#this was such a fun piece by the way i kept adding detail for like hours and it was so worth every second i love her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reiderwriter · 7 months ago

Text

🧺 Any More 🧺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.

A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years.

You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even.

But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again.

Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces.

You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree.

“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.”

What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work.

You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man.

You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him.

He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition.

You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in.

Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later.

You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case.

“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest.

“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.”

Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included.

“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms.

He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach.

“What are you doing here?”

“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.”

You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups.

“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands.

“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following.

“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-”

“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.”

You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed.

“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?”

“Uncomfortable.”

“Or at your breakfast bar?”

“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.”

He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well.

In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep.

Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave.

Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you.

As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard.

Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you.

The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer.

The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most.

When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon.

“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist.

“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together.

“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer.

“Spencer, its 2pm.”

“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you.

“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.”

He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre.

“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.”

“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled.

You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet.

“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own.

100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong.

After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair.

“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that.

As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you.

“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.”

“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.”

“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.”

“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him.

He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen.

“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb.

“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself.

“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-”

“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.”

“Laundry?”

“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.”

He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space.

“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?”

“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.”

He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face.

“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.”

“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?”

“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.”

Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors.

You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description.

It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives.

The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second.

You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you.

“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?”

You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support.

“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side.

“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears.

“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?”

“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest.

“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him.

You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile.

The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment.

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.

“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did.

“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly.

“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-”

“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch.

“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.”

You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes.

“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-”

“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.”

He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet.

When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back.

“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out.

“And then these last 100 days they've just been��difficult.”

“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you.

“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.”

You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways.

“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?”

“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-”

“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-”

Your voice cracked again.

“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for.

“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness.

“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years.

“I love you, too, Spencer, but-”

“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….”

He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time.

“And you deserve a break.”

“W-When we take breaks, people die.”

“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?”

You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess.

“You all had reasons, I-”

“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.”

For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back.

So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream.

But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating.

His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there.

“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin.

When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you.

“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence.

A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly.

“To me, you are perfect.”

His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him.

“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.”

“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful.

His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever.

“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.”

His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.

His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him.

“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you.

“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another.

“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words.

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.

“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head.

“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing.

Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.

The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you.

“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours.

He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again.

You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead.

You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you.

You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.

2K notes · View notes

takes1 · 22 days ago

Note

asahi x reader nsfw

mutual masturbation or riding/gridning or first time

asahi x reader grinding

my god i fckng love asahi !!! UUUGHHH he's so!! perfect. i will NEVER pass an asahi request, NEVER

warnings. nsfw, minors DNI

details. mutual pining! / skipped!talking phase / mutual lust! / asahi has a crush on you / forced proximity / asahi is hung / lap sitting / beach setting / implied mutual virginity / flirting? / suggestive touching / asahi is a very soft top / 2.9k words / reply to be added to part 2 tomorrow :)

links. masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN. part two here.

"You sure you're okay back there, (Y/n)?" Asahi called to you from the front seat.

Nishinoya's negligent driving up towards the hotel was nothing short of dangerous, especially with no seatbelt, but you had a good amount of things to hold onto.

"Yeah!"

What was that thing about guys using your name more often when they like you? Was that true? You pulled out your phone with the intention of looking it up.

The golf cart hit a big stone in the trail and you quickly stored your it back to the safety of your pocket.

It could wait for tonight, when you were getting off in your empty hotel room to cropped team pictures and the day's memories of him all sweaty and covered in sand-- and much more likely to believe the delusional assertion that he wanted you back.

It was a decent drive to the porte-cochère* where your objective sat.

You were happy to discover that the red cooler you were all after was 1) where Tanaka left it, 2) still in the shade, and 3) that there was still a fair amount of ice in it so the team could have their drinks cold.

The stifling heat of the day served as a brutal reminder that this little beach trip -courtesy of Coach Ukai's elbow rubbing with some sponsors- was for practice and training, not mindless fun or goofing off. Karasuno, unsurprisingly, had been balancing both quite well in spite of the heat.

When the team realized they left the cooler back up the winding, gravel trail towards the hotel, your little group formed only because you knew exactly where it was, Nishinoya was frightfully obsessed with wanting to drive a golf cart, and Coach Ukai voluntold Asahi to go because he would be needed for 'extra muscle.'

You looked back towards the front of the vehicle, scanning the width of his tan shoulders under his tank. The cart pulled up onto some smooth concrete at last and you tore your eyes away.

Despite your gratefulness for his presence, you thought that last part was silly. The thing would be heavy enough with ice and water to keep the whole team hydrated until lunch- but with two people and a dash of determination you had no doubt you could get it up.

Just as you and Nishinoya climbed out, Asahi was already grabbing both ends and hauling the giant thing up by himself.

His biceps firmed, bulged and swelled under the tension- he was all shiny with sunscreen and sweat. The image went straight to the vault. You kept your entranced expression under your hand and shuffled out of the way when he carefully placed the heavy thing across the backseat. The cart sagged so far under the weight, you thought the rear bumper might actually scrape the ground.

There was nothing to be done though, since that was the only space for it.

"Show off!" Nishinoya laughed. Even he had to get a piece of that- he grabbed his buddy's meaty arm, then punched it playfully.

You pretended not to look. But in the process, your downcast eyes found there was no room for all of you to ride back.

"There aren't enough seats," You said quietly.

Nishinoya bit the inside of his cheek, eyes scanning the structure of the cart for a quick few seconds. He was playing people-tetris in his head for a good minute, patting the cooler like that might shrink it.

"You can sit on my lap!" He grinned at you.

You froze at the suggestion- thankfully Asahi was quicker on the uptake.

"Yuu, you're driving. You wouldn't be able to see."

"Oh, yeah..." He tapped on the cooler for a second, keys swinging on his finger, "Well, just sit on Asahi's lap!"

There was no hiding the reaction. It was almost like getting slapped, the way you anticipated the proposition. Asahi watched it all happen on your face, but looked away when you glanced up at him.

He put an oversized hand to the back of his burning neck with a gentle, nervous smile, "Only if you're okay with it."

And there you were, climbing into the cart over him while Nishinoya secured the cooler with two crisscrossed bungee cords in the back. It was just that damn simple, when it was all said and done.

He was warm and gentle. His thighs were strong and far more comfortable than the hard plastic backseat you rode in on the way here.

You sat on him at a bit of an angle at first, so it was less awkward, but that didn't seem to work.

A noise of surprise forced itself from you when he shifted and grabbed your waist. It forced your whole body to swing in one big motion. Your hands flew to the roof stabilize yourself.

"Sorry-! Sorry," He mumbled, a little distracted, avoiding your gaze as he made himself more comfortable.

"Am I too heavy?" Was a sigh that just flew out of your mouth. That was a little much, and probably not the case at all, but you were so glad you asked when he looked at you like you were insane.

His laugh was almost enough to distract you from his arms pulling your full weight onto his lap. His casual strength was so hot.

"Of course not."

Your throat closed up, skin tingly under his touch, as you struggled to find how to orient your legs.

Nishinoya was climbing into the driver's seat, flipping through keys.

"Is- this- okay? Can I put my hands-," He set his palm back down lighter, lower on your thigh, but kept one forearm tight like a bar around your hips, "Here?"

A thumb prodding against your hip bone, right at the hem of your shorts, made you realize how big his fingers really were.

"Yeah! Yeah, that's totally f-ine," Your voice cracked so hard that it caused a full body flinch.

He didn't notice thanks to the volume of the engine starting up.

A careful, slow, "Cool."

Sat with your spine stock-straight, cautious not to touch him more than you had to, your head was nearly hitting the roof at every bump in the road. And the road was made of bumps.

Asahi could only take watching you struggle with your neck bent for so long.

He leaned forward, chest pressed against your back, and muttered so Nishinoya couldn't hear, "You don't have to sit like that, if it's uncomfortable."

You grimaced at the chills it sent down your spine and managed to somehow silence your yelp.

There was no way you could speak coherently enough to argue, so you let yourself lean against him.

"That better?" He wouldn't stop trying to talk to you. It was like he thought it would make this less of a thing.

But every time he spoke you could feel it resonate, low and gravelly, through your whole body.

You said, "Yeah," But no sound came out. You heard him grin.

"Yuu, you missed the turn-," Asahi informed, calm and a little distracted.

"Shit!"

Instead of stopping, reversing, and safely going back the other way, he decided to cut the wheel at full speed.

There was no time to digest the situation, or say anything, especially not over Nishinoya's delighted scream: "SKRRRRR!!!"

Asahi braced hard enough for the both of you, one hand on the roof, one still forcing you into his lap, until the passenger side of the cart slammed back down hard onto the gravel, and you were travelling in the correct direction again.

Neither of you said anything over Nishinoya's giddy laughter for a good minute.

"I'm gonna kill you tonight, Noya- I really am," You swallowed your fear back down and shuddered.

Asahi felt your whole body freeze, your hands trembling against the safety of his burly arms. It was a lot of things all at once and despite his best efforts, he wasn't helping you calm back down.

"No need for all that," He laughed a little at your deadpan admission, brushing right along the side of your neck, his fingers squeezing a little into your flesh, "I got ya."

Your tummy was right back to turning, swirling, with an angry swarm of butterflies.

You felt like if you opened your mouth, even a little bit, even to just agree, you might confess all of your dirty thoughts here and now.

You couldn't have been more grateful to be wearing shorts. Or else you would've been dripping all over him. The thought alone made your legs flex uncontrollably, and you could've sworn you felt him give a sigh against the back of your head.

After all the rocking around, he had to adjust again. You were brimming, hardly able to keep it together, as he pulled you back onto what you could tell now was his hard-on. The final blow was when he fixed your legs back open, one firm and heavy, further towards your inner thigh this time.

Fuck, he didn't sigh- he groaned. It was just so quiet it sounded like a sigh.

Morbid curiosity got the best of you. You turned your head real slow to look at him. You found a cloudy, near pornographic focus in his eyes, souring your body from over your shoulder.

It was a step under a jumpscare. It sucked the courage right out of you. Thank god he was holding onto you so tight, because you were about as firm as a cup of Jell-O after that.

You stared forward at the road, heartbeat racking through you like a drum. You weren't sure if you could meet his gaze ever again.

"EEERRRRRRRRR!!!!"

Nishinoya had to vocalize his foot slamming against the brake. It was not needed; the screech of those poor rental tires was loud enough.

When the cart finally lurched to a stop next to the sand, and all the safety of so much noise was gone, Asahi cleared his throat. It was a queue to get up, really, but you didn't want to stand.

In fact, you didn't think you could. Not only was Nishinoya's driving that nauseating, but the tension in your stomach made it feel like you'd break in half if you moved off of him.

But, of course, Tanaka's shameless wolf whistle shocked the both of you straight upright. Asahi slid his hands off with one last-ditch squeeze at your hips.

You stumbled out, knees shaky enough to invite help from the rest of the team, whom were already anxiously waiting for the arrival of the refreshments. Your knuckles were white gripping on the side of the cart.

"Woah- You okay?"

Hinata reached out to help you but you flinched away. A slew of 'yeah's left your mouth, uncool and unsubtle in every way.

You shivered at the wind. "I just- I get carsick?"

He snorted at the odd way you spoke, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," You muttered, lame and defeated.

In the wake of your metaphorical blue balls, the beach was the worst place to sober up. You weren't into anyone else, but skin was still skin. There wasn't an ugly person on the team. Everybody was shiny with sunscreen and it smelled like sweat at every turn. You felt like a degenerate.

"Noya shouldn't be allowed to drive. Let alone a top-heavy vehicle..." Asahi grimaced, his rumbly voice once again no aid to you.

He also struggled to get out of the cart and stand upright on the sand, already surrounded with guys trying to access cooler.

Hinata blocked the view and enthusiastically filled you in on how difficult it was to jump in sand, how he planned on getting over it, and everything else you missed while you were gone.

Your sensitive ears couldn't help but pick up Daichi's voice, giggly, asking Asahi if he needed a minute before the practice game, and Suga, laughing and telling him to 'get that shit under control.'

You went to check your phone for the time to subtly tell Hinata to stop talking and see how much practice time had gotten cut into with this little endeavor.

But when you felt for it, nothing was there.

Dread washed through you. You stood stock-still. You told Hinata to 'Hold on' and checked the back of the cart, where you last had it, and found nothing.

The team was already heading down the big sandy hill to continue their game, sharing the hefty load of the cooler.

"You good?" Nishinoya asked just before he was about to leave.

There was a minute drop in his voice, like he was insinuating something, but you answered quickly and honestly.

"No, I- I think I left my phone up there."

His suggestive facade faded fast, "Oh, shit, uhh-,"

He jogged to the side of the cart and began searching. Sure, he messed around a lot, but he was a great friend. You followed suit after making sure it was in none of your pockets again.

He was flipping up cushions and crawling around on the floorboard before a voice behind you made you jump.

"Didja lose the keys, or something?" Asahi asked him. He was staring at you, though, until you returned it. Only then did he watch his friend.

Nishinoya held the keys up and jiggled them in a 'Fuck you, I'm not that irresponsible' manner.

"(Y/n) left her phone somewhere."

Your face was a little warm at how stupid it sounded when it was coming from somebody else. You weren't usually forgetful, especially over something like your phone. Asahi's presence must've clouded some critical thinking skills for just long enough to misplace it.

