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#but i'm always surprised when i get asks like this asking me to tag things or asking about a thing im enjoying
pencap · 6 months
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#sylvie speaks#(in the tags because this isn't a complete enough though to make a proper post out of)#(and i will probably delete it anyway)#i am having Thoughts about creating and sharing and credit#and what it means to be a creator on the internet#(as much as that term has become loaded now)#i have mostly accepted that i do not get to control what people do with my words once i post them in a public forum#i will ask and i will request and i will trust in the goodness of strangers#but there will always be some people acting in ignorance or malice#and really when it comes to things like gifsets and fics and such i am so so happy for people to use them#even if it's for a fandom/media/ship that i might personally dislike or find uncomfy or some such thing#because it inspired and someone found meaning in my words and that is. all i can ever really ask#and they tend to be well credited anyway#and even if they aren't i think most people recognize that the quotes probably came from someone else#i'm not even as upset about poems floating around wholesale uncredited#(i'd have a personal vendetta the size of the pacific ocean against pinterest if i did)#but when it becomes credited to someone else#or when someone else claims credit for it#that... that does upset me in ways i find hard to articulate#and takes me by surprise in its stark contrast to how little i care about the other kinds of usage#i think it's about ownership perhaps#it is one thing to let something go#it is another thing entire for someone else to take it for themselves#it is mine; or it was; and i don't mind sharing i really don't#you don't even have to say thank you or tell me you're using it or even say it's mine#(though i much much much prefer that you do)#but it feels deeply violating for someone else to slap their name on it#i am perhaps slightly more bitter about this than usual#bc i recently discovered another piece of blatant plagiarism#that isn't worth pursuing but it does make me sad
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neversetyoufree · 1 year
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Hello, just wanted to say (regarding the doomed by the narrative poll) that according to my skimming the person in charge of the tournament can reblog your propaganda if you tag them on it ! Thought I would let you know in case you're interested. Have a good day !
Lmao yeah I saw that, but I am purposely not tagging them. Op of that poll seems a bit sensitive about people criticizing characters/saying "x character shouldn't win," and I'm not sure my response would pass their vibe check.
I love Scum Villain! I love Luo Binghe! I totally get why he's a contender here. PIDW Binghe was absolutely doomed by his narrative. It's just that Vanitas does not have an alternate universe self that gets un-doomed. You cannot be more doomed than Vanitas.
But anyway, though I certainly don't intend to dunk on Binghe, the fact that I did say "Binghe doesn't compare to Vani" rather than just "Vani should win" makes me suspect that the doomed character op might respond to me poorly.
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daincrediblegg · 25 days
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no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
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chilumi-shipper · 11 months
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From Me, For You
Childe x GN!Reader / Alhaitham x GN!Reader
Summary: You love creating something special for them, it's your love language to say the least, it's the way you show love for them. But at some point, it seems like they stopped caring for the things you make, and in a moment where the stress was getting to them, they even said something so hurtful about your favorite thing to do for them.
Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt with Comfort, Crying, Childe coming home with blood covering him, Hurtful Comments
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Childe
Your relationship with him is... surprising, to say the least.
You're just a baker in Liyue that happened to sell one of the best Shezhnayan pastries that a certain homesick Harbinger was really craving. One thing led to another, and now you're in love and in a relationship with a Fatui Harbinger.
It's not like you didn't try your damn hardest not to fall for his charms, but seeing him eat the pastries you make and jokingly sob about his home, with the pastry's filling staining the corners of his lip, it just touched your heart.
But you forgot for a bit... he's a Harbinger...
He's not always gonna be the Ajax that taste test your baked goods every other day and would give the biggest smile with the usual comment of "Everything is perfect! You're perfect!"
And that's increasingly becoming more prominent.
You looked at the Shezhnayan baking book intently, making sure you follow the way of making a local pastry filling to a T. This is very important to you, your boyfriend's birthday is just around the corner, and you really really wanted to give him a taste of home since he wouldn't be able to make it back to his home nation.
You have to make sure to not screw up, so you're practicing early on.
The sound of your front door opening perked your ears up, making you put down the bowl of filling you were working on and skip on to your living room.
"Jax!" You affectionately called for him before you could even see him clearly.
The sight that greeted you, however, promptly stopped you from jumping at him for a hug.
Blood...
Whether his or someone else's, it mortified you. You were speechless.
"What...?" Childe scoffed at the sight of your shocked expression. "This is what being a Harbinger is." He looked down at his soiled clothes, feeling rather uncomfortable. "You should get used to this, babe."
The usual warmth of his presence in your house changed into an atmosphere that made you sick to the stomach.
"Please..." You started, your heart beating rapidly and your voice laced with disbelief. "Wash up... I..." After such a sight, could you really ask him to taste test one of your many endeavors in baking again?
This man... this Harbinger... he wasn't the Ajax you wished to see. But that's still him, just not the version he made you become privy to.
However, after so many days and nights that he showed up like... that, you got used to it, got used to the slow uprising of a worse version of him, the version of him that didn't give a fuck about what brought you together in the first place, the version of him that no longer accepted welcoming hugs and kisses, the version of him that made you feel so... worthless.
"Are you baking again? I know it's your job and all, but could you like... just not bring it home?" The ginger said that one time, rather hypocritically considering that he brought that terrible attitude from his job to your home.
"I'm working on something important..." You excused his rather hurtful words, you were rather sensitive when someone mentions something negative to you about the hobby that made you so happy. "Can you try it and tell me what you think?"
"Not in the mood." You knew that he was rather tired from taking care of something for his job, but that dismissive tone made your heart ache... and just when you think you've finally perfected his childhood favorite treat.
A moment of silence fills the room before a quiet "Please..." escapes you in a very hesitant tone. You worked so hard... finding an actual Snezhnayan baking book with local recipes, practicing over and over to make it perfect, even making sure to add your own little touch that compliments the taste.
Maybe you shouldn't have said that, otherwise, he wouldn't have stood up from the couch to face your smaller figure holding onto the tray of baked goods, looking up at his looming figure.
"You know, Y/N..." Your breathing already became heavy at the cold call of your name. "There are so many more useful things you could do than bake all day. This..." A gasp escaped your mouth when he grabbed the tray from your hands and threw it down on the kitchen island.
"This is just worthless."
Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, and you could no longer hold in the sob in your throat, as you started crying pathetically right in front of him. You whimpered as you tried to control your falling tears and your harsh breathing.
You couldn't say anything back, your cheeks and nose only reddening at the rapid emotion that's escaping you. No longer being able to handle being right in front of him, you ran up to your room, closing the door and face planting on the bed, muffling your cries with the sheets.
Back downstairs, Childe was still processing everything.
"There's nothing to process, you are a dick." His inner self told him, and he completely agrees as he sighs, dragging his fingers along his ginger hair in frustration in himself.
Why did he do that? Why did he say those hurtful things? Why did he treat you like you were one of his targets that he was assigned to manipulate?
Work got to him, it has been for weeks, but it was no excuse. He brought a monster he couldn't control into your house, and now... you were hurt.
His blue eyes darted to the pastries he haphazardly threw on the counter, most were still on the tray, in a mess and no longer in a firm order in which you like to arranger your treats.
A realization hit him... they look a lot like...
Childe then remembered the look on your face when you whispered a plea. Your eyes were hopeful when he stood up, and then your body shook when you realized he wasn't intending on tasting anything.
A memory flashed in his mind, even intensifying when he picked up a treat and bit into it, a sweet, warm filling coating the inside of his mouth. It was delicious... and just like in your Y/N way, everything you make made him feel better.
His senses getting better meant the pit in his stomach got worse, the regret of going off on you consuming him more and more.
He then hurried up to your room, gently opening your door to not startle you. His heart broke at the sight of you, your face buried into your pillows, your shoulders shaking and indicating that you're crying still. He knows that after what he did, he has no right to even feel hurt at the sight of you... but he loves you! And he knows he hasn't been showing it.
Without a word, without turning around to face him, you spoke. "P-please... L-le-leave me a-alone." Your words were muffled, and you were stuttering due to the sobs you still couldn't control.
"Baby, I... I'm so sorry..." Childe knew that those words could never be enough to make you feel better, but he at least needed a chance to say his piece, even though he may not deserve it. "Work has been... it's been making me like this... but, I know I can't use that as an excuse..."
"I've been a prick..." You didn't respond to him, but your sobs did die down to little sniffles. "And I don't deserve someone like you..."
"You just made the perfect replica of one of my favorite treats, and you probably did so much for this. Archons, babe, you're amazing. And so so caring." Ajax felt tears starting to form, his vision getting cloudy as his eyes water. If you forced him to leave, he would, but he wanted to pour everything in his heart for you out, and finally finally let out the emotion he had to keep in due to his job.
"I love you so much, Y/N... for being such an amazing person that lit up my life." He walked closer to you, prompting to sit on the bed beside you. Still, you give no response. "And the fact that you love me... that... you loved me...."
"I'm so honored that you even let me be your taste tester." The ginger chuckled a bit, reveling in the sweet memory.
"And I can't fucking believe that I just hurt you like that. I'm so s-sorry, Y/N." Finally, the tears in his eyes fell, and his voice broke when he spoke.
He wasn't use to fear, but at that moment, he truly felt the fear of you rejecting him.
After a few seconds, you turned to him, and he felt even more guilty to see your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.
"C-Couch..." You whispered while pointing at him, making the ginger tilt his head in confusion. "S-Sleep on the couch." You stuttered out, and Childe immediately nodded, accepting your statement.
"A-And no more hugs and kisses, no p-pastries either." You firmly stated (as firm as your sniffly state could say at least). "For a month."
"Okay.... Yes, understood!" Childe wiped the tears on his face, answering you with determination. If that's what it took for you to forgive him, he's gonna do it with ease.
"And no coming home with b-blood on you. Please..." He got off the bed to get on his knees in front of you.
"I promise..." With many of his promises, he had an instinct to kiss your forehead as a reassurance, but you avoided his hand before he could hold your head to go in to press a kiss.
"Wait a month." You let out a strained giggle, and he smiled at how sweet it was despite his lips tingling in the anticipation of a kiss.
The whole no hugs and kisses is gonna be hard, and the no pastries means that he's not gonna get a taste of your love for an entire month!
But he will persevere, just for you.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Alhaitham
You have a knack for crafting little momentos and preserving memories by creatively incorporating moments into the trinkets that you make.
It's your favorite hobby! And you're rather proud that you can make such cute little things that don't look tacky.
Kaveh was actually pleased the very first time Alhaitham came home with a decor you made, an embroidery of an irritated dendro slime reading a thick book that he can hang on a wall. You presented it to him with all smiles, saying that that was how you saw him the first time you saw him in the House of Deana.
"Finally! You actually got something to hang up that doesn't embody your atrocious taste!" Kaveh was enthusiastic, yet still managed to diss the gray haired scholar while giving out a compliment.
The first thing you ever made for him was that embroidery. And Archon's did your heart flutter and leaped with joy when he actually accepted it. What you were expecting was a comment from him like "I think it's silly to represent me with a slime. I would say that my IQ level is much higher than those elemental lifeforms."
You were both just acquaintances when you gave him that gift, but that sparked something between you. You were smart, creative, and didn't speak to him all stiff and nervous like many of your peers. You make the atmosphere easy to be in, and Alhaitham happens to like it when things are easy for him.
You liked his company just as much, finding his calmness and straightforwardness so tranquil and refreshing, not to mention his funny smarty pants attitude. You liked him so much that you would sit by him in the Akademiya or in the library and do your handy work.
it basically progressed from that. "I enjoy being with you, and you kissed me that one time and I liked it. And I can see that you enjoy being with me too. So we're together now." He stated, and you were in shock, he's always been straightforward, but that was truly unexpected.
"Y-You haven't even... taken me out on a date yet!" That was the first thing that you thought to say, still processing everything.
Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, "You don't call this and our every other meeting a date? We are together and we're doing what we want to do." Damn it, he made a good point.
"B-But..." You stuttered, making him sigh.
"Do you not want to be with me?"
"No! I-I mean... yes... Yes! I do, but you just dropped it all out of nowhere." You argued, seriously having a love-hate relationship with his unapologetic honesty.
He ignored your comment, only choosing to hear that you want to be with him. "Good, you're my partner now."
And then... with you being you, every milestone, every special event in your relationship, you'd make something for him.
First anniversary? A custom picture frame with 12 pictures of both of you in it to remind him of the 12 months you've been together.
His birthday? A crochet little plant in a pot, the plant seemingly just sprouting.
Just a random day? Well, you got something for him anyway. :D
You love him to bits and you wanted to show them in your very own love language, crafting little gifts!
Each one, Alhaitham accepted in an uncharacteristically bashful yet still pleased manner, muttering a "Thank you..." or a "You never fail to impress me." and then you are presented with a great honor of a smile from the scribe.
Making him feel happy and warm inside (though he would never admit that he was, but he really was) by making things for him made you so happy!
You managed to fill his desk with your creations, not just decor, but some useful trinkets too! Like a functional hourglass, a lamp that he can write on, and an organizer for books because you swear that he literally just lets the books litter his office since he reads lots of them on and off, and you needed to do something about it.
The main thing is... he loves your love for creativity.
At least... that's what you thought...
But ever since he became the Acting Grand Sage...
Alhaitham has always been an honest person, never one to beat around the bush or spare anyone's feeling by keeping his opinions to himself.
And he sure has gotten colder, much more poky, probing at the weaknesses and insecurities of many scholars in an attempt to only let researches and works he finds worthy to continue. The rest shall no longer be conducted.
Apparently, that included your work.
"I don't see a use for such an object. I prefer things in my desk to be practical."
"The way you designed it is rather... silly. Far too childish to be of sensible use."
"Decors are not necessary, there's better use of your time."
You took all of his critiques, from then and now, to heart, making sure to reflect on his words to improve. But when he was still the Scribe, he at least commented on how to improve.
Now, it's like... he wants you to stop.
You're currently in the office of the Acting Grand Sage, you brought your crocheting kit with you to pass the time, hoping to just have a quiet afternoon with him while you both do your work, much like what you did in the past.
"Alhaitham, what'cha up to?" You asked innocently, still working on your crochet as you were seated on the floor. He was working on something on his desk, his brows pulled together as he frowned at the report in front of him.
That was what you usually do, ask some questions about each other's business, encourage each other if it's really stressing you out, or jab at how you could never do his work, and he would not have even a quarter of your patience to finish a craft.
This time, however, he does not grace you with a response, preserving the quietness of the room. You got the message, so you opted to keep quiet and keep on crocheting a blanket with a print that you were planning to give him, maybe a fluffy blanket will keep out his cold mood.
A few minutes later though, you don't know exactly what made him snap, you don't know why he suddenly called your name, and you don't know why he looked at you with such a frustrated look.
"Y/N, just drop it." Alhaitham suddenly blurted out to you. Making you jump and pause what you're doing.
"W-What?" You stuttered, confused and worried at the same time.
"I saw that you've been struggling on that thing for hours, can't you just move on to something more useful?" The gray haired man sighed. "You're so creative, and you're wasting your time with that." He said it like so condescendingly, that such a calm sounding comment penetrated your heart more than an actual insult could.
"I mean, look at all this." He motions to his desk. "A bunch of junk that serves no purpose. I really don't see why you need to do all this." Tears started collecting in your eyes, and you heard his words as if you're the junk that serves no purpose.
"B-But... those are all presents for... y-you." Your voice was shaking, and you could only manage to whisper. "I wanted to make them for you."
"Then perhaps it is me that don't want to receive them anymore."
And that's what got to you. What you do to show your love, what you try to do for him, he doesn't even like. So does he even love you at all?
Tears streamed down your face, and what initially started as sniffles turned into sobs that echoed around the large room. You stood up, stuffing your things into your bag before aggressively wiping your tears away, though more seem to fall anyway.
Without another word, you ran to the elevator before rushing out of the Akademiya, running back home with a broken heart. It was a miracle you didn't trip with how cloudy your vision got from the tears.
...
"What are you doing here?" Alhaitham raised a brow, seeing Kaveh in his office, sweeping everything on his desk into a large bag.
The blond architect ignored him, clearing out the desk before heading for the wall with a few of your works filled the space.
"Did Y/N make this?" Kaveh questioned, finally looking at his roommate. Alhaitham merely nodded, though even more confused when the architect took the pieces and shoved them in the bag too.
"What are you doing?"
Kaveh scoffed, shaking his head at the Acting Grand Sage's pathetic ignorance. "You don't deserve these things!" He then proceeded to glare at him. "Saying such mean things at Y/N, they did nothing wrong and you started acting like some obnoxious fucker that just wanna bring people down."
"I mean, I know you like doing that. But to Y/N?" Kaveh questioned in disbelief. "Yeah, you don't deserve any of this."
And so Alhaitham was reminded of his words from yesterday, as well as you're crying face as you ran out of his office. He (rather stupidly) thought that you'd get over the comments, after all, you didn't mind his critiques from before.
"I wanted to make them for you." He remembers what you said, all the things Kaveh had in the large bag were for him. You wanted to make those for him.
You made them because... you love him...
And he fucked up.
Kaveh was done with his sweep, leaving him in a eerily empty room, free of everything that made it a bearable to work in. He hated the office of the Grand Sage, but your presence, the presence of your creations... made it that much better.
He had to fix this.
...
You heard knocking at your door, but after looking at the peephole and seeing a gray haired scholar for the fifth time that day, you didn't bother opening the door.
"Darling?" You ignored the endearment muffled by the wall separating the both of you.
On the other side, Alhaitham sighed before resting his head on your door. He's been trying to talk to you properly for five hours, but he didn't just want to say what he wanted to at your door, risking you not hearing what he has to say for himself.
