#ri says things the tag
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as a firm transmasc tsukasa truther. i like to believe that his first transmasc awakening was seiichi amami and his second transmasc awakening was kaito but he was completely oblivious that it was, in fact, trans awakening until last year of middle school
tsukasa age 7, staring at seiichi amami's performance: wow he's so cool i wish i was just like him :) (because i want to be a star and make saki smile, obviously)
tsukasa age 9, after kaito v3 has released: wow he's so cool i wish i was just like him :) (because he's my favorite vocaloid and a big inspiration for me, obviously)
tsukasa age 14 after he got hit by the realization that "i wish i was just like him" is actually on a bit more personal level:
#i almost typed adhd tsukasa instead of transmasc tsukasa.#“as a firm adhd tsukasa truther-” yeah we know ri we know#this is messily written because i cannot convey my thoughts once again. HOWEVER#i needed to get it out of my system as a guy whose trans awakening was tsukasa tenma himself. lol#project sekai#pjsk#prsk#tsukasa tenma#wonderlands x showtime#ri says things the tag
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Mainly aimed towards marauders fans bc I see a lot of people being really aggressive about it there but:
💫 Not liking fanon characterisation doesn't make you better than the people who do 💫
Someone changing a character to fit how they enjoy seeing them isn't a crime bc it's a fictional character
Making a character queer in canon content isn't ruining them and it doesn't make the writing cheap or stupid
You can address harmful stereotypes without being a bitch and shutting down entire perceptions of the character because it isn't usually the older writers and artists creating flawed presentations and it's certainly not all of them, you're just being dramatic and trying to demonise an exploration of a character that you don't agree with.
Reminder that a lot of fandom creators especially in the marauders and ofmd fandoms are minors. Young teenagers writing in their school break don't need to be screamed at and called homophobes or racists for making accidentally including a stereotype into the character, they may appreciate being warned about the misconceptions so they can correct them...but berating creators and saying they're all fucking everything up and destroying everything is not helpful; it's mean and they aren't going to take your advice, they're just never going to write again. If you don't like the characterisation just fucking ignore it like the rest of us.
You're a dick 🥰
#feel like I gotta say this every damn week#tagging the main fandoms I see this in#marauders era#especially you guys#'making him a twink is homophobic and pathetic' you are bullying a THIRTEEN YEAR OLD#cut them some slack Jesus fucking Christ#but also#good omens#our flag means death#nbc hannibal#not as much with these ones but I still see it so idk#'making the black brothers skinny and pretty undermines their characters' they are CANONICALLY PRETTY#reg being skinny is one of the only things we know ab him and Harry calls Ris pretty/handsome multiple times#you just undermined your own damn point#I don't see them as fragile twinks either but I'm not bullying 12 year old for it bc...they're 12. they'll learn#fandom tumblr#mwpp era#marauders#tagging that one so many times bc y'all are vile sometimes#GET A JOB
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If you are capable of replacing any ai complaints with the word Photoshop and match the quote to things people actually said back when that was introduced maybe you should think about how wrong and silly we see those anti Photoshop people now. That's just my salt on the topic. Idk.
#boomer mindset that it's taking jobs it's shifting jobs just like Photoshop did#just as many jobs available. just different ones now.#ri rambles#like it sucks photography studios are dead now but it happens unfortunately.#and there still are some!#and people still appreciate it!#sigh#ai discourse#for tag blocking#it is wrong for the thievery but art theft has been a thing as long as art. it sucks that it's easier now and it's shitty it happens#but it is fair use guys. it's transformative. please learn fair use#i can make a collage right now without permission and sell it and if its transformative it's legal.#i can remix or parody a song right now without asking#i agree that artists need to be treated better and acknowledged and loved and used but it's always been an issue there#this comes from someone trying to do art i should say in case anyone finds this and gets mad
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'start that music / in the name of the Lord' exactly what is Bollywood coming to
#film: tiger 3#ek tha tiger#tiger zinda hai#tiger 3#salman khan#katrina kaif#bollywood#local gay watches Bollywood.txt#can't believe i actually have to put a tag for Salmon but i told y'all already i would sit through this for my wife Katrina. it's uh#it's not looking good so far#i mean the visuals. at least they kept the classic Tiger visuals but what the f*ck are those lyrics#'flir-ta-ti-ous / con-ta-gi-ous / why sit there / so se-ri-ous' i need to rinse my eardrums out from that bridge tyvm#ok to be fair the line quoted in the post sounds better in Hindi but that's not saying much#i could say 'y'all better get your ass out here and turn it up we about to tear this sh*t up on God' and it would make more sense than that#Salmon still cannot dance. Katrina is dancing twice as hard to make up for it. somehow we ended up in Cappadocia#this year is the year of throwing caution to the wind. it sounded better when Shilpa was singing the line#when i tell you the only good thing about this was Katrina's fits istg i am not lying. cross my heart and hope to die this was torture#the minute they said Pritam was doing the music i should have prepared myself rip#you had such a good beat to work with. for ffs i am asking again what the f*ck are those lyrics#Swag Se Swagat was better than this what are we doing in this year of our Lord (pun not intended) 2023#edit: is this also the year of most Bollywood songs sounding better in Telugu and Tamil. bc that's what Leke Prabhu Ka Naam is doing rn
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THE BAAAAD TOUCH!
synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.
tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)
a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.
“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”
he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity.
“fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory.
“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there.
“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.”
you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair?
“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?”
“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle.
he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust.
“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?”
“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.”
“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.”
“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.”
“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.”
jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really.
“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, barely intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?”
he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him.
“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.”
and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it.
his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.
VANDER
. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes.
“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…”
he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide.
there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty.
vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care.
it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is.
“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust.
“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.”
who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were.
“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock.
hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it.
before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed.
the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it.
“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.”
he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted.
“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.
SILCO
silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon.
“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time.
“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?”
silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes.
“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts.
“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.”
“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?”
silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through.
“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.”
you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that.
“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.”
“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?”
“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.”
“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?”
but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?”
“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.”
you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content.
he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good.
“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?”
“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.”
the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly.
you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything.
“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy.
“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.”
you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name.
you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.
VIKTOR
“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.”
his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it.
“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?”
viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so.
“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.”
it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him.
but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?
he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself.
it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is.
maybe it’ll fit.
“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.”
“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all.
“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…”
you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only.
he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.”
you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak.
he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.
it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined.
“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.”
you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.
masterlist!
#✧ blood of reptile.#top male reader#dom male reader#top reader#dom reader#sub character#viktor x reader#jayce x reader#vander x reader#silco x reader#viktor x male reader#jayce x male reader#vander x male reader#silco x male reader#arcane#arcane smut#arcane x reader#arcane x male reader#arcane x you#viktor smut#jayce talis#vander#viktor arcane#silco#viktor x you#silco x you#male reader#x male reader#jayce smut#league of legends
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𝔠𝔲𝔡𝔡𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 || {𝔳𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰}
With Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Billy and Stu, Art the Clown, Vincent, Bo, Lester, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman, Thomas Sawyer
tags: AFAB reader (not specified), cuddling, affection, rz!Mikey, art is his own warning lmao, terrifier 2 spoilers, little spoon!slashers, nightmares (Sal), comfort, poly!Ghostface, I low-key rant about art in Vin's lmao
Michael
Exhaustion isn't something he's used to feeling so heavily in his bones. He feels the heavy weight rippling across his broad shoulders and spiraling down his spine in white hot pain. He's not a tame being, but he is a bit more docile in the months before and after Halloween. His knife doesn't thirst for blood quite as much as on the 31st.
Seeing you in your bed is a welcomed sight. Michael doesn't say much more than the soft grunt of acknowledgement as he sheds his coveralls from his dirt-caked skin. He has a lovely warm bath that loosens all the tight muscles of his lower back. You'll have his head later for leaving a ring of grime in the tub; Mikey doesn't care about that right now.
The fresh sheets are so comfortable, accepting them fully as Michael tucks his face into your side. His recently cut hair is still long enough to form a fringe curtain over his grey eyes.
Jason
Softly leans his chin to your shoulder. Depending on how far along you two are into your relationship, Jason might feel comfortable enough to have his mask removed. He's aware the material probably doesn't feel too pleasant being pressed to the side of your face or lightly digging into your skin.
His arms wind around your waist, happily sighing as he leans himself against you. Jason also doesn't mind if you switch things up and hold him in return, stroking the top of his head softly.
Brahms
If there's a way where he can wind his body around yours, Brahms will find it. He definitely likes keeping you away from all of the noise of the world, and while he's not mega happy about it, he knows you need trips into town sometimes. He likes seeing what kind of food items you bring back because the meals you make are simply delicious!
After dinner and bathing, Brahms snuggles beside you, clinging to you like you've been gone for ages. The chill of his porcelain biting into your skin as he happily huffs behind it. He's so glad to have you. <3
Billy and Stu
The pair are constantly together, if not with you, then they're almost always flanking each other's sides. The other is often not far from the first. Adding you into their duo to form a trio didn't change much of their dynamic. Instead of the two boys slinking around, they've got you as their third and final confidant.
Billy isn't the most touchy-feely person-- that's what he likes to claim. He doesn't really know how to ask for the things that he wants. He's different to Stu in the way that he's silent when you press your hand to the brunette's cheek, smiling as his eyelids flutter closed. Subconsciously leaning into your touch, chasing the feeling when you pull away.
Stu likes to be what he calls the mega spoon. It's him behind you, snuggled at your back, and with Billy pressed close to your chest still too proud to say that he enjoys being taken care of as the little spoon. You three make a nice, lovely three-person sandwich. Even when lying down, you're in the center with the boys wrapped around you like snakes. There is no them without you; you are their missing piece.
Art
This man is mostly, if not always, within your personal space. 'It's not yours, it's ours'. Art is rarely a being ever to break character or change out of his damned costume, and his hygiene is quite questionable sometimes; though he does in fact bathe and wash his suit. Just not often.
He's a man of very few words, especially when he's deep into his clown character and doing what he does best. Being immortal has its advantages, but his fight with Sienna really put him through the ringer. Art was decapitated! What a riot.
With his strength slowly returning to him, Art is always almost underfoot. In your bubble, seeing what you're doing. Snuggling up to you in a rare moment where his costume is off, leaning his head into your chest with an exhausted expression. It seemed that Pale Girl was allowing him some respite with you for a bit.
Vincent
He is a busy man, constantly sculpting and creating. His sketchbooks are filled to the absolute brim of beautiful works of art in all sorts of mediums: charcoal, graphite, watercolor, and ink. You're his muse, his favorite subject of which his art circulates. There's something so breathtaking about you, minute details that only an artist can see within people. An eternal, everlasting beauty.
Vincent is quick to jot down the rough outline of your sleeping form resting against Jonesy. He's smiling behind the wax mask, skilled fingers shading the crease of your eyelids then moving to sketch the curve of your Cupid's bow. When he felt it was finished enough for now, Vincent sets his book aside in favor of crawling into bed beside you.
His broad frame dwarfs yours as he curls his body around yours, his large hands slide beneath your sweater pressing across your tummy. Vincent really adores you, you know?
Bo
Not much of a cuddler, but if you get especially pouty about it Bo will roll his eyes and tug you to him. He can be a major asshole but he doesn't like seeing his baby upset.
He tucks you beneath his strong arm, his mechanic's hat resting on top of the back of the sofa. Waiting for you to settle down doesn't take long as you're soon drifting off with your head on his chest, focusing on his hand placed on your knee; gently stroking the skin there. His eyes begin to droop, feeling heavy. Cradling the back of your neck, Bo allows himself to drift off, too.
Lester
Long days certainly do get to him sometimes. Tiring him out something awful. He's prepared enough roadkill and deer for his brothers and you, enough to satiate any hunger for the time being until he finds time to run into the nearby town again.
Lester finds you lounging in his bed with Jonesy, Vincent must be working hard and the pup sought out attention where she could. He had no idea where Bo was or whatever the hell he was up to.
Collapsing onto the bed, Lester sighs deeply when you immediately comb your fingers through his messy short hair. He's out like a light soon after.
Sal Fisher
Poor guy has so much going on that sometimes he just wants to crash and sleep for one-thousand years. He doesn't sleep well on the best of days, plagued by frequent nightmares that not even the warmth and comfort of your sleeping form beside him can quell.
Another nightmare yanks Sal out of a fitful sleep. One that has him patting the sheets, searching for you. The heat of your skin against his hands sends a calming peace over him. He's scooping your sleeping form in his arms, his face hidden in your neck. Sal gives a weak smile as you snuggle into him. He focuses on your even breathing, allowing himself to fall asleep soon after.
Thomas
It's incredibly hot on the best of days in Duller County, the Sawyer family set up several oscillating fans that constantly work overtime without a proper functioning air conditioning unit.
Even the lackluster cool breeze and the sweltering Texan heat aren't enough to have Tommy pulling you into his lap and nuzzling his masked face into your hair.
You're much smaller than him. It gives Tommy a sense of pride knowing that he's your big, strong protector. :)
Patrick
He is such an enigma, a contradiction. Patrick isn't much of a cuddler or snuggler but he wants to play the role of being a dutiful partner. He is quick to become a jealous lover if you were to find someone else to give you attention while he's fretting over what sort of shade of cream or white Paul Allen's next business card will have.
A prideful, vain being such as himself would never admit how much he truly does enjoy having your curl up next to him. The warmth your body exudes is a comfort, one he finds him seeking out more and more even though your relationship is still within its earlier stages. Patrick hates that he finds himself being so undone by you, but he can't find it within himself to stop either. There's something inside of you that his fervent bloodlust can't be satisfied by.
|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||
#slashers x reader#slasher imagines#slasher x you#michael myers x reader#jason voorhees x reader#brahms heelshire x reader#billy x reader x stu#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#thomas sawyer x reader#art the clown x reader#cherubfae 2024#patrick bateman x reader
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Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.2 (Uncle!SukunaAu x Teacher!Reader)
Thanks so much for the love and support on pt.1 you guys are the besttt lol, honestly might be a 3 parter we'll see! ANyway, enjoy :0
Also pleaseee excuse any spelling errors yall
Link to Pt.1
PART THREE HERE!!!
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You stared at the text message, throat tight with excitement but dread. It had been a few months since the last incident with Yuji and his Uncle. The roguish male often picked up the young boy, tagging along with Yuji’s father. You’d usually just give Jin a rundown of his son’s day, ever so often catching Sukuna’s gaze as he leaned against the door frame. And every time it happened, you’d choke, clearing your throat and focusing your attention on Yuji and his father.
It didn’t help that he was always texting you, asking his his nephew was behaving. Even though it was cordial and polite, you still felt giddy getting texts from him.
This comes to the next point, why you’re sitting here practically gawking over the most recent message request from Yuji’s father.
-YOU HAVE A NEW MESSAGE:
Hello Miss Y/n! Do you babysit? I know Yuji loves having you as a teacher and I was wondering if you’d be interested in babysitting for him along with his Uncle while me and my wife go on vacation. Of course, you will be paid as well.
-Jin Itadori @ 6:28pm-
You wait to open it, pacing for a moment, thinking, first of all if you were available for the weekend and second, why couldn’t his uncle handle it?!
Well, given the man’s track record maybe an experienced hand in childcare could be useful. With a heavy sigh, you respond and you'd have to quickly come to terms with the fact that you would be essentially babysitting over 2 days with your students' hot uncle.
-----------
It's Friday now, and arrangements for you to simply drive Yuji back home and meet up there with his uncle were already in place. You were trusted with a spare house key, and their precious baby boy, who so seemed to be happier than a fly on shit that you would be spending even MORE time with him.
You gather your things and a few activities to pass the time, loading them into your car. Yuji insists on helping, carrying a small container of building blocks with his chubby hands. And god damn does he not stop talking while he does. It's adorable really, whatever comes off the top of the boy's head simply flying free.
"My-My uh uncle, he doesn’t have no girlfriend." He speaks, the statement making you choke.
"Ahaha is that so? He tells you to say that?" You joke, setting the pink-haired toddler in his car seat, and buckling him in with ease.
"MHM! My uh-" He coughs, quickly covering it with his elbow as you give a small 'good job' seeing as he's learning to keep his germs away from everyone, including you.
"My Uncle says uh he says that you got pretty eyes." He explains, your heart fluttering.
You sit in the driver seat finally, the boy still rambling on and on about what his uncle thinks about you. Though all you can do is respond with a simple, "Oh that's very kind, or a awee", Yuji is nonstop.
It’s quiet for a moment and as you’re pulling into the driveway when he says it, clear as day.
"Uncle says your ass is fat too."
You slam the brakes, the car jerking a bit when you do. What. The. FUCK-
The culprit is already awaiting you, arms folded over his chest as they flex. He’s got a white tank top on and a pair of black basketball shorts paired with slides and ankle socks.
Yuji squirms, growing ever more excited as Sukuna takes him out of the car seat and lightly jabs his knuckles to the boy's sides with a 'Rahhhh', as if he were some kind of tickle monster. Yuji of course laughs and if ALMOST makes you forget about what he'd just said a moment ago.
"Wanna help Miss Y/n put this inside?" Sukuna asks the small boy, handing him the block container from before. Yuji is quick to nod and scurry to the front door.
"I can bring the rest of this, Jin gave you the housekey right?" He asks, leaning against the frame of the car, your neck snapping towards him as you swallow thickly. Fuck you can see even more of the tats now in that shirt.
"U-Uhm yes, yes. I'll go get the door. I can get some of this too I-" You speak, fumbling to find the key. He only puts his hand up and shakes his head, the silver chain around his swishing a bit.
"Nah I gotchu. Yuji knows how to turn the TV on so he can watch his lil show for a bit.”
Sure enough, the minute you unlock the door, Yuji crawls atop the couch, using the remote to try his best to navigate. It takes a while, and he mispresses a few buttons but after about 5 minutes he manages to play something entertaining for him.
Sukuna had finished bringing your bags in as well as the one with activities in it, setting it on the stairs. He rolls his shoulder, pointing at Yuji who was immersed in the show.
"See." Sukuna hums, leaning against the countertop next to you, also skimming over the note. His body heat is practically radiating off of him, just standing by him is warming you up.
You nod in response, looking over the brief note Jin left for you both and according to what it said, your next step was to head up some leftovers for Yuji and then run him a bath.
"There’s two bathrooms so I can get the boy.” He offers, resting his hand behind his neck as you give a nervous laugh. FUCK this nervousness was most likely only on you. There’s no way he could be just as filled with anticipation as you were?!
You take the offer, giving a small thank you before fishing the shower and taking one considering you did just get off of work. Packed away in your bag was a set of comfortable clothes and a book with you figured would help pass the time once Yuji went to sleep.
You could hear footsteps and Yuji fussing back and forth with his Uncle.
“Hush man you’re making me look bad.” Sukuna groans, throwing the toddler over his shoulder as he giggles but continues to thrash, pounding tiny fists against the older male's back.
“No! NO BATH! I don’t wanna!” Yuji whines, his Uncle only growling in response.
“I’ll give you candy if you stop.”
And just like that it was quiet.
-8:30pm-
The night had gone smoother than you thought, you and Sukuna both interacting with Yuji as it’s beginning to be time to wind down. His eyes were beginning to get heavy and before you knew it he was slumped against the couch, clutching an unfinished sucker in one hand and a white puppy plush in the other. You smile, scooping him up and patting him when he stirs.
“Be right back, let me tuck him in.” You whisper, seeing Sukuna look up from his phone and nod, one arm slung over the sofa while he practically manspreads
-9:00pm-
Turns out, Yuji took a bit longer to fall asleep when he realized he was being put down and so you had to sit and pat him for an extra 30 minutes. And once you returned to the living room, there was Sukuna, still scrolling. Well, that was until you came in.
“Sorry, he wouldn’t go back to sleep.” You explain, sitting at the farthest end from him, picking up your book in the silence.