"It's probably up where we found the cooler," Asahi suggested when there was clearly no phone in the golf cart, "I can drive us up there, no big deal."

You rubbed some stress out of your face and groaned at how ridiculous this all was. Leaving this, leaving that.

"And what if it's not?" You muttered, mostly to yourself. You started spiraling at the idea of never finding it again, arms crossed as you stared with contempt at the musty little golf cart.

Asahi placed his hand over your head, onto the roof. The cart gave hard on one side under his weight. He spoke closer to your ear as he leaned down to toss a water bottle into the seat, "Let's not worry about that, yet."

It was enough to convince you not to argue, at least. You were torn between thinking about all his signals and the obvious problem at hand.

The drive there was very quiet.

Nishinoya decided to stay back because he wanted to play a game pretty badly, and finding a phone didn't take three people.

Asahi didn't try to pry when he saw how upset you were. The only thing he said to you was to drink some water because it was so hot.

You couldn't just pay for a new one. Your parents would be pissed. It was hard enough justifying this trip when you weren't on the team, anyway. If you lost your phone, or if it was broken because Nishinoya decided he wanted to Tokyo Drift a fucking golf cart over it? Your life was over.

What if you had to quit the club and get a job? You would never have the excuse to talk to Asahi again.

When you finally made it back to the hotel, you jumped out before he could even roll to a stop in order to start searching.

He took his time parking it while you retraced the very few steps you had taken earlier.

You were so desperate that you started searching where you knew for a fact you had never been, before. The ignition switched off from a distance, and tears were starting to prick your eyes.

"I've got it," He called.

You jumped right up.

"Thank god! Where did you find it?" You sprinted to him and swiped it from his hand, a mixture of relief and excitement taking over your movements. After checking its condition to make sure it was okay, you spared a glance up to him, a big grin across your face.

It fell just a bit when you found a kind of... reservation all over him, one that seemed out of place for such good news shared between friends.

He was different. He didn't share in your celebration at all.

"My pocket."

It didn't hit you right away. You laughed, somehow convinced that it had gotten there in an honest mix-up, but searched his face when he didn't laugh, too.

"Uhh," You put it back in your shorts, frankly unable to figure him out, and joked to clear the air a little, "You- you didn't feel it in your pocket earlier?"

The thought that it was intentional was so out of left field that when you briefly considered it, you shook it off right away. There was no motivation for him to take it. Maybe Nishinoya would, or Suga trying to be friendly or funny. Asahi didn't play jokes or tease like that.

"I did," He said, quiet. He was looking to the side, watching the ocean from here.

It was far. The beach, the net, were all far away. You realized he had parked the cart so that it wouldn't be in the way if somebody was checking in.

The puzzle pieces were clicking together, one by one, just before he said the final clue for you, "I told Daichi don't wait up for us."

Shit- he got you alone on purpose.

♕VIP♕

@integers @yuchacco

*reply to be added to the taglist *part two will be out TOMORROW- i had to split this because of ungodly word count

(i learned this word today woo!) *porte-cochère: a covered entrance large enough for vehicles to pass through, typically opening into a courtyard.

my masterlist. requests open.

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focusonkayjay · 1 month ago

Text

Wildly Wealthy Koreans (2); inspired by Crazy Rich Asians

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: photographer/ filmmaker! jungkook, rich girl/ fashion designer! reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, potential smut

Series summary: When you invite your boyfriend, Jungkook, to accompany you to your brother's wedding in your hometown, Daegu, he’s overjoyed, eager to meet your family and experience a side of your life you’ve never shared with him. However, once he uncovers the truth about who you really are, he’s unable to grasp the full extent of your reality. The situation becomes even more complicated when a certain someone makes him feel profoundly unwelcome, leaving him to question not only your world, but also his place in it.

Disclaimer: This series is heavily inspired by the movie Crazy Rich Asians, with the storyline closely following the original film's plot. However, I wanted to reimagine it as a fanfiction, where Jungkook and OC take center stage as the main protagonists. While I’ve kept the core elements and themes from the movie, I’ve added my own touches here and there, such as altering certain character dynamics and incorporating a few original settings. Some scenes are directly inspired by the movie, and I’ve worked to recreate them in a way that it hopefully resonates with the fans of the movie. Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 6.6k+

Chapter Warnings: talks about culture, your mom is a meanie

A/N: literally fighting the urge to rewatch crazy rich asians right now omg. anyways, i'm having so much fun writing this because i love explaining every little thing in detail, and this series gives me so many opportunities to do so. let me know your thoughts <3

part 2

“I can’t believe this.” Jungkook breathes out, sinking into the plush comfort of Yoongi’s ridiculously soft mattress. He runs a hand through his hair, his mind racing as he tries to process everything he had found out during the eventful lunch he just had with Yoongi's family.

It feels like the ground beneath him has shifted. You’re not exactly who he thought you were. Not that he had preconceived notions about your life, but this? This was on an entirely different level. “I wonder why she never told me.” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

Yoongi chuckles from across the room as he pulls back the heavy, luxurious curtains, flooding the space with the warm afternoon light. His bedroom is just as opulent as the rest of the mansion... floor-to-ceiling windows, sleek modern furniture, and an aesthetic that screams understated wealth.

“I mean… maybe she didn’t want to show off.” Yoongi suggests casually, as if being from an ultra-rich family is something people hide every day. “Yeah… like you.” Jungkook points out, sitting up and gesturing around the room.

His eyes narrow as they take in every detail. “You never told me you were this...” he pauses, glancing pointedly at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the antique show piece on the side table, and the impossibly soft bedding beneath him “...rich.”

Yoongi smirks as he leans against the window frame, arms crossed. “What can I say? I’m humble like that.”

Jungkook groans, leaning back on the mattress as he throws an arm over his face. “My whole life is a lie. You’re telling me I’ve been surrounded by literal multimillionaires this whole time and I didn’t have a single clue?” His voice is half-frustrated, half-bewildered, and the wide-eyed expression on his face makes Yoongi snort with laughter.

“Come on, you’re being dramatic.” Yoongi teases, his tone light but with a knowing smirk. It’s almost laughable coming from him... the same guy who was practically losing his mind over you back in the dining room. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” he adds casually, as if he hadn’t been the one freaking out just moments ago.

“Not that big of a deal?” Jungkook echoes, sitting up with an incredulous look. “You live in a mansion. You drive a car that costs more than my entire apartment building. And now I find out my girlfriend is a part of one of the most powerful families in the country?” He shakes his head, rubbing his temples. “You’re right. Totally normal. Nothing to see here.”

Yoongi grins, clearly entertained by his friend’s over-the-top reaction. “You’re handling this surprisingly well.” he jokes. Jungkook shoots him a look. “I’m on the verge of an existential crisis, and you’re laughing at me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Yoongi says with a shrug, making Jungkook groan again.

“And now I can’t stop thinking about that damn tea party ceremony thing I have to go to, this evening.” Jungkook sighs, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

His fingers thread through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know what to expect after everything I’ve learned today.” He breathes out heavily, as though the weight of the world is pressing down on his shoulders.

“Don’t stress it.” Yoongi replies, his tone infuriatingly nonchalant as he leans back in his chair. He looks completely at ease, like Jungkook hadn’t just had his world turned upside down in the span of a few minutes.

Jungkook stares at him, exasperated. “How can I not? I don’t know if I’ll even be able to fit in. Everyone there will probably take one look at me and smell the filth on me. They’ll know right away that I’m a completely different breed compared to them.” he huffs, gesturing dramatically to make his point.

Yoongi stifles a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Jungkook counters, his tone sharp. “I’m just some regular guy. I grew up in a tiny apartment with my mom, eating instant ramen and working part-time jobs to get by. These people... your people... live in literal mansions and probably eat gold-flaked caviar for breakfast or something.” he rambles.

Yoongi finally bursts out laughing, the sound making Jungkook scowl even more. “Gold-flaked caviar? That’s a bit too much, even for us.” Yoongi teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “But seriously, You’re overthinking it.”

Jungkook shakes his head, his insecurities bubbling to the surface. “You don’t get it. I’m not like them. I don’t know the rules, or how to act, or what to say or how... how to dress. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” he says, covering his face as the stress surges through his veins.

"Well, since you brought it up... do you have an outfit for the evening?" Yoongi questions. Jungkook shrugs, a bit unsure. “Well, I have this simple suit. It’s... it's this black-”

“No way.” Yoongi interrupts, shaking his head in disbelief. “There’s no way you’re wearing a simple black suit to this thing.”

Jungkook blinks, taken aback. “What’s wrong with a simple black suit?” he asks, genuinely perplexed.

Yoongi clicks his tongue like a disappointed teacher, standing up from his seat. “This won’t do. Follow me.” he says briskly, already turning on his heels. Jungkook barely has time to react before Yoongi is leading him down the hall and into what can only be described as a dream closet.

The room is enormous, with racks of clothing neatly arranged by color and style. Spotlights illuminate the array of designer outfits, from tailored suits to silk shirts and everything in between.

Shelves line the walls, displaying polished leather shoes, neatly folded ties, and an impressive collection of watches. A faint, luxurious scent lingers in the air, and Jungkook can’t help but gape at the sheer extravagance of it all.

“Okay, let’s see.” Yoongi mutters, his sharp eyes scanning the racks like a man on a mission. He pulls out a prussian blue short coat with clean, sharp lines and a tailored fit. The material has a subtle texture that exudes luxury without being flashy. “This is so so sleek and I think this should be perfect for tonight.” he muses.

“Blue?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “You think that’s the move?”

Yoongi smirks. “I don't think... I know it is.” He sets the coat aside and grabs a light blue silky dress shirt, its soft sheen adding just the right amount of elegance. “This will add a little softness. Plus, it’s classy as hell.” he explains.

Before Jungkook can protest, Yoongi moves to another section, pulling out matching prussian blue trousers. “These match the coat...” he softly says, more to himself.

Yoongi then crouches down to the shoe shelf, grabbing a pair of sleek black loafers “And these... for your feet.” He stands back up and makes his way to the display of accessories.

“We’ll keep it simple...” he murmurs, looking around and a few seconds later, he picks out a delicate diamond brooch shaped like a flower. “This is gonna add just the right amount of sophistication without being too much.” he smiles, proud of himself for the fashion choices he's making.

“Try it on.” Yoongi orders, shoving the outfit into Jungkook’s arms.

Jungkook hesitates, still overwhelmed by how much thought Yoongi has put into this. “Isn’t this… a bit too much for a tea... party?”

“Not for this one.” Yoongi says matter-of-factly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Trust me, this is how you blend in while still making a statement.. you're gonna thank me for this.”

A few minutes later, Jungkook emerges from the dressing area, and Yoongi’s face lights up in approval, completely satisfied with his work.

The prussian blue coat fits Jungkook perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders, while the silky light blue shirt adds a sophisticated edge. The trousers and polished loafers complete the look, and the diamond brooch glimmers subtly, tying everything together seamlessly. (jungkook's full outfit if u want to visualize it)

Yoongi whistles low, nodding. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. You look insanely good.” he claps. Jungkook glances at himself in the mirror, stunned by the transformation. “I look… fancy.” he mutters, running a hand down the soft fabric of the coat.

Yoongi smirks. “You look expensive. And that’s exactly the point.”

As the clock strikes 5, Jungkook’s phone buzzes with a message from you. It’s the address of the place he’s supposed to go. The pit in his stomach deepens as he reads it... nerves gnawing at him now that the event feels real and imminent.

He stands in Yoongi’s room, fidgeting with the cuffs of the silky dress shirt he's wearing, while Yoongi carefully styles his hair. After a few minutes of fussing, Yoongi steps back, his expression satisfied. “There.... perfect.” he quips with a smirk.

Jungkook sighs, taking in his reflection. He looks different... polished, refined, like someone who owns a portfolio full of stocks and leaves enormous tips at fancy restaurants without a second thought. He tilts his head, still processing the transformation.

“Let’s head out?” Yoongi suggests, and though still hesitant, Jungkook nods, grabbing his phone and wallet before following Yoongi downstairs.

When they step outside, the familiar luxury of Yoongi's estate greets him and he instantly notices that this time, Yoongi has opted for a different car... a sleek, deep-red Ferrari Roma. The polished exterior gleams under the fading daylight, and Jungkook can’t help but gawk. "This car looks like it belongs in a museum." he mutters, still trying to process Yoongi’s absurdly lavish lifestyle.

The same guard from earlier appears, carrying Jungkook’s luggage, which he efficiently loads into the the car's surprisingly spacious trunk. Yoongi slides into the driver’s seat, revving the engine, and the low, throaty hum fills the air.

Jungkook gets into the passenger seat, muttering under his breath, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

Yoongi chuckles as he adjusts the rearview mirror. “You’re supposed to say, ‘Thank you, Yoongi, for giving me a taste of luxury.’” he jokes.

The ride to the address you’ve shared isn’t long, but with each passing kilometer, Jungkook grows more apprehensive. The city’s bustling streets fade away, replaced by quieter, tree-lined roads. And as the sun finally sets, the atmosphere feels secluded and serene, the kind of area reserved for only the wealthiest of the wealthy.

By the time they approach the destination, it’s almost completely dark, and the surroundings are cloaked in shadow. Eventually, the headlights illuminate a massive iron gate adorned with intricate designs, the kind that looks custom-made and costs more than an average car.

