightmares.

You woke up days later in the hospital.

The first thing that happened was a blur of motions: you trying to rip out your IV as you panicked, and a nurse who just opened the door grabbed you by the wrist to stop you before you did any true damage. Then came a thousand questions from a thousand people, all trying to pinpoint the when and why and how and what happened that you could barely remember at that moment. When your breathing picked up and panic set in, the room was cleared save for a single person taking vitals. When he left, you were alone. The room felt cold. The room was silent-

Wait.

The room was silent.

Oh, god, the room was silent.

It was gone. Your thoughts were your own again, yet it still felt as if a piece of you had been snapped off. Broken off. Crumbled away over time, yet - yet... how long had you been out? Hours? A day? You couldn’t completely recall. You remembered someone asking you the date, the time, the anything, but... it slipped your mind far too quickly as a thousand other questions followed suit. You squinted at the whiteboard on the wall across from you, stamped into the corner, and red dry-erase marker spelling out the date.

Barely two days. That was good. You were... you were fine. You were okay. This was okay. Two days was okay. Two days was much less than what Rich dealt with-

Oh. Fuck, Rich - had he woken up? He must still be in the hospital - was - were you in the same one? Fuck, you felt foggier than ever. Like the pieces wouldn’t connect, yet lined up perfectly. Every little bit of pressure merely popped the piece apart again, and it left nothing but frustration to fill the space between. You’d have to see him as soon as you could.

The first person who came to see you (not quite counting your parents) was Christine Canigula with a pretty bouquet of sunflowers in her arms. Her purse bounced against her hip with every step around the room (mainly due to her trying to find a nice place to set the flowers down), and she finally gently sat at the end of your bed and talked to you happily about everything that had gone on within the past few days. She opened her bag, fishing out a small little bag of assorted goodies that she placed in your hands.

“I thought you could use something nice,” she smiled, “I hope you get out of here soon.” When you couldn’t muster up anything past a weak smile, she continued, “Rich actually asked about you, when I saw him earlier.”

You looked up. “He did?” You asked, voice quiet and broken.

“Yeah!” She chirped, “he woke up the other day, actually,” she drummed her fingers against her leg, “

The second was Michael. Michael, who had a ball of emotions choking him as he searched for the right thing to say to you. Worried and angry and upset and... relieved. All of it evaporated as you told him everything. Every detail, every action explained - and he realized what lied beyond the glimpse you’d given him while you looked as if you were trying to escape his house. He sat on the edge of your bed in stunned silence, just staring at the floor as you felt guilt creep into your stomach.

“Michael?” You finally said, voice quiet. “I’m... I’m sorry.” You paused, “for everything. You - you don’t have to forgive me, but...”

“You used me.” He said. You could hear the underlying anger dripping from those three words alone.

“I know.” You swallowed your emotions. “I’m... I know it was awful and I should have fought more to not do that, but...”

He finally looked back at you. “So,uh... how much of that was real, then?”

You opened your mouth to answer, only to stop for a moment, looking away. “I... I don’t really know,” you said, voice cracking and giving you away entirely. “Shit.”

“I mean-” He said, “you were - it was weird, [y/n]. One minute you’d be one way, and then... you were, y’know, you. It was like things never changed.”

That hit you hard. “Michael?” You choked out his name, before continuing, “please don’t tell Jeremy.”

“What?” He stared at you, “[y/n], he deserves to know-”

“No! I mean - he does,” you clarified, “I just - I need to tell him this myself.”

He bit his tongue for a moment. “I, uh, I think I’m gonna have to tell him some things before he loses his shit, [y/n]. He was fuckin’ freaked when the ambulance drove off.”

After a moment of stunned quiet, you mustered up a quick nod. “Right. Just - don’t tell him everything, alright?”

The conversation had died there. After a few more minutes of silence, Michael stood and made his way to leave - rattling off the usual “get well soon” message that you expected.

“Michael?” You called out, and he stopped. “Thank you for coming to see me. I... I appreciate it.”

His smile had faded, and he nodded a little. “Yeah...” He looked back at you, and he looked so soft and genuine that time. “Later, [y/n].”

