#I'm not quite sure how to even tag this if I even HAVE a specific tag for this

[miz-orque]

Long Post

Sooo here's my silly little Monsoon concept in the Cyberpunk universe. This took some time, but I had a lot of fun doing it. You'll find a few things repeated on paper as my thought process was a little all over the place. The notes and layout on the pages may be a little unorganised. What's written on paper is reflected in the text, plus extra.

Yeah, this is longer than I thought lol so it's really appreciated if you do take the time to read it. I think I went a little ham 👀;

Apologies for image quality. I still have yet to get a scanner.

Cyberpunk!Monsoon.

General info

Typically, I would fashion him in: an Edgerunner's jacket (which is generally a mix of military armour and pedestrian materials woven together (this jacket is the Valentinos dual-weave Edgerunner)), simple black yoros and yoru no samurai kicks - the last two items being reminiscent of his ninja design in his canon universe. His utility belt and sais are also kept the same, tho the end of the sai's pommel glows when in use for combat.

He has a multitude of implants and cybernetics which include:

Memory boost - optimises sync between the brain and cyberware. An additional neuro chip implanted in his frontal lobe allows him full control of his unique cybernetic arms, including detaching and reattaching his arms, and control of his hands if they are several metres away when detached.

Self-ice - prevents him from getting a neuro virus.

Kerenzikov boost system - essentially a reflex booster

Custom Kiroshi optics: the Oracle (more details of this later)

(outdated) magnetic segmented cybernetic arms where each segment has a neuro link for full control (more details of this later)

Second heart - if his current heart stops beating, the second one activates.

Adrenal boosters - helps body maintain performance under pressure (in game stats detail less stamina usage when engaging in melee)

Micro rotors - increases attack speed

Adreno-trigger - increases attack speed for several seconds whe entering combat

Synaptic accelerator - a neuroprocessor that regulates hormonal balance during threatening situations (in game time is perceived slower for a few seconds when in combat. This implant can be used repeatedly after a 60 second cool down, but he's not looking to have a fight for longer than a minute)

Sub-dermal armour - exactly as it sounds - armour beneath the skin. He has this installed on his neck, torso, back and legs (before they were replaced)

Proxi-shield - the closer an attacking enemy is, the less damage they deal

Bionic joints (eventually replaced) - support of joints. He had this in his legs.

Dense marrow (eventually replaced) - increased power behind melee attacks. He had this in his legs

Dermal implant of a Tyger Claw tattoo - This implant directly links the user's optical implant to the weapon's system, offering real-time data-tracking of the weapon info - he only has this because he was a member of Tyger Claws for a few years, but he decided to keep it as he found it useful and for sentimental reasons

Fortified ankles (eventually replaced) - allows for greater distance covered when jumping

Iron lungs - is able to take in and utilise more oxygen. This was useful when he had his organic legs. This cybernetic has become rather redundant to him now that he's more metal than meat, tho he finds it useful for when he's smoking, he doesn't cough, however they're due for a cleaning from his habit.

Blood pump - supplies body's cells quickly and efficiently with oxygen - again no longer required. He eventually gets this removed

Further info

In this canon, Monsoon has albinism. His original eyes were replaced at a young age due to his poor vision and he received dermal implants to protect his sensitive skin from UV radiation.

Originally, his cyber optics were designed after his real eyes. These were standard optics that allowed him to see as the average person. The eyes were later replaced with Kiroshi the Oracle optics when he was recognised as a competent attack dog. These new eyes, however, were again based on his real eyes. He did not obtain his custom black and red optics until he joined Tyger Claws

The Oracle line allows the user to detect enemies (even under cover) within 17 m, turrets and cameras within 35 m and explosives and traps within 26 m, as well as 10x optical zoom in. He later got these functions upgraded when he opted to change their appearance. They were eye wateringly expensive.

The cyber threading on his face (the lines) are based on the veins surrounding his eyes in his original MGR concept art.

Likewise, the barcode on his forehead from his original concept, has been repurposed as evidence of being an unfortunate victim of human trafficking. Human trafficking exists across the globe in the Cyberpunk (CP) universe. The barcode that was tattooed on his forehead as a child was produced for the underground market to audit their stock. These markets are also owned by corporations who donate some of the profit made to charities (to look good to the general public), to law makers (for manipulation) and to crime syndicates (as pay).

As previously stated, Monsoon obtained custom black and red Kiroshi optics when he joined Tyger Claws. He thought they looked intimidating and cool. He was 15. And he still stands by this decision in his 40s. The black and red are also based on his MGR concept art.

For the record, Monsoon's unique eyes and visor in his original MGR concept design are some of my favourite things about him. Respectfully, these were omitted as I felt they didn't completely suit the environment I placed him in for this au. Sure, visors exist in CP, and of course there are characters like the Maelstrom group and even River (2077) that have robust optics, however:

Monsoon in this canon doesn't work as a corpo cyborg based in Denver with henchborgs under him; he is the henchborg and he's really fucking good at it

His visor holds his electromagnetic generator. In this canon, he doesn't have the ability to separate his entire body, just his arms. It would be redundant for him to have it unless he wears it for the aesthetics. I'm on team Practical Monsoon here so...

Maelstrom essentially believe in transhumanism. Monsoon does not believe in this (him becoming a cyborg in MGR is a consequence of him not wanting to die) and the glowing eyes would give his position away if he's being stealthy.

I think River's too broke to get a better looking eye lol. Monsoon may not be rolling in it, but at least he can afford eyes that provide wider perioral vision and allows him to blink his eyelids.

I just wanted to show off the emotions in his eyes. Can't do that if he's looking like: ⚫👃⚫ "I luv u"

I've designed him bulbous eyeball connecting visors that help increase his field of vision to act as his CP au visor. (A little on the fence with this)

Regarding his arms, their design is outdated. Further information will be provided later in the post, tho I thought I'd keep this here as this was used as reference for myself.

Ken doll Mons and his bs (backstory obvs)

Born in 2031 in Cambodia, Monsoon grew up in poverty. He was abducted as a young child and sold in the black market to an organised crime syndicate. Originally, he was going to be used as an actor for the growing extreme braindance (XBD) market, however, due to his aggressive and tenacious nature, he was taken to be trained as an attack dog instead.

Mention of a several years' mission is present, but this will be touched upon later. The two images are of Monsoon before and after this mission.

Pre-mission:

Most of his body is organic, tho he has a number of internal implants (as mentioned previously)

As stated, unlike his original canon design, the additional segments are omitted. Due to CP lore, and considering Monsoon's upbringing, he would have succumb to cyberpsychosis ages ago (would have gone on a spree like James Norris in Edgerunners). A super bog standard definition of cyberpsychos is a condition where the person dissociates from society when they have too many implants and not a great support system (if they even have one). (It's a theory that David's support system is the reason why his tolerance for something as extreme as his sandevistan was high). If the chassis was kept, I would have had to abide by this rule; Monsoon at this point would have been a slender version of Adam Smasher. (Not a bad idea, but that's literally what he is in MGR but with MG lore in place). Omitting his chassis meant that there was more freedom to explore the world of CP with Monsoon. Also I wanted to see him in sneakers.

Also, his design wouldn't suit the Night City (NC) environment. In his original canon, he's the only WoD member that isn't wearing a coat. In NC, he would need to be naked to fully utilise his abilities. Not to mention, the city itself being so busy, I feel as if his magnetism would cause some damage to certain technology, if his segments don't catch onto a vehicle or a building or a fellow cyborg's butt. If anything, reference of his original design (torso and legs) would be for cosmetic purposes.

Post-mission:

He lost his pelvis and legs during the mission

As he was out in the desert at the time of this incident, his legs were replaced with robust mechanical legs provided by a nomad ripperdoc.

His legs were later replaced with a sleeker and more modern design. He also got that Mr Studd installed 😉

His cyber legs also include reinforced tendons (can literally double jump/jump great heights), Jenkin's tendons (accelerates sprinting for a few seconds - recovery time is just as quick when he's not sprinting), fortified ankles (jump great distances) and lynx paws (quiet footsteps). These are to mimic some of the attributes he has in his original canon.

His cyber arms are eventually replaced with an upgraded and custom pair.

He has cyberpsychosis. Treatment includes therapy, medication and being around his support system regularly. Of course, due to the nature of his work, slaughter does help relieve the aggression he gets from his psychosis.

After being sold to an organised crime syndicate to become an XBD actor, his aggressive nature had them think he would be better suited as a protector. He was repurposed to become an attack dog. For fun, he was given a pair of sais to train with, tho his mentor was compassionate enough to train him well. Tho he was born in Cambodia and spent his early childhood there, he was migrated to Japan after being sold. He spent the rest of his childhood serving the Yakuza as their favoured attack dog. From 15, he was stationed at Night City, being a body guard for a high ranking Yakuza member, but he decided to join Tyger Claws instead.

Additional notes:

The crime syndicates involved are primarily a mix of Triad and Yakuza members, smaller groups and groups outside of Asia are also involved, taking advantage of the state of Cambodia (it's not great). Particular corps are also involved and it's rumoured the Khmer Rouge may also be poking their noses into this black market (they exist in the CP universe. Like in our real world history, they did have their influence, however they were expelled from Cambodia and ended up ruling over Laos in the turn of the 21st century) in hind sight, Monsoon was pretty lucky

He was sold at the age of five.

The XBD market involves things like murder, torture, sexual assault - basically any instance that involves very extreme negative emotions (and is obvs very illegal). Monsoon would have likely been put up for murder and maybe even have cyberpsychosis induced on him

The Yakuza viewed Monsoon as disposable, but thought to have him at least trained in fighting. When his teacher taught him how to use the sai (which he picked up quickly), the members he often interacted with saw his potential. On the field, Monsoon was aggressive.

He was named Monsoon because he was purchased during the season. The name stuck because of his extreme behaviours: eerily calm when he's not in a fight, frightfully violent when he is.

His first implant were his eyes. The following cybernetics were implanted on him without his knowledge ie he woke up one day with his hand replaced with a cybernetic one lol. He freaked

When he arrived in Night City, he offed the Yakuza member he was meant to protect and joined Tyger Claws swiftly after. It was rumoured that this particular was to be disposed of once a negotiation with affiliate groups was made. Monsoon didn't care and killed him anyway. He's never forgiven them for what they did to him.

Because of his upbringing, he speaks Japanese fluently. Being the favoured attack dog, he wasn't required to learn any additional languages, especially with the advent of the translator, however, he did take up learning English when he learned he was going to visit California for an unknown amount of time. Much to his chagrin of learning the common conversational sentences English, when he arrived at Night City, particularly Japantown, he was disappointed that everyone around him was speaking Japanese. That didn't stop him from actively learning tho. Unfortunately, he doesn't remember much Khmer if at all.

The crummy tattoo dermal implant on his back depicts Reahu, the demon king in Cambodian mythology. It's described to be a head without a body and devours the sun and moon, but because of its lack of body (and therefore stomach), it's a perpetual cycle of devouring these celestial bodies.

His stoic and serious nature proved him to be a valuable member to the Tyger Claw gang, getting some recognition from high ranking members, including a glance or two from the up-and-coming fixer, Wakako Okada. He was given a few private jobs, one of which awarded him his extraordinarily unique magnetic arms at around the age of 18. Tho his peers didn't care for the attention he received, a small group of Tyger Claws grew jealous of him, even denouncing him as a member for being an outsider.

During a mission out, the small group turned on him, disabling his arms and taking advantage of his shock. He did defend himself to the best of his abilities, however, he was outnumbered and beaten to near death. Before completely blacking out, he called Wakako.

Once recovered and his arms repaired, he left Tyger Claws and sought vengeance on those that tried to kill him. No longer a member, he happily attacks any member that so much as looks at him funny.

Additional notes:

His position in the gang would have been pretty much the same in his original canon. He did participate in some drug dealing and trafficking, however he enjoyed fighting the most.

He was out cold for a couple days when he was picked up by Wakako and taken care of by a doctor of her choosing

Monsoon was growing tired of the gang anyway and thought he would be successful if he left. The group that attacked him provided him a really good reason to leave

He wanted to remove the Tyger Claws tattoo on his back, but decided against it as he gave it a new meaning: continuously devouring the clan

It's an exaggeration to say that he attacks any TC member if they look at him funny. He attacks them if they touch him in any way, shape or form.

Despite the fact he was a member for about five years, he has never crossed paths with Jimmy. Jimmy was locked away being a cringe teenager editing edgy braindances and wearing black eyeliner.

Ze arms

Gifted his magnetic arms at 18, adapting to fully cybernetic arms was a challenge, especially with the unique ability to desegment at will. Tho they are rumoured to be of Arasaka make, his provider advised it was from an underground yet promising corporation.

Previous arms

Neural connection between brain, arms and segments.

Powerful electromagnetism, however best performed away from the busier parts of Night City

Electromagnetic generator located in shoulder joint.

Silicone connection inside and outside of elbow.

Upper half of arm matches skin tone. Forearms and hands are black (right) and red (left).

Palm and fingertips padded; sensors are quite sensitive

Range began at 10 metres, but increased to 15 when his arms were repaired

New and current arms

Possess the same elements as the previous arms, but with a sleek design

Arms are completely black apart from the left forearm and hand being red.

Generator hidden in shoulder

Fingertips have highly sensitive sensors

Edge of segments glow red when in use (when he gets his magnet on)

Carbon fibre material

Faster movement

Range is about 30 metres max.

Additional notes:

The arms are quite expensive. He has to visit a reputable doctor that is well educated in electromagnetics and whatever the fuck else his arms possess because they're pretty insane

It took him a good month to get used to using fully cybernetic arms and even long to actually master the use of its magnetic abilities. He would say about a year.

The underground corporation used both Arasaka and Militech to craft the arms. Monsoon's unknowingly a guinea pig, however he does eventually meet the people behind these.

Said people provided him with the new arms

He exclusively uses his magnetic abilities in combat. At least, that's what he says. Monsoon has used his abilities to get something out of reach, get something from another room, and trip Jimmy (when he didn't like him) - now he uses them to pull Jimmy towards him

Sundowner

Monsoon became a solo mercenary after he left Tyger Claws. Mainly working with Wakako, he would sometimes do gigs with other solos. More often than not, he would find himself working alongside this heavyweight merc, Sundowner. At first, he found him to be rather loud and obnoxious, but eventually he found him to be a worthy and competent ally to the point he's glad to see him in his group of mercs.

Additional notes:

They met for the first time during a meeting with a fixer at Tom's Diner. Monsoon mistook him for a patron as Sundowner was chowing down on a burger and commenting loudly about the music. He wasn't particularly excited to learn that he would be working alongside him for this mission

They only ever hang out at bars or eating establishments, and the occasional visit to a braindance club.

Okay, maybe sometimes they visit Dogtown for the thrill and chaos

Monsoon's been to Sundowner's humble abode once for bbq. It's in the Badlands

They once infiltrated a Scavs base because Sundowner thought one of them stole his keys to his truck. They killed them all. They did not find his keys because he suddenly remembered where they were kept.

They once got into a random scuffle with Sixth Street

And the Voodoo Boys

And the Valentinos

And the Animals

And Tyger Claws (Monsoon enjoyed that one)

All started by Sundowner.

Sundowner is gun heavy in this universe, only using Bloodlust when he wants to get messy, but keep his hands clean.

Of course, Sundowner has the Gorilla Arms cybernetic that grants him immense strength as well as the Reinforced Tendons implants

Coming from Alabama, Monsoon's not quite familiar with the terms Sundowner uses that isn't Night City lingo. Sometimes he uses his translator which isn't the most reliable due to Sundowner's accent. He did eventually grow accustomed to his way of speaking

Sundowner most definitely did partake in the Corporate War of 2069.

Sun became a fan of Jimmy's unnecessarily violent XBD edits

The above drawings are of them in their twenties

Legs and mission

The mission

At around 25 years old, Monsoon with Sundowner was given a secret gig by their mysterious fixer. Like most gigs, survival was not guaranteed, however, the payout for this gig was huge if they did survive. This gig involved them and a small group of other mercs, techies and netrunners to travel outside Night City across the country. The mission was so secretive, contact outside anything that did not revolve around the mission was forbidden, this meant that kin were left in the dark about the whereabouts of their loved ones.

The gig proved challenging; some members lost their lives. Monsoon almost lost his life being involved in an incident that had him lose the lower half of his body. He carried out the rest of the mission in a set of robust cybernetic legs that included storage for his stoma bags. The difficulty of this mission did solidify and strengthen his friendship with Sundowner.

After the mission, which ended up lasting five years, and of course receiving his massive payout, Monsoon got himself a new set of legs, a built in bladder, rectum and a Mr Studd (with Jimmy's assistance). He also developed cyberpsychosis which is handled by his medication, therapy sessions and time spent with loved ones.

Additional notes:

The payout was six digits

The mission itself was arduous. Flat lining tended to be the bulk of the mission, tho the men would argue it felt like an underground war. Really, it was corpo shit trying to keep governments outside of their business. Infiltration and assassination proved more difficult than initially thought, especially when theft of technologies was involved

Monsoon did find it difficult to not get in contact with the people he cared about during his gig. He obviously worried about Jimmy the most because he's a danger magnet. He forced him to get the Shock-n-Awe implant as a means of defence, but he also told Jimmy not to wait for him.

Monsoon's lower body was crushed by a massive structure that collapsed after a bomb went off.

He often wrapped cloth tightly around his abdomen to keep his storma attachments extra secure. The last time he didn't have that security, he dookied on Sundowner when he tried to parkour. They still laugh about it.

He lost his legs about two years into the mission

His psychosis developed rather quickly when his legs were swiftly replaced with robust cybernetic legs.

He was fully prepared for Jimmy to have moved on. Much to his surprise, he waited for him and started gaining immense success in his work.

He also learned he became a cat dad

Ze legs and pelvis

His replacement legs right after the accident were standard metal robotic legs that helped him get around, tho it hindered his athletic abilities. He was happy to have them finally replaced with a more competent model. These legs include:

Matching skin tone

Sensors included that allows him to detect pressure, temperature changes and pain

A faux butt with padding

A Mr Studd that acts similarly to a natural penis - of course he misses his real one, but he's glad he can pee out of this one and relieve sexual need. Special sensors in the phallus connected to a specific neural link allows him to feel aroused when stimulated and lead to an eventual climax, of course it's not the same as it once was. His sex drive is also quite low.

Faux testes included for aesthetic purposes - they look and feel almost like the real thing! 😃 A TRT device was considered to be included in his pair, but he opted to take injections whenever he wanted to. He doesn't think the lack of testosterone hinders his abilities to carry out his duties as a merc. Before he changed his legs, he wasn't on testosterone regularly.

Reinforced tendons, Jenkin's tendons and Lynx paws installed

Height increased from 6'2" to 6'5" - he had a high calorie and nutritional diet due to being trained as a fighter, however, that isn't to say he didn't receive painful procedures to increase his height to appear more intimidating

Has replacement organs with sensors

Artificial butthole works fine 👍 (don't lie, you were curious)

He takes rather strong immunoblockers

Additional notes:

Jimmy paid for some of the costs. He insisted.

Recovery was relatively quick, tho he had to take the time to get used to his new legs and make sure sensors worked well.

Jimmy's aware of Monsoon's cyberpsychosis. It kinda turns him on. And he loves to admit it.

....yeah Jimmy did select the junk to be Monsoon's replacement sausage

Khamsin

During a few of his gigs, he had Khamsin as his "wheels guy". His chatter and loud music gets on Monsoon's gears, but Sundowner like Khamsin, plus he's an excellent driver. Most of the time, Monsoon zones out when he's around Khamsin, but with enough drinks, he'll chuckle at a joke or two.

Additional notes:

Khamsin's truck looks better than how I drew it. I'm just bad at drawing vehicles

Khammy also has cybernetic legs

Mons doesn't hate him, but he wouldn't invite him to his place

Sometimes he gets taunt ideas from Khamsin

Mistral

Monsoon has been a well established solo when he met the young and snarky woman who goes by Mistral. Tho she's solo, she also dabbles in netrunning, proving her versatility. At first the two didn't get on so well. She taunted him about being an old fogie, and he retorted her about being a naïve and obnoxious little girl with pink hair, even tho their age difference is approximately 15 years.

Sundowner kept wanting her on the team despite the bickering as the group worked well together and he enjoyed her accent. When the group finally did decide to hang out together at a bar, Monsoon and Mistral bonded over their annoyance with Khamsin and their love for Jimmy. As the two got closer, Mistral gifted Monsoon a couple of sakura hair clips she won at a fair. He invited her to his place to see his cat.

Additional notes

Mistral's married to Courtney lol. Courtney's a corpo, but they hardy spend time together due to their work

Mistral's a fan of Jimmy's XBDs.

She's visited their place multiple times and has designated herself as their cat's aunt

Monsoon loves the hair clips, even tho he doesn't express this out loud

She's a gun user - I'm basing this off her time as a soldier, plus I'm not sure where her lance fits in the CP universe. The geckos would be more like her and Courtney's freak children than her tools

Monsoon does not like her freak children

Weirdly, her and Jimmy became good friends. They text each other on a regular basis

She also hangs out with the two if Courtney's busy with work

She playfully throws things at Monsoon. Monsoon draws on her face when she's netrunning

She came to Night City directly from Algeria. She misses the food there

Fighting

Monsoon's fighting style is more or less identical to the original canon moveset, save for his lack of magnetic segmented legs and torso. When he had his natural legs, he utilised reflex implants to boost speeds and force behind his kicks. Now that he has his cybernetic legs, he's even more dangerous in a fight. He has implants that increase his resistance to hacking. His arms can be disassembled by skilled hackers, a hell of a disadvantage if he's using his sais to attack from a distance. He carries a multitude of grenades with him which includes explosives, EMPs and smoke grenades.

Outfit

Monsoon dresses in kitsch style clothing. His wardrobe consists mainly of vests and short sleeves, and perhaps five pairs of bottoms. As he's often doing gig work (and beating up Tyger Claws), he favours no sleeves for their practically and ease of wear. He does own at least a handful of long sleeve shirts, bombers and hoodies which he wears on special occasions, such as when he doesn't want to use his magnetic abilities.

Additional notes

He owns a couple neokitsch style clothing (clothing that only the wealthy can afford) because Jimmy likes to spoil him. He only ever wears them when he's visiting Embers

Jimmy likes stealing his jackets and hoodies.

Monsoon on occasion wears Jimmy's jacket to feel like a villain - Jimmy doesn't take offence to this.

Monsoon wears his clothes until they fall apart. It annoys Jimmy because he knows he can afford new clothes.

He also hates going clothes shopping with Jimmy

Apartment

His apartment is located in Japantown, Westbrook of Night City. He keeps the apartment clean and free of clutter, the only decorations he has are books/magazines and a dragon statue that holds incense (came with the apartment). Eventually, his apartment transformed into a lively little abode when Jimmy entered his life. After becoming accustomed to the company, the apartment now includes horror movie posters, memory chips dotted everywhere, cute little momentos, cans of Spunky Monkey in the fridge, an additional toothbrush, additional clothes in the wardrobe, sex toys and numerous Polaroid photographs of the two.

Additional notes:

Sometimes they use each other's toothbrush by mistake

He has a plethora of plants. He likes nature. Jimmy's a little freaked out by the plants especially when they touch him

He doesn't smoke in the apartment

[omarwolaeth]

It's such a tiny innocuous thing that really doesn't matter, but I feel like calling duel monsters a children's card game (when it's fundamentally baked into everyday life, and your social existence is judged by what you play and how you play it so very intensely, for everyone in-universe) is an absolute injustice to what it is for that universe of people.

[trans-leek-cookie]

vague thought but I feel like we and I mean like. Everyone of us needs to learn to like. Idk self reflect and learn not to be voyeurs... Like this is abt myself as well. Specifically in cases of real life tragedy, like, when do we go from learning abt something to using it to feed a sort of entertainment (in a similar way to a horror movie)? How do we learn to identify when something is excessive? Sure, details can be important, but when do they stop teaching and start just being fuel for a morbid fascination?

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[bratphilia]

overtime (m. schmidt x reader)

request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"

note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary

after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.

you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"

he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."

awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.

you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.

"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."

"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."

both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"

"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."

mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.