Tall stone pillars flank the gate, with elegant golden lettering engraved on plaques— 'The Kims' etched prominently.

The GPS pings, signaling they’ve arrived. Before Jungkook can say a word, the gates swing open automatically, revealing a long, winding driveway lined with towering, perfectly trimmed trees. A soft glow from decorative lanterns illuminates the path, casting an ethereal ambiance over the grounds.

“Is this a driveway or a runway?” Jungkook mutters as the car rolls forward. The sheer length of the driveway seems surreal and it takes them almost five minutes to reach the end.

When they finally arrive, Yoongi slams on the brakes, his jaw dropping. “Holy fuck…” he breathes, gripping the steering wheel tightly. His voice is barely above a whisper as he asks, “Are you seeing this?”

Jungkook stares, utterly gobsmacked. Before them stands an enormous mansion, more like a palace than a home. The architecture is a seamless blend of modern elegance and classic grandeur.

A sprawling facade of pristine white marble reflects the soft golden lights strategically placed along the perimeter. Massive glass windows stretch across the mansion, framed by intricate black ironwork.

A fountain stands proudly in the center of the circular driveway, water cascading gracefully in the glow of ambient lights. The front doors are enormous, crafted from dark wood and adorned with golden handles that look like they belong in a royal palace.

Behind the mansion, faint silhouettes of sprawling gardens and additional wings of the estate hint at just how vast this property is. Jungkook feels like he’s stepped into a movie. His voice is barely audible as he murmurs. “This… This is where Y/N lives?”

“Dude...” Yoongi says, still staring at the mansion. “I told you my place would be nothing compared to this.”

As Yoongi is still marveling at the house, his hands gripping the steering wheel like he’s afraid to blink and miss something, Jungkook’s gaze drifts beyond the car's window.

Near the expansive lawn and the grand entrance of the mansion, groups of people mingle, their laughter and chatter carried on the soft evening breeze. It’s all so overwhelming, but then his eyes land on you, and suddenly, the world seems to still.

You’re standing by the grand double doors, chatting with two women who appear equally elegant. But his focus is entirely on you. You’re dressed in a stunning emerald green gown that hugs your figure just right.

The strapless design accentuates your shoulders and collarbones, and the gown flows down in soft, silky waves, brushing against the floor with every slight movement. A string of delicate pearls adorns your chest, their soft sheen catching the light with each turn of your head.

Your hair is styled in a way that frames your face beautifully, soft tendrils brushing against your cheeks. The golden glow of the mansion’s lights reflects in your eyes, making them look like the night sky dotted with stars.

You smile at something one of the girls says, and that smile... it’s the kind that makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat, the kind that could light up even the darkest of nights.

As he sits there in Yoongi’s car, rooted to his seat, he can’t help but take in your beauty. The way you carry yourself with such grace and confidence, as though you were born to belong in a setting as grand as this. Jungkook feels his throat tighten. How? How on earth had someone like him... ordinary, flawed, and a complete mess half the time, ever managed to end up with someone like you?

You’re perfect, he thinks, in every sense of the word. From the sparkle in your eyes to the way your laughter carries, soft and melodic, across the air. He feels a pang of disbelief, as though at any moment someone might tap him on the shoulder and tell him it’s all been a dream.

His hand clenches slightly against his knee as he leans back into the seat, still staring at you, unable to look away.

And like magic, your eyes meet his from across the expanse. It’s as though the crowd and the grandeur of the mansion fade into nothing, leaving just the two of you in your own world.

Your expression instantly lights up, a radiant smile spreading across your face. You excuse yourself from the two women without the slightest bit of hesitation, your steps purposeful as you make your way towards the car parked by the grand fountain.

“Oh my god, she’s coming… she’s coming here.” Jungkook mutters under his breath, panic and exhilaration twisting together in his chest. His words snap Yoongi out of his trance, but before Yoongi can even react, Jungkook is already out of the car.

“Baby... you made it.... Hi.” you say, your voice sweet and filled with warmth as you approach him. Without a second thought, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. The faint scent of your perfume envelops him, soft and comforting, and for a moment, he’s too stunned to move.

Just seconds ago, Jungkook’s mind had been a mixture of nerves and doubts, the unfamiliar surroundings and the weight of everything he’d learned earlier still pressing on him. But now, as he feels your arms around him and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest, all of that melts away.

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. In your embrace, the humoungous mansion, the status of those around him, and the intimidating luxury that surrounded him, no longer mattered. None of it.

Right here, right now, he feels safe. He feels like he belongs... not with the wealth, not with the prestige, but with you. It’s in the way your presence calms his racing heart, in the way your touch grounds him. With you, it feels like home.

And in that moment, he knows. No matter how out of place he might feel in this world of opulence, as long as he has you, he’ll always belong.

“Ahem.” Yoongi clears his throat, a playful glint in his eyes as he watches the two of you pull away from the hug. He stands by the side of the car, arms casually crossed, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. His gaze flicks between you and Jungkook, his eyebrows wiggling as if to silently ask... Are you going to introduce me, or what?

Jungkook’s eyes travel to Yoongi, and the subtle shift in his expression tells Yoongi that he’s caught on to the unspoken request. He gives a small, sheepish chuckle, the tension that had lingered before, now dissipating.

“Babe, this is Yoongi.” he says, his voice soft but genuine as he reaches out to encircle your waist again, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your back. He turns his head to Yoongi with a grin. “And Yoongi… this is Y/n.”

You look at Yoongi, a warm and open smile immediately spreading across your face. You’ve only heard bits and pieces of stories about him from Jungkook, but you already have a good sense of his nature. “Yoongi, hi!” you greet him, your voice bubbling with kindness.

“Thank you so much for bringing him. I'm a little mad at you for stealing him away from me on his very first day here...” you tease, your eyes sparkling as you glance up at Jungkook. “But I still get it. I guess I’ll forgive you... only this time, though.”

Yoongi chuckles, genuinely amused by your playfulness. He raises his arms, giving a mock bow, and offers a teasing apology. “I apologize. But thank you for letting him come meet me. It was really nice catching up after all these years." he sincerely says.

You smile at the sentiment, inching closer to Jungkook as you move past the brief formality. The three of you stand for a moment, the evening breeze and the sound of the water splashing in the fountain, wrapping around you.

The conversation feels comfortable, like a warm, shared space where everyone is still figuring each other out but already enjoying the connections being made.

Then, with a sudden idea that seems to come naturally to you, you look up at Yoongi with a soft but insistent smile. “Why don’t you join us tonight? It’ll be fun.” you suggest, your tone light but sincere.

Yoongi looks like he’s about to refuse, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he opens his mouth to protest. “Oh, my god, no. It’s alright, really-”

You cut him off gently, your voice light with the promise of something easy and enjoyable. “Oh, come on. It’ll be amazing. Besides you're already here and I would feel like a horrible person if I just sent you away without an invitation. Plus, I'm pretty sure you'll find some you know in there.. so please, do come.”

Yoongi hesitates again, the pull of his curiosity and the warmth of your invitation winning him over. But deep down, he knows he’d be stupid to refuse. Why the hell wouldn’t he want to spend his evening at the Kim estate, soaking in the luxury and splendor?

“Well... if you insist…” Yoongi begins, finally giving in with a playful smirk. “I’d be honored to stay.”

Jungkook watches the exchange with a soft grin on his lips, his heart swelling with a quiet affection for you. In moments like these, it’s impossible not to marvel at how effortlessly you make everyone feel at ease.

Your ability to connect with anyone, to put people at ease with your calm demeanor and genuine interest, is one of the things he admires the most about you.

As the three of you enter the mansion, Jungkook’s eyes immediately widen at the sheer gloriousness of the place. The space is expansive, and the walls are adorned with elegant artwork, framed portraits, and intricate carvings that speak of a long history of wealth and taste.

The air smells faintly of fresh flowers and something warm, like vanilla, and the soft lighting gives the house an intimate yet sophisticated feel. He can’t help but be in awe, his footsteps slowing as he takes in the magnificent surroundings. From the grand chandeliers overhead to the tastefully arranged furniture, every corner is meticulously curated.

Suddenly, Yoongi is distracted by a familiar face in the crowd... a friend of his, evidently, who bumps into him as they walk into the entryway. "Yooooo...Yoongi, What are you doing here, dude?" the man beams, instantly dapping him up.

Yoongi’s expression shifts from casual to excited as he greets the man, and soon enough, they’re deep in conversation, his attention completely absorbed by the exchange.

Seizing the moment, you lean over to Jungkook and softly whisper. “Come on, let's leave Yoongi to catch up with his friend." you simply say.

Without giving him an opportunity to agree or protest, you take Jungkook’s hand and lead him up the grand staircase, the polished wooden steps creaking slightly beneath your heels.

The second floor seems even quieter than the first, with only the distant murmur of conversation from the living room and the lawn below. The hallway is empty, the walls lined with family portraits and antique furniture that speaks of both elegance and history.

As you walk down the long corridor, Jungkook follows quietly, his hand wrapped around yours, the warmth of your touch grounding him.

Glancing over your shoulder, you catch his gaze and flash him a playful, flirty smile. Then, with effortless grace, you turn to face him, continuing to walk backwards, your eyes never leaving his, a teasing glint dancing in them.

A comfortable silence settles between you two as your eyes take him in. He looks undeniably charming. The way the outfit fits him, accentuating his sharp features, makes your heart flutter in a way you didn’t expect.

Even though you’ve only been apart for a few hours, you’ve missed him deeply. Unable to find the right words, you let your gaze speak for you, your eyes lingering on him with warmth and admiration, as if memorizing every detail.

“Did I tell you how fucking gorgeous you look tonight?” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the stillness, and you can't help but giggle at the awe in his expression.

His eyes glint with admiration, the kind of look that makes your heart flutter in your chest. He’s not hiding his feelings, and it’s evident from the way he glances at you, his gaze tracing your figure as if trying to etch every detail into his mind.

You feel a spark ignite inside you at his words, but you manage a smile, keeping your composure as you look at him. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” you tease, your steps slowing as he steps closer, releasing your fingers from his hold as he places his hands on your waist, halting you in your tracks.

The corridor feels quieter now, the faint hum of distant chatter fading into the background as his presence fills the space. He pulls you closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “I missed you.” he murmurs, his voice low and earnest, his gaze flickering to your lips. And as though it’s second nature, he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss.

A smile curls on your lips as you kiss him back, the warmth of the moment sending a flurry of butterflies through you. You can’t understand how he always manages to have this effect on you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“I missed you too.” you whisper as he pulls away, your eyes catching the faint shimmer of your lip gloss now smudged on his lips.

Despite the intimate moment you’ve just shared, you can’t help but laugh softly. He tilts his head in slight confusion, his brow arching adorably. Without saying a word, you take his hand again, leading him forward down the corridor.

“Come on, I want to show you my room.” you say, your voice light and eager as you guide him further into the corridor.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in eagerness as you lead him further down the corridor, past several closed doors. The silence around you both feels almost comforting, as if this is a moment just for the two of you... away from the grandiose of the house and the people downstairs. You’re aware of the weight of the space around you, but in this moment, you’re only aware of him.

“I’ve lived in this house ever since I was a baby...” you continue, your voice quiet but soft, allowing a sense of nostalgia to seep in. “After moving out to New York, the one thing I missed the most was my room.” You look up at him, your smile deepening. “So... I really just... wanted to show it to you.”

Jungkook seems struck by your words, his curiosity piqued, but you don’t elaborate further. You can tell he’s fascinated by the house... he’s seen enough of it already to know it’s not just a regular mansion, but you’re careful not to make him feel overwhelmed.

You don’t want him to think you’re bragging or showing off, not when it comes to your family’s history or the house that’s been passed down for generations. It’s always been a part of you, but you’ve always hated the idea of people seeing you through the lens of privilege.

You’ve never been the type to flaunt it, but the quiet discomfort always lingers. The fear that people will think you’re trying to distance yourself from others or act like you’re somehow above them. It’s why you’ve never told Jungkook much about your background, not in the way some people might expect. You didn’t want him to misunderstand.

As you round a corner and approach your door, Jungkook glances at you, sensing that there’s something more beneath the surface of your words. He opens his mouth to ask, but you cut him off gently with a soft smile, knowing he’ll get to know everything in time.

For now, all that matters is this moment, and as you unlock the door to your room, you can’t help but feel an odd sense of calm. You’ve never shared this part of yourself with anyone before... not like this. But with him, it feels like you’re finally letting him see all of you.

As you switch the lights on, a soft glow fills the room, instantly giving it a warm, inviting ambiance. Jungkook takes a step inside, his gaze sweeping over the delicate details that make up the space. The walls are painted in a blush pink hue, accentuated by crown molding in a creamy white tone.

The furniture matches the aesthetic, with an elegant white queen sized bed and a quilted headboard adorned with tiny, pearl-like studs.

There’s a fluffy cream rug sprawled across the polished wooden floor, and a cozy armchair tucked into the corner beside a tall bookshelf that’s overflowing with colorful novels, fashion magazines and trinkets.

The vanity table by the window catches his attention, its surface sprinkled with makeup items, a small vase of fresh flowers, and neatly arranged bottles of perfume. Above it, a mirror framed with soft golden lights reflects the subtle shimmer of the space.

