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cardierreh15 · 7 months ago

Text

Variants

This is just part one of two! Enjoy ⚡️🐺

***I do not give anyone consent to copy, translate or repost my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Angst , Mild Violence .

Pairings: Logan Howlett (Cavillrine) x Ororo Munroe also known as Storm ⚡️

Description: Ororo wakes up in another universe, she meets someone familiar…

Word Count: 4.8K

Song: Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen (but whatever your favorite version is)

Earth-811, Days of Future Present (my own twist) to Earth-199999

Side Note: Please keep in mind, this is not at all accurate and I am only writing something I thought up. Anything from how she got to this Earth from to her meeting Logan is not canon events.

Side, Side Note: Lyrics are in regular italics. Ororo's thoughts are in Italics Bold and OG Logan's voice is in orange italics.

Part One

Now I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do ya?

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing "Hallelujah”

It was a beautiful day on Earth 199999. Not a cloud to be spotted. The birds chirped and there was even a cool breeze to combat the humid air that the season had brought in on its back. But all of that was about to change.

With the bat of an eye, dark heavy clouds rolled into the view of the sun. Blocking out any rays that were toasting up some skins and feeding flowers. Violent lightning bolts filled the sky and loud thunder shook the ground beneath the feet of man. Rain beat down like rocks and the wind blew so strong, it toppled cars and pulled trees from their roots.

In the middle of that chaos, was a woman who would change the entire timeline of this world. Though, she had no idea where she was or whether she was even alive. But she was what this world needed.

Falling unconscious from the thunderous clouds, she collapsed into the pacific. Engulfed and swallowed up by the merciless deep blue. One would think that was the end of this Storm Goddess. But fate and destiny were willing to bend the rules when it came to fulfilling their name.

Upon her contact, the impact of her landing had not only caused hurricanes but water spouts that could tear up an entire island and record breaking tsunamis. Countless lives had been lost upon her ascend.

Months had passed on by and the world was slowly healing from the detrimental damage that came with Ororo’s hard landing. Reporters and storm researchers tried to get to the bottom of what could’ve caused something like this to happen so simultaneously and without warning. The UN (United Nations) had already started on their own journey trying to get to the bottom of it; if it was mutant related and purposeful. As if they give a damn about that really. On her Earth, the United States were the reason why she was here in the first place.

Ororo was found caught in a fishing net in Vancouver. She was well preserved and oddly enough, still warm to the touch. Yet, still knocked into a deep coma that not even inhaling water could wake her from.

A man, not from this plain, had noticed that she wasn’t exactly human. And if the other fisherman had suspected her of being a mutant, they’d have her shipped off to a lab somewhere in the US after they collected their reward. So, he took her back to his home in Alberta, Canada. Far away from society and where he could be himself.

The stranger would come check on the brown sleeping beauty every once in a while. Everyday in the morning before he went to chop wood to aid her fireplace and then once before sunset. She looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly pin it. She was enigmatic! And the feeling of limerence grew the longer she stayed. The way her white finely twisted dreads lay splayed out beneath her head, her thick white brows and lashes. How the shade appeared to enhance her skin and feminine features. Even in her time of nadir, she took his breath away.

Almost like a forbidden kind of beauty. The one that came with a dark past.

Those days had turned into weeks and finally a month had passed since her arrival at the stranger’s residence.

Ororo’s eyes had flashed open, white as her hair as she inhaled so much air that instantly burned her lungs and choked her out.

Sitting up, she placed her hand over her chest before gripping the linens that she wore. She wheezed as salty tears streamed down her face as she fought to breathe. Her vision blurred, her head felt so heavy and it throbbed with an achy vengeance. The words of her lover repeated in her ears.

I love you, Ororo. You don’t have to come back for me. If you find a perfect world, stay there.

She coached herself to steady her breathing as her snowy eyes had faded into something more human. Brown as the Earth’s soil. Ororo hiccuped as her awareness finally hit her like a ton of bricks. She scanned the bedroom for anything to tell her where she was. Or at least, which part of the Multiverse she had landed in.

Pulling herself from the warmth of the heavy comforters, she felt as if she’d been only asleep for a day. Her limbs and balance worked as they did when she was fleeing from the Sentinels. Though, it came with only a little bit of soreness. That was from the battering of the waves.

She whimpered as she rotated her arm to aid the soreness there. ‘Aah. Where the hell am I?’ The bedroom was a piece of paragonal work. Lots of natural light that was let in by 3 large arched windows and a large skylight window that made stargazing comfortable when night came.

The furniture was vintage; carved out of mahogany and donned with gold handles and knobs. All of the furniture was dusted clean, the mirror at the vanity didn’t see a speck or smudge. A telltale sign that someone had been in here to visit her quite frequently.

With the bedroom’s cleanliness, came no clues of where she was. Ororo began to rummage and search through the dresser drawers and the nightstand.

Breathing heavily as she felt herself growing anxious with tears filling her eyes, she felt herself falling apart.

Don’t come back for me.

Logan please.

I mean it, thundercloud. If you find a perfect world, stay there.

‘Ooh! Fuck you, Logan!’ She exclaimed through gritted teeth as tears fell from her eyes. ‘Fuck you! Fuck you!’ She exclaimed as she slammed her fists into the mahogany wood that cracked beneath her strength.

A loud thunder crack echoed outside, with a bolt hitting right outside her bedroom window.

Tiny bolts of lightning danced around her fists as she brought them up before opening her palms. The tiny bolts flickered before vanishing completely and a tear fell in their place.

Wiping her snotty nose with her sleeve, she took a deep breath and wiped her tears with her free wrist. How was she going to make it without him?

The sound of 80’s rock and roll brought her out of her misery. The same kind of music they’d listen to together on his motorcycle when times were much simpler. She used to peel the clouds out of the sky or simply push them over the next city so they could go riding.

The smell of his cigar smoke mended into his brown leather jacket. The way his thick dark hair used to fluff about in the wind and how he used to risk their lives by rubbing her arm when she held him tight.

Good times.

Ororo rushed towards the large wooden door and tugged it open with its golden knob. She was met with fresh air when she rushed outside. The sound of the music was no longer muffled by the thickness of those wooden walls. Yet it did echo and bounce off of trees in the surrounding area.

Quickly making her way down the wooden steps, she founded the calls and howls of the infamous Axel Rose. It didn't take her long to find the host; just a cut around the cabin and she was standing in front of it. Catacorner from it was a makeshift garage. Old broken down cars, motorcycles, and tires lie scattered about.

This looked just like Logan’s garage. A mess and unkept.

She felt as if this was all some kind of fever dream.

Inclined to meet the person who saved her, Ororo began to journey forward until she came across a mature and very large Fir tree that sported claw marks. She walked towards it as the fast music became a blur in her ears. She ran her finger tips over the marks.

9 claw marks but in threes. She knew only one person who could pull this off.

‘Oh my god— JAMES!’ Her heart fluttered like crazy as she sped walked to the garage and pushed the doors open. ‘JAMES!’

There he stood, back turned as he worked on his bike. He wore his classic white wife beater, denim jeans and brown boots. His skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat as he squeezed the clutch of his bike. She was sure that he couldn’t hear her over the shouting of Guns N Roses and the purr of his motorcycle, so she reached her hand up towards one of the hanging lamps and shot a lightning bolt at it.

A gleaming smile curled up on her lips with a twinkle in her eye.

That caught his attention, causing him to stand up straight.

There was a long pause before the individual reached over and turned down the old school radio that sat on the toolbox.

‘You know it’s been a long time since someone called me that.’

His voice… He didn’t sound like the Logan she knew and loved. Though from this angle, he was the spitting image. Her smile remained. ‘Wh-what do you mean we—‘

The male finally turned around to face her. But the cloud of smoke from the cigar that he puffed on, made him impossible to make out.

She used to hate the smell, now she lived for it. Craved it.

‘You still smoke those-‘

Stepping through the cloud, the individual revealed himself.

His hair was curly thick, styled up to resemble ears as if he were a puppy. The same way her James used to style his hair. He even sported that very same beard cut with the center of his chin shaved and his jaws furry.

His eyes were bright blue unlike the original Logan’s, comforting brown.

Her smile faltered as she placed a hand on her stomach and took a step back.

‘Hmm.’ The man grumbled as he reached behind him and scooped up a white dirty hand towel to wipe his hands. He held his lit cigar in his jaw before taking it out with his clean fingers.

Ororo stood there, her eyes wide in shock and confusion. Her mouth opened to ask a question but the words just wouldn’t come out!

‘I didn’t think you’d ever wake up. You seem to be walking well.’

He was the one that saved her.

‘H-‘ she swallowed, ‘How long was I out?’

Tossing the dirty cloth on the toolbox, he placed the cigar back between his lips and inhaled greatly. And when he exhaled, another large cloud of smoke shrouded the garage.

‘Well,’ he grumbled, ‘You’ve been here for about a month. I uh— suspect you have no idea what’s going on… do you?’

A month? There’s no way I have been here for a month! I stepped in that portal yesterday!

Ororo placed her hand on her neck as she felt her blood pressure begin to spike. Her body began to gently rock side to side as her stomach twisted and turned.

‘Wh-where did you find me a-and where am I?’

‘You’re in Alberta…’

Her eyes grew, ‘CANADA?!’

‘Some fishermen in Vancouver found you sleeping in a net with some salmon.’

She brought her fingers up to her temples and began to rub that spot when her head began to throb.

And right on cue, thunder roared outside.

Logan looked up at the roof as rain drizzled and created a song atop the metal. Then he looked back at her. She appeared to be fighting a migraine. And the more she fought, the heavier the drizzle became.

Then it clicked.

‘You alright over there? Need some pain meds?’ He mumbled with his cigar in his mouth.

‘Mmph! It’s okay just—.’

‘Uh-huh. Y’know, there’s been some dangerous storms going on. Tsunamis, Hurricanes, typhoons, the whole nine.’

‘Mmm.’ Ororo grimaced at the pain, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she clenched her jaw together. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘I don’t know. But, the storms started about 4 months ago.’

I’ve been here for four months?! Oh my god.

‘I think I’m gonna be sick.’ Ororo whimpered as her vision blurred once again from tears. Her chest began to heave and her heart thudded hard in her chest.

‘Oh, whatever you do just—‘

Barf. Clear bubbly flim mixed with yellow bile splattered on the smooth concrete.

‘Take that… outside. Aw shit.’

The woman collapsed to her hands and knees as he rushed over to her aid. She choked as her insides forced and fought to be on the outside. The taste of the raw acid burned at her esophagus and mouth. The rancid taste only made her gag more.

‘Hey, it’s okay.’

It’s okay, Storm. If we’re meant to be… we’ll be.

Her eyes turned white with tiny bolts dancing around them, heaving harder as she stared at the disgusting vomit.

‘You have to look away! Look at me!’

As soon as Logan snatched up her hands, lightning zapped him to hell.

Fortunately nothing that’ll kill him, but it stung like shit. ‘Aah!’ He hissed as he snatched his hands away, fanning them painfully. ‘Fuck!’

You’re my strong girl.

Ororo shut her eyes tightly as the heaving turned into a sob. ‘I can’t do this without you…’

The drizzle had turned into a heavy pitter patter. Thunder roared outside, causing the tin can of a garage to rattle.

Logan’s brows tugged into one as the burning tingling began to fade into his hand. He watched as the woman crumbled into herself.

This wasn’t tears of fear or confusion. But of mourning and grief. He could practically smell the pain exuding off of her. Logan knew what it felt like to lose someone. To be completely lost in a world that didn’t accept who he was. To be alone.

Reaching out to her, tiny lightning bolts reached out to embrace his fingertips as if they were familiarized with his energy or aura.

They didn’t burn him this time, just tiny manageable pinches. He placed his palm on her back and sighed softly.

If we’re meant to be…

His mouth parted to say something, afraid to say the wrong thing.

Ororo blinked her eyes open before looking over at him.

He was almost the exact same replica of her James. That same mean scowl that she adored greatly.

‘You’ve got blue eyes.’ She said in a hushed tone as she stared into his eyes.

‘You’re very observant.’ Logan said sarcastically with a small chuckle leaving his lips. ‘What is it that they call you?’

My Stormsy. Hey there, my lil’ thundercloud. Hang on lightning bolt! Stormy.

‘Oro—‘ she sniffed, ‘Forgive me but, I don’t think you’d be able to say my name, white boy.’ She scoffed.

Logan raised his brow, ‘Oh yeah? Try me.’

She tried to muffle her giggle but it fell through, ‘Ororo.’

His brows rose and he blinked hard once.

‘Oro—OK, do you have a nickname?!’

Ororo’s small smile from her giggle had turned into a charming grin as laughter escaped her, ‘Yeah,’ she sighed softly. He was just like him. From his facial expressions to how effortlessly hilarious he was. She was comfortable near him.

‘Storm. Just call me Storm.’

‘Now that sounds… do-able.’ His smirk curled up into a small smile before he felt a raindrop fall upon his shoulder. They both looked up at the ceiling. Another fell on his forehead.

‘Well, that would explain the weather.’ Then wiped his head free of the water and looked back over at her, then it clicked. He was a terrible host.

Her white eyes began to fade into her brown ones.

Glancing down at the barf, he then glanced back at her, ‘You must be starving.’

‘No, no. It’s OK, I’ve been too much trouble already just—‘

‘No, I insist. You haven’t ate—‘

Wrrrrr. Ororo slapped her hand against her stomach as it sang its hunger song, as if she could shut it up like a finger to a set of lips. She snatched her eyes away from his gaze and shut them in defeat.

‘Mmm. I thought so. Alright, up, up, up.’ He took his large hands and helped her to her feet. ’

Rolling her eyes at his condescending tone, she pushed herself up to her feet with his help.

‘Ya alright?’ He asked as he slowly pulled his hands away.

‘Yeah,’ The electricity vanished once again within her, ‘Thank you.’

‘Mmm,’ his head fell to the side, ‘Don’t mention it. Look, I’m gonna get this cleaned up—‘

‘James, please—‘ she paused.

He looked down at her for a long moment. ‘You’re the only one who can get away with calling me that.’ Turning away from her he walked towards the far corner of the garage.

Ororo let out a sigh and placed her hands on her hips. Were they all the same in every universe? Hardheaded and guileless. Arguments were always challenging with him.

‘You don’t have to clean up after me, I'm not some kind of damsel in distress.’

‘Well,’ he scoffed as he picked up a bucket and a mop, ‘You were just kind of sleeping beauty for ‘bouta month. I’d say you’re pretty damn close enough. Oh, and— Aurora… mind easing up on the rain until we get the food here?’

Her mouth fell before she stammered over her words. ‘We—I—‘

Wait a minute did he just call me beautiful? Damn, they are just alike.

And he left her inside of the garage to retrieve water for the bucket.

***

Ororo did not in fact keep the rain in check. Instead, when she went back into the cabin she found herself missing James more and more. But, how could she miss him when he was right outside?

Oh, she was so confused. Stuck in a whirlwind of emotions. But she had to count her blessings. Who knows what would’ve happened if he didn’t find her. She could’ve been poked and pried at beneath wandering eyes. Chopped up in itsy bitsy pieces and thrown in a particle accelerator to be sold to the highest bidder.

At least that was more humane than the chaos that ensued on her world.

A knock echoed in her bedroom and the sound of the knob twisting followed.

Ororo was bent over the vanity, checking for any oddities that the portal could’ve left her with. So far, so good. The door creaked open and she turned torso to the side.

‘Hey—whoa—‘

With her voluptuous rump in view, she rested her chin on her fist, ‘Your mama ever taught you to knock? What if I was naked?!’

‘Well for one, I did knock. And my mama, didn’t exactly raise a gentleman if you want me to be honest. Come, I’ve got Chinese.’

***

The pair sat in silence as they indulged on their take out. Ororo did her best not to inhale all of it so she ate slowly.

Logan chuckled, ‘That’s cute!’

Shit, he was on to her.

‘Mmm? What?’ She grumbled as she placed her hand over her lips so that she wasn’t spitting out food.

‘Oh nothing. It’s just you’re trying so hard not to kill all of your food. Eat! Trust me, you definitely need it more than I do.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She said as she stifled her giggle and took another bite out of her food.

‘Right.’ He snickered and took a sip of his beer.

The dining room grew quiet once again, soft thunder filled the silent void between them. Not necessarily on purpose but she was studying him. They were eating sweet n sour pork.

James hated pork. He hated the smell, the salty-ness, the texture and the tummy ache and headache that it gave him after it all. She remembers having to cave in to buying turkey bacon.

The things you do for love. The sacrifices you make.

James was also right handed. Everything he did started with his right side and eventually the left would aid it. Not that the left was as strong as the right, but when it came to swinging his claws, it always got the job done.

This Logan was an ambidextrous individual. Using both of his hands to work into his food without looking funny. It was so natural.

‘I can feel you burning a hole in my face.’ He murmured as his bright blue hues remained glued to his plate.

It was then when she finally blinked, ‘sorry you just— you just remind me of someone I—‘ she paused as her head fell into her lap.

Logan’s eyes flickered up at her for a second, reading her like a book. ‘Boyfriend?’

She remained quiet.

‘Yeah, I know that look. Sported it a few times myself. Would you like to talk about it?’

Oh she wouldn’t even know where to begin. Should she start with Mystique mercilessly murdering Senator Robert Kelly? Or how her blood contributed to the industrial process of the Sentinels that killed mutants or threw them into concentration camps? How this Logan sitting in front of her could be one of hundreds and maybe thousands of variants of her dead lover?

That was a lot to take in. He wouldn’t even believe her.

‘I—Honestly, I wouldn't even know where to start.’

‘I’ve got nothing but time.’

You take up all my time, Lightning Bolt. A punishment when I have to leave but a reward when I come back home to you.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she let out a gentle breath. ‘I’m —‘ Ororo tried to process it herself. If she hadn’t lived it, it wouldn’t have even made sense to her either.

‘This is going to sound crazy.’

‘Trust me, I’ve seen and heard crazy. There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already heard.’

He mustn’t be so sure.

Even that little comment was something James would’ve said. Verbatim.

‘Alright.’ She sat up straight and let out another breath of air, ‘I’m not from… here.’

Logan sat quietly. She had his full and undivided attention.

‘I’m not from… here.’ She repeated.

‘Oookaaaay, I think I got that the first time.’ He sighed and folded his arms together. ‘What do you mean?’

Damn it was a lot harder to say than she thought. Perhaps she try a different approach. She would talk about… him.

‘My boyfriend… he uh— he was one of a kind. Smart, goofy, sweet… he was everything I dreamed of. He uh— and his brother had it rough. His family was well off… and in most cases the mother and father weren’t around much thus, was raised by their nanny. One night, some man comes into their home and kills their father. It was then when he discovered his powers. He grew—‘

Ororo glanced down at Logan’s fist as his fingers tapped against the table cloth.

‘Claws.’ Her gaze rose to his once again. ‘He stabbed the man in hopes of getting to avenge his father… but it was then revealed to him that the stranger was in fact he and his brother’s biological father.’

Logan stared at her in complete horror. But he remained calm.