The next day, Jeremy was shoved into your room without much of a chance to gather his bearings. True to his word, Michael had explained a few things while leaving Jeremy pretty in the dark on what had happened. The hardest thing was looking at Jeremy and telling him the rest of your story. That you had wasted six hundred dollars on a stupid, shitty pill that you thought would help you. A pill that you thought would help you essentially get Jeremy to reciprocate the feelings that you bit back and hid underneath everything. You lied through your teeth that you had just wanted him and Michael back. You couldn’t just... admit that you had a crush on him, could you?

He reached out and laid a hand on your own. “Michael told me.”

Shit. Fuck. Nope. You nearly hit the button for a nurse in that moment to try and see if you could get him out. What the fuck, Michael? “He told you...?”

“Look,” he said, “I’m flattered, [y/n], I just... I like someone else. I mean, you’re - you’re cool and all, but-”

“I get it, Jeremy.” You said. “I... I understand.” You paused for a moment, “but... I did miss you and Michael, y’know.”

“Why’d we stop hanging out?” Jeremy asked.

Something inside of you hurt at that question. “I don’t know.” And that was true, to say the least. You had your suspicions, sure, but at the end of the day, the why rested without an answer.

He stared at you. “Wait...” He trailed off, before looking away. “Oh.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “shit.” He looked back at you, “hey, uh, I’m - I’m sorry for dropping you like that- I just-”

“I get it.” Which was sort-of the truth, at least. “You don’t have to apologize, Jeremy.”

“... Okay,” he said after a moment, “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in school,” he stood, “feel better soon-”

And then he was gone.

Three months later, and you were still haunted by a voice in your head every so often. You started therapy shortly after you were released from the hospital, the mystery of what happened to you remaining as such. You started medication soon after, your depression having grown worse post-SQUIP (and your father had been glad for you getting help, since he’d admitted it hurt him to watch you suffer for so long while being unsure of what to actually do to help you). You attended group therapy outside of Metuchen.

You had Rich. Rich, who picked you up on Thursday nights to drive you to group and back again. Rich, who knew how you felt and hid his guilt for pulling you into this shitty world of trauma and pain that’d haunt you for who knows how long. Rich, who slung his arm around your waist casually when the two of you were hanging out and was touchy with you in a way that made you feel safe and secure. You had Rich at your side, the friend that you honestly had never expected to have but were glad for at the end of the day. While you wished he didn’t feel the pain that you did, it was almost... nice to know that someone else understood.

At two in the morning, one mid-February day, he called you.

“Another nightmare?”

“Yeah... you?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Yep,” he dragged the word out. “Uh - do you...?”

“You go first, Rich.”

His phone must have been on speaker, because you heard the sound of him shifting in bed - blanket swooshing as he probably turned over onto his side. “Same old shit.” He began, “I, uh, was in Jake’s house, and... it was on fire. My, uh... It was there.” He paused for a moment, “y’know. Saying the same shit.” You didn’t have to see Rich to know he was touching his neck, fingers running along the scars there. “What about you?”

Your phone was lying beside your head. Shutting your eyes, you took a breath before exhaling slowly. “It was, uh, actually... good for once. I mean - it started good. I was... I was with Jeremy. I... think we were dating? I don’t know - we were holding hands and I had let go and walked ahead only to notice he was standing still, and - it... it’s weird, Rich, but - I swear there was some kind of stupid circuit pattern that, like, trailed down his neck - and... and his smile, Rich-” You paused, taking a shaky breath, “and then I heard it.” Another long pause. “Then I woke up.”

You heard Rich suck in a breath. For the longest time, there was silence on the other end. Despite not hearing any chimes to indicate it, you thought that maybe he had hung up. But then he spoke, voice quiet and broken, “why did you say yes?”

“What?”

“To - to buying it, [y/n].”

You stared up at your ceiling. Soon enough, you kicked off your blankets as you grew too hot for comfort, shifting against to try and find some sort of comfortable position. “You sold it pretty well, I guess.” You started, before biting your lip for a moment, “I thought it could help me.”

“... With?”

You changed the topic. “Why’d you take it?”

No response.

“Rich?”

“Gretch is gonna fucking suck tomorrow.”

“... Yeah.”

“You wanna skip?”

No, you wanted to say. But you shrugged. “Yeah. Where are we doing?”

“Fuck, I don’t know - Wawa?”

“Sure.”