The walls are brought to life with framed posters of iconic bands and celebrities, each placed thoughtfully, as though telling a story. A string of Polaroid pictures hangs on the wall near the bed, giving the room a personal, nostalgic touch.

He notices little figurines of 'Hello Kitty' on a floating shelf and a small collection of plush toys sitting in a basket near the window seat. The room feels youthful and dreamy, like stepping into a snapshot of your childhood.

Jungkook takes it all in, pausing as his eyes land on the posters and the subtle quirks that reveal glimpses of your younger self. He can’t help but imagine you here as a teenager... probably sprawled out on the bed, reading or listening to music, daydreaming about the future. The thought makes him smile, a warm fondness settling in his chest.

His thoughts are interrupted as you walk over to the vanity and pick up a picture frame, holding it up with a soft smile. “That’s me...” you say, pointing to a baby in the photo. Jungkook steps closer, curious, and his eyes fall on a little version of you, chubby-cheeked and wide-eyed. “And that... is Tae.” you continue, pointing to a young toddler that's securely holding you in his tiny arms.

Jungkook chuckles softly, leaning in to get a better look. “You still look the same.” he chuckles, his gaze shifting between the picture and you. "And Taehyung looks like he’s already ready to fight anyone who gets near you." he adds.

You laugh, gently setting the frame back down. You glance at the photo one last time, feeling a small tug of nostalgia before turning to Jungkook, who’s still looking around, clearly charmed by this intimate glimpse into your past.

"Your room is beautiful." he finally says, his voice soft with admiration as his gaze takes in the delicate details surrounding him. He can't believe he's being shown this deeply personal part of your life, and it makes him feel incredibly special.

You step forward, wrapping your arms around his neck with a tender smile. "Thank you, baby. I'm so glad I could show it to you." you say, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Just as the moment seems perfect, your expression shifts like you've suddenly remembered something crucial. "Oh my god! wait... no way... I totally forgot!!" you exclaim, breaking away from him.

Jungkook is bewildered for what feels like the hundredth time today as you grab his hand and practically drag him out of the room and down the long corridor. He's still trying to process what’s happening when you lead him back downstairs. His eyes dart around, noticing the guests still lost in their conversations, oblivious to the two of you passing by.

"I told my mom I'd introduce you to her the minute you'd arrive but… I totally forgot!" you admit hurriedly, your voice tinged with a mix of excitement and guilt as you weave through the crowd.

The words hit Jungkook like a bolt of lightning, and his eyes widen in panic. Your mom? He was going to meet your mom? Right now? No warning, no preparation? He feels a surge of anxiety bubbling up in his chest.

"Wait... wait!" he halts abruptly, tugging your hand so you’re forced to turn around and look at him in confusion. "Babe, a warning would have been nice. I need to prepare myself for this moment... this is your mom we're talking about." he breathes out, clutching his chest dramatically.

You chuckle, brushing off his concerns with ease. "Oh, come on, Kook. She's just my mom. You'll be fine, I promise." you assure, gently tugging his hand again, urging him to follow you.

Reluctantly, Jungkook lets himself be led through a side door and into what appears to be the kitchen. As soon as he steps inside, he’s overwhelmed by the bustling atmosphere. The space is alive with activity... chefs moving in synchrony, slicing, plating, and perfecting dishes with meticulous attention to the tiniest details.

The scent of freshly baked bread mingles with the aroma of roasted meat and delicate spices, creating a sensory overload.

Jungkook’s gaze darts from one end of the kitchen to the other, trying to absorb everything at once. A massive spread of colorful dishes is being prepared on a long marble countertop, and he doesn’t even know where to focus. For a moment, he forgets his nerves as he marvels at the organized chaos around him.

"Stay with me." you murmur, squeezing his hand reassuringly. But Jungkook can’t help but think about how this might be the most intimidating moment of his life... meeting your mom in the middle of what feels like a five-star culinary operation.

You glance around the bustling kitchen, scanning the scene for your mom. It doesn’t take long before you spot her back as she leans slightly towards one of the chefs, gesturing animatedly while the chef nods thoughtfully, hanging on her every word.

There’s a commanding yet sophisticated presence about her, and the sight makes a smile creep onto your lips. Without hesitation, you tug Jungkook along, your excitement bubbling over. “Mama!!” you call out, your voice cutting through the hum of the kitchen.

At first, she doesn’t respond, too engrossed in giving precise instructions about something to the chef. You don’t mind, though because you know how focused she can get when she’s in her element.

As you approach her, you release Jungkook’s hand, letting him stand beside you as he instinctively straightens his coat, smoothing the fabric nervously.

Now only a few steps away, you finally stop, waiting patiently for her to finish her instructions. Jungkook stands a little stiffly next to you, his hands clasped in front of him as he watches the exchange, silently psyching himself up for what’s coming next.

Once she finishes instructing the chef, she finally turns around, her soft features lighting up with a smile when her eyes land on you. “Y/N.” she says warmly, acknowledging you.

Her appearance is effortlessly chic, exuding an aura of power and sophistication. Dressed in a sleek, wine colored dress paired with a delicate pearl necklace and stud earrings, she looks into your eyes.

Her posture is immaculate, shoulders back, chin high, and she carries herself with an air of unshakable authority. Her eyes... sharp and piercing, hold a fierceness that can make anyone squirm under her gaze.

She’s never been the one to smile easily, and even now, her expression holds a seriousness that makes Jungkook feel like he’s being sized up before he’s even said a word.

But when her eyes shift to Jungkook, her demeanor subtly changes. The faint smile that played on her lips moments ago falters, replaced by a look of mild disapproval.

One of her eyebrows arches as she takes in the man standing beside you, and Jungkook immediately feels the weight of her scrutiny. It’s clear from the way her gaze lingers that she’s not the least bit pleased to meet him.

“Mama, this is Jungkook.” you begin sweetly, your voice light and cheerful, as if trying to bridge the gap of tension. “I told you I was bringing him.” You smile at her, radiating warmth, but it’s met with a polite but distant smile from her, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Jungkook isn’t blind to it, he can see the coldness lurking behind her expression.

“Hello.” she finally says, her tone neutral, devoid of warmth. Her words are carefully measured, making Jungkook feel like she’s already testing him.

He feels his heart rate spike, but he doesn’t let it show. With a deep breath, he bows at a perfect right angle, his voice steady as he speaks. “Hello, ma’am. I’m Jeon Jungkook.” He straightens up, his posture confident despite the nervous energy coursing through him.

He meets her fierce gaze head-on, determined to make a good impression, though her icy stare makes him feel like he’s being dissected.

You glance at Jungkook, noticing his effort, and squeeze his hand briefly before stepping closer to your mother, hoping to ease the tension.

She nods curtly as Jungkook introduces himself, her sharp eyes trailing over him from head to toe, as though she’s analyzing every detail.

"So, you're from New York?" she asks suddenly, her voice carrying an edge that makes Jungkook straighten his posture. The question catches him slightly off guard, but he quickly nods in acknowledgment.

"Yes, ma’am." he answers politely, his voice steady.

Your mother narrows her eyes slightly, a calculating look flashing across her face. "I'm sure you've noticed how different things are around here... in Korea." she says, her tone almost conversational, though there's an unmistakable undercurrent of something more. "Very different from your... western culture." she adds, the words laced with what feels like a taunt.

You shift uncomfortably, sensing the rising tension. Jungkook hesitates, unsure of how to respond, and you decide to step in. "Mama, he lived in Korea before he moved to New York..." you explain gently, trying to diffuse the situation. "I'm sure he knows how things are around here."

But your mother doesn't acknowledge your reassurance. Her piercing gaze stays fixed on Jungkook. "Your parents?" she asks next, one eyebrow raised, her expression unyielding.

Jungkook’s throat tightens as he answers, his tone polite but guarded. "My mom... she owns a café in New York." he replies, hoping to keep the answer straightforward.

Your mother’s expression barely changes, but Jungkook notices the faintest flicker of disapproval in her eyes. It’s subtle, but it cuts deep. "Ah... so it's only your mother, then?" she probes further, her voice calm but pointed.

You feel your stomach drop at her words, the implicit judgment in her tone impossible to miss. Your protective instincts kick in immediately, and before she can say anything more, you interject.

"Okay, Mama, that's enough interrogation for now..." you say, your voice cheerful but firm as you grab Jungkook’s hand. "We need to get going. Grandma is going to be here any minute now... and the party is going to start soon." you add.

Jungkook notices the way her eyes flick down to your intertwined hands, and her jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. She doesn’t say anything, though, merely nodding stiffly as she steps back.

Before the situation can escalate further, you tug Jungkook out of the kitchen and into the hallway. As soon as you’re out of your mother's sight, you stop and turn to him, your expression apologetic.

"I am so so so sorry for that." you say quickly, your eyes scanning his face. You can see how pale he looks, the color drained from his cheeks. The conversation clearly rattled him, and it breaks your heart.

"I don’t know why she was acting like that." you continue, your voice softening as you place a comforting hand on his cheek. "I’m really sorry, baby. That wasn’t fair to you."

Jungkook exhales slowly, feeling the warmth of your palm against his skin. He hates how unsettled he feels, the subtle but unmistakable judgment in your mother’s eyes still gnawing at him.

He’s not naive, he knows exactly what her words and looks implied. But he doesn’t want to burden you with his feelings, so he forces a small smile and shrugs.

"Please... don’t apologize." he says gently, his voice calm but distant. "She’s your mother. I get why she’d question me like that... I’m dating her daughter, after all." he reasons.

His attempt to brush it off doesn’t fool you, but you decide not to push him. Instead, you give his cheek a small caress, hoping to soothe him.

Sensing the heaviness lingering between you, Jungkook shifts the conversation. "Anyways... don’t we have a tea party to get to?" he asks with a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood despite the war in his mind.

You know he’s deflecting, choosing not to dwell on the interaction with your mother. So you let him, offering him a gentle smile in return. "We do." you reply softly, squeezing his hand. "Come on, let’s go."

As Jungkook trails behind you, the weight in his chest feels almost suffocating, each step amplifying the unease swirling in his mind.

Three weeks... that’s how long he’s going to be here for. The thought echoes in his head, heavier with every repetition.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to endure it, not when your mother’s piercing gaze feels like it sees right through him, layered with unspoken judgments that cut deeper than words ever could.

The very idea looms ahead, an uphill battle he isn’t sure he’s equipped to fight, yet one he knows he cannot avoid.

<- part 1 // part3 ->

taglist: @mirinaeii @taetaecatboy (lmk if u want to be added <3)

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction #crazy rich asians

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depresssant · 7 months ago

Text

title : 'santa maria' aquamarine

yan!gojo x painter!reader

synopsis : he had never spared you a single glance before, but now here he was talking about getting you an aquamarine necklace to match his eyes

—————

“oh, [name]? yeah, that loser always holes herself up in her room."

your older sister's voice could be heard from a mile away with how obnoxious she sounded.

well, she wasn't wrong.

sighing, you tossed your paintbrush into its cup and took a step back to look at your half-finished work. you spent an entirety of a week on it, not bothering to step out of your room unless it was to change the water in your cup, get food, or clean your paintbrushes. the painting was of a faceless woman in black walking in the opposite direction of all the colorful people as rain stormed from the clouds. she was the only one that didn't have an umbrella.

it reminded you a little of you...

who were you kidding?

the woman in the painting was you.

in the world of jujutsu, you were just a non-sorcerer that could only see curses. your family was a famous and potent clan who's pride was their cursed technique, so to have been born without one was a bad omen in itself. you were to be discarded, ignored, and shunned from what was considered a 'normal society.'

even your own family participated in such a trend, and you had soon found yourself turning into a hermit of sorts. what good did it do to even show your face to the world if the world didn't want to see you? it was a lost cause⏤one that you refused to believe in any longer. living like this until you turned eighteen was really the only option left for you.

you nodded in satisfaction⏤it was a rare occasion for you to be satisfied with one of your pieces⏤and moved to begin cleaning, but all of a sudden, your door swung open as if it was kicked down.

the sight that greeted you made any wisp of happiness you had crumbled away.

"[NAME]!"

when were the two of you on first name basis?

gojo satoru, in all his glowing glory, stormed into your room like a hurricane with a grin that reflected heaven's light itself and a bag of sweets from a bakery you knew all too well. he shut the door with his foot⏤why did he close the door⏤and avoided all the stuff you had laying across the floor before placing the bag on a clear part of your desk and tossing himself onto your bed.

"i've missed you so much, you know!" he whined and grabbed the dinosaur plushie situated in the crack between the wall and the edge of your bed. "you kept it!"

Only because he forced you to.

you sighed in disappointment and grabbed all your cups and paintbrushes to place them in a plastic container headed for the bathroom. "what are you doing here?"

"geez, is that any way to talk to your fiancé?"

"burn in hell."

"whateveeeeerrr! i got you your favorite. the chocolate chip cookie croissant!" the white-haired man rolled his eyes like this was simply playful banter and not literal words from the depths of your heart. he grabbed the bag and after rummaging through, pulled up some packaged good.

how did he know that was your favorite pastry?

"thank you," you murmured back in reply. "if that's all, please leave. i'm sure sister wants to see you."

you grabbed a paintbrush with a smaller tip to begin adding the little details to the painting, but gojo didn't get the hint. he sat on your chair and looked up at you to watch you paint. there was a smirk on his face that told you he knew something you didn't, and it got under your skin like a parasite.

"stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

"i said stop looking at me like that!"

"ugh, fine! you're no fun! how are we supposed to spend the rest of our lives together if you act so cold? you know... i know tomorrow is your birthday."

... shit.

your hold tightened on your paintbrush, but you sighed and shrugged. "okay? and?"

"I just wanted to ask because i know emerald is your favorite. we should've went shopping for it before the wedding, but i figured that since you didn't like going out, i'd just get them myself. what type of ring do you want? emerald? diamond? ruby? oh! i should get you one of those, uh, santa maria aquamarine gems! it matches my eyes, aaaannnndddd we can make it into a necklace for you!"

emerald? diamond? a wedding ring...

not a ring. a curse trapping you with him forever.

you remembered not too long ago when he had asked you if you wanted to wear a western styled gown or a traditional kimono picked out by his mother, and you thought he was joking. he had hated you for so long⏤going as far as to making your life physically hell, but then he strangely flipped a switch? you were supposed to believe that the man who scarred you as a means to rebel against your future marriage with him suddenly jumped in excitement at the sight of you? a man who didn't bother to glance your way for seven and a half straight years before finally talking to you willingly just magically knew all your likes and dislikes, the future dates on your calendar, and every contact on your phone?

damn it.

why did your parents pick you to get engaged with him instead of your sister?

"[name]? are you ignoring me again?"

huh?

"no! no, i'm not!" you lightly shook your head, but the damage had been done.

gojo rose and took off his glasses as a menacing look in his eyes was pinned on you. he grabbed a hold of your waist, hugging you from behind so tightly you felt like your ribs would shatter. his cheek rested on your shoulder, and the words that he whispered in your ear felt like your doom being set in stone.

he tightened his hold on you as a hand came to wrap around your throat.

"i don't think you know you're mine."

and he squeezed.

"forever."

#jjk #yandere jjk #fem reader #x reader #gojo x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #male yandere #yandere #arranged marriage #depresssant

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blue-jisungs · 1 year ago

Text

museum crush

author's note. wish i could say it was based on a real story but it was definitely inspired by one lol!! when i was in a museum in rome there were two guys and they entered briefly after me ,, we just kept awkwardly looking at each other lol it was so goofy because we passed each other all the time and i could hear their comments on the art … it was so cute lol but they left before me so … anyways . . . . . .

summary. in which a visit to a museum results in a sudden surprise

peaceful silence filled with the air conditioning pleasantly humming in the room surrounded you. your eyes were scanning the beautiful painting in front of you. all the details, the way the oil paint slightly shine due to the lamps and – something you adored – the gentle cracks in the canvas. they only added originality to the paining and showed the age of the–

“this one looks like mark when he wakes up early…”

giggles reached your ears and you turned around with a small smile.

two guys entered the museum after you. you were walking quite slowly, appreciating the art around you and all the small descriptions. sometimes you passed them and the other time, they passed you. exchanging looks while you walked by, you couldn’t help but smile at their little comments or poses they stroke while trying to recreate the characters on paintings or sculptures.

“shut up”

you scoffed and moved on to another room slowly, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the spacious room.

you heard some whispers and then silence.

watching and adoring the art, you moved to the stairs to go to another floor. that’s when you heard their voices again.

“dude… stop”

“this is so awkward”

“you’re the one making it awkward–“

you shook your head and finally arrived to another room: the one you were most excited about.

after walking into the room and going to the left, they moved to right. while you were still feasting your eyes with one of the stunning paintings you’ve ever seen, they were done and moved to you.

“just, um… we’re not following you, if you’re wondering” a voice rung behind you.

you turned around, shocked, only to meet the cute guy. his wide smile was quite contagious, mischief sparkling in his eyes. his friend, however, hid his face behind his hands and pretended to look the other way.

“you’re pretty cute, so i don’t mind” you hummed and instantly regretted your sudden confidence. the guy, though, seemed to like your response.

“pretty cute? but more pretty or more cute? ah, why not handsome?” he cocked and eyebrow and you just chuckled

“more cute” you smiled and pointed at his friend “he looks like he just waits for the ground to swallow him”

“he’s just… no fun. but uh, we’ll keep going. i just wanted to let you know. see ya in another room, maybe…?” the guy sent you a boyish look and almost immediately got dragged away by his friend. all you could hear was the whisper-shouting conversation they had:

“she called me cute, renjun!”

“yeah but… w h y…”

“because she is cute too!”

“well, okay but– oh woah! this is the sculpture i told you about!”

you let out a shaky breath, not truly believing what happened.

you passed each other two more times, each time exchanging looks with the guy who talked to you. his eyes lingered on you instead of the art, his friend’s words of praise about certain art pieces felt deaf on his ears. the stranger was mesmerised by you.

stepping into the souvenir shop, you were kind of disappointed that your ways will part. scanning through some overpriced magnets, you felt a tap on your arm.

there he was again, with his boyish grin.

the man handed you a postcard and winked, catching up with his friend.

the postcard was showing the art piece you were looking at when the guy approached you. cute.

then you turned it around and gasped, heart thumping in your chest.

in a room full of art, i’d still look at you. if you ever want to go together (without my nerdy friend), let me know ;)

xxx-xxx-xxx na jaemin :D

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @w3bqrl

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Always Ever Only You Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Asking your friends for help when you need it is starting to feel good instead of scary. Even listening to Cat open up doesn't sting like it once did. Bradley starts to have an ominous feeling about his upcoming mission, and when the details are revealed, he's left wondering what his career will be like in the future.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

There was truly something to be said for the way you felt after you talked to Dr. Genevieve. Even though your period was a few days late, and you had been holding out hope, you didn't go quite to pieces when it did end up starting. Sure, there were some tears as you opened up a new box of tampons, but you didn't dwell on it as much as you had the past several cycles in a row.

In fact, when you thought you couldn't take the physical pain of your cramps and the mental pain as well, you called Maria. You told her that you didn't want to be alone and asked if she could stop by. And she came over with a backpack and some donuts.

"What's in the bag?" you asked as you bit into a Boston cream.

"Clothes for tomorrow," she replied, petting Tramp while she ate a chocolate donut with sprinkles. "I figured I could sleep over."

"You don't have to," you whispered, now feeling a little embarrassed.

But she just shrugged. "I've been a little lonely, too. My new roommate has never been as fun as you were."

"Nobody is," you added, biting into a second donut. You figured you earned it, since you'd started to get back on track with what you were eating. "Thanks for joining me in the cafeteria at work."

"Thanks for actually coming to lunch. Cam is hella boring to eat with every day."

You groaned and headed for the couch with a bottle of wine. "Ugh, I left you hanging with Cam. I'm sorry." You were going to be better about taking care of everything. Yourself, your marriage, Bradley, and your friends.

Maria just laughed and followed behind you with two glasses and a corkscrew. "I love him, but he's still a dude. And just inherently dumb. He can't help it."

The girl talk ended up spiraling into a great weekend, and when you went to work on Monday morning, you still felt good. And Bickel had been a saint, not acting weird or giving you too much distance at all since you broke down hard in his office. Sure, maybe he was asking you how you were feeling with a little more frequency, but he kept your workload the same and never questioned anything you handed in to him.

And then there was Cat. Since you kind of blew the Jake thing up in her face, she'd been very quiet. Jake was still claiming nothing was going on now, but you'd never have been able to get an answer out of Cat one way or the other. And now you were thinking maybe you should have just minded your own business. Because Jake seemed melancholy, and he hadn't actually ended things himself even after he learned about Uncle Hondo.

"Good morning," you said to Cat later in the week when you walked into the lab. She seemed surprised you were greeting her.

'Hi," she responded, slipping back into her usual state of calm immediately. "If you're about to ask about the calculation set, I'm almost done. I just need another hour or two."

"No rush," you replied. "Um, actually, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch today?"

She eyed you skeptically. "In the cafeteria?"

You shrugged. "Or my office?"

When Cat didn't respond right away, you wanted to kick yourself. But then she said, "I feel like you and I just keep getting off to bad start after bad start with each other. I'd like to eat with you, but I don't want to go down to the cafeteria. At all. Just looking at Lieutenant Seresin makes me want to hide."

"Care to elaborate?" you asked cautiously.

She just smirked. "Sure. Over lunch. In your office."

---------------------------

Bradley had stripped down to his underwear and gym shorts, and he was currently trying his hardest to meditate on his bed. Bob had spent the last several weeks patiently trying to explain to him exactly what went into it, but Bradley would reach a state of calm and then inevitably get distracted.

He cracked his eyes open to see Bob in a state of complete relaxation on his own bed. Something about this just didn't work as well for him, and his brain was buzzing, so Bradley reached for his notebook instead. There were too many things he wanted to write down. It felt like he wasn't going to be able to stop emptying out all of his feelings now that he started, and after several weeks, the notebook was mostly full.

The desire to be at home was overwhelming. Thinking about eating homemade Marry Me Rooster with his wife perched on his lap was all that was getting him through this deployment. As soon as he was home, he'd make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him. There were no conditions on his love, and he was embarrassed and crushed that maybe he made you think there were.

He only had a few more weeks to go. But things with the mission were looking abysmal. Slayer and Charmer were getting worse to deal with by the day, and the way the admirals praised them was beyond ridiculous. Like the shiny, new aviators were somehow better than the ones with more experience. Like Bradley, Nat and Bob couldn't keep up now. It was hard to keep believing that the admirals would actually put the best team together to complete the mission.

"Wow," Bob suddenly said, stretching his arms over his head and removing his glasses. "That was a great session."

"Yep," Bradley agreed, nodding as he scribbled in the notebook. "Really good, Bob."

But the other man was already pulling the bedding up to his shoulders, and Bradley knew he'd be asleep soon. "Good for you," he muttered, returning to his notebook.

Nat and Bob were so good to him, this deployment should have been a breeze. And it had improved since he got to talk to you over facetime in the commanding officer's quarters, but he thought he'd go ahead and start a countdown in the notebook anyway. Just eighteen more days until he should be arriving back in San Diego. And he was hoping like hell he would get to call you again before then.

But a few days later, he still hadn't been selected for another facetime session. And Bob and Nat got called out onto the tarmac after dinner for a repairs inspection that was performed on their Super Hornet. So Bradley headed to the gym for a workout by himself, and the room was thankfully fairly empty. He put in his ear buds and got out his phone. He selected the playlist you made for him last year called This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley and he smiled.

Pretty soon he was sweating, working his way through some bicep curls, when he saw Slayer out of the corner of his eye. He would ignore him. No problem. Only two weeks left to go. Only a few more days until the mission. "Do not engage," Bradley muttered to himself.

But of course he couldn't control what Slayer decided to do, and the idiot wandered over toward him. And then he snatched his phone off of the bench, and Bradley was on his feet immediately, still clutching the fifty pound dumbbell in his left hand.

"What the hell do you want?" Bradley asked, plucking one ear bud out. "It's bad enough I have to see you in the classroom all day."

Slayer just laughed, and Bradley realized he was staring at his lock screen. "Just wanted another look at your wife. How much younger is she, old man? She got a grandpa fetish or something?"

Bradley's fingers tightened around the dumbbell, and he wished he'd given more of an effort to meditating with Bob.

He was seething. And then Slayer asked him, "You know what? Why don't you just give me her number so I can keep her warm next time you're out of town?"

Bradley had to fight the urge to throw the dumbbell at him. "You talk an awful lot for someone so stupid."

"And you strut around like you own the place for something who can barely fly."

Bradley's blood was boiling now. The admirals had pumped these kids so full of bullshit, there was going to be no arguing with him. Instead he snatched his phone out of Slayer's hand and pocketed it. "And you're slow as shit versus an old man. Now get back to your bunk, it's almost curfew for the children."

Slayer smirked at him as he backed away toward an empty weight bench. "Just wait. You'll see."

--------------------------

You had made it this far, you could make it two more weeks. But you got your period again, right on time. And you knew it was ridiculous to get choked up when you had to get the tampons and pads out again, because Bradley wasn't even home. You hadn't had intercourse since he left six weeks ago. You knew there was no way. But just the idea of knowing another cycle was ending had tears stinging behind your eyes.

When you heard the doorbell, you quickly washed your hands and rushed out to where Tramp was practically howling at the front door. "Chill out," you told him. "You'll be happy. You loved him last time."

"Hi," Cat said as soon as you opened the door, and you saw Hondo pull away in his green Chevy. Jeremiah was in her arms, and once again, he smiled when he saw you. Things at work were a lot better, including having several nice conversations with Cat.

"Sorry, little guy," you said softly as they came inside. "No Rooster this time."

Cat laughed. "I think your dog will suffice. He loves animals."

When you closed the door, you watched Tramp follow them over to the couch, and then he started licking Jeremiah's little hands nonstop while the baby laughed. "If he's annoying, I can put him out back for a bit."

"No," Cat said as she and her son both laughed. "This is great." And then Jeremiah broke free from her arms and stood with both hands on Tramp. And you swore your dog had never been happier either.

A little pang of sadness struck your heart as Tramp looked all too delighted at the attention he was being given. You were searching for a safe topic of conversation. Cat had been joining you for lunch on occasion, which was great. But now you found that you had so many friends, you needed to juggle your time with them. Cam and Cat were a little awkward around each other. And Cat wouldn't tell you exactly how she felt about Jake, but you knew Jake was sad and Cat was avoiding him.