“So you like working up there? At the school?” He asks, putting his phone down to hold the conversation with you.
It takes you by surprise for a second but you are quickly to respond.
“Well yeah, I love the kids and I love working there and teaching them things. Yuji is a sweetheart and it’s definitely kids like him that make it all worth it.” You explain, a smile making its way to your lips.
“You got kids?” He asks, eyes on your frame as you laugh a bit in response
“Nah, don’t really plan on it right now either. Kids are difficult.” You answer, now facing him a bit more, body relaxed.
What was there to be so scared of?! He’s a chill guy who just so happened to be hot as fuck asking you about your career and life?!
“How about you? Kids? Working?” You flip, seeing him shift a bit uncomfortably.
“Hell nah. I see how Jin deals with Yuji and I’m not really cut you to be a dad. And for work well, I’m a priest.” He states, smirking at the surprised look on your face.
“R-Really??” You question definitely surprised.
“Nah I’m just fucking with you.” He laughs and you do the same, trying to keep your volume down since Yuji did just fall asleep.
-11:08pm-
It was crazy to believe you’d spent about two hours just talking back and forth, with him about his past, his brother, and his nephew. You about your own life and current living situations. Somehow the conversation took…a turn.
“Y’know, it’s funny because Yuji keeps telling me about these things you say and I think it’s so funny. Like he’s tone little wingman.” You laugh, seeing him grin right back at you.
“Yeah like what?” He asks, more teasing than anything.
“Well he said that you said I have pretty eyes and on the way here he goes, ‘uncle says your ass is fat’” you explain with a laugh that he doesn't return.
Instead you see his lip tuck between his teeth after he licks them.
“I did say that.”
Suddenly the room is hot, and you’re very aware of how sharp his canaines look in that stupid grin. How his hand is grinning the back of the couch cushion. And for some goddamn reason you just had to look down, that fucking print so visible against his inner thigh.
Your breath falters, eyes wide and you swallow back any doubt. So he had said all that stuff and it want just Yuji repeating something or just talking.
“I-Well I…Thank you? I-I mean I’d be lying if I said hadn’t looked at you too.” You admit, his body shifting to face you more, almost caging you in on the couch.
“I figured. Every time I come to pick up you can’t seems to form a sentence correctly .” He notes.
“Suku-“
“Ryo.” He corrects. Lifting the strap of your nightshirt over your shoulder, playing with the fabric for a moment.
“Ryo.” You test, hearing his exhale heavily.
“Let’s stop pretending there’s nothing happing and has been happening here. No rule against fooling around with me is there?” Sukuna tests, his hand trailing up to rest no on your neck, his thumb pulling your lower lip down.
“No.”
And with that your make the hood move to connect your lips, his arms immediately going to lift you up ans set you against his lap.
Damn does that bulge feel to much better resting between your legs than just looking at it.
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Authors note: OKAY YEHA ITs gonna be a 3 parter with smut in the next one I cant resist lol yall know smut is my specialty! LMK if you wanna be added to the taglist shawty!
Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @minaloq @kriegsumire-blog @samisfunky @peachhiz @teupaidecalcinhasblog @khaotic-luca @gurutoru @molita111 @snail-squasher @rowrowrowyourboat13
#x reader#reader is black#sukuna x reader#unkuna#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk au#jjk headcanons#uncle sukuna#jjk x reader
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I Want You to Stay (07) | 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; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 15.4k
Series Masterlist
Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
A/N: One of my fave chapters! I hope you like this one! And just a heads up that intervals between posting days will be longer as the chapters get longer, too. And bc u know, life... HAHA but again, thank you so much for all the love for this like??? HOW. PLS you've all been so nice so thank you! 🥰 Also… JK in that SNTY suit.
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
Mr. Ri loads the luggages in the trunk and you double check that all bags - which you helped pack yesterday - are complete. You enter the car right after and head to the airport where Jungkook will fly to Singapore for a few meetings and to attend Seokjin’s alcohol launch party.
It’s been over a month since the Arts Center event and so much has happened since then. Jungkook went to Jeju to meet an artist and then to Japan over a weekend to meet another two. He’s been on calls with a few more with plans to meet in their country of residence in the next months, and he’s gone around different local towns to meet with craftspeople for souvenirs and future exhibitions. He’s also touched base with various national and international Korean arts and culture organizations for promotion and joint projects. The event opened doors for a new network that he hoped for. There are now proposals for other collaborations and side engagements that’s doing a lot for the company’s brand and expansion.
To say that Jungkook and the team have been busy is an understatement. You went back to work after those few days of recovering with everyone overwhelmed by all the things they had to do but like you expected, you all managed and got things organized. There are still multiple things to handle all at once, but everyone’s just been on top of everything and showing how competent you all are as individuals and as a team.
Within that period, Jungkook has stopped by the team’s office and the pantry more times than those first months. He also managed to laugh at Do-hyun’s unfiltered remarks a few times and even slipped his own that got the team giggling. He’s seemed a lot more relaxed and so has the team. Lunch meetings have been regular given all the work you all have to do. Yohan and Chin-sun even say that they’ve gotten to know Jungkook a little better through their visits to the Arts Center. And while they do think he’s still a bit detached and catch him in his own world sometimes, he’s a lot more engaged and is actually way smarter than they’d initially thought.
Jungkook checks his phone and sighs, prompting you to turn to him.
“Seokjin says the party is an intimate event but there’s gonna be over two-fifty guests so I don’t know about that,” he shakes his head, showing you the restaurant bar where his friend will be launching his alcohol brand. “For some reason, he expects me and Tae to entertain guests on his behalf.”
This was another development you hadn’t expected. Since that morning when Jungkook sent you food when you were unwell, your relationship changed. It’s still professional but there’s more openness now, as if that prompted both of you to be comfortable around each other.
There’s more trust and honesty, too - he lets you make decisions, lets you handle the team when he’s away, and asks you for your unfiltered opinion. You feel like all the time you spend together has allowed you to learn how he sees and understands things; you even finish his sentences sometimes.
He’s also loosened up a bit and allows himself to laugh and smile more. They’re still rare occurrences but you never point them out, not wanting him to feel awkward and then stop. They often catch you off guard so you haven’t been able to fully appreciate them but at least he feels comfortable around you, enough to even talk about non-work stuff and things that fill his mind, like random questions or small concerns.
You’re unsure if he notices how uninhibited he’s become but you don’t point it out either. He still has his moments of living in his head, his faraway thoughts rendering him quiet and observant, and his perfectionist attitude means he’s still critical sometimes. But he doesn’t take anything out on you - not his frustrations nor his fears. He’d usually keep to himself and talk to you once he’s cooled down and you’d take that any day, so long as you keep your sanity and are able to do your tasks as instructed.
In return, you let yourself be the same. You’ve fully restored your confidence and that’s allowed you to show just how capable you are. You’ve been more vocal with your thoughts, too, and don’t take it personally when he doesn’t agree. You smile a lot more, joke with him even, and have been more generous with words of encouragement and affirmation. They come more naturally than you expected, and you appreciate that he doesn’t turn you away whenever it happens.
He’s actually okay to be around when he’s not being grumpy or difficult. You suppose that the situations he was put in - and how you responded with patience and understanding - allowed him to see that you’re truly on his side and that let him put his guard down a little. You’re past trying to please him for the sake of making your job bearable; there’s actual joy in it now, and while the search for who you are outside of all this continues to ring in your head, you think that sticking around for now isn’t so bad either.
“Perhaps Seokjin has seen how good you are with entertaining guests now and deems you worthy of being an extension of him,” you respond to Jungkook’s earlier musings. “And he wouldn’t be wrong. You’ve become really good at it.”
“You know, I think you oversell me sometimes,” he chuckles.
“Hmm, I think I don’t,” you counter. “If I may say so, Mr. Jeon, it's just that the bar was pretty low so the improvements are quite striking.”
“Fair enough,” he laughs, not taking offense.
“You can still do better at charming people. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from Seokjin and Taehyung,” you push.
“Those two flirt, they don’t charm,” he playfully rolls his eyes.
“Well, I completely disagree, sir. I mean, I’ve seen it firsthand. And I’m not one who’s easily charmed.”
“Fine, I’ll see what I can pick from them, then,” he concedes.
“Kidding aside, I think you’ll be fine, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s unrelated to work so there’s no need to impress anyone,” you state.
“True,” he hums. “But just thinking about these next few days is already making me tired. Tae rented a yacht for tonight. We have Seokjin’s launch tomorrow, and to celebrate, he’s throwing another party the day after.”
“Hmm, must be that you’re getting old,” you tease, earning you a hum in agreement. “But you’re used to that though, right? They always said that was your life back in Singapore.”
“It was. I had less responsibilities and people to manage but back then, everything seemed too much,” he shares. “I took the weekends seriously and really just did whatever I wanted. I haven’t done much of that these past weeks because I’ve been so tired and I feel like I’m under the microscope when I’m here. So yeah, I’ll probably just take advantage of being back there and just enjoy it.”
“As you should,” you say. “You’ve worked hard and you deserve to spend your weekend however you wish. Just, uh…”
“What?”
“Probably give Lucas a heads-up in case a half-naked woman greets him in the kitchen on Monday morning.”
The silence is deafening and you think you’ve crossed a line with this one. You turn towards him and he looks stunned at your unfiltered remark.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in apology. “That was too personal.”
“It’s okay,” he responds after a beat of silence. “I guess I deserve that. I mean, I never apologized for the morning when you experienced exactly that. And for when you found that underwear on the floor, which I forgot to clean up. So, uh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, too. I got over it,” you assure him. “And if anything, I’m pretty sure she left that on purpose so she’ll have a reason to come back.”
“That’s exactly it,” he groans. “She saw me again and wanted to go to my apartment so she could get it. I told her I threw it away.”
“How brutal,” you tease again.
“Not my finest moment but yeah, I’m sorry to put you in that position. Must’ve been tough seeing proof of all the washroom gossip.”
“You know about those?” You gasp.
“I’ve heard about them,” he sighs. “Mr. Ri’s got eyes and ears in the office.”
“It’s hard to defend so I just don’t try,” the older man shakes his head. “Not like you deny it anyway.”
“Not like I really care,” Jungkook shrugs. “But even then, I guess it wasn’t the best start for us,” he tells you.
“Perhaps not, but I’m not one to judge, Mr. Jeon. That’s all in the past now, and that feels like a lifetime ago.”
“It does,” he hums.
It’s during these casual exchanges when you get to see a bit more of Jungkook as the person that he is, beyond the perfectionist executive who still harbors fears and worries about his new role. He’s still a human being who finds ways to deal with the stresses of life, someone who needs time to step away from his burdensome responsibilities, someone who seeks intimacy and connection and finds ways to attain them in his own ways. The doubts and worries are still there, but the foundation has stabled a bit. Somehow you think that you’ve created a space safe enough for him to talk about them, to apologize, and to try to be better. You hope he gets to create that for himself, too, and if that’s what you’ll leave him with by the time you decide to step away from this job, you think you’d be satisfied.
Silence engulfs you both and like he often is after being vulnerable with you, he keeps to himself once again. You wait a while before running through his meetings for today and next week and inform him of what the team will be working on while he’s away. Jungkook responds with a few last-minute instructions, especially about the tasks he needs done in time for your team meeting on Monday. You’re both back to professional talk and you don’t really mind; there’s something about being honest and open that could be a bit disarming.
The car stops and Mr. Ri exits to retrieve the luggage from the trunk. Jungkook, in his navy blue suit, gathers his things and says goodbye. Before he can close the door, you call out his name.
“Yeah?” He asks, his one hand carrying his bag and the other, on the roof of the car as he bends to look at you.
“Happy birthday,” you say. “I know you think it’s just an ordinary day but I hope you celebrate well.”
“Thank you,” he says after a few seconds, basking in the softness of your smile for the short moment that he can.
Jungkook steps away then closes the door. He heads to the airport lounge before taking the 6-hour flight to Singapore, spending it on reviewing reports and design proposals. He goes straight to the office when he lands, settling down in his room where he responds to emails. He munches on some dumplings for lunch, thinking he’s missed the ones from the restaurant across the street, but then Lucas enters and sets down a bowl of seaweed soup.
“Ms. Cho asked me to get this for you, Mr. Jeon.”
Jungkook is caught off guard but manages to dismiss Lucas and tastes the dish. It’s nothing like his mother’s, but then again, he hasn’t had it in years. When Jungkook moved here, there were no celebrations apart from getting drunk at a club, which is also why he’d stopped thinking of his birthday as anything special. There were no traditional meals or well wishes or birthday cakes.
He’s here again. There’s that yacht party tonight but it won’t feel like a celebration. Somehow, with this bowl of soup, this does. You’re a thousand miles away but even then, he still feels your presence. Even then, he feels more cared for than he has these past several years combined.
Jungkook wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache. His neck feels a bit strained, given that he’d slept in an awkward position wearing his clothes from last night. He also barely remembers much. One minute he was drinking with a woman around his arm and the next he’s… here.
He shifts and lays flat on his back, groaning as last night’s happenings manifest in the soreness of his entire body. The yacht was fancy, as he’d expected from his best friends. There was overflowing food and drinks, the music was great, and the guests were honestly too many for his liking. There were familiar faces and new ones, but he mostly stuck around with those he knew. What he also remembers is not being able to taste his cake. He’s definitely calling Seokjin to complain.
Suddenly hit with the thought of not knowing how he’d gotten home last night - or with whom - Jungkook sits up and groans once more, the incoming call adding to the ringing sound in his head.
“Mr. Jeon,” Lucas answers on the other end. “How are you feeling today?”
“Terrible,” Jungkook says, now finding the strength to get off the bed. “Did you take me home?”
“Yes, sir. You wanted to leave so Mr. Ri and I took you to your penthouse,” Lucas answers. “Your valuables are on the table.”
Jungkook sighs, knowing it was one of those nights. Removing his clothes, he sees the fresh marks on his chest. Wanting to prepare himself before finding some stranger in the other room, he asks his assistant if he’d brought someone home with him.
“No, sir. It was just you. She, uh, she asked to come but you told her you were too tired so she stayed behind.”
“Oh, good,” Jungkook exhales in relief, not wanting to deal with any of that this morning, which is one reason why he always asks them to leave. “How long do I have until I have to get ready for tonight?”
“About five hours,” the younger man replies. “You have a scheduled dinner with your friends at 5:30 and then the event at 8. I’ll be there before that to help you get ready.”
“Alright, thanks. I’ll just workout to deal with this hangover.”
“Medicines are in the cupboard, sir. Please just let me know if there’s anything more you need.”
“I will.”
Jungkook hangs up and presses on his temples as if that’ll do anything. He retrieves the medicine as advised and thinks of something else he needs - a cup of lemon ginger tea. Ever since you’d prepared one for him that one morning, he’s been having it after every night out. He calls the butler to have it prepared for him, given that he doesn’t have the energy to do so himself.
It arrives, and coupled with the aspirin, he’s starting to somehow feel better. He knows that heading to the gym will do the trick, as it always does, but it still makes him think that he shouldn’t have drank as much as he did last night.
For someone who’s not particularly fond of people, even Jungkook sometimes wonders why he goes out and parties as much as he does.
He wasn’t always like this though. His weekends used to be spent on food trips and travels, but after the breakup with Chaerin, those days became free, and he’d stay out late so he could sleep the rest of the next day. The women were to make up for the loneliness; the alcohol was to forget why he needed them in the first place. He hates loud and unnecessary sounds, but the music and the chatter started to become white noise for him; they’d become a companion to help deal with the noise in his own head, or the lack of it.
Years later, the remaining thoughts in his mind were just all about work, and he’d revert to the same habit for relief - the women became his thrill; the alcohol was so he wouldn’t remember them.
And it works. The ecstasy lasts only through the night. It’s fleeting as his desire for them is. He doesn’t recall names, just that they made him feel good and that they felt the same; they often try to hook up with him again after all, seeking him in the clubs they know he frequents. But he rarely entertains them; a second time leads to a third, and he can’t be assured that they won’t ask the same tiring questions he hates hearing - why doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Why doesn’t he want to commit to anyone? Does he see himself settling down and having a family? What’ll make him want that?
It’s happened a few times, during the rare instances that there’s a lull in between and they take advantage of his brief period of vulnerability to make him open up. He never does, and it’s not because he thinks it’s a weakness to do so, but he just never really let the moment linger to find out.
After a light meal, Jungkook heads to the gym and spends three hours expending his energy so he could get it back.
This is his other means of dealing with his stress. Working out makes him focus on something else and it helps in releasing all his anger and frustration. As he stares at his bare body in the mirror right after - the marks from last night still visible - he scoffs at himself.
He’s so stereotypical, it makes him sick. He’s allowed himself to let his life revolve around the shallow and fleeting sensations of pleasure to counter the permanence and inevitability of his job. This is his world and he made it this way. And while he drowns in the nothingness inside the walls that he created, he still thinks it’s better than being outside; somehow he thinks it’s lonelier and more burdensome out there. At least in here, he’s all he has to deal with; he’s all he can disappoint.
But there are still moments when he wonders what it could be like if he just dared to live differently. Like when he watches Seokjin animatedly explain the history and creation process of Korean traditional alcohol during the product launch that evening and how his passion is moving and infectious. Or when he observes how Taehyung freely moves around the club and makes connections with others as deep as his smile.
Jungkook thinks about all this as he glances at the woman next to him later that night, bare under the covers like he is, her body curled into a cocoon as she takes a break.
She’d caught his eye earlier because she wasn’t trying to get his attention like the others were. She spoke less and screamed more, let him do what he wanted but touched him softly as she pleased.
“You’re a good lover. Why do you waste yourself with something temporary like me?” She’d asked.
It left him speechless and he shrugged - a change from his usual dismissal - but there’s really nothing to say.
Why does he? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to.
But it’s at this moment that he tries to imagine what it would be like if it were the same face he saw next to him every morning, if it were the same hand he held everyday, if it were the same warm body he curled into every night. His mind wanders too far, into the depths of a place it can’t go to, beyond boundaries he can’t cross, and the sight is both terrifying and calming.
It’s safer where he is.
So when she wakes up from a short nap, she looks up at him, her soft eyes wishing for something she knows she shouldn’t.
“You should go,” he says, the softest he’s ever uttered the words.
“Okay,” she whispers in submission.
She gets up from the bed, finds her stray clothes on the floor, and puts them on. Jungkook follows her to the door, a first for him. Maybe it’s her gentleness, or the unspoken understanding between them, or maybe because she doesn’t ask for more even if she seems to want to.
But though he contemplates pulling her back to try to feel what that’s like - seeing her in the morning, holding her hand, curling into her embrace - he doesn’t. He knows even that desire would end; it’s fleeting just as everything around him is.
He holds open the door. She turns around with a smile.
“I hope someday you find someone you’ll ask to stay,” she says, surprising him again. “I’m sure they would.”
You walk around the store in awe of the luscious plants displayed on the shelves, your eyes as bright as the lights that shine over them. There are so many to choose from, and though you have an idea of what you want to have, it’s tough deciding which ones to get right now. The money tree is a must, so is the Chinese evergreen. But do you go for the orchid or the peace lily? Can you keep up with a spider plant? How many of the asparagus ferns should you get?
Your eyes flit from one plant to the next, eventually deciding on getting everything on your list then placing them on the cart for payment.
Jimin chuckles next to you. “Since when were you a plant mom?”
“Since she got that aloe vera from Yoongi and she was convinced that she has a green thumb after it didn’t die,” Soomin deadpans next to you as you frown at her sarcasm. “That’s also after my weekly reminders to water the plant because ‘no care’ doesn’t actually mean it’s going to survive on its own.”
“Oh, shush,” you scoff at her. “You told me I was doing a good job.”
“You’d send a photo every few days, hun,” she laughs. “What else was I supposed to say?”