"Listen, Y/N, I'll just be here... working." He didn't leave just yet. "You can join me, if you want. Just like before."
He sat back down on the bench that was right in front of your house. He brought the work he has to get done with him, and trying to swallow down the guilt yet again, he proceeded to work into the well hours of the night before leaving with yet another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you.
For many days, it was like that, he stayed outside your home. Whenever you needed to go out, you ignored him, even if he followed you, even if he tried to talk to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.
"I think this type of yarn would be good for structure." Alhaitham held a roll of yarn in his hand, looking you and anticipating a response.
Though you said nothing, you confirmed that you at least listen when you plucked up another roll of the same yarn and paid for it. He smiled a little, though you didn't wish to humor him further.
Everyday, Alhaitham would be working in front of your house, maybe knocking once in a while to check in on you. It was rather heartbreaking to see, from your window, you saw him sit there, looking like he isn't even getting work done, just staring at the reports and trying to make something of it.
And finally, it was night yet again, a particularly cold one this time around. The cold breeze as the sun sets in for the night sent goosebumps down the Acting Grand Sage's spine, but it was far too early to leave, so he didn't budge.
You don't get it, you don't want to feel sorry for him, he couldn't just say something so harsh yet act so stubborn to force you to forgive him!
But tonight... he does look rather cold, and from what you learned the days before, nothing will make him move from that bench until you let him talk to you properly.
There was a soft warmth that ingulfed Alhaitham as he was busy with his work, from his peripherals he could see the makings of a blanket, effectively shielding him from the cold.
Looking back, he saw you dressed in your pajamas, not bothering to make eye contact with him. "You looked cold." were the only words that you said to him.
Unbeknownst to him, while he was working in front of your house, you joined in on his day, finishing the blanket you were planning to give him before his outburst.
It felt like such a waste to scrap it, especially since you were half done with it already...
He stood up from the bench, looking uncharacteristically enthused at you. "Thanks..." He was looking fondly at you, but you still refused to meet his gaze.
You also noticed from watching him a bit that he wasn't really eating much throughout the day, so before you could stop yourself...
"Would you like to come in for dinner?"
...
You were quiet for most of the meal, but his ears perked at the occasional sniffles you let out, implying that you were trying not to cry. Alhaitham felt shitty for thinking he even had the right to feel bad when he was the one that caused all this.
After dinner, it was still silent, but Alhaitham proceeded to evaluate the blanket you gave him in your living room. It was crochet with, yet again, an irritated dendro slime on top of a building that resembles the Akademiya, you must have observed him and his sour mood from being the Acting Grand Sage.
"Do I get to keep this?" He asked, looking at you expectantly.
You bit your lip, anxiously twiddling your thumbs. "Umm... It's... not of much use." You replied, earning a sigh from him.
With your comment, Alhaitham made his way right in front of you, making it perfectly clear for him see that tears have started to fall from your eyes. "I-I think... it would be best if you g-go now."
You were looking down, still trying to cover your face despite knowing that he knew you were crying.
"Would it be okay if I talk to you properly first?" Something in you wanted him to leave because you thought that he deserved it, but you still wanted answers. Why did he say all those mean things to you? Why did he hate what you make so much? Why was he persistently outside your house all the time to persuade you to finally talk to him?
You didn't answer, but didn't motion at all for him to leave, so he took his chance before it was too late. "There's nothing I love more in the world than you. And to lash out on you for doing something you love was absolutely idiotic of me."
He took your hands in his, "I hated being the Grand Sage, I hated having to deal with the shit I don't care about. That hate just continued to build up, and I... you were the one that unfairly received it all."
"You didn't deserve any of that. And I know I can't use being stressed as an excuse for hurting you, that was my own stupid act. But I am truly sorry."
"I-I would have stopped making things for you if you hated them so much." You finally looked up at him with wet doe eyes, effectively clenching his heart even more.
"No, no, darling... I love what you make, every single one. Because I know that making them makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy." He lets go of one of your hands to wipe your tears away. "I'm so sorry about everything I said, darling. The moment Kaveh took everything from my office, I realized how empty it was... without you..."
"He did that?" You asked in disbelief, your question laced with a strained chuckle. He nodded, a pout forming on his face.
"Yeah, and I realized how terrible it was..."
You laughed, though your cheeks were still stained by dried tears. "Do you like the blanket I made you?" You asked him, and he gave you a rare genuine smile.
"I love it, you're a star for making it for me." He closed the gap between the both of you, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace.
"I love everything you gift me. I love you..." He whispered as he hugged you warmly.
"Even the plushie on your desk that doesn't do anything and always falls over?"
"Even that..." Your heart fluttered, your body cuddling with his to receive more of his warmth.
"Okay..." You responded, smiling against him. "You can tell Kaveh to stop keeping my gifts hostage..."
...
"There's somethings missing..." Alhaitham gave Kaveh a pointed look, making his blond roommate scoff.
"Well, everything I took I brought back here! If you lost a few things then that's you're fault!" Kaveh has always been a big fan of your crafts, and Alhaitham has a gut feeling that he liked a few things that he took.
The gray haired scholar merely raised a brow, making Kaveh sigh dramatically.
"Fine! But I'm keeping the plushie!" He left before Alhaitham could argue with him, leaving him only to sigh.
Your giggle occupied the room for a bit. "I'll tell him I can make one for him."
"Alright, but I'll appreciate if his isn't as cute as mine. Thanks." He said, and though you know he's joking, he still had that stoic face that makes you laugh when he says those unserious things.
"I'll keep that in mind."
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
This is like almost 20k words, so I really hope that you guys liked it :D
It's been a while, (as always with my writing, but it's summer, so apart from work, I've been pretty free to write, which makes me really happy) enjoy!
6K notes · View notes
joonipertree · 6 months
Text
Sugar Daddy Boxer! Bakugo Katsuki x college student gn!reader
Tags: Age gap! Bakugo is 27, reader is 22. fluff, protective bakugo, attentive bakugo, he's a boxer because I said so <3
Bro i finished this with my wrist bandaged up. The things I'd do for my anime men.
Pt 2. Pt 3
Feel free to send in requests/prompts for this AU!
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"Babydoll."
....
"Babydoll."
You finally hummed, unwrapping the woollen scarf that pillowed your face. It did an amazing job to keep you warm in the cold abyss of the early morning winter but was useless in your boyfriend's heated sports car.
You let yourself unfurl, letting the warmth melt you.
"Did you sleep properly?"
"Yeah." you said with a yawn, ready to turn your brain off again.
"I'm gonna ask you how many hours and you're telling me the truth."
You made eye contact with Katsuki, who still hadn't left the front of your building mind you, and reached out for your morning kisses.
"First, answer then kisses."
You whined and squirmed before huffing into stillness when you realised he was too mean to give into you.
"Six hours."
Katsuki's already furrowed eyebrows furrowed even more but he leaned forward to kiss your puckered lips. They were warm and firm and tasted like strawberry chapstick. And the hint of your cologne wafted through you, making you sigh into him.
Katsuki tugged your lower lip into his mouth, suckling on it before letting go and kissing the corner of your lips.
"We agreed on eight, baby."
"I was doing my homework, silly."
"Was this before or after your fanfiction reading time?"
You grinned, pawing at his chest as you leaned in for another chaste kiss.
"Look at you learning, old man. It was before."
Katsuki rolled his eyes, squeezing your thigh with his rough hand before finally deciding to start the car.
"Where do you wanna get breakfast from? You're not getting a coffee, by the way."
"Excuse m---"
"Nuh uh, little one." Katsuki looked at you with an eyebrow raise. "You didn't sleep as much as you should've and it already makes you jittery."
You crossed your arms and huffed, burying yourself deeper into the leather. And you knew that you'd just say something stupid and get yourself in even more trouble, so your mouth stayed shut. Katsuki didn't bother asking again, already knowing that there was a chocolate croissant and Acai bowl that had you hooked.
He made his way into the store quickly, your body not ready to get out to the fanged monster that the winter brought. And it meant you got the wonderful opportunity to see people actively stare at your boyfriend.
It didn't matter when he didn't even bother making eye contact, hands deep in his pockets and resting bitch face on. Two boys came up to him in an excited manner that wasn't fit for early morning. And while Bakugo scowled harder, he still had the courtesy to give them his autograph. You knew that if they weren't highschool students, he'd tell them to fuck off. Bakugo never became aggressive with kids.
Once the order was handed to him, he slipped the tip into the jar at the counter. And since the man never carried change, the barista's face had twisted into shell shock. But Bakugo didn't even acknowledge it and left the premises, making his way back to you.
You were handed the croissant and Acai bowl, nose filling with pleasant scents that warmed you even further into the seat. Katsuki took a sip of his black coffee before handing you your own cup.
"It's very much decaf but I know you like your caramel macchiato."
You squealed at the gesture, not surprised that he was soft for you, and leaned in to give a big wet smooch to his cheek. His smile was evident, even when he tried to keep it hidden.
"I need to stop spoiling you."
He never did.
By the time you'd finished your drink and croissant, your uni had come into view. And as always, some people eyed the Chevrolet Corvette that your boyfriend drove. black exterior glittering in the morning sun.
After a couple affectionate kisses littered across Bakugo's face and a very long kiss on the lips, you got out of your car in your sweats and puffer jacket.
Your friends were waiting by the entrance, having come at the same time, they greeted you while eyeing the car. They knew it belonged to your boyfriend but they never knew what your boyfriend even did to be sports car rich.
"Hello, my children," You muttered out, blinking slowly as you put your scarf over your nose.
"Hey, dude. How did your--" One of your friends began to talk to you while you all walked to class. But after a good fifteen steps, you heard someone call your name.
"Oi." The gruff voice filled your ears.
The three of you turned around and your friends had been left bamboozled.
Because lo and behold, Bakugo Katsuki had graced them with his presence.
The man just held up a green canvas bag, his finger being the only thing to hold the straps. You gasped and ran to grab it, making sure to check the contents as if afraid that you forgot to put your precious artwork before you left your apartment.
"Thank you thank you thank you, 'suki." You muttered, getting on your tippy toes to kiss his nose and mouth. You had to put your hand on rock hard muscle to stabilise yourself and the pressure didn't effect him one bit. He just cupped your face and deepened the kiss before placing one on your forehead.
"Stop being a dumbfuck and sleep on time. And show me what you made when I pick you up."
Bakugo started going back to his car, not caring for the stares your friends were throwing at him. They were chill, so he's heard. Katsuki was too anti social to get first hand experience.
"My guy."
When you turned, your guy friend had grabbed you by the shoulder and shook you vigorously.
"Your rich fucking boyfriend is a WBA fighter. Dude!"
"Yeah!! He's super cool right?"
"He's a fucking god but that's besides the point." Your friend looked more and more erratic.
"Yeah and that god is giving you a death glare. Better get your hands off them, bro. You've seen the amount of blood his opponents lose." Your other friend interjected, already pulling him off of you. He looked pale.
You turned and saw Katsuki stand like a statue, hands in his pockets and eyes hardened. His teeth were gritted which worried you since he already had a bad jaw. Students were swerving away like two rivers, his body like a jagged mountain in the middle.
Your double thumbs up and wide grin was the only thing that broke him out of his stance, shoulders relaxing and jaw releasing from its hold. Katsuki scanned the two men for a few more seconds before he turned and left with a wave of his hand.
"Fuck, I don't think I'll be able to breathe properly all day."
You turned with a skip in your step, happy to have seen your boyfriend for a few extra seconds in the morning.
"He's like a doberman. Such a cutie pie."
"I feel like that's an accurate description considering he would bite our heads off but only let you pet him."
"I see no cuteness in that man."
3K notes · View notes
letterlitter · 29 days
Text
Pacify Her
Lando Norris x reader
•Tags: smut, toxic Lando, hate-fuck, makeup sex
•Loosely based on a song by Melanie Martinez with the same title.
•Wordcount: 1.6k
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It was unbearable how Lando squeezed this new girl's thigh and whispered in her ear. You knew it was to make you jealous, he was a tease even more when you two were in a relationship. You had really bad arguments that let to the decision of splitting, but since you didn't want to break up the friend group, you agreed to just say the relationship ended on good terms and decided to be friends which was a total lie and both of you knew it.
Now, only a couple months after everything, Lando had shown up with a new "girlfriend" which drove you absolutely mad how uncouth he could be. Bringing this girl in your group out of the blue fully knowing that neither you nor himself had moved on from that deep, long term thing you had.
She looked at you like she wanted to be your friend and get your validation so bad. You didn't know if Lando had told her you were his ex. He didn't even dare mention it when he was introducing her. You automatically hated her, although her big brown eyes seemed lovely and innocent. She didn't have a clue what she had gotten herself into. You pitied her cluelessness.
You noticed Lando's griny glances at you, he kept making sure you were looking before each kiss he left on her cheek. The bastard had all his moves coordinated and planned but you had been with him for too long not to see right through his facade.
You were at your limit, who was he to inflict this hurt on you after all that he had done?
Rage made your body dense as you walked towards Lando's house the night after, when you made sure nobody else was with him. His Friday nights had always been free on purpose to sleep until noon, game, and sleep again. You remember trying to wake him up for lunch and he was dead asleep because he had stayed awake to play with friends.
You rang and he buzzed the door open without asking. Walking towards the stairs you noticed the rose garden you had planted in a corner. The thought of Lando's face after a thorn had poked him in the arm and how he treated the flowers as his enemies forced your lips into a fainted smile. You hated that his memories made you happy. You hated it was him you had those memories with.
You pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on why you were here. Lando opened the door, a confused look on his face, "y/n? What is it why are you here?"
"We need to talk." And you stormed in.
"Please come in, make yourself comfortable." The sarcasm in his voice was familiar, and now that you weren't in love with him, infuriating.
"Want to talk about what?"
"About how you're being such an asshole."
"Excuse me?"
"Don't act like this Lando I know you did those things on purpose."
"Damn I don't know what you're talking about." He kept his sarcastic tone. You hated it.
You pushed his chest back in anger, "stop playing with me. You know damn well this girl you keep bringing is just a doll to mess with my head."
Lando smiled as if he had been expecting these words from you.
"This is way too low, even for you Lando."
"Everyone thinks we're friends, why can't friends introduce their new girlfriends to their other friends?"
"I'm not everyone. I know this is a lie stop trying to make it sound casual."
"What do you expect me to do? Stay single until you're over me?"
"Yes!" The loud sound that exited your mouth surprised you as it did Lando. You never planned to sound weak or needy. You just wanted to get closure, "look. I'm not trying to control your life or whatever, but what you're doing to make me jealous is messy and fucking pathetic. Fix it. Goodbye." And you started walking towards the door.
"Well did it work?" Lando's voice stopped you. He sounded sort of genuine for the first time in months.
You kept silent and still, wondering what to answer. Turning around to face him you said, "well do you love her?"
"Of course I do. She's very real."
You took one step closer, "stop lying."
Lando took a step closer to you, "stop being jealous."
You took one more step, "she looks way too innocent for you. I pity her."
Lando took another step , "I can teach her."
-"Funny."
-"I know."
-"You're insufferable."
-"I know."
Silence.
Now you were only one step away from eachother. Only one breath. You were mad at him and the tension felt heavy in the air as the sun was halfway set. His eyes looked crazy blue in the last golden rays of sunshine coming in fron his big windows. His face stingy and lips so soft it made you even more angry at him.
Your self control was getting shaky and you felt it shatter when Lando swinged his arms up to hold your face to kiss you deeply on the lips.
You squeezed your hand on his arm in protest to rip him off of you before it was too late but he was desperate.
He kept kissing you harder and harder like you gave him air to breathe.
You hated this. You hated the way his body pulled you in and you hated how it felt so good. He knew his way with you. Every single button, all the nooks and crannies.
You finally eased into the kiss, letting go of Lando's hoodie that was balled up in your fist and started to kiss him back.
His hands unzipped your sweatshirt and pulled it off your arms as soon as he felt that you wanted this as well. You let him. He slipped his hand under your tshirt, pinching your belly, messaging your back.
You let out a heavy exhale.
"I missed you." He whispered into your mouth, putting his lips on yours before you could say anything back.
Lando's hands moved down to your jeans but you held onto his hand to prevent him from going on. He stopped kissing you.
It was all too much for you and you hated him for being so good at this. You stared dead into his eyes, knowing full well that you were helpless, and said, "you fucking bastard."
He giggled when you pressed your debating lips on his again.
You let him kiss your lips, your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, your belly. You let him get down on his knees for you, between your legs.
His wet tongue on you made you jump in a surprising pleasure. The tip of his tongue moving in circular motions, in search of the place that made you moan the loudest. You tried fighting the sensation but failed miserably when he raised his finger to your entrance, messaging and warning about what's to come.
The moan that left your lips after he pushed his finger inside you was involuntary. You could feel Lando smiling on your pussy with the sound. He kept moving his tongue with your hand in his curls; pumping his finger and pulling moans out of you until you felt like you could take it no more. That's when Lando pulled his now soaked finger out and stood up, Leaving you clenching around nothing.
He faced you again to continue his kisses; you could taste yourself on his lips as he took off your tshirt and your bra, leaving you completely naked in the middle of the house. He looked at you once more before taking off his own hoodie you've been pulling on to get rid of since the start, he turned you around and got closer. His bulge rubbing against your butt from under his sweatpants.
"You're so pretty." He whispered into your ear, "wait here okay?"
You turned around to see him almost run to his bedroom to get condoms and you got a chance to take a look at his smooth, tan skin as he walked back.