"y'know—"

"so, i should really—"

the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."

you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."

he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."

your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."

mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"

before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.

instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.

much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.

"please, what, honey?" he teases.

you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."

mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.

as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.

he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.

"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."

"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.

his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.

mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.

you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."

mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"

you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (04) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 11.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii I'm getting slower with editing and writing so please bear with me moving forward! Also pls remember, this is a slow burn haha. But anyway, been loving your replies (I see you) and messages, thank you. I hope you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

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

The events of last weekend remain in your mind, as you approach Jungkook’s apartment the next Monday and feel like your heart will leap out of your chest. 

You remind yourself that he wasn’t angry at you; he’d even tried to apologize and didn’t make a fuss when you left the restaurant last Saturday. But still, the whole incident would make anyone feel agitated, and you know his capacity to feel and express that. He was inconvenienced and put on the spot, after all. 

You enter, and shortly after, Jungkook exits the gym then greets you with a nod when he sees you. He looks more tired than anything. He doesn’t have a hint of frustration in his eyes, and you could only hope that he’d forgotten about what happened or, like how he is when it comes to personal matters, he’d chosen not to acknowledge it. 

You bow in return, sneaking a glance as he walks towards his bedroom, with your throat drying up when he removes his shirt, briefly gracing you with a view of his glistening toned back right before disappearing inside. You wait half a minute before you follow him to prepare his clothes, giving yourself time to breathe before you have to face him again. You return to the kitchen and prepare his breakfast, looking up when you hear him walk in.

You approach him to do an act that’s become a routine for you, and for him as well, as he stands straight and unmoving while you tighten his tie and make sure he looks fine. Even when your fingers only graze his clothed chest, the memory from last Saturday becomes vivid, as you recall wiping his wine-soaked top, feeling the taut body underneath. 

You shake your head at the thought, realizing that there are more things about that night that you should not acknowledge at all, including the heat you felt at seeing him in the washroom, a little exposed and definitely sweaty. There was that tension and the dropping of formalities that felt too foreign and quite disorienting. You don’t know him as anything other than the ‘Mr. Jeon’ you assist; seeing him as just ‘Jungkook’ was different. But you suppose that that’s the man you help everyday, and you wonder how much of himself he leaves behind in the office and how much of him now is just… him. 

As you go about your routine during breakfast, you’re reminded that for Jungkook, there doesn’t seem to be a difference. How he is at work is the same as how he is elsewhere - serious, quiet, and detached. Except maybe when he’s with those women he meets at clubs, though. Perhaps the thrill and pleasure inject a bit of emotion and passion in him. You wouldn’t know, but at least it’s a way for him to take a break from the responsibilities he carries. 

You scold yourself internally again. You’re not supposed to be curious; you’re not supposed to care. So you shake all of them away and remind yourself of who you are and your own distance that you should observe.

You get to your senses and proceed accordingly. You go about as usual in the morning with his meetings, and then he shuts his office so he could focus in the afternoon. You see his furrowed brows from the window, as he works on what seems to be the Arts Center again, given his requests for financial and marketing reports of the company's non-residential projects from the last five years.  

You’re busy with organizing his Singapore trip and coordinating with the CEO’s office about the upcoming Appointment Dinner to formally introduce the new appointees, when he exits his room and looks through the folders lined on the shelf behind you.

“Where are the portfolios of our collaboration projects from 2017?” He asks. 

“They’re in the archive room,” you answer, standing up to head there. 

But he does it first, beating you to the corner area just off the hallway to the left. Your steps are obviously not at pace with his, and he’s tiptoeing to reach for a large folder by the time you get there. He’s able to retrieve it, laying it on the ledge as he goes through some pages. 

“I could’ve gotten that,” you say softly, and Jungkook turns to you and wishes he hadn’t, as your pout makes his insides melt. 

There’s something about your disappointment that you didn’t get to help him that makes his heart race a little, and while he knows it has everything to do with you thinking that he’d think you’re not doing your job properly, he still likes to keep the thought that you’d wanted to help him in the first place.

“It was heavy,” he explains. 

“I’ve carried and pulled and pushed things way heavier than that folder,” you scoff. 

“Really?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, trying not to show amusement on his face. “My cousin let you do all those things, huh?”

You frown at his attempt to catch you slipping. “I do many things in the background during events, Mr. Jeon, things that get everything functioning properly while Mr. Jung engages with the guests.”

Jungkook can only imagine how much work you put into getting those events hosted by the VP’s office running. Perhaps retrieving heavy folders is no big deal for you. But still, he doesn’t want to come across as a jerk for making you do something he can do on his own. He already was, he reminds himself, and you also definitely think he is;  he doesn’t want to add to that any more, not after everything that’s happened. 

So he just nods. “It’s a simple task I can do.”

Jungkook looks at the labeled boxes and folders. He’s got materials and design points to finalize by tonight. There are some more past projects he wants to go through to take inspiration from, and he finds another one he wants to look at, underestimating its weight, which is why he jerks in surprise when he feels how heavy it really is.

You’re there on cue, as if you knew it was gonna be too much. And if he’d asked you, you probably would’ve told him so. 

You’re standing much closer to him, your fingers grazing against his as you hold onto the folder. It’s almost familiar, only because you stood this close to him that night at the restaurant, too - when you cleaned him up, and then when you handed him his clothes in the washroom. You actually stand this close to him everyday when you fix his tie. Perhaps after all that, it’s only dawning on you just how little space between you two there are sometimes, and you’re suddenly hyper aware - of the distance, of his scent, of the way he’s looking back at you when you turn to look at him. 

“It was heavy,” he admits. 

And for some reason, you laugh. Maybe it’s the slightly embarrassed look on his face or it’s just your defense mechanism when you feel tense but you let out an amused sound, with it fading as the time goes by and you realize you’re actually laughing at your boss. 

“Making fun of me, Ms. Cho?”

“I… I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you stammer, stepping away. 

You’re about to mentally curse yourself until you see his slight smirk, and the thought of him making fun at you by scaring you like that makes you feel better. He may have some sense of humor after all. 

Still, you bow in apology, and there’s a moment when you meet his eyes, with something not anger or frustration in them, that you both linger, as if there are things both of you feel that need to be said; you just don’t know what they are.

“Did the dry cleaners get to remove the wine stains?” You manage to get some words out, turning away now as you bring up last Saturday night. 

“Uh, yeah,” he responds. There’s a pause before he continues. “Did… did you get home okay?”

You’re too stunned to be able to answer right away but you eventually do. “Uh, yeah. Jimin, Soomin, and I just bought food and then went to my apartment. And you?”

“I did,” he nods.

“Did… did Hajoon bother you again after we left?”

“No. Well, he just kept giving me the death stare but he didn’t do anything else,” he says. 

“I really don’t know what got him so worked up,” you sigh, feeling bolder at having to share this much. “He’s not usually confrontational and he knows I hate it. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“People have their reasons for getting angry. They’re not always valid, though, and definitely not always warranted,” Jungkook replies, briefly looking away. “Whatever it is, at least he didn’t throw a punch.”

“Oh, if he did, that is it for me,” you chuckle, feeling unfamiliar with being able to talk to Jungkook so casually like this. “Goodbye, job; goodbye, Seoul. I will probably just work as a librarian somewhere.”

Jungkook wants to say he wouldn’t accept your resignation for that reason, that he doesn’t want you to go anywhere, actually. But that’s too much and probably inappropriate to say given the circumstances. So he just hums and turns back to the folder and looks through them. 

“I’ll need these back in my room,” he says, carrying one while you take the other. 

You appreciate the topic change, knowing you won’t know how to handle more if the conversation deepens. You both walk back quietly, as it dawns on you that the casual nature you both talked to each other is a little disorienting. 

You’re not used to him sounding concerned.

He’s not used to you being honest and open. 

Perhaps seeing a different side of him isn’t all that bad, you think. 

Jungkook wants to believe it’s your way of forgiving him, too, even if he hasn’t actually apologized for anything. 

The minute it takes to return to your respective desks ends, and Jungkook is back to focusing on his designs while you get back to making reservations. You peek inside his room every once in a while to check if he’s okay, if there’s anything else he needs, if there’s anything you can do for him. 

The frustrated look on his face isn’t new, but the fact that it isn’t directed at you, is. So is the worried feeling you have for him. You’re a mix of emotions from everything that’s happened this past month, so you can’t deny that the way he’s been acting towards you has left you confused, maybe even doubtful. You have to be cautious, you think, and not fall into a comfortable dynamic with him so easily. 

The next day, he’s back to being serious once again, as you sit to his right in the restaurant that will be catering the upcoming VP event. Jungkook decided for both of you to have the food tasting for lunch, and so a spread has been prepared for him to make the final decision on the menu. 

You’d like to think that you’ve developed quite a sophisticated palate, all thanks to the numerous events that Hoseok asked you to organize in your three years working under him. With this upcoming dinner party a sort of introduction of Jungkook and the project to the art world, he wants to make sure that he serves only the best to the guests, which is why he carefully tastes each dish, trying to determine the best combination that’s both delicious and creative. 

You give your comments, some of which he acknowledges, and you feel like you’re both making headway in terms of the menu, as well as with his disposition for the day, given that he’s looking more comfortable and relaxed than he was half an hour ago.

That is, until he sips his wine for the first time, and clears his throat.

“I believe I specifically said that lunch today is a work matter, Ms. Cho,” he says sternly. “You’re on the clock and this isn’t a break.”

“Y—yes, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, curious as to the reason for his statement.

“Then why is your boyfriend waiting outside the restaurant, trying to catch your attention?”

“What?” You exclaim, turning around and spotting Hajoon standing by the lamppost, his sullen eyes getting a bit of light in them once they meet yours. “I… I don’t know,” you respond. “I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday.”

“How did he know you’re here, then?”

“His restaurant is just up the street,” you sigh. “He must’ve seen me when he was walking there. This area is his usual route. Please just ignore him.”

“I can’t when he’s in my peripheral vision. He’s still the man who got in my face the other night. He clearly wants to speak to you and I don’t think he’ll go away,” Jungkook reasons. 

You look at him, waiting for his instructions. 

Jungkook doesn’t like that Hajoon is there and he also doesn’t want you to speak with him during work hours, especially if it’s going to affect you for the rest of the day. But the man seems desperate and persistent; he really doesn’t seem like he’ll just let this moment of seeing you pass.

“You have five minutes,” Jungkook says. 

You don’t exactly want to go out there; there’s a reason why you haven’t returned Hajoon’s texts or calls these past days. But you can imagine that it’s a worse look for him to be staying around; a distraction during this work matter that you know Jungkook would not appreciate one bit. So you stand up and tell him that you’ll be back shortly.

Jungkook returns to the dish in front of him, noting that the Japanese mushroom risotto is a good addition to the set menu. The event his office is planning includes a sit down dinner and then an offering of canapés and champagne while guests walk around the venue to see the presentation of the Arts Center in large boards and on screens. It will be a good way for him to socialize - something he’s incredibly nervous about because it’s not his strongest suit, nor is it something he enjoys, unlike his cousin. The primary goal, though, is to introduce the project. Jungkook needs important people on board so they can be involved in the launch and the succeeding special activities.

He tries to think about that night and how he wants to design the place. He tries to think of other things, too, like the music and decor, even if he’d said that’s for both of you to plan next week. He’s even thinking of a follow up already, even if his management support team is in charge of that and would be dependent on how this first one is gonna go. 

Jungkook tries to think of anything, really, just so he won’t constantly be glancing at you in his periphery, as you talk to the man from the other night and possibly make up. You did leave him at the restaurant last Saturday; you also did clarify that you’re not together. You just said you haven’t spoken since then, so it’s safe to say that both of you aren’t in good terms. 

Jungkook can only assume, though. He doesn’t know the story, nor would he ever; he reminds himself he shouldn’t be thinking about it in the first place. He was never one to be privy to his staff’s personal lives; he spent most of his time with Lucas but didn’t know more than his family's composition. Jungkook doesn’t even recall knowing if Lucas had a partner, or if his then-assistant even mentioned it. 

But clearly, Hoseok knows more about you than Jungkook would’ve expected. Perhaps it’s just how his cousin is, or maybe the time spent together just created that environment where it’s natural or normal. Maybe it’s the culture that his father encouraged; his old man is quite close with Mr. Ri - his former chauffeur and bodyguard - and Mrs. Myung - his executive assistant, after all. 

But it’s not what Jungkook is used to; it’s not how he spent his few years in the Singapore office because like always, all he did was work and party. His mentor in graduate school also advised him that professional lines are ones he shouldn’t cross. Though Jungkook never really knew what exactly those were, he just dared not get close to anyone or be remotely interested at all, and that never caused him any problem. He’s always been safe where he was, guarded and unbothered.

But ever since you walked through those doors at Hoseok’s office that first Friday, Jungkook has been finding himself skirting near the boundaries far too often, and it’s only been a month. It began with making sure you’re eating well and that you’re safe on the way to work; he convinces himself that’s human decency, although he never really bothered much before. 

And between wanting you to get proper rest before your trip to your hometown, to seeing you with that man from last weekend and being so bothered by it that it caused a scene, Jungkook’s internal alarm bells are ringing, telling him that he’s getting too interested, too close. It doesn’t help that he finds you attractive, something he doesn’t have control over. What he does have a say in is how he responds to it, and that has been incredibly tough, especially given the weekend he’s had. 

He’d spent the rest of it trying to keep his mind off you - the way you looked in that outfit, the way your touch sent shivers down his spine, the way you’d looked at him worriedly… And when you walked out of that restaurant, he wondered what you were thinking, how you were feeling, how you’d be spending the rest of the night, and if you were gonna be home okay. He hasn’t really stopped since.

Even now, as he stays in his seat and tightly grips his glass of wine at the scene unfolding outside. 

You’re standing with your arms crossed - setting the boundaries, and perhaps signaling your detachment, though he can’t see your face. The man, on the other hand, seems emotional, the tinge of sadness evident on his face. But there’s a mix of frustration and anger, too, as his arms flail around. He points at you, then at himself. His voice seems raised; Jungkook swears he can see the veins from the man’s neck popping out while you… you’ve got your head turned to the side, your body not eliciting much of the emotion the way the man’s is. 

Jungkook stops himself from making an excuse for you to come back inside, just so he can pull you away from a conversation that you don’t seem to be wanting to have. But he knows it’s not his place, and the man might make a scene again if Jungkook decides to step in. You know how to stand up for yourself; you’d done it to him, he reminds himself. You’ll do what you need to do, whatever it is.

The man heaves, as whatever monologue he was giving ends. He reaches out to you, perhaps making a final plea, but you step back, widening the distance. It’s what prompts him to bow his head and turn around, leaving you by the lamppost on your own. 

Jungkook sighs in relief now and he waits for you to return, but he’s surprised when you stay rooted in your spot, your arms wrapping around yourself despite the heat outside. He worries when you enter, your head bowed down and unable to look at him. 

He wants to ask how you are, but he’s unsure if he’s ready for your answer, knowing that there isn’t much he can do anyway. So he goes with what he knows - detachment. 

“I’ve chosen the last two dishes,” he says. “They’re serving the desserts soon.”

You turn to him immediately, your misty eyes painted with worry meeting his own.

“I didn’t think I was away that long,” you state, worried about the time you left your boss waiting while dealing with a personal matter that for the first time made you wish you were stuck with Jungkook instead. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.”

He didn’t expect you to look so upset. He’s terrible at comforting people, but even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t know if he’d manage to comfort you. So he just shrugs and says that they were straightforward dishes. 

You both try the desserts then the canapés, exchanging thoughts about all the options before shortlisting your chosen dishes. By the time the food tasting is over, you’re stuffed and set for the rest of the day. 

You try not to look at Jungkook. You don’t know if he’d seen how your conversation went with Hajoon, but if he had, he could probably tell what was going on even if he couldn’t hear anything. 

He’s had his moments, but you’ve never seen Hajoon look that upset and emotional, and you stood there, afraid to face all his feelings that you didn’t know what to do with, all those words that you didn’t know how to take. You’re usually one who’s able to let negative things said to you just go over your head, but something about what he’d said today hit you; you know it’ll take you until tomorrow to get over them.

But you try to get through the rest of the day the way you usually do - going through reports, organizing schedules, finalizing tomorrow’s presentation, and then working on the revised interdepartmental guidelines that Jungkook tasked you to do. 

There are draft letters you send to him, thinking that you’ll work on some administrative matters while he reviews them, but you’re surprised when he calls for you 10 minutes later, saying the letters are approved and you can send them in the morning. You’re left wondering, given that anything you submit to him usually goes through intense scrutiny. Perhaps you’re not used to this easy pass, but you try not to overthink it, given the day you’ve had.

“You can go home, Ms. Cho,” he says as he types away. 

It’s 5:30 PM. Usually this time, he’s still handing you things to review or instructing you on what else to do. 

He seems to pick up on your silence, as without looking at you, he clarifies. “I don’t need you to do things you can do tomorrow. We’ll have meetings all day so I understand if you want to stay behind but you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t seem like he’ll be finishing soon, and you’re really not in the best mood so you nod and bid him goodbye.

The conversation with Hajoon stays in your mind all night and lasts until the next day. You’re in Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning, preparing his breakfast while he takes a shower. 

With your phone snug under your neck, you relay to Soomin what happened yesterday. She was too busy last night for a call and she’s been bugging you since you got in the car - that you continue to ride as per your boss’ instructions - so you finally picked up, knowing how long it usually takes for Jungkook to finish.

“It started with him apologizing, then wondering why I haven’t been picking up his calls, then justifying his actions from last Saturday as him, standing up for me,” you narrate. “Obviously, I didn’t take those too kindly.  But he said he wanted to be with me, like, have an actual relationship. And I said I didn’t want to then he just… he kinda just said everything he’s been keeping in.”

“Which is what?” Soomin asks.

“That I’m selfish, that I don’t think about what my actions may mean to others, which is silly since I was clear from the start about what I wanted from him,” you sigh. “He said that I act independent but that’s just a front, that deep down I’m a lonely woman who’ll probably push away every person who’s shown me they care until I have no one left and that’s why I’ll be alone forever, which he says is a deep fear that I have because I apparently told him that when I was drunk. And even after all that, he said he still cares about me, that he wants to try to be something for real this time, that if I just let him, he’ll love me right and make me happy and I just backed away, like, why would you—”

The clearing of the throat cuts you off, and you nearly drop the expensive plate due to panic once you look up and see Jungkook standing by the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry for taking a personal call, Mr. Jeon,” you say immediately, putting away your phone. “It won’t happen again.”

You bow your head down in apology, which is why you don’t see the way Jungkook’s eyes soften as he looks at you. Words like that hurt, and he can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for you hearing them. Still, you went about yesterday with your accomplished tasks and completed deliverables like it didn’t happen, displaying a kind of strength that he could only hope to have.

“Yesterday was a tough, I suppose,” he states, choosing to ignore your apology. 

“It was a normal one,” you brush off, walking towards him to fix his tie, not meeting his gaze. 

Jungkook doesn’t reply, knowing you don’t want to acknowledge that he’d overheard your conversation, which he didn’t mean to walk in on. It did bother him, too; he suddenly wishes he’d fought back if that man was just going to speak to you that way. 

There’s a sadness in your eyes that he tries not to mind and which you try to trivialize. Perhaps the man matters that much to you for you to be feeling this bad; Jungkook doesn’t really know what to do with that thought. So he tries to brush it off, too, telling you instead to be ready for today’s meeting with his father. 

You ask if he’s checked the presentation you worked on, as you added things from the last time. He nods and says he only added minimal details that he came up with last night, and you check to find that he indeed just made minute changes, another thing that you’re thankful for yet wary of, especially given how critical he was about your work in the beginning. 

You continue with your morning routine of debriefing about yesterday’s meetings, then you finalize the Arts Center event’s menu in the car. When you arrive at the office, you wait patiently as he goes through some reports that you’ve checked, then he reviews some memos that he asked you to work on. 

The last one finishes faster than you expected. It seems now that his comments are what you look for, only because it reminds you that he hasn’t changed; somehow that seems like a better thought to have than him suddenly being lenient or lowering his standards for you for some unknown reason. He’s definitely witnessed some of your low moments; you don’t want to think those have anything to do with how he’s been lately.

The meeting with the management support team ends before lunch time, and you work on the minutes and the other things Jungkook had asked of you during the time that he meets with Yoongi in his office. That takes another half hour, and by the time they’re done, you’re done with your tasks, too, so you send those documents to Jungkook for checking in the afternoon.

Another one off the list, you think to yourself. At this point, you’re just going over all your deliverables with a focused mindset and waiting for the day’s end so you can spend time for yourself, just on the couch watching variety shows and movies until the weekend comes when you can do that for longer hours. 

Having your friends over or traveling to Daegu are the only other things you look forward to. You used to look forward to spending the night at Hajoon’s, too; you could at least feel something pleasurable - the closest you could get to any form of intimacy that didn’t require you to bare yourself other than your body. But that’s a thing of the past now - there’s that amazing life-changing toy that Soomin got you last Sunday that’s got you thinking that you’ll be fine being alone for the rest of your life.

“Long day, huh?” 

You look up and see Yoongi, his curious eyes scanning your desk full of papers, folders, and half-eaten biscuits.   

“It has been,” you sigh.

“I see. It’s also only just 12 noon,” he points out.

“What a shocking revelation, Min Yoongi,” you grunt. “I don’t need to be reminded that I have another six hours here.”

“Hmm, just like me. So, what are you looking forward to when you clock out?”

“My leftover stir-fry for dinner that I’m going to add beef to,” you respond. “And The Zone. I missed it last Monday.”

“You and your variety shows,” he chuckles.

“What other reason do I have to laugh, hmm?”

“I’d say me, but you don’t find me funny.”

“You aren’t, sorry,” you smile, your first of the day, and Yoongi smiles back, knowing you haven’t been doing it the past few weeks.

“So–”

“Ms. Cho,” Jungkook’s voice cuts Yoongi off, as your boss stands by his open door with curious eyes that flit from you to the man in front of you. He recovers though, as he instructs, “the minutes are fine. Send it to the team now so they can work on their tasks.”

“You’ve read it?” You speak too soon, realizing a second too late that the words didn’t stay in your head. Your widened eyes don’t help you though, as Jungkook scowls at you.

“Are you asking me if I’ve read the file that I just approved and instructed you to disseminate?”

Yoongi purses his lips to hold off a laugh, and you glare at him because his teasing isn’t really what you need right now. 

“I meant, uh, you’ve reviewed it already, sir? I… thought… you were going to prepare for the lunch meeting instead,” you reason, which isn’t even a lie. 

“I have. Father hasn’t called me up so I just reviewed the minutes while waiting.”

You look at the file and see that nothing has been added. “And? That’s it?”

“Ms. Cho, are you questioning my ability to review?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to look displeased, although they seem harmless compared to his frustrated expressions from the past. 

“No, Mr. Jeon, I apologize,” you say. “I was wondering if you didn’t have anything more to add, that’s all.”

“There’s none,” he clarifies. “Just send it to the team and uh… get ready for the meeting.”

He glances at Yoongi before closing the door.

“Questioning your boss’ ability to review now, huh?” Yoongi teases.

“Shut up. He’s just been weird,” you pout.

“That’s new. How so?”

“He hasn’t been an asshole for a few days.”

“Well, that’s quite the standard but I get you, I guess,” Yoongi hums. “In what way has he been out of character?”

“He just… hasn’t been pointing things out and correcting my submissions or asking a lot of questions about the reports I review,” you say. “Or just… you know, he hasn’t been him. He makes Mr. Ri pick me up every morning, he doesn’t email on the weekend, I get to leave on time, I get to eat properly…”

“In short, he’s been a decent boss recently?”

“I guess… I mean, it’s been two weeks since my mishap. He’s been quite tolerable these past few days. Maybe he hit his head and some loose screws tightened. Maybe he had a bad dream and the ghost of the future me visited him. Maybe he had a change of heart… though that’s highly unlikely. Maybe he–”

“Realized he hasn’t been good to you and doesn’t want you to go through the horror of another Mrs. Byun,” Yoongi interjects. 

Your curious eyes prompt him to continue. “We had a meeting the other day and I saw a folder on his desk with her name on it. Formal complaints are only available in physical copies; other personnel files are stored in the server, so the only documents he’d have of her are the ones of her investigation. And he’d only be interested in that because of you. Those include your written statements.”