“True. I needed the encouragement,” you shrug, paying for your haul. “But also, I’m a plant newbie. Yoongi said that I probably need some of them at home and in the office for positive energy and he’s not wrong. All the frustration from months ago just accumulated in my apartment and I need a change.”
“So… Is Yoongi a plant dad, too?” Soomin wonders.
“No. He just knows about a lot of things,” you reply. “Plus, he’s an architect and a designer. He knows a thing or two about plant decor.”
“Why isn’t he here with you, then?” She arches an eyebrow.
“Because I’m with both of you, duh,” you roll your eyes. “And before you say anything more, I don’t really like mixing my work friends with my personal friends. It’s different.”
“Well, I’m glad we could join you on this new phase of your life,” Jimin tries to be encouraging. “It’s like turning over a new leaf.”
You scold him over his terrible pun but laugh anyway, enjoying the comfort and playfulness that only your best friends could bring. They picked you up from work last Friday then you all headed to a club after dinner. You spent yesterday at a beach at their insistence then stayed in during the evening. It’s now Sunday and you’re dragging them around as you run errands before saying goodbye to them again, and it’s not a normal day without Soomin mentioning Yoongi. Perhaps it’s because of all the guys you’ve mentioned that have taken interest in you, he’s the only true green flag; he’s also the only one you didn’t entertain at all. You suppose that’s something she’ll not really get over.
The three of you head to a nearby cafe. Jimin excitedly talks about the latest menu item in their chain of restaurants while Soomin groans about the stuff she has to deal with as she manages her family-owned shipping company that’s the biggest in the port city of Busan. They turn to you and ask how the rest of your week is going to go, with slightly surprised looks when you don’t talk about work with as much disdain as you used to. There’s excitement, even, something that Soomin points out, and when you mention that Jungkook is on an overseas trip, she assumes that’s the reason why.
“Not really,” you clarify. “He arrives tomorrow evening, but the week’s packed - we’re visiting the Arts Center for inspection and then I’m doing an ocular with Chin-sun for the VP events we’re holding in the next few months. I mean, I won’t be buried in files nor will I be in meetings all week. So yeah, it’s not bad.”
“That’s good,” Jimin beams. “At least it’s nothing like how it used to be. Right?”
“It’s a lot better, I told you guys,” you say, reminding them of a similar talk you had the last time they were here, which was a week after you’d gotten sick. “Jungkook is… rational, less grumpy and impulsive; he also listens to me and trusts me. He’s even smiled a few times.”
“Wow, he really set the bar low for you, huh,” Jimin chuckles, earning him a nod.
“Does that also mean that he’s now completely bearable and no longer your type because he’s not an asshole anymore?” Soomin chimes in, being the blunt and bold one among the three of you.
“He never was my type in the first place,” you scowl. “Plus, he’s literally my boss, Soo. That’s like, not some flag, it’s a whole ass brick wall that shall not be crossed.”
“Right. That’s why Mr. Min didn’t make the cut,” she points out. “Told you you should’ve just quit your job so you could date him.”
“And I also told you that wasn’t the only reason why I didn’t want to,” you remind her. “Yoongi’s exactly the type of person I need in my life, and being more than friends is the surefire way of making sure that doesn’t happen. Like, why would I risk a good friendship for something that may not work out? Whether I break his heart or he breaks mine, it’s pain I can’t handle. There’s just no going back from there.”
“Right, that is your biggest fear,” Soomin replies softly, the sympathetic tone in her voice telling you that she does understand where you’re coming from. “I mean, it’s still possible that you wouldn’t hurt each other but I get it. It just sucks, I guess. The good ones often start as your friends.”
“I know. And I’d rather have them and be single than none at all,” you sigh.
The thought is simpler than it seems. You won’t deny that you’ve thought of how things would’ve been if you gave Yoongi a chance, but the fear of what you’d lose always trumped that type of possibility.
There’s a kind of pain you don’t want to experience, one of a broken heart caused by losing someone you’ve given your all to. It’s how you think you love, after all; you can’t give any less. But it’s also why you’ve never done it. No one’s inspired that kind of devotion for you.
Soomin has pointed out before that it’s probably also because you don’t open yourself up to the possibilities as you should. Maybe you’ve just been too focused on other things. But maybe you also just haven’t felt the kind of all-consuming desire for someone who would be worth it, one you’d want so much that you’d willingly face the fear of paralyzing heartbreak just to be with them.
You suppose that’s the difference. That’s the irony, too. You’re scared to love because you’re scared of the pain, so you keep your distance to keep yourself safe but it’s also why you haven’t found someone you’re willing to crawl out of your walls for.
There’s not much you feel passionate about in life. Maybe it’s love. But you’re too cautious to feel it, to look for it, so you don’t really know. Maybe it’s something else completely, and working in the environment that you do hinders you from discovering it. You’ve kept your distance from a lot of things over the past years and the thought that one day, you’ll be able to feel free from all the burden you carry because of a past you couldn’t control, makes you look forward to the day when you get to walk away from all those and hopefully, find whatever it is you’re looking for.
Jimin nudges you after you zone out, and you switch the subject and ask about the latest gossip in their hometown. You enjoy living vicariously through their social life back in Busan. They not only come out here to Seoul to see you but also to take a break from all the drama that they can’t really escape from, given the type of people in their circle of friends. You always thank the heavens you got lucky that at 10 years old and making a new life in a new city, you found Soomin and Jimin, perhaps the only other people aside from your mother who make you feel safe and protected, a feeling you don’t take for granted.
They indulge you and share some stories, but when Soomin goes through her social media feed to show you something, she gasps instead when she realizes that the men in her friend’s Instagram post include Jungkook.
“Did your boss just go there to party?” She asks, showing you the photo.
“Partly,” you reply. “His best friend hosted the launch of his alcohol line there but there are a couple more parties because it’s his birthday weekend. Your friends went?”
“Yeah, some of them are Kim Seokjin’s friends, apparently,” Soomin says. “Small world. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Seoul and Busan socialites attract each other.”
“Why aren’t you there, then?” You chuckle.
“We’re choosy socialites,” Jimin clarifies. “Or like, pretentious. We just act like we are but we really aren’t, just to say that the Park and Cheon kids are interesting and sociable like the rest of them.”
“Who says they’re interesting and sociable?” Soomin states incredulously. “My eyes roll to the back of my head every time I’m in those shitty events. The lack of self-awareness of rich people repulses me. And I obviously don’t count us in.”
“And you shouldn’t,” you confirm. “I attract good people, I guess. I’m glad you’re not like them.”
“Well, what about Jungkook’s friends?” Jimin asks. “How are they like?”
“What I can say about the Kim brothers is that they’re nice people,” you say. “Very charming, ridiculously good-looking... And they sound like good friends, too. I can’t say much else. Their dating game is pretty strong though.”
“I’d assume. I mean, when you look like that, how could you not be?” Soomin states. “I mean, even Jungkook’s on point. That’s some hot girl he’s got.”
She shows you a couple of Instagram stories from her friends posting about the launch party. It turns out, there were a lot of Korea-based personalities who were invited. You spot Jungkook immediately, wearing the all-white ensemble that you packed for him the other day. His hair is a bit curled and the knitted top underneath the simple coat highlights his taut physique. There’s also that gorgeous woman around his arms, and if what you know about him is enough, you’d guess she’s probably one of those he seeks for a good time.
The sight of him loosening up a bit and enjoying himself is something you appreciate. He’s always stressed when he’s here and you’re glad he could spend a few days partying elsewhere without having to think about work, especially during the week of his birthday. You don’t know how much of this aspect of his life he enjoys, but he does seem a bit free yet still somehow detached. You suppose that’s something he’ll always be - a man trying to live his life while separating himself from the meaning of it. You’re unsure of how he does it but perhaps it’s not that different from how you are, too.
After lunch, Soomin and Jimin do a few more of your errands with you before dropping you home and then heading back to theirs. You spend the rest of the evening arranging your plants in your tiny apartment and feeling like more life is breathed into it with every one of them finding their home in a corner or on a shelf. Oddly enough, you feel a bit less lonely. That’s how you think you’ve been doing things, after all - finding substitutes for the kind of company you’re yearning for, for the kind of relationship you’re so afraid to have.
Jungkook wakes up that Monday morning feeling a lot better than he did the days before. For one, there’s no ringing in his head nor the feeling of dehydration. Bare under his soft covers, there also aren’t any fresh marks on his chest that signify the kind of night he usually has. In fact, he remembers most of it - he stayed by the bar and briefly chatted with the women who’d approached him.
Suzy was there last night, too, the only one he’s hooked up with more than once, and probably the only one he’s had proper conversations with, given that she’s a landscape designer. She’s been away on business trips and had just gone back, her bluntness about going back to his apartment that she’s too familiar with being met with a rejection that she didn't take personally.
“Has Seoul changed you?” She asked, her eyebrow arched in anticipation of his reply.
“Do you think a place would do that to me?” He laughed.
“No, but a person would,” she shrugged.
“None of that,” he shook his head. “There’s no one. I’m too busy, too tired.”
“But not too lonely?” she asked. “It’s the only reason why you would call me.”
There was no bitterness in her words but still, he asked. “And why did you always come, then?”
“To see if each time would be good enough for you to not make me leave.”
The conversation took a turn that he didn’t expect, the usual honesty in her words being too honest for him. He fumbled for something to say but she shook him off, claiming that she knew what she was getting into every time he took her home and that constantly hoping for something doesn’t guarantee that she’d get it one day.
He drank a couple of glasses of whiskey after she left but managed to call his butler for a sandwich and lemon ginger tea in time for his arrival at his penthouse. The meal did the trick, as he’d slept soundly after a warm bath without a splitting headache and regrets the next day.
It’s Monday, after all, and it’s back to work as usual. He has a few meetings to attend before flying back to Seoul, one of which is with the team. He gathers the energy to get off the bed for a half-hour exercise before getting ready. He eats the breakfast that the butler orders for him then heads to the office where he briefly meets with Lucas.
Settled on his desk, he proceeds to virtually meet with the team, who all promptly greet him from the conference room. He asks how their weekend was, with most of them looking surprised because he rarely asks them about it, but they answer anyway. That’s when he notices that you’re not around, prompting him to look for you.
“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you answer off camera before appearing on screen with a candle-lit cake in your hands.
He’s surprised when the team sings him a happy birthday, your eyes fixed on him as you mouth the words with a soft smile on your face. Do-hyun giggles at his silence, saying that he probably forgot it was his birthday or he maybe didn’t expect that they’d prepare something for him.
“We like you now, Mr. Jeon,” she teases, earning him a nudge from Chin-sun but she doesn’t seem to mind and neither does he.
It’s what makes him laugh, hoping that the pink on his cheeks aren’t visible on screen. He hadn’t expected this. He also knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he’d bet that you had everything to do with this.
“You’ve probably been too busy to celebrate but we haven’t forgotten. More like, Ms. Cho made sure we remembered,” Manager Lee chuckles. “We hope you enjoy this little something we prepared.”
“It’s an ice cream cake so it’ll just be in your refrigerator and you can have some when you return,” you say.
“Thank you,” he finally manages to say. “You didn’t have to but I appreciate it. I’m looking forward to having some when I get back. Ms. Cho should also buy another one big enough for the team to share.”
You nod in acknowledgment of his instruction before starting with the meeting. There’s a lot to talk about, given the Arts Center construction and activities, as well as the upcoming year-end events that they have to organize and coordinate. It goes on for over two hours and it ends with your gentle smile after he says goodbye.
The rest of the day feels too long for Jungkook, especially during the late afternoon flight and eventual ride home. He stares at the photo you sent of the cake, making sure he sees the greeting on it.
“Get home safely, Mr. Jeon,” you text him after he says thanks. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With the reminders of the impermanence of things and people this weekend, Jungkook finds comfort in the stability that you provide. It’s in your smile, in your reminders and organization of his life, in your thoughtfulness and patience. It’s in the assurance that tomorrow is another day, one in which he gets to see you once again.
The cake is simple but sophisticated. The mint chocolate flavor is exactly how he likes it and in ice cream cake form, it’s really delicious. He’s glad he gets to have this all for himself, as the team was able to enjoy one yesterday as per his instruction, and you’d sent a group photo of everyone enjoying it to him, the small smile that formed on his face no longer surprising him.
For one, the comfort is there. He’s seen just how much better the team is working together because of it - they’re more open to giving him feedback and receiving his, any moment of frustration is easily mended with laughter, and his encouragement and affirmation have been motivating them as well. In the midst of it is you who makes sure that communication flows smoothly and that everything is on track, acting as the glue that keeps everyone together.
He sees firsthand just how good you are at handling things, and how despite all the stress, you manage to get him seaweed soup and a cake for his birthday. It’s more than just the details regarding work that you’re on top of; it’s also details about his life, and how he’s responding to it tells him that maybe, whatever change there is like what Suzy observed, a big part of it is because of you.
“I’m glad you like it, Mr. Jeon,” your voice cuts through his thoughts.
He looks up and sees you with a portfolio in hand, motioning towards the cake that’s now one fourth eaten.
“Ah, yeah,” he says, not denying it. “I feel like I haven’t had sweets in a while. Where did you buy this?”
“Oh, uh, I asked the baker who made desserts for the Arts Center event if she could make a customized ice cream cake,” you explain. “Fortunately she could. And thankfully it’s delicious. She enjoyed working with us so she gave us a discount.”
“You… had this made for me?”
He’d expected it to be store-bought, but learning you made the effort to reach out to someone reminds him once more of your thoughtfulness, of your care.
“Yes, I, uh, I just assumed you’d receive a few and I thought to give you something a little different.”
“It’s the only one I got actually,” he says, catching you off guard. Your face falls a little so he follows it up. “Like I told you, I don’t celebrate my birthday so I don’t let people know about it. And the ones who do also know that I don’t make a big deal out of it so they don’t really give me anything.”
“Oh,” you say, feeling a little sad.
You’re not one to have big celebrations but you do have a bit of it. For your 30th birthday at the start of the year, Jimin and Soomin threw you a little party in your humble home in Daegu where they performed some of your favorite songs and enacted your favorite drama scenes to make you happy. There was no need for anything fancy - just your loved ones and your mom’s and Min-woo’s amazing cooking.
But even before that milestone, your friends always made sure to at least get you seaweed soup and a birthday cake; they want you to remember that there are lives impacted because you were born. You can’t really say that Jungkook’s impacted your life the same way but you still value his existence; a small cake is just a little something to celebrate that. But the idea that his family and friends pass up on the cake - and perhaps the gifts, too - makes you think that there’s really not much in Jungkook’s life he feels he could share with others, that there’s not much he could give and receive in return.
“I hope I didn’t cross a line if it’s something you don’t like people knowing,” you continue. “I just thought… it would be nice to receive something from us.”
“It actually was,” he admits, his voice soft and low. Turning away, he says, “it’s been a while since I actually thought about my birthday as anything other than ordinary. It’s nice to be reminded sometimes. So thank you, Ms. Cho. For the soup, too. I appreciate it.”
Perhaps it’s his honesty that does it, but you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. If learning how to express gratitude is something you could teach him, you already feel accomplished.
It’s the next day when you find yourself back in Jungkook’s office, staring at the potted plant in your hands. You’ve gone from debating on whether to leave it on his desk or the coffee table, to even giving it at all. You won’t lie and say you didn’t know what you were thinking when you passed by the plant store after work last night to get this specifically for him. You did - you wanted him to feel that joy of receiving a gift, which you suppose doesn’t happen, especially for someone who can literally buy anything he wants.
But still, it doesn’t mean that your good intention will be received well. You’ve given Hoseok a small gift every year for his birthday, partly because he likes receiving them and also because it’s your way of saying thanks.
You want to give this to Jungkook as a form of gratitude, too. Despite how you both started, the amount of things you’ve learned from him and continue to have somehow made up for it, and you also know that he’s learning from you as well. He’s given you agency to make decisions. He’s also given you events and small projects to manage, making you realize it’s what you really enjoy doing. Seeing things come together the way you envisioned it is so satisfying. Perhaps without intending it, Jungkook’s showed you a way out, a path that you want to explore so much that you’re willing to let go of all that you know in this company for something new, for something that feels more like you.
Your thoughts have completely digressed and with the time you took debating and reflecting, you hadn’t heard his footsteps, and so you jerk a little when he calls out your name.
Turning around, you bow in greeting, remembering at the same time that you have something that you’re not 100% sure yet you want to give right now. But as always, he calls you out on it.
“Is that a snake plant?” He asks, walking towards his seat.
“Yes.”
“Is that the one on your desk?”
“Uh, no, actually,” you laugh dryly, knowing you can’t turn back from it now. “I… I meant to give it to you, sir. I just thought that, uh, the money tree on the shelf might be too lonely so I got you a desk plant. I heard it’s good for positive energy and to filter the air.”
“It is,” he hums. “Is that why you got yourself one?”
“I suppose. I figured it could help improve my mood. Yoongi suggested it before but I just kept pushing it back. I finally got some for my apartment last weekend,” you explain, just so he knows it didn’t come out of nowhere.
“And you think this will improve my mood?” He arches an eyebrow.
“Maybe,” you shrug. “We’ll probably need a dozen of them here but we could start with one.”
He matches your soft laughter with his own, which you’re thankful for. He reaches out for the plant, nonchalant like you when your fingers brush against each other.
“Hopefully this will work,” he says as he places the small, white pot next to his desktop.
You leave him so he could prepare for a conference call while you’re set to meet with the marketing team. Jungkook gazes at the plant and notices the little note attached to the string around the stem.
Happy birthday, it reads.
This wasn’t just something to match the money tree that Hoseok left for him that he hasn’t been caring for much. This was a gift for him. You probably assume that if he doesn’t receive birthday cakes, he wouldn’t be receiving gifts, either. And you’d be right. His best friends just throw him parties. And once he left Seoul to obtain his MBA in Singapore and stayed to work in their Southeast Asian headquarters, the distance between him and his parents grew. They’d reach out but he didn’t bother much, so he’d stopped expecting anything. After he broke up with Chaerin, he stopped receiving anything at all. This is the first time he’s gotten something from someone after a long time.
It’s simple in its meaning and honest in its intention, and he doesn’t hold back the smile that forms on his face.
You watch the realization dawn on Jungkook from outside. You’d remembered the silly note you left right as you sat down and didn’t have time to take it back, which really wasn’t much, but you suppose it’s enough to tell him that the plant indeed is a gift. You don’t know if someone like him even receives them, or would even appreciate something so cheap and humble, but the gentle smile he has on tells you that he probably doesn’t get much, but that this is something he welcomes.
Your smile follows soon after but it feels different this time. There’s pride somehow that your little gift could elicit something so rare out of him. There’s also a bit of awe; this is the softest he’s ever looked, with that tinge of gratitude and yearning, a complete contrast to what you know of him, to how you’ve always seen him. It’s… it’s actually beautiful.
And this is when things start to get confusing, especially as your phone beeps with that SMS from him.
[From: The Boss] Thank you, ___.
It’s the non-work message. It’s the use of your name. This is personal for him and you acknowledge that it’s the same for you. Perhaps there’s a reason why you made the effort to get the gift last night, why it mattered to you that he received something to celebrate his birthday, and why seeing him appreciate it the way he does is making you giddy and satisfied at the same time.
Maybe it’s the care you’re starting to feel for him that’s beyond just wanting to make your job bearable. You’ll dissect what that truly means later on, but right now it’s just you, him, and the glass wall in between the both of you. There’s distance, there’s a boundary, but there’s a transparent barrier that allows you to see what’s on the other side, one which allows you to know who he is behind the man you’ve come to know. And you admit, he’s not so bad after all.
The construction of the Arts Center is going better than expected. Given some of the delays due to the wrong materials delivered and some permits that took a while to get, the workers were able to make up some ground, largely due to Jungkook’s supervision. When you both visited a few weeks ago, there were many things to work on, and he managed to identify the priorities and find ways to get the project back on track.