Lando kissed you shoulder and your back as he slowly bent you over the handle of the couch. Messaging your body as he bent on you to let you feel his skin, his pants were off, your could feel his hard dick against the back of your leg. He adjusted himself on you and pushed in. You weren't hesitant to moan anymore. His length inside you was a familiar sensation of pleasure after this long. He was all you needed.
Lando started pumping deeper into you, making you feel fully stretched. You could hear his little groans and exhales when he grabbed your neck to make you arch your back more, pulling your head towards his mouth. "I bet nobody fucked you like this since I was gone." And he started moving faster. You pushed back your body into his, blurring the lines infront of your eyes.
You came within seconds after that.
He pulled out of you. You turned around quickly, grabbed his shoulders and lead him to the couch to sit down.
"Could you ever teach her this?"
And you climbed on top of him, each leg on each side. Leading his still erect dick to your hole and pushing down on him. Lando threw his head back with a moan. You took his hands and put them on your ass. He squeezed his hands with every movement you made.
You started kissing under his ear, where you knew he was sensitive. Moans started turning into whimpers and he started pushing up his legs towards you. You both moved faster as you reached your high. You nails dug into Lando's shoulder and his hands tight around your back when you both came and you collapsed into his arms.
****
"What a stupid decision." You said through your panting and you both giggled since you knew you were going to make more.
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(This is the first time I'm posting a smut one shot online sorry if it's short or lacking♡)
949 notes · View notes
fillinforlater · 3 months
Text
On her jeans (Part 1 of 3)
Male Reader x Kim Minji
Length: 3128 words
Tags: backstory, sex as payment, degradation, all things blowjob: face fuck, deep throat, gagging, chocking, throat bulging, rough face sex, training, passive hand job, master/daddy kink, desperate_trainee!Minji
TW: Minji is selling herself here kinda (oh no)
Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing this crazy series with me. Mad lad!
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-
(A/N: Hey you! I know you're reading this. Get ready for your favorite girls to get defiled one-by-one. Goon or go (or something like that, sounded cooler in my head). For everyone else, have fun!)
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"Huh? Minji? What are you doing here?" 
Kazuha asks, surprised to see the still-trainee on this floor of the HYBE building, knocking on an unoccupied training room that she has nothing to do with usually.
"I-I came here to ask you about something,” the younger stutters. “I heard you were personally selected for LE SSERAFIM—and that there is some backer for your success. Even th-the group's scandal went away without a hitch. 
“Who is helping you, who is he?"
"What are you talking about?" Kazuha responds, face in scrunches. 
"I know that you know, Unnie," Minji says and catches the door before Kazuha can close it again. "I need answers, please. I-I've seen their plans, this is going to blow up, we'll be a failure, HYBE's loving stock.
"I can't fail this."
Kazuha looks at the determined young girl, her face loosening up a bit, turning from trying to defend her future spot at your side from a new rival to worrying for Minji. She curls her finger and Minji enters the otherwise empty training room.
"You have some dangerous knowledge," the Japanese woman then says. "Asking for this—I think you have no idea what you might get into."
"Doesn’t everyone say this about the industry?" Minji responds with wit and looks at Kazuha's sweaty body in the mirror. "Everyone always shares their doubts, from the moment you start. And now we are here, ready to debut. I know I have talent, but will it be enough?"
"You really want this, Minji?"
"Yes, Unnie, more than anything."
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen. Why do you—"
"I'll give you his number." Kazuha sighs deeply, but nonetheless, her words have Minji in a delighted dance. "I'll tell him that you are good, so be good, be honest to him. I'm doing you a favor here."
"Thank you so much, Unnie!"
"But be careful: he is greedy, he wants more than you can imagine, so be ready to give him everything. And also—" 
Kazuha pinches Minji's chin, tilts it towards her piercing eyes and whispers in the most kind yet threatening voice: 
"Never try to get between him and me."
"Oh my—your concept, these plans. They are fucking terrible. It's going to take a lot to salvage this, even you seem to know that, Minji." There is no need for you to hold back. If you think a plan is bad, you better tell someone before they fail. You’ve seen your fair share of bad plans, but not by HYBE and not to this extreme.
"I-I know. I tried to tell them, but the managers just shut me down.” Minji puts her arms back on her thighs. They were just dramatically cast into the air to get her point across, but the young girl saw your unimpressed gaze and quickly got professional again. “They are running us straight into a brick wall."
"I've seen many examples like this. A lot of companies think they can do no wrong, especially when a lot of time has passed since their latest failure." 
You give Minji her tablet back and rest your chin on one hand, the other tapping the giant desk before you. You are deep in thought, at least Minji should believe that. Instead you are looking into her eyes, mariana trenches of passion, hopefulness, determination. Minji has a pretty face, leadership qualities, all the skills of a superstar but most importantly, she has some thick lips that will be perfect for cock sucking. 
Okay, you are getting ahead of yourselves. The other big thing she has is the willingness to trade everything for her dream, for hope, maybe for fame too. She will give her dignity for glory—and you will make her do it right fucking now.
"This is a difficult case," you say slowly, watching her expression shift a bit, not yet gloomy but getting there. "Luckily, I and HYBE still have the time and resources to make your debut a success. People will talk about it for a long time. I can even guarantee you a music show win from the get go."
"Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, sir. You are way too kind." Minji jumps from her seat and takes a deep, formal bow. "I hope I can lay all of this in your hand?"
"You sure can, Minji, but you know this comes with a price, a hefty one at that. This cannot be solved with two phone calls and some convincing. Hell, I barely have any time." You stand up from your chair and look at the young woman, upper body still tilted but her huge eyes fixed on you, now you’re in front of her. You still dwarf her and she only now knows that she is completely outmatched and will pay up.
"I-I will give you everything, as soon as I can," she stutters. "I only need some time and, and—"
"But I need it now, Minji. Right fucking now.
"Get on your knees."
"Sir?" Minji asks, shocked. "On my knees? Do-do you want me to beg?" 
You snort. “I thought you were smarter. What did Zuha tell you exactly?” 
“H-how did you know—?”
“Minji, what you're asking for requires a complete 180. Your entire concept will have to be changed. From what I’ve heard, you need some new songs too. I have someone in mind who can spearhead your group but she's a wildcard, batshit insane really, but the right kind of crazy needed for something like this. But all of this will take a lot of fucking effort, time and money. And I need you to prove your worth, now."
Push down on Minji's shoulders until she winces and sinks to the floor. Black tiles, hard, cold and somewhat reflective. You know that for a moment all of them hesitate when seeing the rough outline of their head mirrored back to them. Are they really going to do it? Is this what they have to sell? Is it worth it? 
Those that stayed are now superstars and because Minji somehow knew about it and had the guts to look for you, there is not a single doubt in you that she will devote herself to you.
"I can make your dreams come true," you proclaim calmly, yet your words put Minji under unbearable pressure. "Fame, money, success are all guaranteed, out of question, beyond that everything is possible. When you just stay there, on your knees and open your pretty mouth—"
A zip and your semi-hard cock is released, to the absolute shock of Minji, whose mental image of her face is replaced by the first phallus she has ever seen before her eyes. 
"—I'll fulfill your desires."
Minji looks up at you and gulps. She thought the auditions and training evaluations were the final tests respectively, but now her entire career comes down to this one huge cock right in front of her. She curses the producers, the managers, those idiots at Ador—their mistakes have to be redeemed by her sucking dick and lowering to the level of a desperate whore.
Minji has no option. Idols are born from hardship and this is just another step, she believes. So her lips part a little, and when she locks eyes with you, they part a lot more. With a satisfied groan, you shove your cock deep into her throat.
"From now on, you'll call me Master. Later will be Daddy, but not until you've proven worthy. Your next few weeks will be rough, new people, new songs, new choreos." The first tears form in Minji's gorgeous eyes as gags bounce through your office. "I don't care how tired or sweaty you are, when I call you, you come to me right after practice, no excuses. You will obey every fucking wish, especially because I have so much work with you."
You drag your balls over her chin, let your cock rest at the top of her mouth and open it wide. Minji is clumsy with her teeth and with the way she tries to dodge your thrust, be it intentionally or out of fear. This is of course vastly inferior compared to a blowjob from all those second and third gen stars you've made big after giving them your big cock.
The only redeeming, already great quality, are her lips. Natural, not a talent or skill. She'd be a lot better just not moving, not thinking, a fleshlight, but how should such a young woman know?
"I assume you're smart enough to understand all this," you tell her expectantly and pull out. Minji leans forward and coughs up her saliva on your floor. You grab her hair and pull it back, get ready to spit at her, but she has wit.
"Ye-yes, Master. Excuse my incompetence, I—you're so big."
"No crying? No regrets? Well, that's more impressive than your blowjob skills. How about you clean up your incompetence?"
You take a step back and pull her face down, down by the hair, onto the tiles where her spurts of saliva lay. Minji hisses out in pain, you know she stares down angrily, shocked at how rude you are to her. She grits her teeth—
"Yes, Master, sorry, Master."
—and begins to lick the floor, slowly and only with the tip of her small tongue.
You are mildly impressed that she adjusted to her situation rather quickly. It is the sign of a prodigy in bloom. 
"I am curious, baby girl. I was informed you didn't really set out to become an idol. So why put yourself through all of this?" You muse and question her. Minji's eyes widened a little, finally shifting from their bristling anger. "Oh, I know everything about you, Kim Minji. It is my job to know and then some. So tell me: what is your ambition? What is your desire?"
"Who doesn't dream of being famous?" Minji says, determination in her eyes which she has pointed at you like sharp, pointy arrows. "I want to be a star, the idol that all my classmates, parents, grown-ups have never seen in me. I want to show them how wrong they were."
"Too bad that even after joining the great and successful HYBE, you are about to be their first blunder," you taunt her and slap her forehead with your cock. "Good thing you're ready to suck cock for some adjustments of their mistakes."
Minji puckers her lips and a bit carelessly gets your cock back onto them, spreading small licks on your cockhead. "This is nothing, I know hardship."
"Oh, 
"You call this nothing?"
You tsk and slap her face with your cock.
"You know hardship? Do tell, Minji..." You grip her head and begin to plunge into her mouth. "Hardship? We haven't even started yet. I'm not even at full size, stupid girl!" 
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You see her eyes widening as tears begin to form with your rough treatment. Thinking back to Minji's words, you read her well. People doubted her—you could too. She wasn't so different from the others you've trained. All they needed was education to rely on you, devotion to you and love for you and only you.
"Make sure to keep your fucking teeth off of it," you growl while your fingers search for new ways to pull at her hair, to push her away and then slam her back down on your cock which is finally hardening at the arousal her fearful face brings. The inside of Minji's mouth grows wetter, sloppier, warmer, until suddenly—
The annoyance of her teeth returns and it stings. To start with blowjobs has both been a disaster for your pleasure but intense fuel to introduce Minji to the harsh reality that is you; you and the success that you bring. Everything she has ever wanted, you can bring her, and so she fights trough the tears and accepts that you press her flat on the floor and fuck down into her mouth like it's a pussy.
"Open wide, open wide," you repeatedly command, a hand on Minji's jaw to help her make this command come true. "You useless slut, don't waste your lips on such pathetic blowjobs. Fucking hell, when I'm done with you, you better deepthroat like a mid porn star.
"Fucking waste of my time, you stupid stupid girl. This is the standard HYBE is accepting now? Fuck, maybe we can't even blame the company for your group's future failure—it will all just be on you. If you don't fucking step it up, this is the last time you will ever contact me." 
Gaze still intensely focused on her, you pull out your cell phone and unlock it. You don’t really use it for much, except for phone calls, but this alone makes this device insanely valuable. You however don’t need to make a phone call now. You only need to show Minji one thing: your contact list.
She can see you scrolling past the names of tons of people, all in the industry. Well known producers, managers, executives, staff members, but most importantly, all highlighted by a colorful array of yellow, orange, red and pink: 
The full names of hundreds of female idols. Minji scans through the list, recognizing one Unnie after the other, from nugu second gen groups to absolute super stars.
You pull out of Minji's mouth, give her time to cough up all leftover spit and wipe her tears away. Ultimately, you help her up from the cold hard floor, the only thing still laying on the floor is her pride.
"Do you get it now?" you ask and look at her, eyebrows raised with the highest of expectations.
"Yes, Master."
"Then you know what you have to do."
"De-deepthroat like a p-porn star."
"Can you do that?"
Minji hesitates, something you cannot stand for the love of everything. You grab her hips and throw her on your desk, spin her until her head is hanging off of the table. With no further warning, because she does not deserve those anymore, you press your cock on her lips and fill more than her mouth. Minji's throat starts to visibly bulge from the massive width of your cock. 
Of course she is gagging, kicking her feet but that isn't even a flight response. There is no need for you to pin her down. She wants to stay, wants to become a good slut, a stupid girl that can suck your entire cock. Sadly, her newfound eagerness isn't rewarded with success. She needs training and stretching and so you stretch Minji's throat with lazy thrust and train her nose to accept your balls on them.
"You're so silly, but finally, we have some effort, Minji," you growl and reach into the top of her shirt. "We can work from here."
You fondle her breasts, run your hands down her soft stomach. 
"Good, I can definitely work with this. You remind me of—" 
But you pause, not wanting to divulge any advantages for her to pick up on. She looks like an absolute fuck doll as her head continues hang off the table. Even upside down, it was pretty when stuffed with your cock, your balls now touching her lips with each plunge. 
"Minji, it's not enough to deepthroat like a porn star. You'll learn to deepthroat like one of my perfect sluts, whores. Porn star is a start, but it will soon be an insult to you.”
She had no idea that her consideration as a future perfect whore meant you already took a liking to her. As of now, all she knew—no, all she could think of—was your cock and that she needed to keep her teeth off of it. It needed to fuck her throat if she wanted any chance at a great career. 
And so Minji takes it, acts like a whore who willingly gets gag induced drool over her face, then fat, filled balls on her nose and accepts the greedy hands all over her midriff. Minji always thought that she needs this tight, perfect form for the approvement of the public—now it's you who decides if her body is acceptable and ripe for a fucking. 
Your seal of approval is the frantic way you tear open her shirt, then her bra and start to knead her breasts, while her tongue movements become actually enjoyable. You thrust harder, making Minji's face pale as she struggles to get air. She looks gorgeous like that, so you slap her tummy and before the choking is too hard, you back off and pull your pants up.
"That's it for today," you say as Minji still gasps for air. "From now on, you'll be here everyday after practice."
Short silence, disbelief in her eyes. "H-huh—yes, Master."
"The door will be open. Walk in and lay down on the table, just like this. You will wait until I return or have time for you. It doesn't matter what happens, you will lay there until I am finished with you."
"Yes, Master."
"A lot will change." You rub sweat and spit off her temple with a gentle hand and look at her glassy eyes. "You might not get any sleep at all. Now you will learn true adversity.
"Okay, fuck it. You don't deserve this, but I don't care."
Pull your pants back down and lower your balls onto Minji's mouth. This time, there is no hesitation, and she opens her fuckable lips wide. Her tongue starts to twirl around your sac while you begin to jerk yourself off. When Minji finally starts to suck, you feel a satisfying conclusion to this messy meeting arriving. But—
"Why would I do it myself? Get your hand here!"
You find one of Minji's hands and start to spit on each finger. Like a waterfall, it runs down until you deem it lubricated enough. Then you put them around your manhood and begin to thrust. It's a lot colder than a pussy, but Minji seems to instinctively know how to tighten the gap, the grip, her hand-pussy suddenly becomes worth cumming in.
Take a final breath and climax, each pump sending long streaks of pearly white on Minji's body. You cover her in seed until one long line, from her navel to her throat, forms and you admire how carefully she worships your balls. Wipe your cockhead clean on her hand and make a mental note to have this soft palm be a useful masturbation aid for another time.
"Who would've thought that you're already in love with my balls?" You almost crack a smile through your stone cold facade. "A good sign that you're already a whore."
"M-Master, I..."
"Shut the fuck up.
"Tomorrow, after practice. No underwear, no questions, no one is allowed to know."
1K notes · View notes
ahundredtimesover · 3 months
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I Want You to Stay (03) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow��slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 14.8k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: I've been thoroughly enjoying your asks and replies about this story (sorry I can’t get to each one!) I see that a lot can relate to what OC's going through and I'm sending you hugs! 🤗 Again, I appreciate your love and excitement. And uh... Golden JK in that white tank. YUP. 🤭 Hoping you enjoy this one!
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
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The spring in your step tightens the closer you get to Jungkook’s penthouse the next Monday. Walking here to start another week, there’s a mix of emotions you’re carrying with you. 
You got to spend a proper weekend. On Friday, you made yourself some cold noodles and then watched a movie with Jimin and Soomin on video call, who’d said they’ll be visiting you in a week. You took the train to Daegu on Saturday, went to the park, then stayed in to enjoy Min-woo’s cooking and the girls’ stories about school and their youth clubs. You then buried yourself in your mother’s embrace as you told her about your week. You didn’t want to say too much, not wanting her to worry that her daughter isn’t being treated well at her job, but you suppose you said enough. 
“I wish I was strong enough to protect you from everything,” she’d told you softly. “All I can do is just give you hugs and say words of encouragement that might not even mean much.”
“And you still are, mom. I look forward to being with you because of those hugs. But more than that, you were strong enough to protect me from the bad guys,” you’d assured her. “Jungkook is many things but he’s not a terrible person. I can handle him.”
And you meant it. He may be hot-tempered sometimes but he’s not evil. But just because he made you go home early last Friday, it also doesn’t mean he’s suddenly redeemed in your mind. Sure, he didn’t email you at all over the weekend unlike last time, but he also still didn’t apologize to you nor show remorse. 