Rich’s truck was like a second home to you, between the times the two of you skipped classes and every drive to and from therapy. The two of you skipped class too often - sometimes morning classes, sometimes afternoon, it always depended on how the two of you were doing. Sometimes you’d sit in the Wawa parking lot, eating breakfast or lunch, enjoying the rebellious freedom that came with skipping class. The guilt would stay in the backseat, a constant reminder of your fuck-ups, but... you were glad to have a moment to breathe.

Rich’s hand found yours that morning. He squeezed it. For a minute, there were just two broken teens sitting together, holding hands, trying to feel less broken together.

Over a week later, you texted Rich after hearing it - or, at least, you thought you did. He told you to call Michael - closer to you, and carrier of the Mountain Dew Red at you and Rich’s mutual request. Your finger lingered over Michael’s contact information when a thought struck you, hard and heavy. Why call him? Why not let it come back and fix what it had done? You felt broken enough - how much more damage could it do to you? Besides... now you knew how to take care of it. Maybe that knowledge would be enough to help you gain some sort of control over it.

An hour later, Rich texted you saying Michael hadn’t heard from you. Another hour passed. He told you he was coming over. You couldn’t respond, staring at your phone blankly as tears began to well up. Thirty minutes later, rocks hit your window. Five minutes later, Rich was sitting on the end of your bed as you curled back up, the bottle sitting on the bed between the two of you. He looked tired, running a hand nervously through his hair as he didn’t meet your eyes.

“I know.” He said, breaking the silence. “Just - don’t fucking do it, okay?”

You broke your gaze away from the bottle. “What?”

“I... I’ve thought about it too,” he said, quieter this time. “But... I think...” He paused, “it’s just a bad idea, alright?”

“It can’t-”

“It can.” He stressed, before grabbing the bottle with one hand and your hand in the other. He pressed the bottle into your hand, curling your fingers around it in a cliche action. “Just - fucking drink it, [y/n]. I’m tired.”

“You can stay here tonight.”

“Nah,” he stood. “I... need to get home soon. Just... drink it, alright?”

He didn’t leave you until you finally obliged.

The chill in the air that came with early March was no match for the chill you felt whenever you were around Michael. But Michael had the soda, and Rich lived farther away from you, so he became your lifeline whenever you felt the prickly feeling that came with every nightmare of it and he, thankfully without much complaint, would show up on your front lawn. You sat next to him in silence, an half-empty bottle of Mountain Dew Red sitting in your lap as Michael quietly looked up at the stars. The feeling in your stomach almost seemed to weigh you down, keeping you in place until Michael decided he’d had enough, until he gave up on sitting with you.

But he didn’t. He just sat there in silence, wearing his signature red hoodie in an attempt to keep himself warm. His breath colored the air with a puff of white as he exhaled. It was too cold for this shit, and yet... he sat with you.

“What was it like?” He began at one point, slowly looking over to you. “Y’know... the...” He paused, before tapping his temple, as if you hadn’t understood before. But you understood the why there.

“Like I was a puppet,” you said, echoing back something you’d said before in therapy. Almost completely subconsciously, you tugged at your sleeve. “I... I could disobey, but... it would get mad, and - and I didn’t like that, so I just... I did what it told me to. Sometimes, it would...” The ghost of a shock silenced you, and your breath hitched for a second as you try to regain some control over yourself.

When Michael’s hand landed on your forearm, you flinched immediately. But before he could fully tear his hand away from you (having only just pulled it away slightly), you immediately shifted closer to him. Almost as if he understood, he opened himself to you, and - after hesitating for too many moments - you nearly collapsed into his arms, wrapping your own around his torso and burying your face in his neck. At first you had just wanted the comfort. The warmth of another person. But your breath went shaky, and before Michael could say or do anything else, he heard you choke back a sob before you clutched at the fabric of his hoodie. Every soft, broken apology sent pain rippling through him. He’d been so pissed with you before, and now...

Now it was as if Michael was a child again, having seen the aftermath of hurricanes through Florida on the news. Or like the car accident he once witnessed, only staring before one of his moms tore him away from the sight, picking him up with ease and keeping his face turned away. He understood, all within that moment. He knew you were hurting, and in turn, he felt that pain too. He had hurt. He was in so much damn pain when he found out you’d originally just been using him, and now... he understood that maybe (or, perhaps, definitely, but a definite wasn’t quite there yet in his book) nothing had been your idea. Part of him wanted to look away from you, to give you some kind of privacy, and yet... you clung to him. You kept your face buried in his neck, hot tears wetting his skin, and you shook in his arms as you kept stammering out apology after apology for things that did and didn’t involve him.