It was during those few days of constantly being on site that you saw how efficient and effective he really works. You admired his precision and attention to detail, how he instructed the team leads and project managers and laborers, how he put together the design of one of the rooms just as he’d envisioned it.
He was commanding and decisive, and you appreciated his thorough and simple explanations that allowed you to keep up with him. He’s said that he wants you to understand what’s happening so that you’re well-informed should you need to communicate to others on his behalf, and what initially intimidated you turned into something you became interested in. Since then, you’ve been watching design shows to help you further. The challenge was welcomed, and now you feel like everyday, you’re learning something new on the job.
His instructions from that time were followed, and you’re back today to inspect the rest of the spaces. Everything is so massive, and with one half of the wall of the performance hall already done, you can clearly see the upgrade. The details are impressive, and the way that the traditional designs merge with modern elements is a feature itself.
You’re immersed in the intricacies of the ceiling, walking towards the wall to get a closer look that you don’t immediately notice the workers walking past you with a massive slab of marble. The moment that you do, you step back too quickly, tripping on your heels, and just as you brace yourself to hit the ground, you instead feel your back against a firm chest, with hands on your elbows breaking your fall.
You sigh in relief, even leaning your head back because nothing could be more embarrassing than falling on your ass in front of many people, including your boss. That is, until the familiar scent of jasmine and bergamot wafts through your nose and you realize that what you just did is debatably more embarrassing than what could’ve happened.
The familiar clearing of the throat is what finally does it for you, and with wide eyes, you turn around and face him to apologize.
“I’m sorry, sir. I—”
“Was so much in awe that you didn’t notice the workers passing by,” he finishes, his slightly teasing smile calming you down.
“Ah, well of course. The details are too pretty,” you reason, stepping back only a little. You look at him shyly. “But thank you. I was about to fall.”
“I know. And I was about to lose it if my assistant got injured on the job.”
“True. It’s bad publicity, I guess,” you shrug. “And distractions could cause delays. And that’s bad, too.”
“Or you know, I simply just can’t have you injured, simple as that,” he says with a little frown on his face.
“Imagine if I didn’t see them? They could’ve dropped the marble and I would’ve completely lost it!”
“Why?” He arches an eyebrow.
“That slab is like, two months’ worth of salary, Mr. Jeon.”
“It’s actually more but that’s not the point,” he fully frowns now. “If you didn’t see them, then they could’ve hit you, and then you would be whining in pain right now. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, ___.”
His voice is firm and low, and you nod in acknowledgment because you also know he’s right. The workers’ vision was limited but yours wasn’t; you were just too distracted and if you hadn’t pulled early enough, that marble really could’ve done damage to you. And if it wasn’t for Jungkook catching your fall, then something bad still would’ve happened to you.
“But are you okay? You didn’t twist your ankle or anything?” He asks.
“No. Uh, the heel’s just a bit loose but I’m fine,” you reply, still trying to wrap your head around how he’d said your name - informally, in this setting, as he told you that you could’ve gotten hurt. Maybe you weren’t imagining the worried tone of his voice earlier.
“Okay,” he sighs. “You have to be careful next time.”
“I will, sir,” you reply.
You step aside and Jungkook sees you from his peripheral vision as he returns to assessing, staying put and only glancing at the ceiling unlike earlier. He’d seen you marvel at the design of the hall earlier, and while he was initially doing the same, seeing you wide-eyed and impressed caught his attention more.
Many times, he’s seen you look dejected, frustrated, angry. He’s seen your moments of focus and joy, too, but this is the first time he’s seen you be in awe. There was this softness on your face that was still filled with emotion, and he’d been drawn to you enough to see that you were about to fall. He’s glad he has quick reflexes and was able to get to you in time, the worry he felt at the thought of you getting hurt in any way was quite overwhelming for him. And while it’s partly because you’re his responsibility in this case, he also knows it’s more than that.
He gestures moving to another room and you follow him outside, and just as you try to stay close to him, Jungkook also makes sure you’re away from any kind of danger. He moves to your side when there are workers nearby with their heavy equipment and large materials. He shields you from the drilling. He glances at you as you both walk towards the other performance hall. And when you get there, you see the ceiling installation is ongoing, and Jungkook immediately calls for hard hats for the both of you.
He hands you one and you put it on, fumbling with the strap underneath your chin. You groan in frustration when you’re unable to lock it, and that’s when you see him move towards you.
“Let me,” he says.
You stop your movements and shyly nod in agreement, and he waits for you to let go before he fixes it himself.
It’s a little odd being on the other side, since it’s always you who fixes his tie or his coat. But you’re the one watching him now, with his furrowed brows and seriousness in securing this safety gear on you making you feel warm inside.
He steps back then looks at you, trying hard to control his laughter.
“Are you laughing at me, sir?” You pout.
“No. I don’t make fun of people,” he says, turning serious now, but you don’t miss the grin on his face.
It’s unfair that he looks good even with a hard hat on.
One of the project managers calls him and he goes around, with you staying close by. This performance hall is bigger and boasts of a more traditional design, which would hold the cultural performances that the Culture Minister is very excited about. You watch Jungkook inspect the space with thoroughness, checking each wall panel and each seat.
It’s amazing to you just how involved he is with this project even with the project managers handling things relatively well. He wants to be on top of everything, he’s said; it matters too much for him to not know what’s going on.
You see Yoongi enter the room and approach him. Once he sees you, he laughs as well.
“Do I look that bad?” You groan. “Mr. Jeon was laughing at me, too.”
“It’s a little big, and I guess I’m just not used to seeing you in one,” Yoongi shrugs.
“Why don’t you have one?”
“I don’t need it. I’m here all the time and nothing happens.”
“Well, I’ve been here a few times and I almost fell earlier,” you say, recalling the almost-embarrassment.
“I know, I saw it,” he chuckles.
“You were there?!” You gasp.
“No, I was totally in the other room that’s why I witnessed you almost get hit by the marble then trip on yourself,” he deadpans.
“I didn’t see you, that’s all,” you shrug.
“I was by the doors. I checked these spaces yesterday and I just wanted to be around in case Jungkook had new instructions,” he explains. “But I gotta say, you guys were kinda cute earlier.”
“Almost falling on my ass isn’t cute, Min Yoongi,” you scowl. “I could’ve either ruined the marble slab or hurt my bum. Either way, it would’ve been embarrassing.”
“I didn’t mean just you. I meant you guys,” he gestures towards Jungkook. “He caught you, didn’t he?”
“Yes… That was embarrassing, too,” you frown. “What’s cute about that?”
“He looked worried. It’s just not something I’ve seen him be towards other people, that’s all.”
“It’s because an injured employee on site isn’t good, okay? Plus, if I’m incapable, then no one’s gonna be around to make his life easier,” you reason.
Yoongi stares at you for a while before shaking his head. “Wow, you really are dense.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you cross your arms in frustration.
“Forget about it,” Yoongi shakes his head, deciding not to push it.
He’ll tell you another time that he’s glad you’re becoming more of yourself again, that the light has somehow come back, that there’s now comfort you exude around the man you’d once despised. Yoongi feels assured now that there’s someone else who seems to be looking out for you, and that it’s something you don’t seem to mind at all.
“Yah! You’re being all mysterious again!” You pout, something he chuckles about.
“Me? Mysterious? Come on. I’ve always been an open book,” he teases.
You’re just about to nag him again when you hear Jungkook clear his throat, and you turn towards him and ask if he’s already done inspecting.
“There are still a few things I want to run by my design lead before leaving,” Jungkook says. “Please move my meeting to 3PM.”
“That’s noted, sir. I’ll give Mr. Hong’s assistant a call.”
You excuse yourself and step outside, leaving both men alone.
“Angering my assistant, are you?” Jungkook asks Yoongi, the curious yet playful tone in his voice evident.
“Nah, just teasing. That a problem?” Yoongi answers back.
“No. It’s good she has someone she’s comfortable with at work.”
“Could be you, you know? That isn’t so bad,” Yoongi remarks, surprising him. “And it doesn’t cross whatever boundary you’re trying so hard to stay behind.”
“We’re not… on that level. I mean, I don’t know how to be someone other people are comfortable being around,” Jungkook admits.
“I don’t know about that. Seems like you’re already that for her,” Yoongi says. “I was just teasing her about how you guys looked cute earlier, when you broke her fall.”
“You were there?”
“Both of you really don’t notice other people when it’s just both of you, huh,” Yoongi laughs. “But yeah, I was. I saw her relief. And I saw you worry.”
Jungkook merely shrugs, not wanting to confirm. Even if he denies it, Yoongi will still believe what he wants to believe. But the older man knows you well just as much as he knows him.
“You care about her, don’t you?” Yoongi responds to the silence. “And I mean not in a superficial way, or a good boss caring for his employee type of way. Like, you worry when she’s sick or overworking, when she’s hurt or in danger. You want her to always be safe, to get rest. You like having her near. You wanna know that she’s happy.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Jungkook finally answers. “I can’t think of her that way.”
“I know. That’s why you were the way you were,” Yoongi says. “How else do you respond to things you can’t control than through anger and detachment? But just because you shouldn’t, it doesn’t change the fact that you do.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong,” Jungkook counters.
“Well, irrationally calling her out and being angry were wrong, too, and you did those because you weren’t being honest with yourself,” Yoongi argues. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, the least you can do is be true to yourself about how you feel. Because the more you deny, then the more you resist, and when you do that, you end up hurting her. Is that what you want?”
“Of course not.”
“Then just… accept things - what you feel, what you both are, what you can or can’t be.”
Jungkook looks at his friend as if some epiphany had just transpired. It’s been difficult for him to make sense of what he feels around you. There’s always that air of familiarity, but the warmth and comfort are new. There’s the reality that you come from different worlds, but that you both somehow feel and experience and maybe desire the same things. There’s that sense of fear over change and of what he can’t control, yet you somehow provide the calm and stability that he hasn’t felt in a long time.
It’s all these contradictions that have been messing with him, and Yoongi’s right - because of all the times that Jungkook had wanted to create that distance, all it did was hurt you. That’s the last thing he wants, he realizes now. He’s seen you struggle, and even if that’s just a fraction of what you normally go through, it’s enough to tell him that he doesn’t want you to experience that again, especially not because of him. It’s too early to say the extent of his care towards you, and it’s not something he’s willing or ready to explore right now. But just as Jungkook’s about to comfort himself that it’s fine, and that he shouldn’t dwell on it anyway so as not to further nurture it, Yoongi speaks again.
“Just… just a heads up, though,” he adds. “The care that I felt, that’s how it started for me.”
“What started?”
“Me, liking her.”
It’s at that moment when you come back from your call, and you inform Jungkook that the meeting’s been moved and that he has a scheduled one with some of the directors on Monday.
“Alright,” he says, directing you and Yoongi towards the souvenir shop, temporarily disregarding what he was warned about.
“You two looked so serious. Everything okay?” You whisper to your friend.
“Yeah,” Yoongi hums, giving you the most genuine smile he could give.
There’s that sparkle and softness in your eyes that had captured him all those years ago. They dimmed throughout the years and they’ve just been sporadic, illuminating only during specific moments. He’d seen them again a lot more regularly, and even today, as you looked around the halls and admired the designs of the space.
Yoongi doesn’t know if a certain person is the reason for that. He knows you enough that you wouldn’t even notice it, so you definitely wouldn’t know what caused the change. But as your friend, he hopes one day you will, so that if you’re brave enough, too, you’d try to make sure that the light stays.
The inspection ends and you get back to the office at 4. You return to piles of documents you have to sift through and encode, and your original plan of leaving on time changes.
Jungkook spends over an hour talking with Yoongi and the construction lead about the Arts Center, and once that’s over, you see just how exhausted he is. He’s massaging his temples and sighing deeply, and you know that whatever just transpired, he’s going to be thinking about it all throughout the weekend, which he doesn’t really have time for. The gala that one of the Board members throws annually is tomorrow night, an event you’ll be attending with him as well.
You enter his room to remind him about it and to give some forms for his signature. He signs them off, and when you say you’ve got a few more requests that you’ll leave on his desk for Monday, he tells you to just wait until then.
“Go home, Ms. Cho,” he says. “It’s been a long week. And it won’t end until after tomorrow night.”
“What about you, Mr. Jeon?”
“I’ve got some stuff to sort through after inspection. I’ll probably leave in an hour or so.”
You frown, a mannerism of yours that he’s gotten used to seeing. It’s mixed with a pout that often makes him internally laugh because it seems unlike you. It also always means there’s something you want to say that you’re holding back.
“Should I not?” He arches an eyebrow.
“Hmm. Just thinking that it might be better for you to take a rest tonight, too,” you advise. “The gala could be quite draining and it would be good to save your energy for that.”
“I’ll think about it,” he hums.
“Then I’ll think about going home, too,” you answer back.
Jungkook chuckles, knowing you’re always going to counter him in some way. And he’s glad that you do.
“You may go. And get a good rest, too.”
You nod and bid him goodbye, exiting the room to start packing your things. It’s five minutes later when the door opens and you see him with his bag, ready to head home as well.
You smile at his tender doe-eyes as he admits through them that you were right - he doesn’t have a reason to stay behind, so he’ll call it a night and get as much rest as he can.
He pauses by the entryway, and you pick up that he’s waiting for you, perhaps to make sure that you’re indeed going home. You quicken your pace and walk next to him, steps in pace as you both go to the elevator and down to the lobby.
“Mr. Ri can bring you home after me,” Jungkook says. “It’s late already.”
“Not late enough,” you reply. “I’m okay, Mr. Jeon. It’s not necessary.”
He concedes, and you wait for the car to arrive and say goodbye to him again.
There’s a softness on his face as he lingers before he enters. A small smile forms, and it’s what you see until you fall asleep that night. It’s the same one that’s oddly been giving you comfort lately - it’s a little restrained but somehow it still looks vulnerable. Perhaps it represents how Jungkook’s been to you - there are some contradictions, but beyond all that, there’s care.
Mr. Ri happily greets you as you enter the car that late Saturday afternoon to head to Jungkook’s penthouse. He compliments your dress, saying it’s nice to see you in something formal that fits your style - it’s simple yet elegant, and you tell him that your mother wouldn’t stop gushing over you through the screen, nagging you to send full-body photos so she could appreciate you more.
Jimin and Soomin surprised you in the morning to help you fix up, insisting that they wanted to make sure you spoiled yourself for the event. If you wouldn’t, they would, so they treated you to the hair salon and had your nails done. They’re the ones who took so many photos like some formal dance, and Jimin commented that the only downside was that they were sending you off to pick up Jungkook.
Defending your boss the way you did surprised you a little; it surprised them a lot more. You’d said that he bought you the dress, that he’s been nothing but kind, and that whatever negative feelings you had towards him are all in the past. Your friends understood, deciding not to ruin your night and then letting you go so they could eat out and meet you back at your apartment once you’re done.
You chat with Mr. Ri about how things have been at work, your friends, and your family. You also talk about the gala and how it feels a little nerve-racking attending this time, given your experience with Jungkook.
It’s a grand event that the company’s executives attend, and guests are asked to refrain from going solo. For such requests, it’s not unusual for them to bring their assistants. You’re expected to attend anyway, and assistants usually partner up with each other and it always worked. You went with Hoseok last year because A-yeong had a work event, and while you expected that Jungkook wouldn’t care for such request and maintain that he’d go by himself, you also didn’t think that CEO Jeon would insist that his son take you as his date so he wouldn’t be alone.
The elder Jeon had reasoned that business discussions usually take place during the gala, and it would be good for you to be around and be familiar with the new people on the scene. Hoseok had said that they’re expected to stay through the whole thing, and it’s much better for his cousin to have a companion so he could survive the night. That was months ago when things were still a little shaky for you both. You still remember Jungkook’s displeased look when it seemed like he had no choice in the matter, especially since he probably thought that his father just wanted to make sure he’d act accordingly. It feels like a lifetime ago, really, as you think about his soft smile from last night.
You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, why his gestures or mannerisms suddenly mean something to you, or why there’s excitement when you think about seeing him outside of work. You’re unsure why the curve of his lips when he grins or the deep huff that follows his laugh makes you a little giddy, or why his eyes lingering on you makes your heart beat a little faster than usual.
Just like right now, as they gaze at you while you seemingly do the same.
“You look, uh—” he starts, unable to find the accurate but appropriate term to describe how you look.
“Nice?” You finish, recalling the term he’d used when you tried this gown for the first time.
“Something like that,” he chuckles, earning him a giggle from you.
He playfully shakes his head, perhaps knowing that you’re used to him not making grand compliments or anything. But he does smile after, and there goes that blissful feeling again.
Maybe it’s because for the first time, you’re being appreciated. Maybe just like how it’s been recently, he likes being around you, prefers it, even. And given how you felt so unwanted during his first few weeks here, this is a blessing, as if in his appreciation of you, you’re liking yourself as well.
“Well, in my opinion, you look quite dashing, Mr. Jeon,” you say bravely. “Except your waistcoat seems to be uneven.”
“Exactly what I thought,” he sighs. “I can’t quite align it properly.”
And as you always do, you approach him, your hands immediately going towards his shoulders to flatten the vest, then his sides to pull it down. You adjust it a little bit more then fix his collar after, and suddenly this feels so natural - being close to him, taking in his scent, and smiling as he glances at you.
“Do you need help with your coat?” You ask once you finish.
He nods and you follow him to his walk-in closet where you take the last piece of clothing and assist him in wearing it. He adjusts the lapels while you assess if all wrinkles have been flattened. You watch him look at himself in the mirror and you can’t help but admire him as well. He exudes confidence, which you can say now is strikingly different from the Appointment Dinner where he still looked a bit unsure. But now, he commands respect. The deep black color of his striped three-piece ensemble with his slick hair parted in the middle makes him even more handsome, and you manage to hold in the gasp you were about to release as he faces you for a final look.
“All good?” He asks.
“All good,” you smile, turning around and walking back to the living room.
He follows, and he takes this time to bask in your beauty before he has to act like it doesn’t affect him again.
There’s a reason why he was rendered speechless the first time he saw you in this gown at the tailor shop, so much so that he had to step out to get some air. You look even more stunning now, with your classic but natural-looking makeup and your styled hair. You exude a certain kind of glow that sucks him in, that makes his heart race yet soothes him just the same.
It’s a little dangerous for him, given that he’ll be spending this entire evening with you as his date, looking the way you do while he has to act disinterested, as if his attraction isn’t slapping him in the face and his internal alarm bells aren’t ringing.
But he has to act professional. He has to stay behind the lines even if his mind is yelling all the words about your beauty that he has to ignore. So he gives himself this short moment where he gets to admire you, and when you make it to the elevator and become confined in a small space, he holds his breath as you smile at him shyly, hoping that he doesn’t give himself away.
He’ll get himself together, he orders to himself, and he’ll make sure he doesn’t scare you off.
You make it to the lobby and enter the car. The drive to the venue is quiet at the beginning. It’s technically not a work day so there’s no reason to discuss work. You and Jungkook may have started talking about non-work matters but it doesn’t mean you readily talk about actual personal things. They’re occasional, as it’s not something he seems to do much and you’re often guarded about yours. It took a while for you to open up to Yoongi and even then, there are many things he doesn’t know. You’re comfortable around him, there’s no denying that, but there are still parts of you that you don’t like to share with others, and you suppose that Jungkook is the same.
But still, you ask how his evening was and how his day went, expecting he’d give a basic answer.
“I just stayed home last night and watched soccer over drinks,” he says. “Then I did my workout and went for a swim this morning. I did a bit of work in the afternoon and then got ready.”
“Ah, no party last night and then recovering from it in the morning?” You tease, knowing that’s a usual occurrence for him. Lucas did mention about the Singapore trip and how he’d taken home a passed out Jungkook on the night of his birthday.