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew ya

She tied you to a kitchen chair

She broke your throne and she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.

‘What then?’ He asked before picking up his beer once again.

‘He and his big brother ran away. Fought in World War II. Years later he met me at Xavier’s School of Gifted—‘

‘Youngsters.’

‘Youngsters.’ She repeated slowly.

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head, ‘How do you— How do you know all of that?!’

Swallowing her spit, Ororo pressed her lips together, ‘I know — so much more, Logan.’

‘So what, do you read minds like Charles?!’ His voice was a little bit more stern than before.

‘Ja-Logan, it’s not like that! I—I come from a different timeline!’

His eyes grew in disbelief and he raised his hands, ‘Alright. That’s enough sweet n sour pork for you. Now you’re just talking out of your ass.’ He reached over to grab her container but she grabbed his wrist tightly. It was heavy. Just as she thought.

‘Has it ever occurred to you why or how a complete stranger would know your name?!’

‘Maybe you’ve been looking at my mail?!’

‘Your name is James Howlett! You had a brother named Liev, also named as Sabertooth—‘

‘What?!’ He chuckled.

‘You were born 1882! Here in Alberta, Canada.’

‘These are all things you can look up on google sweetheart.’ He said as he gently pulled his fist away.

‘That would make sense if I could use google in my sleep!’ She bit back. She watched as he pulled her styrofoam container away. ‘And I don’t think you added your Adamantium skeleton to the census.’

I did my best, it wasn't much

I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch

I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool ya

And even though it all went wrong

I'll stand before the lord of song

With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah

He stared at her for a moment before swallowing hard.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about? That metal doesn’t even exist.’ He added as he carried off their take out to the kitchen.

Now, she was annoyed. She folded her arms across her chest and slouched back against the wooden chair with her full lips in a slight pout. That was until she realized what he said.

‘Wait—‘ she quickly stood to her feet and walked into the kitchen, ‘I never said anything about Adamantium being metal!’

Logan opened the refrigerator to place the containers inside, ‘You didn’t? Well, it sounds like it would be metal. The “Tium” at the end of it adds the razzle dazzle.’

Ororo was growing irritated with his banter. So she snatched the refrigerator door handle and slammed it, not caring much if the food was in there properly. Her backside was pressed firmly against the cool stainless steel.

‘Hey!’ He glared at her.

‘You asked me if I wanted to talk about it and I AM—‘

‘I didn’t ask you for a damn biography on my life!’

Her head fell to the side before looking down at his fists.

‘Show me.’

Logan stepped back, his thick brows tugging into one. ‘Show you what? There’s nothing to show you!’

‘I want to see them! Show me!’

‘Lady, you’re really losing it right now.’

‘I WANT TO SEE THEM— NOW!’ She exclaimed as her eyes glowed white with lightning and she raised her hand to cast a lightning bolt at his chest.

The white electricity sent him flying back against the wall, leaving a large cave in, in its place. He fell to his hands and knees as he groaned and howled in pain. White lightning bolts danced and trickled around his torso, arms and neck. ‘GUH—AAUURGH!’

She hadn’t realized what she’d done until it was too late. ‘Oh my god! James!’ Ororo rushed over to him but stopped in her tracks when she heard the unsheathing of his blades.

She blinked away her glowing eyes as he painfully pulled himself up to his feet. Bubbles of saliva dripped from between his teeth. At his sides were those infamous Adamantium claws. They were beautiful.

She glanced up at him in caution as she began to slowly approach him.

Logan growled, taking a step back as he breathed heavily through the pain.

‘James please, I’m sorry! I know all of this sounds crazy ok? You have to believe me.’

‘B-believe y-you?! Hell, I d-don’t even know you!’ He sputtered through the pain.

The words pained her, ‘I-I deserve that. But I know you.’ She finally walked to him and reached out to wrap her small hand around his fist. Logan turned his head away from her.

Maybe there's a God above,

but all I've ever learned from love,

was how to shoot at someone who out drew you.

And its not the cry you hear tonight,

its not somebody who's seen the light.

‘In a different time— you loved me. And looking at you now…’ she placed her hand against his jaw and turned his gaze back towards her, ‘Means that I have a second chance. Think about it, you went all the way to Vancouver … you had no idea I was there but you came there for me.’

Logan stared down at her, his heaving panting began to slowly return to normal.

‘I know that you hate New Age music, I know that your hobbies include choking down cigars and chopping wood. I know that you love riding your bike on sunny days in the mountains! I know that you dreamed of living in a small cabin like this one.’ Her voice cracked as she did her best to fight back her heartbreak. He never got to see the life he deserved.

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

‘I know that you’ve moved far away to keep from hurting others. I was there, Logan.’

Ororo’s words were almost inaudible; being choked up with tears, she stared up into his eyes as she fought hard not to cry again.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

Sheathing his blades back into the safety of his knuckles, he reached up to grab her fist gently into his large hand.

‘How much did you love me—him?’

‘Oh James…’ her eyes fluttered as a thick warm tear fell down her cheek. ‘With all of my being…’

Those words ached him a little as if he knew that she did, as if he witnessed her love for him. He’d fallen in love many times. But they never amounted to anything in the end. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

Maybe—

If we’re meant to be— we’ll be.

Ororo burst into a gut wrenching sob before Logan brought her into his strong, heavy arms. He rested his cheek atop her head as she soaked his filthy wife beater.

Hallelujah.

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hsrlanedefencesquad · 6 months ago

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Y'all HSR is so good, like I don't think y'all understand. I genuinely think no one loves it as much as me

I love all the LIs, even though I might not romance them all right now, every single one of them are so beautiful physically, it's crazy....I never thought any other author could out-pretty remy's LIs lol (I think the only gripe I'd have with it, is Anna is the only single female LI....& now this addition of Abel as a male LI when we already had Boris & several male LIs, idk it seems too much. Like give the wlw players one more female LI, please aleksandra 🙏🏾🙏🏾)

Other than that, everything is perfect....my main route - I'm romancing cain, the 2nd slot goes to dmitry (he is honestly not talked about enough, he ate this update up!!!) I would rant about how much I love these two but this post would turn into an essay & I still have a lot to talk about

3rd slot goes to Greg!!! Definitely!!! Hello??? he would have honestly been my main LI if Cain didn't exist (curse me and being drawn to mysterious fucked up men 😭)

First of all, no shade to other rc black men, but I want to say a big THANK YOU to Aleksandra for not making him the typical grumpy or brooding rc black man (no, like what's up with that?, Although cassiel is my main LI in ABH, he gets a pass sorry 😭) I feel like only greg & that one guy in 7b are happy sunlight vibes black men in the whole of rc...

That and she made him so physically HOT without the addition of ridiculous european eye colours (evthys swenett jumpscare & luc- *gunshots*) & he doesn't have that oh so annoying grey undertone? (cassiel once again you get a pass) like Greg is the embodiment of a ray of sunshine. Which is also good because Sasha didn't just relegate him to some goofy black side character, no I'm actually impressed he was the main general or whatever, after dmitry & he actually has an emotional back story with his sister (I feel like his romance route will be so emotionally hard because it will be one of the major factors that will force lane to feel conflicted between humanity & her dark side) heartbreak & tears are coming, I fear

Overall the book is just SO GOOD, it deadass feels like I'm watching a horror movie or sometimes like I'm with the characters seeing everything happening to them from afar, it's so immersive....sometimes cozy AF, NGL I hope they don't move away from their snowy/dead climate background in coming seasons. I think that's a major contribution to the way the story gets players to feel

The writing is amazing for a new author, man I don't want HSR to end but I am absolutely seated for the next work from this author

#romance club #heaven's secret requiem #rc hsr #heavens secret: requiem #rc thoughts

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aclowntiny · 2 years ago

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Unstoppable Forces and Immovable Objects- Mingi x Female!Reader

Song Mingi is an incredibly special man & I hope he never forgets it 😤 I love he immensely. Pink Mingi is, frankly, a cornerstone of this year. An icon. A legend. The moment. Also shhhh I took some dorm layout liberties for this 🤫😂

Word Count: 2620 | Idiots to Lovers, Humor | Warnings: only if you're bothered by smooch talk hehe, but one note: 노래방 = noraebang aka what most of us English speakers think of as karaoke 😄

"(y/n)! (y/n)! Watch this!"

"What now?"

Completely ignoring Yeosang's interjection, Mingi continued to call for you, grin of whimsy widening when you made your way over as if he wasn't sure he'd actually see you.

Which he totally would, always, because you had the biggest, fattest crush on him, heart leaping up and hitting a big carnival bell every time Mingi sought your attention. He was the biggest ray of sunshine smiling through just about any cloud in your life.

Shuffling past Hongjoong and Seonghwa's conversation at the sidelines, you made your way back to the bouncy center of the trampoline park you'd gone with the boys to. There stood Mingi with a hand raised, waving as he bounced ever-so-slightly on his heels, the dark netting rippling beneath him.

"Let's see," you tell him with a smile, heart fluttering at his waves and jumps.

"Ok! Get ready!" Steadying himself, Mingi hunkered a bit from his upright stance, run-jumping across three squares of trampoline, hurtling himself up into the air on the fourth toward the giant obstacle pad set a little bit left of center. He did not clear it, sailing right into the side of the firm structure with a small oof.

Smacking his forehead, Yeosang took a few steps away. Yunho joined you in running toward the tall man and his unfortunate collision, asking his friend if he was ok. It looked like he almost nodded, but you met his eyes as he ended up shaking it no instead. Your eyes widened. Had it started hurting?

"Where does it hurt? Do you think you bruised something?"

"Just his ego," Yeosang muttered.

You, of course, did not want to make Mingi feel any worse, choosing not to respond to that. "Do you need help up?"

Mingi nodded, eyes still looking into yours as he held out his hand to you. Face warming, you grabbed it, unable to suppress a smile even as you pulled the big man to his feet again.

"That was really cool, though," you told him, just to see the smile return to his face, "you went really far. I bet the others couldn't get that far."

"No, they couldn't, could they?" Contagious joy indeed came back to Mingi's face. "I'm going to jump so high I finally hit the punching bag they hung! Watch me, (y/n)!"

"I will," you giggle, stepping back and bouncing in place as he goes long for a running start.

(POV: Mingi)

"This has to stop before you break anything. Don't you think there's any other way?" Yeosang cajoled, sitting down next to Mingi and handing him a freshly chilled water bottle.

Mingi, for his part, took some of the cool condensation on his hand, running it through his short pink hair to combat the sweat of exertion before frowning in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"These insane attempts to get (y/n)'s attention!"

"Insane attempts?"

"Last week, Mingi, you borrowed my skateboard and proceeded to skin your arm when you fell off the grind rail. You have never skateboarded in your life."

"I wanted her to think I'm cool," the pink-haired man responded with a pout, "she's so beautiful and awesome."

"And notice," Yeosang commented, shaking his head as black hair fell all over, "she has never fallen off a skateboard."

"Well, what do you think I should do?"

"Um, maybe consider confessing to her? Seeing if she likes you too?"

"No way! What if she doesn't even want to be friends anymore?"

"Well, I suppose that's a risk we all take," Yeosang responded, tone softening, "but if you're respectful about it, I'm sure you won't lose her completely."

"That's the last thing I want," Mingi said intensely.

"Yes, of course not, so why don't you just-"

Right then, you happened to saunter by, crossing the sidelines near the center to head to the foam pit, glancing over at the two of them with a faint smile. A gorgeous one. Mingi smiled back, tossing the water bottle his hyung gave him immediately aside and walking after you.

"Hey, (y/n), let's jump in at the same time and see who can climb back out faster!"

That's what you guys did, Mingi diving in facing the side so he could watch with a twinkle in his eye the way you flipped in. Amazing. He managed to get his footing on the way out, scrambling up not too clumsily for once, but when he turned around he saw your hands clutching at the side, floundering a bit.

His heart thudded. "Hey, you helped me earlier. Do you need me to return the favor?"

"Yes, please," you replied with a nod, loosening half your grip to take Mingi's proffered hand.

He yanked you free of the cubic foam menaces in no time, and soon you were standing right in front of him. "Guess you win," you remarked with an amused smirk.

"Yeah, I guess so, but your jump was way cooler."

"I can show you how to do it if you want, but only on one condition."

"What's that, (y/n)?"

"You keep helping me out when I get stuck."

"Of course."

(POV: You)

Jump time over, you made your way across the arena to the exit, taking the long way as you, San, and Jongho sprung across every single central trampoline. Giggling, you landed, shuffling over to the locker where the park had you lock up your shoes. When you got there, Yeosang had lowered himself onto the bench by your locker, so you dropped down next to him to lace yourself back up. Out of the peripheries of your vision, you saw him fixing you with a look.

"Really?"

You blinked. "What?"

"Fake falling into the foam pit?" He asked in response, one eyebrow raising.

"You mean the dive?" Pulling your right foot into your shoe, you fixed the dark-haired singer with a look of your own, this one conveying a lack of understanding.

Or so you thought. "No, I mean the way you obviously didn't even try to get out and the little drama performance as you feebly grabbed the sides."

"Hey, I'm not feeble!"

"No, you're just into Mingi, aren't you?"

"Because I had him help me out? In case you haven't noticed, he's pretty tall and strong, and he's so nice I really didn't think he would mind if I-"

"Yeah, you hear yourself, don't you?"

Busted. "Ok, please don't say anything, I mean there's no way he likes me back and I don't want to make things weird, so it's just something I get to live with as you guys' friend."

Yeosang just chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, man."

"What?"

"Nothing," he grabbed his bag, "just...look, I know Mingi very well, and let me just tell you he'd rather get hit by a bus than make the first move. If you're into him, the best thing you could do is tell him. Very, very directly."

Your mouth fell open. "What? Confess?" Heat bloomed across your face. "It's ok, I don't need to hear him reject me, I know we're just friends, it just...he's just...he's just so..." You trail off with a sigh.

Yeosang just elbows you, rolling his eyes lightly. "Handsome? Dreamy?"

"Shut up," you shoot back in a drawn-out giggle as you make your way to the rest of the group at the lobby, where you surreptitiously popped open the doors on one of the little ice cream coolers, sliding a bar out and taking it up to the desk to purchase. Giving people food, after all, was a flirtation method in your mind. Like hey, hello, please like me, I can feed you. You weren't sure if it worked on Mingi or not, but hey, worth a shot.

You strolled up to him, pulling the strawberry cream bar out from behind your back. "Look what I got you! It matches your hair!"

With that big, bright smile you loved, Mingi pulled an ice cream bar out from behind his back, too. "I got you an ice cream!" He exclaimed, though he trailed off as he glanced at his offering. "Though this one doesn't match your hair."

A smack sound at your back had Mingi starting and you turning around, only to see Yeosang with his face in his hand.

(POV: Yeosang)

"This is stupid."

"Oh, you think?" Yeosang, frankly, was over the moon to have someone who sympathized with him, that person being his longtime friend Wooyoung.

Wooyoung who stood at Yeosang's side taking in the very same scene that laid out before them: you and Mingi had jointly chosen a very particular 노래방 song, your favorite romantic movie duet to be exact. You two were gripping your microphones like lifelines, both absolutely belting the song at each other for the bit, key and perfect notes be darned. Your eyes never left each other's except to dart ever-so-slightly down every now and again as you grinningly deafened everyone else, whose rolling eyes you were blind to thanks to that focus on each other. Mingi let his jacket slide down his shoulders as he dropped down to really yell a note, revealing the tank top he was wearing underneath, and boy did your eye contact falter then.

"Uh, yeah," Wooyoung's eyes slid upward so hard they practically disappeared under their lids as he crossed his arms, "My God, I feel like a third wheel. Are they-"

"Deeply convinced they have torturous one-sided crushes? Yes, they are," Yeosang replied, mirroring his friend's posture.

The sputtering that followed was very satisfying to what little bit of Yeosang's sanity remained. "Wh- What? How? Can they not see themselves doing..." Wooyoung extended a black-sleeved arm, palm flat out and pointing incriminatingly at you two, who were now giggling over some dumb mic twirling contest. "That?"

"That's what friends do," Yeosang asked facetiously, falling back against the red plush bench the inactive singers sat on, "right?"

"I mean," Wooyoung commented, hands wringing, "I'd do that with you, but just with a drinking song or something, sheesh."

"And even then I'd contemplate slapping you."

"That's why I love you." Wooyoung slid a little closer to his friend with a teasing grin. "See? That's so easy, why don't Mingi and (y/n) do that?"

"Good luck, they're like an unstoppable force and an immovable object." Yeosang quickly motioned to the duo with a sweep of his open hand, directing Wooyoung's eyes off him and back to the antics, which this time consisted of Mingi trying to coolly toss his microphone and catch it, totally missing and sending it flying to the floor, making the two of you laugh.

"Is that why Mingi was practicing juggling in the dorms?"

"He what?"

"Yeah, one of Seonghwa's legos got knocked over...not a pretty afternoon."

Yeosang ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Yeah, we'd practically need to trick them into getting together to stop the carnage."

Suddenly he felt a slap to his shoulder. Starting, he swiveled his head from the Mingi-(y/n) train wreck to meet the devilish eyes of one Jung "Schemes" Wooyoung.

"Well, I think that can be arranged." Leaning in, he whispered a plan to Yeosang, who nodded and shook his hand in agreement. "Alright then! Celebratory song?"

"Sure, why not?" Yeosang replied, rising from the couch and coaxing the thrice-tossed microphones from (y/n) and Mingi. "Anything to stop the showtunes."

"Hey," you pouted, "that's a classic, you know!"

"Yeah!"

"Mingi, my friend, you've never even seen that movie," Wooyoung chuckled, wrapping an arm around his friend, who flushed.

"I can appreciate lyricism, you know."

(POV: You)

Yeosang was not letting you breathe. Ever since you admitted to liking his friend back in the trampoline park, he wouldn't stop wiggling his eyebrows at you after you brushed hands with Mingi, elbowing you and making jokes in the kitchen, and now just straight-up playing devil-on-your-shoulder telling you you needed to practice confessing.

"No, I don't," you griped back, "I've already ruined my life enough by even falling for a friend in the first place, I don't need to creep him out, too."

"Sheesh, what do you think you're going to say, that you've got names for all three of your kids or what?"

"Well for starters, how does Song Minseo sound to you?"

Yeosang looked like he was going to puke. "Oh, God."

"That was a joke!" You waved your hands back and forth wildly as if very inexperienced-ly directing a plan landing. "I was kidding!"

"You came up with that way too fast," he said, shaking his head, "but, see, it's hard to get the white picket fence if you never share how you see him, right?"

You crossed your arms. "I guess."

"You had no problem telling me how tall and strong and nice he was," Yeosang pointed out, leading you further down the dorm hall and shooting a brief look into Wooyoung's room before stopping you in his, "just say all that to him instead of me."

Your hands shot up to cover your reddening face. "That would be so embarrassing."

"I mean, he probably already knows he's tall, strong, and nice, so you should be pretty safe with that one."

"I'm not just going to say that, that's, like, basic stuff! I'd tell him how happy he makes me just by being happy himself, how he's pretty much a ray of pure sunshine and I love the way he calls my name and I can't imagine being half as comfortable with anyone else as I am with him. He has eyes, he can tell he's hot or whatever."