“As do you yours,” you point out.

“Yes, he’d totally be interested in how his design lead witnessed a manager’s abuse of power three years ago,” Yoongi sarcastically says.

You sigh to yourself. You’ve never told Jungkook about your experience with Mrs. Byun, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok or even Yoongi has mentioned it to him. It’s an experience you don’t like to think about; you were a young woman who had everything to prove, who had a lot to lose, and conceding to someone taking advantage of you seemed like the only way to survive. Not once did you put your foot down, and not once did you stand up for yourself. You experienced all those then went home to an empty house and found comfort in your own warmth and your own breathing. 

You don’t want that experience to determine how others would treat you after. Hoseok was all things gentle and warm and you know that whatever you went through wouldn’t have determined how he treated you. 

But Jungkook… Jungkook is different. This isn’t his default state. This isn’t how he normally is. This isn’t how you started. The last thing you want is for him to feel pity for all that you went through - in the past and recently - and then treat you differently because of it. He’s been less critical, less judgmental, and less doubtful of your capabilities. You only wish it isn’t for anything that he’d read or seen you experience. 

“I doubt it,” you shake your head. “A man that perpetually displeased doesn’t just decide one day that he’d give the bare minimum of decency to his assistant.”

“Look, ___. Jungkook is a lot of things. He has a lot of feelings that he doesn’t want to deal with, and a lot of emotions he doesn’t know how to express,” Yoongi tries to explain. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if I didn’t believe there’s an ounce of goodness in him. And there is. Maybe him showing it just isn't good timing. He’s terrible at that, too. In fact, he’s terrible at a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t try. It doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of kindness.”

“Kindness,” you huff. That’s quite a reach, but Yoongi’s always been a good judge of character. You do want to believe what he says about Jungkook; it’s just not an easy switch to flip. “I’m just trying not to care much at this point,” you sigh. “I come to work, focus on my tasks, do whatever I’m asked, go back home, rinse and repeat.”

“Is it satisfying, though?” 

“When was work ever satisfying, Yoongi?” You laugh bitterly. 

“Well, I could at least recall seeing you enjoy organizing those events for Hoseok and even joining him in some,” Yoongi points out. “I… I saw you smile a lot. There was a bit of satisfaction there, yeah?”

“Somehow, I guess. But I just had to make do. Hoseok was great, but this is also my job, really the only thing going for me.”

“What are you working towards, then?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe at 30 I should know but I really don’t.”

“Then why are you still here?” He asks, softly, desperately. “Why do you stay?”

“And find out who I am outside of all this?” You wonder out loud. “What if I don’t like her? What if she isn’t good?”

“Then this place hasn’t been good for you if you doubt who you are outside of what you’ve done here,” Yoongi says. “You’re just 30; there’s a whole world out there where you can learn who you are and be someone you actually like. I don’t know what’s stopping you.”

A lot of things, you think to yourself. But when you find comfort in discomfort, when you find security in chaos, and when you find companionship in loneliness, it’s not that easy to leave all this behind, even if deep down, you know it’s what you have to do.

“I don’t know, too,” you lie. “Maybe I’ll find a good enough reason one day and that would be it; I’ll be out of here and then I can find out if I like myself outside of everything I know.”

“I think you would.”

I did, Yoongi thinks to himself. He knows you’d laugh and agree; he’s moved on from you and things can’t be any better than how your friendship is right now, but he also knows you’re not the best at feelings, a similarity he realizes you have with the person you supposedly dislike. 

“I won’t know until then, I guess. So I just gotta bear with who I am now,” you say.

There’s so much of you that Yoongi doesn’t know. It’s why he wanted to, why he asked you out for coffee and why he felt a bit of a heartbreak when you turned him down. But there are parts of you that he does know, that you let him see, and sometimes he finds himself wishing you’d find someone you’d feel safe enough with to share everything else you keep to yourself. 

He keeps these things to himself, too. He’s learned that the only way to keep you close is to keep his distance; you’ll reach out if you need to, even if it’s something you rarely do. But what’s important is that he’ll be there just in case; what matters is you know that there’s a hand available when you need it. 

So he just nods and takes your word for it. You’ll find yourself somehow, in whatever way you will. And you’ll find a reason to leave, whenever that is. He could only hope it’s a decision you’d make on your own, one that you won’t regret, and one that’ll lead you to find whatever it is that you’re looking for.

“So what, they want to put a stop to the Arts Center? They’re not the ones working hard for it. And quite frankly, I don’t need their help in any way to make it happen.”

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, anger manifesting in the way he clenches his jaw and groans repeatedly. It’s a sight you’re familiar with by now, and for the first time, you feel for him. It feels as if with this project, he doesn’t seem to have anyone on his side, aside from Hoseok, who’s been encouraging and helpful in many ways. 

“They don’t want to stop it, son,” CEO Jeon says. “They’re merely questioning some of your decisions about the prices you’ve set out.”

“In short, they’re undermining me,” Jungkook groans. “This is my project. We’ve done the necessary research. If they read the report, they’d know. But clearly, they just want reasons to doubt all this, to doubt me.”

“It’s just the first project of its kind,” his father reasons. “The arts institution from 2017 was a collaboration and it wasn’t this big. The Arts Center just isn’t the usual commercial establishment that the VP office undertakes. The Board just wants to be clear about the profits because it’s not as straightforward as the others. They want to know how the property will earn.”

“Exhibition entrance tickets, bookings, rent,” Jungkook replies. “What’s not straightforward about that? Might as well say they don’t understand or even value arts and culture because that makes money, and if done right and respectfully, it can make a lot of money. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not like I didn’t make those points, son. It’s your first big project. I think they just—”

“Don’t believe I can manage it on my own.”

“They don’t think you can make the necessary connections on your own,” CEO Jeon finally says. “We all know how important that is. They doubt you’d be able to forge good relationships with professionals in an industry we don’t really have strong connections to. And with a project this big, it’s the company’s resources and reputation on the line.”

There’s silence in the room, as Jungkook seems to process the core issue that the Board has with him. You can tell it’s affecting him so much, as the anger in his eyes slowly turns into resignation. 

It’s no secret that Jungkook’s way of engaging with others leaves a lot to be desired. From what you can see, he’s used to thinking more, envisioning, planning - the concepts and designs are amazing in his head and there are others tasked to sell that idea, to make it connect with people, to express why it matters, and to make sure it earns. That’s what Hoseok is good at; Jungkook never seemed like the type who enjoys that aspect of the work. 

“You should’ve thought about my outstanding interpersonal skills before appointing me as Vice President, then,” he says bitterly. “Clearly that’s what the Board and everyone else value more than anything.”

“Hey, Kook. We know you’re good for this role,” Hoseok comforts. “And we believe in your project, we really do. Just focus on that. Make sure you’re constantly adjusting and refining the plans, and remind the Board that your ideas are even better when they’ve come to life. You’ve done it with your other projects before. Eventually you’ll be able to show them that you’re more than capable of forging relationships, too. That’ll come naturally. But in the meantime, you just have to give them something to make them believe it’ll be good for the company and our image in the long-run. Make them envision it.”

“I have,” Jungkook argues. “And I’ll keep doing that. I just need father to be on my side. I just need him to back me up, to trust me and every single one of my decisions.”

You’ve never heard desperation in Jungkook’s voice until today and you’re surprised with how much it’s affecting you, not just because you know how much effort he’s put into conceptualizing the place but because you’ve come to believe in it, too.

“Ms. Cho.”

CEO Jeon’s voice pulls you away from Jungkook, and you turn to the older man and ask if there’s anything he needs.

“Your thoughts,” he responds. “What would the Arts Center mean for the company? Do you think it will yield profits?”

They’re not questions that are new to you. Hoseok would often ask you these things about the smaller projects that go through him. CEO Jeon has asked you the same things in informal situations before, not so much to gain new insight - although he claims that your thoughts are interesting to him - but to gauge your belief in the project. He has a good read on people; you’ve observed him ask questions and pick apart not what they said but how they said it. You suppose that’s what he’s doing now, too.

“You’ve mentioned a few times that you want to expand the company’s market, Mr. Jeon,” you start. “And if I remember correctly, the Board agreed. Efforts to cater to expats and the middle class have been successful, but perhaps another type of expansion is in engaging the field of the arts and culture and its creators and consumers. More people from all walks of life and all over the world are gaining interest in Korean art and culture in all forms and the company has the resources to create a space for it. Like what the Vice President said, there’s an opportunity to earn from it while, of course, respecting it.”

You see CEO Jeon and Hoseok nod, a sight you’ve seen before as well. But Jungkook looks at you with curiosity, with a look of anticipation, as if he’s hanging onto every word you’re saying. 

“The Arts Center was conceptualized and designed to be a hub for all things creative,” you continue. “Making general admission free makes the arts accessible to people, and once that appreciation grows, they’ll pay to see it, to experience it. Just go to any online forum and you’ll see that the public wants to experience art, not just observe it. They’d travel for it. The Center has spaces for that. I think that’s the ultimate goal - for anyone to be immersed in it. And that can happen through art pieces in a gallery or in a garden, through books, music, or spoken poetry, or even a photoshoot. Patrons can book rooms for private events, they can buy from the gift shop, they can do art themselves. It’s like a canvas and they can take part in creating meaning for the space. That’s what we’re selling. And that’s something people are willing to buy.”

“I see your point, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says, nodding satisfyingly at you. “And it’s a good one.”

“It’s what Mr. Jeon has been saying all this time,” you counter. “It’s easy to understand and to buy into the idea… if only the Board would listen to him. If only they’d open their mind to what he envisions.”

“Well, that’s one way to get through to them, then,” Hoseok voices out. “Invite them to the arts event, treat them like creators and consumers, not as Board members.”

“That’s a good idea,” CEO Jeon says. “Maybe then they can see how you engage with the guests, which I hope you’re working on. And while you’re at it, work on your relationship with them, too. That means initiating conversations, seeking them out… It's part of the job, son. The Board are our stakeholders, too, you know this.”

“Aren’t some of them based in Japan and Singapore?” You wonder aloud, hinting at another suggestion that you want would come from Jungkook himself, given his scheduled plans to fly there.  

“Yeah. Maybe I can meet them the next time I go,” he says, picking up on your thoughts.

Jungkook isn’t really fond of engaging with them. He always just left the socializing part to his uncle who used to head the Southeast Asian office. When Jungkook would be in Seoul, he let his father, Hoseok, and Ji-woo deal with them, with nothing but an acknowledgment on his end. He tends to stay at the bar on his own just to drown out the sounds. Yoongi sometimes joins him but most times, Jungkook finds himself alone even during such events; being with a lot of people is tiring, lonesome, isolating. With this new role, he’s started to accept that he has to do more. It doesn’t mean he’ll enjoy it though. 

“I’ll have that arranged for you,” you tell him. 

“Well then, that’s one way to revamp your image,” the older man smiles. “You just have to keep that up moving forward. That’s why Ms. Cho is there. She’s used to these events and these engagements with them. You’ll be fine.” 

You give a reassuring smile to Jungkook - a genuine one, as you see it’s what he needs, given all that you learned from today’s meeting. He merely nods, and you think that should be enough of an acknowledgment from his end.

Hoseok wraps it up, going through a few policy-related items and then reminding the other men about upcoming social gatherings that they all need to attend. He asks to briefly speak with Jungkook, whom he pulls aside, while the elder Mr. Jeon approaches you.

“Thank you for standing by Jungkook, Ms. Cho, especially since I haven’t been able to show my support the way I want to,” he says. “I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“It hasn’t, but he made me believe in his vision for the Center,” you respond. “I’m starting to see what he sees. And it’s quite beautiful.”

Jungkook overhears the exchange, as he zoned out on Hoseok once he heard his father address you. 

It’s something that his cousin picks up, as he repeats what he just said, totally unbothered by it. 

Hoseok, of all people, knows how important it is that you have Jungkook’s back. He also knows how difficult that must be for you, given how the man has been towards you all these weeks. 

But you’re unwavering. You’re able to withstand the challenges, and while Hoseok knows that you do have a tendency to also allow yourself to suffer through it, he also knows you’ve learned, and you’ll stand your ground if you need to; he’ll back you up, and he can only hope you know that.

You all exit the private room of the restaurant and head back to the office across the street. It’s 4PM by the time you return to your desk, given that Jungkook called for a meeting with the management support team after what transpired during lunch. 

You immediately work on the minutes and action points, finishing two hours later and then deciding that you’ll work on your next deliverable tomorrow. 

Jungkook exits his room, informing you that he’ll be leaving for an early dinner with Hoseok at a nearby restaurant, and that Mr. Ri can drop you off at your place. You’ve contested the service that was offered to you, and you and Jungkook settled on a compromise that you can go home on your own except for late nights.

“Mr. Ri will just be waiting for me anyway. No harm in driving you home tonight,” Jungkook says, knowing you were about to turn down the offer.

“Okay, sir,” you reply.

You do last minute things and pack up immediately to go home, taking this chance to get proper rest because you know the last two days of the week are going to be tiring. 

The next day, Jungkook does conference calls and closed-door meetings, leaving you to do summary reports and other administrative backlogs that have your eyebrows scrunched the entire day. If it wasn’t for Do-hyun reminding you about lunch that you promised to have with her, you would’ve totally forgotten. 

You’re in the zone as you go through the afternoon - two meetings straight that have Jungkook rubbing his temples constantly and you doing the same. But you pop in some aspirin and ginseng jelly next to his cup of tea, feeling satisfied when he takes them.

You go home on time, not wanting to be offered a ride for a consecutive night, and you get proper rest to face the final day of the week. 

It’s all going well, as you find a rhythm early on as you work on your deliverables while Jungkook remains focused on his own tasks. You’re the one who reminds him now to eat his lunch, and seeing the blueprints sprawled on his desk, you offer to buy him one yourself. 

He nods in appreciation as you state his usual order for confirmation, and you eat your sandwich while waiting for his curry rice bowl in the food hall. You get back to your tasks, thankful for the unusually quiet and uneventful Friday. 

You see now how hyper focused Jungkook could get. He’s got his blinds closed but you can tell that he’s immersed in his designs and proposals and plans. He’s not allowing calls or visitors, and he only rings you to ask for coffee, which you’ve given him four times so far. Towards the end of the day, you’re the one who asks to go in, informing him that the Board meeting has been moved to a week earlier than scheduled; it’s two Fridays from now, which means his team has to finalize everything soon.

It’s his first one since becoming Vice President, and given how he used to question you, you’re surprised when he asks your proposed timeline to prepare for the meeting. 

“Manager Lee is already consolidating all the departmental reports,” you respond. “You can instruct him to finalize the VP report with all those by Wednesday; the presentation can be due on Friday so you can go through all of them. We can submit the report for CEO review the Monday after that and then you can prepare for your run through until the meeting.”

“Sounds good,” he replies. “I’ll send them an email with the instructions shortly.”

“Noted, sir,” you say. “I’ve also submitted the minutes of the past two days’ meetings as well as the policy guidelines you asked for.”

“Oh, right,” he says, taking his iPad. “I’ve looked through them. The minutes are good; you can disseminate them accordingly. I’ve highlighted the parts for the condensed version you’ll send to the CEO and the President. I also have minimal corrections and remarks on the policy guidelines and I’ve edited them directly on the file. Just proofread again and then affix my signature once you’ve finished.”

“Y—you’re done?” You ask. You hope he doesn’t pick up the shock in your voice.

“Yes, and I’ve read them. Thoroughly,” he answers.

You smile in embarrassment after the other day. 

“Does that bother you?” He follows up. 

“N-no, sir,” you say, knowing he’s waiting for an answer. “I guess I was expecting you to take longer because, you know, more comments. And you’ve been busy all day, too.”

“More comments… Is that what you’re expecting?”

“Sort of,” you admit. “I mean… you made a lot of them before.”

You pout in reflex as you realize how you sound. You’re basically pointing out how critical he used to be, and if you’re being honest, you do wish he still was. At least that tells you that he’s still the same, that no knowledge of your past experience with your former boss has made him change his disposition towards you. 

Jungkook sees your pout, and he crosses his arms and legs to keep himself from doing something as stupid as wiping it off you. It’s a little disarming for him, if he’s being honest. 

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” you clarify.

Liar, you think to yourself.

“Well, if I used to do it a lot and I still do that after a month in, wouldn’t it reflect poorly on you and me if you still haven’t learned from all that?” He asks.

You think about it and eventually nod. He does have a point.

“You’ve adapted. I’d be worried if you continued to do things the way you used to,” he adds. 

You nod again, taking in all his words. Much as you appreciate them, there’s another thought still bugging you. 

“May I be honest, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, your heart beating fast now as he looks at you curiously. 

He nods anyway and asks you to continue. 

“I don’t think you’d lower your standards or anything when it comes to my work,” you start. “So I don’t want to believe that you pity me just because you know what I experienced in the past.”

He looks at you questioningly, as if to ask what you’re talking about.

“I spotted Mrs. Byun’s files on your table,” you lie. “I assume you’ve read about how she treated me. And I… I don’t want to be pitied, Mr. Jeon. If it’s that, please don’t. Please don’t let it affect how you’d treat me. It wasn’t even that bad—”

“It was,” he interjects. “This company doesn’t tolerate people who abuse their power. I only knew about your case because I’m thorough with my work. And that includes looking into my staff and their past. I did it for everyone,” he lies as well. 

Hoseok and Yoongi had mentioned something about a past experience and Jungkook did dig deep. It was so he could help you professionally, he convinced himself.

“You should also know that I don’t make compromises when it comes to the quality of work of my staff and that means I don’t pity people if they fail to meet my standards. But I suppose you think that I do because of how I was in the beginning,” he continues, surprising you. “I admit I was being too critical. And I don’t have an excuse, just that I absolutely hate change. I’m not good at managing it and I reacted in a way that I’m used to, which is not a good way at all. I know now that I was not fair to you.”

The apology doesn’t come, but you know that the admission means enough already. It’s definitely taken a huge burden off of you. You didn’t dream up all those incidents and it wasn’t entirely on you. That itself gives you relief. 

“My father and cousin were right. You’re a fast learner. You pick up on the comments, work on them immediately, and adjust accordingly. It’s a good trait to have, Ms. Cho.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Jeon.”

“May I be honest, too?” He asks, surprising you again.

You nod, anticipating what he’d say, knowing he’s never been this quiet nor looked this nervous in all these weeks you’ve known him.

“What you said to my father about the Arts Center the other day, I appreciate that, too,” he says. “I guess you could’ve said something general or basic but you didn’t.”

“Your father wouldn’t have minded what I said,” you reply. “What mattered was how I said it. I guess as the person who’s privy to a lot of things about the project, he sincerely wanted to know what I thought about it, if I genuinely believed in it.”

“Well, it was a good way to convince him. And it seemed like he believed you.”

“I’m not a good actor, Mr. Jeon,” you chuckle. “He believed it because I meant it. And he saw that I was on your side. As I should. I still meant it, though.”

“That’s… encouraging,” he huffs. “At least one person is.”

“I’m sure he does, too.”

“It’s ironic that people like Mr. Ri think that my father and I are so alike, yet we don’t see eye to eye most of the time.”

“It’s because you are alike. You both think you’re right all the time,” you joke, teetering on the edge and sighing in relief when he laughs, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard. 

“You make a good point,” he smiles a tiny bit, something you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him do. “But I’m still adjusting to working directly with him, and in a bigger role, too. We'll probably butt heads a lot.”

“You will. I already know it. In fact, I can already see it,” you laugh again. 

It’s a moment you share with him that you didn’t imagine you ever would. He’s being honest about his concerns and you’re giving comfort in the way you know how and neither of you seems to mind. 

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help, Ms. Cho,” he says so softly, his eyes turning away from you. “I’m gonna need your assistance. Not just in seeing the Arts Center through but in everything - navigating this role, dealing with my father, dealing with people. I… I know what I’m good at. So I don’t really focus on the things I don’t do well in but this position forces me to confront those and I… I’ll need help.” 

For someone who doesn’t seem to like being vulnerable in front of others, seeing this side of Jungkook makes you sympathetic. The soft tone of his voice, the lack of eye contact, the crossed arms… they’re familiar because it’s how you are, and you know it’s difficult to be this honest with another person, especially when it’s about what you need. 

More than wanting to help him because it’s your job, you find yourself wanting to see him succeed, too, to see him manage it all. That way, when you do eventually leave the company and search whatever it is you’re looking for, you can rest easy knowing that he’ll be okay, that the team will be okay, that the Arts Center will be all that he imagined it to be. 

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I’ll do my best to provide you with the assistance you need.”

“Thank you,” he mutters, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say those words with such sincerity to you, too.

You bow in acknowledgement and head out, leaving Jungkook in a haze, as he realizes that in your presence, he’d done what he's been trying to avoid ever since you walked in his life - be honest. He’d told you his concerns, his needs, and it seems that his honesty is something you appreciated as well. There was that acceptance that he wouldn’t have expected from you, not because you aren’t the type to give it but because he hasn’t given you a reason to. But you gave it regardless; you let him feel that it was okay. 

It’s another half hour before he’s packing up to head home. It’s been a tiring week and he just wants to have a long bath, watch sports, and drink a cold beer over grilled meat. He’ll probably get some work done but maybe he’ll drive to some resort out of town, have a good workout, get in a sauna, and have a massage. He’ll have a nice meal with his friends and then go to a club. Or maybe he’ll just stay in. There’s something about being honest that makes him want to keep to himself for a while. He’ll start with that tonight, as he turns down Taehyung’s invite to another one of his client’s party.

Jungkook walks out and sees your desk empty, but he does hear your voice coming from the management support team’s room, telling them about your weekend plans as well.

“I’m going to the film festival in Incheon,” you say. “And probably just stay at a hostel.”

“Are you going by yourself?” Do-hyun asks.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply. 

Hajoon was supposed to go with you. He invited himself, actually, and you should’ve read into the fact that he’d wanted to experience your interests with you. You hadn’t minded, and that’s clearly out of the picture now. 

“I usually go to them by myself,” you add.

“Well, if you decide you want to invite one of us or hang out, you can always let us know,” Chin-sun teases, knowing you probably won’t. 

“Let’s wait until we’re not too tired and busy, okay?” You chuckle. “That way, we can afford to do whatever we want on the weekends.”

“Yup, that’ll probably never happen,” Do-hyun pouts. “When are we not tired and busy? It’s probably worse this time because we don’t get to laugh and joke around like we used to. Are we even getting a holiday? Will we have an out-of-town team building? Or dinners and karaoke like how Mr. Jung used to treat us to?”

“The team-building is budgeted so yes, we’ll have it,” you tell them. “And dinners? I can maybe suggest that to Mr. Jeon. And come on, no one’s stopping you from laughing or joking around. You can still do all that.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I feel like I’m not allowed to because it might seem like I’m not serious about my job because our boss is too serious and it doesn’t seem right,” Do-hyun whines. 

And for the first time, you feel genuinely bad for how they think about Jungkook. You don’t blame them though, but the man you saw earlier who broke into a small smile is definitely capable of laughter; you just don’t know how to elicit it from him again. 

“He’s just been under a lot of pressure, but he doesn’t prohibit you from finding joy in anything,” you say. “Just… give him some time, okay? He’ll come around. Let’s just focus on our work and then focus on ourselves when the weekend comes. So all of you, pack up now and go home to your families and your pets. We’ve got a long few weeks ahead.”

Jungkook hears a collective okay then heads out right away, the initial thought of saying goodbye to the team having dissipated. He can’t blame them for voicing out their frustrations over the change in how they’re being managed. Hoseok was loved. He built a competent team whose spirit Jungkook is afraid he’s now breaking. But he’s not like his cousin, and he doesn’t know how to reach out to them in a way that’s genuine. He let the pressure get to him too much early on and while he’s not the type to forge connections with his staff, he’s seeing now how important it is for him as Vice President to do that. 

But it’s too much to think about for today. He’ll let this affect him a little bit and then figure things out. Based on what he heard though, he’s not on his own. You were on his side again, even when you thought he wasn’t around. There’s something about the way you stand up to him and stand by him that’s refreshing. There’s honesty there, too, and he’s learning that it’s what he needs. 