“Well, there was a party,” he responds. “There always is, but I passed up on it. I didn’t want to feel out of sorts tonight. There’ll be a lot of new faces and I don’t wanna mess up.”
“Oh, you won’t. You’ve been doing really well, Mr. Jeon. And that’s me being honest.”
“Why wouldn’t you be?” He arches an eyebrow. “Would you tell me otherwise?”
“Well, the me of now, would. The me of a few months ago would want to but wouldn’t.”
Jungkook dwells on your answer. “Hmm. What changed, then?”
“I got used to you.”
He meets your gaze and somehow it feels too long. You don’t really know what prompted you to say it but you felt a little bold, a little too honest.
“In what sense?” he wonders, turning away now.
“I’d say I got used to the mood swings but then again, they haven’t been intense compared to those first few weeks,” you admit. “But surprisingly, it’s the calmness I’ve become accustomed to. And the seriousness and occasional zoning out, but also, the…”
Care, you want to say. Or the thoughtfulness.
“Consideration,” you say instead.
Jungkook’s throat dries up as he finds the words to say. He’s now afraid to look at you because he might give in and say something he’ll regret. He’s been praised before for his work and his designs, but he supposes that no one’s really complimented him for something he does for other people, specifically for you. Maybe that’s why he thinks he doesn’t deserve it; he’s unsure if he’s really considerate by nature or if he just is towards you. It’s why he brushes it off, insisting he just has his moments.
“But those moments could mean a lot to the one it’s shared with or directed to,” you counter. “Even if it was just once. Or even if it was so trivial that you probably forgot already. But the other person doesn’t. Or they would, but something about that moment stays.”
Jungkook thinks about the moments you’d shown him consideration. Or even care or thoughtfulness, but he wouldn’t word it that way to you. There are the big ones - when you showed your support of the Arts Center to his father, when you calmed him down during that first Board meeting, when you gave him the noodles when he was sick, when you stayed with him during his interview with the magazine publications.
When you stood up to him. When you didn’t quit after that first week.
There are also the small moments - the ginger and lemon tea on Monday mornings when he looks like he’d drank too much the night before, the biscuits you serve with his coffee, the affirming looks during team meetings, the comforting smiles from outside his office when he’s stressed.
There’s a lot of those you show him, and he realizes now that he remembers each one.
The silence returns soon after, as you both seem to prefer basking in the soft music that Mr. Ri plays.
It’s 15 minutes later when you arrive at the venue. You get out of the car and meet Jungkook by his door, surprised when he offers his arm that you take.
“This is how they do it, right?” He looks at you questioningly.
“Yes,” you chuckle. “It’s a little over-the-top but the hosts treat this like it’s some red carpet event and I just follow what the others do. Bitna says it’s the one time we could feel like proper ladies or something, whatever that means.”
“Hmm, makes sense. I guess I’ll be a proper gentleman, then. Whatever that means.”
You hold onto him lightly as you both make your way inside. You try to disregard the firmness of his arm and the way it feels under your touch, so you gently let go not long after and clutch onto your purse instead, not wanting to give off the idea that you’re anything more than each other’s dates. You greet the guests and establish your position to those who are unaware in an effort to show that this social event is a work function as well.
Jungkook talks about the Arts Center when he can, and you mentally take note of certain projects, sites, events, artists, and patrons that are mentioned, quickly typing them on your phone for future reference. He talks to you about them in between flutes of champagne and canapes that are some of the most delicious you’ve ever had.
Jungkook laughs as you down another brie and cranberry bruschetta.
“What? I like fancy food,” you pout.
“Yes, your normal people’s taste buds like fancy food,” he teases.
It’s a statement you make often and you smile that he now uses it against you.
Your moments of casual ignorance of what’s going on around you are ones you find yourself enjoying too much. You internally sigh every time a guest approaches him, and even more so when you find yourself with a few others and someone stands a little too close, or has his hand linger on your elbow, or whispers something in your ear as if you’re at a bar and the music is too loud, which it isn’t, so there’s really no reason for this son of some business tycoon to be asking you to head outside “to talk.”
“Don’t you have a date?” You ask after he insists.
“Yeah, some girl,” he shrugs. “She’s kinda boring. Lucky I found you.”
You awkwardly smile, knowing it’s not your place to reject him and make a scene. He looks to be the type who always gets his way and if he doesn’t this time, you’re afraid of how he might take it.
You don’t budge and call for another flute of champagne instead, finishing it in one gulp that has the man releasing a deep breath in front of you.
“So you’ve been working for the Jeon’s for 8 years, you say?” He speaks again.
You nod, looking around to avoid his eyes.
“That’s quite a long time, yeah? I’m sure I can get you a spot at my company,” he brags. “I mean, we sell luxury cars. That’s way more interesting than buildings and shit.”
“I don’t drive,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I don’t know how to.”
“Perfect. I can teach you then,” he smirks.
It’s the look that heightens your level of discomfort, and just as you’re about to make some excuse and run away, Jungkook calls your name that has you immediately turning towards him.
“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”
He’s not too far away; he comes closer yet still maintains a bit of a distance.
“Hoseok’s asking for me but I want to speak to Mr. Saito before he leaves. Can you go to my cousin on my behalf?”
“Of course,” you say, excusing yourself and scurrying away from the scene, sighing in relief at the sight of a familiar pair of faces.
A-yeong gives you a hug and you return it, then you turn to Hoseok and ask what he needs Jungkook for.
“Nothing,” he says. “I didn’t call for him.”
“Oh, okay. Well, he said you did.”
“I haven’t spoken to him since we got here,” Hoseok replies. “You know how this gala goes. So many people to meet. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, just… uh. Well, I just met Mr. Kwon’s son. And let’s just say, I don’t want that to happen again.”
“Oh, ___,” A-yeong sighs, knowing exactly what you mean. “Just stay with us. Or don’t leave Jungkook’s side.” Turning towards the man who’d just arrived, she adds, “stay close to her, okay?”
Jungkook looks at you, his eyes asking a question that you know the answer to but neither of you says anything.
“I will,” he nods.
Both of you stay where you are for a while before heading back to your seats for the sit-down dinner. You converse with those at your table, thankful that they’re all decent and entertaining. After that, Jungkook doesn’t leave your side. It almost seems like he’s your date rather than the other way around, but you appreciate his presence, especially when he calls your attention once you start looking uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I just… I just get a little uneasy when people I don’t know get too close.”
“I understand. I’m the same,” he says, prompting you to look at him. “But I just feel uncomfortable, not unsafe. There’s a difference. And it’s not okay if that’s how they make you feel.”
He knew without you saying the words. It takes you back to that night at the restaurant with Hajoon and how Jungkook had looked the most guilty he’d ever been when you said that his staring made you feel uncomfortable. You supposed then that it was mostly because he thought he was causing a rift between you and Hajoon but you realize now that it was more than that. For all that Jungkook is, you’ve come to see that there are things he can’t stand himself doing; deliberately making you feel unsafe is definitely one of them. Perhaps it’s why at this moment, you feel the exact opposite being around him.
And that’s how the rest of the night goes. He stays close but when he’s caught up in a conversation he can’t get out of, he gives you that look to remind you that it’s okay to step away, that you have the ability to remove yourself from a situation you don’t feel good being in. And you do, and the worry you used to have about being a mere assistant fades away. You never thought that one Jeon Jungkook would give you the permission to do that.
You’re seated on a chair some time later, the hours of walking in your high heels taking its toll on you. You wave to Hoseok and A-yeong, no longer having the energy to walk up to them for a proper goodbye. You sigh to yourself, feeling the tiredness slowly overtake you. It was still a good night, but it took a lot of energy from you, too.
“Hey,” you hear Jungkook call out.
You turn to him, still looking handsome as he stands nearby, his hands in his pockets as he mirrors your exhaustion.
“Ready to head home?” He asks.
“Yes,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh.
You stand up, limping only a tiny bit, but you think Jungkook notices, as he offers his arm just like he did at the start of the night.
“This is what a proper gentleman does, right?” He asks.
“I suppose. Although I might say, Mr. Jeon, that’s what you were the entire time. So thank you.”
Jungkook nods in response, unsure how to receive your gratitude. He knows what you mean, as the first sign of your discomfort had him looking at you constantly. He was worried all night but he supposes there’s no reason to feel that way now, as your faint smile just signifies that you’re tired more than anything.
For the short moment it takes for you to walk closer to him, he basks in your beauty once more. The night will be over soon, and he’s glad he could give you some reprieve this time. He tries not to lose it when you tighten your grip on his arm for support though, but that’s something he can think about later on.
The walk to the car isn’t that long and you let go of him eventually. You head towards the other door then enter, the space in between reminding him of where you both belong - on either side of a line, one that he shouldn’t think of crossing.
You sink into your seat, fighting the urge to curl your body and take a nap, so you sit up straight and hold yourself together after once again feeling Jungkook’s arm under your touch. Most of the alcohol has left your system but perhaps not enough, as you boldly look at him and smile in appreciation. He returns it, perhaps knowing why you are.
You look out the window, appreciating Seoul’s night sky, until the vision starts getting unclear, as the rain falls steadily on the window. The tapping of the droplets on the glass is a sound you’ve come to appreciate, among other things that you used to be terrified of.
There’s just this calmness, as if the rain is greeting you, accompanying you in your thoughts. But the sound of the radio getting louder disrupts that a little bit, and in looking at Mr. Ri in question only to find him glancing at the rearview mirror to see the man next to you, do you realize why he’s doing so.
Jungkook’s demeanor has changed, a complete 180 to how he looked not long ago when he seemed satisfied, fulfilled, almost proud of himself for surviving the night. He’s now cross-legged and cross-armed, with his eyes closed and jaws clenched, as if he’s trying to hold himself together. Or trying his best to drown out the sound of the rain, the way Mr. Ri is trying to do for him.
Your face falls at the sight. You’ve seen Jungkook stressed and angry and disappointed; you’ve seen him anxious, too, but this is different. There’s a bit of fear in there, and with the way he flinches and how he’s clutching onto his arms, you know this comes from somewhere and this was caused by something. If it’s anything similar to what you know, then this was because of something painful.
You want to reach out to him but you know you shouldn’t. You helplessly look back on the road then glance at Jungkook every few seconds as the rain continues. It doesn’t seem like it will be a terrible downpour but it’s stronger than usual.
You try to remember instances in the past where he’d acted this way. A few come to mind, and you think now there’s a reason why he becomes uneasy when it starts to drizzle. That happened the other week while you were on a site visit with him for a small project, but you hadn’t thought much of it, given that he was on his fourth cup of coffee on the way there.
But right now, you wish there was something more you could do; anything is better than nothing. But you feel constrained - by the distance, by your position, by his boundaries that seem to always be there.
By some miracle, the rain weakens, and it’s stopped by the time you arrive at Jungkook’s apartment building. The car halts and with him still in the same position, you think he probably doesn’t realize he’s home.
“Mr. Jeon,” you say softly, gently tapping his arm to get his attention. “We’ve reached your place. And the rain has stopped. It’s… it’s okay to open your eyes now.”
It takes a few seconds but he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, then looks around. It’s just droplets frozen in time on his window and he sighs in relief. Somehow the assurance that he’s okay means something to you this time; you hate to think of what burden he carries that he hides away.
He opens the door, and there’s a bit of disappointment you feel when he closes it and leaves without a goodbye. You suppose he just wants to get to his place immediately and rush to safety. But you don’t want to intrude, not if distance is what he needs, so you settle with just watching him walk away.
But then he turns around, and with that bit of boldness left in your body, you open the window and give him another smile. You wish he feels the tenderness in it; you wish somehow it’s enough to let him know that you understand, and that he’s not alone.
“Good night,” you manage to say, and he hears it despite the distance.
“Good night, ___. And thank you.”
It’s the use of your name. It’s the softness of his smile and the words of gratitude. It’s the way he lingers as the car starts to drive away and you’re left watching him even from afar.
It lets you know that he knows. And it’s the reason why you sleep soundly that night and why for the first time since you’ve met him, you can’t wait to see him again.
Series Masterlist
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#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x oc#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook series#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#boss jungkook
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You and me makes three
(or four, or five ...)
Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 4
Prompts: Breeding Kink & Vibrator
Rated: E
Words: 1,359
Tags: Omegaverse; A/B/O dynamics; Alpha Steve; Omega Eddie; Mates; Mpreg; Pregnancy Kink; Breeding Kink; Vibrators; Knotting; Possessive Steve; Jealous Steve
Notes: Set in the same universe as Whatever you want it to be
“Steve. Stevie, c’mon. Wake up, please.”
Steve shoots upright with a sound that's half snore and half growl, bleary eyes scanning the bedroom for threats. Then, his nostrils flare and the feral snarl gives way to a disbelieving frown.
“What, seriously?” he asks. “Again?”
Eddie shrugs. The movement makes more slick ooze from between his legs. Maybe he'd be embarrassed about it, if Steve's pupils didn't blow up like that, or if his scent didn't spike like it does. Or if he wasn't feeling this desperately, mind-numbingly horny.
“Sorry?” he says. “I'd take care of it myself, but it's getting kinda hard to reach, what with your kid in the way.”
Being pregnant is fucking bizarre.
Eddie has tried to approach it with an open mind, once the initial shock wore off and Steve assured him he wasn't going anywhere. But now, six months in? The whole thing just continues to weird him out.
Don’t get him wrong, he loves Steve. He’s the most perfect alpha and mate Eddie could've asked for. He’s going to make an amazing father to this kid. Which Eddie is sure will be adorable. He just sort of wishes he could skip the part where he needs to grow it in his own belly, being forced to put up with another hormone-induced ridiculousness every other week.
Hell, he thought the morning sickness was bad. Or the mood swings. Or the inexplicable cravings for salt and vinegar potato chips at three in the morning. But this most recent thing is well and truly taking the cake.
Steve yawns and grumbles, and Eddie can't say he blames him. The kid isn't even born yet and here he goes, robbing them both of their much needed sleep because his body has decided they need to get it on at least two times a day or perish. It’s fucking stupid!
Still, Steve folds back the covers, pulls open the nightstand drawer, and slips closer. Eddie sighs in relief when his mate's naked body slots into his from behind, already hard and pressing against his entrance, right where he needs it. Only a second later, the warm, solid weight of Steve’s cock is joined by something else, something smoother and colder, and the sigh turns into a low moan. Steve laughs softly and kisses his naked shoulder as the dildo hums to life.
What did he say? Best goddamn alpha in the world.
“This is so weird,” Steve murmurs as he pushes in, the combined girth of his cock and the toy stretching Eddie wide open, his free arm wrapping around the soft swell of Eddie’s belly to pull him close. “This was in none of the pregnancy books.”
“I know, ri-?” Eddie starts to say, but needs to stop himself for the chirp that bubbles from his chest. He feels deliciously full, the low vibrations of the toy sending shivers all the way down his spine, making little fireworks sizzle low in his abdomen. “Right? Seriously, what the fuck? You’ve knocked me up already, not like you can put ano- … another one in there.”
Steve, who has just started rolling his hips in lazy circles, goes very still. For a few seconds, the only sound in the bedroom is that of the dildo still humming away.
“What?” Eddie asks when he still hasn't moved after a while. “Steve, I swear to God, if you've fallen asleep with your dick inside of me I'll-”
“No,” Steve blurts. “I'm awake. It's just …”
He pauses to clear his throat and fidget, and that is when Eddie catches the change in his scent. Earthy and heady and distinctly aroused.
“Oh God,” he groans. “Don't tell me that does it for you!”
“What?” Steve mutters, and Eddie doesn't need to see his blush to know it's there. “You gotta admit, the thought is kinda hot.”
His hand finds Eddie’s belly, splaying over the round shape of it, and Eddie’s own cock twitches treacherously.
“Shut up, it's not,” he says, even as the familiar feeling pools at the base of his spine, hot and tight and urgent. Steve chuckles, pressing his face into the crook of his neck and scraping his teeth over the mating bite there.
“Your scent says otherwise, baby,” he murmurs, and Eddie can feel his smile against his skin as another chirp escapes him. “Just imagine … me stuffing you with my cock? Filling you up with my come, knotting you so good that not a single drop escapes? Breeding you round and full with my pups? I wonder how many I could put into you.”
“Oh God,” Eddie groans, baring his neck for better access and rocking his hips back as Steve finally, finally starts moving his cock and the toy inside of him again. “You're such a weirdo.”
Steve laughs, picking up speed. “Takes one to know one. Maybe that's the reason you can't get enough lately. Why no matter what I do, you never seem to be full enough. Why I need to use this thing…”
He pauses to push the toy in further, hitting that spot deep inside that sends sparks of pleasure zapping all the way into Eddie’s fingertips and toes.
“... to get you anywhere near satisfied for a few hours.”
“Aw, don't tell me you're jealous,” Eddie says. He tries to sound teasing but it comes out a lot weaker than intended. It's difficult, being smart while Steve is taking him apart in all the best ways. “You know there's no need to, right? Not with your baby in my belly and your mark on my neck. I'm all yours and nobody else's, alpha.”
Steve growls at the word, his summer forest scent filling the room like a tangible thing, and that is all the warning Eddie gets before the toy is pulled out and he finds himself flipped on his back, Steve's cock still inside of him, Steve’s lips claiming his for a hungry kiss.
“Nobody else’s,” Steve repeats. The bed frame creaks under the power of his thrusts as he fucks Eddie into the mattress. “All mine, forever and ever and ever.”
Eddie can’t say he minds the thought one single bit.
*
“You’re so beautiful like this, have I told you?”
Dawn is starting to creep through the blinds of the bedroom window, but Steve keeps running reverent hands over Eddie’s belly, eyes full of awe, and Eddie preens under the attention.
“Don’t mind if you tell me again, big boy.”
Steve purrs, pushing back Eddie’s sweaty fringe so that he can kiss his forehead and the bridge of his nose. “Absolutely breathtaking. My mate, carrying my child. I’m gonna put so many in you.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Eddie yawns, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back as well as he can. The movement makes Steve’s knot, still large and locked inside of him, catch deliciously. “Can we just try to make it one after the other? I like actually walking places instead of rolling. Call me old-fashioned, but it’s an ability I’m rather attached to.”
“Oh, yeah?” Steve gives him a smug grin and rolls his hips. “There's another thing you're attached to right now, and that's my-.”
Eddie slaps a hand in front of his mouth. “Ugh, you're such a dork. I hope the kid doesn't inherit your sense of humor.”
Steve kisses his open palm.
“I hope they inherit your everything,” he says, ridiculously earnest, and Eddie needs to bury his face in the sheets to hide the way his face ignites.
“Whatever,” he mumbles at the pillows, ignoring how Steve’s chest quivers with barely concealed laughter. “Let's go back to sleep. Have you looked at the time?”
“Says the one who woke me because he needed to get dicked,” Steve grumbles, but obediently pulls the covers over them, curling himself around Eddie.
Silence descends over the bedroom, and Eddie loses himself in Steve’s soothing scent as he slowly begins to drift off again.
“Don't listen to him,” he hears Steve whisper, just before sleep claims him. “I'm hilarious and he knows it.”
A warm hand settles on his belly.
“Sleep well. Can't wait to meet you.”
More smutty September
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie brainrot#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#steddie smutty september#hype's smutty september#whatever you want it to be
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love sick — 06. passion is a passing thing
romance 101; guideline #9 — show interest in their hobbies and involve yourself in the things they love.
masterlist — previous | next
❥ fun facts !
there were two instances where [name] managed to successfully get away from terushima, first was with semi (the fight he mentioned) and the second was with atsumu where he acted like he was “interested” and “guarding” [name].
[name] finds it hard to say no to anyone.
love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au
synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).
a/n — filler chapter sorry jexhwjd not much suna content ! also is this the right time to say im a terushima hater…
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if i can not tag you, please change your mention settings to “everyone” thank you!