Perhaps that small nod after he called you telling you that you could go home was his way of saying sorry, or maybe it just isn’t in his vocabulary. You wonder if Hoseok had told him off but even then, it’s a pretty quick change, if you could call it that. 
Regardless, you felt like a human being again these past few days; you just wish Jungkook woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and doesn’t find a reason to complain about you. 
Unlocking the door, you’re surprised to hear silence - there are no grunts and deep breaths nor the sound of leather hitting leather from his morning workout. You scan the floor before walking around - a habit you’ve developed after finding that laced underwear last week - and then peep into the door on the right, only to find untouched equipment and no other traces of him. 
You’re in the living room when you hear another door close, prompting you to turn around and see a woman appearing from the hallway on the other side of the penthouse. Her hair’s a bit disheveled and she’s wearing one of Jungkook’s coats that you saw in his closet. 
“Uh, who are you?” The woman scoffs, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised now. 
Taken aback, you just stare at her, until you realize she’s not wearing anything underneath so you look away.
You try to make sense of who she is and how you could get out of this situation. You know for a fact that Jungkook doesn’t have a girlfriend, at least that’s what Lucas had told you, but who knows what Jungkook’s been up to since he got back? There was that red laced underwear from last week after all. Maybe he does sleep around like what Do-hyun said. Maybe this woman just doesn’t know Jungkook has a female assistant. Maybe he’s—
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she says, sounding more annoyed now. 
“Oh. Uh, I’m Mr. Jeon’s—”
“She’s my assistant,” Jungkook answers, catching you off guard, given that you hadn’t noticed him walk in. 
He’s not in his usual workout attire, although him in a white tank top and gray sweatpants with mussed hair somehow seems more overwhelming than him in nothing but gym shorts. You glance at him as he stands next to the woman, whose face suddenly lights up. Not wanting to look at her, you shift your gaze towards the ceiling, trying hard not to look awkward as you’re rooted in place. 
The woman looks at you from head to toe and you feel her judging you, assessing you, while Jungkook stands there, yawning and combing his hair with his fingers.
“Just your assistant?” She asks, sounding incredulous. 
“Yeah. What else would she be?” Jungkook answers nonchalantly. Looking at you, he nods ever so slightly that you almost miss it, another hint of acknowledgement you’d seen last Friday. “Just eggs on toast. And coffee.”
“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you say, exhaling the breath you were holding and then walking to the kitchen to start on his breakfast. 
“I don’t know, another one of your girls? I see you with a new one every time,” she huffs, sounding bitter, but Jungkook doesn’t sound amused.
“What are you still doing here?” He asks, walking to where you are then taking the glass of water you prepare for him. “I called a service for you last night.”
“I was too tired,” she says, and you don’t miss the sultry tone of her voice now. “You tired me out, Jungkook. I could barely get off the bed.”
“And why are you still here?” He asks, clearly not having it with her teasing. 
“Because I’m still tired,” she smirks, having followed him to the kitchen. 
You feel tense once more; you definitely don’t want to be part of this conversation in any way nor be privy to it, especially given what obviously happened between them last night. And especially not with Jungkook looking and sounding the way he does this early Monday morning.
“And I was thirsty,” she continues. 
He sets his glass down and opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water that he hands over to her. 
“Ugh, how romantic,” she rolls her eyes, finishing it in a few gulps. 
“I have to go to work,” he tells her, frustrated that she’s being stubborn about not leaving when he no longer seems to want her around. 
“Actual work, or, you know, work?” She says, gesturing towards you.
You make the mistake of looking at her smug face, the insinuation not lost on you. It’s insane how she can just make claims like that, and you feel that just like you, Jungkook’s getting pissed.
“Can you just leave?” He says much more sternly now. “I can’t start my day with you still here.”
“Ooh, how rude,” she giggles. “Should’ve expected you’d be like that even outside of bed. I like that.”
She walks back to the room, leaving you and Jungkook on your own. You continue to work on his eggs while he stands by the counter, rubbing his temples. You’re unsure if it’s because of her or from last night’s alcohol, but you get aspirin and also a bottle of energy drink and set them in front of him before returning to preparing his meal. 
The woman comes back shortly in last night’s attire then walks towards Jungkook.
“I’m leaving,” she announces, tilting his chin so he would face her. “I’ll see you again, yeah?”
Jungkook turns away and does not respond, leaving her to laugh as if there’s a joke that only she’s in on.
“Going all quiet on me now, huh?” She says. “You weren’t like that last night. I can still hear your moans, actually. Fuck, they sounded so good and so loud.”
You almost hit your finger as you slice the apple, clearly not expecting for this stranger to say something so intimate, knowing there’s another person in the room with them. You don’t know if she wants to intimidate you for whatever reason or maybe just make you feel uncomfortable. Whatever it is, it’s working, as you’re unable to focus on the task at hand now. 
Jungkook still doesn’t say anything, and it’s what prompts her to finally say goodbye. 
“Fine, I’ll leave now,” she whines. “But that was an amazing first time. I hope it won’t be the last.”
Her giggle annoys you for some reason, even more when you mistakenly look her way. Her smug face unnerves you as she holds your gaze while she says, “I’ll see you again, okay? I’ll make sure you’ll scream my name next time,” the words obviously directed at Jungkook. 
She finally exits the penthouse but she doesn’t take the tension with her because in this large apartment with you and him, you feel a little too hot, a little too alert, yet somehow a little too curious.
Jungkook groans now as he finishes his energy drink, and he doesn’t know what he’s more frustrated about - the fact that the woman whose name he doesn’t remember didn’t go home, or that you’d found out about it in the most embarrassing way and he’d done nothing to stop her attempts at making you feel uncomfortable because that’s definitely what she was doing. 
He doesn’t know how it affected you but even he can tell that it wouldn’t have been good. Not that he’s ashamed of his lifestyle but it’s different when you, of all people, get to see what that looks like. You did see the laced underwear on his kitchen floor last week, and he knows you definitely tried to pretend you hadn’t. Perhaps the image of arrogant, playboy Jungkook just solidified in your head and the fact that maybe that’s what you think of him is making him feel uneasy. 
Not that he cares about what you think - he definitely does not - but he just doesn’t want that to affect how you would treat him in a professional sense, as if he’s some reckless man who works too hard and parties much harder, even if that’s kind of what he does. 
The hangover doesn’t help at all; he shouldn’t have chugged that wine while the woman was giving him head, which was amazing, he reminds himself. He just knows he won’t be seeing her again after this morning because she’d been stubborn and shameless, and definitely not because of how she spoke to you and the insinuations she made.
“Mr. Jeon, your breakfast is ready,” you inform him, breaking him out of his thoughts. 
He takes a seat on the table and you sit next to him, taking out your iPad to start your rundown of last Friday’s meeting and this week’s schedule. 
“So—”
“Wait, give me a minute,” he stops you, and he realizes just how little sleep he actually got and he’s gonna have to push through today’s busy schedule despite feeling physically out of it. 
“Okay, sir,” you say softly.
He munches on his toast with his eyes closed, and when he opens them, his gaze falls on you, sitting upright on the chair looking clean and proper in your blush blouse and beige skirt. You seem to be reviewing the reports from last week, your eyebrows scrunched as you scribble on the screen. He knows you took the hours-long trip to and from Daegu over the weekend; the visit, just like any, must have been tiring. Yet you come to his place everyday without fail, ready to do what he needs you to do, and he doesn’t even know if you’ve had anything to eat yet. 
“Have you had breakfast?” He asks.
“E-excuse me?”
“Breakfast. Have you had it?”
“O-oh. Yes, I had some crackers and fruit on the way. I ate on the bus,” you respond.
He remembers your address from your staff profile. You live about 40 minutes from him, almost double if you commute. You come at 6:30 everyday, so he can only imagine what it’s like for you every morning. 
“Why don’t you drive?”
“I don’t have a car, sir.”
“Shouldn’t that be part of your contract? Or a benefit of some sort?”
“It isn’t. I believe only the CEO’s assistant does,” you respond. 
“Bitna has a company car.”
“Ms. Jung requested that when she was still President.”
“Then I’ll request one for you. It's… it’s too early. And you can’t always be assured of public transportation. There could be delays. Or an emergency that would require you to drive.”
Of course, he’d want you to get a car so that you’re more accessible to him. Just when you thought there’s actually a bit of his heart working this time, he reminds you why there isn’t.
“That’s true, but nothing has happened so far. And there are other options should there be,” you say. “I also don’t know how to drive so there is no need, Mr. Jeon. I leave my apartment early enough to make sure I get here on time, and I’ll let you know if I will be late.”
Jungkook just hums, even if there’s more he wants to know. What about late nights? What if there’s a storm? Well, he does know - he did see you miss out on taxis and then just walk last Tuesday; he wonders how you got home then, and how many hours of sleep you had after all that. 
He lets it go; it’s too early to think about this.
“Good. We can run through the minutes now,” he says.
So you do, stating the points and confirming your actions for each one and then noting down his as well. You try to focus, and you’re able to for the most part, but it’s not easy when he sits just a few feet away from you, with his bare arms propped on the table that’s just hard to look away from. 
You’ve always liked tattoos on other people, and the art on his right arm looks so delicate and personal; you wonder what someone like him would value enough to ink permanently on his skin. Even his untouched arm is mesmerizing, toned like every other part of him, with beauty marks that you spot as well. It doesn’t help that his slightly long hair keeps falling over his eyes, prompting him to comb them with his fingers every time. 
What also doesn’t help are the woman’s words from earlier, as she’d managed to make you think of Jungkook in a very different way, given her descriptions of how he’d been last night. You don’t know what she intended by doing that, but you didn’t miss her insinuations about your relations with him, which are definitely far from the truth. Learning that he’s rough and loud in bed is also knowledge that you could’ve done without. Somehow, he sounds like how he looks - expressive of negative emotions, and the type to drain the other person. 
He also sounds like the guys you’ve slept with.
The thought alarms you. These are things you shouldn’t be thinking about your boss, about the man who pays you, about the one who makes you miss meals and buses and who makes you angry because of how he treats you. 
You try to dispel these ideas by coughing - the loud sound helps, and you also want to distract yourself from how distracted you are at your task because somehow he keeps getting more and more attractive after every glance. 
He stands up, and just when you thought he’d be angry after your disruption, he surprises you by placing a glass of water in front of you.
“You can drink, you know? You can make yourself a cup of coffee. You can even cook yourself breakfast if it’s just crackers you eat in the morning,” he says. 
Yes, you think to yourself. You’ve been wanting to try his coffee because of the fancy machine but breakfast sounds… too domestic. 
“Thank you, but I’m okay. I mean, the snacks fill me up just fine.”
“It’s not proper breakfast, though,” he argues. 
“With all due respect, sir, eating takes time away from all the things I have to do. I manage just fine.”
Expecting an annoyed expression from him because you did just imply that you do too much, you instead see the tiniest hint of guilt on his face, as if he actually feels bad that you’re unable to take care of yourself because of him. 
“You’re not a servant, Ms. Cho. You’re not disallowed to do basic things just because of your job.”
“You have standards, Mr. Jeon,” you say, throwing his words back at him. You don’t expect to see his face fall a little, and you’re surprised that you seem to care. “I need to meet them, and I’m still familiarizing myself with how you want things done, and that takes time. I don’t mean to imply that you treat me like a servant because you don’t. I just… I want to be able to do things right and I’m still learning.”
The words hit Jungkook. He knows he’d been too critical during these first weeks, and that’s more because he’s unable to manage the initial attraction that he’s trying so hard to temper. He could’ve gone on correcting you constructively, with no need for harshness the way he did with Lucas when he started. 
You’ve also been doing this for a few years. You’ve been working for the VP’s office longer than he has - you know the people and the processes more, yet you’re the one claiming you need to learn and do things right. Even he thinks his father, whom he never thought was the best at looking out for his people, wouldn’t be angry at those below him for irrational reasons. Somehow he thinks he’s worse than his old man now. 
But the word sorry isn’t in his vocabulary. He’d rarely ever said it, and the only reason he’d heard it a lot growing up was because people caused his inconvenience, and not because they’d hurt his feelings. He doesn’t know what that’s like - forgiving and wanting to be forgiven. They’re foreign to him, but somehow those are what you’re making him want to know. 
“I—”
“Can we move on, Mr. Jeon?” You interrupt him. “You have a scheduled check-in with your father before the 8:30 team meeting.”
“Right, that’s today,” Jungkook says, letting go of any form of apology he could muster. 
He nods then stands up to head to his bathroom, and you follow shortly after to arrange his outfits for the week. You clean up in the kitchen after and wait for him to come out, with you reflexively walking up to him to fix his tie and make sure all the creases on his clothes are fixed. 
Jungkook tries to remain still as you, like everyday, make sure he looks proper. It always took him a long time to get ready because he used to do all this on his own, but with you taking on the unofficial stylist role - which he admits you do a great job at - he’s relieved of that added stress of looking the part of a Vice President. It just also means that every morning, he has to look unaffected as you stand close to him like this, with you tightening his tie and your fingers grazing his clothed chest.
You smell like roses. It feels warm and nostalgic, like it’s familiar but also something new. It’s refreshing on you, and it wafts through his nose and paralyzes him a little. He tries to hold his breath like always, only briefly glancing at your focused eyes as you make sure he looks impeccable. 
He’s caught off guard when you look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t react, but he does linger and surprisingly, so do you. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t know how to. He just hopes you feel it somehow with how he looks at you; he’d like to think you do, as you gently bow and step back, taking your things to go down. 
You go through his schedule while in the car, noting his dinner meetings and that the food tasting for next month’s event with the art industry professionals that you’re both organizing has been moved to next week, freeing up his Thursday lunch hour.
“I’ll schedule my visit at Taehyung’s tailor shop that day then,” Jungkook states. “I’ll have a few suits done.”
“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you reply, adjusting his calendar. 
He doesn’t say anything after. He takes his leather notebook and sketches like he often does, looking out his window only a few times as he’s engrossed in his drawings. Even with all that he is, you can’t deny Jungkook’s talent. You only know he took an architecture course but you don’t know if he actually practices it. 
You start to wonder if Jungkook wanted that to be his profession but couldn’t pursue it because he’s expected to manage the company with his cousin. You wonder if he’d always been into drawing and the arts, if it was an outlet the way reading picture books was for you; you’d wanted to become an illustrator but your mother couldn’t afford drawing classes and that profession just didn’t seem like it could sustain you financially. You wonder what Jungkook thinks when he sketches and what his subjects are, if he feels at peace the way he looks, if he hopes he could just spend his days doing this. 
The seeming warmth in your thoughts about this man concerns you, prompting you to turn away from his direction and stare out the window instead. You remind yourself that this is the same person who’d made the past two weeks miserable for you; he doesn’t deserve warmth from you in any form, even if, for the briefest moment earlier after you fixed his tie, that’s what you gave him. You learned that he’s quite mesmerizing when he doesn’t talk or when he isn’t scowling. You also learned you’re quite quick to fall into it when you let your guard down a little. 
You groan internally. There’s a lot you don’t know about him and you don’t really care to know more; what you know is enough to put you off anyway. And so these moments of weakness - of curiosity, of concern -  should not happen again. 
Except, they do happen, over an hour later after Jungkook returns to his room from his check-in with his father. He sits on his chair, his eyes closed and jaws clenched, unmoving for a good few minutes, and you watch from your seat, wondering what transpired that’s got him this disturbed. 
It happens again an hour later. He moved the team meeting to the afternoon and he’s now furiously typing on his desktop, making calls, sketching, making calls again, then sitting still with his eyes closed once more. Hoseok walks in, merely nodding at you, then enters the room and speaks with the younger man. Jungkook closes the blinds, and you’re left to wonder what’s going on behind closed doors and what’s got him angry and frustrated.
You take your chance at finding out when Hoseok emerges, asking him if everything’s okay, if Jungkook is okay.
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hoseok says, a half smile on display, something you’re only a tad familiar with. “He’ll manage.”
He rushes out, saying he has a meeting to get to, and you nod, glancing at the closed door and blocked window, wondering what troubles Jungkook is handling on his own. If it’s personal, it’s clearly not your business. But if it’s work-related, then it is. You’re there to make things easier for him, after all. You also don’t want to be surprised and be bombarded by new tasks just in case, so it’s better to know if there’s something you can help in resolving things as well.
You walk in his room then place the ginger lemon tea on his desk, a common home remedy for hangovers, just in case last night’s events are still affecting him. You inform him that you’ve sent the reports already for his sign-off, and he responds that he’ll get to them tomorrow.
Glancing at his drink, he halts his typing to look at you. 
“Do I look hungover to you?” He asks pointedly.
It’s clearly not what you meant, but you suppose the insinuation isn’t what he needs right now. You want to be swallowed by the ground. He was already calm towards you, civil even, and now there’s another reason for him to be upset at you. You wanted to avoid any possibility of that as much as possible, and now you’re here, at the verge of being told off again, just because your stupid brain decided to care the tiniest bit.
“I, uh, no, Mr. Jeon,” you stutter. “I just…”
You don’t have a reason. Clearly, you can’t tell him that he hasn’t seemed okay all morning - whatever that means - and that just in case it’s last night’s alcohol affecting him, there’s a cure. You stare back at him with worry, but instead of challenging or questioning you, he just sits back with his eyes closed again and dismisses you. 
“You may leave,” he instructs. 
“What about lunch, sir?” You ask. 
You’d never cared before, why the change now? 
“I’m fine,” he responds. “Call me when the meeting’s about to start.”