He makes it to the elevator but then holds the door once he hears rapid footsteps. You mutter your thanks as you enter, and he feels the tension build as you’re together after the exchange earlier. He hasn’t gotten over that yet, so he’s unsure how to talk with you. 

It seems like so are you, as you drum your fingers on the strap of your bag and focus on the door while you both wait to make it to the ground floor. Jungkook is tempted to offer you a ride with him but he decides against it. Even then, he slows his steps so he could walk alongside you, as you both head out the main doors.

“Get some rest, Mr. Jeon,” you finally say. “And have a good weekend.”

You look at him with sincerity in your eyes, your smile soft and assuring, something he’s never seen you direct at him before. It’s even different from earlier. There’s more understanding, he thinks. Perhaps there’s care.

“You, too, Ms. Cho,” he replies before entering the car. “Get home safely.”

You bow to him and wave at Mr. Ri before walking down the pathway to the street that leads towards the bus stop. 

Jungkook lets himself be comfortable in the seat while he forces the image of your smile out of his head. The sun has set and it’s Seoul at its busiest on another hot Friday evening. There are more cars than usual and so movement is slow, but that’s how he sees you - walking down the sidewalk in the midst of all these people. And there you are, somehow looking at peace. There’s an air of isolation that surrounds you, but you don’t look lonely. Just… alone. There’s still that warmth in your eyes and your smile that he finds himself wanting to see more of.

This is when he realizes he might be in trouble. There’s a line he shouldn’t cross, but there’s this desire to get to know you, to know your thoughts and your feelings and your words. He reminds himself that he needs you, in a way that an authority figure needs support and assistance. He needs you to be focused and capable, and he needs to be the same. 

With his attraction that he can’t get over, he knows that the only way to make sure that he keeps things professional is to keep his distance - not just physically, but more so emotionally. You’ll definitely be spending more time together and he needs to constantly remind himself of who you are and who he is. That much as he feels safe and honest with you, he can’t go any further; he can’t let you get any closer. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but that’s one other thing he’ll figure out.

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[kzpearce]

A LOST KID CALLED YOUR BOYFRIEND “ DADDY ” !!

ft. k. ayato, alhaitham, tartaglia, heizou, k. kazuha, scaramouche, tighnari, diluc, kaveh.

note. no pronouns mentioned (but quite focused with female reader. worry not, it's not obv tho hopefully). quite suggestive to childe and heizou.

your fav characs might be here in part two!

author's note. i posted this two or three days ago but i got shadow banned for some reason (maybe i had too tags?) i don't know how tumblr algorithm works because i'm quite new here ;( anyway i hope you enjoy this !! additional note; this was inspired from a specific event of tears of themis where this little girl was lost and called the four men their "daddy" !!

— kamisato ayato.

“hi sweetie,” the child opened her arms as she ran towards your boyfriend with a huge smile on her face. ayato hefted her with a sweet smile on his face (you were frowning, but you couldn’t help your stomach explode with butterflies).

“everything makes sense when a ‘single’ man is so hardworking.” you rolled your eyes as you whispered sarcastically (ayato managed to hear you though).

“this is our baby,” he whispered to you with a wink, planting a quick kiss on your cheek.

“are you lost, baby girl?” ayato asked the little girl like he didn’t do anything that made your face turn into a tomato. 

your boyfriend can be a very great father to your future children one day. 

— alhaitham.

both of your eyes widened when you saw the little girl hugging your boyfriend with a smile on her lips. the little girl kissed your boyfriend’s cheek multiple times, she looked very happy to see her dad.

you bit your lower lip, preventing yourself from laughing too hard when you saw alhaitham’s priceless look. however, it was becoming a hard task to do, hence you covered your mouth with your hand. “i’m not informed, alhaitham.”

“i’m not a big fan of kids unless it’s ours,” he remarked. 

you laughed (ignoring the fact he might want to have kids with you), “help the child, haitham!”

— tartaglia.

ajax started hugging the little girl with love too. you rapidly blink at the sight, questioning if he was really the father of the child or someone close..? 

“not mine, baby.” he grinned as if he read the thought running in your mind. “the guardian or parents must be here somewhere.”

you and ajax didn’t really think nor talk about it until the child’s mother was found not too long after. your eyebrows furrowed to childe, waiting for him to answer the questions you wanted to hear. however, he just shrugged yet with a mischievous smirk curved on his lips.

“too bad. it would be hot if you were the one who called me daddy though.”

“archons, ajax!” 

— heizou.

“the kid must have had a traumatic experience, and it seemed like i looked like her father,” heizou thought thoroughly. 

“yeah, yeah, hot detective.” you rolled your eyes with a grin. “what if it was really your child?”

heizou shrugged. “you haven’t even felt how big my-”

“okay, shut up, you dirty ass gross.”

he laughed his ass off.

— kaedehara kazuha.

“who would’ve thought that you’ll have a child, kazu.” you blinked while watching him. the child gave kazuha quite a lot of affection. she must have been missing her father to be this clingy to kazuha.

“impossible. i’ve never been in love before, until you.” kazuha sighed. his eyes stare at the girl who had been resting in his embrace with a smile on her lips. he made sure she’s comfortable, thus kazuha was swaying her gently.

you watched them; the sight of kazuha taking care of a kid made you feel assured. you somehow saw a future with him.

“i’ve also never been jealous of a kid until now.” you rolled your eyes playfully while pouting.

kazuha chuckled, “my sweet dove, take it easy. you’ll be spoiled later with my affection.”

oh, he’s such a sweet angel.

— scaramouche (wanderer).

he rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose after the kid ran to him with a smile on her face. you wanted to maintain your composure and tried not to laugh when he can’t disregard the poor girl off him.

“can she just get off me?” he whispered like praying to the gods.

“you’ll be a bad father for our future children, kuni.” you smirked.

“is this even our child?” scaramouche barked.

you shrugged, unable to wipe the grin off your face. “maybe?” you teased.

he glared at you. 

“i’m just joking. but treat her like our child.” you winked.

scara had decided to give up with a sigh. he lowered himself until he reached the child’s height. “here,” scara said, handing a candy to her. you could see the happiness in the little girl’s eyes. “we’ll find your brother soon, okay?”

no words can explain how hard you fell in love with him after you saw what you saw.

— tighnari.

“we... don’t have a child, right?” tighnari asked, confused. he carried the child in his arms nonetheless.

you shake your head, “maybe you do have with someone else?”

“i can’t do that to you, (y/n).” he slightly frowned.

you grinned, “let’s help her then,” you kissed tighnari’s cheek. 

“why not on the lips?” he questioned. “are you mad?”

“there’s a kid, tighnari.” 

“kiss me,” he whispered as he covered the little girl’s eyes with his hand.

you obliged with a smile on your lips, pressing your lips on his. 

— diluc. 

“you have a child?” you tilt your head in confusion. “so unlikely of you.”

“i would stop running the dawn winery first before i shoot my sperm in someone else’s womb.” 

your jaw dropped. ignoring his dirty mouth, you focused on his word someone else’s. “so there’s someone else?”

“no,” diluc shook his head, staring at you with a slight grin on his lips. 

“how would i know you’re telling the truth?” you asked, challenging him.

“it’s going to be your choice to believe me or not,” he shrugged. “but just so you know, i would pass the ownership of dawn winery later tonight if you want me to.”

you kissed him, “of course i believe you.”

— kaveh.

“let’s adopt her?” kaveh grinned after he hugged the lost girl.

“you fool, that’s someone else’s child. unless it’s really your child?” you playfully glared at him.

“it’s not mine, but we can make it ours.” he smiled.

“kaveh, she’s lost.” kaveh grabbed her little hand. “would you hold their hand for me too, sweet girl?”

your eyes widened at his request to the little girl. the little girl nodded and held your hand together with his. she was between you and kaveh, holding your hands with hers. the three of you looked like a family.

“are you hesitating now?” kaveh smirked.

i'm sorry if this is quite short to some! i'll still think if i should decided to make another part for the other characters or make a new one!

[1uvtae]

i think i just saw my ex. | jeon jungkook

★ word count: 10k- yay!

★ genre: classic exes to lovers,,,with slightly suggestive smut,,,and fluff...and the typical mutual pinning that may be a tad (a lot) angst... also TENSION. SOO MUCH TENSION!!!!! and both y/n and jungkook are trying to play hard to get which might be a bit crack up!!!

★ summary/snippet: jeon jungkook is your ex from many years ago, and you think you might've just seen him in a bar…and a part of you is definitely craving him.

★ kae's little chat: playing the typical kae exes to lovers theme, cos all i write about is exes to lovers micro-fics!! (this might be the only thing i'm good at writing) I recently just bought this glazed donut lanolips lip balm and it is what I religiously used while writing this fic for a whole ass week and I hope this fic tastes and smells like glazed donuts to you guys too ;) also a quick tag for @cassies-cookies!!! the fic has arrived!!!

enjoy a little teaser before you start!! can i consider this as an appetizer??

do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!

this is my masterlist and drabble list for more of my works!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you are 99.9% sure you just saw your ex.

you can't add that 0.1% on because 1) it is so darn dark in this bar, the annoying flashing lights poking through your eyes and into your soul, and 2), you are drunkenly intoxicated right now.

but gosh, that side profile looks almost identical to him. you've tried to follow him with your gaze, but all you got to closely view was the back of his head. (the very familiar back of his head, may you add.)

this isn’t something you expected on a nice friday evening. 

when you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you realised you typed quite some texts and paragraphs to that familiar number of his, but it seemed like you were way too drunk to hit “send”. thank god.

blank-eyed, staring at the unsent texts, you felt a stinging pain in your chest. 

you’re not the type to go back to any of your exes, and all your break-ups have been straightforward and savage. plus, you dumped him first!!!

you sit up on your bed, finger tracing over the floral details of your quilt cover. maybe it was because your partners after him have all been so lame, yes definitely that. plus, you’ve been very single and lonely for the past few months, that’s exactly why you are missing him.

he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, you remember how childish he was, and was quite protective over you- which was one of the reasons you two didn’t end well. 

but on the other hand…

he was a really good sex partner. you two mended flawlessly together. not to boost his ego or something, but that boy definitely can fuck.

you sighed loudly, pulling the covers over your head. the night is still so long, but you do not have any of the calmness to fall back into sleep.

oh, the long, dark night.

after a whole day of debating and contemplating, you ended up hanging out with a few of your friends back at that specific bar. tonight, you needed someone to get your mind off your ex that you saw yesterday.

when excusing yourself to the bathrooms, you brushed past someone's shoulder in the hallways while scrolling through your instagram feed; he had a broad and tall frame, and his vividly tattooed hand holding a glass cup, and you felt the urge to jerk your head back to see his face. 

thinking “this is someone to take my mind off him!!”, you turn your head and your wild imagination completely halts. you feel your eyes widen and your pupils might as well fall onto the ground - it’s your ex. 

thank god you just got your hair done a few days back and you were head down, focusing on your phone the whole time, so he didn’t even glance at you. your heart completely dropped and skipped a beat, and you rushed into the bathroom to freshen up. 

after you walked out of the restroom, you carefully scanned every table for his silhouette, after locating the target, you walked a good lap around his booth to eye him out. fairly, he wasn’t hard to look for, judging by his clean undercut under those dark brown locks, and his perfect complexions, everyone seemed to notice him the way you did. you spot two girls walking up to him, offering him drinks in exchange for his number. 

you were now more than certain that this was your ex… and you’re also certain that you’ll never get over how attractive he is. 

once you’ve fallen for jeon jungkook, you’ll never fall out.

on the way home you remembered how hard you worked to get him to date you, it was almost rejection after rejection. and then you dumped him?! gosh, now it will be even more difficult to get his attention.

you feel like giving up instantly at that thought, but you cannot help yourself texting your mutual friend yerin: “did jungkook come back?” 

your friend did not respond, which leads to whatever you’re doing right now - sitting on your couch, stalking through social media accounts. it was not under his old username, which made it difficult to find. but you remembered his dog’s name. 

after typing bam’s name into the search bar, it only took a few scrolls to find a decent amount of photos and videos of the brown doberman. after clicking into his account, you sigh. he never posts himself, just some more dog posts and a few random scenery shots. 

continuing to watch every single video of bam, you see that the newest video of the cute dog was taken in another location that didn’t look like the place from the video from before. clicking on the comments, one from his friend reads “you moved?” he replied: “yeah”

you moved, or did you come back?

just realizing what you’ve been doing stupidly for the last 20 minutes, you lock your screen and toss your phone onto the coffee table. your friend responded right after the phone dropped onto the surface. 

did he quit his job?

“yeah, he quit his job last month, he probably came back” 

although he moved to a different city after the breakup, he still worked for the same company you worked for - that could’ve been a reason to reconnect. but now that he has quit that job, it makes it impossible for you to even have an excuse to hit him up.

yerin double-texted, “what’s up abt jungkook?”

you: i think i saw him recently

you: he’s still so fine 

yerin understood your tone extremely well, responding immediately: do you want me to plan a group dinner or something this week

you: yes please, i’m free every night this week

yerin: y/n, i meant ONLY group dinner…nothing else.

you: of course just dinner…what were you thinking?

yerin: i know you way too well

yerin: you obviously don’t only want dinner

you: hm

yerin was very speedy with her planning skills, the dinner was booked to be this friday night, it wasn’t weird at all since you and jungkook did have the same social circle for years, and considering he just came back, it was just more of a couple of friends and coworkers gathering together to celebrate. but yerin did not hint to him that you were also going to attend this dinner at all.

you stood in front of the mirror, your outfit was carefully picked out, and you spent almost 2 hours doing your makeup- in these years, your style has changed drastically, but you still wore the same fragrance he gifted you.

to create your ‘grand entrance’, you decided to show up late by 20 minutes, just so you can look casual and not too prepared to see jungkook. when you were on the road, you received a speedy text from yerin: be mentally prepared for what’s coming.

huh? be prepared for what?

when you were led to the table of the reservation, you realized what she meant.

you recognised every single face, except one. there was an unfamiliar girl seated right next to jungkook. jungkook wore a casual black hoodie, his hair slightly fluffing out. looking almost too soft to touch. you tried very hard not to lay your eyes on him for too long - since you already got a very personal look from the girl that was seated next to him. 

yerin mutters under her breath when you seat yourself next to her, which is right across him. “he brought that random girl over.” 

you keep that in mind, starting to greet your friends, then shooting a look back at yerin,  then whispering “if you told me this was gonna happen i would’ve turned around on the spot and sprinted back home!!!”

(yerin did tell you after the meal that the second you walked into the room, there were almost no expressions on his face. you don’t know if he was already expecting you, or if he just did not care about you whatsoever.)

you hope it’s not the second option.

the dinner was french cuisine, everyone had already ordered some sort of grilled steak while you decided to order sole fish fillets. sipping your chardonnay, you oversee the girl nudge jungkook’s arm, softly asking, gesturing at your transparent drink: “kook, what did that girl order?” he puts his glass down, responding with a gentle tone: “white wine. you pair white wine with fish. wine with red meats.” “so that's why you ordered red wine for me?” she nods before asking again.

“mhm.” he nods in response, taking a sip of water, with his very charming and endearing smile. 

you almost knock over your wine glass when slamming it back down on the table with aggression, suddenly this chardonnay tastes like fucking ass. 

you listen quietly to everyone talking about careers and how they’ve been doing recently, jungkook occasionally opens his mouth to input or say something. you realize how mature he has grown over these years, he speaks like a logical, grown man, and is completely not the person you were with a while back. you remember the old gatherings when you and he were dating - he barely says a word during the whole meal. not going to lie, this well-spoken jungkook is super attractive.

the main course came very fast after the drinks. you gasp at the fancy plating. the girl in front of you takes her knife and fork, struggling to slice the red meat. she slowly glances over to jungkook, and he notices her stare, speedily finishing up cutting up his plate, and offering her his already perfectly sliced steak, taking her uncut serving for himself.

after that, you put down the knife and fork, containing yourself to not roll your eyes.

that was an eyeful. might as well just not eat this shitty meal.

after that awful meal, they all planned to go for a second round, but jungkook said that he couldn’t go because he had to drive the girl home. after hearing that, you lost every interest you had in going for shots, which caused you to head straight home on a friday evening at 9 pm. how eventful.

taking a thoughtful and steamy shower, you decided to put a face mask on. a notification from no other than yerin broke the night’s silence.

yerin: jungkook’s here

you bounced up from your bed, replying within a millisecond. 

y/n: huh? why is he there?

yerin: he’s sitting on the table next to ours

yerin: u coming?

you close your eyes, every single imagination you had got crushed today when you saw the girl that he brought. it was almost hurtful now that you think about it.

yerin continued to add: he didn't bring the girl, if that’s what you’re wondering

hm…you hesitated for a while, but gave up. you can’t be interested in someone with a girlfriend-

yerin: and!! tae was being nosy so he asked him

yerin: turns out that the girl was just a blind date his mum arranged

yerin: not his gf

yerin: u still have a chance yk!!

you yanked the face mask off, rushing to redo your makeup again. you didn’t even bother to drive there, calling an uber instead. before entering the bar, you ensured yerin grabbed jungkook to sit at the same table. 

just when everything was planned beautifully and you were ready to make your grand entrance pt2, you bumped into a client who was by the bar table. how can you reject a business client? quick answer: you can’t. it’s a business client.

having to sit with a stranger by the bar table, but unable to walk to that table with your friends (and your ex)  might be the biggest struggle you’ve ever gotten yourself into. by the time you and the client had finished chatting and drinking, jungkook had left not only the table but the entire nightclub.

oh my gosh, you are going to lose your mind! a whole full stomach of alcohol and yet you still haven’t gotten to use your flirting tactics on your ex that you’ve been missing. you did not feel like staying at all, dragging yerin to get out of this hellhole. 

but who knew you’d see him again in the parking lot?

every cloud has a silver lining.

and there jungkook stood, leaning against his flashy black mercedes, phone to his ear. the second you saw him, you knew what to do. you were going to fake being drunk. you link arms with yerin, stumbling your steps and attempting to slur your words. yerin has to straighten you up manually when she goes over to jungkook. “hey jungkook! i thought you already left.” jungkook puts the phone back into his pocket. “i was just about to.”

yerin wasn’t hesitant at all, almost shoving you at him, thinking he’d help grab onto you, but he did not move a single muscle. her last resort was to lean you against the car. “perfect! can you drive y/n home? the girls are still waiting for me so…”

he opened his mouth to speak, you figured he was going to reject yerin. before a single sound came out of his mouth, yerin quickly interrupted him, “amazing! thanks so much, dude!! okayimjustgonnago-!” from your peripheral vision, you could see her almost sprint from the parking lot back into the front door of the club.

all that was left was you, who was faking drunk, and jungkook, with his brows, knitted, looking down at you.

judging from how rapidly yerin ran away from you, jungkook knows he can’t do anything else other than drive you home. he sighed and held open the passenger’s door for you. he raised his chin, gesturing you to hop in.“get in yourself.” he heard you chuckle at his words, turning to him and giving him a judging glance, then getting into the seat.

jungkook was extremely confused, and only realized the reason when he got into the driver's seat.

you seemed to not let that joke go, “i’m in, what now?” jungkook keeps a straight face while starting the engine. “seatbelt.”

he drove out of the parking lot, and he immediately hit a left turn, driving towards the direction of your house. after a few moments, he turned his head towards her at a red light. “where do you live?” your eyes were shut, leaning back on the seat, not wanting to respond to him.

jungkook does not want you to know that he still remembers your address off by heart like an idiot, so he turns into a random street on his right and keeps on driving. after feeling the car stopping, you open your eyes, peeking out the window. 

the hotel?? he drove you to a hotel?? you kept your eyes shut, as a silent protest to not get out of the car. you knew jungkook too well, he probably wanted to just leave your ass in the hotel, and you won’t get to ever see him again if you went with that.

jungkook nudges you with a finger hesitantly. you didn’t even budge. after a deep sigh from the man in the driver's seat, you hear the engine start again. 

he always drove at a perfect steady pace. you swear you almost dozed off when you felt the car stop in the underground parking garage. 

jungkook gently held onto you up the elevator, you heard the sound of a door unlocking, and your ears perked up when the sound of the door opening was followed by a loud bark from bam.

he brought you back to his place. that perfectly goes with your plan!!

you behaved the entire way home just for this moment. all that acting led up to this moment. he locked the front door, then squatted in front of you to help you take off your black heels. you were going to be using the moment wisely- when jungkook carried you over to the couch to put you down, you scratched his lower torso aggressively with your right hand. 

it was a strong scratch, causing the person carrying you to let a harsh hiss under his breath. he looked down at your sharply shaped nails, then at the girl in his hands right now, your eyes were shut, lashes slightly fluttering.

he always liked working out and had an almost daily streak of hitting up the gym, resulting in his body being super in shape. he had the perfect model figure- abs, pecs, shoulders, you name it. he has it. you look back on how great he was at using his strength advantage in bed, gosh, he was perfect.

even bring able to leave a little scratch on his skin could do something to you right now.

jungkook goes straight into the kitchen to pour you a cup of water. the first thing he did though, was lift up his hoodie and inspect the scratch. and under the hoodie, lay two vivid red scratch marks on his lower abdomen. the bright marks went from his veins into his spank bank, the vivid images of you under his control, he reminisces how you always loved scratching his back, his neck, and his shoulders when he hit your soft spots. jungkook’s skin was always very sensitive, making it effortless to leave marks and bruises for days. he recalls his friends making fun of the scratch marks you left on his back ever so often during the few summers when you and he were dating.

by the time he recollected himself and brought you the glass of water, you were already fast asleep on his leather couch. he watches you for a while and realizes you still look the same after this many years. more mature, but still the appearance he could never forget, even in his dreams. his eyes fall on your delicate ears before he puts a stop to his mind.

he clears his throat. “go sleep in the bedroom.”

your eyelashes flutter as you turn to face the other side of the couch, mumbling something inaudible to yourself before getting back into your dreamland.

jungkook: “y/n?”

his ears catching a delicate airy whine leave your mouth.

jungkook isn’t too fond of whatever game you are playing, but he knows what you want to do to him. he’s matured and grown now, not the loverboy that was wrapped around your pinky finger anymore. he can read expressions off your face very accurately. considering the fact that it has been years since the breakup, and you had never broken the non-contact thing.

and suddenly after he got back into town, a reuniting dinner was planned, you showed up to the clubs, and whatever yerin was trying to do, and now- you are in his house, on his couch. he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.

this is exactly the little tricks you used to play, and he fell head-first into it last time.

he promised himself that he would never fall into the same hole twice!

but of course, he won’t let you sleep on his couch for the whole night. this two-seater leather couch is extremely small for anyone to find comfort in. your figure is curled up in the soft seats, and he notices your legs almost dangling out from the couch. 

he bends down to swoop you up, and by instinct, your arms find his neck. he slowly makes his way towards the bedroom, not wanting to wake up the girl in his arms.

considering this was a brand-new apartment, jungkook doesn’t have a bed yet- it’s just a mattress in the middle of the floor. he lowers his body carefully and places you in the centre of the bed, thinking your arms would instantly unwrap themselves from your neck, he tries to stand back up. but your grip on him was way too tight, jungkook almost lost his balance, but his reaction was fast enough for him to use his arm strength to hold on both sides of the bed, keeping a small dangerous distance from falling on top of you. his warm breath lands on your exposed neck, and you feel the warmth melting on your collarbones. 

you had to keep everything within yourself to not pull him closer, hoping he would find his balance to move away from you, instead, it’s almost as if he bowed his head lower, leaving more burning breath marks on your collarbones. the itchy feeling almost numbing. you couldn’t help but slightly peel your eyes open discreetly- through your lashes, you realise he was already on his feet again, simply pulling the covers up for you. 

the soft quilt falls on top of your lower torso, and his warm hand ‘accidentally’ brushes against your thigh before he completely gets up. he watches your reaction for a short while, but nothing from your side. he knew if it this was two years ago, you would’ve absolutely gone for it right now. he remembers even if his hand slightly rested on your thigh while driving, you would immediately get him to pull up on the side of the road for a heated makeout session. but it looks like, y/n is not the y/n he remembered.

jungkook turned off the big light, leaving a small night lamp on by the bedside table before patting bam to follow him back to the living room, planning to deal with the couch for the night. 