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smau#haikyuu fluff#hq x reader#hq#haikyuu x you#suna rintarou x reader#fake dating#college au#haikyuu smau series#suna rintarou x you#— love sick.#— smaus.#haikyuu suna rintarou#suna rintarou#suna#rintarou#haikyuu suna#haikyuu rintarou#suna x reader#haikyuu suna x reader
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Se Riña Qilōni Iprattan Se Jēdar | VI
Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary | Saera Targaryen daughter of Jaehaerys I ran away from Westeros to escape her fate. 45 years later her daughter Y/N Targaryen, with invitation from King Viserys wishes to go back.
Tags | Angst, Slowburn (Hot&Cold), TargCest, Smut, Standard ASOIAF content, Aemond and Reader are First Cousins Once Removed, Reader is Self-serving, Terrible Sibling Dynamics, Fluff tags to be added
Special warnings | Violence against women, Incel-like behavior, descriptions of injuries
Word Count: 3.6k
Author Notes | I have put up a poll to get readers feel for a certain story direction, please give it a quick vote! Poll here
Prologue | Chapter V | | Chapter VII Masterlist
Chapter VI | Love Thy Sister
“What do you think of her?” Alicent asks her son, looking up at him from her cushioned seat. Alicent hoped by telling Aemond to take the girl for a walk she’d feel welcome enough for the time being. Even though she is legitimized as a Targaryen, she can leave at any time. If she does not feel welcome, she may take herself and her titles back to Volantis. Back to the whore house her mother is from and disgrace the Targaryen name just as her mother did, and the blame would be put on Alicent.
“I suppose she is a good conversationalist… as beautiful as they say her mother is.” Aemond looks down at her, he rubs his hand along his jaw. Aemond knows his duty that was forced upon him, Alicent does not doubt this.
However, she has influenced him to have a greater distaste for bastards. Of course, she doesn’t expect nor want Aemond to put his biases to the side, but for the safety of the Targaryen name he must learn to push it down for her.
“Continue to keep her happy, if you wander-“
“I am not Aegon if that’s what you are implying.” Aemond interrupts her with one of his quips. Alicent rubs her temples with a sigh, in her mind she knows Aemond would never do such a thing, but you can never be fully sure with young men. Aemond places his hand on Alicents shoulder, bringing her out of thought and she looks back up at her son.
“She knows what she is and I can deal with that.”
—————
The sun has sunk below the horizon and you stand with your hands gripping the stone of your balcony. The light breeze pushes your loose hair to the side, tickling your cheeks.
The past 5 days have been repeating each other, waking up, fitting into tight clothes that you still can’t get used to, breaking your fast alone, taking brisk walks through the gardens; you’ve taken to needlework to fill up your time, still not good at it. Ending your days eating dinner with Vaegon, he insists on sitting next to you instead of on the other side of the table, you’ve gotten tired of telling him otherwise.
Your only real interactions have been with Aegon, he manages to find you in the gardens every day. It has become routine at this point. Small conversations where he stands a little too close and rests his hand on your lower back. Your brother was fuming behind the two of you, but alas there was nothing he could do.
Perhaps Aegon simply got a kick out of your brother's reaction; in that case, you don’t mind at all.
Aemond hadn't bothered to even acknowledge your existence. You haven't seen him, heard him, smelled him, tasted him, touched him. All your senses are absent of him!
Your head had been so full of ideal situations, that you didn’t consider living an isolated life in a foreign land! You had to push down girlish thoughts and take charge for yourself!
“Are you done with your childish games sister?”
You were knocked out of your thoughts by Vaegon resting his armor-covered hands on the back of your shoulders. You tensed up at the contact, your stomach instantly became uneasy.
“Your fantasies didn’t work out. No prince to whisk you off your feet as we pretended when we were children. Only a maimed icy boy who doesn’t love you.” He begins to gently massage your shoulders. Disgust rises on your face with your fists so tight your nails may draw blood.
“And you do?” You do not turn to look at him, simply at the night sky.
“More than that freak could.” He laughs resting his chin on your shoulders and moves his hands to caress your arms. This pushed you far over the line. You turned around and pushed him back with full force, it didn’t do much but push him a foot back. Frustrated at this failed attempt you slap him making sure to claw his skin with your nails.
You hadn’t meant to dig that deep. Vaegons scream was in true carnal pain, he held his cheek with blood flowing from between his fingers. You had scarred him from cheekbone to chin. You looked down to your hand and you could see the skin you tore off beneath your nails. You looked back at him in shock, your mouth went dry as you couldn’t think of any words to say.
“You fucking cunt!”
You saw your brother's eyes turn from purple to black as he ran to grip your neck with both hands, knocking the wind out of you. He was crushing your throat and his hand armor was cutting deeply.
“Va-vaegon plea-“ you begin to claw at his hands as you choke out words.
“I will not come second to some pompous cunt! I have worked all my life to prove myself worthy of you! Yet you whore yourself out to the first cock that fills your self serving cunt.” He shook you around with gritted teeth, not seeming to care about the sting and blood from his cheek. “You stand there and mock me in the gardens and let that whore of a Prince touch you, am I the only one you won’t fuck?!”
Black spots started to form in your vision, he was trying to strangle you to death, and you could see it in his eyes.
You whisper something weakly enough that he cannot make out. He leans in hopes of hearing words of submission to feed his sick fantasies.
You gargle up the saliva that you cannot swallow and spit directly into his ear. He instantly jumps back and pushes you away. He falls on his ass getting away from you. You erupt in laughter even when your spine makes contact with the stone balcony you laugh through the pain.
Vaegon is at a loss for words, tears start to form and threaten to fall down his face. Humiliation is all over his face, you have permanently scarred his face. Maimed him as he laughed at Aemond for being. This scar was not gained honorably, not in a battle, not because he was punished, not from protecting a damsel in distress. He gained nothing from it.
He let a woman, his sister, swipe him so brutally. It made him even less of a man in the eyes of everyone.
No mother to comfort him, not even a whore to console him, the only person he had was his sister who was looking down on him.
Laughing at him.
Your laughter died down, small giggles escaping your lips still. The lack of air to your head and raw adrenaline diluted the pain you should be feeling at the moment. You walked over to your brother, looking down at him as he looked down at you moments ago with his hands on your throat.
“I am greater than you now brother, you are still a bastard. I could have you hung and spiked on the walls. However, it breaks my heart to see you like this.” You say softly with a joking tone. Vaegon continues looking up at you with a rage behind his eyes.
“If it would serve as compensation. You can have the privilege of standing guard at mine and Prince Aemonds marital chambers on our wedding night. As a parting gift.”
Vaegon instantly stands on his feet and scoffs with a baffled expression. Suddenly, the weight of his crimes against a noble hit him hard, and he rushed out of the room to escape to who knows where.
You stood there for a few moments, absorbing your grand victory. You didn’t care where he ran, who he ran to, what he was going to do after running. Your breath was heavy and your lungs began to feel like they were struggling to take air in.
Just as your adrenaline calmed down it rose back up with anxiety. You rushed over to your mirror and looked at your neck to see bruises already forming and where his armor had cut your neck. How could you explain this? Someone will see your bruises and see Vaegons cheek and put it together.
You hadn’t noticed the tears running down your face until you looked in the mirror, you looked in disarray.
The pain started to shock through your body, finally registering the violence Vaegon put onto you.
Your throat felt like it was closing up, the pressure from your corset made the rising bruise on your lower back hurt so badly you feared you might empty your stomach on the floor.
You saw the blood trail on the floor and your eyes moved over to the balcony and there was a small pool of blood in plain sight. You looked around your chambers for anything to clean it up. You froze by the sound of knocking at your door followed by your door opening.
You hear the sound of crashing and liquid splashing on the floor. Someone rushed to your side who you recognized to be Mela. She knelt by your sitting form and held your arms gently.
“Princess! What happened?! Who hurt you?!” Mela attempted to talk calmly but the urgency of the moment raised her tone.
You don’t know what happened, all of a sudden everything came crashing down onto you. You were crying so hard you couldn’t form any words, your throat and neck hurt even worse with all your heavy breathing. Stuttering out incoherent and unfinished sentences with hand gestures that meant nothing.
Mela stood and held you close to your chest like a mother would, and you held onto her arms and cried. She yelled something at Ellyn and the girl rushed out of the room, the door left wide open potentially for anyone to see. The pain of being manhandled by Vaegon started seeping in and all of a sudden your whole body started hurting, you couldn’t tell where it was coming from; you only knew it hurt.
“Shhhh, Let me see Princess.”
Mela lifted your chin and gasped at the state of your neck. She lightly touched one of the fresh bruises, even the lightest touch made you whimper and flinch away. You couldn’t breathe without pain shocking through your body which made you cry more so tears never stopped streaming down your face.
A barrage of footsteps approaches the open door to see Mela holding your sobbing body. Immediately a maester is by your side, gently pushing Mela away to see your injuries. You close your eyes to think the pain away, and a few gasps follow when your neck becomes exposed.
“Gods be good, who did this Princess?” The Maester touched around your neck to examine the damage. You couldn’t think, the feeling of eyes on you, the pain in your neck, the pain in your lower back tightened by a corset.
You claw at the back of your dress just wanting to tear it off. Mela stops your hands to pull you onto your feet, your groans of pain don’t stop her at all. Ellyn moves behind you to loosen the layers of your dress. You let out a deep sigh of relief when your corset is removed and your body almost fully collapses into Mela.
Your lower back is revealed with the removal of the corset and you hear gasps of sympathy from the other maids in the room. Mela has you against her in a way that your breasts aren’t revealed to keep some form of modesty, even if it’s just maids and a maester.
“Gods… what has happened here?!” Alicents voice sounded through the room, her voice painted with concern.
“I’m not sure my Queen, she’s in too much pain. She won't speak.” The Maester said without turning to Alicent still looking around at the newly discovered bruise. The Maester leaves the room to hopefully get some kind of ointment or cream to soothe you.
You looked up at Alicent and she looked down at you, biting at the skin of her thumb.
The small part of you that isn’t in pain feels humiliated, this was your triumphant moment over your brother. But here you are, crying so hard you can’t speak, naked from the waist up, multiple people gawking at your injured limp body. You can barely even listen to the people around you, blood is pumping through your ears.
A nightgown comes over your head and you move your arms slowly to fill the armholes. By the feeling of the fabric you can tell it’s not one from Westeros, it’s one of your own from Volantis. With these, your back could remain open instead of being rubbed with cloth. You watch Alicent move her hand to caress your hair gently, looking at you with an expression you can’t make out. Sympathy? Pity?
Alicent leans down and murmurs something to you.
“Was this Aemond?”
You shake your head no and the queen lets out a sigh of relief and does one wipe of your cheek with her thumb. You made an earnest attempt to squeeze out any sound through your tightening throat.
“Vaegon-“ you pointed to the blood near the balcony, the hand you pointed with still had his blood and skin on your fingers.
“Where is her brother? Find him!” Alicents voice rises to yell at the guards nearby. She leaves the room with haste to go off to who knows where.
You are guided onto a couch deeper into your chambers to allow room for a maid with water and cloth to gently dab your neck. You try your best to contain your whimpers to not humiliate yourself further. Another maid grabs your hand with a wet cloth and cleans the hand you scarred Vaegon with.
After some time the Maester reentered the room with a jar of some kind of ointment. You hope the cream provides some instant comfort, anything to relieve your aches. Tears still streaked down your face, the pain still ever persistent, but you held your whimpers down still.
“Alright Princess, I’ve retrieved an ointment made of arnica. It should help with the aches and inflammation.” The Maester hands the ointment to Ellyn, she quickly replaces the maid behind you. You move your hair away to expose your neck.
Everyone besides Ellyn begins to make their leave to give you privacy now that their duty is done. You close your eyes and let out a sigh of relief when Ellyn starts to gently rub the bruised area on the back of your neck. However your eyes don’t stay closed for long; as the door opens for everyone to make their leave, a soft ‘My Prince’ in unison makes your eyes instantly open.
Aemond enters the room with long strides, passing by servants without care. He was wearing his normal black leather, eyepatch, and sword still at his side. Ellyn stopped applying the ointment to stand up, and give a small bow to Aemond with a customary ‘my Prince’.
“Mm. Give it here.” Aemond holds out his hand to be given the ointment. He scans the room to see the blood has not yet been cleaned up.
“Clean that up and make your leave.” He hums, Ellyn quickly hands him the jar and grabs a cloth.
“Aemond...” You whisper to not force your voice. You jump at the feeling of Aemonds ungloved fingers applying ointment to the back of your neck. Aemonds touch struggles to be gentle, his hands are roughly textured, and you can tell he hasn’t had to be gentle with much before.
“I caught him.” He said in a normal tone. You look to the side, your eye area red and cheeks still wet from your never-ending crying. A look of confusion grazed your face under your pained expression.
“I walk in the gardens at night. I heard him yelling, I saw him push you. I figured he would run.” Aemonds fingers moved to the side of your neck that was exposed to him.
“Do not take it as much. A bastard boy attacked a…Targaryen. A high crime, it was simply duty.” He talks like he doesn’t care, truly unreadable... Almost like the hardened guards that are on duty in front of the black wall in Volantis, but not quite that extreme.
But here he sits, doing his best to gently rub in ointment into the bruised necklace painted into your skin. You can’t help but give him a slight smile, Aemonds eye flickers up and moves right back down.
Without being able to speak more than a word or two, you and Aemond sit in silence. Even when he turns you around to get the front of your throat.
You got the opportunity to look at his face closer than you ever had. Your eyes traced his red scar, your sight stopped by his eyepatch but it continued below; on down to his sharp strong nose which huffed out deep breaths occasionally; to his pink lips, straightened in focus. Of course, his most important features to you, his one good eye, a beautiful shade of purple, pointed down looking at your neck and ever so often flicked further down when he needed to get more from the jar. His platinum white hair was tucked behind his ears so he didn’t get any in his face while leaning down.
This wouldn’t last. You knew that. Soon he would remember reality and pull back once again.
“Turn back around, I have to get your back.”
Your view of Aemond is torn away by his hands twirling you back around. He makes a ‘mmm’ sound and rubs the excess on his fingers on the middle of your open back. Leaving you rather confused until he speaks.
“Your lower back is covered by your nightgown. I have to pull it down.”
You jump a little at the idea of being almost fully naked in front of him, even though the sheer fabric of your nightgown left nothing to the imagination and left most of your skin open to the air. It’s the implication of it all.
“Gods, Calm down. I will only be seeing your back, nothing I won’t see soon enough.”
Aemond pulls at the sleeves of your nightgown and slides it down as low as it can go as you are sitting down. Even though he is behind you and can’t see your breasts you feel the need to cover them with your arms, but you resist.
Aemond starts to apply ointment once again, he presses a little too hard and a gasp gets caught in your throat, and flinch away. Aemond grasps your hips to still you and bring you back.
“I’m sorry. Let me try again.”
You nod and hope that he’s more gentle this time. This bruise was a single large long bruise straight across your lower back so it made it harder to comfortably touch it at all. He was as gentle as he could be, it would hurt regardless.
You had to make it through the pain yourself. Focusing on making the pain go away in your head. The first thought that came to your head was how intimate this position felt compared to the others. The lower back felt like one of the more intimate locations to touch between two people. Yes, Aegon touches you there occasionally but you only allowed that because you knew Vaegon was looking.
Aemond doing it felt different. Even if it was just him helping you. His touch brought pain with it but it still somehow got a shiver up your spine that was pleasant in its own way.
He applied the ointment rather quickly, you snapped out of your thoughts when he began to bring your nightgown back up your body and you slipped your arms through the strapped sleeves.
“You should sleep soon, you will heal faster,” Aemond spoke, rubbing your arms from the back. You froze when you felt his breath on the back of where your neck met your shoulder. Your heart starts beating fast as you can almost feel his lips disrupt the peach fuzz on your skin.
Suddenly seconds later Aemond abruptly pulls away physically and emotionally, just as he did before. He stands and briskly walks to your chamber door, on his way he taps onto a table to put your attention to a goblet and pitcher.
“Should aid with sleep.”
You didn’t even get a chance to process anything. You swore you still felt his touch on your skin, it made you shiver. Aemond shut the door all but gently, leaving you alone with yourself. You sighed at the loss of touch and Aemond ran off once again.
You wouldn’t see Aemond for a few days once again.
You pushed yourself up onto your feet with a sharp pain. The ointment helped but it didn’t help with sudden movements. You hobbled over to the table Aemond gestured to. You studied it briefly before pouring the substance into the goblet. It was a cloudy blue color, you weren’t sure what to make of it. You reluctantly took a sip, your body wanted to reject it instantly. It tasted extremely bitter with an undertone of honey. It must’ve been put there for a reason so you at least finish the cup.
Not being able to drink anymore you blow out the bigger lights in your chambers, leaving the smaller ones still lit. You started to feel drowsy, deciding to commit to lying down. Getting under the covers trying to get comfortable, you decided it was too hot under them and pushed them to the side to only cover part of your body. You found a single position that didn’t put extreme pressure on your bruises and instantly fell to sleep.
—————
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tsukasa tenma has ADHD!! except it's an actual analysis because 1. look at my url 2. i'm mentally unwell (and i started to love tsukasa mostly because i immediately recognized my ADHD traits in him). which is a thing i should probably leave for ADHD awareness month, HOWEVER!! it was my birthday yesterday and i wanted to spoil myself (i just kinda overlooked how much time writing it from scratch would take me, so i'm a bit late with it). and i reaaally don't wanna wait until november when i finally wrote it down because i'm so HYPED because i was preparing for it like what? two years? somewhere around it. and that's a LONG time.
please keep in mind that i'm no psychologist, psychiatrist nor a neurologist and while i do use some sources (cannot really confirm if they are true, though... because i forgot to write credits down... so i'm really sorry for that), most of this analysis was just based off on my personal experiences with the disorder (and i don't really have the full professional knowledge of what i struggle with i'm just a Boy). i mean, i am analyzing a character from a hatsune miku game. i think i'm already putting way too many effort than i should.
also the examples of tsukasa's behavior here are not all of the things, because i wrote down only the things i remember off from the top of my head. sorry, guys. my hyperactive ass is not sitting thru all the stories again just to get my crumbs, unfortunately.
anyways, with this a little bit unprofessional and messy introduction, let's get it started!
1. THE MAIN PART OF THIS WHOLE THING, AKA HOW THE ADHD SYMPTOMS CORRESPOND TO TSUKASA'S BEHAVIOR
i wanted to write it down in my own words, but i think the screen above has summed it up perfectly; there are some established symptoms of ADHD, but to be an ADHDer you don't have to experience them all. and this is going to explain why i'm gonna show a lot of these symptoms later, yet gonna connect only some of them with tsukasa. it's only these i have evidence for, and yet i think they're good enough to point at tsukasa and already say woah! an ADHDer!!
in short, there are three types of ADHD: hyperactive, inattentive (ADD) and combined. the combined one is the most common iirc, so that's also what i'm going to focus on today. especially since for a rep of the other types, i could say that shizuku's a rather great representation of ADD — but that's not the point of my ted talk today, so i'm not going to go into the detail about it. i'm sure some momojan or shizuku oshi would do better than me in this field, so i'm leaving it to the experts.
these are the symptoms that i managed to gather — the first two screens being about the symptoms viewed in children, the last one being about the symptoms viewed in adults. "in which one of them tsukasa belongs to?" that's a good question, because i actually don't know. calling a high schooler a child doesn't sit quite right with me, yet a freshly turned 17/18-years-old is not exactly an adult, either (although most of the symptoms i'm analyzing come from these that are viewed in adults). and while i do think tsukasa has more of the symptoms viewed in adults, we're gonna analyse them all! because i'm putting my all into this.