Yeosang got an absolutely catlike smile on his face. "And who are we talking about again?"

Glaring daggers into those pleased-looking eyes, you bit out "Mingi, you idiot! You were the one who made me admit I liked him in the first place, what do you mean who?"

Before your long-haired friend could answer, his silence starkened a not-so-subtle "Really?" from outside the door, through which Wooyoung and Mingi suddenly came barreling, the latter practically shoving the former aside to get next to you. Your eyes widened, heartbeat speeding up multiple times its normal pace.

"Yes!" Those dang sparkly eyes you wanted to stare into forever. That deep voice. Excitement in that deep voice. Mingi's gaze traveling all around your face as he reached clumsily for one of your hands, the other pumping like he'd just won a football game. "Yes!"

You couldn't take it; flushing and grinning a winning expression of your own, you felt your heart burst and soar as you stepped forward, carnival bell ringing over and over again. It rang so loud, in fact, it practically possessed you, Mingi's victorious shouts and even the way he started bouncing started to drain away in the swell of your heart, your eyes and brain only seeing him. More specifically... without a single forethought, as you did most things when you were around Mingi, your hands reached out to grab his collar, yanking him forward until he crashed into your lips, responding as soon as physically possible. Arms sliding around his neck, you picked up the pace, feeling Mingi smile and totally coming undone, knees almost buckling until you felt a hand steady you around your waist. When you pulled away, Mingi tightened his grip, keeping you in place as your foreheads connected, both of you giggling like schoolkids who got caught passing notes as you began whispering all the once-secret feelings you shared for each other.

"Hm, this might get annoying, too," Yeosang commented.

"Yeah, totally," Wooyoung agreed, leaning against the doorframe he'd just been pushed against, "but at least they'll break less stuff now."

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #mingi #mingi x reader #mingi x female reader #female reader #idiots to lovers #humor

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totallynotlx · 1 year ago

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Playing House in the Ruins of Us

You never really had control over your life from the very beginning. You are but a pawn to your clan—a means to expand your family's power. Your marriage to some noble was inevitable, set before you could walk. Meanwhile, in comes Gojo Satoru. A snobby little future head of the Gojo clan, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the world. A womanizer. Unserious. And yet, he cannot let you go, a girl who never really had any control of her destiny. You envied each other as you represented something that each couldn't have, yet he is the only escape from your cruel world… but in exchange for your sanity.

Aka, Gojo learns to mellow down… but he is not going down with a fight. And neither are you. Why would you fall in love with such a self-centered (but gorgeous) man?

Notes: Canon-divergent. Gojo adopts Tsumiki and Megumi when they're a bit older. Some events also happen a bit later on in the timeline.

A/N: Bruh, this is such a fever dream. It's been a while since I've written anything, so pardon me if I'm rusty. I blame this lanky ass white-haired little meow meow for bringing me back from the dead. We came up with the whole story in two sittings… So yeah, we know how this goes, and we planned to make it hurt. We are just your typical hurt/comfort enjoyers uwu

Tags: Arranged Marriage (Reader to someone else), Eventual Smut, Smut, Drinking Games, One Night Stands, Masturbation, Porn Video (oop), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Words: 13.3k

Ao3 link if you prefer

✦﹒chapter 1: encounters over drinks﹒✶﹒﹒

A glass clinks. A nearby clock ticks endlessly. The music is booming, but he can barely hear it with how he's feeling. He takes a swig from the amber drink from his glass, sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge, not hiding the prettiest snow-white lashes. One of the few reasons he earned a couple of stares from people around the nightclub. Except for the neon lights flashing every couple of seconds, there is no reason why a person would need sunglasses in a dark place like this… Well, an average person anyway… and he is anything but. Pristine albino white hair dangled freely on his forehead, hiding the most luminous cerulean blue eyes one will ever see. He is incredibly tall. His feet reached the floor despite the tall bar stool he was sitting on. Eye candy is an understatement to describe him. Girls would ogle from across the room, daring each other to try and talk to this man who seemed out of place. He looked almost too elegant for a nightclub. One particular girl started to make her way toward him. Her strides are confident, hair swishing with each step she took in her high heels. Unbeknownst to her, he was painfully aware of her approach, a smirk already forming on his lips. The girl sat down to his right and was about to order her drink when he called the bartender instead.

"Make her whatever she wants. My treat." The voice was almost melodic. The girl internally noted a tinge of playfulness and boyish charm dripping from his voice. "Ah, where are my manners? I’m Gojo, Gojo Satoru.” He extends his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Sleep slowly escaped from his grasp. Blue eyes slowly take in the early morning rays of the sun. The room was unfamiliar but neat, and Gojo slowly took in his surroundings. He could feel the slow breathing of the person beside him and remembered the heavy breaths and sweaty bodies giving in to pleasure and passion.

Right. That happened.

He sat up, scanning the room for his clothes. They were all over the place. Guess he had a fun night. A smirk creeps up on his lips as he slowly gets off the bed, careful not to wake up the person beside him. He slowly picks up his clothes on the floor and puts on his pants, brushing his hair away from his eyes. He picks up his sunglasses and puts them in his pockets before leaving the room. He heads to the kitchen and grabs and sips a glass of water before getting another drink and returning to the bedroom. He sets the glass on the bedside table before putting his shirt on, not bothering to leave a note before teleporting away.

In the blink of an eye, his surroundings changed as naturally as one would breathe—perks of someone with complete mastery of their technique. The penthouse apartment he owned was mainly empty except for the minimalistic pieces of furniture. Gojo Satoru wasn't the type to decorate as he didn't spend much time in this house, traveling all over Japan, sometimes even overseas, but he kept his place tidy. He drops his sunglasses on his kitchen counter and heads to the shower.

He turns the showerhead on, letting his hair get soaked as he stares at his feet. Another night, another woman. It's always the same old song and dance. Who wouldn't? In his experience, no other person has been able to resist him. A smile, a suggestive head tilt, a flirtatious conversation, and they'd be head over heels. It was too damn easy.

He continued to prepare for his day. Despite being a bit hungover, he still has responsibilities to the jujutsu world that he cannot escape from, and his day has barely started.

A loud ringing stirs your peaceful sleep, and you open your eyes just as the sun's rays pierce through the gaps in your curtains. Even the little light filtering into your room makes your eyes hurt as an aftermath of your all-nighter. Studying and practicing the law wasn't something you wanted to do, but you're already in too deep to back the fuck out. It's the weekend after your exams, and you wonder why the hell your alarm was ringing… or was that even an alarm? You drowsily fish your phone from your bedside table and realize it's not an alarm but a call.

Shit.

In the next hour or so, you try to make yourself as presentable as possible. Scouring your wardrobe for one of your formal kimonos, you tie your hair in a neat bun before heading down from your apartment. As told by your mother over the phone, your family has sent one of the family cars to fetch you. When he spotted you, the driver headed out to open the door for you. You silently got in the car, and it wasn't long before the engine started.

You were heading back to your clan's ancestral home for a discussion. A discussion you would rather not have: your marriage arrangements. Your marriage to another powerful clan's son was already set in stone when you were born. Everyone in the family was abuzz with excitement the moment you turned eighteen. Not just because it was your turning of age but because you can finally be a pawn to your clan's motives to become a more powerful, prominent clan in Japan. You scoff at the idea. If not for their offering you freedom in exchange for your obedience, you would have left long ago. Despite taking your choices for a longtime partner, they let you choose your profession. They allowed you out of the house and gave you your apartment. A small price to pay if you are being honest…

You reached the compound gates, greeted by the same old trees and rows of houses you knew growing up. As you approach the main house, you steel your nerves, looking into your phone one final time to ensure you are "perfect" before the car stops and the driver opens the door for you. You put on the bravest face as you step out of the car and into the house, taking a deep breath as you do so.

You've met your fiancé before but have yet to like him. And whenever you two were to spend time together, you both found new ways to disagree. To say that you never got along was an understatement… and to think you are resigning yourself to this fate. You two were to join families, produce children to carry on your families' bloodline, and stay together for better or worse. God, you both hated each other for no reason other than that the other represented each other's misery.

The discussion took forever, and the sun was already setting when you exited the house— as much as you were relieved it was over, the clan head's decision rang in your head loud and clear: Next spring, they said. When flowers are in bloom, they said. It'll be a beautiful wedding, they said. Neither you nor your future husband utters a word or opinion. Never looked at each other, just plastering fake smiles and nodding in agreement with whatever they recommended. You sigh as you enter your apartment, putting your slippers neatly on the genkan. You headed straight to your bedroom, eager to get out of your kimono as if it was contaminated. It was the weekend, and you're sure as hell not letting some shitty ass marriage discussion ruin your mood. You worked your ass off during the week on your studies, and it was finally time to unwind. Yes, tonight you needed release. A little bit of freedom. A little bit of control over your decisions.

In a couple of hours, you walked up to the bar of your favorite exclusive nightclub. You had no intention or plans to be there, but what transpired earlier that day warranted a night out instead of a night wallowing in your misery and sleeping it off. You ordered your favorite drink, a lemon sour, and after downing a glass or two, you danced with anyone and everyone in your vicinity.

Gojo Satoru had also seemingly found himself here. He'd made himself a little non-sorcerer friend after saving him from the malice of a curse. This guy had no way of thanking Gojo other than getting him into this club. As to how this man had exclusive rights to invite guests to said club, Gojo had yet to learn. Very peculiar, honestly. So he went. He went to drink his night away. He went to find his next delectable prey. And fate moved you to each other just as the moon pushed water to land.

After dancing for maybe an hour or so, you wanted another drink, and that was when you noticed him. This white-haired man, seemingly, gets beer as any other average person. In comparison, you get another lemon sour. You stood beside each other respectfully, waiting for your drink, when he looked at you. He hadn't entirely decided who he would devour next, but a salacious smile spread on his face when he saw you. If he only knew that he, too, was nothing but prey that night.

When you approached the bar, you noticed him immediately. And you knew you weren't the only one. It had taken every nerve in your body not to stare at this white-haired man, who stood out slightly more than the other men in the club. I mean, with that hair and those tinted glasses, who wouldn't notice him? But you'd instead break your wrist before being caught ogling him.

He slowly leaned towards you, "Such a sour drink for such a sweet-looking girl," he bent down to your ear. You shivered. His sensuous and breathy voice had you licking your lips. God, his voice is delectable. You steal a glance at this man. And you catch a hint of blue behind the glasses that sat low on his nose. Pretty, you thought, and it took everything in you to steel your nerves and discreetly clear your throat.

"You're one to talk. Your words don't match your eyes." You tell him, earning yourself a chuckle, and you're convinced that this man is blessed by the gods.

"Why? Pray tell what you think they are telling you, hm?"

"Your words are flirtatious, sweet even, but your eyes... It looks like you're already undressing me with them." You raise an eyebrow. A challenge.

Snarky, gotta love that, Gojo thought. He likes a good challenge… especially if it's worth it. And you look like you are… and if there's one thing that doesn't lie, it's his Six Eyes.

"What if I am?" He smirks, and you feel the wind knocked out of your lungs, and you can't help the heat that travels to your face. How did one sentence affect you so much? You thought you were both hunters looking for prey, but with one look, he has you feeling like you are nothing but an easy target. You swallow the lump in your throat.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?" He smirks at you before you blink the confusion out of your eyes. You immediately grab your drink and down it, hoping to give you some of your boldness back. He laughs as you down your glass and orders another. "Whoa, slow down there, hotshot."

You raise an eyebrow at him, the gears in your brain turning your mind-to-mouth filter off. "Those won't be the words coming out of your mouth tonight." You smirk.

At the moment, you wish you could have captured it. The way his eyes widened and darkened with arousal. Satoru didn't expect the spark he noticed in you was not just an ember but a full-on flame.

"Oh? Is that a promise?" He leans in closer, his face inches from yours, and you can smell his cologne.

"Hm. Maybe." You answer as your next drink arrives.

"Y'know, I never got your name." He whispers to your ear as you stare at your glass, trying to distract yourself more than anything. You slowly turn to him, meeting his eyes. Even in the dark, you can notice how luminous they are.

"Dance with me, and maybe I'll let you know."

You didn't have to say anything before he downs his beer and takes your hand towards the dance floor. The music comes and goes, and so did the both of you. You and this mysterious, handsome man alternate between dancing and drinking the night away. As time goes on, you get more and more drunk. The next thing you know, you were stumbling to the nearest hotel with him. The next couple of hours were a blur. All you know is the heat that trailed after his touches. The passionate kisses that were borderline bites all over your body. This man was unlike any other you've ever shared a night of passion with. He not only had the stamina, but he made sure that you felt every ounce of pleasure he was feeling. He was nothing short of amazing.

The morning creeps up too soon for your liking. The bed felt strange, and an unfamiliar warmth emanated from beside you. You rub your eyes with your hand when you hear a light snoring beside you. You struggle to open your eyes and can only guess you only have a few hours of sleep. When you finally open them, you see the man beside you. His face was peaceful, his breathing steady. Due to the dim lights, you couldn't notice it the night before, but he has the prettiest and longest lashes you've ever seen. So, it does match his hair… You thought like you haven't seen his—

He stirs. He reaches out to you and pulls you close, which catches you off guard. That's also when you realize that you two were skin-to-skin. It wasn't new, but sleeping beside such a gorgeous being made you conscious of yourself more than usual. You stay still for a few seconds until you feel him relax again. Exhaling a breath you didn't know you were holding, you unwrap his arm around you. You get out from under the covers and try to leave the bed quietly, picking up your clothes scattered around the room. There was a visible limp in your step. God, that man had you writhing under the palm of his hand all night, and it shows. Slowly, you tried to put your clothes back on, making yourself as presentable as possible. You turn to the en suite bathroom to wash your face and fix your hair. Walking was still uncomfortable but tolerable, and you gave the sleeping man in the bed an almost offensive side-eye.

"Fucking bastard with endless stamina." You curse under your breath with a shake of your head. You would be lying to yourself if you were to deny that last night was similar to an out-of-body experience. I'll outdo him next time, you thought, as a defeated laugh escaped you. The thought was wishful thinking as the chances of meeting this man are slim, and you probably won't meet him again. You walk and reach towards the door, opening it as quietly as you can before closing it behind you.

One ring.

Two rings.

Then another.

Gojo grumbles as the sound rouses him from his deep sleep. He stretched an arm to the other side of the bed, seeking warmth, but it was cold. Forcing his eyes open, he looked around the room but found no sign of his alluring companion.

Another ring brings him out of his reverie, and he sighs. He kicks the covers and hops out of bed, looking for his pants where his phone buzzed. He rummages through his pockets for the damned thing and sees Principal Yaga's name on the caller ID. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he presses the answer button.

"Gojo speaking~." He says in a tone that will most likely annoy the older man.

"Satoru, where the hell are you?! You're late to the meeting. AGAIN. " His former sensei admonishes.

"Yes, yes, I know." Gojo scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Gimme thirty minutes, and I'll be there." Yaga begins to argue about his attitude, but Gojo quickly ends that call. He drops his phone on the bed and sighs again.

Well, that's new. Gojo thinks to himself. That was the first time that he overslept on a one-night stand. Usually, he's the one who leaves the other person first. This was a first, even for him. He didn't want to admit it, but he slept comfortably beside that woman. He wonders internally if he'll ever find her again, but he doesn't dwell on it. The strongest doesn't dwell on the minuscule things... lest it leads to... other things. His musing is cut short as his phone buzzes. Another message from Principal Yaga.

I didn’t even get her name. He thinks, disappointedly, before he finally starts preparing for the meeting he was already late for.

The week after that felt familiar, other than the uncomfortable fact that you could still feel the consequences of your weekend escapades. Working on your studies that Monday felt like it took ages. Sure, the long hours kept you preoccupied, but you would be lying if your mind didn't wander to that gorgeous stranger you had a fun night with. It's a shame you couldn't get his name, but oh well. With your marriage arrangements finally official, meeting someone wouldn’t change a thing.

Another few weeks pass, another week of savoring the last year of your freedom before you get sold off to your fiance. By the following year, your whole life would be shifting. And that idea irks you. Your independence is closer to a sham, but at least it allows you to do whatever you want. You're guessing that after the wedding, both clans would demand that you two do your responsibilities of continuing the bloodline. You don't even love the man you're going to get married to! And they expect children from that?

I need a drink. You thought, massaging your temples as you looked over the school papers you were working on.

8:00 PM, the digital clock reads on your screen. It was still pretty early, but you felt the fatigue deep in your bones. God, you felt so tired. You stretch your back and briefly lean back on your chair before closing your eyes.

You don't remember how it happened, but you somehow ended up in your bed. In your exhaustion, you may have just crawled to your mattress. You were comfortable enough, but you could audibly hear someone else in the room with you. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you realize two things. One, your wrists are bound above your head, secured by one large hand. And two, soft lips and warm hands trailing your upper body.

"What the—"

"Shhh..." He murmurs before kissing your neck. It took your eyes a couple of seconds to adjust to the dark before you could recognize the familiar white hair.

"How—? A-Ah, how did you find me?" You manage to ask as you feel his hand travel from your side to cup one of your breasts, and you tremble at the touch, just like that night. "I didn't even give you my name—"

"Mmm..." He hums, lips sucking at your skin. You were sure it'd leave a mark. "Call it luck, but I just had to find you."

At this point, his thumb started to brush over your hardened nipple, and you let out a gasp. "Ah! Wait—"

"Such pretty noises." He comments before his lips meet yours. His hand that was massaging your nipple, now ghosted over your skin as it traveled down your body, back arching toward his caresses unconsciously.

Apart from his touches, your brain is going haywire trying to understand how this nameless man had found you. You struggle to push his advances back as you lay down helpless. His kisses lingered, and everywhere he touched ignited a fire within you. He left you panting, wanting.

"Aww. Look at you... You're already a mess, baby. And I've barely done anything." He gives you a smirk as he lets go of your wrists. His large hands grab you by the hips, and he pulls you to him.

You squirm but don't retaliate anymore. The man before you groans at your unintended movement, and he uses it to his advantage. He rubs his erection against you, and you moan.

"Yeah? Tell me. Let me know how much you want me. Show me how much you missed me."

You wake with a jolt, almost falling from your chair. Your cheeks flushed, and you felt hot all over as your heart pounded in your chest. One sentence rang in your head as you tried to steady your breathing, "What the fuck was that?"

Gojo lounges in his office lazily. His mission was shorter than expected, the curse being a tad weaker than he thought it'd be, making him available for the rest of the day. He opens his phone and looks at the time. It was almost nighttime, and surprisingly, his schedule was free. Well, he had been taking more jobs recently to let off steam and due to this it was recommended (forced) that he take a break. On his way home, his mind wandered back to that night. He remembers how her hair was sprawled on the pillow, how loud her moans were, even the sting of her nails digging crescent moons on his back as she pulled him closer, deeper .