honestly speaking, if he stayed for even one more single second, you wouldn’t be sure what you’re capable of doing to him.

painful, very painful.

it was almost 4 am when you opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. your eyes land on the agape bedroom door. from where you’re resting, you can clearly see most of the living room. there he lay, on the couch. 

jungkook normally sleeps just in his boxers, but considering the fact that you’re in the residence, he had to grab a pair of sweats to cover up. you observe the man on the couch, he is lying on his back, and you end up studying his figure. you could tell he was wearing nothing under those grey sweats- gosh the grey sweats and his shirtless body?! 

you shut your eyes and sigh. contain yourself y/n. 

if you weren’t already, you’re surely hungry for jeon jungkook now.

but you must control yourself now- jungkook knows what game you’re playing, and so do you. he’s such a slippery fish to catch- you can’t just pull the rod as soon as you hook him? 

and, it looks like he wasn’t going to give in tonight that easily too.

this can be a fun game to play.

you watch him for a little longer, he turns his body to sleep on his right side, now his body fully facing you. well- this is awful. it took no time for you to fall asleep for the millionth time, this time- it was a heavy sleep. the scent of his bed surrounding you.

you decide to stay in his bed for a little longer because you know you have to leave the second you wake up. 

jungkook also stayed home today, heading into the bathroom to clean up, then making breakfast, following up with feeding bam, and lastly back to the couch, attending a business call meeting. 

if you didn’t have to use the bathroom so urgently, you could stay in his bed until noon. you crawled out of bed to stretch, then mentally prepared yourself to walk out of his room. well, you can’t fake drunk anymore, can you?

after coming out of the washroom, you slowly walk to jungkook, trying not to interrupt him. “...do you know where my phone went…?” 

his gaze did not leave the laptop screen, his chin raised slightly, directing you to the device on the coffee table- where your phone lay. you hesitantly collect your phone, wanting to thank him about yesterday, but the sight of him so focused stops you. you didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, making way to the entrance. 

you put your heels on while watching bam play with his ball on the side. the doberman notices you, walking over to you while cocking his head which reminds you of how jungkook would always do. you reach a hand out to pat his head but bam back up immediately out of caution. 

feeling a little butthurt, you ask: “don’t remember me?”

not only forgetting about you, but bam also leaves to sit next to the man on the couch. jungkook gives bam an endearing rub, then looks up at you, standing by the door. 

wow, bam. he always preferred jungkook over you, even when you and him were together.

you glance at the black-brown dog….but now you have a reason to contact him again.

although finding his social media account was a hassle, his phone number never changed. the same night after leaving his house, you found the number that you almost accidentally texted.

y/n: can i pick bam up from yours

he replied almost instantly: you are?

you let out a light laugh in unbelief before texting back: y/n

then it took a good 30 minutes to get a text back. “sure thing, but only if he wants to go home with you.”

you roll your eyes at the obvious fact that: of course bam doesn’t want to go home with you?! considering the cold shoulder he gave you this morning. 

but it’s okay since the cute dog was never the target to go for in the first place.

the day after the text, you went straight to his apartment after work, not bothering to change out of your work outfit- because you knew he was very into this specific set. it was a simple creamy white formal skirt set with black opaque tights.( and he loved this set. so much to the point by the time you normally got back home, he would press you onto the couch immediately. your skirt would usually be wrinkly by the time you two were done.)

jungkook answered the door, his eyes instantaneously landing on the girl in front of him, his eyes slightly widened for a split second. he has to admit, that you recognize his preferences a little too well. 

it's not because he likes the pantyhose with skirt look, but more because it is on you. especially because he would watch you get ready for work all seriously, and you would get home and find his shoulders immediately, draping on top of him all tired and worn out from socializing. and he was a whore for it. 

he’s literally hooked for you.

he opened the door wide open for you, he didn’t have any spare slippers in the house, so before you could take your slip heels off, he stopped you. “no need.” 

after shutting the door, he opened his mouth: “you didn’t bring anything?”

you’re here to pick up bam, and yet you came empty-handed, causing bam to only take one glance at you before jumping on the couch, disinterested. 

jungkook brought bam’s toys and treats over to you, yet bam didn’t even budge, to the point where he had to physically carry him over to you. it seemed like bam wasn't having any of this, not even giving you any sort of attention. jungkook had to give him a big encouraging talk before handing the medium-sized dog over to you. 

you needed a lot of strength to hold the doberman in your arms while jungkook went to get a dog leash. the second bam saw the leash in jungkook’s hands,he started to struggle out of your grasp, struggling to get out of your embrace. 

you weren’t prepared for the dog to be so strong, before you could let go of him, he had already left a faint bite mark on your arm, you winced under your breath while watching bam hop over to jungkook’s feet. jungkook hurried to drop the leash, coming up to you. “are you all good?”

“just a bite.” you brought your arm to his eye level, it wasn’t bleeding or anything, just a clear bite. “i’ve got some antibiotic ointment. you want some?”

you nodded your head. “sure.”

“...do you want to those off then?”

“hm?” you followed his eyes, looking down at your tights, a hole had been scratched open too, and you didn’t realize that maybe bam had also scratched you on the leg while trying to get out of your grasp. “yeah- yeah. i’ll do that.” you answered after excusing yourself to the bathroom. taking off the nylons, you threw them into the laundry basket before checking the scratch.

it was nothing but a pink line, you hurried out of the room, scared that by the time you headed out, it would already have faded. 

jungkook was already seated on the familiar couch by the time you finished taking your tights off. you went over and seated down extremely close to him. pressing your thigh against his knee to show him the faint mark. he kept a very straight face while taking out the otc ointment from the first aid kit. he treated the few marks, you don't know if it was intentional or not, but he applied way too much on the injuries, leaving a big patch of your skin covered in ointment. 

you look at him, who is now putting the cream back into the box. he clears the silence, “it doesn’t seem like he wants to go with you.”

you let out a sigh, looking at the dog resting by jungkook’s side. “it’s a shame that he completely forgot about me.”

“it’s been too long since he last saw you, that’s why.” he gives loving pats to bam, and you find an endearing smile creeping on your face at the scene. you muttered under your breath, “i missed him, i definitely wanted to live with him.” jungkook turned his head from the dog to you, adding “i take great care of him, and he likes me more.” 

you went silent. that’s an unarguable fact. the silence went on for another minute when he spoke again. “gotta rebuild the trust again.” 

your ears perk up at his comment…does this mean you can come to visit more often…to build the relationship again?

but you know it’s petty unlike for bam to like you again, lowering your head slightly, you mention, “i don’t think so,” you look up into his glassy, pure eyes, “i don’t want to force it. he looks way more comfortable with you anyway.” you’re not sure if jungkook wanted to hear that, but his brows slightly knot as he slowly opens his mouth to speak. “you’re giving up? even just being friends?” 

your eyes immediately widen- you’re not sure if he meant being friends with bam…or him. he subconsciously avoids eye contact with you, looking back down at bam. “since i- no, bam, can consider you as a co-owner.”

you like the sound of that.

this is something you could get used to.

jungkook didn’t seem like he minded you staying, so you obviously did not have any intentions of leaving just yet. you’re playing with bam (surprisingly you and bam have gotten quite along within an hour) when his takeout arrives. he hesitantly asked you if you wanted to have dinner together, which you agreed happily to. he walked into the kitchen to cook something extra for the two of you.

you weren’t too hungry, but you had to admit you desperately missed his cooking. it was already 9 pm when you and him had finished dinner. the entire time it was filled with small talk and comfortable silence. you left right after dinner, saying farewell to bam, and received a slight nod from jungkook. 

after getting home, your phone buzzed with a notification from jungkook’s number. it was an image of your tights in his laundry basket. you locked the phone without replying and hopped into the shower. 

after doing your skincare, you casually replied: “chuck it in the trash”

jungkook sent a photo of the tights in the rubbish bin with no other caption.

you decided to tease him a little: or you can keep it if you want

jungkook: ……i’m not that gross

as if he has never touched your tights. you don't even remember how many pairs of your stockings he had ripped during the time when you two were together.

as if he could read your mind, he sent a full 2-minute video of him taking the rubbish bag outside, followed by him throwing the plastic bag into the rubbish bin with no remorse. you watch the video on a loop for a few minutes, chuckling to yourself.

you weren’t sure what got into your mind the next day. after taking a relaxing bubble bath after work, something within you told you to find jungkook. although you were very rough from working, you still felt energized to prepare yourself. after putting on a tank top and a skirt- you made your way out. 

your hair still damp, you decided to pick some snacks on the way to his house. with confident and happy steps, you knocked on his door.

no answer. 

you stood outside the locked door, dialing his number: he picked up within two rings, voice relaxed and soft. “what’s up?”

“are you not at home?” 

he paused for a split second “you’re coming over?”

you hummed in response, “i brought fried chicken too.” 

“i’m out fishing.” jungkook said, then changed to a softer tone. “since…it didn’t look like you were coming over tonight.”

you suppressed your laughter, teasingly asked: “so you were waiting for me then?”

the other side of the phone remained silent, causing you to let out a giggle. “i’ll come find you, share your location.” 

he hung up, sharing his location with you right after- a freshwater lake close by. you made your way to his location with no hesitation.

bro he’s actually fishing on this fine evening.

it was extremely dark by the lakeside, but you could make out the figure of many middle-aged men sitting by the lake. turning your phone flashlight on, you spot your familiar ex-boyfriend in the middle of many men. 

he stood up to borrow a foldable stool from the man next to him. you tidied your skirt before sitting real close to him, your arm pressing against his. he looked at you on his side, “it’s too hot.” he muttered. you didn’t move away at all, instead, you decided to lean your head on his broad shoulder. he didn’t move away either.

you didn’t understand the joy of fishing but still watched him the whole time quietly. it felt peaceful to have him against you by the dark, calming lake. 

instead, jungkook felt slightly heated - how is it possible to focus on his rod when he had you leaning on him? it only took him half an hour to start packing his equipment, he couldn’t stand you next to him! you’re such a distraction! (not that he’s complaining…) 

after leaving the lake, you two stood under the road lights, he glanced at you under the warm streetlights. he noticed your glassy eyes of discomfort. he looked down at the few itchy bites on your arms. oh shit- he forgot to remind you about that. 

the lake was surrounded by grassy areas, he was smart wearing a long sleeve and sweatpants, but he forgot to warn you about the mosquitoes before sending you his location. it was only around 30 minutes, but he could spot a few reddish marks on your arm, waist, and legs.

you didn’t realise this when you were by the lake, but now that you’re under the light, you can see the spots clear as day. jungkook takes your hand to lead you to his car, occasionally having to stop you from touching the mosquito bites. “don’t scratch them, we’ll be home soon.” he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, before stopping to caress your earlobe for a slight second.

“but it’s itchy.”

“patient.”

you bite down on your lip. patient. you should’ve been patient when you were taking that damn bath!!! this is what you get when you’re too eager for jeon jungkook.

jungkook took you back to his, immediately using a cold damp towel to caress over the little scattered bites. the mosquitos that were by the lakeside were deadly- the small pink dots had turned into a few red swollen bumps. 

you were in his embrace, feeling nothing but defeated. this is literally his second time treating your injuries within two days. a familiar feeling you feel before tearing up runs up your nose, triggering your eyes to start to build up with tears. oh, you feel so guilty right now. almost weeping in his lap, he comforts you on the back while the other hand applies ointment on the bumps, he pulls out a handheld fan to relieve the itching. 

“there’s more on the legs.” you tugged on his sleeve, speaking through sulking. jungkook moves to search for the rest of the bites, not expecting you to lift up your skirt to reveal the red mark on the inside of your left thigh. jungkook hesitates for a split second before applying some of the white ointment on his fingertip, his heart seems to be beating faster than usual - his head spinning, but he ignores it. 

when his hands move closer to the spot, you close your legs slightly out of discomfort, just enough to cover the mark with your panties. jungkook feels his breathing fasten, he uses his middle finger to push the fabric of the underwear out of the way, rubbing the treatment on the spot. he wasn’t too sure what he touched, but he was sure he saw a slight reaction from your body, causing your hand that was holding the skirt to slightly twitch. feeling a twinge of playfulness creep up, he holds the small fan to the spot, turning it on with the press of a button. 

you immediately close your legs out of sensitivity, giving him an alarming look. the second your legs squeezed against each other, jungkook swore he touched your core with his hand. he felt a numb shoot from his hand, through his veins, then right to his scalp. 

you noticed his reaction on his face, and downwards. half of you wanted to take the rare opportunity- but you listened to the other half that told you to slow this down. you decided to leave after that interaction, not giving the both of you what you two obviously want from each other. 

plus, he has the whole night to deal with that problem. and plenty of time to think about you.

talking about giving him time, you made the cruel decision to not contact him for the next few days. plus, there was a load of work you had to do for this week for your job.

you knew jungkook would never break the ‘no contact’ type of thing either, but through some late-night stalking, you did find him updating his social media a little too frequently. either it was some workout progress pictures or his dinner with bam. weird.

the weekend came by fast, yerin texted you wondering if you wanted to go bowling with her, you hesitated, wanting to use tomorrow getting ready to see jungkook and bam. but she added that jungkook was going to be there- and you were immediately sold.

yerin’s boyfriend was decent friends with jungkook, they always hung out together, but right after you and jungkook ended things roughly, her boyfriend did not seem to like you very much. which is very reasonable since you did break up with him over text and whatever. which is something that has been keeping you awake at night lately.

arriving at the bowling alley, you see someone familiar with jungkook…the blind date girl. she had two bottles of sprite in her hands while sitting on the side benches. you can’t help but notice the pair of matching sneakers they had on.

you watch with widened eyes as jungkook goes over to her to converse, his eyes glistening with a smile that you haven’t seen in a while.

you do not like jeon jungkook very much right now.

yerin drags you to go say hi to her boyfriend and jungkook, you get a hesitant and sly “hey” from yerin’s boyfriend while jungkook on the side spares you a glance, just one single glance, to instantly turn back to the girl, the two chatting away. oh okay, so he’s going to do this now. 

out of annoyance, you decided to cheer and clap for every other guy that is up bowling. you immediately caught the attention of one boy, he walked up to you, asking for your number with redness rising from his ears. naturally, you couldn’t reject him right now, giving your number in a swift motion right in front of jungkook. 

still no acknowledgement from him.

finding a spot next to him on the benches, you intentionally sat closer to him. he gave you one warning look before scooting to the other side.

the girl on his right seemed to notice you, sparing you a cautious look while handing jungkook a pre-opened sprite bottle- he took it easily, raising the bottle to his mouth to take a sip out of it. 

you slightly raised your arm, bumping the bottle with some strength just before his lips touched the bottle's mouth…causing a few drops to splatter out and onto the collar of his t-shirt, and his face.

as this was not expected at all, the other girl lets out a sharp gasp before pulling a pack of tissues out of her purse, and he takes it urgently to wipe the liquid off his face. you feel him turning to look at you, head cocked, his tongue poking around his mouth. you decided to play dumb, “shit, i’m so sorry kook, i didn't mean to do that.”

the girl on the other side kept calling jungkook by kook the whole time, hearing the nickname leave your mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing. you’re doing this again.

jungkook didn’t make a single sound, while yerin’s boyfriend couldn’t help but let out a chuckle out his mouth at your actions.

when he got the chance to bowl, he took it very seriously, pins knocked after pins. yerin nudges you to capture your attention: “it’s definitely because he wants to show off to someone he’s interested in.” 

you: “can’t be that blind-dating girl, can it?”

yerin: “well it’s not you…not after all that…”

you commented sourly: “she’s not his type.”

yerin gives you a knowing smile. “y/n oh y/n.”

“i know yerin, i’m being very stupid. but i can’t help it.”

you fully understand what “the grass is always greener on the other side” means now. you want what you can’t have.

the loud sound of many pins being knocked down, this is his second strike in a row- a turkey, if you will. your eyes darted towards him after the ‘STRIKE’ was displayed on the screen, but he was looking at the girl sitting on the bench, currently giving him two thumbs-ups.

he responded with a boyish smile.

and that was your cue to leave. you told yerin you felt like leaving early, and she grabbed your arm before you could go. “we’re nearly done then we’re getting dinner, you really wanna leave?” “yeah, i’m going…” you replied, uninterested anymore.

driving home, your phone buzzed many times when you hit a red light. yerin notified you that once you left, it seemed like jungkook also lost his energy to continue playing, hitting only a few pins before leaving with the girl without staying afterwards. 

an idea popped into your head, causing you to spin the wheel and turn back- to his house.

this will be the final time you’ll ever willingly go to his house if this does not work out the way you wanted.

when you arrive at the familiar door, you know he probably hasn’t gotten home just yet. you decided to wait outside. the thought that what if he brought the girl home? races through your mind as you suddenly shoot up, contemplating whether you should just hop into the elevator and go home before you vividly see that image happen in front of your eyes.

you are now facing the closed elevator, a shaky finger hovering over the “↓” button. just before physically pressing it, the ‘ding’ from the elevator pulled you back to reality from your thoughts. you watch the door open at a snail's pace, revealing the figure of one specific person- just one, thank god.

jungkook has his phone in one hand, scrolling through emails when he notices that a person is standing outside of the elevator. and it was you. his girl.

eyes meet. he holds strong eye contact, and you could look right through those brown eyes. no words were needed at this moment. the distance between the two of you closes when he hurries to unlock the door, takes your purse and throws it onto the couch, pushing you against the back of the door. everything just simply felt right. his right hand immediately found itself slightly pinching the soft flesh of your earlobe- as if it was made to rest on top of your lobe.

you seriously missed being this close to him, feeling your knees weaken as he pressed his soft lips on you, he tasted like exactly what you’ve been missing for these years. it feels almost like what you feel when you’re in love. you pulled away when bam nudged your foot, but he was more forceful than ever, lifting your chin to meet your lips with his again. you only needed to focus on jungkook at this moment.

right when your hands were finding their way into his shirt, he pulled away, gazing at you. “i got to shower first.” he said, slightly out of breath. 

jungkook rushed home after dropping that girl off, planning to take a shower before driving to your place. he had nothing to lose at this point- he doesn’t care if you know that he still remembers your address; he doesn’t care if he’s the one outside your door this time. the way he should’ve been two years ago.

but he was taken by surprise when he saw you outside his front door. 

he couldn’t keep lying to himself that he doesn’t think about you, because you’re all he’s been missing about every single day. you, you, and only you.

you couldn’t let go of him at all, scared that he’d just slip away if you didn’t have your hands on him. “we can shower together.” 

…the ‘shower’ took almost a whole hour. the bathroom echoed with your whines. many times, jungkook had to wrap his hand around your mouth, softly reminding you through his own pleasurable groans “the walls are thin in the bathroom, darl.”

carrying you to his bed, you were surprised at how effortlessly the mattress allowed him to move all over you. at first, you did not realize, but he was being way too harsh with you.

he was rough when he wanted to be, but he was never this rough?!! jungkook had no hesitation in marking you, pinching your waist when you moved in his rhythm, every single push inside of you made you feel like he wanted to pin you straight into the bed. not to mention-  your entire body has been scattered with bites and signs of his touch. you’re definitely not complaining about how perfect he felt when he mended into you, and you had to admit, he was so fucking hot when he is rutting himself inside of you out of pure desire and frustration. 

jungkook did not want to hurt you in any way, and you both knew that.

but you did not need him knowing that this was the most passionate, satisfying sex you’ve ever had. so you made the bold decision to start putting your underwear on right after the sensual fuck. not giving him any time for aftercare. 

jungkook was lying comfortably on the bed when he noticed that you wanted to leave, his quick reaction caused him to sit up, large hands holding down your waist as he pressed you back down into the mattress. his bright eyes stared at you, “where are you heading to? hm?”

“back home,” you maintain deep eye contact, it’s hard not to kiss him when his soft, pretty lips are at a reachable distance in front of you. “i obviously can’t stay the night…”

jungkook’s grip on your waist tightened, you swear you saw the light in his eyes die out almost immediately. almost a fog covers his pupils and you figure maybe you were a little too extreme with that answer. 

a delicate emotion runs across his face and he almost looks hurt when he finally gathers his words, “so…you waited outside my house…just to sleep with me?”

in that moment, you felt like the biggest cunt in the world.

you couldn’t find the right answer, if you said yes, you are the biggest cunt in the world confirmed- if you said no, you don’t think that’s a correct answer either way.

after not collecting a response from you, jungkook lets go, plopping back onto the bed, it’s almost like he took that silence from you as a confirmation of his theory. he laughs to himself, “fuck, why do i keep falling for these games you play?”

he moves his eyes away from you, to a random object in the room. “if you could’ve told me you’re real intention ages ago, we wouldn’t be like this at all, y/n.”

you close your eyes, remaining in your position on his bed. 

in the start, you were definitely in it just for a quick fuck. but it looks like you’re now in deep waters. jungkook is irresistible- and you might’ve gone way too far with this one.

“don’t say that.” you move to his side, “i seriously loved you back then.” 

“if you loved me, i don’t think you would’ve sent me off to a different city, y/n.”

“i told you it was an opportunity…i know you’d be better off if you got that job, even if we broke up, i wanted you to be successful, and not- stay in this small city…being stuck with me.” you replied, hoping he would meet eye with you again.

jungkook was tired of arguing about this. he knew the both of you weren’t the best when it came to communicating, he didn’t want to leave your city because you were in it, but he knew it might’ve been the end when he saw his name on the office announcement. he told you he couldn’t accept doing long distance, while you simply replied over text “then let’s just end it all. no matter if you go or not. let’s just end it here.” and that ruined him. 

it was almost like you just desperately wanted to get rid of him.

if only he had the balls to drive to your house to talk this out, but he didn’t. he absolutely should’ve, but he didn’t. 

“look at this! it’s painful.” he stopped in his thoughts when your head found his chest, you were pointing to the bruises he had left on your thigh. “jungkook! bruises.”

jungkook didn’t want to respond at all, but couldn’t help looking down on your pretty body. many parts of your skin were turning red from his roughness. he knew he didn’t use much strength at all, your skin was just easily sensitive. but he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften slightly when he heard your voice full of sulk. 

he spoke with a gentle tone “sorry,” while circling an arm around your waist, massaging your hips. “does it still hurt?”

“yeah.”

jungkook adjusted his position, hovering over you, he kissed every single mark he made on your body, making sure every single area on your skin was being loved. 

“what now?”

you knew exactly what he was asking about. what now? us? but you played dumb once again. “what?”

looking down at you his tongue ran over his pillow lips, he remained silent. 

“you explain the matching sneakers first.” you raised your eyebrows.

“i bought them on purpose after i saw her wearing them after friday dinner. to piss you off.” jungkook replied.

but he didn’t include the part where he rejected her blatantly the first night he drove her home. he didn’t include the part where he asked her the night before going bowling if she could help him with a favor. he didn’t include the part where the favor was to ask her if she could come and help him act to piss you off. 

you couldn’t help but let a giggle slip when he stared at you with a straight face. “okay, now i like you a whole lot again.”

after receiving a satisfying answer, a smile of relief crept onto his face, feeling his jaw unclench. “so you’re not just in it for one single fuck?” he teased.

“one won’t be enough.”

“give me an amount then.”

“i don’t know…until you’re bored of me? i guess?” you replied, intertwining your hand with his.

jungkook will never get bored of you, he thought to himself. he looked at your soft hand interlocked with his, not only will he never get bored of you, but he’ll also never let go of this hand ever again.

his other hand reached for your earlobe.

after getting back together with jungkook, you’ve realized how different this man has become over this time. 

you remember him sometimes being very unreasonable, overprotective, almost overwhelming- of a boyfriend. and of course, sometimes jealousy is cute! you get that, but he was over the top about it. but now- now this is different. 

it’s the indifferences that make a relationship cute!

occasionally you still pull a cheeky lie, telling him that you’re going home to rest- but bumping into him in a local bar. he wouldn’t be angry at all, unlike before. instead, he would drag you with a teasing smile to come drink at his table. that’s when you know you’re in for a long night back at his house.

but there was something you really wanted to talk out with him. 

one summer night, when the cold wind was blowing through his large window, you turned your body to face him- there was something that was keeping you up tonight. he felt your movement next to him, “what’s up?”