FORGETFULNESS
i believe there's not much left to say, as this is the most obvious one and everyone already knows that. even though it's not touched that much anymore for some reason, tsukasa's forgetfulness is his very apparent trait. it varies in severity a lot of times: from him basically forgetting both his childhood and true feelings in the main story to him, for example, forgetting his own phone and lunch (in the same day!!) in hinamatsuri. even saki in the same event, while they were arguing, called him a "big, dumb forgetter" and assumed that he forgot what happened the day he brought her the hinamatsuri dolls to hospital. while forgetting basically half of your life is not exactly normal and can be a sign of something bigger, like dissociative amnesia, his forgetting of just the ordinary things and it happening a lot definitely still fits this trait.
EXCESSIVE TALKING/PHYSICAL MOVEMENT
while this is something that you'd rather connect to emu (and for a good reason), it's not like tsukasa is completely devoid of it either; he talks a lot. he moves a lot. it's not on emu's level of hyperactivity, but it's also not "a lot" that's taken as a social norm, based on how the people around him react. he's putting the 1 in oddball 1 2, after all.
in holy night or some side stories connected to it (it might be meiko's side story? but i'm not exactly sure) it was also said that tsukasa moves in his sleep a lot to this point that his parents have to leave his christmas presents under his door instead of next to his bed.
oh, and he also talks to himself a lot. even in class, which was confirmed in chapter 6 of dazzling (or maybe even earlier, it's just the one moment that i remember). (but i'll get to this moment later on)
he says his long monologues, he strikes his poses at every occasion — and while i don't think that's the first thing you think of when you have "excessive talking/movement" in mind, for me it sure does count as it.
LITTLE OR NO SENSE OF DANGER
this point can seem rather weird, because "isn't tsukasa always riddiculed at rui's weird inventions"? well, yeah, he is, that is not a thing to deny. but he also agrees to try out most of them, if not all, if it's for the sake of the show. he's aware of what can happen, but he also doesn't back away if it means that he'll be one step closer to achieving his dream of stardom.
does it count as "little sense of danger"? well, i'm actually not sure, for me it doesn't, but maybe for someone it does. i'd say that's a rather weak point, but i wanted to include the explanation for the counterpoint of it — that's why i even mentioned it in the first place. i don't have a lot to say about this tbh.
update: oh, actually no, wait, i just remembered. remember how tsukasa in phoenix decided to not eat anything for three days just to be able to resonate with rio, while also having to do straining exercise on top of that? you certainly cannot say that's a safe thing to do, but he still went along with that in order to get the role. it makes me come to a conclusion that tsukasa actually has a sense of danger, but sometimes chooses to willingly ignore it if only it makes him get closer to fulfilling his dream. i think it's coming close enough to the little/no sense of danger to be actually considered an ADHD trait.
DIFFICULTY KEEPING QUIET
while i'm not sure if what i'm going to talk about is a difficulty keeping quiet in a traditional sense of way, it definitely counts as it, somehow: tsukasa is loud. like, really loud. and that's another obvious fact both for us and for characters in-universe, especially when thinking of tsukasa shiho's first thought is that he's kinda noisy, which can be seen in the "a friend's brother" 1koma. (and probably a lot of other cases. free shiho.)
tsukasa doesn't seem to realize that he's way louder than he should be and that him being loud is his first impression in most of the cases, though, or at least i don't remember any moment where it happens (and it's a possibility. then that's on me, i guess.). and yeah, i know what's the reason for it, obviously — he's supposed to be a comic relief character. because wansho's stories are mostly supposed to make you smile, as this is what wansho's aspiration is. however, as much as being intended to make the viewer laugh it wouldn't be, it still is a part of tsukasa's character, and a rather important one on top of that. his constant loudness is something that's definitely not considered normal by the society and could very well fit into this symptom.
and since i promised to elaborate on the mentioned before scene from dazzling chapter 6: when tsukasa talks to himself in class, it always ends up to be loud. and it already happened a few times.
(tl by tsukasa's #3 fan on youtube because i don't have proseka on my phone wah)
if it's not a difficulty keeping quiet, then i don't know what is. bro can scream up to 120dB as measured by robonene for god's sake.
IRRITABILITY/QUICK TEMPER
again, this is something that was more apparent with early game tsukasa, maybe he just got medicated. idk man. but even if it happened three, almost four years ago, it still happened, i don't make the rules. back in the early game, tsukasa was really easily losing his temper and getting annoyed, mad even — i mean, that was the whole point of the main story argument: tsukasa's first response to nene accidentally messing up their show, which was not even her fault, was to shout at her. and while this was obviously very important thing to him and being upset at this is a rather understandable reaction, taking this as far as screaming at a poor girl for not being to face the audience because of her anxiety is not something a person who can control their anger would do.
it could be also easily seen by his reaction to emu and rui's antics back in the early game, which were often stained with irritation.
another example is his hinamatsuri argument with saki, where, despite loving her so much, he still got slightly mad at her for not liking the new dolls he bought her. he started to regret his harsh words and actions soon enough, obviously, but it doesn't change the fact that it was rather easy for him to get him across.
INABILITY TO DEAL WITH STRESS
if i'm not mistaken, tsukasa has once said something along the lines of "is it anxiety? there's no way a star like me would feel anxiety" — but i cannot recall for the love of my life in which story it appeared, so i don't want to take it as a face value when i don't have a solid proof for it.
other than this vague mention of "something that's in the story but i don't remember where", i'll admit, i don't really have anything backing me up for this tbf. i mean, i guess maybe tsukasa doing his best to appear strong as a child to not worry his parents could work? because the stress of saki being in the hospital definitely was also present here, although i just see this more as a coping mechanism for his situation than a reaction to stress, so that's not a solid evidence either.
so, yeah. take this one with a grain of salt, actually.
from the symptoms that weren't listed here, i remember reading something about people with ADHD enjoying to show off more, which is certainly what tsukasa does often — and while it actually applies to me too, it wasn't on an english site so i didn't screenshot it and i cannot really find it anywhere in english... so even though i treat it just like my whole argument for the inability to deal with stress, i thought it's just worth mentioning.
however, there is obviously one more thing...
HYPERFIXATION/SPECIAL INTEREST
obviously, i'm talking about acting here: for tsukasa, acting aligns with all these criterias. it is his deep passion; it is something highly engaging for him; it is sometimes all-consuming for him; he tunes out the world around him when he thinks about how can he possibly improve his acting (see: the dazzling moment i showed earlier. yeah, i like to use it as a backing point a lot, as you can see.); and it is something that is his life-long interest.
is it his special interest or his hyperfixation, though? well, it's hard to tell...? because while according to screen two, spinterest revolves around a topic and hyperfixation revolves around an activity, so it would qualify what tsukasa feels towards acting as a hyperfixation, it's still kinda hard for me to call it so because of its length. yes, screen three clearly says that hyperfixation can last years, but they mostly revolve around shorter periods of time, after all (my longest hyperfixation was just a year long, for example). i think it's up to you to determine whether you'd call tsukasa's love for acting a hyperfixation or a special interest, but it's something from these two most certainly.
i'm also a big fan of the headcanon that tsukasa's other spinterest is kaito ww it's in no way a canon evidence (unfortunately!), but kaito's 1* side story, where tsukasa and emu are watching kaito's show and tsukasa is explaining to her why kaito's wearing a scarf somewhat implies that tsukasa knew a thing or two about kaito before the main story. and i'm all for it. colopale let tsukasa be a kaito fanboy pleaseee.
2. I REALLY LIKE ANALYZING SONGS, IF YOU CAN'T TELL
those who have already read a few of my things probably know what i love to do the most — analyzing songs!! so i wouldn't be myself if i just left tsukasa's commisions without analyzing them under the angle of neurodivergence, especially since the sole reason i became obsessed with the thought of ADHD tsukasa was that one sekahaji line (there's too much noise, so much noise and it keeps getting worse you will always be famous).
of course, remember that only the world hasn't even started yet should be taken as a canon value! producers are often given space to do whatever they want in the lyrics of the songs they are commissioned for, so they're not canonical in any way. i think it's still fun to look at their lyrics and ramble about them for a bit, though. i've already got too carried away anyways.
won't be posting photos of the lyrics since i'd hit the images limit, but you can check them yourself — all the translations i'm taking, as always, from the vocaloid lyrics wiki. (since filament fever has two tls on there, i want to clarify that i've only looked at and considered in my analysis the official english one, because it's, well, official.)
THE WORLD HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET
besides the mentioned earlier there's too much noise, so much noise and it keeps getting worse, which i think of as a representation of overstimulation (since i used to see people asking "oh but why tsukasa has something about there being too much noise in a song made out of his feelings when he's such a loud person himself". because he likes the noise he makes, not the overwhelming, overstimulating noise from the outside!!), sekahaji also has a rather good amount of quotes that could be read as something connected to neurodivergence (based on the fact that it's not supposed to be a song about this topic): the main theme of these are procrastination, which can be seen in let's cross the end of all of this, partying forever and the world hasn't even started yet line itself. the thought of the world not even starting implies that there's still a lot of time left to do something, while "partying forever" can refer to deciding to give up on doing the things you should do and going to drown in something that indulges only you and yourself for the rest of eternity. while procrastination is not counted as an official ADHD symptom, it's a trait that people with the disorder very often have (for reasons obvious).
other lines, which i couldn't entirely fit into a box of a certain symptom, are there's too much conflict, so much conflict and it keeps growing (a parallel line to the noise one, so it means something! right) and let's break the plans for a harmonious future. in my personal interpretation, they both can be viewed as your typical neurodivergent struggle in a neurotypical society — "too much conflict" refering to an internal struggle of not being completely normal, while the "harmonious future" that's going to get broken are just the social norms that are going to be broken because of an off-putting, neurodivergent behavior. something that some neurotypical people dooon't really like.
TONDEMO-WONDERZ
since i've just talked about breaking the social norms, "why?!" and "do it like this!!" aren't like you, huh? line from tondemo-wonderz is going to go first, because it revolves around the same topic. it's the same case: it's about (subconscious, not intentional) fighting what's accepted by the society by just being yourself — because you're neurodivergent, you're different.
from the other lines in tondemo-wonderz, i have only one and it's take an eraser to your memories?!, which is pretty much self explanatory. as always, a mention of forgetting something in tsukasa's commision. who would've thought.
88 SHOOTING STARS
another self explanatory line that i have written down as first: it's okay if you only remember a little part of it sometimes. another mention of tsukasa forgor™, and while it corresponds with what happened in dazzling, it's still a line mentioning forgetfulness — so it's worth mentioning.
aren't we just inevitably going around in circles? and it's okay if you take a rest for a little bit sometimes can be interpreted as another mention of procrastination and while it's not that apparent as it was with sekahaji, because going in circles can refer to something else and taking a rest sometimes is not a bad thing at all, i still wanted to mention them here. for the record.
you ought to slip and fall in panic in the final moment is connected to a symptom that i showed, yet didn't elaborate on it (because i didn't have anything to work with) — making careless mistakes. the same case, yet with another symptom goes with is this not enough yet again? is this not how it's supposed to be? couldn't we go even further than this?, which can be seen as a reflection of unability to listen to instructions. a bit of reaching with this one (like this whole part damn), but as i said earlier: for the record, i'm leaving it here. to show that i had some intense thoughts.
tbf, when i think about it now, maybe the mentioned earlier "why?!" and "do it like this!!" aren't like you [...] could very well fit this symptom too.
MR SHOWTIME
mr showtime you will always be famous, because this is a song that gave me a looot of things to work with. i was so flabbergasted when i read these lyrics for the first time. tsukasa tenma why are you like this. /aff
there are a lot of lines hinting being easily distracted, and these are basically the very first ones, too: you know what? i just can't make up my mind, it's so messed up that i can't put my thoughts together and a merry-go-round (my thought process) goes round and round are all about it. like you cannot deny it this time, if it's not about being unable to stay focused then i really don't know what is [insert the tsukasa don't look away stamp here because i love it and it's my biggest motivation to actually focus whenever i do something]. the more i mess around and waste time, the more i become hungry / and i can't handle it can be seen as about procrastination again, and even not "can be seen", it's literally being frustrated at yourself for wasting time, that's the sole outcome of a procrastination!! being bothered by feeling anxious, meanwhile, is resonating with the inability to deal with stress once again.
also jumping the gun. driving in a zigzag manner can actually connected with the little to no sense of danger. because, as far as i'm aware, driving in a zigzag manner is certainly not a safe activity. don't do it at home.
from the symptoms that i haven't yet mentioned to this point, am i taking a long way? am i making a fruitless effort? can be reflecting difficulty organizing tasks — since the poor planning of your activities can make you take a long way and can make you do a fruitless effort. then, where's the fun in taking shortcuts all the time? can be read along the lines of something coming close to extreme impatience and while a person that's extremely impatient would actually enjoy taking the shortcuts to get closer to their goal or destination, said impatience can be also connected with the desire for something interesting to happen. a task can make you impatient not because it's long, but because it's simply boring — avoiding shortcuts can make it less boring, even if it extends its duration. with this explanation, it makes the unexpectedness (unexpected program) is the best part of the show (my life) perfectly fit into this category, even though i wouldn't call this line a sign of impatience on its own.
i have some issues with i'm pathetic. i can't satisfy myself, because... at first i thought of connecting it with either mood swings or inability to deal with stress, however i'm not sure if that's really it. i'm pretty sure it connects to neurodivergence in some way, but i just can't put my finger on it, so... i'm just leaving it here for the record, once again.
oh, and there's also i got lost in the world (stage) and / the end credits rolled (the curtain fell), which also is pretty much summing up the experience of being neurodivergent in the neurotypical society. in the middle of trying to stay true to yourself and having to mask just to be accepted, it's easy to get lost — and once you do so, there's no going back. the curtain falls.
to end this part of the analysis, i'd show the lyrics from filament fever and sekai wo terasu tetrad here. i won't do this, however, and the reason for it is fairly simple — they don't give me much material to work with and i'm not really surprised, because mr showtime has succesfully sucked all of the neurodivergent coded lyrics into itself. there just won't be another song like mr showtime, i fear.
i can just say that in filament fever there is running away from the flow of time — which got me thinking of either procrastination and unability to stick to time-consuming tasks, with the former being more plausible as a potential interpretation... but that would be it.
3. NAKAYAMA IS A METAPHOR FOR NEURODIVERGENT MASKING AND IT'S THE STUPIDEST THING I'VE EVER SAID BUT YOU HAVE TO HEAR ME OUT ON THIS
listen, i know how it sounds.
i'm not actually a fan of trying to fit every thing a character does into a box of a metaphor, symbol or allegory, i really am not. i think some things should just stay as simple as they are, but this thought has been bothering me ever since i've first seen spoilers of what's happening in a story where you're the star for the very first time. i'm in no way saying it has any canonical meaning, but i just thought it would be fun to include. because maaaybe someone sees my vision.
for those who haven't seen tsukasa4 yet or want to have a recap of what has happened in it: the whole event story revolves around tsukasa trying to grasp his role (as always). wxs got recommended to shunmei-za by shousuke and went there to practice their acting skills, immediately getting thrown onto the preparation for their next performance. tsukasa, however, is not a lead this time — he got the role of a supporting character and has got basically three lines to say on stage total. since tsukasa's used to playing lead roles, he obviously has issues with grasping the role — it's hard to use method acting in regards of a character that says three sentences total and nothing more. with help of bakuno reki, one of the actors in shunmei-za, and the rest of wxs, he manages to create a portrayal of nakayama that would make him "come to life" and "be a protagonist of his own story", something that would make it easier for him to get into role, however...
he gets a little bit too carried away with his acting during the actual performance.
and this is not something that would ruin the whole play, obviously, he's just a supporting character, the less invested audience would probably forgot about his impact on the story after five minutes of his last appearance — but he still made a slip-up. he still resonated with his role, but didn't achieve the utmost perfection. he still did well acting, after all, he managed to receive praise from the director in the end... but it's still a very apparent mistake that was made.
(tl, once again, by the awesome tsukasa's #3 fan)
and that's where the nakayama masking metaphor theory (it's not even a theory but it sounds cooler this way) comes in.
nakayama is supposed to be just a man. from what we know about him, he's in his late twenties and works as an editor — and even though tsukasa makes up a whole backstory for him later on, he's still supposed to be ordinary. nothing special. he's coming nowhere near the other roles that tsukasa has played, he's not on the same level as miles, torpe and rio. and while you could possibly consider torpe and rio as rather ordinary, they still had something interesting to happen to them, the main reason why they were lead roles for their respective plays. in the tsukasa4 play, nakayama has nothing like that. he's literally just a guy, he's normal. and "normal" is a keyword here.
tsukasa did everything he could to fit into nakayama's role. he followed the script, he took the advice from a more talented and professional actor that is bakuno, he didn't do any mistakes during his preparations — and yet he still managed to mess up in the end. why?, besides of the fact that he just let himself become one with nakayama during the performance and it resulted in a supporting character outshining the lead?
if we take as a fact that tsukasa is, in fact, neurodivergent, it would make sense that he's having troubles with playing a normal person — because he's not exactly normal either. and this would very well work out as a metaphor of masking; even when you try your best, even when you mask yourself perfectly, you can still make slip-ups. you can still accidentally drop the act in middle of something that absolutely required it, or, similiar to what tsukasa did, can accidentally overdo it and end up perceived as even more weird than you'd be without masking. something something i got lost in the world and the end credits rolled. rings a bell?
and i'm not saying that tsukasa has a problem with masking, because he doesn't. he tries his best to pass as a normal member of society, but he also makes no effort in actively masking his weirdness (or else he wouldn't be a part of oddball one two). however, if you want to neurodivergent code your character, it would make sense to include a possibility of it in some way, right? especially since wxs stories' already had the theme of dealing with being perceived as weird (eg. rui's whole backstory, obviously). even if it's not affecting tsukasa directly, i think it would be cool to include something that indicates this issue's existence in his story and, in a way, his struggles.
however, as i said earlier, this is a very stupid thought and that's why i left it for the very end. i don't actually think that how tsukasa played nakayama was supposed to be a metaphor for masking, it's just a pure coincidence that it could be interpreted like that when you think about it too much.
aaand with this, we've finally come to an end!! (finally. i'm so exhausted.) i don't have anything more to say about this topic. maybe i'll retweet it with some more evidence in the future if we ever get more ADHDkasa content. for now, it would be all!
is tsukasa actually intentionally written as an ADHDer? Who Knows! there's a possibility that he is, but even if he's not, he's still one in my heart. regardless of the status of his possible neurodivergence, analyzing his behavior in this light was still very fun! and maybe i even converted someone into the ADHDkasa hell.
feel free to add something if you want to, and feel free to correct me if i got some things wrong! i still hope that even though of how messy this whole thing is written, i did tsukasa justice and didn't accidentally say too much nonsense lmao
...i hate ending analyses.
#i spent too much time on this. this is the most important thing i've ever written. if this flops i'm gonna do very bad things to myself.#/JOKE but seriously skdkshd if this does bad i'll be very sad#i'm way too passionate about this headcanon hehehehe#also don't mind the cover photo i just didn't want to put read more when it was still so empty#project sekai#pjsk#prsk#proseka#puroseka#prosekai#colorful stage#tsukasa tenma#tenma tsukasa#wonderlands x showtime#tsukasa wxs#wxs tsukasa#tsukasa pjsk#pjsk tsukasa#tsukasa project sekai#project sekai tsukasa#putting more tags on this one because i'm sorta proud of it#if i actually messed up something very bad you'll never hear from me again#ri says things the tag
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TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 30. 10 things i hate about you
masterlist ⌒☆ previous ⌒☆ next
fun facts:
the term sakusa is looking for is the proximity principle. i had to whip out my psychology notebook for this one.
atsumu bought the groceries! of course he asked y/n beforehand what she wanted to eat and checked in with osamu for tips/recipes/ingredients. y/n surprised him with the snacks :D
shimizu is always making homecooked meals so y/n doesn't cook often. she just strolls down the hall and into shimizu's condo to have dinner together. that's why she went over to borrow certain cookware ++ her lack of cooking skills.
y/n likes buying cute slippers for her place. she's bought everyone a pair so that they'll be comfortable when they're over. the ugly shrek slippers, the ones that look like the grinch and an alien gave birth to him, were from a white elephant exchange. guess who was the one that bought it (extreme difficulty because it could be all four of them)
cooking - atsumu: 1 y/n: 0
baking - atsumu: 0 y/n: -1
gaming - atsumu: 0 y/n: 1!!!
don't underestimate y/n, she's been trained to be good at all sorts of games. she plays with extremely competitive and sly people (kuroo the shameless cheater, shoyo the "i didn't understand the rules!" kenma the "that was a practice round"), so she has to be extra careful.
shimizu is an angel, she doesn't cheat. however, if y/n asks her to form an alliance, there's a 88% chance she'll say yes.
TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 。o♡ an atsumu miya smau
synopsis: when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?
a/n: sorry for the long fun facts i love making up silly scenarios !! this was supposed to be a written chapter but i threw that idea out the window (phew) i was gonna say the two of them were listening to daniel caesar while cooking etc. but his songs are too romantic the tension would've been crazy !!!!
taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it! (those bolded were unable to be tagged)
⌒☆ @kqbukimono @empathum @clyver @chosoluv @oceansfloor @sunarots @marga-j @rukia-uchiha-98 @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ast4rg1rl @seiamor @saiewithakatana @usermins @literally-a-ferret @terrarain @iuspired @haruskatana @wolffmaiden @ris-krispie @vellichxrr6782 @animenaces-world @reignsaway @emii4evr @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @yuminako @tojirin @v3nusplanetofluv @vyvixen @secondary-character-25 @tenjikusstuff4 @444choso @mylahrins @deimmortales99 @hisfuture @staywhelmed8801 @dl-yum @nessaasstuff @milesmoralesluvs @101tsumu @ryeyeyer @cherrypieyourface @azharyy @mimi3lover @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @dazball @whykirbo @r0seandth0rns @localgaytrainwreck @miyamoratsumuu @zephestia @luvvmae
#haikyuu smau series#smaus#social media au#haikyuu smau#haikyuu#hq smau#hq#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x yn#hq x reader#hq x you#hq x yn#haikyuu atsumu miya#atsumu miya#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu miya x you#atsumu miya x yn#atsumu miya smau#actors au#celebrity au#romance
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secret relationship buddie fics
all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)
our love is all we need (to make it through) by: chimneysrebar "buck and eddie decide to hide their relationship from their friends. It goes about as well as you would expect" word count: 3.1k important tags: sleepy cuddles, eddie diaz loves evan buckley, firehouse 118 crew as family, fluff
no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft by: justhockey “i don’t think you need a dad, that’s not how families work, right? like, they all look different,” chris says. “but it’s okay if you want one. there’s nothing wrong with that.” “what’s it like, having two?” denny asks, and buck has to cover his mouth so he doesn’t give himself away. christopher’s laugh is loud, and sweet, and tugs on buck’s heartstrings in the same way that it always has done. he doesn’t even hesitate to say, “it’s fun. i love them.” word count: 4k important tags family fluff, soft eddie diaz, christopher diaz has two dads, firehouse crew as family it's golden, like daylight by: rarakiplin "the sun comes up" word count: 8.7k important tags: getting together, weddings, fluff, first dates when you come home by: 7ate9 "buck was surviving. that was the least he could do. survive with his son, his new position as a probationary firefighter, while his fiance was overseas. it was too painful to talk about. so no one could know." word count: 19k important tags: army!eddie diaz, reunions, firehouse 118 crew as family, engaged!evan buckley/eddie diaz don't tell my husband (he'll kill me) by: coupe_de_foudre all bobby has to say, as buck is hightailing it towards danger, is a low, threatening, “don’t make me call eddie.” and buck will skid to a stop, pause, and eventually turn around and slink back towards the team like a scolded dog with his tail between his legs." word count: 2.6k important tags: army!eddie diaz, hurt/comfort, light angst, married buddie, pov outsider blindspot by ashwinmeird "hen was starting to accept that buck's life would always be a mystery to her and the others. Then the 136 gets a new probie, eddie diaz, and buck doesn't appear to be the guy's biggest fan. but there's something, some secret, hen isn't privy to and she was going to get to the bottom of whatever was happening between buck and eddie." word count: 10k important tags: alternative universe, pov outsider, oblivious, confusion, relationship reveal
give me a sign, i want you next to me by: 42hrb the 118 knows buck has a really cute kid and a partner he loves, they just think that partner is his husbands ex. word count: 7k important tags: army!eddie diaz, different first meeting au, married buddie, evan buckley and shannon diaz friendship, family fluff and the winner is.... by: heartsdalliances "when maddie convinces buck to join her and the rest of the couples of the 118 on a couples game-show with eddie as his partner, he does so hesitantly, if only because he knows that by the end of it -- the rest of the team will realize he and Eddie are way more than best friends." word count: 18k important tags: game show, fluff, angst, 118 team as family
there's a rumor going around (about me and you) by: justhockey “$100 says he’s not taking a girl home tonight,” eddie wagers. all four of them look at him with stunned looks on their faces, as if they can’t possibly believe eddie is being so stupid. eddie shrugs, holds his arms out in a take it or leave it kind of gesture. of course, they all think he’s insane, so -- “deal,” athena says." word count: 3.1k important tags bets and wagers, drinking, clingy!eddie diaz, karaoke, coming out, flirting welcome to the family by: shutupheather "eddie gets hurt on the job. the team meets and comforts his husband in the hospital waiting room." word count: 3.4k important tags: married buddie, alternative universe, hurt!eddie diaz, worried!evan buckley finally found it right here by: justhockey "he just wants to sleep. but then eddie is placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and shaking. - “buck, what did you just say?” - buck huffs out a sigh. “i said maddie is in lab-“ - Oh fuck. word count: 3.4k important tags: coming out, babies, fluff
explicit rated secret relationship fics mature rated secret relationship fics
#will definitely be doing a pt2 for this trope#911 fandom#911 show#911 abc#911 fox#buck x eddie#buck x eddie fic#buddie fic#evan buckley#eddie diaz#buddie fics#ao3feed#ao3 link#ao3#secret relationship#book tropes#evan buck buckley
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Hi! Vod’ika! Could I request Dogma x fem!reader with your mermaid AU?💕
Thousand Years
Summary: You know that Dogma loves you, he’s your soulmate and you're his after all, but you know that you’re not like other soulmates, and you hear the comments his brothers make, though you know that they don’t mean for you to hear them. And sometimes you wonder if he would have chosen you if he had the choice.
Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x F!Reader
Word Count: 2005
Warnings: Angsty but with a happy ending
Prompt: Mermaid AU
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: So, this wasn't supposed to be sad, but I had an idea and decided to run with it. As ever, I want to thank @kimiheartblade @the-bad-batch-baroness @mire-draws-things and @t3mpest98 for helping build this AU.
Adjusting to life as a mermaid was easier than you thought it would be. Honestly, the biggest adjustment for you was having to reteach yourself how to swim with one appendage rather than your legs.
According to the other mates who live around you, none of them had as much of an easy time.
Generally, after that, they’ll toss you an odd, awkward, smile and tell you that you’re just unique and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Funnily enough, it never sounds like a compliment when they say it though. You try not to think about it too much, it’s not like you’re unused to not having friends after all.
And some of the other mates are very…well, calling them shallow would be an insult to puddles. At least you’re polite enough to not tell them that if they were a puddle you could stand in them without getting the soles of your boots wet.
You know if you could wear boots.
You just think it. Loudly.
You’re pulled from your thoughts at the sensation of little hands drumming on your torso, and you cast your gaze on the dark-eyed baby resting on your stomach.
Your dark-eyed baby.
Little Faith has the good fortune to look like her father, though it’s starting to look like she has your personality. Dogma claims it’s because you take her everywhere, you point out that a strong parent-child bond is important for a baby's development.
Luckily, he doesn’t disagree. And he’s just as guilty as carting baby Faith around rather than leaving her in the care of the nanny shark, so it’s not like he has a fin to swim with.
You smile brightly as Faith blows bubbles at you, and you reach out to lightly tap her little nose. Her brow furrows as she tries to watch your finger, and then she releases a happy gurgling noise.
In truth, you should be home, at the grotto. But Faith likes looking at the coral, and watching the clown fish, so here you are, resting on your back on a rock while the fish swim around the pair of you.
You’re close enough to the mervillage that you can still see the arch that leads to the shopping district, and you can even hear some of Dogma’s brothers if you strain your ears.
Faith lets out a happy shout as a clownfish gets close enough to her to bump into her, and you smile fondly at your baby.
She’s something of a miracle, your baby. It normally takes time for a mate to get pregnant, but you wound up pregnant within two weeks of solidifying the bond with Dogma. And the fact that you have a daughter rather than a son? Even more of a miracle.
Natural-born daughters are rare after all.
Faith twists so she’s able to watch the fish a little better, and you allow your attention to wander. Your hands are secure around her waist, so she’s in no danger of getting hurt, after all.
And that’s when the whispers reach your ears.
“—Dogma’s mate? Her?”
“Yeah, that’s her.” As much as you don’t want to listen in, now that you know that they’re talking about you, you can’t not listen to them.
“I feel bad for Dogma,” The first man says with a laugh that sounds cruel to your ears, “I bet, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t have chosen someone like her.”
You keep yourself from flinching through sheer willpower, though there’s no stopping the hurt that blooms in your chest. Because he’s right. Dogma wouldn’t have chosen you.
You’d choose Dogma in every lifetime, but he’d never choose you if given the choice.
“Come on, he loves her.”
“Because of the bond. And I guess she’s pretty enough, but there’s no way that her looks make up for her personality.” The first man replies, “Anyway, someone as steady as Dogma deserves better than her.”
“Yeah, well. The magic makes that choice, not us. So drop it before she hears us.”
Your gaze flickers to the side as the two men stop talking and swim away.
You feel…heavy. And it has nothing to do with the baby sitting on your stomach.
Faith smacks her hands against you again, and you smile weakly at her, “Want to go on an adventure, Faithy?”
Your baby doesn’t, fully, understand what you’re saying to her. Not really, she’s too young, but she does know her name and she knows your voice, so she bubbles happily.
Some of the weight lifts at the sheer delight your baby shows you when she sees you, and you carefully cradle her in your arms as you kick off the rock and head up.
Your heart hurts and you feel sad. And lonely.
The only person who can make you feel better is your mom. And, as luck would have it, after you became a merperson your parents sold their home to buy a houseboat, so they could stay close to you.
You swim towards the surface, moving carefully to make sure that your baby doesn’t get hurt. It’s hardly the first time your baby has been to the surface, though you know it’s just another reason that people think that Dogma shouldn’t leave Faith alone with you.
Your argument has always been that your parents deserve to know their grandchild. Dogma doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it when you go to the surface either, but he wants you happy more than anything.
Your parents' houseboat is named after you. They love you and have always been your biggest supporters, even when you told them that you were going to become a mermaid.
They, at least, look delighted to see you and Faith as you pop up next to their home.
You hand Faith to your mother, who sets her in a baby pool they have for this very reason, and she lightly places a sun hat on the baby’s head, while you’re father helps you out of the water and then helps you into the, slightly bigger, pool they have for you.
Your parents know you better than anyone, save for Dogma, so your mother takes one look at you, clicks her tongue, and sits in the pool next to you. She wraps her arms around you and pulls your head to her shoulder to stroke your hair.
And that’s all it takes for you to dissolve into tears as the whole story falls from your lips.
“Oh, my little coral,” Your mom says softly, “Why does it seem like your life is always so much harder than the people around you?” She smooths some of your hair off your face, “You can stay as long as you want. You and Faith.”
“Do you agree with them?” You ask as you press the top of your head against your mother’s neck, “That Dogma deserves better than me?”
“Never.” Your father’s answer is immediate, from where he’s sitting next to Faith and feeding her some mashed apples. “Never, sweetheart. Your man is lucky to have you.”
“You have to say that, you’re my parents.”
“Nonsense. We say it because it’s true.” Your mom kisses your forehead, “You and Faithy will stay for a bit, of course.”
You sniffle, “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
Your mom tightens her grip around you and cuddles you as best as she can as your father starts telling a story about your uncle, giving you an update on the rest of your family. And some more of the weight fades from your heart.
It’s later, when the sun is starting to set, that Dogma emerges from the water next to the houseboat. He easily pulls himself up on the deck, and a relieved smile crosses his face when he sees you sitting in a pool with Faith at your side.
“Cyare,”
You turn to look at him, and a weak smile crosses your face. “Dogma,”
“I figured I’d find you here when you weren’t at the grotto. Where are your parents?” He asks as he moves over to the pool and smiles at Faith.
“Inside, they’re getting ready for bed.” You reply as you carefully don’t look at him, you know your eyes are still red, and you don’t want him to worry.
“You didn’t mention that you were coming to see your parents today,” He says lightly, there’s no heat in his words but you curl in on yourself as if he just shouted at you.
“Sorry.”
Dogma is silent for a moment before he reaches out and lightly turns your face towards him, “Riduur, I’m not upset at you. Why are you acting as if I am?” His breath catches when he turns you to face him fully, and slowly he brings his other hand up to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing the skin under your eyes, “You’ve been crying.”
“It’s…not important.”
“It’s very important.” He corrects, “Someone made you cry. Upset you badly enough that you fled to your parents.”
You shrug, “It’s dumb.”
“You are many things, Riduur. Dumb isn’t one of them.” Dogma corrects. He carefully leans in so his forehead is pressed against yours, “Tell me?”
“Someone said something that I know is true and it made me feel…bad. So I came to someplace where I never feel bad.”
“What did they say?”
You don’t answer, don’t want to answer. But his gaze is so earnest, and his hands are so gentle, that your lower lip starts trembling again, “The truth.”
“I highly doubt that, riduur.” His voice is so gentle, that it's easy to forget that he didn’t choose you.
“They said that if you had the choice in picking a mate, that you wouldn’t have looked twice at me.” You reply quietly, “And I know that it’s true.” Your lips twist as you try to keep yourself from crying, “If I lived five different lifetimes, I would choose you in all of them. And you—”
“Would pick you.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
Dogma sighs, his breath warm against your face, “I love you, riduur. And don’t even think of trying to say that it’s because the magic chose you for me.” He says quietly, “The magic chose you to be my soul mate, and I chose to love you.”
“But—”
“There are plenty of platonic soulmates, riduur. And I chose to love you. From the beginning, I chose to love you.” He smooths his thumbs across your cheeks, “You doubt that?”
You close your eyes and lean into his touch, “I know I’m not, really, your type—”
“Whoever made you think that is going to get introduced to my fist,” Dogma interrupts, “I don’t want anyone else. You’re perfect for me. And I’m sorry if I made you believe differently.”
You shake your head, “Not your fault.”
“It is my fault. I should have put an end to those comments, but I didn’t think that they bothered you.” Dogma lightly brushes his lips against yours, “I love you. Always. Forever. In this life and every other.”
You sigh softly, though it’s not an unhappy sigh, “I love you too.”
He chuckles, “Oh, I’ve never doubted that.” Dogma drops one of his hands to scoop Faith against his chest, “Now, are we spending the night?”
You shake your head, “Mom and Dad have to head back to shore early. Better we should leave.”
“Then I’ll leave a note.” Dogma leans in and kisses you one more time, “I love you, Riduur.” He murmurs against your lips, “Despite what everyone else thinks.”
You smile at him, believing his words for the first time today. “I know, I’m sorry for doubting you.”
He smiles, reassuringly, and kisses your cheek, before he drops a kiss to Faith’s head, “Come on, Riduur, let’s go home. I’m going to rip my brothers a new one for making you cry.”
At that, you laugh. And, finally, the last of the weight weighing your heart down fades away, as you’re once again secure in Dogma’s feelings towards you.
#star wars#tcw#star wars au#vodika-vibes 650 event#clone trooper dogma x reader#dogma x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#f!reader fic#answered asks#mermaid au
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Leap of Faith
Request: Yes / No
Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night
Spencer Ried x Fem!Reader
Word count: 727
Warnings: Mentions of Maeve’s death
Y/N: Your Name
A/N: I'm thinking of doing a part 2, let me know if you guys would want one
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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)
*Spencer’s POV*
The bullpen was quieter than usual, the hum of computers and soft murmurs of conversations filled the void. I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the file in front of me. My mind was elsewhere… on her. The way she smiled when she solved a puzzle, the way she listened with unwavering focus, and the way her laugh made my chest feel lighter, even on the heaviest of days.
It wasn’t supposed to happen. Not after Maeve. I closed that part of myself off and locked it away to protect what was left. Yet here I was, feeling things I promised myself I never would again.
Morgan dropped into the chair beside me, his sharp eyes noticing the faraway look on my face.
“What’s going on with you, Pretty Boy? You’ve been staring at that file for ten minutes, and I know your brain worlds faster than that.” I blinked, startled out of my thoughts. I hesitated, glancing around to ensure no one else was listening.
“Nothing.” I said quickly, too quickly. Morgan raised a brow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
“Come on, man, don’t insult me. I’ve known you too long for that. What’s really going on?” I sighed, leaning back in my chair and rubbing a hand over my face.
“I think I’m in trouble.” I admitted softly.
“Trouble? Like BAU-level trouble or… woman trouble?” He asked, his grin widening. I groaned.
“It’s not funny, Derek.”
“Alright, alright.” Morgan said, holding up his hands.
“Talk to me, who’s got you all tied up in knots?” For a moment, I didn’t answer, but then I glanced toward the desk a few rows away. She wasn’t there right now, probably in Garcia’s office or getting coffee, but just thinking about her made my chest tighten. Morgan followed my gaze and his eyebrows shot up.
“Oh, now I get it.” I looked away, my face flushing.
“It’s not like that…” I mumbled, even though it absolutely was.
“Reid…” Morgan said, his tone softening.
“Why is this a bad thing? Y/N’s great. You like her, she obviously likes you-”
“She doesn’t.” I interrupted quickly.
“And even if she did, it doesn’t matter.” Morgan frowned.
“Why doesn’t it matter?” I hesitated, my hands fidgeting with the edge of the file.
“I don’t want to love her…” I finally said, my voice low and filled with pain.
“I don’t like what that means for me.” He leaned forward, his gaze steady and understanding.
“What do you think it means?”
“It means I have something to lose again…” I said, my voice cracking slightly.
“...and I’m not strong enough for that anymore.” Morgan nodded slowly, letting the words hand in the air for a moment.
“I get it, I really do. After what happened with Maeve, it makes sense that you’d feel this way. But Reid, you’re stronger than you think. You’ve been through hell and back, and you’re still standing. That’s not weakness, man. That’s strength.” I shook my head.
“It doesn’t feel like strength. It feels like…like I’m setting myself up for more pain.”
“Or…” He countered.
“...you’re setting yourself up for something amazing. Look, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. Love never is, but you can’t let fear stop you from living your life. Maeve wouldn’t want that for you, and deep down, you don’t want that for yourself either.” I looked down at my hands, mind racing. I wanted to believe Morgan was right, but the fear still loomed large, casting a shadow over everything.
“You’ve already survived the worst kind of loss, Reid.” Morgan said gently.
“You know how strong you are because you’ve been there. Don’t let that fear keep you from the good stuff. She’s not Maeve and this isn’t the past. Give yourself permission to try.” I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. I thought about her smile and the way she lit up a room without even trying. Maybe Morgan was right. Maybe it was time to stop letting fear dictate my life.
“Thanks, Morgan.” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. He grinned, clapping me on the shoulder.
“That’s what I’m here for, Pretty Boy. Now go get her.” I couldn’t help but smile, a small flicker of hope igniting in my chest. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to take a leap.
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