So you asked her, "You still feel like hiding from Jake at work?" It seemed like a safe enough topic, and you almost laughed when she covered her face and collapsed dramatically against the arm of the couch.

"Please! You keep asking me about this!"

"I'm curious by nature," you claimed. "And you never really told me anything."

She glanced at you as Jeremiah went crawling across the floor after Tramp. "I'm still embarrassed that I even kissed him in the first place. Uncle Bernie and I had it out several times about all the push ups, but he was just trying to take care of me. And I know that sounds like an excuse, but... keeping someone like Jake away from me is probably his top priority while Jer and I are living with him."

You tried to keep your composure, because you and Cat seemed to finally be getting along, but you just couldn't understand why she wouldn't give Jake a chance for real. "He's a good guy, Cat. God... I can't even tell you how many times he's helped me out and made me feel safe."

She turned to face you where you sat at the other end of the couch. "He's exactly like my ex husband. A cocky, handsome aviator who is too smart for his own good."

You shrugged and kind of nodded, because that definitely sounded like Jake. "Well whatever your ex did to piss you off, I doubt Jake would be the same. Are you afraid he won't accept Jeremiah?"

She swallowed hard. "I'd rather not even find out where he stands on his opinions about my son. And listen, there's a reason why my ex husband never met Jeremiah. And it's the same reason I never let him know our son's social security number or where we ran off to. I'm sure he has a hunch that I was able to transfer to Top Gun, but Mike is definitely too scared to come sniffing around for more while I'm with Bernie."

You shook your head in confusion. "Come sniffing around for more of what?"

"Money," she said simply, but her jaw was set, and she looked ready for a fight. And you should have probably known all along that there was more than what she had told you over the past few months. You were pretty sure you were the only one who even knew about Jeremiah, besides Bradley and Cam. And if Cat was the type of person who took their time opening up to people, you were surprised that you were the one she was talking to about this.

"He wants your money?" you asked softly.

Since she borrowed your car, you knew she didn't have one, and she said that she was broke. But your jaw dropped open when she said, "Mike was dishonorably discharged from the navy for showing up to work drunk and drinking while on base. He tanked his own career, and nobody in Annapolis could even look at me the same after that."

"Why would he do that?"

She laughed, but she looked like she was going to cry. "Because I told him I was pregnant."

Jeremiah was laying on his back now while Tramp licked his neck, and he was giggling up a storm. "I'm so confused," you told her. "He didn't want you to get pregnant?"

"Well he told me he would be happy to have kids. But by the time I told him I was pregnant with Jer, he had already opened four credit cards in my name. He had already lost all of our savings. And he knew I was going to find out about all of it as soon as I mentioned us opening a bank account for our unborn child."

"Oh."

When she met your eyes, she shook her head. "He has a gambling addiction." You watched as she wiped at her cheek. "I used to own a beautiful house," she said, glancing around longingly. "I had a car. He and I had money saved. But he managed to lose all of it, plus the credit card advancements in my name. I owe more than half a million dollars in money that I didn't spend. Money that I never saw. And that doesn't include what I've paid to my lawyers. Mike did all of that while I thought we were building a life together."

"Holy shit," you whispered. You felt nauseous just thinking about it. And you were suddenly even more thankful for Bradley.

"So yeah... cocky, headstrong aviators might be my type on paper, but I can't get involved. And I'm sorry I was leading Jake on. But, it's not just him. I can't get serious with anyone when my life is a trainwreck that I will never be able to recover from. I'm going to be spending the rest of my life trying to make sure this doesn't all fall to him," she said, nodding toward where Jeremiah was now crawling back toward the couch with Tramp following right behind him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I don't know what else to say except that you didn't deserve any of that, and neither did Jeremiah."

She reached down to scoop him up into her arms as he yawned. "Yeah well, I hope you're smarter than me. I hope you had a prenup."

You sat quietly and watched as she kissed Jeremiah's forehead and reached into the diaper bag she brought with her so he could eat some cereal. Cat had been honest with you. She told you months ago that she was jealous of you, and now you knew why. You had all these things that you were taking for granted.

For some reason, you thought she ought to know that you'd been jealous all along, too. "You still have something so good though. Something I wish I had."

She looked at you like you'd completely lost it while Jeremiah ate some Cheerios. "What? A marriage that ended in shambles and a career that is hanging on by a thread? Or the inability to ever have someone take you seriously in a relationship ever again?"

"No. Jeremiah."

She looked at you, and her face dropped. "Oh." And maybe she realized that meant you and Bradley had been trying unsuccessfully, but you changed the subject before she could ask any questions.

"But that doesn't matter, really. And you know, there are some things we do have control over here."

"Like what?" she asked, and when you smiled softly, she smiled back.

"Jake. I think you might be surprised by him, Cat. I think he'd be good with Jeremiah."

"No," she replied right away. "I'd rather not even find out. Besides, it's already too late with Jake. Even if he was going to stop sleeping around, it's done. He asked me out at least fifteen times. And I said no at least fifteen times."

"If he asked you out again, would you say yes?"

You jumped several inches when your doorbell rang again, and Tramp ran for the door like he was a professional guard dog. "We didn't even order a pizza yet," you said as you stood. But the closer you got to the door, you thought you knew who it must be, and you answered it anyway.

"Angel," Jake drawled, bending to pet Tramp who immediately turned into a puppy again at the prospect of pets from one of his favorite people. "Just thought maybe you'd want to get dinner and head to the Hard Deck later?"

When you didn't respond right away, Jake pushed the door open wider and let himself inside. Then you watched him freeze up as he saw Cat sitting on your couch with Jeremiah in her arms. "Cat."

She looked absolutely mortified as she stood up, but she had nowhere to go. She was reliant upon Hondo coming back to pick her up, and Jake was staring right at Jeremiah. "Jake," she said so softly, you could barely hear her across the room.

He huffed out a short breath and ran his fingers through his hair, past the scar on his forehead from the last time he was deployed with Bradley. You weren't sure what you should do, but then he simply said, "You have a kid."

Cat's chin was in the air again, and you knew she wouldn't let Jake or anyone else say one negative thing about that child without consequences. "His name is Jeremiah."

"Jeremiah," Jake repeated, and two sets of matching dark eyes were looking right at him before Jeremiah yawned and fell asleep on his mom's chest. "He's adorable."

Cat sank slowly down so she was sitting on the couch once again, and she looked like the fight was gone, almost like she was exhausted now. You nudged Jake in the ribs and then reached for Tramp's leash where it hung near the door. "I'll be right back. Just going to take him out." But nobody was listening to you. Once the leash was clipped on his collar, Tramp pulled you out onto the front porch. You caught one last glimpse of Jake taking up residence in the spot on the couch you'd vacated, and then you closed the door.

You puttered around the yard with Tramp before deciding to just walk him down to the beach and back. But the early spring air was chilly when the wind picked up across the sand, and you wished you'd taken a minute to grab Bradley's sweatshirt from the hook as well.

Playing a comparison game in your mind would get you nowhere, you knew that. Everything Cat told you was completely fucked up, but she had to know how that Jeremiah was worth it. And you knew that Bradley was enough, even if it was just the two of you. But now you were a little worried about Jake putting his foot in his mouth.

When you hustled back down your block, shivering as the breeze picked up some more, you saw that Jake's car was still in your driveway. And when you cautiously let yourself back inside with Tramp, you found Cat and Jake sitting very close together on the couch. And Jake was holding Jeremiah while he slept.

-------------------------

Bradley knew it would be a short call. The mission was scheduled for a few days from now, weather depending. But if he was allowed even five minutes with you, he'd take it any day of the week.

When you answered his facetime call, you were sitting in your office with your lunch in front of you. "Roo!" you gasped, dropping your fork into your burrito bowl. "I miss you!"

"I miss you, too, Sweetheart."

He watched as you turned to someone off screen and said, "Okay, thanks."

"Who are you eating lunch with?"

"Cat," you replied quickly, and he was a little surprised by that answer. "She just stepped out into the hallway so we could talk. Please tell me you'll be home on time, Bradley."

He smiled and said, "Haven't been notified of any changes, so I think so. Please tell me you got plenty of hot sauce in there."

You laughed and tipped your lunch so he could see all of the green hot sauce. "Absolutely. You know how I like it."

"I do," he replied softly as he examined your face. Beautiful. Just gorgeous. And you looked so much happier now. You looked like you'd been sleeping better.

"I wish I was sharing my lunch with you."

He nodded. "I've been thinking a lot about our dining room. And how it feels so good to hold you on my lap while we eat a meal off of one plate."

You gasped softly. "I've been thinking about that too." When your eyes drifted closed, you added, "And how you wrap your left arm around me and kiss my neck while he eat."

"Baby Girl." His voice was raspy, and he was aching to be with you right now. "We'll do everything."

But he only had one more minute with you, and he wanted to know how you were doing. When he asked, you said, "I can tell you when you get home. Tell me about the mission."

"I can't say much. Teams get selected tomorrow morning. Flight is weather dependent. You know the drill."

"I do. I just want you to be safe," you told him softly. "Need you to come home."

"I'll be there so soon. I love you."

And after that, he still felt so good as he got to the classroom a few minutes early the next morning. Admiral Dean smirked at him as he took his usual seat, and the room started filling up. Other than the fact that he had to stare at the back of Slayer's head, he was ready to get this mission in the air and get home.

"As you well know," Admiral Dean started, "the final details will not be set in stone until the day of the mission. So we are left with two options, and we need to be clear on both of them. Option A: the two teams will fly in formation and strike the communications tower first before proceeding to the enemy base. This is the preferred option as we would be removing multiple streams of communication first, but we may need to switch to an alternate flight path if they have too many aircrafts in the air. So that brings us to Option B, in which you will strike the base first and then loop around to the communications tower."

Bradley's brain was literally numb from listening to this information over and over again. He understood the importance of what needed to be done, but this was overkill now. When he glanced at Nat, she looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. Until Dean spoke again.

"If there are no questions, that brings us to team selections. Four aircrafts will be flying this mission. We've chosen the best, and I am already convinced of the success of this mission. The teams will be as follows: Slayer will be paired with Phoenix and Bob."

His heart sank. Shit. That was supposed to be Bradley's pairing. Fucking Slayer. But it probably didn't matter too much if he was flying alongside a different two-seater, just as long as he was in the air with his friends. Really, all four aircrafts were responsible for keeping each other safe, so he wouldn't be too far from them at all.

"And the second team will be Charmer paired with Terror and Mack."

It took a second to register. But slowly, it seemed like everyone in the room was turning to stare at Bradley. Admiral Dean looked smug. Nat and Bob looked distraught. And Slayer looked damn near delighted. Then Charmer turned to him and laughed.

And Bradley had the fleeting thought that his career was over. He was the oldest aviator in the room by a few years. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was falling short with proving himself in the air just as he had been messing things up on the ground with you. And that sick, embarrassed feeling in his stomach was there to stay as all those thoughts took up permanent residence in his mind.

-----------------------------

Oh. That stings. That really hurt my feelings. Bradley could fly circles around them. And how do we feel about Jake? Cat? Jeremiah? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

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cochineal-leviat · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet Dreams, Stardust

Okay, so I have a lot of feelings about In Stars and Time. But let me say first, wow, this game irreversibly changed my brain network. For anyone who is considering buying this game, please do. I don't think I've had a story touch my heart and mind like this for a long time. And that goes without mentioning the stunning visuals and entertaining battle system. (Be careful, though, because this game handles heavy topics regarding mental health)

If you're still hung up on buying it but are curious, there is a free demo on Steam if you like to try.

Thank you, @insertdisc5, for this gem of a game. I will be turning it around in my head like a microwaveable gourmet meal for months to come.

Technically the illustration has no spoilers (unless you count Siffrin having a good nap as a spoiler). But I will be going into heavy spoiler territory under the keep reading since I need to get my thoughts on this game off my chest.

And a monochrome version because you know me, I can't help myself. Even in black and white art pieces, I will put in some colour.

And a very tiny Loop

Initially, I was going to do a piece with a theatre stage and the cast (Siffrin, Mirabelle, Isabeau, Odile, Bonnie and the head house maiden) taking a bow and finally leaving the spectacle to a life not controlled by a script and Wish Craft. But it was more fitting to put my feelings into creating a peaceful scene. Like, oof, I needed this very badly. I used sepia to make the painting warmer and added some more details like headcanons. The stars/colours might be remnants of Siffrin's transformation. Or maybe they were always there, but he never paid attention to it. Who knows.

I'm going to keep this brief. Otherwise, this post will take way too long.

I adore Siff's character. It's perfect for a game and narrative such as this. I saw a post not long ago on Tumblr going into depth about how their role as the rogue and not the hero works so well, so I won't linger on it for long. But how they would rather listen and fade into the background perfectly aligns with the player's experience of being the silent observer. (And the nodding off that changes into zoning out. It took me way too long to realise that small but essential narrative change) Oh, and the portrait change! It flew over my head until I was staring at the game menu. I was so confident Siffrin had a mischievous grin and not a frown. I always feel slightly surprised when the party asks for Siff's opinion or mentions that they have been too quiet. I felt Siffrin's excitement like my own when he got excited at finding clues to end the nightmare they were in. So I knew it would end up falling on their face because they were too excited. I just had this bad gut feeling the whole time during Act 4.