“it’s been like…two months since we got back together, right?”

“right.”

“i think i want to talk some things out.”

thank god the night was dim, and jungkook was grateful because of that, he knows the expression on his face is not very charming. if this was a face-to-face conversation, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle it. 

“yeah?” there was a hint of calmness in his voice, almost like he was forcing it. jungkook doesn’t know what to expect. he thought there would be a different result this time- he’s a different person! he finds himself desperately praying with his aching heart that this will not be another heart-shattering break-up again. 

at least, this time it's in person, right?

he was lost in panic when your hand squeezed him under the quilt. 

“jungkook, do you think i broke up with you because i wanted to get rid of you?”

was it not? the three words were stuck in his throat, but he wanted to hear your voice more than his own right now.

“well, it wasn’t. it was for a more stupid reason- not because you were clingy, and whatever you thought. i wanted you to be successful, of course. but it was all out of my stupidity, i texted that out of anger, i didn’t actually mean it. i just wanted to see if you would come find me. come talk it out. i know we both weren’t good with words.”

you lowered your voice, “stupidly, a selfish part of me- even though i wanted you to get the job- a little bit of me still wished that you would’ve picked me over that.” after your little statement, you felt a heavy rock was lifted from your chest.

the hand that you held slightly twitched under your grip. he fully moved to face you. you turned away out of embarrassment. 

to honestly admit that you love jeon jungkook, is a harder thing than you thought. 

you felt the mattress vibrate, and then you realize he was now laughing at you. “i believe everything you say, even if you lied to my face, i would trust you without a doubt, y/n.” 

“that was all my honest words!!!”

“i know. i know.” he said through chuckles. you turned towards him, embracing your urge to touch your lips with his. with muffled laughter, he moves right on top of you, locking both sides of your body with his strong thighs. 

it’s annoying how he’s still smiling….when he’s peeling your pyjamas off you.

his eyes are glassy and glowy under the reflection of the moonlight, you could get lost in them for days. 

“i don’t care what you say,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “i’ve always loved you more than you did me. y/n.”

“okay then.” you replied, not wanting to argue with the man who was currently pressing lovebites on your neck.

jungkook smirks against your neck, 

way, way more. (end)

here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!

and until next time, kae.

[heizlut]

Jealousy (part 1)

"Can you write about Aether, Gorou, Kazuha and Albedo getting jealous because the reader is not paying attention to them (like is busy that day and didn’t have time to be with them)?" (anon ask/answer)

a/n: so i kind of added a little twist to the prompt... i hope you don't mind, anon! (any extra character mentioned has a purely platonic relationship with reader with no hidden agenda, i promise!!)

cw: none! this drabble is sfw but is suggestive

tags: multiple chars x reader (separate), possessive!aether (he gets his own tag b/c he gets a lil mean with it), gn!reader, no specific pronouns used (just they/them), use of y/n (plz forgive me), not really proofread (r.i.p)

read part 2 here!

check out my masterlist here!

Aether~

You and Aether almost always took commissions together, but today was different. Kaeya had approached you personally with the hope that you would accompany him on his business trip Sumeru that he took on to help relieve Jean of some of her workload. What fully convinced you to accept was that Kaeya had told you to consider it more as a vacation with just a touch of business on the side. You happily accepted, excited to have a break and being able to spend it with someone you considered a close friend. Caught up in the excitement, you failed to let Katheryne know to tell Aether that you would be gone for awhile.

Imagine Aether's surprise when he ends up on a commission in Sumeru a day later and sees you with Kaeya at one of the taverns. Your laughter rings in his ears as though Kaeya had just said the funniest thing in the world. Aether finds himself becoming frustrated... no, jealous. Not only had you failed to let him know you would be travelling to Sumeru for who knows how long, you were also there with Kaeya. He made his way over to where you both sat, taking the seat right next to before even greeting either of you. Your eyes widen as you realize the mistake you had made when you had forgotten to inform him of where you were going and with who.

Before you can even apologize, Aether has a fake smile plastered on his face, but you're quick to notice how his jaw is tensed as he places a hand on your thigh under the table, giving it a harsh squeeze to let you know how he really felt, "Y/n and Kaeya, funny seeing you two here." The tone of his voice was saccharine and you shift a little nervously in your seat, only making Aether dig his fingers into the plushness of your thigh even more. Kaeya is quick to notice but chooses not to say anything about it, "Well hello, traveller. What brings you all the way here to Sumeru?" Aether holds that fake smile on his face as he tells Kaeya about the commission he was on and how it was oh so interesting that he couldn't find his lover who would normally accompany him. You look at Aether, a glint of possessiveness in his eyes as he steals a glance at you before looking back to Kaeya. "Apologies for whisking them away for a day. I simply wanted some familiar company around as I completed some business here", Kaeya offers a small smile. Aether hums in response, "Well then apologies for cutting this trip a bit short. I'm sure any remaining business you have here can be done without y/n" Kaeya nods in understanding, "You're quite right. Well then, I suppose I'll see you two when I return back to Mondstadt. Safe travels!" He stands up, excusing himself as he walks off toward the docks of Port Ormos. You seem to let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding as you turn to look at your jealous lover, "Aether... I'm so sorry." Aether simply tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Don't worry. You can always make it up to me."

Gorou~

Gorou was already not the biggest fan of Heizou, especially now that you were spending the day with him, having stated that you were helping him with a new case that had caught your own personal interest. It was already nearing sundown when you still had yet to return and Gorou excuses himself from the other soldiers chatting with him, now on a mission to find you and bring you back home, away from that sneaky detective. As soon as he makes his way towards the entrance of the camp, Gorou hears the sweet sound of your voice. He almost breathes out a sigh of relief only for it to get caught in his throat when he hears his own name fall from Heizou's lips in a comment that Gorou couldn't quite pick up from this distance. His ears press flat against his head as he makes his way towards both of you, moving as if he's about to enter into a battle. You smile sweetly when you finally spot your lover, beginning to raise your hand up in a wave. But your smile flaters slightly when you see a look of anger and.. was that jealousy in his eyes? Heizou pays no mind to the demeanor of the approaching general, offering his typical sly smile, "Why hello there, General Gorou~"

Gorou fights back the growl that's trying to claw its way from deep in his chest as finally stands in front of you both. He grabs your chin, turning your head at various angles as if he was inspecting you for anything amiss. When he sees that you're perfectly fine, he tilts your head up to look at him, a stern expression on his face, "I think your time spent with that detective is over." Heizou dramatically feins offense, "Oh, so now I'm just 'that detective'? I'm wounded." Gorou shoots him a glare but your sweet voice draws his attention back to you. You reach up to gently caress his cheek, looking at him so sweetly, "Gorou, I'm fine. There's no need to be so hostile. I'm sorry I was away all day. We just got caught up on so many new leads we both lost track of the time." Gorou's expression softens slightly at your words, realizing that he's gotten all worked up over something that really shouldn't bother him as much as it does. He lets go of your chin, letting out a heavy sigh as he wraps on arm around your waist, pulling you away from the detective, "S-sorry... Let's just head back to the tent now, yeah?" You let him pull you alongside him as Heizou watches you both walk away with a shit-eating grin on his face, having been quite entertained by Gorou's antics.

Kazuha~

Kazuha doesn't get jealous easily. He has always been such a laid back lover and felt secure with his relationship with you. However, you had spent almost your entire day with Thoma making sweaters for the cute little strays around Inazuma. He knows it's really such a silly thing to be jealous over, especially when you were simply helping Thoma care for the animals that most definitely deserved the love and care you both showed them. But what truly drove him to jealousy was that you seemed to have forgotten that you two had previously made plans to spend the next couple of days together before he had to board Beidou's ship that was heading for Liyue.

Kazuha did not want to interrupt you two, but the moment that Thoma had offered to knit you both matching sweaters, he felt the need to butt in. Neither you nor Thoma noticed Kazuha approaching, so of course you let out a small gasp when he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist while pressing a kiss to your cheek, "Hello, my dove. Have you been having fun today?" Kazuha was definitely making it well known that you were his and his alone. "Kazuha! I-", you stop yourself, your mouth falling open slightly when you realize that you had forgotten about your previously made plans with him. "Oh archons, Kaz, I am so so sorry. I completely forgot-", Kazuha cuts you off this time as he puts his fingers under your chin, tilting your head back just enough for him to press a deep kiss to your lips. Thoma stands there a bit dumbfounded as he watches the scene before him, a blush creeping onto his cheeks when he quickly clears his throat awkwardly, "I-i'll just get going now. I'll see you around, y/n." Kazuha hides his satisfied smirk by nuzzling into your neck.

Albedo~

Albedo hadn't seen you all day and after one of his most prized theories ended up falling apart, all he wanted to do was hold you and let his frustrations melt away. When he got back to his lab up in Dragonspine after being at the Knights of Favonius HQ all day, he expected you to be curled up reading a book with a thick blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you usually would. His soft smile faltered when he realizes that you are not there. He pauses for a moment when he sees a note left on one of his alchemy tables. Picking it up, he recognizes your handwriting instantly, 'Albedo, I am out helping Aether and Diluc over at Angel's Share. I am unsure of when I'll return, but I will do my best to be back before it gets to be too late in the evening♡'

Albedo has never quite understood human emotions, so when this strange feeling emerged and made his chest tighten, he wasn't exactly sure what it meant. Why did you have to spend the day with those two, especially the traveller? While he considered Aether to be a friend, Aether was still a traveller from another world with a mysterious aura about him, leading Albedo to wonder if he could be completely trusted. He found himself making his way back down Dragonspine and into Angel's Share. There he found you happily chatting away with the two men as you helped them organize the various crates of wine in the back. Diluc was the first to notice Albedo's presence, "Albedo, I never expected to see you here in Angel's Share. What brings you here this evening?" Albedo forces a slight polite smile onto his face, "Y/n, here left a note to tell me they were here with you and the traveller" His eyes meet yours, but there is a darker glint to them that you had never seen in your lover's eyes before especially when Aether's hand brushed against yours as he helped you set down a particularly heavy crate of wine.

Aether can't help the blush on his face as he mutters an apology to which you smile sweetly in return, letting him know it was okay. No, it most certainly wasn't okay, Albedo thinks to himself as the feeling in his chest begins to nag at him even more. He swiftly moves to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding your hand in his free one, moving it up to his lips as he presses a kiss to the top of it, "Love, I think it is time for us both to head back. It is quite late after all." His tone sounded sincere but had a hint of bitterness to it. You simply nod your head, letting your lover lead you out, but you don't fail to notice the cheeky smile he flashes back at the other two men as he raises his hand in a wave, "Have a nice evening."

a/n: i went a little feral writing these… clearly

[stromblessed]

Mizu's spectacles, and the levels of her disguise

In drafting some more Blue Eye Samurai meta posts, I find myself writing out the comparisons between what Mizu can and cannot hide about herself, and how that affects how she moves through the world.

Like, I get the jokes about Mizu's glasses, if only color contacts had existed back then, etc. etc., and I think (hope) that most viewers don't take the glasses jokes seriously, as in "I don't care about the suspension of disbelief because BES is a cartoon." But I wanted to write these thoughts out anyway without burying them in a text post about something else.

I think the points I'm going to lay out here are viewed very differently by different people, so please feel free to add to this post, reply, or put your thoughts in the tags!

Not only do Mizu's glasses not actually help her that much, there's surely more to Mizu's mixed race appearance than just the color of her eyes.

In my view, this was pointed out in episode 1:

I'm willing to bet most of us were expecting young Taigen to say "blue eyes," not "ROUND eyes."

Obviously this is still about Mizu's eyes, but not even spectacles can hide their shape.

I don't think the show is obligated to point out everything about Mizu's face that isn't quite as Japanese as the people around her expect. Though the creators have said that they specifically designed Mizu - and her clothes - to read both as "white" and as "Japanese," as well as both male and female. I think there's more about Mizu's features that read as "white" than just her eyes.

This is where my own headcanons start entering the picture, but it's my impression that people can just tell that Mizu looks different, whether or not they can put a finger on exactly how.

There's the little girl who looks at Mizu and then hides on the way into Kyoto:

When there's more to your face you'd like to cover up than just your eyes, big hats are a big help!

By the way, most of these examples have to come from the first half of the season, since by the second half, either Mizu is too preoccupied with fighting henchmen, or everyone Mizu is facing knows who she is already, and she therefore has no reason to hide her mixed race identity.

It's worth mentioning that the mere fact that Mizu has to hide multiple aspects of her identity - her mixed race and her sex - results in her having to choose clothes that really, really cover her up, which doesn't win her any favors either:

(Zatoichi reference, anyone?)

If it were as easy as, for example, tying her glasses to her head and wa-lah, nobody would ever know she was half-white - then (1) Mizu would've just done that long ago, and (2) Mizu wouldn't be so on guard and on tenterhooks 100% of the time the way she's depicted in the show, even when her glasses are on.

Her spectacles sure don't help her in the brothel, which is full of observant women who are trying to seduce her, meaning they get good long looks at her:

Mizu never takes her glasses off, but they still send a woman to her who has light eyes, thinking that must be what will interest a blue-eyed man:

No wonder Mizu gets mad after this, lol

So Mizu never takes her spectacles off in the brothel, it's dimly lit inside, and the women can still tell that she has blue eyes. I'm getting the sense that Mizu putting on her spectacles isn't a guarantee that people suddenly can't tell that she looks different.

And yet no one spots that she's female.

Mizu can hide her breasts, can wear her hair in the right style, can hide what's between her legs, can walk and talk and behave like a man - and she's been doing it for almost her entire life, to the point that not only is she very good at it, but the threat of being found out as female is deadly, but isn't presented in the show as omnipresent.

Let me explain.

She threatens Ringo for nearly saying the word "girl" out loud, because while she's constantly ostracized for being mixed race, being a woman traveling without a chaperone, carrying a sword, and disguised as a man will get her killed or flogged or arrested or some combination of these things.

But in addition, it's been drilled into her since she was a child that if she is discovered as female, the combination of her being mixed race and female will identify her as someone extremely specific, someone known to some bad people, and she will be killed:

I think of it as Mizu thinking to herself, "Being found out as mixed race means I'm treated badly. Being found out as mixed race and a woman means I'm dead."

Mizu's hair is cut as a child. But she isn't made to wear a big hat, or cover her eyes somehow, or anything like that. Because hiding her sex is a more successful endeavor than hiding her race.

Ringo finds out she's female by accident, but once Mizu accepts the fact that he won't rat her out, she relaxes pretty early on in the season. Because the threat of being found out as female is mitigated pretty much 99.9%, since Mizu has gotten so good at being a man. And also, because most of the time, people see what they want to see. Even if Mizu's face makes her stand out as "not 100% Japanese," no one in the world of BES looks at Mizu's clothes, her bearing, her sword, hears her voice, and will ever in a million years conclude that she is a woman, because expectations around gender roles in the Edo period were so rigid and so widely enforced.

One detail that proved this to me is after the Four Fangs fight:

Ringo takes off Mizu's clothes so he can stitch her up, then leaves her clothes off even after he's done. He doesn't even throw her cloak over her as a blanket or anything. There's a little a straw (pallet?) as a divider there on the left, but anyone could just peek around it and see Mizu and her chest bindings. (I think it's mostly there as a windbreaker.)

And Taigen is right there, but he doesn't give a shit:

Opinions probably vary hugely on this, but my impression is that because the show doesn't make any kind of deal about Taigen being in the room with Mizu here, my guess is that Mizu isn't in any danger of Taigen thinking she's female. Even when I watched the show for the first time, I assumed that Taigen had seen Mizu out of her clothes here, and that he thought nothing of it.

Eat your heart out, Li Shang (Mulan 1998). I actually do think that this scene is a direct and purposeful side-eye to that movie, lol

There's obviously some nuance to how "severe" being mixed race is compared to how "severe" being a woman is for Mizu:

After all, Swordfather can't bear to listen to Mizu confess to being a woman.

So a Japanese man can go wherever he wants, whenever he wants in BES. A Japanese woman has limited options: marriage, religion, or a brothel. A mixed-race man is an eyesore in this story. A mixed-race woman is a death sentence.

May as well eliminate the female aspect, and do what you can about the mixed-race aspect. Because that's just realistic.

Meaning Mizu can avoid the strictures Edo society places on women. But she can't avoid the repercussions that come with being mixed race. And I truly don't think that it's just because "there's no brown contacts yet."

[xazse]

Heyyy, I'm absolutely in love with all your writing! I read it all in one night😭 Do you think you could for more foxgirl fem reader stuff? The prompt is completely up to you, I don't want to take away from your creativity, but some smut would be greatly appreciated. . .💖

NANAMI X FOXGIRL!READER

Notes: I wasn’t sure which character you wanted so i decided to go with Nanami since that’s where the prompt came from. Btw don’t be afraid to tell me a specific prompt you have in mind, I’m not that creative when it comes to these things so I rely a lot on my followers, so don’t be afraid! Im so happy you read my stuff in one night! It makes me feel good abt writing for you guys <333

Pairings: NANAMI x foxgirl!Reader

Tags: Smut, NASTY!!, hybrid!reader, mating press, mean but soft Kento (kinda), NOT PROOFREAD!

It’s hot, too hot in fact, Kento’s body feels like it’s rising in temperature every few minutes, his dreams feel so vivid and real, a wet hot something is mouthing at his cock, but the fuzz is in his brain won’t allow him to think rationally and clearly. Kento stills before he’s sitting up quickly and ripping the cover off his lower body.

He sees your ears before anything, laid back and relaxed, you don’t even seem to care that you’ve woken him up, not when your tongue is licking him through his underwear, you’ve woken him up and now you’re attempting to tease him? You do look content, eyes fluttered shut and humming around him lowly.

Nanami grabs you by your neck and lifts you up to prop you on his lap, of course you whine and attempt to pry his hand away: it really doesn’t even hurt you’re just so over dramatic: a drama queen as Satoru puts it.

Kento grabs the bridge of his nose in irritation before speaking up, “Can I ask what you’re doing at-“ he looks at the clock on the bedside table, 4:00.

You don’t say anything but of course you pick up the hint when his head turns to the time. Being the mischievous thing you are, you begin licking at his neck, cute white tipped tail swaying back and forth behind you. A deep exhale leaves his lips whilst making no attempt to move or stop you.

You fix your body on top of him, pressing your greedy cunt over his half hard cock, hissing at the good pressure your clit received. He’s already declared when he had been woken up that he won’t help you get off at all, no matter how much you release those cute yelps in desperation.

Your hips begin to move forward and back, his clothed cock slipping in between your folds, your panties are quite bothersome but he won’t tell you to remove them either.

“Mmm..” “Ken-“ you whimpered, coaxing him to help you: it’s started now, you’ll call his name over and over until you get your way, but he’s having none of it.

“Keep going” he attempts to sound void of emotions but the grunt he lets out almost gives him away, you don’t stop grinding your pussy against him. He leans you back a bit to lift up your shirt, your nipples begging him to attend to their needs.

A hot mouth wraps around one of them and sucks, sucks so hard it has you gripping his hair, it doesn’t bother him it just adds on to the stimulation, the combo of you still bouncing against his cock.

You finally get the memo to tug your panties to the side with your free hand, and in the process pulls his cock and balls free, he hissed behind clenched teeth at the rush of cold air against it.

Kento is too big for you to take in all the way, your poor cunt just can’t handle all of him: the first time he attempted it, you could both barely breathe with the amount of times you came just from slipping in a inch every so often.

You line up his fat tip with your pussy, making sure to rub his cock against your clit a few times.

“Ngh…” the sounds coming from your throat as you slowly lower yourself down become louder with each push past his tip.

Finally are you halfway do you stop fully.

“F..uck.. mmmnn..” Nanami groans around your nipple.

His cock fills you up so good, already pressing on that sweet spot, your thighs ache from the position but that doesn’t stop your naughty body from slowly fucking yourself on him, it’s not long till he’s had enough and breaks his vow by flipping you on your back and placing your legs on his shoulders, inching closer to you he has you in a mean, mating press. He wastes no time in pulling all the way and slamming right back into you. Your mewls fill the room rather quickly, the way his cock drags against your walls has you clenching around him nonstop.

“Mhnn, Kent- Kento” you gasp out, he doesn’t acknowledge the desperate look on your face, already so close to cumming, the sounds of his grunting makes you so much more wetter. A thick hand moves itself to your tail and pinches it over and over, and the noise you let out is pornographic, straight out of a film, you’re so sensitive there.

Your clit is throbbing so bad, needy bud needing to be rubbed, you shakily move your fingers to said clit and begin moving side to side, your fingers glide across so easy due to just how wet you are, Nanami hasn’t stopped pinching the end of your nail, everything feels so good: a cock slamming into you nonstop, your fingers on your clit, and added stimulation on your tail. Your body convulses while Kento holds you still: still fucking into you, electric pulses are sent throughout your whole body, you tighten around him and finally cum, cumming with a loud scream that it’s sure to disturb the neighbors.

That doesn’t mean Kento is done when you slump and attempt to catch your breath, he sits himself up on his knees giving you a moment, not that it can be called that, pushing one of your legs towards you, he begins his pace again, you can hear better now, the room is filled with your annoying babbling and the sounds of his pelvis meeting your ass. His balls are so heavy, needing immediately to fill you up, maybe even push you over the edge one more time but he wants to extend this as long as possible, you being able to do nothing but take your impending orgasms nonstop.

[starsinthesky5]

drunk in love || joe burrow x reader

description: after a whirlwind of a few months, Joe finds himself being more open with the public about your relationship, which takes you by surprise.

a/n: im glad i could get this up in time! i think the tag needs to be filled with more positivity and the usual joey b content. we can push through :) 

requested by the amazing and extremely talented @joeys-babe, you gave me great inspo! i have also learned that i loveeee writing little flashbacks into my fics just to add more context to the situation. when I’m writing it’s like i'm painting on a blank canvas, and i'm going wherever the brush takes me :) 

warnings: smuttttt, language, angst

word count: 7.7 k

——————————————————————

The sounds of enthusiastic fans echoed as you and Joe arrived at the Fifth Third arena for Joe’s podcast taping. Joe had been asked by the Kelce Brothers to be a guest on their live podcast recording of New Heights since they were in Cincinnati, and who better to have on than the QB1? And Joe being the polite and respectful man he is, agreed to do it. You were a bit surprised he was willing to go out in front of a big crowd of people like this and just talk. He rarely did podcasts or lengthy interviews because of the anxiety they brought him and he didn’t like to share his personal life in front of thousands of people, so you were watching him like a hawk the whole night to make sure he was doing okay. 

Right now, you both were sitting in the locker room while the brothers were doing the game portion of their podcast. You were snacking on some pretzels, offering Joe some since he hadn’t eaten anything since this afternoon, but he refused. 

“Joe, you have to eat something,” you say while pushing a bag of pretzels towards him.

“I’m not hungry,” he mumbled while looking at the monitor to see what was going on in the arena. 

“I refuse to believe that. We’re going to Woodys after and we both know that you drinking on an empty stomach will cause carnage,” you giggle expecting him to laugh as well, but he continues to stare at the monitor, seemingly lost in thought. 

You look down and notice that he’s bobbing his left leg up and down and is picking at his fingers, an instant signal that his anxiety was slowly creeping in. 

You quickly place your snack down, scooch your chair closer to him, and place your hand on his thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. He felt the light touch of your hand and stopped bouncing his leg before looking over at you. 

His eyes met yours and you could easily tell that he was getting anxious by the way they turned a shade of deep blue. “Are you alright J?” you ask. 

Joe stays silent for a few seconds before letting out a sigh, “Just a little nervous,” he quietly says causing your face to drop. “I haven’t done this in a while and I don’t wanna get weird out there if they ask anything specific, you know?”. 

Joe was referring to getting weird if they asked any questions about his personal life. He never talks about his life behind closed doors and rarely talks about you in respect of your privacy. He was worried that they’d ask him about you or your relationship and wouldn’t know what to say or how to answer them. He never really threw the “girlfriend” tag around many people for quite a few reasons. One was that it was mostly implied that you were together, another being that he didn’t want people who may not have known about your relationship to bombard you with questions about him. He kept your relationship carefully locked away because it was the most important thing in the world to him and he was afraid that the world would rip it to shreds if you opened the door a little too much. He wanted to talk about you all the time, even telling you that he might not even be able to stop once he starts. But he just never knew when or how to talk about your relationship without making you sensitive to public discourse.