That was when Michael decided that forgiveness was back on the table. Neither of you were ready to have that talk, but... the fact of the matter was that he let that option exist again. Every glimpse of you that had come flooding back to him when he visited you in the hospital seemed to haunt his memory once more. The real you. The you he hadn’t seen in so long. And, if he were honest, the you that he genuinely had begun to miss when your presence disappeared all that time ago.

He was ready to try again, if you were there to meet him halfway.

The following Wednesday came with a disgusting feeling of dread the moment that thunder clapped during your last class. You’d left your umbrella at home - clear skies, your weather app had lied - and chances were you were going to miss your bus when meeting with the guidance counselor quickly after school (because, of course, shit never worked out in your favor). So you clenched your jaw and pulled your bag close to you, taking off as the rain pounded against the pavement. You almost slipped, you could barely see through the rain, and you were already soaked to the bone by the time you were a fourth of the way home. When you heard a car coming down the street, you thought nothing of it until it slowed down, pulling over towards the side of the road and steadily crawling alongside you.

Well, fuck, if you were about to die, at least you wouldn’t deal with-

The car honked. When you turned, you immediately recognized the P.T. Cruiser and the two boys inside of it. Immediately, the passenger side window rolled down. “Get in, loser, we’re going shopping-”

“Michael-” You started to say, only to stop as you weigh your options. Get in the car and face Michael and Jeremy - or keep waking home in the rain. You barely even considered the latter as you pulled open the back door, throwing your bag in and immediately slipping into the warm car.

The backseat was comfortable. It had always been comfortable, actually - that much was certain. Even when you were shivering endlessly, sopping-wet backpack lying in the floorboard between your legs as you rub your arms in some attempt to get warm, you felt strangely at home sitting in the back of Michael’s car. The sticker was still on the head-rest of the driver’s side. Jeremy kept looking back at you every so often as Michael made his way towards your house. The moment he turned onto your street, you went for your keys.

And, of fucking course, you must have forgotten them that morning. So you ended up in Michael’s house, sitting on his bed in some of his spare clothes while your clothes are being oh-so-lovingly laundered by the ever-so-gracious Michael Mell. You toyed with the fabric of tee-shirt you were wearing, some indie band logo printed across the chest - something that felt so Michael, when you thought about it. Of course he’d have some obscure merch. You sat there with one of your class binders in your lap, working on homework when you finally get to geometry. As if to make the day even worse, you realized you were missing your calculator.

“Shit,” you said, “fuck-” You looked up to Michael and Jeremy, “can I, uh, borrow a calculator? I think I left mine at school-”

Jeremy stared at you for a split second before immediately going for his own bag. He stammered through a sentence, before he finally pulled out a familiar purple case and held it out to you. “I, uh, was going to give it to you tomorrow - I meant to give it back earlier but I, uh, forgot-”

You took it gingerly from him, before kind-of smiling in return. “It’s fine,” you said, “thank you-” and then you cut yourself off with a sneeze, your arm flying to cover your mouth.

Michael chuckled a little as he laid back, stretching himself along the foot of his bed. “If you needed a ride, you should have just asked, ya goof,” he smiled at you.

You nudged him with your foot. “Come on, Mell,” you said, “I thought I’d be fine.”

“You’re lucky Jeremy saw you, y’know,” he said, “I didn’t notice you crossing the street earlier, so...”

Jeremy flushed at the comment. Your gaze flickered from him back to Michael, “I thought you were driving, Michael.”

“I was!”

“Aren’t you supposed to pay attention?”

“I was!” He said again, sitting up, “you weren’t even crossing in front of me!”

“Thank god for that,” you said.

“Wh- I wouldn’t hit you!”

“That’s what they all say, Michael.” You smiled a little, “no, dude, I totally wouldn’t kill my wife, who would do that? Not me. I wouldn’t kill my wife-”

“[y/n]!” Michael poked you in the leg, “come on - I don’t think I’d be that obvious-”

“Are you seriously trying to say you’d be able to get away with that?” You said, only to notice how silent Jeremy had gone. When you looked back to him, you noticed that he had just sat there, watching you and Michael playfully bicker over his totally not real plans to murder someone. When your eyes meet his, he blinked, awkwardly smiling as he looked away and towards his phone. You barely get a glimpse of the time before you realized that your parents should be home.