Your stubborn self takes the box of biscuits from the coffee table and places it in front of him. You’re pushing it, you think, but there’s a meeting he’ll be leading and he can’t be unfocused; when he is, it’s all the worse for you. 
He doesn’t react and you walk out. When you enter an hour later to call him, you spot the empty cup and the crumbs on the saucer, and you can’t help the tiny smile that you make internally.
It’s short-lived though, as that whole afternoon, he acts unusually - he barely makes comments at updates, he doesn’t make eye contact, and doesn’t ask further questions. He just nods when you say you’re heading out at 6PM, giving you no added tasks to keep you from leaving.
You enter his penthouse the next morning to the banging of leather hitting leather, prompting you to jerk from the loud sounds. He’s grunting and panting heavily, and you just know that whatever it was that transpired yesterday, he’s releasing all his emotions right now, through this. 
He exits the gym and walks to the counter where you are, finishing the water you laid for him in three gulps. 
“Do you need that tended to?” You ask. 
He looks surprised. You gesture towards his hands and he looks at his bruised knuckles; he really let it all out this morning, it seems. 
“I’m fine,” he shrugs. 
You didn’t think those two words from him would ever make you feel discouraged, but one thing you’ve come to learn about Jungkook is that he easily expresses his anger and frustration towards other people. It’s when he keeps things in that they seem more serious, and you wonder what words he heard yesterday that might have made him this closed off, this quiet, this much more distant.
But fortunately, your feeling of worry fades with each day that passes, as he slowly returns to his normal self after - the focus, the perpetually serious look, the attention to detail, the sketching on his notebook. Perhaps Jungkook just needed a particular kind of release and he’s maybe handling things better now. 
For his sake and yours, you wish the issue has been resolved, otherwise another blow up might happen and that wouldn’t be good for your newfound dynamic that’s a lot more civil than anything. 
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It’s Thursday when you get a call at 5 in the morning, just as you’ve woken up to get ready for work, and Mr. Ri’s voice greets you on the other end.
“Hi, ___. How are you this morning?”
“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you yawn, curious as to why he’s checking up on you this early. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” he hums. “I was instructed by Mr. Jeon to pick you up today.”
“Why would CEO Jeon ask that?” You wonder, as you sleepily walk to the bathroom to wash up.
“He didn’t. Jungkook did.”
You stop on your tracks. You don’t recall being informed about this, nor do you know of any particular reason why you should be at his place so soon.
“Oh, uhm, okay. I should be ready in–”
“I’ll be there in about 50 minutes,” Mr. Ri interjects. “Sleep in a bit more and have some breakfast. I’ll see you shortly.”
You try not to think about what prompted Jungkook to have you picked up, so you focus on getting ready and then whipping yourself some fried rice using the leftover seafood from last night. You won’t lie, it tastes delicious. It might be that you just haven’t had proper weekday breakfast in a while, but it could also be that you’re energized enough and not pressed for time that you’re able to make this as good as it is. 
You decide to bring some to Jungkook’s place just in case you get there late. Sure, Mr. Ri will be driving you, but you don’t know how the traffic is at this time, and this change in schedule is somewhat making you anxious. But then again, there’s always bread or cereal for him to eat; you just think that a little act of thanks wouldn’t be so bad.
Mr. Ri arrives exactly 50 minutes later and he assures you that he’ll get you to the penthouse in half an hour. You trust him of course; he’s been with the Jeons for decades and he knows these streets like the back of his hand. Seated in the passenger seat, you try to figure out what about today has got your boss a little kinder than usual. 
“I arrived five minutes late yesterday,” you wonder out loud. “Is that why? He has a meeting with a local artist in the morning and he doesn’t want me to be late. That should be it. Ugh, stupid,” you groan. “I should’ve taken the first bus I saw, but it was so full and–”
“___,” Mr. Ri stops you. “Five minutes isn’t much. Plus, you always arrive 10 minutes before 6:30 and then just wait at the lobby. I don’t know why you do, you could always just go up to the penthouse when you get there, you know?”
“No, I don’t. Mr. Jeon has boundaries and clearly likes keeping his distance. Going to his penthouse before I’m supposed to be there feels like I’m intruding,” you argue.
“You’re literally his assistant, and you go to his bedroom and his closet, fix his things, prepare his meals… there’s no intrusion happening,” Mr. Ri counters. “I know the man. He’ll probably just look at you curiously then go about his routine.”
“Well, since you know him so well, then why did he have me picked up this morning?”
There’s a brief silence before the man next to you responds.
“He did note that you were late for the first time, but that wasn’t his issue,” Mr. Ri says, appeasing you before you react negatively and think that your tardiness was a big deal. “He asked if I knew how you got to Hoseok’s place before and I said you would just take the bus; it was closer to your place so it was fine. They have someone to make his breakfast, too, so you didn’t need to come early; plus, you only went every Monday.”
“What a change, huh?” You attempt to poke fun at yourself and the new arrangement you’re in. 
Not that you’re complaining; you know of other executive assistants who do much more for their bosses and what you have with Jungkook isn’t even that bad. But it is quite the shift compared to what you did for Hoseok. You’ve figured out your own routine, though. And the commute isn’t always terrible, for as long as you’re not one of the unlucky ones, given the recent incidents. 
“It’s quite the change. I don’t think he realized that until yesterday. He also asked me if I know if you eat properly in the morning. Maybe he thinks you don’t?”
“I’ve skipped meals…” you trail. “And well, I told him that I just eat crackers on the bus. Maybe he thinks I’m losing focus some days.”
“Maybe he’s just concerned.”
You snort at the absurdity of the statement. 
Mr. Ri sighs. He knows that Jungkook hasn’t been his best self since he arrived in Seoul, and especially towards you. He’s noticed the young man’s indifference, the occasional passive remark, the frustrated looks, and the tension every morning. He’s noticed your faraway eyes, too, your constant anxiety, and unusual lack of confidence in your usual tasks, given that you look to be second-guessing everything you do. 
As someone who’s worked for the Jeons for so long and who’d watched Jungkook grow up, he’s used to the detachment, but it was always because the young man often lived in his own head. There are always lots of thoughts and ideas, and lots of feelings he keeps bottled in. 
But he’s also seen Jungkook’s kindness that he doesn’t always show, the guilt and anger that restrain him from expressing his emotions, and the care that he seems to put a brake on when he shows too much of it to someone, and so it isn’t much of a surprise to him to him when the young man gave this specific instruction to pick you up, not just today but everyday moving forward.
“The news on the radio reported on the robberies and complaints of sexual harassment against female commuters last night,” Mr. Ri continues. “They attack at any hour now. I’m sure that’s why. He wants me to drive you home everyday, too.”
“Mr. Ri, that’s too much,” you protest. “That’s not part of my contract and it isn’t his responsibility.”
“Maybe, precisely why I think he’s concerned. It isn’t about making sure you’re not late to work or anything. He’s worried that something might happen to you. And I agree. It isn’t safe, ___.”
“It’s not safe for me anywhere. I just… it’s too much,” you sigh. “I don’t need this kind of service. I’m not entitled to it.”
“He’ll insist though. Will you argue with him over your own security? I mean, it’s either this or he’ll pay for your driving lessons and then request for a car for you to use.”
You sigh, knowing he has a point. You don’t think you deserve it but you also can’t deny that the concern makes you feel a certain kind of way for him; gratitude, for one, and something else you can’t exactly name. 
“Okay,” you say softly. 
“Good. It’s about time he makes it up to you,” he chuckles. “Boy’s been a brat these past weeks. I wanted to just knock some sense into him.”
“Hmm, not like I expected any less,” you huff. “He just looked grumpy or disinterested during the times I’ve seen him before. Unhappy people like that aren’t always the kindest. Has he always been that way?”
“I wouldn’t say he has. I mean, he just wasn’t joyful or expressive, not like his brother. Jungkook liked to keep to himself; Hoseok often tried to push him out of his comfort zone but the boy wouldn’t really budge. I think as he grew up, that just amplified. People who prefer being alone have their reasons, don’t they?”
They do. You know this just like anyone, perhaps as much as Jungkook. It’s comfortable being alone; there’s no one to hurt you and no one you could hurt. You wonder if his reason is the same, and if, like you, he feels the loneliness creep in every once in a while. 
You nod in silence and the conversation doesn’t continue until you arrive at Jungkook’s building. You have five minutes to get to his unit and you get there in three. When you enter, you hear grunting from the gym, and it’s shortly after when he exits and drinks the glass of water on the counter.
“What’s that?” He gestures at the plastic container next to you.
“It’s fried rice. I made it this morning because I had time to eat breakfast at home,” you say, softly smiling and then bowing at him to show your gratitude. Whatever his reason is, the act was appreciated. 
“And you’re gonna eat again?”
“I was actually–”
You stop midway. You actually meant to serve it to him in case you arrived late, which you realize is pretty ridiculous. 
“Actually what?” He asks, leaning forward on the counter now, with his bare arms from his tank top blinding you a little. 
“I didn’t know what time I was gonna get here so I thought as a last resort, I’ll bring this to heat up and serve to you but then I realized that that’s pretty stupid because it’s leftovers and definitely not high-quality ingredients and it’s… just silly. Plus, you don’t eat rice in the morning.”
With his scrunched brows, he asks, “is it good?”
“It’s pretty delicious,” you say. “I mean, I liked it. I don’t know how sophisticated your palate is… Mr. Jeon.”
You smack yourself internally for rambling. 
“What’s that got to do with anything? If it’s good, then it’s good.”
“I’m an ordinary person, Mr. Jeon. I have normal people’s taste buds.”
“So that makes me, what? Abnormal?”
“No… I–” you unknowingly pout. You shouldn’t have brought this in the first place. 
Jungkook is disarmed again at the sight of your pouty face. If this is your way of thanking him for this morning, he’ll take it. The fact that you’d brought something you cooked from your own place to feed to him is already enough to make him feel hazy, which is why he needs to get away from you right away.
“Just heat it up. I’ll have that. There’s not much food in here anyway,” he says, walking away, leaving you no room to resist.
You do as you’re told, not wanting to overthink and change anything. You do check the cupboard and see a stashed pantry, and you wonder if he’d wanted to find something to criticize about your cooking, too. 
He walks in and lets you fix his tie again, and for some reason, you feel more nervous than you normally do today. You sit and busy yourself with responding to emails as he eats his breakfast, careful not to look at him while he does.
“It’s good, a little better than how I do mine,” he says, surprising you.
“You cook?” You ask too quickly.
“Of course,” he frowns, looking a little offended. “I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?”
“Hiring people to do it for you,” you shrug. 
Peeking at him once again, you see that he’s almost finished with the dish, and you can’t help the little smile on your face at the thought that he might actually enjoy it. It’s just fried rice, but you let yourself feel the shallow happiness from this. He’s at least not berating you or anything.
He finishes his meal as you go through yesterday’s meetings. There’s not much about the Arts Center he says, just like yesterday and the day before, and you start to wonder if the issue with his father has anything to do with that. 
You let it go, opting to just follow his pace and let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever will be. 
The morning goes by smoothly. Jungkook meets with Yoongi in his office then reviews the reports you’d sent last Monday. He sends you an email, saying that they’ve been approved and for you to attach his signature for sign-off and dissemination, leaving you perplexed at the lack of any other comments again. 
He goes for a quick lunch at the dining hall while you eat a sandwich at the pantry, and not long after, you’re back in the car to head to Jungkook’s appointment with his best friend.
Kim Taehyung’s tailor shop boasts of classic European design. It’s elegant in all the ways that he is, as he stands by the desk in his working space, a smaller room on the mezzanine floor with an exquisite couch and displays of his work. He’s donned in an orange suit that you think only he can pull off, while his brother, Seokjin, sits on a chair in an impeccable black 3-piece. 
You know as much that Jungkook grew up with both men, but while the brothers are often a hot topic on the news because of their wealth, their successful businesses, and colorful dating lives, you now wonder how Jungkook managed to stay out of the spotlight despite being a lot of the things that they are. 
You bow at them after Jungkook introduces you as his assistant, and you’re surprised when Seokjin reaches out his hand to shake yours, bowing as well and offering you a kind smile. Taehyung does the same, and you can’t help but feel the warmth on your cheeks. They’re clearly incredibly handsome men with amazing styles, just like your boss, but they’re obviously respectful and gentle, unlike him. 
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cho,” Taehyung smiles. “So, what events do I need to dress my best friend for?”
He looks warm, friendly, and you can’t help but mirror his smile as he offers you a seat and some tea. You take out your calendar and enumerate at least three big events in the next months, which would require standout designs. Jungkook also wants four additional everyday classic suits, and Taehyung starts sketching on his pad as you speak. 
“Make one for my event, too,” Seokjin says. “I’m launching my traditional alcohol brand in Singapore in September. It’ll be a big thing so Jungkook needs a fancy piece for that as well.”
“That soon?” Jungkook asks.
“Yeah, it got pushed early,” Seokjin replies.
Jungkook asks you to check his calendar for any activities in the Singapore office, and you state that there’s nothing scheduled during that time. 
“There’s a landscape designer I want to meet while I’m there. Schedule one with her later,” Jungkook instructs you, and you make a note to coordinate with Lucas, who will continue to serve as the assigned assistant for the Vice President’s Southeast Asia trips. 
Taehyung finishes the rough designs quickly, given that he’s already familiar with the style his client wants. He’s done a lot of Jungkook’s suits, which you know from all the weeks of preparing his clothes, and you do admit that he looks best in these custom-made pieces.
As Taehyung takes Jungkook’s measurements - given that, as per his words, Jungkook has gotten wider since the last time - he asks if you have something to wear for those big events, too. 
“Uh, yes,” you say. 
“Are they from company events from before?” Taehyung asks.
You nod shyly. It’s not like you’re paid enough to afford a new one every time nor can you wear them anywhere else; there aren’t exactly regular fancy dinners and social occasions you get invited to.
“Have new ones made, then,” Jungkook says, his back turned to you.
“Uh, there’s no need, Mr. Jeon. The gowns still look new and they’re well-made,” you insist.
“Store-bought?” Taehyung asks, his eyebrow cocked.
“Uh, yes, Mr. Kim.”
“Nothing beats custom-designed ones though. And I must say, I’m kinda good at them.”
“I, uh… it’s really not necessary,” you stutter, feeling a little too shy and definitely undeserving. It’s Kim Taehyung; his name is the brand.
“I believe it is,” Jungkook says now, turning to you. “They’re big events and we’re organizing one with the arts professionals. Some dignitaries will be coming, too, including the culture minister. I’d prefer if you looked the part of working for the Vice President, Ms. Cho. You represent me in that way.”
“I… uh, okay,” you sigh, knowing you don’t seem to be in a position to turn him down. 
“Great. Start thinking of designs, then!” Taehyung beams.
It’s some minutes later when Jungkook’s measurements have been taken and Taehyung calls for you. You sit on the chair facing his desk not far away while Jungkook and Seokjin talk about sports and this new club that opened in Gangnam. 
Seated in front of you, Taehyung takes his sketch pad and starts asking what design you want.
“Something simple and comfortable since I’ll be moving around,” you say softly. “And nothing form-fitting or revealing since, uh…”
“I understand,” Taehyung smiles, revealing a gentle side of him that the paparazzi and tabloids clearly don’t capture. 
He starts drawing your silhouette, glancing at you then at Jungkook before speaking.
“So, he’s been in this role for a few weeks now. Has he been nice?”
“Define ‘nice,’” you respond, earning you a chuckle. 
“I guess that’s my answer, then.”
“I don’t mean to say he isn’t,” you backtrack. “Mr. Jeon just has a different leadership style as Mr. Jung’s, that’s all.”
“I suppose that’s quite a difficult adjustment for you, huh?”
You purse your lips and Taehyung laughs, the soft way he does it is something new and refreshing to you. You didn’t realize how deprived you are of such gentleness, of such acts or sights as simple as a smile. Hoseok is no longer your source. Your team hasn’t been as jolly these past weeks. The only other person you talk to regularly at work is Yoongi, and while he’s definitely been smiling more, it’s a lot more teasing than it is comforting. You’ve been missing your best friends more because of that, you think - Soomin’s smile is blinding, Jimin’s is sweet and infectious. Perhaps it’s why you haven’t been smiling much yourself. 
“I won’t tell, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures you. “I just wanted to check on him. This whole move has been tough but he doesn’t say much. I’m guessing he doesn’t tell you, either, but he’ll definitely show it.”
“He has, actually,” you say softly, knowing now that even with his closest friends, Jungkook tends to keep things to himself. “He’s pretty stressed most days, always working and stuff. He’s been a little hard on me but I guess that’s a natural reaction for some.”
“That’s not an excuse though.”
“It isn’t, but… it’s okay. I can handle it.”
It’s not as much of a lie anymore as it used to be. Jungkook hasn’t been overly critical about things as he was just last week. He rarely makes comments on your minutes now, doesn’t correct the reports you reviewed, doesn’t talk over you or doesn’t yell. There’s been a change, definitely, and you wonder what triggered it. 
“He doesn’t really smile, does he?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.
Taehyung’s laughter is one of disbelief and pure amusement, catching the attention of the other two men but he waves them off. 
“He still does, just not as much,” he responds. “It kinda stopped after the breakup with Chaerin but I guess that’s what heartbreak does, right?”
“I… wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it,” you shrug.
“Lucky,” he hums. “I don’t wish it on anyone.”
You glance at Jungkook, briefly letting yourself imagine a version of him that’s a lot more carefree, relaxed, perhaps happy. Maybe it’s the loneliness and that you’d understand; that, you’ve experienced. It’s both liberating and isolating. You wonder if that’s how he’s been feeling all these years since then.