“You won’t get weird Joe,” you say as you rub his thigh. “It’s okay to be a little nervous, especially because this is out of your comfort zone. You are going to do great and I am so proud of you for doing this,” you say. “I’m gonna be right there, front row on the side. Orlando will be up there with you too. And I know Jason and Travis will respect your boundaries. Maybe they’ll just keep it all about ball,”.

He nods and grabs your hand and gives it a gentle kiss. “Thank you for being here,” he says, finally flashing you a genuine smile. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you say while pressing a kiss on his cheek. Joe puts his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in for a warm hug. He knew he’d be fine out there but couldn’t help but get a little nervous when he realized all eyes would be on him. Sure, in a football game, all 50,000+ eyes are on him, but that never bothered him because the game was his shield. 

“If you feel flustered, give me a look and I’ll cause a distraction for you to run away,” you giggle against his neck. 

He laughs and presses a kiss on your forehead, “My knight in shining armor as usual,”. 

A few minutes and a handful of pretzels later, you’re sitting on the side of the stage while Jason and Travis introduce Joe. The crowd erupts as they say Joe’s name and the song choice for his introduction makes you laugh like a hyena. “Get the Gat” was playing, a nod to the era that truly started it all for Joe. He was scanning the crowd for you as he walked toward the stage, eventually catching you in the front row, just like you said, in your stunning white dress that highlighted your most precious features. 

You gave him two thumbs up and mouthed “You got this,”. He gives you a big smile before walking up onto the stage and greeting the brothers. 

Things were going pretty smoothly for him. They were talking to him about his injury and recovery, his questionable tweets about aliens that got the entire crowd laughing their asses off, and some playful football + rivalry talk between Travis and Joe. He seemed incredibly relaxed up there and you felt relieved, until they changed the subject to the one thing that Joe was worried about. 

“So enough about ball,” Travis said. “What has Joey B been up to this off season. Where you been, Who you been with?”. 

“Uh oh,” you whispered. 

Joe laughed softly before saying “Just hanging around. Obviously training and getting better, some UFC events here and there, some boy's trips, spending time with family, but mostly spending time with my girlfriend,”. 

Your eyes widen at his words and your mouth slightly falls open. He just mentioned you in front of god knows how many people, and so casually? What the actual fuck. 

“Ohhh,” Travis smiles. “Is your lovely lady here tonight?” He asks. 

“Yeah, she’s right there,” Joe smiles and points over to you, causing literally everyone in the arena to turn and look at you. 

“Ayeee,” the brothers say in unison as the camera points over to you. 

Your cheeks turn tomato red as everyone starts cheering and waving at you, and you flash a big smile in return even though you were completely freaking out internally.

“Yep, that's her. She’s the best person in the entire world. I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without her support and love,” Joe says as everyone turns back to face him. “She really knows exactly how to deal with me when I’m too in my head and always shows up for me no matter what happens. I owe a lot of how I am and how I handle things, to her” he adds.

“Awww,” said Jason. 

“Especially with this injury. I seriously don’t think I would’ve been able to get through it without her. I was in a really tough spot, mentally and physically, and she really stepped up for me,” Joe says. You feel a shift in his demeanor when he says that. From relaxed and positive, to now a little tense and serious. 

The wrist injury took a toll on Joe, and unfortunately your relationship. It took everyone by surprise when it happened as Joe was just hitting his stride after recovering from the calf strain. This was supposed to be his year and when that got taken away from him, he shut down. You tried your hardest to be there for him, and he appreciated you so much. But he needed to figure stuff out on his own which caused a bit of tension between you both. And all of it got too much for you to handle; you had to deal with his emotions, your own emotions, and help him recover on top of 100 other things that were being thrown your way. 

Little arguments became common as they always would stem at the most unexpected times. Sometimes they would happen when you would check in on how he was feeling, they’d happen during a happy moment where one of you said something that didn’t land correctly, and sometimes when he would come and apologize to you for snapping at you, but you would become a child and remain stubborn even though you wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and let everything out. 

Flashback to December 

It had been a few weeks since Joe got surgery on his wrist. Ever since then, he’d been acting strangely and it was driving you insane. He was watching some film all day in his office so that he could help out at practice, so you’d hardly have seen him all day. 

You got off the couch and decided to bring him a snack, some strawberries and bananas, and made your way up the stairs. 

You made your way into his office, making sure that you weren’t getting in the way of anything. He was rewinding some footage with his left hand, but was struggling to do so since his dominant hand was in a cast. 

“Here, let me help,” you say as you place the bowl of fruit down in front of him.

“It’s okay, I got it,” he says trying to grab the mouse, but he was too late as you already grabbed it and fixed it for him. You looked over at him and smiled, but in return got a loud sigh and an eye roll. 

“Gee, I was just trying to help,” you replied. 

“And I didn’t ask for any,” he mumbled, slightly irritated. Your face dropped at his tone but you decided not to push it.

“I brought you some fruit. You skipped out on lunch so I thought you’d be hungry,”.

“Thanks,” he says as he pushes the bowl to the side and goes back to the film. 

You stand there for a few moments, debating whether or not you should leave him alone or talk to him. You decided to talk to him because this mood he’d been in was not welcomed. 

“Is there something wrong? Does your arm hurt?” You ask as you rub his shoulder. 

He immediately slams the mouse to pause the film and looks up. “What’s wrong is that you won’t let me watch the film for this week. I told you I'm not hungry and you’re bothering me,” he snaps.

You’re taken aback by his sudden anger, “I was just trying to help, Joe-”.

“And how many times have I said, I don’t need it,” he spit out. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step back. “I’m sorry, I- I just wanted to make sure you were okay,”.

“I’m fine” He said, slightly shouting as he looked back over to you. 

The tears in your eyes made their way down your cheeks as you felt more angry than sad. His attitude was unfucking called for as you were just trying to check in on him. 

“You know what, fine. I’m done asking you if you’re okay and if you need something. I get that you’re hurt. I get that this is hard for you. But do not for one second think that I’m just going to sit here and take this bullshit. You’ve been acting like this for weeks, on and off. And quite frankly, it’s giving me whiplash,” you unload as more tears stream down your face.

“Y/N-,” he interrupts.

“No. Listen to me. If me helping you is bothering you, If I am bothering you, just say the word and I’ll stop. You don’t have to tell me how you’re feeling, and I’ll just stop asking. I love you, you know that. But I’m done acting like this is okay,” you spit out, tears running down your cheeks faster than a trackstar running a mile.  

He stays silent for a few seconds so you take that as a response and nod your head. You leave his office, making your way into the bedroom and slamming the door shut. He immediately felt bad for yelling at you and making you cry. He fell back into his chair and looked up at the ceiling, thinking about how shitty he was. 

You lay down on your side of the bed, crying into your pillow. A million thoughts flooding your head, and a million emotions flowing through your body. You felt bad for him, you really really felt bad for him. But you started to feel bad for yourself because of how he was acting around you. Did you do something to make him act like this? He wouldn’t talk to you much about how he was feeling, so you were in limbo. 

You curled up into your pillow, a few tears still falling down your face as you heard the door open. Joe walked in and saw you laying on the bed, immediately feeling like shit because he did this to you. He walked over to the bed, crawling onto his side and gently rubbing your arm. 

“Y/N?” he asked. 

You didn’t look over at him and remained facing the windows. 

He let out a sigh before saying, “I deserve that.” 

“Listen, I am so fucking sorry for that. You didn’t do anything and I took my feelings out on you which was totally uncalled for. It’s just, I have alot going through my mind right now. But that is no excuse for me to do that to you, and you have every right to be mad. I’ve been putting you through alot lately and you’re just trying to help,”.

You turned over to face him and moved up. “So then talk to me, Joe?”. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay. I’m here, I’m always here,” you say as you wipe your tears. 

“I know. And I’m so sorry. I just don’t want to burden you with all my feelings,” he says.

“You could never. We’re in this together, we have been since we first met. I want you to talk to me whenever you need to. Please, do not keep your feelings bottled up like that,”.

“You’re right,” he says as he pulls you into his arms, his hand rubbing your back for comfort. “I am so so so sorry for treating you like shit. You have been nothing but helpful and patient since the surgery and my dumbass can’t seem to fathome that,” he says.

“You’re not a dumbass,” you say as you look up at him. “You just have alot going on in there,” you say as you move your hand into his hair. “Just let me in and let me help you figure it out,” you whisper.

So that’s exactly what he did. He unloaded all of his heavy feelings, self doubt, and fear onto you. And instead of running out of fear or anxiety, you stayed. You stayed and you helped him just as you said you would. 

End of Flashback 

You were holding your breaths around each other for a little bit, but luckily you got through it. It was a bumpy few months, but in the end, you got through it together and came out the other side stronger like you always do. 

“Seems like you got yourself a great lady,” Jason says, snapping you back to the present.

“I sure do,” Joe laughs while meeting your eyes, setting off butterflies in your belly. 

“So what have you guys been up to, if you don’t mind sharing? I think the fans would love to hear it,” Travis says as the fans begin to cheer.

Joe lets out a laugh and runs his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, why not. Well, we’ve gone on a few vacations, watched a bunch of movies we’ve been meaning to for a while, built some legos, and she’s taught me how to bake,”. 

The crowd lets out a laugh as he says that last thing. You were surprised at how he was being an open book right now and you didn’t know if you should be concerned at this newfound openness or ecstatic, but you were sure as hell enjoying it in the moment.

“You heard it here first, Joe Burrow knows how to bake!” They announced to the crowd. 

“Yup, it’s really not as hard as it looks,” Joe shrugs.

You let out a laugh when as says that. It really wasn’t that hard, but Joe was certainly not a pro baker as he was implying. 

Flashback to a few weeks ago 

It was a rainy evening in Cincy today, causing you and Joe to postpone your plans to walk around the neighborhood this evening. You were bored out of your mind, contemplating if you should take a nap or do something productive, but nothing sounded fun until an ad popped up on your phone for new cake pans which set off a lightbulb in your head.

“Cinnamon Rolls!” you said out loud as you just got an idea of what you could do for the evening. 

You quickly walked over to the kitchen and started pulling out everything you needed to make your famous Cinnamon Rolls, which happened to be one of Joe’s favorites, but Pumpkin Pie remained number 1. Joe was probably playing video games or watching something upstairs so you’d get to surprise him later with the delicious dessert. 

A few minutes later, you were in the zone and were starting to make the dough when you heard Joe come down the stairs. 

“Hey Babe, whatcha doing?” He says, a slight bounce in his step. He must be feeling good today, and rightfully so. He deserved to feel loose and cheerful after the past few months. 

“It’s a secret,” you giggle as you start making the liquid mixture. 

He raises his brows at you before examining the surroundings, eventually putting the puzzle together and realizing you are making Cinnamon Rolls.  

“Well, Can I help?” He asks as he walks over and hovers behind you, placing his chin on your shoulder. 

You stop mixing the Milk and Butter and look back at him, “You want to help me bake?”.

“Why are you saying it like that?” He asks as he begins pressing warm kisses on your neck. 

You stay silent for a few moments before taking advantage of his offer, “No reason. Here, let me show you how to make the dry mixture,” you say as he flashes you a big smile.

You spend a few minutes getting Joe situated with all the dry ingredients and then go back to your task. You peek over at him every few moments and although he’s making a huge mess, he seems to be doing just fine. Once you both were done with your mixtures, Joe insisted that he would make the dough in the mixer. So once again, you taught him how to use the mixer and left him to it as you started making the Cinnamon Sugar Filling. He was doing very well for someone who’s dominant hand is still not at 100%.

“Joe, this looks great!” you say as you look over his shoulder, rubbing it as you inspect the dough. 

“Yeah?” he asks, feeling proud that he was doing good for his first time baking.

“Mhmmm, just the right consistency. Very impressive for a rookie,” You tease. 

The next half hour passes by as you finish prepping the rolls. You roll out the dough and spread the cinnamon mixture across the sheet and Joe helps you roll it back up to cut the buns out. You place them in the fridge to rise and Joe takes responsibility for making the icing, so you pull over a barstool and watch him figure it out. 

“You’re doing great babe,” You smile as he begins mixing the ingredients while carefully looking at the recipe. 

“This isn’t so bad,” He says looking back up at you. “You wanna taste it? I’m almost done,”.

“Okay,” you say as he dips his finger into the icing and puts his finger out to you. A huge smirk appears on his face once you realize what he is implying. 

You pull his finger closer to your mouth and make direct eye contact for a few seconds before wrapping your lips around the sugary tip. You swirl your tongue around his finger, taking in all of the sweet icing. You both still hold eye contact, which makes you feel hot all around as you know how you are making him feel by doing this. A few seconds later, You take his finger out of your mouth and give him the same smirk he gave you.

“Was it good?” he teases. 

“Soooo good,” you purred. “Very warm, sweet, and delicious,” you say as Joe walks over to you. He grabs your hand and pulls you off the barstool, causing you to let out a squeal. “What are you doing?” you giggle.

“How long do the rolls take to rise?” he asks as he lifts you onto the messy counter, flour now covering your sweatpants. 

“About an hour. Why?” you ask as he starts to kiss your neck.

“Perfect. I think I need an hour to eat my favorite dessert,” He whispers in your ear before rubbing your upper thigh. 

You don’t follow what he’s saying, “I didn’t make pumpkin pie silly,”.  

“I’m not talking about pumpkin pie,” He says while coming back into your view, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, and his fingers untying the strings of your sweatpants. 

End of Flashback 

You were incredibly smiley and cheery for the rest of the recording and kept playing back everything Joe said about you. It warmed your heart that he felt a little more comfortable opening the door, even if it was just the slightest bit, to show fans your love for each other. But you were so curious as to what changed his mind. A million thoughts were filling your head, and it also didn’t help that he looked so fucking hot. Although he was wearing a comfy, laid-back fit, he looked mouthwatering and you were trying so hard not to jump at him. The extra few pounds of muscle he gained from his training this year was showing and that messy bedhead look he was sporting was filling your head with unholy thoughts the entire time. 

Once Joe had wrapped up his appearance, you headed back to the locker room area to find him. 

He was talking to some Bearcats coaches when you found him. No stress was apparent on his face and he looked like he was just fine. You let out a relaxed sigh as you leaned on the door, letting him have his conversation without any interruptions, but he immediately felt your presence and turned around. He mumbled something to the coaches and then they walked away. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say while moving off the door.

“Yes I did,” he says as he walks over to you, immediately pulling you closer and capturing your lips in a deep and thorough kiss. One hand cupping your face and the other sliding down your waist. You both were literally making out in the locker room and anyone could walk in at any time, but he didn’t care. He pulls away after a minute, leaving you a little breathless. 

“Cherry Lip Gloss,” He says. “My favorite,”. 

Joe loved your Cherry Lip Gloss. You remembered the moment when you both had your first kiss, he immediately pulled away from you and you didn’t know why until he told you how amazing you tasted and he had to let you know. 

Flashback to a few years ago 

You and Joe just got back to your apartment after your bowling date downtown. He parked the car in the parking lot and you both were sitting inside, wishing that the night would never end. He turned over to face you, a million thoughts flooding his head. A few being that you looked absolutely enchanting and he really really liked you. You both had been on a few dates so far, each one better than the last, and tonight felt like a dream. 

“Did you have fun?” He asked as he stared deeply into your eyes. 

“Best date ever,” you smiled. You were feeling a little nervous after tonight's date, only because you realized that you really liked him and that it wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment feeling, and you didn’t know if he really felt the same way. Was he just looking for a girl to have on his side who would take care of him during the season and be good enough to hook up with? Or did he want a girl that he could have a genuine and meaningful relationship with?

He let out a deep breath and said, “You look really pretty by the way,”. 

A blush crept up your face, “Thank You,”. 

He kept staring into your eyes as you both remained silent. He moved closer to you but you couldn’t process it because you were caught up in your own thoughts. Was he waiting for you to make a move? You both haven’t kissed yet and every date felt like it would end with a kiss, but it never did. You were all in your head about how he felt about you and you didn’t know what to do, so you thought that it would be better to just go inside and avoid the awkward moment. 

“I should probably go,” you say while staring into his deep blue eyes, but before you can grab your stuff, Joe leans in and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. You stay absolutely still for a few seconds before he suddenly pulls away. 

The blank look on his face fills your stomach with anxiety. Did your breath stink? Did he not enjoy it? Was it a mistake? You felt like hiding in a corner somewhere and never coming out. 

“Your lips,” he says. “Is that Cherry?”. 

You pause for a few seconds and say, “Yeah,”. 

“I love Cherry,” is all he says before pulling you back over to him, and completely attacking your lip with sloppy and eager kisses. You feel him grin into the kiss which immediately gets rid of your wandering thoughts. 

“You taste like love,” he says in between kisses. 

End of flashback 

He presses another kiss on your lips which snaps you back to the present. “You did great out there,” you told him. “They loved you,”.

“Yeah, it felt natural and easy,” he says as he leans back in for another kiss. 

Before you could ask him about his sudden change of heart about wanting to not talk about your relationship, a team member came over to tell you both that you’re allowed to leave and go over to the bar and that everyone would join you there in a little bit. Joe nods, wrappinh his arm around your waist, and leading you both out to the car. This newfound PDA was a little weird for you as you were walking through crowds of strangers and Joe seemed to not care. You decided not to push the subject just yet, it would be better to wait till you were alone so you could figure out what was going through his head. 

The after-party had a stereotypical College party vibe to it, and it being in a College Bar was definitely adding to the mix. Loud music and laughter, numerous cans of beer scattered across the room, and groups of people playing darts or beer pong. You felt like you were transported back to College and were drunk on nostalgia, and maybe something more. 

Joe was standing next to you, one hand firmly gripping your waist, and a beer can in the other, as you were extremely focused on the game of darts in front of you both.

“Andddd, Bullseye!” you yell as the dart hits the middle of the board. 

“Great Job, Y/N. I taught you well,” He says as you feel his hand migrate down to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze. 

“That you did,” You say as you look back up at him. Here he goes again with the PDA, not that you were upset at it. You loved it, but you were also just as confused. You watched him take another sip of his beer before breaking off to go greet a few more people. You watched as he was conversing with a group of people before he looked over at you and motioned for you to come over. 

“And this is my girlfriend Y/N,” he says as you join his side, his hand once again around your waist. You had no idea who he was introducing you to and were even more surprised that he was just tossing around the “girlfriend” tag so casually in front of people that he seems to have met for the first time. A few minutes later, you wrap up your conversation and decide to talk to Joe about what all this was about. 

“Hey Joe?” you say to get his attention. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” he responds.

“You wanna over there for a bit? I need to talk to you about something,” you say as you point over to the semi-secluded barstools in the back of the bar. He nods and you lead him over to the stools and sit down with your drinks. 

“Is everything alright?” he asks as he rubs your thigh. 

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you say as you place your hand on his. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,”.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he questions. 

“Its just, before the podcast you were getting nervous about them potentially asking you about us, and they did,”.

“Yeaahh,” he drags out as he nods his head.

“And when they did, you seemed to be just fine and were like an open book. Not to mention the out-of-the-blue PDA you’ve been showing all night,” you giggle. “I just wanna know, why the sudden change of heart? You know I don’t mind not being so open and public with our relationship, I hope I didn’t make you feel like you had to say or do something,”. 

Joe looked deeply into your eyes for a few seconds before responding. “These past few months have been pretty hard for me, and us. You know that best,”. You nod in return, now feeling a little queasy at the mention of the rough moments you had. 

“And it gave me a lot of time to think about life,” he adds as he interlocks his fingers with yours. 

“I’m tired of acting like you’re not the reason why I can do most of this, aside from actually playing football. You always know exactly how to handle me when things get too chaotic, you know how to calm me down, you help me with literally everything, but most importantly, you put up with all the bullshit that being with me brings,”. 

“Joe,” you whisper. 

“Wait, I’m not finished. You’re the most important person in my life, and it’s time I make that known to everyone. I realized that I have no reason to be worried about what others will think, I love you more than anything and people need to know that. These past few months have shown me that I need you more than I need anything and the thought of you not being by my side freaks me the fuck out. Fuck their opinion. Fuck their comments. I love you and I chose you. Opening the door just a little will not hurt and if anyone has a problem with it, screw them,”. 

You felt like crying as he said all of this to you. Not tears of sadness, but tears of relief. You were relieved that his feelings towards you hadn’t changed, as odd as that sounds. There were a few negative thoughts about your relationship that piled up in the back of your mind over the past few months, but you never confronted them out of fear. The injury did a number on you both and you were scared that you’d lose this special thing you had to something that wasn’t in your control. 

“I love you so much, Joe. I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. 

“I love you more. And good, I think if you did I wouldn’t know how to function,” he says as he pulls you off the barstool and closer to him, slowly pressing his lips against yours. His lips tasted like your cherry lip gloss and beer, a familiar mix that you would often call ‘drunk in love’. He told you during your first kiss that the cherry lipgloss you had on tasted like love, and the beer was already intoxicating itself. A mix of both felt like you were well, drunk in love.

You were caught up in a heated moment in the dimly lit corner of the bar, not caring who saw you or who cared what you were doing. Your tongues tangled in your mouth as his hand navigated to your waist, holding you tightly. He lightly bit your bottom lip, causing you to moan into the kiss. His hands continued to wander around your hips, slowly moving down to your ass. He gives it a few squeezes, pushing you deeper into him. You pulled away from his lips and said, “Do you wanna get out of here? I’m all for being a little more open, but I think we should finish this one away from public view,” you wink. 

He playfully shakes his head and lets out a laugh, “Deal,”. 

He grabs your hand tightly and leads you through the bar, giving it a few squeezes as you make your way outside. 

“We didn’t tell anyone that we were leaving,” you said as he led you down the street to the Car. 

“We’ll be fine,” he reassures you as he opens the car door for you.

He gets you situated before going around and getting inside the driver’s seat. You couldn’t wait to get home and finish what started in the bar. Once he got on the highway his hand navigated to your upper thigh, rubbing it up and down, softly caressing your exposed skin. You were already on edge from your heated makeout before and his hand being this close to where you needed him most was driving you insane. 

“Did I mention that you looked absolutely sexy tonight? This white dress is really making me feel things,” Joe says. 

“You’re such a tease,” you giggle. 

“Hm?” He questioned, acting oblivious. 

“You know what you’re doing, Burrow. Got me all flustered from earlier and now this,” you say as you pat his hand that’s on your thigh. 

“How did I get you flustered?”.

You sit up in your seat and say, “Well for starters, you looked like walking sex tonight, even if it’s a laid-back fit kinda day. Something about you in all black makes me insanely horny. Secondly, your talking about me caught me off guard but my stomach was fluttering the entire time. And then that makeout earlier at the arena and in the bar? Yeah, I’m this close to literally passing out,”. You fall back into your seat for dramatic effect as Joe playfully rolls his eyes. 

“Well then, maybe I should do something about it,” he says while looking over at you for a second.

“What are you proposing?”. 

“Just lay back and relax,” he says. So you do as he says, knowing exactly where this would lead, especially because it wasn’t the first time.

His hand moves to part your legs, and then slowly moves higher up your thigh until his fingers are teasing the edge of your panties. He moved them to the side as you let out a quiet whimper because of the newly exposed skin meeting the cool air of the car. His fingers parted your folds, finding your wetness and sliding easily inside you. The feeling was intense, the rhythm slow and gentle as he explored the depths of your desire. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his hand, needing more of his touch.

“Joe, Fuck,” you moaned as you felt pleasure overcome you. 

His fingers moved in and out of you, a familiar sensation building with each stroke. Heat and pure ecstasy were coursing through your body, your breath coming in short gasps as you reached the edge of pleasure. Joe’s thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive bud and sending you fully over the edge.

“Ohhh,” you moaned as you threw your head back into the headrest. 

You spent a few minutes catching your breath and he slid his fingers out of your core and up to his mouth, cleaning up the mess on his hand. “Sweet,” was all he said, flashing you a smile. 

You laugh and say, “Can’t wait to get home, It’s your turn,”. 