He didn’t want to admit it, but she was the first one who kept up with him all night, and the fact that she was the first one to leave the hotel was remarkable. Especially after all he put her through. He could have kept going in the morning but knew he shouldn't because of the way she was heaving and quivering by the end of the night. God, she was gorgeous, though. She looked so good as sweat dripped down her body, and how she responded to his body was heavenly.

He shakes his head lightly as he pockets his phone after changing. He rummages through the drawers of his room, looking for one of his casual sunglasses. He didn’t need to look at himself in the mirror to know he looked good. Instead he walked past it and the empty wall behind it. It wasn’t always empty. There used to be pictures and decorations but that was another time. He’s no longer that person anymore. He leaves the room without a second glance.

"Well, whatever." Shrugging, he begins walking out of his apartment and towards the nightclub where he met you. He then swaps his blindfold for his glasses, ruffling his hair down before he teleports away.

When Gojo arrived, there were a fair amount of people—groups of people on the dance floor, a series of bodies intertwining. Some are on the lounges, drinking, talking, or making out. He notices a free spot by the bar but not one sign of the familiar face he hoped to see. Sure, he could have easily tracked you down using his family connections, but the strongest jujutsu sorcerer doesn't chase after women; women would beg to crawl into his bed every time.

He takes one of the barstools and sits. He doesn't drink alcohol often, so he orders his usual beer. It doesn't take long before his order arrives, and he takes a tentative sip before scanning the crowd again. Still, no sign of her.

Well, it doesn't matter if she's not here. There's always another. And Gojo was right. Not long after, a woman begins to walk towards him. He didn't need to, but he lowered his glasses down his nose to "take a good look" at her. He gave her a tilt of his head, and the way she smiled at him was all the sign he needed. It was always way too easy.

The case that you studied today dragged on longer than you liked. It was a difficult one that you had to pull unexpected extra hours of research, and you were rushing home to be able to change for your usual nightly shenanigans. Decided to go to a more casual bar this time as you didn't really have time to doll yourself up much, and seeing as to how stressed you are about your studies, you just wanted to let off some steam. You get out of your clothes as soon as possible, shower, put on one of your casual dresses from your closet, and bolt out of the house. As much as you didn't like yourself turning into an alcoholic, with your situation? Sometimes, a drink is all that makes you forget.

Even though it's the weekend, only a couple groups of people are in the bar. A few played tabletop games, and a couple sat on the lounges and listened to the live band. The atmosphere was just what you needed after a hard day's work. You approach the bar with plans to drink the night away.

Gojo saunters towards the bar a couple minutes after you. He surprisingly had the weekend off again. Apparently, he didn't notice that he was going on a rampage against the curses all over the city. A blessing and a curse, as per Principal Yaga. As much as he appreciates it, he doesn't want Gojo to overwork himself. He already upholds most of the jujutsu society, so he had him take the weekend off.

It was just an impulsive decision to come here. Gojo doesn't drink that often, and after last time's failed attempt to find that woman, he wasn't hopeful. He sighs as he enters the bar, eyes downcast, and he plans to stay here for a couple hours before switching to his usual nightclub. Music was already playing over the speakers, and he could hear a group cheering over some games; that's when he looked up and spotted a familiar silhouette by the bar. Any other person would doubt their eyes due to the dim lights, but unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how one looks at it), he was blessed with keen eyes in his case. His strides become more confident as he approaches the bar. He sits beside you, seeing the same drink you had the first time you met.

"Why's a sweet girl drinking such a sour drink?" Your head turns almost immediately to the familiar question. "Yo~!" He gives you a playful wave of a hand and a wink as he gains your attention. "Mister, give me a beer and another of whatever she’s having." He says before turning to you. "My treat."

You raise an eyebrow at the man before you. It's him again. "Well, if it's on your tab, I'll get some wine instead." You smirk at him.

"I see we're feeling fancy tonight," a devilish smile on his lips, "Mister! Scratch my first order. Give me a bottle of your finest wine." He remarks as he grabs the bottle and two glasses the bartender slides towards him. "Why don't we take this to a table instead? Care to join me?"

"As long as you keep supplying the alcohol," you laugh as you follow his lead.

Gojo leads you to one of the empty tables and kicks the chair instead of pulling it for you since both of his hands are occupied. You shake your head at the gesture but appreciate it anyway. He pours you a drink setting the wind down, and you mutter thanks under your breath.

You grab the bottle and pour him a glass, as well. "So, what brought you here tonight?" He asks, breaking the silence. You look at him for a few seconds before shaking your head no. You take a gulp of wine, and the man before you chuckles as he watches.

"That bad you don't even want to share, huh? Alright, keep your secrets," he says with a smirk before taking a sip from his own glass.

You sit there in silence before he breaks the ice again. "You come here often?"

"After a stressful day at school? Absolutely." You scoff, swirling the drink in your hand.

"Hmm..." He raises an eyebrow at you.

"Enough about me." You wave him off before he can even ask another question. "What brought you here tonight?"

"I usually hit the bars first before I—" He cuts himself off. Before I go to the nightclub and find a woman to bed tonight.

"What? Say it, where are you going?" You challenge.

"Nah, nothing important. And, no place is as interesting as here right now." He smirks, and it almost makes you blush. "But I digress. What's got you drinking so much this late in the evening?"

You give off a sound between a scoff and a laugh. "What is this? 21 questions?"

A mischievous grin spreads at that thought. "You know, that's not a bad suggestion." He comments. "But maybe we could switch the wine for some harder liquor for that. What do you think?"

"I'm not saying no to a free drink." You shrug as you finish your glass of wine. He smirks and gestures to order a bottle of shochu.

"Alright, you can start since you didn't answer my first question." He gives you a mock pout, and you can only laugh at him.

"That's very kind of you." You tell him as you start thinking about what questions to ask this mysterious man. "Okay, I got one."

"Shoot."

"What's the worst date you've ever been on?"

"Never been on one." And you look at him with disbelief. "No one wants to hang out long enough for that. It's always the bedroom." He shrugs.

"No fucking way. How the hell have you not been on dates?" With that face and all. But you keep that last thought to yourself.

"Hey, you only get one question. Drink." And so you drink a shot, the burning sensation of the alcohol lingering in your throat. "My turn." It takes him a few seconds before he asks, "Are you a cat person, a dog person, or something else?"

"Definitely a cat person. Not that I ever had one."

"Really? I thought you'd be a dog person."

"Ah, ah, my turn now." He gestures for you to continue. "What do you do for work?" Without hesitation, he drinks, and you give him a sideways glance. "Alright, keep your secrets then. " You tell him as he chuckles.

"Do you like coffee or tea better?" He shoots you his next question.

"Coffee, the more bitter it is, the better. And you?"

"Tea, but very sweet."

"I never thought you to have a sweet tooth." You remark as he shrugs once again.

"My turn. Why are you single? Or at least I'm guessing you are..."

Well, that's a no-brainer. You mentally thought before taking a shot.

"Alright,” he lets out a laugh at how quickly you avoided that question, “Moving on then." He comments as he braces himself to be asked the same thing, but the question never comes. Instead, he finds you deep in thought for your next question. Huh.

"What's your love language?"

"Hmm..." He takes a second to think. "I'm not too sure."

You gesture to his glass. "You gotta drink." And so he does, and you watch as he downs a shot, eyes wandering to his throat as his Adam's apple bobs as he drinks.

He sets down his glass and pours you another. "Alright, my next question... What are you most proud of yourself for?"

Gojo's watchful eyes fell on you as you answered the question silently and drank without reluctance, the alcohol going down smoothly now that you've had a couple shots. You came here tonight to rid yourself of your problems, not to think of them.

"Oh, it's like that then."

"Shh. My turn." You shush him as you pour him another. "Have you ever had your heart broken?"

He drinks, and you mockingly scoff at him. "Are we just going to avoid all the difficult questions then?"

He smirks at you as he finishes his glass. "Double question~." He says in an almost sing-song manner as he pours you another shot, motioning for you to drink. You purse your lips together in mock irritation before drinking anyway.

"My turn again." He says as he pointedly looks at you. "How do you like to spend your free time? Or rather, what's a perfect day for you?"

You think long and hard about your answer. Given your situation, your home life could be better. You've never known "normal," even as a kid, not when you were raised as your family's pawn. You sigh before you drink. Again.

"You gotta be kidding." He looks at you inquisitively. "There's no way you don't know what a perfect day is for you... Do you mean to say our little night of mischief a couple weeks ago wasn't ideal for you?"

You shake your head with a chuckle but don't say anything. Sure, you usually end up in other men's beds during your nightly adventures, but it's not really something you would consider perfect. You gesture to his glass. "Double question. Drink."

He puts his hands up in surrender before downing another shot. You can feel that the drinks are starting to affect you, and you feel lightheaded, but in a way that you don't remember why you were drinking in the first place. It was like the first day you met him. He made it easy to forget everything other than the now. You internally thank fate for this mysterious white-haired man with pretty blue eyes who kept you company. Ah.

"What's your favorite thing about yourself?" You blurt the question after that line of thought.

He laughs heartily. "My face." He says without any doubt, which makes you look at him in disdain. "What? At least it gets me laid." He adds as he wiggles his eyebrows at you with the same boyish smile you remember from your first meeting. The same smile he gave you in your fever dream of him, the smile that hinted that he was up to no good. Oh god... You look away, but you know it is too late. You felt your cheeks heat up, your eyes widening as if you were a child caught stealing candy from a jar. "Oh! So you agree!" He notes with such excitement, trying to steal a look at your face as you look away.

"Oh, shut up!" You pushed him away, but really, it was understandable.

"Aww, you're no fun~" He sounds sulking but settles down before asking his next question. "Fine. My question. Where would you go if you could go anywhere?"

That makes you pause and consider. "I'm not sure. I've never really thought about that. I've never been too far out of the city." Not with your family holding you by the neck.

"Tsk tsk," he waves an admonishing finger at you, "drink. That's such an ambiguous answer."

You fidget with your glass before you down your shot. You can barely feel the aftertaste of the alcohol with how much you have drunk. "My turn. Who is the most important person in your life?"

With no hesitation, he drinks.

You look at him in a bit of a shock. His eyes look somewhat distant than it was a second ago. "We should probably start hitting the harder stuff, huh?" You suggest as you try to reel him back to reality.

"Agreed. Especially if you keep asking these types of questions..." He shakes his head with a defeated laugh. Shortly, he stood up and ordered another bottle of drinks from the bartender. As he approaches, you recognize the bottle of whisky in his hands.

Well then.

He opens the bottle and pours you a glass before settling down in his chair again. "Oh! I got a good one."

"Go for it."

"Have you ever cheated on anything or anyone?"

You take a second to think. You think about your marriage arrangements... Is it still considered cheating when you've never been with your fiance? You don't even have that kind of feelings for each other. Ah, shit. Internally, you erase the thoughts as quickly as they came and drink instead.

He gives you a sideways glance. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Stop asking double questions. Drink." You scold him with a subtle slap on his arm. "But to be fair, that's karma for the last question." He rolls his eyes playfully as he downs another shot.

You lean into the table as you hold your glass in your hand, trying to get a good look at this mysterious stranger's face before presenting your next question. "What would you change if you could go back in time and do something differently?"

A look of sentimentality bleeds into his eyes, and Gojo briefly thinks of Amanai. There wasn't a mission after that where he didn't think of how much better he could have handled things. Okay, nope, not tonight. "You're asking some real tough ones, huh? But unfortunately for you, I'm not answering that either." He says before taking a swig.

"Whatever." You say with a laugh and drink with him anyway as the alcohol starts to cloud your mind.

"Have you ever failed at something?" He asks, swirling the drink in his glass.

Not even a split second later, you find yourself chugging your drink. You think about your situation, and even though you have your current freedom, your family still controls most of your life. Well, it's not that you failed to get your liberty entirely. Still, you didn't succeed either... and you don't plan on elaborating on that tonight. Meanwhile, Shoko and Geto's faces flash before Gojo’s mind, and he finds himself drinking after you on the same question he asks. The drinks even hit harder on your next question.

"Have you ever made a promise that you didn't keep?" You ask him just out of curiosity. He doesn't say anything and feigns a laugh. He sure is thinking about the past a lot tonight. It takes him a second to down his shot, the questions getting more instinctive than the first few.

"Who in your life most makes you feel a sense of home?" He throws you back a question just as quickly. You reflect on it. Your childhood flashed at the back of your mind. It wasn't a welcome memory. Sure, you were given all your necessities, but that was all. It could have been better. And right now? You don't think there's a place you call home. You drink a mouthful of your drink as it is easier to swallow than explain that in detail.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" You blurt out almost spontaneously. He opens his mouth to answer but stops before the words leave his lips. Instead, he reaches out for his glass and drinks. You give him a once-over, and his question follows not even a second later.

"Do you believe in second chances?" He asks.

"Hmm... That depends..." You rest your cheek against the palm of your hand. "You know what, never mind." You add, before drinking. Surprisingly, he takes a drink with you.

You wipe your lips with your thumb before asking him your next question. "Have you ever changed your mind about something you were once sure about?"

The back of a particular black-haired man flashes again at the back of his mind. Ah, fuck it. Satoru internally cusses before grabbing the bottle and chugging it. As he places the bottle back on the table, you smirk. You take it from his hand before taking a swig. So many questions. So many drinks. And both of you were just being tight-lipped now.

"Alright, last one." He smirks right back before leaning into you. "What's your name?"

You peek at him from under your lashes before intertwining your hand with his. "I got something more interesting for you." You remark as you stand up from the table, dragging him out of the bar.

He smirks at you, knowing. He wanted to bury his memories; he knew you could help him with that.

Unlike last time, this time you ended up in the first-class district of the city, courtesy of this white-haired man. You may not know his name, but one could think he’s filthy rich. Being able to book such a luxurious hotel in this part of the city on a whim. You should have known better about following rich men around this part of town, but here you are, cuddled up to his side as his fingers traced circles on your skin.

Gojo keeps himself awake this time, feeling your warmth against his body. Everything felt... perfect. And that felt weird. Nothing felt right since that incident in his life, so why was he feeling this way now? He leans into you, letting go of his initial thoughts as his cheek settles on your head, inhaling your scent with a smile. You smelled like cherry blossoms in full bloom. The calm before the storm that's called his life. The sense of normality. He hated to admit it, but maybe he was hoping to see a glimpse of you anywhere because you brought this sense of peace to him. Only one word could describe what he is feeling right now: satisfied.

"Hey? You still with me?" He murmurs, and he feels you nod against his side. Another surprise. Usually, the women he beds wouldn't be able to keep up with him, but if the first time you met wasn't much of a hint that you were different already, this confirms that. "I'm surprised you're still awake."

"Mm... barely." You say with a slight giggle. You can feel yourself slowly drifting to sleep.

"Then sleep." He slaps your arm playfully, chuckling after you. "You deserve that much." He remarks, turning to his side before he pulls you close to his chest and sighs contentedly.

Another month passes in the blink of an eye. Your mind wanders as you take a pause from working on your paperwork. It was a weekend, but after that last meeting with your tall, silver-haired friend, you haven't had the chance to go clubbing recently. Every case you handled the past month took it out of you, making you crash and sleep whenever you had the opportunity. You wonder where he is now after you left him in the hotel. Now that you think about it, you've already done that twice, never leaving him anything. He probably won't pay attention to me again if we ever see each other. You thought disappointedly before taking a sip of your coffee.

You sigh as you turn your attention to your surroundings. The cafe is quiet except for a few people. It's one of the few places you love in this cursed city. You love the brewed coffee here, and it is your go-to whenever you have to motivate yourself to work on weekends. You switch your focus on the pile of documents you have to review on your table. You are making progress, no matter how small, but it felt like you weren't doing enough, not even when you've been pulling all-nighters. You sigh at the thought.

"Ah! It's you!" A familiar voice exclaimed, and you turned towards the sound and blinked at the figure you saw. The friendly white-haired man trotted towards you with visible happiness before settling on the chair across you. He's right before you, but you refuse to believe it. He was wearing a dark, zip-up-looking jacket with a high and wide collar and pants of the same color, his signature sunglasses surprisingly absent. His hair and those blue eyes look even more vibrant with his outfit—

"What? Cat got your tongue?" He smirks. You recall that callback from when you were caught staring at him. And you're doing it again. With that, you are brought back from your reverie.

You shake your head lightly, blinking your eyes from your daze. He's really here. Weirdly, fate makes you two meet whenever and wherever. "What are you doing here?"

He shows you the bag of kikufuku he had brought from a popular store you recognize. Now you remember that night you were playing 21 questions—almost what? A month ago now? "Ah. Sweets, of course."

"I was in the area while... doing some stuff for work." He states. "And for your information, before you start accusing me like everybody else, I'm not slacking off either. I just finished early." He says almost too proudly. You now also remember that he didn't elaborate on his line of work. And with his outfit? It didn't stand out enough to be recognized.

"I see." You shot him a look of suspicion and curiosity as you grabbed your iced coffee from the table to take a sip. He glances at your current work desk. His pretty eyes darted from the strewed papers everywhere and the few books and notebooks that were open on specific pages before returning to your face.

"Law school?" He gives you an inquisitive look.

"Yeah."

"Hmm. That explains your drinking habits." He remarks with a laugh.

"Oh, shut up. I needed to let off steam." You wave him off.

"And let off steam, you did." He gives you an enticing look, and you lowkey feel the heat travel to your face. You furrow your brow and bite your lip as you look away. "Aww, don't be shy now. You and I know we both enjoyed those nights."

That you cannot deny.

"What? Are you suggesting that we make this a regular thing?" You joke, trying to at least take control of a little bit of the conversation.

"Your words, not mine." He smirks. The bastard.

You narrow your eyes at him, though his smug look doesn't even melt for a second. So, you decide to play his game. "Well, third time's the charm?"

His smile becomes more expansive as he leans in, taking his phone from his pockets and sliding it across the table. "Give me your number then."

You roll your eyes playfully as you let out an exasperated sigh. You take this man's phone anyway and tap your contact info away. As soon as you were done, you handed him back his phone, fingertips grazing his large palm.

"L/N Y/N, huh?" He says, reading your name out loud. It was the first time you've ever heard your name sound so sweet upon another person's lips it was almost intoxicating. You nod silently as he starts typing away on his phone. A few moments later, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You take it out to check.

From: Unknown Sender

Gojo, Satoru sent you his contact info

“Gojo?” The surname sounded very familiar but you couldn’t put a finger on it right now.

“Yep. That’s me. But please, call me Satoru. It’s finally nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You have your nose stuck in a book that Monday after your classes. A research paper was due in the next couple of weeks, and you were trying your best to focus on getting your shit done earlier than the deadline to be able to review your work. It was barely the start of the week, but you couldn't wait for the weekend for many reasons.

When you met at the cafe, you and Satoru agreed that you could meet on weekends only if both of your schedules permit. Keyword: If.

"I'm not promising anything, but I'll try. Things might get busy now and then, and I might have to work on my papers on the weekends, too." You can hear yourself say to him as you sip your coffee.

"I don't mind that. At least I can get in touch with you now, unlike before when I'm just relying on chance on when I'll meet you and where." He shrugs as he eats the second slice of the cake he ordered. Good god, what a sweet tooth.