“I’m done,” Taehyung announces, showing you three designs that are exactly what you asked for. 
“These look nice. And way out of my price range,” you laugh.
“Perks of having a rich boss,” he winks. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? You’re my client and I want you to wear these with confidence. Now, if you’re okay with all this, I’ll get one of my female assistants to get your measurements.”
You nod in response. There’s absolutely nothing you would change about those designs. And if you’re being honest, you now can’t wait for those events just so you could wear them. Hoseok had obviously paid for the gowns you had to wear for the big events, but those were store-bought that A-yeong helped you choose. Some were your own purchases, but this is the first time that you’re getting measured for custom-made clothing designed by Kim Taehyung. 
You walk towards the fitting room at the corner where one of his staff meets you. She’s meticulous, which is why it takes longer than usual just to get this done. With her silence, however, you’re able to hear the conversation happening outside, with the brothers now asking Jungkook about the same thing you’ve been wondering about.
“By the way, what was up with you last Monday?” Seokjin asks. “I thought that was gonna be night 4 of you going home with a new woman. But you passed out before you could even ask. And that was just 9PM.”
“Four nights isn’t much, though,” Taehyung laughs. “Didn’t he do that with seven women on seven straight nights when he was in Singapore? That was wild. Was it that stressful there? Or were there just so many to choose from?”
“Shut up. I’m not proud of that,” Jungkook groans. “And that was one time. It never happened again.”
“It never happened seven times straight again,” Seokjin corrects. “You were really living your life out there, huh? Stressful job, a rooftop bar in your apartment building, chauffeur and butler services 24/7, women from all over the world begging to sleep with you…”
“It’s called the post-break up stage,” Taehyung says. 
“For six years?!” Seokjin asks incredulously. “It’s either you loved Chaerin that much, you blamed yourself too much, or you just really sucked at moving on.”
“I vote all of the above,” Taehyung states.
“Me, too,” Seokjin claims.
“Fuck you both,” Jungkook groans again. 
“I think he also just missed us too much,” Seokjin adds. “Lucas was cleaning up your messes every time, not snapping you out of it. But we’re here now so I guess three straight nights is as far as you’ll go.”
“Two, if you stopped me last Sunday,” Jungkook points out. “You both always insisted that Sundays are a no-no. You were too busy with your own women.”
“May we remind you that you didn’t even make it to our table. You stepped foot in the bar then left five minutes later,” Taehyung says. “But really, what was it about Monday? You seemed angrier than usual.”
“Just… a bunch of things my father said,” Jungkook huffs.
“Did he tell you off again?”
“Not really, surprisingly. He just delivered a message basically, about what the board members were saying about me and my project. Bullshit stuff, you know? I just wanted to forget about it.”
“Did you?”
“Sorta,” Jungkook says. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”
“But it’s still happening, right?” Taehyung asks worriedly. “The Arts Center, I mean. You’ve been wanting to work on that since the building was abandoned five years ago.”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook responds. “I guess. We already put money into it. I’ll just have to make concessions if my father doesn’t side with me on this. I hate to think he’s buying into what those old folks are saying.”
“Ms. Cho, we’re all done,” the staff member tells you, muffling the conversation outside that you couldn’t help but hear. 
It felt quite intrusive, hearing how life was like for Jungkook in Singapore, but then again, his personal life seemed to be the topic in the office comfort rooms, and you don’t know how to feel about getting confirmation about those rumors. It felt sad more than anything though, living that kind of life away from friends and family. You wouldn’t know what moving on from a breakup feels like, but you suppose people grieve a lost love in their own ways; you can’t blame them for how they choose to repair the parts of them that broke. 
But the bit about his conversation with his father is what bothers you. You’d hate to think that there’s a possibility that Jungkook’s plans won’t be fully realized, and whatever the reasons for that are, you hope they didn’t break his spirit too much. You know the plans now like the back of your hand and the more you learn, the more you believe in it. You hope Jungkook continues to believe in it, too.
You exit the fitting room, catching the end of a conversation where Seokjin suggests a wholesome weekend for the three men of just dinner and drinks. The two other men agree, and they all turn to you once you make your presence felt.
“All good?” Taehyung asks you.
“Yes,” you bow in thanks. 
“Great. The gowns will be ready at the same time as Jungkook’s suits will be. I’ll just let you guys know, okay?
“Sure,” Jungkook says. “But anyway, we have to get back to work. Thanks again.”
The brothers bid you and Jungkook goodbye, and you head back to the office with not much words said. Jungkook seems less frustrated, but the worry you feel suddenly returns. It’s the thought that maybe he doesn’t feel supported, that maybe what he’s doing isn’t enough, and that more than that, it's him choosing to deal with all this on his own, not even looking to his friends to comfort him.
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Jimin and Soomin meet you for lunch at a restaurant that Saturday afternoon. The drive from Busan took longer than expected, they said, but you say you don’t mind. They’re visiting you like they always do every month, regardless of how busy they are back in their hometown, which was your home for a few years, too.
You were in the same class; your mom worked at the school, which was the only reason why you were able to attend a prestigious one in the first place. Even when you moved back to Daegu, you remained in touch with them. Despite the distance, none of you wanted to just let the friendship fade, and even when they had to stay back and you made a life out here in Seoul, they made sure to visit you as much as they could.
They’re why you were excited for the weekend to come and now, you’ll be enjoying a hearty meal, getting your nails done after, lounging at your apartment, and then heading to a club for a night out, which you only do whenever they’re around. 
“So, has the boss situation improved?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and laced with worry “Or should I storm the jerk’s house and give him a piece of my mind?”
“It has,” you chuckle. “So no need to call him names or fight anyone. I’m okay.”
“Well, you did call him a grumpy old grinch with nice hair the other week,” Jimin points out. “So… did he get a haircut?”
“No,” you laugh again. “And that was in the heat of the moment. I… I mean, he’s still grumpy but he’s not… as grumpy or unbearable. He’s been—”
“Oh hun, please don’t say he’s been kind and then give him a pass for how he’s been to you,” Soomin reprimands. “Mean people don’t just become nice all of a sudden. And if they do, that’s a controlling tactic - they want you to think they’re capable of change so you’ll soften up to them and then give them a pass every time they do asshole-y things again.”
“You watch too many shows,” you frown, although knowing her statement isn’t wrong; it’s just not something you can relate with Jungkook.
Sure, he hasn’t been the nicest, but he also hasn’t been the meanest. He’s just been… him, you suppose - a bit in the middle; frustrated at worst, quiet at best, stoic on most days. He does seem to live in his head a lot, and while you won’t go so far as characterizing him as kind, he definitely hasn’t been insufferable these past few days. 
“I’ve just dealt with too many assholes, ___,” Soomin corrects. “They’re all the same. Men are shit.”
“Except for Jimin,” you correct.
“Except for Jimin,” she concurs. 
“I accept the honor,” he bows. “But seriously, ___. How has it been? You… you seemed really sad last week and I would’ve driven here then if we didn’t have that work emergency.”
“I’m okay, I mean it. I’ve experienced worse,” you try to assure them.
“You do know that having experienced something worse doesn’t mean it’s fine for you to experience something bad again, right?” Soomin points out.
“I know, but it also means that I know my threshold for bad behavior,” you say. “Jungkook was in a lot of stress and I did mess up. But I think he’s making up for that.”
“By apologizing, you mean?” Soomin cocks an eyebrow.
Your sigh tells her that’s definitely not what Jungkook has done. 
“Well, he approves my minutes and reviewed reports much quicker,” you reason. “And he doesn’t comment as much. But actually, I think he just pities me. And that’s worse.”
“Why would he pity you?” She asks.
“I don’t know. Maybe because I said that a tree fell on our roof and that mom got injured the weekend before my mishap,” you explain. “And then he found out how early I start my day just so I can get to him on time. He’s made adjustments after those and I… I think he’s guilty or something. And he’s just not being his usual angry self around me to make it up to me.”
“So in short, he’s still kind of an asshole,” Soomin says, prompting Jimin to snort and you to pout. “He could always just apologize if he’s guilty and realized he should treat you better.”
“Some things aren’t easy for other people to say, you know?” You say softly. 
“That’s not an excuse,” she points out.
“It’s an explanation,” you counter. “Or one of them, I guess. I don’t know him well enough, but it’s better to think that he’s a decent person who just struggles with emotions than someone who willingly makes people’s lives difficult. I mean, that’s easier to manage and accept.”
“If that helps you deal and he’s indeed improving, then maybe I won’t have to storm his place then,” she smiles, taking your hand and kissing it as she likes to do. 
She knows your habit of pressing your nails onto your skin, and she always said she likes to remind you that you deserve gentleness, too; she’ll give it if you can’t give it to yourself. 
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The rest of the afternoon goes as you planned, with all the banter you’d expect from your best friends amid the pampering and then the chick flick in the background as you get ready in your tiny apartment. 
You smile at your reflection in the mirror. The high-waist trousers and sleeveless top ensemble is a refreshing sight for you, as you only really dress up like this for a night out. You’re in your usual pencil skirts and blouses otherwise, and in jeans and tops or oversized jumpers on a normal day. 
Soomin’s done your makeup and Jimin compliments you as he looks on, and soon enough, they’re ready as well to head out. 
“Where’re we going?” You ask from the passenger seat as Jimin navigates the busy streets of Seoul on a Saturday night. 
“Some new restaurant the guys discovered,” Soomin responds. “I think it’s not far from here.”
“Okay, good. Hajoon’s been texting, asking what time we’ll get there,” you tell them. 
“Geez, you were already with him last night. Tell him to be patient,” Jimin rolls his eyes. 
Soomin laughs from the backseat as she teases that he’s just being jealous, to which he points out that he just hasn’t seen you in a while so the man can wait. And you assure Jimin that you’d gladly skip a night with Hajoon to be with your best friends, no questions asked. 
You get there eventually, and you immediately spot the group because of the laughter coming from their table. There are four men; the two women are Soomin’s friends, which is how you got involved with Hajoon in the first place. You met some time last year and you’ve been hanging out with him since then - among other things - and you’ve been enjoying it, given the simplicity and lack of drama when he’s not being moody. He’s a warm body who knows how to use it and you’re a good type of relief, as he’d said; there’s really not much more you need as you just try to survive through life and make something out of yourself in however way you can. 
Hajoon waves at you from his seat, gesturing to his left to say he’s saved that spot for you. You head there after greeting your other friends, with Jimin and Soomin following you. 
Right as you sit down and greet the man next to you, you’re caught by surprise when he kisses your cheek and snakes his arm around your waist. 
“Hey, I missed you today,” Hajoon hums, smiling at you the way he did last night and this morning; it definitely wasn’t this sweet when he left for a work trip last month.  
“I… saw you today,” you frown, earning you a chuckle. 
“I know; I was still thinking about you, though,” he says. 
You give a smile - as genuine as you can make it - and then turn towards your friends to your left who are trying to hold in their laughter. 
You order a beer after he offers you a glass of wine, and then go for the pork belly when he says the salmon here is good. 
“Just craving for meat, that’s all,” you tell him. 
“Is there anything else you want? Just let me know, okay?”
You hum your yes and then turn back to your friends after Hajoon makes jokes with his.
“Since when was he this sweet to you?” Soomin whispers with wide, curious eyes. 
“Since never,” you reply. “I mean, we’ve never been affectionate outside of bed…”
“Is anything else different?” Jimin wonders, careful not to bring attention to your conversation.
You look back at how things were before Hajoon left and how it was when he was away. Nothing seemed different. You hung out at his place before he flew out, then you messaged each other every now and then during the one month he was abroad. He was more interested to talk, but given the time difference and the pressure and stress you’ve been under the past weeks, you didn’t bother much, neither did he. 
But you also think back to last night - how he picked you up from your apartment, which he’s never done before, and how he prepared a luxurious dinner. He made you breakfast this morning, too, whereas you both usually just sleep in in tangled limbs and then separate once you wake up.
“He cooked me fancy stuff but I just thought he wanted to show off what he learned during his cooking masterclass,” you shrug. “And well… he seemed sweeter than normal.”
“Maybe he hooked up with someone while he was away and he’s guilty about it,” Jimin suggests.
“He didn’t say anything about it and he knows I wouldn’t mind,” you say. “We’re not exclusive, even if I don’t hang out with other guys.”
“Maybe he’s over the fucking and wants to do the loving bit now,” Soomin offers. “I mean, he always seemed more into you than you were into him.”
“He’s hot and decent when he’s in a good mood; that’s all I need,” you admit. 
“But honestly, that’s probably it,” Soomin continues. “I think he’s hinting that he wants to be more.”
“But I don’t want to,” you whine. “I’m not ready.”
“You’re 30! When are you ever gonna be ready?” Soomin whisper-yells.
“Never!” You pout now. “I mean… Not with him.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to tell him soon, then,” Jimin sighs. “Before it gets messy. And you hate messy.”
“What if men just don’t have feelings?” Soomin wonders out loud. “That way, you can’t hurt them.”
“So that way, they can hurt you?” Jimin points out. “No. I’m not letting any men hurt either one of you, okay? I love you both too much.”
“We know,” you and Soomin say at the same time. 
“But I agree with Jimin, ___. You’re gonna have to let that man next to you, who’s thankfully deaf, go. And then just find another person who can give you what you need,” Soomin continues. “Like, uh…” 
She looks around the semi-packed restaurant to find some random man to just point to, her eyes widening in awe as she spots a table close by with the type of men she was just thinking about. 
“Like them.” 
You laugh at her, not taking her seriously, but still, you look towards the direction of her cocked head, only to feel your throat dry up and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes widen in reflex as they meet the piercing gaze of the man who’d given you a headache for weeks. He also happens to look unfairly handsome in his white top and slicked back hair. 
“Shit, I would totally go for them,” Soomin adds, “and I only even like men a quarter of the time.”
Your best friends look at you as they wait for a response, only to see a nervous look on your face, as if you’re seeing a ghost or something, and the way you turn to them and stutter almost seems like you are.
From the other table, Jungkook pants quietly. You finally looked his way, and he didn’t know what to expect your reaction to be - maybe a bit of shock, but definitely not this worried. Granted, you’re out with your friends at a restaurant that he and his friends frequent. It’s not the type of place they’d normally go for - this is a lot simpler, less private, and more accommodating than the exclusive restaurants and hotels they go to for dinners before heading to a club. But Jungkook loves their pork belly; he orders it every week, and tonight, he was craving for this specifically before going to a private party of one of Taehyung’s clients. 
Jungkook had seen you when you sat down, and he’d been taken aback when the guy to your right immediately kissed your cheek; it seems he’s barely let go of your waist since then, too. Perhaps the man is your boyfriend - and Jungkook doesn’t know what made him think you wouldn’t have one - but it also seems that the one to your left is into you, too, at least based on how he smiles at you sweetly but rolls his eyes at the affectionate guy to your other side. 
But other than the embarrassing obvious affection that both of them are directing at you, what made him lose his senses is how you look, and you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. Your hair is styled, your makeup is bolder than usual, and he won’t even start with how you’re dressed. It’s a lot more skin than he’s used to - you’re out, after all, and if he’ll go by what your companions are wearing, he supposes this is your stop before heading to some club to party, too. Whereas when you’re at work, you have the skirt and long-sleeved blouse ensemble that you wear everyday - still pretty, perhaps just a lot more reserved than what he’s seeing now. 
He can’t take his eyes off you, even as you entertain your suppose-boyfriend, even when you engage in hushed conversation with the man and woman to your left, and even when you stare back at him, the initial shock now wearing down to a look of curiosity. Perhaps you’re wondering why he keeps glancing at you, too.
“I told you he’s got it bad,” Taehyung laughs from the other side of the table. 
He’s noticed how his friend hasn’t said much in the last 10 minutes, his gaze directed at the loud table close by. One glance and Taehyung knew why. 
“Well, we told him,” Seokjin corrects. “He only ever acts out when he’s threatened and he’s apparently threatened by his pretty assistant.”
“I’m not acting out,” Jungkook scowls, finally breaking the staring contest with you.
“You’ve never been this much of a jerk,” Seokjin says. “So yes, you’re acting out.”
Jungkook ignores them, his eyes turning back to you, and finds you downing two shots of tequila consecutively, then using the beer as your chaser. His knuckles unconsciously clench when your suppose-boyfriend scoots closer, whispering something in your ear, his lips grazing your skin. 
Jungkook exhales deeply, trying to get a grip of himself. He’s acting foolishly. You obviously have a life outside of work, and it obviously includes going out for dinner and drinks with friends, having a boyfriend, and enjoying your youth the way he is. There’s a world outside of the routine you’ve both created, of the silence you both share, and the time you spend together, unknowingly learning about each other without meaning to, without wanting to.
“___,” Soomin calls your name one more time. 
“Huh?” You answer, finally tearing your eyes away from Jungkook, who’d unfortunately captured your attention after you noticed he was there. 
You’ve been used to his impeccable looks in his fancy suits; you’ve even gotten used to his tank top and sweatpants post-workout outfits every morning, and while you’re still not immune to that look, his night out wear fit for a party leaves you more choked up than normal. 
Maybe it’s the black jeans that you spot as he sits on the edge of the couch, or the white button-up top with the rolled sleeves up to his elbow, or his haircut that makes him look a little more mature. Maybe it’s all that and the way he’s gazing at you, the look in his eyes something you can’t quite read. Perhaps like you, he’s surprised to see you here the way you’re shocked that he’d chosen this place to eat; it’s not exactly a fancy restaurant you know he likes eating at. 
But he’s here, and so are you, and suddenly you feel exposed, as if the world outside of work that you’ve kept to yourself is baring open to the man who stands at the center of what you do everyday. And you’re not sure how you feel about that.