He looked over at you, pure lust in his eyes as he gripped the wheel strongly and pushed on the gas pedal a little harder. Once you got home, Joe parked in the garage and quickly pulled you out of the car, eagerly leading you through the halls of your home, not even giving you a moment to take your shoes off. 

“Joe, slow down,” you giggle, slightly holding him back so he stops. 

He turns around and stares into your eyes for a few seconds, then eyeing you up and down, before tossing you over his shoulders and leading you up the stairs. “Boy, someone is excited,” you laugh. He leads you into your bedroom and gently tosses you down against the silk sheets of your bed before slipping your heels off. He then kneels in between your thighs and captures your lips in a messy kiss. 

You slide your hands into his messy curls and pull him closer, if that was even humanly possible, as he starts to fiddle with the straps of your dress. A few minutes later, both your clothes are now on the floor and you are back to making out, ignoring the fact that his boner was poking your thigh. You would never get enough of his lips, so soft and plump, very easy to get lost in. He pulls away and presses a few sloppy kisses around your neck before moving down your body. 

You stop him before he goes further, “Wait. I told you that it was your turn next,”. 

“You don’t have to, Y/N,” he smiles. 

“Mmmm, too bad,” you say as you move out from under him, allowing him to lie back against the headboard. Once he gets settled, you straddle his hips and press a few kisses around his face, then kiss your way down his perfectly sculpted body. You reach his hard-on and wrap your hand around it, giving it a few pumps as pre-cum was beading at the tip. 

You looked up at him, making intense eye contact, as you wrapped your soft lips around the tip of his cock, feeling him twitch in pleasure. You start to move your head back and forth, going deeper each time as sounds of pleasure escape Joe’s lips. 

“Shit, you feel so good,”. 

You continued to bob your head up and down his shaft until you felt him getting closer. Your hands gripped his thighs as you took him deeper and deeper, nearly choking up. His breathing became more erratic as you sucked him harder and faster. He slid his hands into your hair as started to buck his hips into your mouth, a sure sign he was about to cum. 

“Fuckk,” he moaned as you felt hot spurts of his cum filling your mouth, making sure to swallow every drop. You slowly release him from your mouth and look up at him with nothing but love and adoration. 

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, wiping the spit and salvia off of your mouth.

“And you’re amazing,” he says as he pulls you back on top of him. You let out a soft laugh before kissing the tip of his perfectly sculpted nose. “You still up for a little more?” you ask him.

A huge grin appears on his face, “Always,” he whispers as he moves closer, once again kissing you passionately. You break away to put each of your legs around him and he grabs your waist while moving down to lie back against the bed all the way. You leaned down to press a final kiss on his lips before lining up his cock with your slick entrance. You slide down his length, soft moans leaving both your lips as the feeling of fullness feels like you’re coming home. 

You begin to move your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Your hands rested on his chest and your fresh manicure left a few marks as you dug your fingers into his tan skin. 

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You feel so fucking good,”. His hands moved up and gripped your waist, helping you move back and forth to ease the soreness that you were definitely feeling by this point. 

“Yeah,” you moaned.

“Faster Baby,” he whispered. You nodded and picked up the pace, riding him faster and harder. You could feel the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing beneath you as you moved with a steady, relentless pace. Joe started to buck his hips into your slick lower half, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Your breathy moans and sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. 

“Shit,” you moaned as he continued to pound into you. 

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered. You looked back down at him and smiled, he never missed a chance to praise you. He looked absolutely fucked out; his lips were red and swollen from the many kisses you shared, his hair askew, and a content grin on his face. The next few minutes passed by blissfully as you continued to ride him into oblivion. You leaned down, pressing your breasts against his chest, and started to bounce back onto his cock while moaning sweet nothings into his ear. His hands wrap around your back, pushing you closer and closer to his warm body. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he moaned. 

You whimpered in response as heat was building in your belly. He picked up his pace and continued to pound into your core as he felt your walls start to tighten around him. The pleasure became too much for you, so you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your screams. 

“I’m cumming, Fuck,” he moaned. You felt his hands around your waist again, tightly gripping your plush skin, as you felt him shoot his load into your core. 

“Y/N,” he groaned.

You lifted your head out of his shoulder and pulled him in for a sloppy and needy kiss to stifle his moans. You were once again lost in his lips so you didn’t even realize it but he somehow managed to flip you over so now you were laying back against the bed. He moved one of your legs around his waist and ruthlessly thrusted into your core to help you find your pleasure. Your whole body shaking as he pushed you deeper and deeper into the bed which each thrust.

“Come on Baby,” he groaned. You were so fucked out and the alcohol from earlier was finally in full effect so you had zero thoughts in your head. You just felt your boyfriend pounding into your core and the pleasure building inside your sore body. 

“Mmph, Joe,” you whined as you felt the increasing wetness between you both. Breathy moans escaped your lips as you finally felt the rubber band in your belly snap, causing waves of intense and deep pleasure to wash over you.

“Fuckkk,” you whimpered. Joe gently collapsed on top of you, making sure he didn’t crush you with his weight. He pressed a few kisses on your neck as you remained in your high.

“Joeee, Fuck, you’re so good. It’s so good,” you moaned as your orgasm came over you. You spent a few minutes coming down from your intense high and held Joe close against your body. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, telling you repeatedly how much he loved you like it was a sacred prayer. 

You felt him press a kiss on your cheek before slowly sliding out of you, causing you to shrudder at the loss of contact. He went into the bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up before getting in bed; your body was too sore and tired to get up to wash off the sweat and cum.

“Thank you,” you said as he turned off the lights and got into bed next to you. 

“No need to thank me, Y/N,” he chuckled.

“God damn, that was a workout,” you laughed as you turned over to face him. 

“My favorite workout,” he smiled as he pulled you into his side. You rest your head on his bare chest as he plays with your messy hair for a few moments. 

You looked up into his eyes and saw nothing but love and warmth. “I love you, Joe,”.

He moved his hand down to your face, cupping the side and caressing the soft skin of your cheek. “I love you so much, baby. I’m glad I get to show the world how much you mean to me. It’s you and me, forever,” he says before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“Always and forever,” you whisper against his lips. You moved back down to his chest and snuggled closer to him. You look back up for a second and see Joe falling asleep, a smile still present on his face. He was happy, you were happy. Everything was perfect. 

—The End—

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. GIRLS DEM SUGAR

It's been awhile since I'm admiring yuh tenderness

PIERCING HCS w/ JJK MEN.

ft. kashimo hajime, gojo satoru, takuma ino, nanami kento, & choso.

cw. sexual/suggestive themes, ooc characters, piercings (?).

got this idea randomly. half of these piercings i want for myself. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.

KASHIMO HAJIME. ★ back dermals

the day you brought up the piercing to him and showed him a picture, he was confused. he didn’t see the point, and thought it was a little odd just having two random pieces of metal on either side of your lower back.. but boy was he wrong.

the pretty silver of the piercing rested upon your soft mocha skin perfectly, filling those cute little venus dimples he just loved. his eyes were always on your ass in general, but these piercings just amplified it.

and don’t get him started on the back shots. you just look too good all arched, ass poked out with those shiny fucking piercings all in his face. he loves it.

oh.. you’re even prettier from behind, sweetheart.

kissing between the piercings at times, tugging down the waistband of your pants to see them, he’s obsessed and is a little irritated you didn’t get them earlier.

GOJO SATORU. ★ vertical clit hood

you’ve wanted the piercing for a while, long before you even started dating gojo— but never got around to it. however, one faithful day you decide to just say screw it, and get the piercing. your refrained from telling your lover since you wanted to surprise him.

as pretty as it was, you would definitely not get it again.

anyhow, you went home that day, all smiles though still a little sore. walking into your home, you spotted gojo seated, minding his business. you walked over, his eyes glancing up at you and your goofy smile.

one he mirrored. what’s got you so excited?

i have something to show you. you would reply, cheeks nearly hurting from how much you were smiling. gojo watched with interest as your placed your things down, settling on the ottoman infront of him and slowly, pulling your pants down. he sat up, now completely interested.

you hooked your fingers on your panties, slowly pulling them down and opening your legs. his eyes widened, leaning over and pressing a hand on your thigh.

is that real?

yep! you quickly swatted his hand before he could touch it, glaring at him as you quickly shut your legs. much to his dismay.

before you can touch me there, we have to wait eight weeks.

you nearly laughed at the distraught expression on his face, ignoring his soft buts and what ifs. most healed enough for sex around the fourth week, but given how rough satoru could be— you opted for eight.

which was hell for the white haired male. dramatically counting down the days, walking out when you changed, the whole nine yards. the amount of patience or rather restraint he had was amazing. especially since you hardly made it easier for him.

the moment the eight mark his hands and mouth are all over, caring less for the metallic taste when he’s eating you out.

and when he finally gets to fuck you? he tried to be gentle, really he did— but with him angling his hips right and your piercing is rubbing against him so nicely, well; that gentleness goes through the window.

So fucking pretty.. you should have gotten this sooner, [Name].

TAKUMA INO ★ tongue piercing

you talked to ino about your interest in piercings, specifically getting one in your tongue. the pain was the only thing holding you back to which the man assured you you’d be fine, you’re tough, you got this.

so he tagged to your appointment when it came up, holding your hand as you sat waiting for the piercer. it was kind of cute to him, watching your eyes dart back in forth anxiously.

relax [name], i’m sure it’ll be quick.

you would only suck in a small breath, forcing a smile at your lover before glancing over at the person piercing you.

like ino said it was quite quick, painful— but quick. after you were done, you took multiple looks in the mirror, flicking your tongue about in different angles to take in the piercing. you loved it, and ino.. realized he did too. far more then he should have.

throughout the healing period of four weeks his eyes would travel to your tongue piercing each time you spoke to him, a certain heat resting underneath his skin. his thoughts quickly delved from him simply liking the piercing to wanting it on him, around him, touching him. he just.. wondered how it felt.

you weren’t an idiot to his thoughts at all. purposely eating far too sensually then you should have, glancing up at him through your eyelashes with the sweetest, most innocent smile.

you finally decided to end his torture when the healing period was up, offering to complete his fantasies.

i bet you were wondering what it felt like this whole time..

what? no, no i wasn’t. ino tries to deny it, but the deep blush on his face and the way his legs were opening so naturally, well— you knew otherwise.

the moment your tongue was on him, his eyes were pinched close, large hands resting on your hand. the warmth of your tongue and the cold of your piercing was just enough, him coming in minutes.

i’m.. gonna get a piercing for you. is what he declared after such a mind blowing experience.

NANAMI KENTO ★ ashley piercing

any piercings or tattoos you had nanami wouldn’t mind, he would love them regardless. they’re a part of you and well, he loves every single part of you.

so when you wanted the ashley piercing he was all for it, declaring it’d look nice on your pretty lips. well, anything did anyway.

it didn’t take long to heal, nanami smiling at how you counted down each day, just waiting to kiss him.

and when the sixteenth day was up, your lips were planted against him. nanami of course returned your sweet kiss, though, it did feel quite different from before. similar to ino the silver barbell created a nice balance between warm and cold, brushing against his lips lightly.

it felt, nice. far nicer then he wanted to admit. but he didn’t have to, since the moment you pulled away the man is chasing after you, planting his lips firmly back onto you— as if angry you left in the first place.

and don’t get him started on your kiss down his body, it’s.. too much. his skin is growing hot the moment you kiss at his collarbone, smoldering when you reach his v-line.

nanami has to admit this is his favorite piercing yet.

KAMO CHOSO ★ nipple piercings

first & foremost, i think choso is a breasts kind of guy. likes the way they fill his hands, likes sucking on them, and likes laying on them. now with that outta of the way— when you told him ( and showed him ) you wanted nipple piercings, he was a little skeptical. one, the thought of you infront of someone bare like that made him a bit nervous and two, after researching he’s heard horror stories of such piercings. choso quickly became worried for you and while he refused to talk you out of it, he did ask if you were sure.

when you didn’t budge, choso supported you, deciding to be right there at the appointment to hold your hand. he didn’t worry about the piercer, nor you; he trusted you fully.

choso was a little discouraged when he realized he couldn’t suck or play with your breasts for a while, but knowing he could possibly hurt you made such dismay fade quickly. your comfort was more important than his fixation.

when you were finally comfortable enough, the man was continuing his usual antics; grabbing your breasts, sucking and playing with your nipples. the metallic taste took some getting used to, but that didn’t matter the moment he realized how sensitive you were now. how you twitched, gasped, and moaned but just a swipe of his tongue across your pretty nipples.

it excited choso greatly, now spending moments between sessions sucking at your breasts, being the only man to ever make you come from them alone. and having you ride him, face buried in your chest, sucking both at the same time? well, choso was in pure bliss.

so despite the waiting time taking much longer then choso would have wished, it was definitely worth it in the end

[sybaritick]

Absolutely thrilled to have stumbled across your 1972 security council rp tag. Legitimately exciting to know someone is into such a thing! If it's not too strange / personal to ask, would you be able to elaborate on what that entails and what's appealing about that specific rp for you? I'm curious but I can't quite get my head around it

I love talking about this stuff, so thanks for asking! I'm aware it's very weird but I think the reasoning behind it is surprisingly normal (in terms of how kinks develop).

I've explained this to a few friends on Discord so I will use those screenshots to assist me in this presentation.

so the backdrop to all of this is that I love to play the bad guy. As a small child in play-pretend games I would want to be the villain. I liked to be "it" during tag. As long as it's within the confines of a game/everyone knows we're just playing, I just like to be scary :)

But with this particular kink, I'm pretty sure it comes from some particular affecting experiences I had as a young teenager. I wrote my first Hetalia fanfic when I was 12 and then was very involved in model UN starting at age ~14. (I was really competitive about it and ended up even getting to a national competition once in high school, lol).

as a pretty weird teenage girl (now trans man) lot of my first experiences having crushes, or having someone else have a crush on me, were at model UN events. It let me feel powerful (because I was good at it) and I realized that having others act like I was powerful and threatening (in this ultimately harmless LARP type situation) was really hot to me.

(many such stories...)

I loved playing the US diplomat when I got to because obviously you get to play evil puppetmaster world power so I would lean into that and have fun with it.

The period of history I connected to most in terms of US interventionism was the Nixon era, just because there were so many examples during that period of the US trying to control the rest of the world. I ended up reading some Kissinger biographies (Kissinger by Walter Isaacson and Nixon and Kissinger: Partners in Power by Robert Dallek) when I was 18-19 and it really just cemented my obsession with the incredible harm he was able to cause and just how much of an affect he had on US foreign policy.

I'm particularly interested in economic coercion/the IMF and World Bank as instruments of US hegemony. Actually...

but ofc it's not just the 1970s, I like fantastical modern scenarios too:

(removed my boyfriend's name, sure it's just a first name but do they really wanna be in this post)

so yeah! tl;dr: it's a power thing, I like it in a D/s way. I got some wires crossed in my brain and "I like when people act scared of me [sexual]" became associated with "I like when people act scared of me because they're aware of the rotten machine of US global hegemony that lurks behind my words [sexual apparently]"

[sameschmidtdiffname]

heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))

But of course!!!

Wanting, Waiting

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.

Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

This page is mocking me.

The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.

Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?

'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.

I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.

Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.

For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.

Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.

A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-

"I thought we talked about this."

It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.

"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."

"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.

"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.

Except it makes me feel guilty.

"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.

Details. Fuck.

"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.

"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.

I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.

"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.

"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"

Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.

"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.

"I slept," I insist.

"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.

"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.

"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.

He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.

"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.

"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."

My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.

"It's not that serious, Mikey-"

"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.

There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.

"Michael-"

"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.

"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.

"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.

"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.

"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.

"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.

"We had a conversation," he starts.

"A conversation," I repeat.

"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.

"You ha-"

"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."

"Mike-"

"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."

Fine.

"It's fucking rude."

Not saying it's not.

"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.

I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.

"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.

"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."

Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.

"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."

"What?" I ask, blinking.

"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."

Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.

"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"

Verbally, I'm fine.

"You're going to bed, that's final!"

"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"

"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.

"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.

"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.

"Just let me write one page," I try.

"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."

"That's not going to kill me," I argue.

"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.

One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.

"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.

"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.

"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"

"Michael-"

"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."

"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'

"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."

"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.

"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.

"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.

"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"

"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.

This breaks the tension.

His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.

"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.

"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"

"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.

"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.

"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."

"Please, I don't want-"

"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.

"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.

Good.

-

When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.

I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.

He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.

"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.

There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.

But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.

I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.

So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.

-

It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.

The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.

Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.

"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.

"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."

I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.

"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.

If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.

"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."

In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.

"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.

Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.

"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.

"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.

"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.

"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.

"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."

He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.

"Mike-"

"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.

"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.

"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.

"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.

"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."

I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.

"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."

"I don't-"

"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"

"Mike-"

"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."

At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.

"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."

Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.

Just like us.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[radio-writes]

For the event, would something like this work?

"You won

I didn't deserve any of this

This will be the last time you lie to me"

But There's Something Latching Onto My Throat

300 Followers Event

Warnings: Cannibalism, minor character deaths, blood, manipulation

Tags: Alastor x reader, gn reader, relationship can be read in any way

MDNI

"Oh don't you look so cute down there, my dear. Green really is your color." It was hard not to miss the mockery in Alastor's tone as he looked down at you from the bed.

You kept your head down, hands balled into fists as you glared at the glowing green chains cuffed around your wrists.

"You really ought to know your limits, dear. And I say this for your sake, of course!" The demon continued, a red claw coming down to play with the chain. "I mean, did you really think you had a chance in the first place? You really are so cute, I could almost eat you." He laughed at his own sick joke.

Your gaze followed the chain as it swayed lightly; from the cuffs around your wrists, to the bedpost it was tied to, to the red finger it wrapped around.

You finally meet Alastor's gaze, his smile calm and mocking as he lied on the bed, feet kicking childishly in air. You could feel your blood boiling as you tried to hold your tongue.

"But no, I couldn't possibly do that to you, my dear." He didn't really seem to care that you just sat there glaring at him from the floor. "Besides, I'm still quite full, you know, having just eaten your little friends and all."

Your jaw clenched, nails digging into your palms as you tried to hold yourself back. You tried hard not to think about them. How they heard you were still alive, how they spent months scheming to try to help you escape.

How they struggled to their last breaths as this horrid man dropped them into his mouth.

"Oh, their screams of terror made such perfect tunes to accompany my meal." Alastor sighed contently. "And don't get me started, on how crunchy their bones were. Except for that heavier fellow, no, he was rather chewy—"

"Enough!"

The sound of your own voice surprised even you.

Your body had moved almost on it's own. You had stood up, yanking at your wrists. The chain pulled Alastor forward by the link he played with. 

"You won, Alastor. I get it." You hissed at him, glaring down at the demon that held you captive with as much fury as you could muster.

Alastor's eyes were wide for a moment, before he started laughing just a second later. He moved to sit up, "Now, I don't see what you're so angry about. You're the one that put your friends on the line, not me."

"The bet was if I lost I'd never see them again! Not that you would—" You tried to fight back the bile that rose to your throat, "eat them!" 

Alastor rolled his eyes as if he found your outburst to be far too overdramatic. "You weren't specific enough, that isn't my fault, my dear."

"You're sick." You snapped at him.

"And you're being unfair, my darling." Alastor said.

"I haven't ever done anything unprompted. You're the one that came to me to sell your soul. You're the one that snuck out. You're the one that insisted we make a bet, instead of just accepting your punishment." Each time he blamed you he gave the chain he held a harsh tug. "And you're the one that placed your friends' lives as prizes." 

Alastor remained sat on the plush bed, seemingly as relaxed as ever as he continued to play with the chains in his hands. "If anything, I have been more than fair to you, my dear."

You were far too close to him than you would have ever liked to be. At this distance, you couldn't even try to hide the tears that stung in your eyes as he spoke. You weren't sure anymore if it was from anger, indignation, or just the sheer overwhelming grief over all you've lost to this man.

"Fair? You've been fair to me? You sold me out to fucking Valentino, I had no choice but to beg for your protection!" You didn't even care anymore that your voice shook as you spoke.

Alastor waved a hand in your direction, as if physically brushing off your words. "I'm sure you had plenty of other options besides begging me to take your soul, but we can agree to disagree, I suppose."

You almost snarled at him.

"You've locked me up in this god forsaken radio tower for decades!" You yanked back at your hands, standing up straighter as you looked down at him.

"For your protection, of course." Alastor only smiled wider—and it sickened you.

You felt like the room was getting smaller, the air a little thinner.

"You've kept me from everyone I cared about, half the people I knew thought I was dead!" Your voice rose in volume, your heart pounded so loudly you swore you could hear each beat. 

"I thought if I behaved, if I just did what you said, if I just followed you, you'd let me go already! But I- I—" You could feel the hot blood rushing through body, every nerve on edge, every cell singing.

And then it was quiet; you couldn't feel anything at all. 

Your shoulders slump and your eyes fall to the glowing green cuffs that bound your wrists.

"I don't deserve any of this." You said softly. 

A hum cut through the silence, soft static coming back to life.

"You are correct to some degree, my darling. You don't deserve any of this pain, this suffering." Alastor said, bringing your attention back to him.

There he sat, just as he was, unbothered by your shouting.

"You don't deserve scum of the earth pretending to be your friends while they try to lure you back into Valentino's well...office." His fingers playfully danced up the chain he held. He didn't meet your eyes as he grinned down at it.

"What?" You felt just a tiny bit unsteady, his words hadn't fully sunk in yet.

"Oh, you know I'd do anything to protect you, my darling. Plus, it's my half of the bargain after all, to keep you safe and away from that stupid moth's hands." Alastor met your unsure eyes. He finally stood up, the chain clinking in his grip as he closed the space between you.

"When I heard that a group of lowly sinners planned to con my dear partner into a new contract, I didn't worry much." He leaned down closer to your height so your dazed watery eyes can see him more clearly.

"After all, I thought better of you. You had to be smart enough not to fall for something so dull. Something so poorly planned." 

He slowly walked behind you, circling around you in a familiar way that almost made you want to shrink away and hide.

"But no, I suppose that was a mistake on my part. I hadn't taken into account how desperate you had gotten for company. You'd even cling onto whores who called you every insult under Hell's hot sun."

You see your friends, smiles wide, relieved, when they first saw you again. The rumors were true, you were alive. They could free you.

"They'd never." Your voice spoke out on its own, but it was soft. So soft that you doubted Alastor even heard it.

"Oh, what was it they called you? A bimbo, a slut, a whore?" He counted off on his fingers as he went on. "I'm pretty sure they said something about you being just an entertaining hole at some point—"

We'll get you out of there. We'll keep you safe.

"They would never say any of that." Your voice was louder now, just a little bit surer.

He finally stopped walking when he was in front of you again. He brought his hand up, knuckles gently caressing your cheek, barely grazing your skin.

The touch almost snapped you back to life. His soft touches, almost loving, had never once been genuine.

He was lying.

"Oh, but they did! Believe me, I was as shocked as you were. The vulgarity of it all—"

There was a sound of metal clinking, a struggle, bodies hitting the floor.

"This is will be the last fucking time you lie to me, Alastor."

You glared at him below you, the green chains tangled and wrapped around his neck as his claws gripped at it.

"I will not let you turn me against the few people I cared about. Double dead or not." You yanked your wrists back, causing the chains around Alastor's throat to tighten.

"Why you ungrateful little wretch." Alastor snarled, his eyes had gone black and you stared down defiantly at radio dials.

"Do you really want all of Hell to hear you begging for mercy?" 

Static prickled against your skin.

The room was steadily growing darker, shadows creeping around you as you kept the demon pinned down on the floor. His antlers grew as he smiled wickedly up at you.

"Try it." You dared him, unwavering.

"And I will use every last breath to tell everyone in Hell about that pretty little collar around your neck."

You swore you heard him growl at you, felt his chest vibrating beneath your body.

You pulled at your restraints again. Alastor's claws scratched at his own skin as he grasped at the glowing metal, trying to keep it from crushing his throat.

You matched his stupid grin with one of your own. 

Sure, you absolutely might die tonight. But seeing the great Radio Demon brought down to the floor, his own leash choking him, was just the perfect parting gift.

You leaned down closer, the tip of your nose brushing against his as his warm breath washed over your skin.

"Green, is absolutely your color too, Al."