"Hey, I'm serious." You furrow your brows at him. "I can't make this a ‘normal’ regular thing," you tell him, "so don't expect much—"

"Ah, ah. Don't even worry about it." He waves off your concern. "I wouldn't even consider giving you my number if I wasn't amenable to adjustments."

Satoru has been texting you for the past two days. Asking you about your day or what you have been up to. You have been at the back of his mind, and he's been struggling not to let it have a more physical effect on him. But to his dismay, he was more hung up than he thought.

It was the evening of Sunday after you met him when he lay awake in his bed. It could be more accurate to say that he couldn't sleep as he tossed and turned in his bed uncomfortably.

"Fuck." He huffs, covering his eyes with his arm, restless as he lays on his back. He peeks at his crotch, wincing as he sees his stiff erection. For what fucking reason was he feeling this way? He doesn't know, but thoughts of you swirled around his mind endlessly, how your hands would look so dainty, held by his big ones as his other hand travels all over your body. How your scent lingered on the bed as it did the last time you slept in a bed together, how his lips would feel against your smooth, supple skin.

This shit is not helping. Satoru thought to himself, sitting up. He reaches out for his phone on his nightstand. He stood up, pulling his pants to peek from under it. It was so bad he was leaking. An intrusive thought flits through his brain, and he smirks. He takes his phone to snap a photo before tapping a message.

To: Y/N

*You sent a photo*

Thinking of you tonight. I hope you sleep tight~ Coz I know I won't.

The moment you saw that picture, you almost dropped your phone with a squeak. Now that you're sober, you realize how massive Satoru is. No fucking wonder he got you limping that first time you slept together. The sentiment makes you take a sharp inhale of breath, putting your palms together as they start to sweat. Insufferable. But it was your type of "insufferable" not that you’d openly admit to that.

Back to the present, you try to distract yourself with your notes. A few students were littered all over the library, but overall, it was quiet. Well, other than your heavy breathing, probably. A few minutes pass, and you try to bury yourself in your papers, attempting to forget about the photo incident. Your phone buzzes a few moments later.

From: Satoru

What are you up to?

To: Satoru

School stuff. I'm at the uni library.

From: Satoru

Boring stuff?

To: Satoru

Yeah. What about you?

From: Satoru

Working. I'm in the suburbs of Tokyo. Hopefully, it doesn’t take long.

To: Satoru

Good luck.

From: Satoru

Are you sure I can't see you any time earlier this week?

You bite your lip. Heavens, you would love to see him, too, but your busy schedule said otherwise. You would kill for a break from your academics, but the deadline for your research paper is fast approaching, and you can’t afford any distractions.

To: Satoru

You know I can’t… Not right now.

You sigh as you press send. You thought that would end the conversation for now, but you were wrong.

From: Satoru

Aww, c’mon, babe. I’ll make it worth your while~

You can almost hear the lilt of Satoru’s voice through the text message, the playful tilt of his head, and the smirk plastered on those pretty lips. You try to erase the image of him before typing your reply.

To: Satoru

No.

I’ll let you know if my schedule changes.

Sent. This time, instead of pocketing your phone, you opt to put it in your bag, away from you, so that you won’t know when Satoru replies… because if the last message he sent you was any hint, you know he definitely will.

For the rest of the afternoon, you worked non-stop, only taking pauses in between to take bites of the snacks you bought. I should get some real food after this, you thought. You made some progress, much to your satisfaction; not enough to be ahead, but progress nonetheless. As the day ended, you wanted to reward yourself a little, hoping to be as motivated again for the next day. You gathered your things and started to pack your stuff when you caught a glimpse of your phone in your bag. You grab to check it, curious if Satoru replied to your last text.

From: Satoru

Oh, believe me, it will.

You don’t hear from Satoru after that last message. Not a text or call in sight. Alright then, you thought, but you didn’t dwell on it. You have more important things on your plate right now. You can take care of Satoru on the weekend. You continue to work on your papers until late evening, until your phone beeps. The blue-eyed man’s name was splashed on the screen, and the preview only showed an attachment instead of the usual text message. You furrow your brow, intrigued as you pick it up. What is he up to this time?

From: Satoru

*Satoru sent an attachment*

This is what you do to me.

The video starts dark like the camera was face down on something. There's a slight rustling in the background before the view clears. Satoru's face comes into view, flushed, and he is biting onto what looks like his shirt, exposing his upper chest. His pristine white bangs stuck to his forehead as sweat glistened on his skin. You can hear something from the background, too. Something rhythmic, something... wet. Your brows furrow as you fail to comprehend what that was until the camera turns black again for a split second before you see the same sight you saw in the photo he sent a couple days ago. Only this time, he has his fist around his cock. His movements were slow and deliberate. Hushed moans escaped his lips every once in a while. Your eyes widened, and your jaw fell slack at what this man had sent you, but at the same time, you couldn't take your eyes away from the video.

"This is what you do to me."

The statement rang in your mind, loud and clear, making you lick your lips. All of a sudden, you feel parched as hell. The video continued to play, and your eyes darted from one detail to another. How big he was, the vein that ran around his length, how slick he was as he fucked his hand. You squirm unconsciously in your seat.

"Fuck..." The curse trails off from his lips. "Maybe I shouldn't be thinking of your body too much." Satoru's voice had an audible quiver as his movements never faltered. "But hey, I'm letting nature take its course... and leave you with a little preview of what you can expect over the weekend if your schedule remains unchanged." You note a tinge of sarcasm in his tone. He's still trying to persuade you, it seems.

The silence drags on for a couple seconds before his voice returns. "I know you are as excited as I am for the weekend. You just hide it well." He lets out an arrogant laugh. "I want to feel you squirming under me. Your body, sprawled on the bed, slick and ready for me... Have I ever told you how much you fit me just right?" He continues as he teases his tip with a thumb, and you notice his legs tremble a bit from the stimulation. Oh, he's so sensitive.

" I wanted to be on top of you again. Kissing you. Biting you. Marking you as mine." He rambles on. "I can almost feel your fingers pulling at my hair, trailing down my shoulders, your nails scraping my back."

"I'd hook my thumb under your chin, tipping your head back, giving me access to that pretty neck of yours." He takes a sharp inhale, his breath hitching. "I want my tongue on your skin, tasting your sweat. God, you make me so fucking hard, baby... But I'm not in any rush. Especially since I won't taste you until the weekend, right? I gotta slow down and stroke slow." He laughs, but there is a noticeable tremble in his voice this time. "Savor every last bit since you're out here starving me." You can almost see the teasing smirk on his face.

He was true to his word, though. His strokes never stuttered. It was the same unhurried pace. Only his moans filled the air, coming and going as you excitedly eyed what he'd do or say next.

"My kisses would move lower, down your body, slowly." His voice deepening. "Down the hollow of your throat, your collarbone, then to your chest. My hands would linger over your perky breasts, fondling them, giving them what they deserve, what you deserve."

"God, what would I do to worship your body right now." He says through gritted teeth. "I'd press myself down onto you. Legs intertwining as I grind my cock against your thigh."

You notice his pace quicken before he speaks again. "I can almost feel your hands move down my body. From my chest, trailing down my hips before squeezing me at the base." He groans. "Mm, it's gonna be hard to take my time once I see you over the weekend, babe."

"Fuck, I want you. Now. I want to feel you tightening around me. Me, bucking into you as you close your eyes and your mouth falls open, moaning my name." He blabbers on. "Your nails leaving trails on my back. Your hair would be a mess. And speaking of messes," he says as he taps a finger against his tip and a string of pre-cum stuck to his fingertip as he moves it away, "I'm already making one right here, just for you."

His breathing was starting to get erratic. The way he was holding the phone was also getting more and more unsteady as it blurred with each stroke. "Maybe... maybe hold your wrists against the bed," he says, "leave you writhing as I try and find out all of your weak spots. You'd pull me against you, squeezing your legs around me."

The camera adjusts as you can almost feel how hot he must be from just watching. "And I'll, uh, I'll, uhm, I'll lean down," he starts to stutter, "slide two fingers into your mouth, tell you to suck as I kiss down your neck and grind down against you."

His pace quickens once again, his strokes getting more erratic than calculated. "We'd both be dripping wet. Push my fingers deeper, telling you to swirl your tongue around them. Fuck... Then I'll pull them out of your mouth, slick with your spit. I'd trail it down, down, down your body before ending up in between your legs. Press my wet fingers against you before pushing slow and deep, letting you ride my hand."

Another sharp breath is heard in the video. "Fuck, I'll slide down between your legs, wanting to bury my face into you. I'd slide my tongue to replace my fingers, eating you up. Oh god, I'd eat you out so good." He moans, his voice changing into a deeper pitch, sounding something closer to a whine, if you were being honest. "I can't even fucking think straight. The only thing left in my head is you. Oh fuck... Your taste. Your scent. Your tight heat. Your thighs squeezing my head. I'd want your hands on my hair, guiding me deeper into you. Oh, I’d love to use you to get off. I just want all of you… and I know you’d want all of me, too. Oh fuck... I'd— I'd let you cum with my mouth on you. Fuck... Oh, goddamn it. Oh fuck, Y/N. I need you—" His rambles were cut short as he came, ropes of cum spilling over his hand. He continues to stroke himself a little more, riding the high until the very last moment.

"Oh fucking hell..." He laughs nervously before switching to the front-facing camera with his free hand. His face was flushed, his shoulders heaving. "I can't wait for the weekend, baby. Then I'll show you how badly I've missed you in person." He snickers at the camera before taking a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing. "Fuck... I'll talk to you later. Bye, babe."

The video ends... but you feel hot all over. He came with your name on his lips. You didn't even realize how hard you were gripping your PJs. Your knuckles were white, and your breathing was uneven. God, this man's promiscuity knows no bounds, you thought as you took a deep breath before typing a reply.

To: Satoru

Meet me tomorrow.

Satoru goes about his day with renewed enthusiasm. From the perspective of his other colleagues, it was almost creepy. The Six Eye user was always known for his happy-go-lucky attitude, but they can tell there's something... different. He smiled smugly, thinking how he quickly got you with the hook, line, and sinker. Ever since he was little, it was easy to get his way; it was always that way. He may have matured over the years, but living life where you're considered an anomaly in the jujutsu world gives a person a sense of pride. The hum of the car engine was steady as he went through the city streets. It was a rare occurrence that he had to drive himself around. As much as it could be funny to let Ijichi fetch and drop you both at the hotel, he thought he'd spare the man some mercy today. Satoru only drives a little as the managers (mostly Ijichi) do that for him for missions, but today's an exception.

Lights flickered on in his vision as he passed them by. The sun was setting, and people finally heading home from school or work littered the streets as he leisurely tapped a finger on the steering wheel to the beat of a nameless song playing over the speakers. He wore his usual work clothes, the same old zip-up long sleeves, but he ditched the blindfold for the more normal round sunglasses. As much as he wanted to change into comfier clothes, he didn't have enough time. Doesn't matter. It's not like the clothes will stay for that long anyway , he thought with a smirk as he pulled up on the street of your university. He parks near the entrance and gets out of the car. He leans against it, takes out his phone, and taps you a message.

To: Y/N

I'm here by the entrance.

People who passed him spoke in hushed whispers, curious about who this stunning man was waiting for, but he paid them no mind. Nobody came close compared to you... Well, right now, anyway. Anticipation bubbled in his stomach, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on you. Oh, the things he'd do to you tonight. He pockets his phone back, closes his eyes, and lets the early evening breeze ruffle his hair.

"I'm sorry I'm late—" A familiar voice approached him, and his eyes immediately snapped toward the sound. You looked like you just ran a marathon to get to him. "Class dragged on and—?!"

Satoru hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you close, kissing you without warning. Your eyes widen as you try to push him away, but that only encourages him, and he deepens the kiss, holding your face steady as he does so. A moment later, you both come up for air. You could feel your warm cheeks, and you felt like your mind was melting.

"Satoru..." You say his name, breathless. "Not here." You scold him, but really, it was a half-hearted effort. He says nothing but lets you go just enough to open the car door for you, hand still lingering on your hip.

"After you," he gestures, and you bite your lip before getting in. He follows suit shortly after, going around and getting in the driver's seat. Not even a moment later, he leans in, his large hands cup your cheek again, and leans in for another kiss. A kiss that could easily have you jumping over to his lap—

"Satoru," you call his name when he lets you go, "we can do it here, but decorum says we shouldn't. " You tell him before he sighs in surrender.

"Fine." He rolls his eyes playfully. Not today… but maybe someday. He smirks at the thought as he starts the car. He keeps a hand on your thighs throughout the drive. His fingers caressed you in ways that had your imagination running wild. At some point, you had to hold his hand in both of yours just to keep your desires (and sanity) in check.

You both make it to one of the luxury hotels downtown. You are in disbelief. Every instance you slept with this man, he has taken you to different fancy hotels. Mind you, the other two occasions were spontaneous decisions, further proving that he either has a high-paying job or he's from a very wealthy family. In conclusion, he's rich as fuck. He stops by the hotel entrance, gets out of the car, and goes around to open the door for you. As you both enter the hotel lobby, he lets the valet take care of the car. The room was spacious; lounges were scattered along the hall's walls, and a few people with fancy outfits walked past occasionally. You felt out of place with your casual clothes, but at least you weren't the only one. Satoru kept his arm around your hip, making you struggle to keep up with his long strides. He pulls you close, breath caressing your ears, "I sure hope you're not having second thoughts." He teased before giving your ear a nibble as you approached the front desk. You let out a hushed gasp as you try to push him away, but the effort only makes him chuckle. Your eyes dart around. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to you other than the clerk squinting at you judgingly, making your cheeks flush.

"Good evening. Do you have a reservation?" She mutters monotonously. She eyes you from head to toe. What's her problem?

"Ah, yes." Satoru chimes in a little too enthusiastically. "It's under my name. Gojo Satoru."

For the next few seconds, the woman taps away at her keyboard. "The penthouse suite, correct?"

"Yep. Nothing but the best." He smiles before hooking a finger under your chin, making you look at him before his lips meet yours. Your hands clutch at his clothes instinctively. You hear the front desk clerk sigh disapprovingly as if saying, "Get a room," or, in this case, "Wait for your room."

Satoru doesn't seem to notice or care for the matter. He smiles at her cluelessly after kissing you as you both wait to be checked in. He was handed the keycard shortly after before he started guiding you towards the elevator.

Two things happened as the doors closed. One, the tall man corners you at the far end of the elevator. Two, his leg slipped between yours as he cupped your face, crashing his lips against you again, this time more passionately. More hungrily. His large hands fiddled around the edges of your blouse, fingers slipping underneath, making you shudder. His carefree demeanor suddenly disappeared into thin air, catching you off guard. Your mind clouded as his tongue found yours, and you couldn't help the soft whimper that escaped your lips. He unexpectedly breaks the kiss, and you suddenly find yourself stumbling towards him, trying to chase after his lips. He smirks, waving an admonishing finger toward you.

"Greedy."

"Me?" You look at him, confused. "You were the one that couldn't wait." You shot back as the elevator dings.

He only gives you the same signature smirk before dragging you out of the elevator towards your suite. He taps the keycard on the door, and as soon as it clicks open, he pulls you inside. The door slams shut from the outside world. It's only you and him now, no more, no less. The thought alone makes him let go of his other inhibitions. He backs you to the doorframe, caging you in with his arms. He stares at you, eyes hungry with want, making you look away, feeling a tad too self-conscious.

"Don't look away." He tells you. He cups your cheek, making you look up at the tall man. Your breath hitches at your throat as he kisses you again. Whimpers escape your small frame as his other hand continues its interrupted tour under your top. He only releases your lips as he slowly peels your blouse off, exposing you to the room's cool air. He devours all your sounds, tongues intertwining as your hands slowly and instinctively find the back of his neck, trying to further deepen the kiss. After a fleeting moment, his other hand moves to your back, unhooking your bra easily. Your hand moves to his zip-up jacket in return, unzipping the thing impatiently and slipping it off him. His smooth immaculate skin shouldn't have been a surprise, but damn, his chiseled abs, lean muscular arms; his body is a work of art. Your mouth waters at the sight, but he doesn't give you any time to process that information further as he grabs you by the wrist and turns you around. You brace yourself with the palms of your hands and bend down just a little without even thinking, grinding against him.

He pauses, making you look hurriedly at the man behind you. "I'm so glad I'm not the only one feeling impatient." He remarks before you feel his hand fiddle around the button of your pants. His skillful fingers only take a second before he's unbuttoning and unzipping your pants. He slowly slides it down your legs, and you step out of it when it lands on the floor. Kisses snake up your legs and thighs before he spreads your folds with his thumbs. You feel his hot breath against your cunt, watching as it starts dripping . He barely did anything to you, yet you are already a mess. He gives it a kiss. Then, a lap of a tongue. You gasp at the sudden motion, and he grins. He's tempted to eat you out, but there will be other chances. For now, he needs you. He needs to be inside you. He slowly stood, trailing kisses along your lower back and shoulders before ending at the back of your ear. With the way he leaned against you, his erection was grinding at you deliciously, promising the pleasure that was about to come. He teases your clit with two fingers, making you arch your back at his movements.

"Fuck, baby. You sound even prettier than I imagined," he whispers. "All those pretty moans, all for me. Did you moan like this when I sent you that video earlier this week?" He asks as his free hand, the one caging you by the doorway, moves as you hear the rustle of his pants as he tries to undo them. Satoru's cock springs free, and he wraps a hand around his base, starting to stroke himself. God, he can't wait to be inside you.

"S-Satoru." Your voice quivers as he rubs you relentlessly. "Fuck... Mmm, so good..!"

And that's what pushes him over. Hearing his name come out of your delicate mouth. He lets out a sharp breath, almost a hiss, as he pulls his fingers away. "Fucking hell." He curses as he hastily aligns his cock against your entrance. "You ready for me, babe?" He asks as he rubs the tip against your leaking cunt. "Heh, I think your pussy can answer for you, huh?"

His movements were electrifying, making your skin prickle with anticipation. "Sa-Satoru~," you whine, "stop... stop teasing..!"

"Tell me what you want then." His voice is condescending. His tip barely slipped inside you, making you feel even more deprived. "Tell me how much you want me, need me ."

"Fuck, Satoru..! I need you. I need you inside me. Please..!" The whines that escaped your lips were almost automatic. He smirks, realizing how much he has you wrapped around his finger.

"Hm? You gotta be more specific, baby." He taunts, rubbing his length between your thighs, making you dig your teeth into your bottom lip. "Tell me what you want."

The sounds of your mewls mingled with the sloppy sounds between your legs made your head spin. "Fuck, baby, please. I need... I need your cock. I need it— Ah!" Not even a moment later, he pushed into you, gripping your hips so hard you think it'll bruise. Your face contorts in pleasure at the sudden penetration. He takes it so achingly slow, your mind blanks and you can't even discern whether or not you want him to go further into you. You may have been drunk the first two times you've fucked, but you remember this feeling of fullness. The photo and the video were proof of that, too. But now that you're sober, your brain is short-circuiting at how big he is. He reached places you couldn't with your hands or toys, making your toes curl.