So Michael drove you (and Jeremy) home at long last, leaving you to thank him a thousand times on the way there and as you got out of the car. You barely had time to wave back at him before you crossed your front lawn to get to shelter, rain pelting you the entire time as you head inside with plans to tackle your homework.

The next morning, you felt like shit. At three in the morning, you woke up with the grossest feeling taking hold of you and forcing you out of bed and to the bathroom. With a disgusting taste left in your mouth, you sank back, your senses completely muffled as you realized what had happened. Fever. Fuck. You pressed your back against the rim of the bathtub, and you breathed. Shit. Shit shit shit shit- you didn’t need to get sick. You skipped enough class as it was - this was only going to make shit worse.

You didn’t realize you passed out shortly after until your dad stumbled across you. He woke you up gently, before helping you to your feet and helping your sluggish form back to your bedroom after pressing a cold hand against your forehead. Shaking his head, he walked you to your bed, leaving the room and returning with a cup of water to leave on your nightstand. He told you that he would be at work, but that your mom would drop by during her lunch break to check on you and hopefully bring some medicine. You barely processed it before you fell back asleep.

The next time you woke up was around lunchtime. You still felt hazy and hot with fever, but the sound of your phone going off was enough to capture your attention. Michael. He had asked where you were, and you barely have enough energy to type out what you thought was just a simple “fever” - thankfully, auto-correct caught you - before you turned back over with the intent of going back to sleep. Barely ten minutes pass before your mom came in with a plastic bag in her hands, rattling off the contents of it before she felt your forehead. She told you to get some more rest. You happily obliged.

The next day, after a night of bland soup and forcing down your meds with ice cold water, you see a newly formed group chat with you, Michael, and Jeremy, poised proudly at the top of your messages.

Michael: u guys need anything or

You stared at the message. You guys? You barely have time to try and question it further when a text bubble popped up.

Jeremy: i’m good

You: what

You: you ok, jer?

Jeremy: no im sick

You: what

You: how???

Jeremy: you

Michael: jeremys being a little bitch

Michael: hes always like this when he’s sick

Michael: you need anything, [y/n]??

You: idk some good soup would be rad

You: my dad brought some gross shit last night and it sucked

You: parents got medicine.

You: send me love.

You: and tissues

Jeremy: please let me sleep

You: sorry jer

Michael: kk

Later that afternoon, the doorbell rang. You forced yourself out of bed, managing to get the front door open only to see a little plastic bag sitting right outside of it. You looked up to see Michael standing outside of his car, and you could only assume that he rushed back to his car to avoid exposure. He waved at you, only budging from his spot when you wave back at him.

Bless Michael Mell and the soup he brought you. You’d have to thank his mom. Or maybe both of them - they were both goddesses in your eyes. You only knew that Michael couldn’t cook for shit.

At midnight, you woke up again, a dull hunger restless in your stomach. You had left some soup for later, and you were fully ready to heat the rest of it up and devour it. You shoved the Tupperware bowl into the microwave, punching in a number before you swayed into the counter, leaning against it to keep yourself standing as the microwave buzzed. Strangely enough... it almost felt internal after a minute.

Then you heard it. Your own name being cooed in a voice that sent shivers and a ghost of a shock through you. Glitching in and out. You panicked. You bolted, dashing to your room to find your phone. Your hands were shaking as you went to unlock it, fucking it up the first two times before finally getting it the last. You didn’t think. You went for the first number you saw.

The moment someone picked up, you spoke. “Michael,” you said, voice caught in your throat, “shit - dude- it’s - it’s back-” You took a breath, trying to calm yourself before continuing, “just - I need the Mountain Dew Red. Please-”

You heard a distant, groggy “...what?” on the other hand as a hand fell over your own, causing you to slowly lower the phone as it appeared before you.

It stood tall as ever, eyes gentle, manipulating your senses as you swore you felt warmth from it’s hand over your’s. “We can fix this.” It said, voice quiet. Soft. Gentle. “We can start over and make everything right.”

“I...” You whimpered, attempting to take a step back. Instinctively, you dropped your phone and shut your eyes and covered your ears in an attempt to drown everything out. “No.” The word spilled past your lips once, twice, too many times as tears rolled down your cheeks.