“I was just saying… those men are pretty hot and they look interested, too,” Soomin wiggles her eyebrows. “ I mean, they keep looking here.”
“One of them is my boss,” you finally say. “Guy on the right. That’s… uh, that’s Jungkook.”
“Holy fuck, hun,” Soomin chokes on her drink. “Why did you leave out the part about your rude boss being a fucking god?”
“Does it matter?” Jimin scowls. “He’s still rude.”
“It’s different when the guy’s hot. It makes the anger more intense, you know?” Soomin says. “Attractive people elicit more passionate feelings sometimes.”
“Excuse me, that’s not why I was angry,” you pout. “He was really being unfair.”
“Well, he was. But I think my point also applies,” Soomin argues. “I’d just like to warn you that workplace hotties are a menace. Except for Yoongi - he was heaven sent. ”
“Ah, the man who could’ve been,” Jimin sighs. “We at least knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t seem like the type.”
“Yeah, this dude over here is hot but he’s mean. And that’s your type,” Soomin smirks.
“Can we… not talk about this while he’s there? And while this other dude is right next to me?” You glare at your friends, especially at Soomin whose insinuation wasn’t lost on you. “It’s so… weird.”
“Hey, we’re here for you, okay?” Jimin softens as he looks at you. “Just let us know if one of them makes you feel uncomfortable. We can always just stay at your place and watch horror movies until morning and you and Soomin can lose your voices from screaming and then I’ll lose my hearing because of it.”
His words make you laugh. There’s a tenderness in Jimin that you’ve never heard from anyone else before. Even when he’s telling you to stop yelling because you live for the thrill of a jumpscare, he says it so tenderly while laughing before pulling you both in his embrace. 
“I’m okay. I’m just… I don’t know, probably just not used to seeing him somewhere that isn’t the office or his home,” you reason. “And I feel a bit exposed, I guess. This is my world and his is… right there.”
You wrap your arms around your body subconsciously, realizing only you’d done it when Jimin asks if you’re cold, offering his jacket then taking it back because Hajoon might smack him or something.
You turn it down, knowing you actually feel hot more than anything. You’re dressed up and definitely dressed in less, and somehow having Jungkook see you like this is oddly making you shy, perhaps a little too conscious.
“Just don’t mind him,” Soomin advises. “It’s a restaurant. You obviously have a social life and he can’t fault you for it, nor make you feel weird about it. Just focus on us, okay? Or on Hajoon, if that’ll happen.”
You follow her words and try to block out Jungkook. You do slightly nod at him, as well as at Taehyung and Seokjin just to acknowledge their presence, but you continue on with your meal, as the dishes arrive soon after. 
The pork belly is a winner; you’ll probably come back here for that alone. You do manage to dodge Hajoon’s attempts at feeding you, and your other friends engage with the three of you at the other end of the table. It’s going well for the most part, until Hajoon starts to act a little wary, a little tense.
“Hey,” he says, leaning close to you. “The guy on the other table has been looking at you all night. It’s kinda annoying.”
You glance at Jungkook’s table and he looks away when you do. “Oh, just don’t mind him,” you wave Hajoon off. “Maybe I remind him of someone or something.”
There’s a beat of silence, and you feel him tense even more, as you look up and see that he’s staring down the man on the other side. Hajoon’s had a bit to drink, and you know he tends to be cocky and irrational when he is. You groan once he shakes his head, saying he’s gonna give “that stranger” a piece of his mind because “he can’t be looking at my girl like that.”
The initial annoyance you feel turns into panic once he stands from his seat and storms to the other table. You follow him, with your friends just looking in worry. His friends are more encouraging of what he wants to do though. 
“What the fuck is your problem staring at my girl like that?” Hajoon mumbles, acting all tough when he’s never threatened nor confronted anyone like this, even when he’s drunk. 
Jungkook seems taken aback. Perhaps it’s the aggression he didn’t expect, or maybe it’s finally having to acknowledge your presence in the restaurant, just in an unfortunate way. 
“Your girl?” He scoffs. 
The way the man is speaking to him is quite annoying, but he also knows your boyfriend is slightly drunk, so he dismisses him because Jungkook doesn’t need this drama tonight, especially not in front of you. 
Hajoon hates the way this stranger is looking at him and not taking him seriously. He’d seen how he kept glancing at you, perhaps trying to get your attention away from him, and he’s really had enough. His words are slurring but this is the courage he needs to stand up for you. You’ve said before how unwanted attention makes you uncomfortable, and he’s gonna do something about it before the man gets to try anything with you. 
“Yeah, my girl. You seem to have a problem with that, don’t you?” Hajoon grunts. 
“My only problem is you making a scene right now,” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re drunk and insecure and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of your girl.”
Not that you expected him to back off, but you didn’t actually think that Jungkook would further press Hajoon’s buttons. The man is drunk and insecure and indeed embarrassing, but getting told so is a blow to the ego, especially in your presence. And so you’re not surprised that this just makes him angrier, and since you’ve never dealt with this version of him before, you don’t know how to pacify him.
You didn’t actually think that Hajoon had a daring bone in his body despite being the way he is, but when he attempts to lunge at Jungkook, you’re left in disbelief. You’re quick enough to pull Hajoon back before he lands a fist on the other man’s face, but he’d been worked up enough that he hits the glass of wine on the table, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill on Jungkook’s thin white top. 
“Mr. Jeon!” You shriek, pulling Hajoon back more forcefully before pushing him to the side so you can get ahead. 
You take the napkin from the table and wipe Jungkook’s wet clothed torso, slowing down immediately as you realize what exactly it is you’re doing. 
“I… uh,” you stutter, standing straight up and mirroring his questioning eyes. 
It was a reflex for you, considering that you constantly make sure that he’s dressed impeccably. 
“You know him?!” Hajoon asks in disbelief, tugging on your hand now so you’ll turn to him.
“He’s my boss, you idiot!” smacking him on the chest as you glare at him. “And you just put my job in jeopardy and for what?”
“Well, what can he do?” Hajoon challenges. “Get you fired because of me? Does he own the company and shit?”
“My father does,” Jungkook responds. “And I’m the Vice President.”
Hajoon just rolls his eyes but you aren’t amused. You glance at your table and gesture for one of his friends to take him, so one of them does. He stands up and pulls Hajoon away before he can do or say anything else.
“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your head bowed down as you apologize. “I…” 
The mess on his outfit is too much; the red has stained the white top and you know he feels sticky. He looks like he has somewhere to go after this and that makes it worse.
“I– I can call Mr. Ri to get the car in here. I can get extra clothes from your travel bag,” you say, knowing that Jungkook always has a bag filled with clothes for emergency flights or check-ins. 
You get your phone and make a call, telling Jungkook that his chauffeur will be here soon. You glance towards your friends who are still pacifying a drunk Hajoon, and you decide that they can handle all that. Right now, your priority is Jungkook.
You walk out towards the car that’s on hazard mode outside the restaurant and pick out the top that’s most appropriate for a night out, which happens to be a semi-loose black button-up. You head back inside, with Taehyung and Seokjin informing you that Jungkook has gone to the washroom, so you scurry towards there and knock at the door.
“Mr. Jeon, I have your black long sleeves here,” you say as your knuckles tap on the wood. “Just tell me–” 
You’re interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, the sight of Jungkook in his jeans hanging by his waist and his unbuttoned white top catching you by surprise. His hair’s a bit damp and so is his bare torso, as you see that he’s tried to clean the wine off his body. 
You catch yourself looking longer than you should, and you immediately look away as you hand him over what he needs. 
“Please let me know what else you need, sir,” you say, your eyes glued to the pretty wallpaper as you awkwardly stand outside the washroom. 
“Jungkook,” he says, earning him a curious look. “I mean, you don’t need to be formal. We’re not at work.”
You nod, realizing it does sound weird to address him as such in a casual setting. 
“Okay… Jungkook,” you mumble, but even the way it rolls off your tongue is a bit odd. You’re not used to it, and you hope you won’t ever be. 
He closes the door and you take this time to calm yourself down. You’ve been so worried since you saw the glass tip over and mess up his outfit, and given his hot-headedness, you’re a little surprised that he didn’t fight back. He does have a reputation to uphold but even then, stopping himself from punching Hajoon must’ve taken a lot. 
The door opens and you sigh in relief; his outfit still looks good and he’s fully clothed, so there’s no lingering looks this time anymore. You take the top that he gives you, and you take the chance to apologize.
“I’m so sorry,” you start. “I don’t know why he— I mean, he’s a bit drunk and he’s not usually like this.”
“You’re not the one who should apologize so don’t,” he responds. 
“Well, he won’t apologize so I will.”
“You didn’t spill the drink and you didn’t come at me. That was him,” he counters. 
You just shrug, choosing to just concede. “I’ll just return this to Mr. Ri.”
He calls your name before you turn around to leave. 
“I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and your boyfriend,” he says, much too low and too gentle than you’re used to. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer softly. “We just, uh, we just hang out.”
You don’t know why you feel the need to correct this misinformation. Maybe you just want to remind yourself because you’re not anyone’s anything; hearing Hajoon claim you as yours made you want to just create that distance even more.
Jungkook wants to push it, to ask more. The man clearly acts like he’s your lover, given the physical affection and the way he tried to stand up for you. But there’s a bit of shame as you state that you and the man “just hang out,” and there’s that wonder he feels - how can you be with someone without being with them, and if turning away people who are clearly into you is a tendency you have. There’s Min Yoongi, after all, who’d liked you enough to remain as your friend when you needed one despite how he felt.  
“Okay then,” Jungkook nods. “And your job’s not in jeopardy. Don’t take responsibility for a stupid act you didn’t do.”
You bow in thanks, not much used to this side of him that’s understanding and even calm. You suppose he’d seen you worry about your job, had seen you look embarrassed over something that you didn’t even do, and perhaps he saw the discomfort over how Hajoon was talking about you. 
You’re about to walk out of the hallway when his call of your name stops you again, prompting you to turn around.
“About earlier… did I… did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, the worry in his voice surprising you. 
You debate over playing it down or telling the truth, but you go with the latter. 
“A… a little,” you admit, looking away. 
You hear him sigh, and there’s a look of guilt in his eyes as you turn to him. 
“I’m so—”
The footsteps of another diner in the hallway disrupts him, and you both make way so he can use the washroom, too. Perhaps you and Jungkook had taken so long, and you don’t want others to conspire about what’s happening, so you walk out and tell him again that you’ll just return his clothing to Mr. Ri. 
From your table, Soomin and Jimin watch the awkwardness of your parting of ways, with you scurrying out the door and Jungkook returning to his seat with a deep sigh before glaring at Hajoon.
“He does sound and look like an asshole, aside from being hot,” Soomin observes. “That’s totally ___’s type.”
“Are you saying she likes her boss?” Jimin asks incredulously. 
“I’m just saying that’s her type, not that she likes him,” Soomin corrects. “There’s a difference. I still hate him for making things hard for her. I wish he would stop treating her like that. You and I know she won’t quit anytime soon. Especially because he’s a Jeon.”
“I know,” Jimin sighs. “I wish we could protect her from all this, too. But she’s always done what she wanted to do. And we wait for her to tell us when things are hard; we just hold her hand whenever it is.”
“That’s all we can do, I guess,” Soomin responds. “Sometimes though I wish she’d just… let someone else do more than just hold her hand, you know? It could’ve been Yoongi, or even Hajoon before all this mess. It could’ve been you.”
“You know that’ll never happen,” Jimin laughs bitterly, with Soomin knowing exactly what he means. “You’re only ever just her friend or her lover; you can’t be both.”
Soomin hums in agreement, as she’d seen you draw the line with the men you’d come across with. You’d make it clear if friendship is all you want; you’d be straightforward if it’s just sex you’re seeking. You give either just your heart or your body and you’re always careful not to give both. There are parts of you that you don’t want to share, that you don’t want to expose to them; there’s a kind of hurt that you don’t want to experience. 
They watch you walk back inside and then head to their table, where you sit next to a buzzed Hajoon who still has half a mind to look at you guiltily. 
“I think I’ll head back home after this,” you tell the group. “Kinda not in a partying mood anymore.”
Your other friends apologize on Hajoon’s behalf, proceeding to ask you if that was really your boss and if he’d threatened your job because of it, remarking that it would be such an asshole move of him to do that or to even get mad at you for something you didn’t do. 
You come to Jungkook’s defense; he didn’t say anything to that effect at all. Perhaps you’d been the unfair one who assumed that he would - that he’d demand that you apologize, that he’d use this against you. 
“He’s… not like that,” you say, meaning it. You turn to your best friends who have disagreeing looks. “He… he tried to apologize for making me feel uncomfortable,” you say softly. “No one’s ever done that before.”
“Look, ___,” Hajoon starts, but you cut him off. 
“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you sigh. “I’ll just pay my bill and head out.”
You, Soomin, and Jimin all pay accordingly and then leave the restaurant, with you turning to Jungkook and his friends, bowing as a form of goodbye.
“Hey, why don’t we buy desserts at a convenience store and have our own party at your place?” Jimin suggests as you all settle in his car. 
“That would be nice,” you hum. “This outfit wouldn’t be such a waste then.”
So that’s what you do, as your best friends treat you to all the snacks you love - a usual occurrence, really, as they used to do that back in Busan to cheer you up during the days when you were feeling sad. It’s one of the things that you allow them to spoil you with and they take advantage of that, as you go home with weeks’ worth of goods for you to enjoy.
You also picked up some drinks on the way, so you play some music and dance around with your wine glasses and take shots in between. It’s too early to be drunk but 11PM might as well be 3AM. You’re all seated snugly in your tiny couch as you watch some variety show on mute, laughing at the hosts' antics even if you can’t hear anything. 
“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” you huff, leaning on Soomin’s shoulder as you doze off. “Both of you are all I need. Thank you for never disappointing me.”
They know you don’t always let yourself be this sentimental. They also know that when you do, all you want is for them to listen and to hold you. And that’s what they do, as you eventually clean up and fall asleep on the mattress with them, the events from earlier slowly fading away.
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fairyhaos · 4 months
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how seventeen react to their s/o backhugging them
requested ^_^ also junhui is in 2 diff bullet points bc i firmly believe he belongs in both categories teehee
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seungcheol, wonwoo, mingyu, dokyeom
see, here's the thing. he has a pretty broad and warm and sturdy back, and he's just so comfortable and always right there so of course you're gonna bury your face between his shoulder blades and never pay attention to the rest of the world ever again. you always collapse into his back after a particularly tiring day, while he's making dinner for the both of you and you want nothing more than to just bury yourself into his warmth and never leave. he's used to having you clinging to his back like a particularly stubborn limpet, and while he makes a small exclamation of surprise when you come out of nowhere to hug him, eventually he just smiles and lets you cling to him for however long u need
jeonghan, woozi, vernon, (junhui)
when you suddenly come up behind him and clamp an iron grip around his middle, he just pulls your arms more firmly around him, pats your hands and carries on with his day. you're holding him so tightly it's like you're afraid he's gonna disappear, and it's hard to move around bc you're plastered to his back and squeezing him kinda tight, but he does his best. that is, until he almost trips over your feet bc you're standing so close to him. he kinda feels like he's caught up in a trap, and tells you as such, every single time. “you're holding me hostage now, huh?” “i'm not holding you hostage.” “then are you gonna let me go?” “no.” but you're cute, so whatever. he'll happily be held hostage by you for however long it takes for you to decide he can finally be released.
joshua, minghao, chan
the moment he feels you burying your face into his back, hands around his middle, he's smiling and tilting his head back in response to your presence, murmuring a soft “hello, you” as you mumble unintelligible words into his shirt. he's so fond, practically melting in your hold, and he lets you stay plastered to his back for however long it takes you to wake up from your latest drowsy state that had you craving back hugs from him. because you backhugging him is saved for sleepy moments, for times when you're not quite awake and cling to him like a koala until you've fully woken up. it's adorable—you're adorable—so after a few minutes he's turning around and wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing ur cheek sweetly and asking if his lovely, lovely darling had a good sleep? <3
hoshi, seungkwan, (junhui)
yelps in surprise every time when you come up behind him and wrap around his back, before he realises that it's you and immediately relaxes. it's kinda comforting, feeling you and your warmth against him, but he gets kinda wriggly after a few minutes, wanting to see your face, so back hugs always end up turning into proper bear hugs where he wraps his arms around you and can look you in the eye properly before covering your entire face in kisses. he likes eye contact, likes seeing the love of his life right before him, and while backhugging is cute as hell do you know what’s even cuter? the little nose scrunch thingy he does when he gives you fluttery soft butterfly kisses over your eyelids.
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itostea · 5 months
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rings (gojo x wife! reader)
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in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring
warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if i’m missing anyone for the tag list
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There’s a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the building–some of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee. 
Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an “underground” location–a phrase that you would’ve not expected her to use. Correctly at that. 
“How are you doing with that idiot,” your other friend, Shoko asks. “Do you guys still sleep in separate rooms?”
You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. “There's a ‘no smoking policy’ here. And to answer your question, no we’re not. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.”
“On the same bed?”
“Yes?”
“And that’s it?” She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes away–taking another sip of her black coffee. “Nothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissing–”
“Yes that’s it! Keep it down here,” you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.
Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee–this time narrowing her eyes at you. “So why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Yes you are,” she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. They’ve always been so sharp. “Something’s bothering you so tell us.”
You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. You’re avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s stupid.”
“We’re not gonna judge you,” Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.
“Okay,” you start. “Something feels like it’s missing. Not that it’s ‘Toru–”
“You call him ‘Toru?” Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. “Continue.”