"You like that, babe?" He taunts you, pulling back a little, then pushing back in. Giving you something, but you need more. You dig your teeth into your lower lip, suppressing your whines. When he is met with silence, he pulls back all the way back before slamming back into you. The gasp you let out sounded so sinful it went straight to his dick. He groans at the way you are already clenching around him. "You can keep quiet all you want, but this pussy can't lie. Not to me." He remarks before he slowly starts to move. He wouldn't have moved until you've begun formulating words again, but fuck was he impatient. He couldn't wait a week, for fuck's sake, and he'd be damned if he were made to stay still for a minute longer. He kept a steady pace, hitting all your spots. Heat starts to pool in your stomach fast as he slowly but surely amps up the pace. Your knees feel like jello. You would have buckled a long time ago if it weren't for his hands on your hips, pulling you in and out onto him.

"F-Fuck! Sa-Satoru..! Too much!" You cry out in pleasure as he lets out a breathy chuckle from behind you.

"Aww, don't say that. I've barely started with you." He says as he starts to slam into you deeper. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and you could guess that anyone passing by the door would be able to hear your cries. "I know you can take it. So take it like the good girl you are."

A broken moan escapes your lips. Your skin prickles as you feel yourself tethered over the precipice of pleasure. Although Satoru wanted to stay in control , he couldn't help his needy groans echoing in the room. God, he felt so desperate. It's like he hadn't had anything like you before, and it's addicting. He leans on you, lips latching onto the back of your neck, sucking, kissing, biting, marking you as his.

"You take me so well," he whispers against your skin. The closeness makes you reach an arm to the back of his head, trying to pull him into you. He whispered words of praise as he planted fleeting kisses upon your forehead. With each moan that escaped your pretty lips, his resolve to make this last longer, crumbles. His movements started getting erratic. His fingers dug into your skin as you tangled your fingers in his hair with each thrust. Your body felt so warm. Your legs started to tremble as you uncontrollably clenched around him tighter.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna cum—" His words were cut short as he crashed his lips against yours, muffling your cries and groans. "Cum with me, baby. Fuck, cum with my cock inside you..!" He demands. Your body responds to him not a second later. The waves of pleasure that washed over you as he emptied himself inside you sent you to your ecstasy. Hiccups wrecked your body as it trembled, and he rode every last second of it. You let out a whine of complaint from the sensitivity, but he pressed soft kisses on your temple while murmuring words about how good you were. He lets you catch your breath before pulling out of you. You let out a groan of complaint at the sudden emptiness, but he makes up for it when he carries you bridal-style in his arms. You lean into him as you open your eyes to see this man, eyes drooping.

"Hey, don't tell me you're already tired?" He smirks at you. "The night is young. And I'm sure as hell not done with you yet."

A couple more weeks passed after your last encounter, and despite your initial agreement with Satoru, there were times (multiple times, by the way) that this rule was disregarded. Every time, you told him it would be the last time. It was broken every time, and you always found ways to justify it. You needed a break from your studies. You wanted to see him. Being with him just felt that good. You couldn't help yourself. And so did Satoru. He found himself craving your presence, your touch, your kisses. He found that his thoughts seemed to wander to you even when he was at work. His smug smiles were proof of that, not that Ijichi appreciated seeing that. It gave the man the shudders.

As you submitted the last of your papers, you left the campus feeling lighter as all your headaches now seemed to float away. It was almost the weekend, and it was finally time to unwind. You take your phone out and start tapping away.

To: Satoru

How's work going?

Not a minute later, your phone buzzes.

From: Satoru

Boring... And you? Done with school?

Now that you think about it, he has yet to tell you about his work. To be fair, after your drunk questions, you have yet to bring it up again. Not that you have any reason to. He hasn't done anything that would raise your suspicion.

To: Satoru

Are you just slacking again?

You snicker as you send the message. You've heard Satoru complain about his job sometimes. Something about the elders? His superiors maybe? He tends to grumble about how they're such a pain in the ass.

From Satoru:

Hey! I wasn't slacking! <;(๑`^´๑)>

Not today, anyway.

You suppress a laugh bubbling from your throat.

To: Satoru

Alright, alright, don't pout. Are you still at work?

From: Satoru

Nah. I just finished, actually. Wait for me by the entrance. Let's go out and eat! There's a cafe I'd like to try out!

You can literally hear the elation from his text message. His sweet tooth knows no limits, so it seems. Well, at least it gets you free coffee, which works well for you.

To: Satoru

Okay. See you there... then my place tonight?

Your face heats up as you bite your lip in anticipation. You suggested that you take turns visiting each other's houses for the past couple of weeks instead of meeting up in hotels. As much as you've proven that this man is filthy rich, you didn't want him spending such unnecessary money over impromptu overnights at luxury hotels.

From: Satoru

Sure, babe ;)

Comments from my beta reader/co-creator while checking the draft:

I know I wrote the timeline but you didn't have to do it

I don't wanna read this fic anymore

I'm gonna highlight all of the things I hate in this fic *highlights the whole document* /jk

I don't want to involve myself in the demon shit that this is *skims a paragraph*

He is wearing his ugly ass onesie

I know what I said but don't @ me

Stay tuned for Chapter 2! uwu

Lemme know if you want me to make a taglist for this!

129 notes · View notes

marilynthornhilllover · 1 year ago

Note

Can I request Miranda Miranda X child reader fic comforting however. When she was obsessed with having eve back and using rose to make it happen but then it failed. Perhaps you could do an aftermath? Instead of mother Miranda dying you could say once she saw the child reader alone she felt something that she hadn't with rose for example? Then maybe a connection forms when she takes her in?

Nothing in this world belong to me, but my love, is mine, all mine.

Mother miranda x fem!childreader.

Warning: thought of suicide, grief, sadness, pain, rage, extra fluff.

The air was thick and cold, mainly freezing. The snow fell off the trees along with dead birds who failed to leave their nest before the snow storm arrived. Everyone of the village was inside, not a single soul wanted to be outside in theses kind weather conditions and freeze to death.

The path way into the haunted forest was dark and gloomy, the whispers of the wind was loud and eerie. The once grassed pathway was now bare ice. The brave hawks, crowed as they stood tall on tree branches. The only light guiding anyone's way was the moon. the mist of the late night enveloping the midnight sky, in a dark grey mist.

The air was spicy. The slight smell of smoke, burnt candles and late 90s perfume that had been sweated off. The smell of lavender and cinnamon can be picked up along with the many other scents.

The fire of the bonfire burned bright, coloring the circle of trees and stone seats a dim but bright orange glow.

Upon one of the seats, weeping was no other than mother miranda.

Her story is quite simple yet many fail to understand that behind all her treacherous acts is.... a human being.

A woman who had a normal life....

A mother who loss her daughter to a disease.

A simple human been who failed once in life and was crucified for it.

Despite her actions - that she has no excuse for, lays a heart of gold. One that many respected, one that many obeyed, one that many feared, one that many still loved.

In her shaking hands was a thin old fading piece of picture. Her before.... well, her before the 'black god' handed her, her powers. A woman who lived a quiet, peaceful, happy life. In her hands she held her new born daughter eva. The love of her life, the one her heart would beat for, the reason for her to go on.....

That little girl was now dead.

She was taken away from her mother at such a young age.

Died at such a young age.

Miranda's heart remained cold, bitter, selfish and evil ever since. Her heart never healed. Though many others would still grieve, you have to move on. ' life goes on' they say say. Something Miranda couldn't quite understand, doesn't understand. While it's easy to understand her pain it's hard to justify her actions because of that pain. With great loss brings great pain, with great pain brings great regret.

Though regret was something Miranda never had - never felt. Killing hundreds of dozens of people just to find a vessel for her eva. Not that she was off topic crazy she was also down right ridiculous and brutal to thoses who were also given a chance of life just like her daughter.

If there's life, there's death, it's how you deal with both that matters. And miranda only knew solution to one.

Rage filled her as she stood up and screamed to the top of her lungs. Resulting in the last batch of brave birds that were lingering on the tree to fly away.

Her scream was indeed powerful, when she first got her powers she used it to her advantage, breaking the neck of those who tried to kill her.

The Goddess fell to her knees, hugging the picture close to her chest as she sobbed. It was rare to see mother miranda show emotions much less to cry. If any man was to see her in such a state for sure she would kill them instantly.

She choked on her tears as she wailed heavily,that's before it was cut off when she heard a branch snap.

She quickly wiped her tears and looked up. She looked around herself using her prey catching x-ray vision and hawk eye to see extra miles into the dullness of the forest. She spotted a little girl in a white lace floral dress, frizzy hair and plae skin. Her eyesbrows quirked as she slowly got up and brushed off her dress.

She softly smiled at the young girl behind the bushes. Miranda had a love for children long before her daughter eva died, but since then she only cared about using them for her vessel. But Miranda felt something different with this girl. Something strange.

" Come her my love" she spoke in a low, soft tone. Again something Miranda never does. The little girl was hesitant at first. Looking at the tall woman before her. Dressed in black, black and gold cloak with her coat of arms on it, gold hawk mask and feathers at her feet. Any other child would run away screaming and never look back at the creature behind them.

The little girl sniffed as she emerged from her hiding spot and walked towards miranda, stopping right infront of her. Miranda chuckled as she kneeled so that she can be on the same eye level with the young girl.

" Your a brave one aren't you." She cooed as she examined the girl. She had the most beautiful y/c/e and a well featured face.

" and your very beautiful" she spoke twirling a strand of the child's hair. The girl smiled at miranda in awe and pure bliss, but it quickly faded as she sneezed. Miranda pulled away for a slit second before returning her attention to the girl. That's when it came clear to her that the girl was sick.

Miranda slightly pouted as she tucked a strand of hair away for her forehead to behind her ear as she felt that her skin was even burning up.

" you poor thing" miranda whispered with true sympathy as she picked up the girl. The girl was quick to wrap her arms around miranda's neck and snuggle into it. Miranda held the girls head as she started walking. Miranda felt light in her dark miserable heart, for once in a long time miranda actually felt like her void can be healed. But she didn't want to get her hopes incase the girl had a family to return to.

Miranda didn't want to creat a vessel for eva because she missed her, or because she has a hard time dealing with grief, part of her wanted eva to be the next inking to her powers when she dies so the world and village can stay a catastrophic place.

Who would have thought that despite mother miranda's damanor that she has a average modern house. She sighed as she opened the door and place the little girl down.

" alright you little gaint, run along now, your quite heavy I must add" she spoke as she closed the door behind her. The little gasped as she saw the huge box of toys in the living room area.

" you have toys!" She exclaimed as she ran over to the fluffy carpet and sat on it, taking out all the toys one by one making a mess. Miranda chuckled, happiness filling her chest, but that's when she felt it... the sharp stabbing pain. She quickly used her powers to block out the girls hearing, not wanting to traumatize her in anyway or possibly anymore.

She started hyperventilating as quickly made her way to the nearest wall so she could hold herself up. She took slow breaths as she removed her mask, her gaze landing upon the young girl sitting in her living room. Miranda was scared to love again, scared to love a child again. Because she's afraid what she loves she'll lose. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at the girl happily playing with some dolls and trucks.

She tried her best to keep her tears at bay as she restored the girls hearing. Miranda cleared her throat as she approached the girl and sat behind her.

" can I keep this one! I named her emily!" The young girl spoke happily pushing a doll in miranda's face, miranda sniffed as a soft laughter escaped her. She nodded and the girl turned back around and kept playing. Miranda gently removed her talons from her fingers as she started combing through the child's frizzy and tangled hair. Massaging her scalp she started braiding her hair in a french braid, adding a white bow at the end.

" alright let's go get you something for that cold" she said as she got up and walked over to the kitchen. The little girl walked behind her sitting in one of the chairs at the dinner table, swinging her short legs because of the height of the chair. Miranda prepared some herbal tea that she can drink at her age and some mint and honey cookies.

The little girl gladly took them eating and drinking everything in a every funny way. After miranda gave her a some cold orange juice and ran her a bath. After she was all tucked in into bed, Eva's bed. Just as miranda was about to turn off the lights the girl spoke up again.

" can you sing me a song?, my mom used to do it but she's gone now, so can you be my mom and sing me a song?" Miranda swore she felt her heart erupt in butterflies at the young girl asking for her to play a mother figure, but she couldn't ignore the fact that the girls parents died. Miranda hummed in response and sat on the edge of the bed, watching as the girl hugged her teddy bear and made extra space. As miranda began singing the girl became comfortable and slowly she started falling asleep.

" Yes you'll be in my heart from this day forward and forever more" miranda whispered as she finished the song, by now the girl had already fallen asleep. Miranda sighed, smiling at the girl and her sleeping form before placing a peck on her forehead. She turned on her purple lava lamp and turned off the bedroom lights before closing the door.

Miranda then went to her room, she sighed as she sat on her bed. In her one hundred years of being alive, she's never felt so happy, so fulfilled and like she was capable of loving. That void in her chest was slowly vanishing, but that brings great pain, but she's ready to face the pain. Because this new little girl is hers and she's a blessing.

Miranda realized that she doesn't need to bring Eva back..... what she needs to do is move on, it's been way too long. It's time to let herself feel again....

#fypシ゚viral #fanfic #marilynthornhilllover #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resdient evil #mother miranda #re8 village #re8 #mother miranda re8 #fluff

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sofoulandfairaday · 2 years ago

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Do you have any patronus headcanons (if they were able to cast them) for the Black family + in laws?

Ohhhh this anon sparks joy!

These are all soft headcanons by the way, I am very much open to debate on the matter (especially since with the exception of Sirius, who hated the Dark Arts, these people wouldn’t actually be able to cast Patronus Charms which is really fucking stupid imo but whatever, it’s the canon)

Sirius: we know this already, it’s a black dog

Reggie: I am a sucker for those headcanons where Sirius inadvertently finds out that Reggie’s Patronus is a black dog, so definitely that. But on the other hand, I also love black cat Patronus headcanons for Regulus: sleek, quiet, intelligent, extremely magical creatures. So wrapped up in magic as an animal that it would be befitting of a pureblood heir. And it fits his personality perfectly. This art of the Black brothers on this very topic by @likeprongstostars made me emotional, now all of you have to see it. You're welcome.

Walburga: no clue. I want to say something like a big cat, like a panther or something of the sort, but maybe also a manta ray. They’re absolutely huge, imposing creatures, but so beautiful and territorial as fuck. This is my main requirement for Walburga’s Patronus: seeing her reaction to the filth infesting 12 Grimmauld Place makes me think of an animal marking their territory.

Orion: again, no clue. But if I had to pick one probably a crow. Intelligent creatures, loyal, vicious when needed (they can quite literally take your eye out, I can see Orion doing that Kaz Brekker style to someone), but also an omen of death. And to me, the man is a glum sort. I’m sorry but I cannot help but see him a bit like the spectre of the feast (in Italian, literally ‘uccellaccio del malaugurio’, if you know, you know).

Bellatrix: Now. I am convinced that her Patronus is a black swan. This is admittedly not my theory, credit goes to a YT channel called Harry Potter Folklore, but to me, it fits perfectly. First of all, it's a nudge to her father's name, Cygnus (literally ‘swan’), and her loyalty to her family. Secondly, they are elegant, beautiful creatures, extremely faithful and who mate for life, which fits her extreme devotion to the Dark Lord. Black swans specifically are also rare in nature and can symbolize death in some cultures. It's Bella.

Based on this, I'll say that Andromeda and Narcissa's original Patroni were also swans (of the white kind - not that it matters for an actual Patronus since it's made of light, but the distinction is important to me). Both of theirs changed with their respective partners. Andromeda's became a Jack Rabbit (which I headcanon was Ted's: it was also Nymphadora's first Patronus). Narcissa's became the same as her husbands'. Bella was always the most loyal to her family and her sisters and hers stays the same until she dies, fucking fight me.

Lucius: I know you all expect me to say a peacock (and I can see it: territorial, the literal embodiment of vanity, elaborate mating ritual... and you just know Lucius did all of that with Cissy - huge sparkling diamond necklaces and whatnot) but I can also see it being a greyhound - elegant, dogs associated with the nobility, who also represent resilience, and most of all hunting dogs.

Rodolphus: a wolf. My man is wolf-coded, no I will not elaborate. But it's a wolf 100%, just trust me. Also, Rabastan's is a red fox. Non-negotiable.

I would love to hear what you guys think.

#asks #answered #the noble and most ancient house of black #sirius black #regulus black #orion black #walburga black #the black sisters #the black brothers #rodolphus lestrange #lucius malfoy #bellatrix lestrange #narcissa malfoy #andromeda tonks

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vermillion-bloodmoon · 10 months ago

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(TSAMS Continuity AU) Too Much Risk, Not Enough Reward

Parts and Services: April 2nd, 2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Earth has been stuck and locked in one of the side rooms after Lunar found her eating one of the STAFF bots while it was still functioning, dried oil staining her mouth as she had sucked that STAFF bot dry. Her expression is a tired one, having not gotten any sleep for the past week she had been stuck down there. Soon though footfalls can be heard coming towards the room she's stuck in, which got her to look up. It was Solar, having brought down Earth's knitting supplies along with his own.]

Solar: Hey...I thought you would've gotten bored, being stuck and all that...

[Solar goes to open the door to the room, but Jack, being as quick as he is, stops him.]

Jack: I am sorry! But Moon has told me it is too risky for anyone to go near Earth!

Solar: Jack, she's my sister, she wouldn't hurt me.

Jack: I am sorry, I am only following my current prerogative!

Solar: Jack, let me through-

Jack: I cannot...I do not want to lose you, and Sol would not want to lose you either. Too risky, Solar!

[Solar's rays lower in defeat as he returns to the glass window, looking in at Earth.]

Solar: I'm....I'm sorry, Earth. I thought I'd be able to give you your knitting stuff.

Earth: ......

[Earth can't say anything, what could she say? That she wouldn't harm him if he shut Jack down and came in? No...the hunger was too much, she wanted oil, she needed it, to have the warmth of it splattered on her face. Blood would've worked too, but Solar doesn't have blood.]

Earth: ....Don't worry about it, it's okay.

Solar: Well...I still brought my stuff, so...maybe you could watch? I'm actually trying to do a blanket this time, I was thinking maybe orange and black with a small splash of purple for Sol. You think she'd like it?

Earth: I...think she'd love it, Solar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Parts and Services: April 6th, 2024

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[Moon taps at the glass of the room Earth is in, Earth having her back turned to him, her stance similar to a zombie's.]

Moon: Earth?

[Earth's neck creaks, groans, and snaps as she slowly turns to look at Moon, her mouth seeping with a dark, pulsing liquid. Moon flinches and stops tapping at the glass.]

Moon: Um....so...how are you feeling?

Earth: ...Hungry...

Moon: I know...but I can't feed you what you actually want.

Earth: ...Moon!!

[Earth bangs against the glass, causing Moon to fall onto his back.]

Earth: I need it! I need your oil!! Let me have it!!

[Earth's eyes flash a more crimson red color, their pupil shape changing to one of a skull.]