Fingers grazed your cheek almost lovingly. “Just let me fix this, [y/n].” It said softly, almost kind, and you felt your stomach drop. “You can reboot me - just - another dose of regular Mountain Dew-”

“No,” you shook your head, “I’m - you’d-”

“I’ll fix this. I promise-”

The sound of frantic knocking at your front door was enough to force you to your feet as you rushed to answer before anyone else could wake up. “Michael-”

Jeremy stood there, soaking wet and panting like crazy as he clutched a bottle of salvation within his right hand. He straightened up a bit, holding it out to you. “Sorry - Michael, uh, gave me a few bottles as back-up so I ran-” He said.

He shut up the moment you flung your arms around him, burying your face in his chest, completely ignoring the soda he carried in favor of comfort. Just for a second. That’s all you had needed. He stiffened up underneath you as you clung to him, only for you to pull away almost immediately after.

After you took the bottle and unscrewed the cap, downing the drink with nothing with a minor headache following in it’s wake, Jeremy could only stare at you. “You... You really heard it, huh?”

You winced, breath hitching as you swayed slightly. Jeremy’s hands found your shoulders, steadying you as you looked back up at him. “I-” You started, only to stop immediately, “thank you- I’m- I’m sorry you had to run here.” You paused, “I... didn’t know it was raining, or I wouldn’t have-”

“It’s fine,” he said, letting go of you as he took a small step back. “I’m - I’m gonna head back home-”

Thunder clapped. Lightning flashed in the distance. You reached out and caught him by the wrist, “stay here.” You said, “it’s - it’s late, and... and I don’t want you walking home in the rain.”

He almost debated with you, but another growl of thunder was enough to debunk whatever argument he was formulating as he followed you inside. You locked your front door back, retreated back to your room to find some clean clothes that would hopefully fit him (thank fuck for all your baggy shit, still hidden away in your closet), and handed him a towel. The microwave chirped for what you could assume was the thousandth time, and you rushed to stop it - only to have to punch in more time. You could hear the shower running from the room over. The hum of the microwave, the smell of spices tinting the air... and you felt alive. You were there. Breathing. Heart pumping. Mind... going, at least - even if there were moments of betrayal there. You were still there, and it was strange to think about that sometimes.

The water shut off abruptly, and you pulled yourself from your thoughts as you stopped the microwave just a second before it was meant to go off. As you seated yourself at the kitchen table, Jeremy emerged and made his way over to you. He pulled out the chair nearest to you, and slowly sank into it.

“You feeling better?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I, uh, I should be asking you that.”

“You were sick too, Jeremy,” you said, “why’d you run here?”

“You sounded scared,” he shrugged, “besides - I’m better-” Immediately he was cut off by a cacophony of coughs, as he turned away from you. “I’m fine. What about-” He finally looked back at you, still embarrassed of the shades of red he’d turned, “what about you?”

You suppressed a smile. “I’m... decent.” You shrugged, “I’ve... never really seen it before tonight.”

“You haven’t?”

“Nope.” You paused, “I dunno. Maybe being sick like... weakened me or something.” After another pause, you noticed Jeremy shiver. “You can take my room, Jer. It’s warmer - I’ll just - I’ll take the couch-”

“It’s fine, [y/n] - I’ll just - I’ll sleep on the floor-”

“You are not sleeping on the floor, Jeremiah,” you feigned offense, “you are a guest! You’ll take my room and I’ll sleep on the floor-”

“You’re still sick too, y’know,” he retorted, “just - I’ll take one side of the bed if you want-”

“Fine.” You frowned as you stood, “if you insist.”

After leaving the bowl in the sink, filled with water in the classic “it has to soak” manner, you lead Jeremy to your bedroom. You snagged your phone from the floor, plugging it back into charge as you took one side of your bed - making sure to stay as close to the edge as possible while Jeremy took the other. The room was almost silent, the sound of Jeremy breathing quiet enough to merely tint the air.

Right as you started to fall asleep, you turned onto your back. “Jeremy?” You said, stifled by a yawn. When he hummed in acknowledgement, you continued, “thanks for coming here.”

You barely caught his soft, almost hesitant “yeah, uh, no problem” as you fell asleep.

#mj's writing corner #be more chill x reader #be more chill reader insert #bmc reader insert #bmc imagine #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine

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