And oh boy, speaking off acts. I thought it would have been the standard 3. Boy, I was wrong. Whenever I felt I was nearing the end, I was thrown back at the start with more mysteries than answers. It made exploring the game intriguing since there is almost no information about it online (at the time of writing this post). There is the Discord, but I didn't know about it until I finished it.

This game has a lot of secrets, and I had a lot of fun uncovering them. The looping mechanic works so well in discovering little details and further leads. (even though my stubborn arse kept trying to do everything in the least amount of loops as possible. I thought the ending would be different if I exceeded a 100. My final number is 59. I am still not sure if I should be mad about it not being a rounded number like 60 or that I went over the 50 threshold)

However, it is a good thing that only some mysteries were solved. Like, what's up with colours in this world? Everyone sees in black and white, and the idea of shades and colours is only spoken of in scientific studies. They do exist and are not a part of the disaster that happened to Siffrin and their land. But there is definitely something mysterious about it. I adore how the dialogue reflects this, as the characters do not speak of shades or colours. Isabeau expresses surprise to see a streak of red colouring the sky in Act 6. It makes you think about how colour is perceived and how you describe it. (The lore inside this game is immaculate. I eat this shit up)

We never find out the name of the country north of Vanguard or what it was like. We can only infer that the beaches had black sand, with shells that shine like stars, high-reaching mountains, forests and plains. Which is vague and yet intriguing enough to make you wonder. It connected me to Siff and King because I also wanted to know. I was desperate to know. I needed to know. But in the end, we never will know because that is not the story's point. Siffrin even says in the game, that King should let go because he is hurting everyone and everything, including himself, in his desperation to preserve Vanguard. This is all the more ironic when Siff accidentally does the same with his family and the loops. I might gush more about what the country might be like and their technology in another post. This game makes me want to theorise. This is the first time I've wanted to write and post theories. ISAT fucked me up good.

Which, by the way, was genius. Siffrin and King are mirrors of each other. Siff does not have King's disastrous ambition, but their love/obsession will be the downfall of both of them. They have more than being each other's countrymen in common, and I imagine Siff despises that.

I love the fact King's question to Siffrin before the showdown was/could never be answered. Usually, in a game such as this, you must figure out how to solve everything, especially for the big bad. But that was never the goal. King is a delusional monster who will not stop before achieving his dream. He will raze everything to the ground and hurt many people because he must succeed. It is what he desires. Nay, the universe wills it. What a witless excuse that can easily be made into someone's truth. Especially to somebody who is driven mad with grief.

How King's character's done is so excellent. Because, at first, I wasn't scared of him at all. He was just the big bad, and I felt nothing much but the glory of victory when Siffrin outsmarted him by looping and making sure Mirabelle learned the shield spell that would protect the party from freezing in time. But each time you fight him, you get more frustrated until Siff figures that talking to him might be fruitful. It does, but unfortunately, you and Siffrin leave yourself emotionally and mentally vulnerable. King stops being a one-dimensional villain and changes into an actual person. Someone you can sympathise with and possibly mend peace with without fighting. You and Siffrin opened his heart for a kindred spirit and got hurt.

King stopped being a monster and became human. And while monsters are wretched, humans have intent behind their cruelty. I felt so betrayed, so angry, but most of all - terrified. I felt it when Siffrin spiralled when fighting King again after their actions caused such a catastrophic turn of events for Bonnie. Every time after that, the fight with King felt tense and nerve-wracking in a dreadful way. Because even victory could not soothe the dread I felt. (The track 'It's finally over" will forever haunt me. I already feel anxious whenever it cycles to that when I listen to the playlist)

He was not, however, the final villain, even though everything that happened was King's fault. You were always your greatest enemy (or Siffrin in this case, since you are supposed to be Siffrin). I never could have guessed that the whole reason why Siffrin could not escape the loops was because Siff accidentally wished to never let go of their friends. This reminds me of Modaka Magica, where (spoilers for the OG anime) Homura goes back in time so much that the universe ties itself around Modoka, making her a waiting egg whose wish and magic will be massive when she becomes a magical girl. The one thing Homura was trying to prevent.

(Siffrin and Homura are identical in that sense. Shy characters who are loyal to a fault but are rendered into something cold, bitter and cutting by their traumatic experiences. Only Siff has people who care about them and would do anything to save him, too, whereas Homura never lets go, making the world a worse place to live in. Yes, I did go into doomed Yuri. That anime lived in my mind rent-free in my mind for years)

The Head House-maiden not being the villain was also a great touch. I am used to the apparent antagonist turning out not to be the big bad and the trusted, friendly character ending up being the evil one. Twist villains no longer work when everyone expects them to be villains.

That was my biggest theory as I played. The second biggest being that Loop is someone who enjoys Siffrin's suffering. I am so glad that was also not the case. They are apathetic but not cruel. Never intentionally, anyway. They were like the player, urging Siffrin to go deeper into the mystery to solve it. Ultimately, I chose and made cold and cruel decisions simply because I wanted to see what would happen. So yeah, I warmed up to this cosmic star thing as the game went on and even started trusting them. Act 5 really is a punch in the gut. I am so sorry, Loop. Thank you for coming through in the end.

Oh man, this is so long, and I haven't even gone into the main cast. I will leave that for another post. They are such great characters, as are the people of Dormant and the House. (Don't think I don't see the wordplay in this game. Very clever)

Going into this game completely blind was the best experience I could have had. I felt anxious, happy and scared so severely that my neurons were rearranged. I don't know if there are more endings (aside from the obvious action of attacking Odile in the True(?) ending of the game), but I am taking a break from it to make art and write for this game before I dive back into despair-o-land.

Anywho, thank you for coming this far and reading my ramblings. Have a fantastic day or evening further! o(*'▽`*)ブ

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abstractfrog · 3 months ago

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HI I JUST SAW YOUR INCREDIBLE SHERLOCK AND CO COMIC YOU MADE AND I WOULD LOVE FOR YOU TO TALK ABOUT THE PROCESS AND THE SYMBOLISM AND INTRICACIES AND EVERYTHING PLEASE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

GOD THANK U ok if i actually talked about EVERYTHING i would be here forever and ever, there were things about the process where it kept surprising me and i kept adding stuff.

I talk about my general comic process here , it started out mostly the same for this one. Analysis of the script, sketches, panel and colour blocking

The scene from Mr Sherlock Holmes presented me with a unique challenge (for me) because...usually I pick scenes from the podcast that are instantly visually stimulating. This scene is NOT that. It's sort of unclear and confusing and even the emotive narrative is sort of hard to pick out. Those things I had to sort of decide for myself. It's hard to draw a whole scene like this without first deciding what the scene is about, what its purpose is. If you go back and listen to the episode along with the comic you'll notice all sorts of changes and tonal shifts - that's because of me and my decision making.

I decided that the direction I wanted to go in was to show John having his realization about himself, his podcast, and Sherlock, showing him getting pulled into, yes, Sherlock's world, but also the world of the podcast as an adaptation. I knew i could do this just with colour, but if you've seen my other comics, you know i almost always use colour to show shifts. I guess I had some insecurity about doing the same thing over and over again so I pushed myself to think of other ways I could accomplish it visual. Enter: rendering technique

I will say I didn't expect this effect to make John seem so SAD and MISERABLE, i only wanted to show him getting pulled in, but its effective for his emotions in this scene as well. Scanning drawings into the computer sort of flattens the paper texture, so I started adding photos of the pages of A Study in Scarlet to make him feel more paper-y. And then, of course, realised i could use that to further elaborate on John's inner thoughts, backgrounds, and motivations. People are welcome to interpreted that how they like and i've seen a number of variations, but to me it operates on sort of a meta level, showing the inevitability of what John is going through. He's a Watson, he's always going to follow Holmes, he's going to try and figure him out, and that's why you sort of see a back and forth between acd and pod Watson, highlighting the ways in which they are similar, and then, John breaks off and becomes his own character, still with those foundations but also entirely different.

there's one piece of text that i haven't seen anyone pick up on or mention and I'm starting to think it's gone unnoticed because it's in an unexpected spot. I won't mention what or where because it is, for now, a very indulgent little secret.

I notice a lot of people are getting a kick out of Sherlock playing with the speech bubbles, which I am so pleased by because I almost didn't do it! I thought i was maybe breaking something in the comic but it was so fun that i didn't care and I'm so glad it came across well. It operates on a lot of levels, it shows his thought process, it plays into that fourth-wall medium play i've got going on, and it feeds into the web metaphor as well as visually showing him roping John in.

on the topic of Sherlock, I feel a lot of people are rather focused on John, which is understandable (he's the main event) but Sherlock has a lot of details I love too.

For instance, him pushing his hair back and putting on a coat when the officer arrives, almost like he's shifted modes, and then his hair falling back down when he gets excited and John starts to understand.

I really love this moment of Sherlock seeing John's potential for interest in mysteries when he's trying to solve the matter of what Sherlock Does, and being surprised and flattered for a moment (until John messes it up again)

John copying Sherlock's pose <3

There's deliberate things in the character design as well, things like the fact that once John comes into colour, it reveals that he's actually wearing more colour than anyone else in the scene, and the fact that the grey in John's hair only appears post-greyscale. Things you are welcome to read into. And there are, of course, the socks, which I've seen people pick up on.

Those are the main things for now so i might leave it there, but thank you so much for your ask and i'd be pleased to elaborate further on absolutely anything!

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #thankuuuu i lvoe yapppingggg #seeing people pick it apart has been so satisfying and validating im so pleased with how it turned out and how people are reacting to it

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diamondchili · 4 months ago

Text

despite not being very far into ooo i've seen ankh's full greeed form, and tbh i kinda hate it,, so i redesigned him!! feat. some doodles of him not clinically posed and symmetrical :p

character design is a true passion of mine, so i infodumped broke down my process below the cut!! do note i'm not approaching this as someone who would have to consider fight choreo and stunts and whatnot. just a disclaimer lol

id in alt text as always! <3

The thing i immediately hated was how human-like his face looked?? or at least his mouth. yuck. while i get wanting to set Ankh apart from the other greeeds, there's a difference between uniqueness and breaking the rules of design you've put in place for a set of characters. Uva, for instance, has a very bug-like face, whereas Mezool has almost no face thanks to the orca's mouth framing it. That means there's two major ways for a greeed's face to look, and i think where they went wrong was trying to do something entirely different for ankh.

i kindof get what they were going for by making the bird face frame Ankh's *real* face, but imo they added too much detail to both. if youre making the big face's mouth frame the actual face, don't give the actual face a mouth lol, it crowds the design too much and looks confusing. Plus, he's a suit character, he doesn't exactly need a mouth to talk from!! So for this redesign, i made both faces much more simple and gave the primary face a sortof stand-in mouth.

Next thing was the hair. why, why, WHY on EARTH does the hair on Ankh's full form not match the hair he gives the people he possesses?!?!?!? that was the first visual hint we get as to Ankh's full appearance when he changes Shingo's physical attributes upon possessing him, and when he possesses Eiji it does the same swoopy thing. so. i made my design have hair that does that. this is basic shit yall come on 😭

Then i saw the dinky lil drab half-cape they gave him and i said oh no. oh honey. this is a BIRD. you've Gotta give him more drama than that. i kept the black to break up the ocean of red in the design (and i'll admit it is still a little red-heavy up top), but since he is a bird-based character with a triad color scheme, i made the back of it have that gradient. the tatoba/traffic-light/analogous color pattern is repeated all over the suit in Ankh's canon design, and i did want to stick to that so he's still recognizable as the same character.

Speaking of sticking to canon, i actually think the chest piece and waist armor is the only thing i didn't majorly change. i simplified the color placement, but tbh that can be chocked up to the quick-and-dirty art style i did for this, i was mostly just feeling the design out. But i did include the gradients down the chest, again to break up the red. not sure if i like it if i'm 100% honest-- it doesn't quite line up the way i want. The only other thing i added here were the bird claw pauldrons, mostly to make him match Uva bc i LOVE Uva's weird bug leg pauldrons, and I love when design elements are repeated across different characters in unique ways. not sure if you can really see them under his fluffy feather cape, but oh well

I kept the thigh pieces fairly simple, omitting the green from the gradient as it's present on the loincloth-like piece just between them. For the kneepads, i repeated the flying bird motif on the iconic forearm armor, because it's such a fun element and is the first thing we see of Ankh, so i knew repeating it somewhere on the design was essential, even if it didnt match exactly. i see they did this on the canon design, but the shape was just too different to solidify it. it weirdly looks like a face? and again this isn't practical suit design-- i'm sure having kneepads in this shape would Not Work from a stunts standpoint.

Lastly, i don't have much to say about the shoepieces honestly? Aside from the fact that in Ankh's canon greeed form his bird claws more resemble owl feet. which. i guess isn't incorrect? they're still bird themed. just looks odd with the tropical bird everything else. So i just made them a bit daintier lol. kinda wish i'd kept the green painted nails tho, thats cute.

ANYWAYS if you read this far, thank you!! i love getting to analyze character design-- what works, what doesn't, all that!! so this was a lot of fun. whether you agree or disagree with my decisions, i hope you enjoyed seeing my art and reading my ramblings!! <3

#kamen rider #kamen rider fanart #kamen rider ooo #kr ooo #ankh (ooo)#redesign #character redesign #character design #tokusatsu #toku #my art #fanart

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sisusquid · 4 months ago

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The Übersaw build breakdown, Part 1: (enjoy!)