Moon: Earth, Earth, hey hey calm down! I...I can't let you have my oil, I can't let you have anyone's oil, not even Bloody and Harvest as much as I dislike those two.

[Earth makes a low growling plus a heavy breathing noise, her eyes going back, somewhat, to normal. Or at least, back to their previous state of being blue with only one pupil being a skull shape.]

Moon: Earth....I promise, I'll find a cure for this, just hold on a little longer.

[Earth says nothing, going back to her previous state of being in a zombie-like stance, here eyes staring off into the void.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Parts and Services: April 13th, 2024

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Foxy: I....holy shit dude...

Monty: Earth...?

[Earth's eyes are completely hollow, her face twisted into an eerie, unwavering grin....everything below her head had been twisted and transformed into some sort of metal centipede monster, it taking up the entire room, leaving only enough room for Earth's head to peek out the glass that stood between her and the two outside of the room. Her face was also stained with that black, pulsating substance. Her only response was a raspy croaking, breathing noise.]

Foxy: What...what the hell happened to your girlfriend?

Monty: Do I look like I know what happened, man?? No one's told me anything outside of her getting infected with...something!

Foxy: Gonna be honest here bud, I don't think that's even Earth in there anymore. Whatever it is, it's just using Earth as a skin suit.

Monty: No no she still has to be in there! Earth!

[Monty runs up to the glass and touches it with their own hand.]

Monty: Earth, honey, it's me....please, say something...!

[Earth's head snaps to the side, one of the metal centipede limbs gently pressing itself against the glass where Monty's hand was. Earth's hollow eyes make a grinning gesture before a raspy giggling is heard.]

Monty: ...Hey....you're in there, aren't you?

[Earth, or whatever's wearing her head as a mask, laughs harder, it sounding raspy and almost...pained.]

Earth(?): I need it...let me have it! I want it to end!

[The voice sounds like a pre-recorded version of Earth's voice, or even the last words she had said before she had transformed into this monstrous form.]

Foxy: ...Oh god...bud, I'm sorry, that isn't her anymore.

Monty: No! No!

[Monty impulsively tries to get into the room through the door, but Jack stops them like he had to stop Solar several times before.]

Jack: I am sorry, I cannot allow you access either!

Monty: Jack, get outta my way-!

Jack: I will paralyze you to stop you if I must!

Monty: Jack...!

Foxy: Monty, listen to Jack, clearly Earth had to have already been getting to be too dangerous if he's trying to stop you.

Monty: But that's my girlfriend man, I can't leave her like that!

Foxy: Monty I'm gonna be real honest with you, I don't think there would be anything that could cure that, even if it was developed. You...might just have to put her down.

Monty: Heheh...nah, I bet Moon has to have developed something that actually could work on curing her.

Moon: ....I wish I could say you were right, Monty.

[Foxy and Monty nearly collapse backwards, not having really expected Moon to pull a Jack.]

Monty: What do you mean by that?

Moon: As it turns out whatever she was infected with is actually some kind of mutant killcode that can't be killed off itself.

Foxy: So...if KC had mutated, that could've happened to you?

Moon: Yeah but I don't want to think about in all honesty...anyway turns out KC's the one who made the person who infected Earth.

Monty: Well how'd you find that one out, hm?

[Monty leans against one of the work tables.]

Moon: So before Eclipse completely tore him to shreds, I interviewed that stupid Crescent Moon kid.

Monty: ....God damnit I wanted to get another shot at him!

Moon: Oh great so we're in agreement that kid is just flat out awful. Anyway Crescent Moon was also made by KC, his twin sister is the one that infected Earth by the way, and turns out both him and his sister's killcodes were made with the intent to help protect and defend instead of, you know, kill for no reason. But I guess Luna's mutated to the point it gave her a monster form. The difference between them and Earth though...

[Moon looks at Earth(?) with a pained expression, Earth(?) seemingly going back into that sort of dissociative state.]

Moon: Is that Luna can control that form, meanwhile Earth can't, given that we couldn't let her have any access to blood or oil or even other animatronics for that matter.

Foxy: ...So I'm...oh...I'm right, you're gonna have to put your own sister down, kami kai that's uh....listen, I'll leave you two to figure it out, I'm gonna go get my kid.

[Foxy leaves Parts and Services, Monty and Moon now standing at the room Earth was stuck inside.]

Monty: ...What can we even do, Moon? We can't just pull an Old Yeller on her.

Moon: I don't know, I don't even wanna do this but I have to!

Monty: And I can't just let you do it, not...not on your own anyway.

[Earth(?) hears them and lets out another raspy laugh, sounding less like her own.]

Earth(?): Make it stop! Can't!!!

[Earth's words sound more like they were badly put together audio clips.]

Moon: ...We have to move her into the tube, let it disassemble her...

Monty: And how do you plan on doing that without getting bitten? You told Jack to not let anyone into the room.

Moon: I'm sure Jack's fast enough to move her in there without getting bit. Hey Jack-

Jack: Already done, Moon! No bite marks detected on my body!

Monty: God that's freaky-

Moon: Efficient though...

[Moon and Monty now move over to the old computer with only four buttons, which even I as the narrator admit is stupid and makes things harder than it has to be.]

Monty: ...Give me a moment before you start the process, please.

Moon: I don't plan to start until I get to say my peace too...

Monty: What about Sun, Solar, Lunar, Ruin, and Sol?

Moon: ....Hey Jack, go tell the others about what's happening, and take them down here if they want to get their peace in.

Jack: On it!

[Jack quickly leaves and comes back within five minutes with Sun, Solar, Lunar, Ruin, and Sol.]

Sun: Oh...oh my kami kai this is real...

[They all surround the tube, Earth(?)'s head slowly swiveling around to look at each of them. They all get to say their peace, even saying goodbye to Earth.]

Lunar: Moon...is it...going to hurt her?

Moon: Gonna be honest, it probably would hurt her more if she was still conscious under that.

[Moon lets out a heavy hearted sigh, putting in the command that would disassemble Earth inside the tube. Everyone mostly turns away, not wanting to watch the whole thing happen. It takes over an hour for Earth(?) to be disassembled, Moon having a heavy sense of guilt.]

Moon: Oh I am gonna need so much actual therapy after this.

Ruin: To be fair, I think we all do.

Sol: I don't blame you for that one, I actually have a therapist recommendation.

Moon: Huh?

Sol: His name's Nicolas Gator, I usually send Bloody and Harvest to see him.

[Literally everyone but Sol groan when they hear his name.]

Solar: God damnit not ANOTHER family member of Monty's we didn't know about.

Monty: Don't look at me, I didn't know either!

Sol: ...Is it a bad time to mention he's your older twin? He kinda mentioned that when I first met him and pointed out how similar you two looked.

Monty: Damnit I did not need my own twin brother!

Moon: Well if he's a therapist, he's probably smarter than you are.

Monty: Moon I swear-!

[Moon laughs as Monty starts to chase him out of parts and services, leading everyone else to follow after them to try and get Monty to stop.]

#fnaf sb au #fnaf sb oc #sams au #tsams au #sams bloodmoon #tsams bloodmoon #tsams sun #tsams moon #tsams lunar #tsams solar #mgafs monty #tsams monty #tsams earth #laes earth #laes lunar #tw: angst #tw: character death #tw: freaky monster transformation description

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ultraviolet-cello · 1 year ago

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Tristamp rewatch, episode 2! Took me a little longer to get to this because I think episode 2 is like,,,, I never have anything to say about it lmao I don't have too many background details.

Nevertheless, below the cut [Not so long today!] are some theories, details, and character traits I've picked up on today's fine tooth comb rewatch! Also once again spoilers for Tristamp and Trimax.

Once again thanks to @tristampparty for organizing this, I'm having fun :]

So! In sharp contrast with yesterday, I realized that we have a little bit more of Knives in that opening crash sequence - his face is less covered and the camerawork less Vashcentric. I am possibly the worst person to analyze expressions (I have That particular Autism Thing where I often misinterpret people's faces) but here are a few I found interesting

He just looks a little. again not good at interpreting expressions but anxious? scared, a little upset? I'm not entirely sure he understood how,,, violent the ship exploding would be - and Vash is clearly very very distressed. Also the dark circles under his eyes in that last one - he might have been crying. Much to think about.

Okay this scene, aside from being really funny, is Frustratingly Overlooked imo. Vash's whole,,, pathetic wet sona thing is often intentionally played up in order for him to get people to see him as less of a threat/weaker/more peaceful. And then to have Meryl and Roberto go yeah no we aren't buying that, Instantly calling him out on his bullshit is interesting.

I guess just as Wolfwood sees through Vash's smiles in 98/Trimax, Roberto and Meryl call him out on his schtick here. I also think that he's doing it more exaggerated than normal to kind of change the subject/alter some perceptions of him.

Rai-Dei spotted, and Nightow! Slightly higher quality because I realized I was watching in 720p instead of 1080 because I,,,, i don't know why lmao. anyway i like that nightow gets his own little poster its cute

I guess now would be the time to talk about children in Trigun. So as it goes on I'll build on this, but the fact that so many characters in Trigun are motivated by children is very very important to me; Rosa and the people of Jeneora Rock go after Vash not for themselves, but so they can have the money for their children. Father Nebraska appeals to Rosa to help him get Gofsef up on safe land again by pointing out that he's a father too.

A common trait amongst Trigun characters is their protectiveness of children - Wolfwood (obviously), Vash, Meryl, Roberto and Milly clearly, but Knives and Legato leave the children alive in that one town in 98, Livio in Trimax learns to see children as kinda cute - and the arguably most unsympathetic character, Chapel, is kinda the only guy that hurts/abuses children with 0 remorse. Hate that guy lmao.

It reads to me like a bunch of people wanting to break the cycle of abuse on this planet. but they don't really know how :(

On a lighter note, some screencaps I grabbed for fun, ft: The Thomas Loaf

my closing thought is about Roberto. So clearly he's, yknow, there instead of Milly (unforgivable /lh), but he and Milly have some interesting parallels and ideas - Primarily their observational skills.

In trimax, when Milly interacts with Vash, a lot of the time she's calling out strange expressions or oddities on him - in legato's appearance, that time she asks him why he's still smiling, and the arc where Meryl gets kidnapped.

Roberto is serving a similar role in observing and calling things out about Vash, but he's a little more,,, rough about it. He's nowhere near as (outwardly, the man's got a big heart) caring as Milly! I think it'll be good for Meryl to have Milly in s2 :]

Speaking of Meryl, I appreciate that she definitely has at least someone observational with her, especially while she's less experienced. I love her very much but she happens to be a very stubborn very impulsive person lmao. She definitely needs a balancing.

#cli speaks #cli analysis #tristampparty #trigun #trigun stampede

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starwarsgirlie · 1 year ago

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We Belong To Death

Hi homegirls! Here's the second chapter of my Viktor X Reader fic!

The reader has female anatomy and goes by she/her pronouns. Further chapters will contain NSFW content!

PLEASE comment on what you think or what you'd like to see! I love collaborating!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters besides Persephone. I used the Arcane lore and characters from Kander and Ebb's Cabaret for much of this chapter's plot!

Trigger warnings: Sexual themes, drugs, alcohol, and death

Chapter 2 - Life is a Cabaret

"Lacey", the name of the cabaret you worked at... and grew up in. Owned by your dearest Granny Ray, this place became your home. The upstairs is where you lived with the elderly women and your sisters, other orphaned children she had taken in. There were seven of you: Fritzy, Sally, Frenchie, Helga, Lulu, Rosy and you. You adored your family, and they adored you. Fritzy and Sally were the oldest, 24 years old—both tall and adorning beautiful locks of brown hair. Fritzy was known for her cold demeanor but nonetheless showed her sister's love in her own ways. Being the oldest is a tough job, and she felt it was her responsibility to help Granny Ray raise and protect you all.

Then there was Sally, also the oldest, but don't expect her to look after anything. Despite having the sweetest heart, she is known to be impulsive, forgetful, and a little on the wild side. Frenchie- 20, in your opinion, was one of your most beautiful sisters, who was quite aware of her beauty's effect on others. With her green eyes and auburn hair her smile could get her anything she wanted. Helga-20, too, could get anything she wanted from others, but this was more through intimidation; with her short purple hair and muscular build, she was your protector. However, she was also very charming, making her and Frenchie unstoppable in getting what they wanted. Lulu- 18, was very quiet and sensitive to what was happening around her. Being able to read people's emotions and intentions, she was who you needed when new people came knocking on the club door wanting to do business. With her petite build and dark hair, she easily went unnoticed when lurking in the shadows, assessing those around her. Finally, there was your sister, Rosy, with her curly black afro and golden brown eyes; she was the face of mischief. Rosy-18 had always been curious and intrigued by what was happening around her. She snuck into air ducts, closets, and cupboards with her petite build, nearly scaring Granny Ray half to death most of the time. If you ever wanted to know what was happening in anyone's life, she was the one you would ask.

Now, this cabaret is different from what you think it is. It isn't some shady strip club or whorehouse; Lacey was where one could watch a performance that could match those of the theatres in Piltover. Sure, you had your drunks and men who would ogle over the girls performing, but as Granny Ray said, "We live in a man's world, girls. Unfortunately, no one holds men accountable for their behavior, so we might as well make money off it." And she was right; the money you and your sisters made off those dingy men was why you survived in the undercity. However, this didn't mean the men could touch the performers; no, no, no, Granny Ray was very strict that her performers were always safe and that any person trying to cause funny business would be dealt with, often by Vander himself.

Vander was very close with Granny Ray as she often looked after his kids Vi, Powder, Claggor, and Mylo. Oh, how you loved them! Due to The Last Drop and Lacey being across the street from each other, you often spent time with them, which you loved because they were much closer in age to you than your sisters, as you were only 11. You were only allowed to be a performer at Lacey when you were 18, so while your older sisters performed, you worked behind the bar making "drinks" with Powder (Granny Ray made sure only to give you two fruit juices). This is how it went for years, all you kids running between the two establishments "helping" and getting a small allowance. However, it was clear that Vander and Granny Ray hardly gave you any actual work, instead just tasks to keep you busy.

Oh, how you couldn't wait for the day you could join the cabaret; you'd been learning the dances and songs your whole life from your older sisters, especially Rosy; she was often the star of the show and one of the sisters you were most close with. Her grace and elegance were unmatched, and while you thought all your sisters were talented, you could understand why she was the star.

As the years passed, you got more and more excited to join the cabaret until things took a turn for the worst. You were not told what happened; all Granny Ray said was Vander had passed away, and you could no longer see the kids. Only from Lulu and Rosey did you hear of Claggor and Mylo's death and how Vi and Powder had disappeared. You couldn't believe this and in a panic rushed to The Last Drop, and who you found was a man called Silco. He bent to your level despite his cold facade, "Hello, young Percy. I suggest you run back home, but not before I give you a message for Granny Ray; tell her that Lacey is under my protection and has no obligation to help sell shimmer." You ran home confused. What was shimmer, and why was he protecting your home? Upon arrival, Granny was furious. And you were forbidden ever to go there and talk to your friends again. Why do so many people expect you always to forget the past and those you love with little to no explanation? However, sensing your sadness and panic, Fritzy took you aside to explain what had happened more clearly. "My dearest Percy, I know you are confused, but you need to know that at this time, you have to stay away from there for your safety. Your friends have moved to another beautiful world where they are now playing together!" "But why did they leave me? Everyone leaves me." you sobbed, and the windows shook. All your sisters came into the room, knowing you were losing control. Before you knew it, they surrounded you, gently holding you in a group hug. You calmed down and looked up, "We will never leave you, Percy." Frenchie smiled. "Of course not; you're my favorite sister. Do you think I like these other bitc-OUCH?" Sally elbowed Helga in the side; don't swear in front of her. Everyone giggled, including you. "We love you, Percy, and we are here for you always," Sally whispered, kissing your forehead.

You were sad for a long while, but with the support of your sisters and time, you began to feel better, and before you knew it, it was your 18th birthday.

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane #vi arcane #caitlyn kiramman #powder arcane #jinx arcane #vander arcane #arcane silco #jayce talis #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane headcanon #silco #arcane netflix #viktor #smut

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lucas-deziderio · 1 year ago

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Dezi reads Pact

I am a newcomer to Tumblr and have just found out about liveblogging books. It seems pretty darn fun! So I decided to try my hand at it to both exercise my literary analysis muscles and to maybe make a few friends in this site. And I've decided that my first subject on this will be John “Wildbow" McCrae's web serial Pact.

I've been a huge fan of his other work, Worm, for years now (though I do have a couple issues with it). And I'm also a big fan of urban fantasy stories with well designed magic systems, so the premise of this book is already very appealing to my tastes.

I have actually started reading through it before but put it on hold for a while. I am currently sitting in the middle of Signature 8.7 and will be picking up the story from there. I'll try to post once I finish each chapter, sharing my overall thoughts and analysis, and maybe once I finish each arc to stitch them all together and make predictions about the plot.

The road so far

Here are some assorted thoughts I've had on what I've read of the story so far:

Blake Thornburn is definitely a protagonist of all time. This little wet blanket of a man has successfully fled his toxic family, survived homelessness and got adopted into a found family of queer artists only to then be dragged back into his family's issues. And the skeletons in his grandma's closet want to eat his soul.

Also he totally fumbled a threesome. My dude simply can't get a win.

Rose Thornburn is a character who is completely devoid of any trans subtext, thank you very much. At the beginning I thought she was an excellent addition to the story, being a tool to get Blake to externalize his thought process and opinions. The first arcs would have been really dry without her. But she has grown so contrarian; convincing her to help is now an additional step Blake has to do every time he comes up with a new plan of action. I suspect she might become an antagonist even before the end. Is it just me? Is it some kind of ingrained misogyny?

Evan is the best character in the story. He's such a ray of sunshine that every line of his is like a breath of fresh air in this dark and gritty narrative Blake is trapped in. Please, let him become a fire bird. I beg you. He's just a cinnamon roll too pure for this world.

The magic system is maybe the best I've ever seen and is definitely what makes the story stand out. It feels like what I, almost instinctually, always imagined magic should work like. But defined and refined to a point where it actually becomes a usable set of rules. Everything from true names, binding, spirits, demesnes... It's ugh, so good! I will probably dig more into each of those elements as they come up in the next chapters because there's so much to chew on.

The monsters. The author has this amazing ability of grabbing well-known concepts of mythological creatures and giving them their own spin while at the same time seemingly distilling them to their core appeal. After meeting Wildbow's goblins, that's how I expect all other goblins to be like. The same goes for demons, fey, ghosts... As with the magic system, I'll dig into each of those as they come up in the next chapters.

During the discussion of the binding contract, the imp Pauz has mentioned some “inviolable rules", which caught Blake's attention for a second but were not clearly explained. This has been living rent-free in my head since then and I am very sure it will come back later.

Isadora, the sphinx, could step on me. Also, she has mentioned the fact that in the classical Greek myth Oedipus actually gave the wrong answer. I've been dying to know what is the true answer the the classic sphinx riddle, but unfortunately I don't think it will be revealed...

The way they defeated Conquest was, to me, a total copout. I couldn't fully follow Blake's plan until it was all over, and I can't understand why Conquest needed to travel into the mirror world to catch Rose when previously he just pulled her out of it like it was nothing. It just felt anticlimactic to me.

Also, please, can we actually just give him an actual arsenal of stuff he can use? I know Wildbow likes to keep his protagonists as the underdog but this is getting ridiculous. This magic system allows for basically anything but still our main man only has two or three tricks up his sleeve at any time and is constantly losing resources as fast as he can get more of them.

Last time I saw Blake he was swallowed whole by an ontophagic demon, being completely erased from reality as we know it and leaving Rose to steal his life. I know he'll come back, he's the protagonist after all, but I'm really excited to see how it will play out. Will he fight his way out Hell itself? Like Kratos??

The spoilers I already got

I don't care that much about spoilers, but still would like to avoid them if possible. I decided to list here what I could already gather from the future of the story simply by osmosis from the fandom:

There will be a mermaid called Green Eyes who is super cute in a “bite your face off" kind of way.

Blake will become part tree(?).

The ending is bittersweet at best.

#Dezi reads #wildbow #pact #liveblogging #liveblogging pact #pact web serial #pactblr #pact spoilers #otherverse

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flickynightdarkness · 11 months ago

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Fun fact of my DC OCs

Many of them have counterparts from different DC universes whether they be from The 2004 Series/Matsudaverse, Animated Universe/BTAS/TNBA/Beyond, Nolanverse, Harley Quinn Series, Arkhamverse or Tomorrowverse

Hallow Crane/Lauren Crane/Laurent Crane have 7 counterparts

BTAS/TNBA counterpart is a human wearing a cloaked outfit and a mask revealing bright red eyes, he has a prosthetic arm which allows him to attach his other arm filled with sharp objects

2004 Series counterpart shows as a Victorian era villain, wearing a distorted face that covers his 'face marks' and with that he carries a sickle tied to a chain as a weapon. However he was removed out of the universe like how Scarecrow was on the entire series

Nolanverse counterpart shows them as a calm, collected young man working as a therapist, however he also gains knowledge of fear as well. He wears a mask similar to Nolanverse! Scarecrow's, but his stitched mouth can moves whenever he speaks

Happy Halloween Scooby Doo counterpart reveals as an ally to Meredith and Shade, helping the two

Gotham counterpart goes by the name of Haunt, he was obsessed with anything horror, and was part of the Dread Quadrio alongside Marv, Raindrop and Sunshine

Tomorrowverse counterpart is of Stephen, a horror fanatic who is completely tired with everything in his d#mn life

Harley Quinn Series counterpart is quite sympathetic and he likes horror aesthetics

Tootsie Jingles has one counterpart

2004 Series counterpart is a clown demon alongside his fan(also Jamie Quinzel's counterpart)

Jamie Quinzel has one counterpart

2004 Series counterpart is that she is an admirer of a clown demon(revealed to be Tootsie's counterpart in that universe.) She mostly wishes of being like them to which she comes to his circus to meet them in person

Katherine Kyle/Katelyn Kyle has one counterpart

2004 Series counterpart is a boy named Coal Kyle, he has an obsession with cats and shiny things, with that he will do anything to get his claws on them

Ray Nygma has two counterparts

2004 counterpart goes by the name Jade, he is introverted who spends his day solving crosswords or a word game. That did change when he made friends, they loved his skills of solving any riddle(one of them being Trace Dent's counterpart, and the other is the sister of Evelyn's counterpart.) Well unfortunately when he founds out that one has died and the other was removed from the universe. He decided to take his word solving skills and his dark humor to a new level, by using them together to commit crimes. Jade is allies with Talon's counterpart Covey

Gotham counterpart is named Joshua, he is shown to be allies with Talon's counterpart Flint

Evelyn Wesker and Stitcher both have one counterpart each

2004 Series shows their counterparts who are much younger than the Ventriloquist and Scarface. Even their relationship matches them. Stitcher's counterpart was created by the sister of her counterpart but she was unsuspectedly killed

Scotch Tetch/Bowie Tetch have two counterparts

Tomorrowverse shows their counterpart as a close ally to Stephen, he speaks in a British accent and is obsessed with rabbits

Gotham counterpart is named Marv who us part of the Dread Quadrio alongside Haunt, Raindrop and Sunshine

Kaleb Langstrom/Fangs Langstrom have one counterpart

2004 Series counterpart has anxiety, has bloodshot eyes and heavy eyebags from not getting enough sleep

Coona Walker has one counterpart

2004 Series counterpart is a male moth wearing clothes that moths can easily attach to

Talon Cobblepot/Feather Cobblepot have two counterparts

2004 Series counterpart's name is Covey, he is a bird lover and he is accompanied by the aider of Kabuki Twins named Koko who he secretly takes an interest to

Gotham counterpart is named Danny, he is closely friends with Ray's counterpart Joshua

Berg Fries/Snow Fries have one counterpart

2004 Series counterpart has his entire body turned into a undead frostbitten being

Torch Lynns/Ember Lynns has one counterpart

2004 series counterpart is Australian who started using fire for firework festivals until he decides using them to terrorise the city

Kraig Jones has one counterpart

2004 Series counterpart is Welsh and is much calmer but still hostile to everyone, except for his friends

Lucian Dorrance has one counterpart

2004 Series counterpart is a Mexican-American who is mostly overdosed with plasma, molten magma and the Venom altogether to make him stronger

#dc ocs #dc oc #dc #ocs #oc #oc fun facts #hallow crane #tootsie jingles #jamie quinzel #talon cobblepot #dcau #btas #tomorrowverse #the batman 2004 #gotham #katherine kyle #ray nygma #trace dent

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gordonengineswifenirmal · 6 months ago

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Thomas and Nirmal lol

I was watching this yesterday -

youtube

N tbh, it’s funny. @9:26, he goes in about how he was more into the live action elements than the Thomas segments. He was more bored by the Thomas segments n enjoyed the station house skits more. Tbh - I liked trains, as me dad n his mates were into them, n I liked the Thomas segments. The issue here was I don’t really remember them. I remember Thomas more for his association with shining time. I remember watching the show as I got ready for school in gone morning. I also remember being too old for it even then, but it was cute n harmless, n I enjoyed it. Mum was happy because it wasn’t offensive. Like can, I was watching more for tiny ringo n George Carlin. In fact I had become aware of the show because I was obsessed with the Beatles already, n was watching more for ringo. I remember the jukebox band being amusing, but kinda weird. lol. Schemer was funny. He reminded me of some of the blokes the golden girls dated.

Anyhoo, somehow, I wasn’t aware of him in the 80’s. Thundercats, inspector gadget, heathcliff, Garfield, he man and she ra, transformers, even count ducula n duck tails for some odd reason? The latter two were weird af, but I watched them. They weren’t memorable favs, but they did amuse me. I was a i also remember car 54 where are u n get smart reruns. And this old house. Bob Vila lol. I was often busy in me own world then.

Somewhere between then n 2 years ago, a lot of life happened. I’ve revisited dark shadows a few times, 1776, several 60’s and 70’s musicians, some evergreen actors like ray bolger n jimmy stewart, the desi side of me heritage, and more.

Then it happened. My world fell apart. Mum because seriously ill in 2021. It started off small. I was in the middle of me last semester of college, a day in February, doing online classes, when the drs rang. I had also realised I was sexual about a month bdfore, and was beginning to explore this. Mum had some blood leaking somewhere that they couldn’t find. She was in n out of hospital. In may, things got more serious. June was worse. I managed to graduate, n then was going to Plymouth meeting near Philadelphia frequently in hopes she’d pull thru. At the end of July, she passed. I had been married at the time, I had gotten married in 2002. The husband n I had never been really intimate, n we had awkward times, but we were friends. (We still are, despite the fact that he’s thicker than an influencers bubble bum). He decided out of the blue that September, that we would divorce. I was still reeling from mums death. I wasn’t really able to process the divorce too. He had secretly been living with a female roommate who he claimed was lesbian, n divorced from her partner. Whatever. I trusted him, because he was never a ladies man when I knew him, and wasn’t really into sex in general.

He then asked if I’d cat sit over New Year’s Eve. He told me he was going on holiday n do was the rooommate. Cool. I figured as often happens, they were going at the same time, but to their own seperate destinations. Hoo-boy. So I get to his place, n the cats were adorable. There was no telly or anything, so I mucked about on the phone n I believe the iPad or laptop. I forget now. I started feeling wierd when I saw a pic of him posing next to the roommate. It wasn’t overtly sexual, but it was unnerving. It was….unnatural. Getting him to pose with me, unless it was for his immigration, was like pulling teeth. I kept getting the feeling something was going on. A couple days after new years, he let me know he’d b delayed. I got to stay with the cats longer. I was happy, but tried to ignore that damn picture.

Someone sent me a couple Thomas parodies. I enjoyed them. They were the George Carlin compilation dubs of swearing, and Ernest the engine. They were brilliant, and led the curiosity to check out the series again. I was actually looking for shining time, but found the original Thomas clips without the shining time bits tacked on. (Despite my upbringing, I was relatively unaware of Thomas until he was on pbs.) I decided to watch n see how I felt. The jaws immediately dropped n I sat there questioning meself. I thought ‘is stress causing me to find these trains good looking? What did I just think? Huhhhhh? Lmfaooooo’. I kept watching, and they kept getting better looking.

I’ll b honest, I hadn’t remembered there being other engines. I remember dad having a toy Annie or Clarabelle buried somewhere under the mess that was our dining room table. He had purchased her for some project he never got to. I hadn’t made the connection back then. Damn. Missed opportunity, that. Then again, I would have lost me Thomas stuff in the several moves that took place. I digress.

I returned home the next month, only to be sidelined by a swollen kidney that required 2 weeks bedrest. (This would be one of many that would eventually lead up to last year’s hysterectomy n 3 week hospital stint.) I binged the show whilst I healed. Up until season 5, it was just a succession of sexy male engines. We still had sexy males, but then we started getting more females and ugly engines. Diversity n the way of progress, I suppose. I did a couple digital drawings during this time. I need to really go back n practice more. As I got better, I started playing with the show clips, n put together that lovely filthy audio full length film I have swimming about somewhere here. I started collecting, i started writing filthy fanfics. Thomas got me into all sorts of creative things. I revisited the love of trains, and that’s bustling more than ever.

The frustrations I had with attraction (or lack thereof) with people has now found a healthy and amusing channeling via the engines. It’s given me confidence, n I no longer need to persue blokes (who were all adults - there were a few blokes who were just barely legal who were into me as a fetish, n I wasn’t going to entertain that. I’m not cougar material. It made me uncomfortable. I was into older men.) when I was into men, it was more for attention n validation. I had been so deprived of it all me life, I felt maybe it would help me feel whole. Yeah….no. However, apparently talking steam engines with sexy faces does tho, so yay!

#thomas and friends #thomas the tank engine #trains #steam engine #steam locomotive #train #ttte #ttte gordon #gordon the big engine #gordon the express engine #backstory #thomasallgrownup #apothisexual #asexual #Youtube

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lattedecoffee · 1 year ago

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Been rewatching winx club (the rai dub ofc; was a great part of my childhood, I dropped off during early S6 tho) and I just got to the first episode of S2. And like I was excited because Layla/Aisha will get to exist now and also Dark Bloom but I forgot about Darkar.

Well, I remembered that he existed, but I forgot just how over the top he was. Like in his first episode, he chucks Layla off a cliff and just assumes this will kill her despite her being a fairy (like ik she's exhausted at this point but I don't think you should just assume she's incapable of flying lol), he hisses like a fucking cat at the pixies (this is apparently intimidating...?) and yells "SPEAK OR SUFFER" at Chatta.

Like I cannot take this man seriously. His theme is still great (and I legit had to pause when it first played because nostalgia was hitting like a truck) but he himself is just so over the top in his edginess and I kinda love it.

Speaking of Winx Club villains: gotta love how the Trix go from basic school bullies to interdimensional terrorists in the span of like 2 episodes, it's like if the plastics in Mean Girls were gonna try and nuke the school

And if anyone's interested: my favorite Winx girl changes constantly but rn it's Flora, least favorite is Stella 9 times out of 10. Best of the boyfriends is Nabu, worst is Riven (his character development during S1 where he learns to not be the fucking worst was great except he just goes back to being shitty in every other season. Musa leave this man and go get with Tecna, Timmy can share). Favorite villains besides the Trix are the wizards of the black circle from S4, idk why but they've always stuck with me.

Also yes I wrote shitty self-insert next-generation fanfiction about it when I was 9 (the self-insert was Roxy's daughter) and it is buried in my google drive where no one can find it because holy fuck is it bad.

Wow this was a long post but yk sometimes you gotta talk about your childhood shows that you're rewatching as an adult and appreciating just as much if not more so.

#winx club #nostalgia

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btscontentenjoyer · 1 year ago

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I loooved reading this! I'm already digging the mood and style of the story so much, and the characters are great as well. Can't wait to see where this goes!!

"Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him." That's very very true 🥺 Already from the first paragraph Hoseok is sooo likeable, with the big contrast between him and Jungkook it will be even harder for OC to adjust to Jungkook's mood and personality when what she's used to is cheery Hoseok.

“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that." So she's perfect for Jungkook's assistant if she's already so on top of things! But I have a feeling that's not what they'll think at first huh 😬😬😬

“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—” Oh daaaamn his reputation really precedes him. How do you actually go in to meet him neutrally with no expectations when you know all of that beforehand lol.

“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.” I'd be very very reluctant to work with him if I heard him talking like that for sure, poor OC 😔😔😔

"He’s unfairly handsome. He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night." Ooop 👀👀👀 I know I'd be so pissed about someone who's acting like that being that gorgeous, like that's always felt unfair to me lol.

“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states." He literally didn't stop being a jerk through that entire meeting 😔

"But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father." Hell yeah!!! She seems really competent and devoted to her job, so I'm excited for her to prove all of his prejudices wrong. But I'm not looking forward to him trying to test and humiliate her in all the different ways :((

"You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised." Hehe 😌😌😌

"It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you." Well that sucks a lot, but I feel like her keeping her confidence and determination as much as possible is the only way she can get him to change his behaviour.

“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.” Alriiiight, there's that little hint of humanity 🥺

“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies." Yoongi's nice 🥺🥺🥺 I know OC mentioned this before but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more and more that kindness like this is rare in business, although her team seems really nice too.

"But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to." Okay this is honestly really attractive from both of them!! Like I know Jungkook is a bit unnecessarily rude to people sometimes, but I love people who are competent, confident, hard working and command respect. And OC standing her ground even before such an intimidating person as him is so!!! Admirable and attractive!

"Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow." Ah the self defense mechanism that actually feels more like self sabotage 😔😔😔

“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.” Lol it happens a lot??? That sounds like an interesting workplace, no wonder Do-hyun knew so many things about Jungkook's private life.

“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs. “Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.” 👀👀👀

“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?” Oh my god this man!! I wonder how many hidden gestures like this there will be before he gets over his fear and stubbornness.

"But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long." Ooooh that hits a bit close to home, poor Kook <3 It's really not a happy or healthy way to live.

"He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process." I can already see this hurting a lotttt. Him holding himself back from something that can make him happy just because he's afraid to get hurt, and in the process hurting her 😔😔😔

I've missed reading your writing, Mimi! These scenes felt so full and fulfilling somehow and I love that. With this and the fact that it's a slowburn combined, I'm so excited to spend a lot of time with our characters and really get to know them. I love that we're getting glimpses into both of their minds and POVs. There's always two sides of a story and I like that we get to see a little bit of both of their motivations. Jungkook as mysterious and grumpy as he is, is very intriguing of course. But your OC's are always so interesting and distinctive that I'm really looking forward to learning more about Ms Cho as well. And the rest of the team of course!! I'm really really looking forward to the rest of the series!

I Want You to Stay (01) | 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: 12k

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: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕

Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰

Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.

It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee.

You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile.

He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.

It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise.

“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”

Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss.

“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”

“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”

“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”

“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”

At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh.

“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”

“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”

You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved.

At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”

He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again.

“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”

“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”

“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.”

“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”

“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”

“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.”

“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.

Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly.

But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.

You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.

You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong.

Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants.

She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face.

“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”

You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly.

“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”

“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.

“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in.

“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true.

And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his.

But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay.

“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”

The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss.

“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room.

You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.

“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?”

Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head.

“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”

“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”

“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”

“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down.

With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile.

“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”

You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.

“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”

“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues.

“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”

“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”

“But I—”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass.

You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.

“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.

“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.

In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala.

As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell.

He’s unfairly handsome.

He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.

The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze.

“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.

“If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him.

“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters.

“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”

Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.

Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”

“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say.

Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.

“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says.

“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached.

“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”

You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.

Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.

Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway.

“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”

“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”

Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.

Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok.

Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them.

There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point.

“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison.

“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”

“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind.

“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”

“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”

Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.

“No.”

“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”

“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”

He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.

“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”

“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”

“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.

“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”

“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”

“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds.

“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”

“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”

“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.

“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”

“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”

You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.

But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.

“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around.

But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father.

You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.

“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”

“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk.

A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”

You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out.

As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says.

“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly.

“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”

“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”

You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.

“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”

“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”

“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”

You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day.

You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day.

All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.

Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks.

You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so.

You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you.

There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily.

You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised.

“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.

“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”

You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.

“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs.

He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.

“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?”

“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.

You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in.

“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”

You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed.

You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.

Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first.

He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.

“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”

“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what’s my week like?”

You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected.

Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make.

You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed.

But of course, he has to ruin it again.

“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings.

Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done.

You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough.

It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough.

You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon.

It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day.

They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.

His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.

“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.

He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting.

How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t.

You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting.

It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you.

Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs.

You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same.

You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge.

You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files.

You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents.

“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that.

“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door.

You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.

You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger.

It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.

“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes.

“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.”

You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.

Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours.

Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.

“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything.

But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.

You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.

[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you?

You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation.

You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do.

It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty.

You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.

“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”

“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more.

“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.

He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you.

“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.

“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”

“Well, duty calls. What can I do?”

“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies.

“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle.

“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites.

Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment.

“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.

“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”

“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”

“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs.

You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction.

You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.

“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”

“It will,” you smile. “Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”

“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing.

“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it.

You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career.

“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.

“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm.

You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.

“Need help?” Yoongi asks.

“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.

“You brat.”

You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this.

“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder.

You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today.

From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.

He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision.

Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.

Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.

But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.

That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.

He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.

That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you.

Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.

Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.

But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.

“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”

Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.

“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”

“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly.

Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.

“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”

“So you’re actually friends?”

“Yes.”

“Were you more?”

Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.

“Does it matter?” The older man asks.

“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”

Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede.

But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply.

“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”

Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.

“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. ��You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know? But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”

“How are you still friends?”

“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.

“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”

“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”

“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs.

Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”

“How brave,” Jungkook remarks.

“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans.

“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”

“I already do. That’s why I…”

“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”

“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.

“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”

“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.

“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”

Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.

“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”

“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.

“The cafe down the street, then?”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans.

But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.

So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.

“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says.

“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”

“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”

Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now.

He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.

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