Note: I'm more than happy to answer any and all questions about this build. Want me to breakdown a specific step or detail, please ask!

From top reference, to bottom complete, this build was a challenge from start to finish and required me to learn a ton of new skills, and reach out to a variety of people for help/advice/brainstorming! But when I decided I was finally going to make my dream cosplay of Medic, I knew this is the saw I wanted to make along with it.

Every piece was made from scratch, and includes sintra, pla 3d printing, resin printing, acrylic tubes, a straw, bondo, E6000, hex bolts, led ring light, arduino trinket, metal switch, aaa battery pack, misc. wiring, spray paint, acrylic paint, and a whole lot of sanding sanding sanding!

I always wanted to stay as true to the original design as possible, but knew adjustments would have to be made, moving a model from a game to real life. Some details I wanted to keep a true as possible, such as the base shape and size. Some aspects were modified deliberately to fit better with the overall aesthetic of the specific version of Medic I was creating; such as smoothing out the edges of the handle, rather than keeping them sharp like in the game. (Something that would make it more realistic overall, a goal I kept in mind through every piece of the costume.)

One such change was adding liquid to the Übersaw core and an led light that pulses red. Looking at the base design, and the color palette the original creators used, they intrinsically translated in my mind to "liquid" and "light" rather than just a flat color. Thinking about Medic and his designs, I figured an ominous, pulsing red would be perfect for when the Übersaw was fully charged. (Plus it would look really cool, so... that definitely influenced my decisions!)

I mixed up a concoction of distilled water, red and silver mica powder, and filled an acrylic tube with the mixture. There's actually two tubes, the smaller inside one helps reduce water weight on this already hefty prop.

Of course, these changes also meant I needed to learning how to code an arduino trinket (which ended up being a lot of fun!), and create a special holder at the base of the Übersaw to hold the ring light, trinket, switch, battery pack and wiring. Not to mention it had to be accessible so I could change the batteries out when needed. That's when it was time to ask for help from some talented friends!

Here's what the resulting holder ended up looking like! (Not pictured is the ring the light sits on) It was 3d modeled and printed in PLA by my friend with some imput by me, but he knows so much more about this stuff I was happy to let him take the lead! The design includes hex bolts to secure the light holder to the Übersaw like a clamp, but also allows it to be opened in half for easy access to the batteries/any electronics that are having issues.

The base of the whole saw is sintra (pvc board), in many layers. The layers were then blended with Bondo and SO MUCH SANDING. After the piece looked like a cohesive whole, rather than 8 layers of plastic board, it was base coated with spraypaint and detail painted with acrylics. (I say this as though it was a simple task, but the spraypaint fought me every step of the way, had to be constantly re-sanded, and some layers refused to dry at all and had to be varnished to remove the tackiness. It was a trial to be sure!)

But after all was said and done, it was finally time for detail painting: My favorite part of any project! (Continued in part 2)

#cosplay #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 medic #medic #ubersaw #cosplay wip #sisu squid stuff #tf2 cosplay #tutorial

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darnell-la · 2 years ago

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Hey! So I got a sad one. So basically you went to the beach with Jj and you were on the sand and these group of girls came up to you saying stuff abt you body and calling you fat. So y/n went home. With out telling jj. When she got home she started crying a lot but Jj went to check on her. And comfort her.

Hey!! We're sorry if this story wasn't exactly what you were looking for. If you're disappointed, please send another request and explain in detail? Other than that, thank you for your request, Luv <3

word count: 2.2k

paring: JJ Maybank x Chubby!Reader

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Y/n's pov

"You'll be fine, y/n, okay? It's just a party with a bunch of drunk teenagers. Nothings gonna happen. Besides, Topper and Rafe aren't here," JJ said as he and I walked on the property of this girl who invited him.

"I know, it's just, they didn't invite me and I know how these people get. Especially the Kook girls to Pogue girls," I said as he stopped in front of me.

"As long as I'm around you, I won't let them say shit to you, okay? We're best friends. I wouldn't let that slide," he said, placing a smile on my face.

"Okay, fine. But only for a couple of hours," I said as he rolled his eyes with a sigh. "No, no, we have to stay longer," he said. "Please," he kept repeating until I finally gave in. "Fine! Fine! Goddamnit," I said making him jump.

"Let's go!" He celebrated as he pulled me towards the front of the house. This place is packed and we're only outside. I can already see a few people eying us because we're probably the only Pogues here. JJ's use to ignoring people but I'm still not.

As I and JJ walked through the crowded house, I could hear people talking about us. They probably wouldn't have noticed me if I came alone but because JJ's so known, making us easy to spot.

"Hey! JJ, right?" A girl asked as she made her way towards us. "Yeah! Hey, Claire," JJ said, trying to put on his flirting voice. I came here to back him up, just in case he feels some way if she drops him last second. And he also wanted me to come and get out of my house for once.

"And you are?" The girl asked me. I could tell she wasn't happy with me being here, by the slight change in her tone and facial expression.

"Scotlyn," I said. "My best friend," JJ added as he pulled me into his side by my waist. I wish he would feel a spark when he touches me like this.

"Mhm, well, is it fine if I steal him from you real quick?" Claire asked as she pulled JJ away from me and wrapped her arm around his. Now they're locked and he has a smile on his face. At least he can be happy.

“No, no, it’s fine,” and quickly after, Claire pulled JJ away from me before he could say something. Tonight’s gonna be a long night. I should at least make it fun.

After being at this party for about an hour, playing drinking games, and watching sports on the TV with some random dudes in the middle of the living room, I decided to take a walk on the beach which isn’t far from the house. It’s basically their backyard.

I stopped at a beach chair and placed my bag that I always carry with me, before looking around to make sure I’m the only one out here.

I sighed and began to take off my clothes. I put my bikini on before I left, hoping JJ would want to show me some tricks in the waves like usual but he was occupied.

After getting my last piece of clothing off, I began to touch my body. This is my first time in a bikini in public. It feels different.

“We’ll look at Scotlyn. Coming out of her comfort zone I see. What made you buy that Bikini? Cause I know it’s not for my best friend’s man. Or is it?” A girl I do not know asked.

“Who’s man? Who even are you?” I asked her. “We’re Claire’s friend and she sent us here to make sure you weren’t setting up some picnic after she got into JJ’s pants,” she said, making my eyes widen.

JJ Maybank is no stranger to the sex life but he also doesn’t like being used and by the way that sentence sounds, getting in his pants is a term he wouldn’t like.

“Where is he?” I asked as I went to pass them but one of the girls pushed me back. “Probably doing what Claire wants. Why does it matter? You like him or something?” The first girl asked as she laughed and pushed me to the sandy ground.

“No! He’s- He’s just my best friend and your tramp bestie isn’t going to ruin him!” I yelled as I got up. I went to run past them but another one grabbed my hair and pushed me to the sandy ground again.

“Oh, save that shit. He’d rather be broken than see that walk in on him,” one of them said, reminding me that I was in my bikini. I know I’m a bit thick but I have a good shape. Well, that’s what JJ says.

“By the time you get up, you wouldn’t have the energy to run to him, yet walk,” another one said, causing my eyes to tear up. “Don’t cry, we’re just telling you the truth. Not being mean or anything,” the first one laughed.

I quickly got up and took off, leaving everything behind. Even JJ. He’ll be fine. He’s probably having more fun than he’s ever had with me and I don’t want to ruin it for him. I need to move on…

JJ Maybank’s pov

“Claire, I’m not really in the mood tonight,” I lied as she tried rubbing all over my body. She’s been giving me the ick ever since she came up to me and y/n earlier.

I thought that maybe if I hung out with her for a little bit, she’d be different or I’d understand her more but it actually has gotten worse and all I want to be around is y/n.

Maybe I should just ask her out since she’s the only girl I ever feel comfortable and happy around. Everyone else is off. Way off and I never feel that feeling when I’m with y/n. Ever.

“What are you talking about,” Claire asked in a tone I haven’t heard tonight. “I just really need to get back to y/n and-“ I tried apologizing but she cut me off.

“Are you serious!? With that fat bitch!?” She angrily said, causing me to push her off of me and stand up from her bed. “Woah, don’t say that shit about her,” I got defensive.

“Why? It’s true! Why would you choose her over me? That makes no sense at all,” she said, making me shake my head with a disgusting look on my face. These’s Kooks are all the same.

“Delete my number,” I said then walked out of her room. She yelled a last “Already done!” before I slammed her room door, hoping her handle or anything would break.

I searched the whole party to find y/n but she’s not here. I quickly ran out to the backyard and down the beach, but she was not there either.

I ran across a beach chair with a bag on it and clothes. They belong to y/n. Shit. I yelled as I made my way into the water with all my clothes and shoes on.

What if she went for a swim and drowned or got taken out by the waves. I know for a fact that she can’t swim in waves. She’s not experienced enough. Fuck!!

I swam around for a while until I got tired and cried my way out of the beach. My tears began streaming down my face as I yelled her name. Why did I leave her?

“Chill out. She ran home,” some girl said. I looked up to see a girl and a few of her friends behind her. They look familiar. “How was the time with Claire?” One asked. They’re her friends.

“Where did she run?” I asked, ignoring her question. “I don’t know. Home,” one laughed. “Why would she run home?” I asked, confused as they laughed.

“We explained and told her the truth about you now wanting her. Maybe if she lost a bit of, you know, fat, she’d maybe have a chance,” a girl said.

That’s when my eyes widen, knowing they bullied her into running away. They used my name, to make it seem like she’s not my best friend and that I care about that shit. I don’t. I’m in love with her and the way she looks.

I quickly ran to y/n’s bag and threw her close into her bag before talking off towards my car so I can run to her house and tell her that all of this was a big miss understanding and that I don’t care about how she looked. She looks beautiful to me.

“Y/n!” I yelled through y/n’s small house, hoping she’d be here. I can’t leave her alone in times like this. I’ve never seen her emotional but if she ran all the way home, she’s definitely feeling some type of way about those girls comments.

“Y/n, where are you? Just talk to me,” I said and finally opened her guest room to find her curled up on the bed. “Y/n…” I said as I walked through the door frame slowly.

That’s when she shot her head up quickly, allowing me to see her red and glossy eyes. She tried covering herself up as she asked what I was doing here at her house.

“Your bag,” I said as I placed her bag on the floor and made my way over to the side of the bed. “Oh, okay. Well, uh, thank you. See you tomorrow,” she tried covering her face by turning to the side but I softly grabbed her wrist and turned her back towards me.

“What did they say to you, y/n?” I asked. “Who?” She asked, knowing exactly who. “You know who, y/n. Tell me everything they said and I’ll handle it. You know I will,” I said, making her shake her head.

“Oh, the girls? Oh, yeah, they didn’t say anything. Yeah, they just- I just forgot my bag, that’s all,” she lied to me as she sniffed and wiped some tears but they keep coming back.

“Y/n, don’t lie to me! I’m not fucking around. What did they say!?” I asked with a louder tone, getting angry at anything they could have said to her. I know how people treat her and it’s not nice at all. She doesn’t deserve that.

Y/n looked me in my eyes then turned back around and began to cry after curling up. Fuck, I didn’t mean to make her cry.

“No, no, no, y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so rude, I just- Baby, I just wanted to know,” I said but she kept crying. I ran my hands through my hair, stressed.

“Shit,” I said as quickly took my clothes off, as well as my boots, and ran to her drawer. I keep spare clothes heard since I’m always over. Day and night.

I change into the clothes then crawled onto her bed and pulled her into my chest. She let me in by pulling me into her and crying into my chest as I rest my head on her forehead and whispered to her.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. Don’t let whatever they said, get to you. It’s not true. No matter what they said, it’s not true,” I tried talking her down.

“A-Am I’m pretty to you?” She stuttered as she tried to control her crying. “What? Yes! Yes, of course, you are. I swear I’m not saying that because you’re my best friend,” I said hoping she’s believing.

“But I’m your friend, so, of course, I’m pretty to you,” she cried again. “Y/n, even passed friendship, you’re beyond pretty to me. You’re beautiful. Gorgeous. You’re just so much,” I said.

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Shit, I still do, it’s just, we’re best friends and I can’t ruin that, you know?” I said, nothing about what I just confessed to. Shit.

“Y-You have a crush on me?” She asked. “No, nah! Well- Fuck, yes, I do. I really do,” I said, not able to control myself. I had to get it out. I can’t keep things like this in anymore. I can’t hide it. It’s so hard.

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” she said as she looked up at me. “Yeah, I tried keeping it a secret but- Y/n, you’re so fucking perfect. I can’t keep shit like that from you. You need to know this stuff. You need to know how beautiful you are,” I said, making her eyes brighten up. I can see her blushing.

“Okay,” she giggled low as she buried her face into my chest again but this time, she’s not crying. “Yeah, I love you,” I awkwardly said with a slight laugh.

“I love you too,” she said back, making me smile hard. It’s not hard to see that she does. I should have said this earlier in life, but at least she knows now.

At least she’ll know how much I adore her when I talk to her about us tomorrow because there’s no way I’m leaving this house without me being able to call her mine.

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #obx fic #obx jj #obx smut #obx jj maybank #obx fanfiction #outer banks jj #outer banks smut #outer banks #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x cubby!reader

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