“There's nothing wrong with ‘Toru and I feel like I’m expecting something from him. We’re making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,” you pause. “I guess I’m just wondering when he’s gonna give me a ring…”
They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. “There’s no way that idiot’s that stupid.”
“But that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,” Shoko adds. “So? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?”
“That’s not really my way of doing things…”
Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. “Things would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,” she says, holding a hand up when you’re about to respond. “But I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.”
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You replay your friend’s words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlessly–throwing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, you’ve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.
Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usual–not that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. “Oh? What’s this?”
You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. “I’m making dinner for us since we haven’t been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.”
“Well, aren't I a lucky guy?” He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. “You mind if I take a shower first? I promise it’ll be quick.”
“Your shower’s are never quick,” you comment, giggling at how he acts as if he’s been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited. 
By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low “hello” as if somewhat shy. 
You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgust–feeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. “Is it good?” 
“So good,” he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at you–the same grin that makes you feel warm inside. “My wife’s so talented.”
“It’s just curry rice,” you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize you’ve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food. 
The conversation takes off naturally. He’s asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. It’s all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. “Listen (Name),” his voice is lower, nervous. “I know I should've done this before but it really didn’t cross my mind…”
Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If he’s this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? You’re already answering before he can finish. “Yes.”
He blinks, peering directly at you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table. 
He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wow I didn’t know you liked Netflix so much.”
All of a sudden, the delusions you’ve been building up topple like dominos. Your voice’s stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. “Huh?”
“I was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.”
“Y-Your Netflix account?” You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey. 
It was Gojo’s turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. “That’s what we’re talking about right?”
Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. “Yeah! I love Netflix…”
You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at you–gulping as if hiding a secret of his own. 
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“I want to give you something,” your husband’s voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch. 
He smells good, you think to yourself–earthy and fresh. It’s faint yet it’s enough to make you dizzy. “Something?”
“That’s right,” he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.
Yet, instead of a small, round object, you’re faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. “I can’t take this!” 
You’re left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. “Why not…?”
“Because I just can’t!” 
“But you’re my wife and I wanna spoil you,” he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly. 
“I can’t ‘Toru–”
“Yes you can,” he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you would’ve found funny if he didn’t just hand you his card. “Trust me on this one. You’ll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?”
You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyes–his mind piecing things together. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. “Just take it. Please?”
You think he’s doing it on purpose–the way he looks at you as if you’re a diamond among rocks. It’s hard not to say no when someone looks at you like that–harder when it’s Gojo. You sigh. “Fine. But I’m not gonna use it often.”
He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. “That’s my girl.”
You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomach’s doing somersaults as well
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It’s early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojo–the sun barely awake just as you were. There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.
You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing. 
You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your senses–luring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheek–try not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart. 
His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. “I’ll be back home by dinner today. I promise.”
Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your finger–your ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave. 
It hits you a bit later than you’d expect and you would’ve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts. 
“Toru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!” 
And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.
tags:
@maliamaiden, @dookiemeshibear, @icarusignite, @padsgrlly, @katiaesmeralda, @mooncleaver, @jcrml, @istanuwow, @stilinskispjo, @hjjjbb, @delulusuga, @hellogoog, @scrumdillyyumyumpurr, @wordskeeper, @rampagingroses, @demiwizardvampire145, @haikyuusimpsblog, @esmeensheep, @msunknown911, @saebeary, @mysuperrainbow, @scarletevening, @tedbunny333, @tulips-ss, @primapoppy, @realboysrdumb, @ems-tumbo, @a-cloudy-dreamy-day, @evalynanne, @kaiisers, @trisisbasic, @luna0713hunter, @arisucat, @honili, @dovahkiinsbitch, @porridgesblog, @siennahsteaparty, @dee-dreams-and-stuff, @satoruskitchenrag, @moonmalice, @junglewoos, @thisbicc, @heartsoji, @mysticmyth, @phoenixforgotten, @sillygoosegoose, @the-mad-hatress, @kairuthewriter, @batmansleftfoot
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Hear me out.....pretty...pretty Please, some general fluff headcannons for 141 and Konig?! I'm desperate for some fluff. Stuff like how soft they r how they r at home, kisses that sort of thing? Id die of happiness if u did!!!!!?????
141 + König General Fluff Headcannons
Warnings: fluff🩷, mild NSFW references
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Simon Ghost Riley-
It takes him a while to open up to you, but once he does? He's yours forever.
He is more of a listener than a talker, and he is damn good at listening
You always have to be within his line of sight. He always wants to make sure you're safe.
Definitely gets up before you in the mornings and loves to wake you up with coffee
Not big on PDA, but he doesn't mind holding your hand out in public.
Doesn't say I love you often, but when he does, it turns your whole world on an axis
Says no to a getting a dog at first, but when you finally get him to say yes? The dog is that man's best friend.
He's not a very good cook when you first get together, but he teaches himself in secret one year to surprise you on your birthday by making you your favorite meal. (Your heart nearly melted at the proud smile on his face when he told you he made it)
This man is loyal as hell. You will NEVER catch him looking anyway at anyone the way he looks at you. No person's beauty in his mind will ever compare to yours
Loves going for long car rides with you. Weekend trips, day trips, whatever works for him. Will ALWAYS have his hand resting on your thigh
He developed a ritual with you, where he will wear one of his hoodies for a few days straight so it smells like him when he goes on deployments
Secretly loves when you wear his dog tags. It's a kink of his he won't voice out loud
Loves to spoon you in bed. Very rarely will he not be holding you, or touching you in some way when he sleeps
Takes him a while, but he'll start to look forward to holidays with your family. They welcome him with open arms, and for the first time in a long time, Simon feels like he has a true family who loves him
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John Price-
Loves to hear about your day. First thing he asks you when you come home after work is how was your day? And this man GENUINELY listens
Loves to spoil you. Man gives inadvertent sugar daddy vibes. You even hint at something you like or want? He will get it for you
Huge on spontaneous dinner dates. Loves to come home randomly and tell you he's taking you for a night out
Literally has the hardest time saying no to you. For ANYTHING.
He tries to act all tough, but this man is so whipped for you
Loves when you rest your feet in his lap on the couch, as he loves to massage them for you after a long day
Fight me, but this man loves to take baths with you. He loves to relax in the hot water, with you against his chest. He can literally fall asleep like this
Always insists on paying when you go out to eat. Never, ever let's you foot the bill (if you pout enough, he may let you, but will feel bad about it afterward)
Will watch any TV show you want. He says he hates romantic dramas, but he's just as invested as you are
Kisses with him are always longing, and always want you leaving more
Man is a Valentines Day legend. Flowers, chocolates, jewelry, fancy dinners THE WORKS
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
An amazingly fun boyfriend to have.
Johnny always wants to do something fun, go somewhere fun
He's surprisingly amazing at giving massages
Doesn't mind PDA, he'll randomly kiss you in public, hug you, and hold you close. He doesn't care who sees.
Loves to try new things. Whether it's food, movies, or something to spice up the bedroom, the man will never say no to trying something at least once
Not a morning person, and he will have an iron tight grip on you in an attempt to force you to stay in bed longer with him every morning (he always ends up succeeding)
His ideal date with you is a pub. Something with good food, good beer, and even better company.
Loves to "mislead" you about when he's coming home from a mission, because he absolutely adores the look on your face when he surprises you earlier than expected
Adores double dates. Loves to hang out with couple friends.
When you're walking on a sidewalk, he'll always push you on the inside so you're away from the cars
Definitely is that boyfriend that will send you a dozen tik tok reels a day
Please go to an amusement park with him. He'd be so happy winning the various carnival games for you, getting you any stuffed animal of your choosing
You two cannot do surprises for one another. You get too excited and end up telling each other gifts or surprises the minute you plan them
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
This man loves to surprise you with flowers. Had a bad day? Flowers. Wants you to feel a little extra loved? Flowers. Thought you looked cute one day? Flowers.
Loves to go to furniture stores with you. Even if you don't actually need it, the two of you can spend hours looking around at various stores
Enjoys cooking for you. He's one to try new recipes, and loves seeing your reactions to them.
Firmly believe this man loves to dress up as a couple and that Halloween is his absolute favorite holiday.
Adorably loves to have a "chore" day once a week with you, where you both do house chores together for a few hours, while each of you gets to pick what song plays in the background
So supportive of any hobby you might have. Like to paint? He'll continuously buy you paint brushes. Love video games? He'll buy you any new one that comes out he'd think you'd enjoy.
Whenever you guys go out, he always orders something you like for his meal, in case you don't like yours
If you have longer hair, he loves to play with it and help you style it
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Best movie buddy ever. He LOVES going to the movies with you, and will get you all the popcorn and snacks you desire
Will hold your bags for you while you shop, and will fight you if you try to carry your own
König-
Possibly the sweetest boyfriend out of all of them
You will catch him staring at you ALL the time. Any second he gets, he will be looking at you
Loves date night ins. Cooking together or getting takeout and cuddling on the couch together while watching a movie? This man'll be in heaven
Loves to offer you his arm in public. Plays into his size kink when your small hand wraps around his bicep whenever you walk anywhere.
Man will WORSHIP you in bed. Wants nothing more than to make you happy in every aspect of your life.
Is more of a cat person than a dog person, so you two end up getting quite a few kitties around the house
Always kisses you like you're delicate. Loves to place gentle, loving kisses to your lips when you least except it, and his cheeks always flush a deep pink when he does
Will always shower with you. When he's home from missions you very, very rarely shower alone. Loves to help you shampoo your hair
Adores ADORRESSS when you wear his clothes. Triggers the man's size kink like no other when his shirts are like dresses on you
Amazing at aftercare. Always wants to make sure you're satisfied. Will warm a towel for you, get your water-whatever you need.
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unluckiestmember · 5 months
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can I get the main characters of blue eye samurai with a innocent fem reader? I loved your Arcane innocent reader <3
Coming right up!
Blue Eye Samurai X Innocent Fem! Reader
Characters: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo and Ito Akemi
Tags: Friends to lovers, workers to lovers, brothel, overprotective boyfriend/girlfriend, yandere themes, Ringo being Ringo, fluff, toxic(?) and open ending.
Warning: SFW
A/N: I'm so happy Blue Eye Samurai is getting the recognition it deserves! Who would you date? I'd get with Mizu or Taigen.
Mizu
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“The stars are out tonight?... I can barely see them… It’s okay. At least I can see you… You’re beautiful…”
At first, Mizu found you to be as annoying like Ringo. You weren’t as annoying, but it was infuriating to travel with someone who was so fragile and couldn’t even defend themselves. She was surprised that with your demeanor you weren’t in a brothel or married to the next idiot of a samurai. She kept you at a distance, arm's length. But someway. Somehow. You slithered into her good graces and touched her heart.
When you two became a couple, Mizu began to treat you like a porcelain doll. If a man tried to touch you, their hand would be severed from their body in seconds. If someone bad-mouthed you, their tongue was cut out. Suddenly, you found yourself becoming a precious jewel to Mizu instead of a nuisance. During down time, she always checks up on you to see if you’re okay. Expect her to check if you have a temperature, if you’re hungry or thirsty. She wished deep down she could give up her mission to live a perfect life with you because that’s what you deserve. But promising such a thing is hard. At least for now, she has you and she will savor the time you both have together.
Taigen
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“That was pretty cool, huh? You know I can teach you a thing or two if you say please… Haha! You’re cute when you pout!”
Unlike Mizu, Taigen found you to be a breath of fresh air on his journey to assist Mizu. He enjoyed how you were so pure in a world that was getting colder by the day. For a second, he was fearful of pursuing anything with you because of his relation to Akemi. But as the days went by and word started spreading fast of his lover’s affairs, the more Taigen lost hope in any future he could have with her. However, he gained hope in a future painted for you two.
Taigen is a mix of a man child and an amazing boyfriend when you two become a couple. He will tease you whenever you are being cute unintentionally or when you mess up doing something. It’s only because he loves your reactions to his commentary. He will also teach you how to protect yourself, preferably with a dagger. If you master using one, he’ll have you use a sword, but even then he’ll be a bit concerned it’s too much for you. On the battlefield, if he’s not showing off and winking at you after every kill, he’s quick to protect you from any harm. Let’s admit it. Taigen can be a pain in the ass. But he’s a great boyfriend.
Ringo
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“You really think I can be a great samurai?! Then I’m going to train hard for both of us- I’ll be the greatest samurai for me and you!”
Ringo is a sweetheart. He didn’t expect to go on this journey to end up with a girlfriend, so when he scored one with you, you can imagine his surprise. He didn’t think much at first admittedly, but the more you kissed his cheek, nuzzled into his body on cold nights and threw him words of endearment, the more it settled. And boy did he adore having the title of being your amazing boyfriend!
With someone now to take care of, Ringo pushes himself to be an amazing samurai. He’s more persistent with his master to teach him how to use a sword and possess honor. He’ll even go as far as to ask Taigen to assist him if he can! Whenever he learns something new, he’s excitedly telling you all about it. If he finds anything interesting, he’s grabbing you gently to share it with you. If you’re looking for a ball of sunshine who’s both your friend and partner, look no further than Ringo.
Ito Akemi
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“My darling. We will make our own path, away from this prejudice, these men- Everything that’s ever hurt us. That’s ever hurt you… You will never be hurt again. I swear it.”
Akemi knows all too well how it feels to be used and thrown away for your body if not your status. So when she met you at the brothel, she immediately clicked with you. She found your personality to be contagious along with your laughter. She spent every moment staring into your eyes filled with life, gently caressing your smooth skin just to make sure you were still there with her in this hell. You were the most beautiful flower she’s ever seen. You were a flower she couldn’t afford to be tainted.
She didn’t know why she fell for a woman or if it was a curse, but she loved you. She loved you enough to run away and spend as much life as she could with you until she was found by her father. But even then, nothing could hold her down. She was a princess who laid eyes on a commoner she wanted. That she needed. And no one would get in her way of having them. Of having you. She would destroy everything and bathe Japan in flames if it meant she could keep you in her warm embrace. She’d turn everyone into her enemy if you could be her lover. She’d be the villain if you were her savior… And that’s exactly what she was going to do.
If you got any requests for Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
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russellsppttemplates · 2 months
Text
Never letting you go (Max Verstappen)
There was nothing stopping you and Max now
Note: english is not my first language. This is the first Max big piece to sort of introduce their arc, let me know what you think! ✨️
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions Jos forbidding Max and reader of dating, curse words
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"What do you mean you're going to the Grand Prix?", you quirked your brow as your friend Cara sipped her coffee, "I thought you said you'd never be caught dead one of those", you chuckled.
"Matthew's company got a bunch of passes because they got a deal with one of the sponsors - I think? - I don't know much about it, all I know is that he brought three home because he thought you'd like to join us", she offered.
You never hid how much you enjoyed watching Formula One, even if watching it, especially in the last couple of years, often brought emotionally heavy memories back.
"That's nice, count me in! What type of passes are they?", you questioned, taking a bite from the cake on your plate.
"I don't know, he was talking all about them and I must admit I zoned out", she admitted, "but he said they were really good! He was very surprised at what the passes had, but his boss is very cheap so I don't know how great they actually are considering the possible comparison", she smiled as you nodded, "count me in, though. It's been a while since I stepped foot on one of them", you recalled.
The last race you attended was when Max was in Formula Three still. The paddock was so big and crowded with so many people, you doubted you'd bump into him. It wouldn't do you any good, would it?
"How did you get hospitality passes?", you gasped as Matthew handed you the lanyard, "they've invested a lot of money so I guess the sponsors didn't mind loosening the belt", he shrugged, putting his own around his neck after scanning it.
"Thank you for this, by the way", you flashed him a smile, "no worries, Y/N, the only way I could convince her to come was if you joined us, and I don't mind actually spending the weekend with someone who also knows a little about the sport", he chuckled as Cara laced her arms with her fiancé, "I'm glad he has you to talk to as well, there's only so much feigned interest I can muster up", she rolled her eyes.
Scuderia Alpha Tauri had been Toro Rosso, but despite the name change, as soon as you walked in, some faces were still familiar from the pictures you got sent from Max on gia first season with them.
"Why did you get interested in Formula One anyway?", Matthew asked you while you sipped on a latte, "I always loved the idea of the cars going very very fast, and then when I actually had the knowledge to understand how they worked, they really intrigued me", you offered, "I also had a friend who was very into it, so he also escalated my interest in it".
"He didn't pull you enough to work on motor sport though?", Matt wondered.
"I didn't enjoy the competitiveness of all of it", you admitted, "it's very strict, and if you want to be successful, it takes the good things away - your family, your friends", you opened your heart to him, thankfully noticing it and sorting the heartfelt confession seemingly about a job, "they travel a lot and they're really competitive that is, I'd never be able to do that for a job", you smiled, hoping you saved yourself from further questions.
"That's why you did mechanical engineering, then?", he asked, "for the most part, yes", you replied, "Oh, they're starting free practice", you smiled, looking over to the track from the balcony seats.
Sophie walked into the RedBull hospitality, looking for her family. Because it was Monaco, they felt safe enough to bring the Lio and Luka to the paddock, knowing they would be close to home in case things didn't go well as planned.
"Grandma!", the oldest boy called her from his spot on his father's lap, his brother sleeping on his mother's chest.
"Hey, my dears", she greeted, "You won't believe who I found on my way here", Sophie began, "I'm surprised Max didn't tell me he invited Y/N. It's a shame she isn't here with us, though", she commented.
The first indicator of surprise should be the way the blond woman looked at her mother, "what do you mean Y/N is here?", she whisper-yelled.
"I just saw her in the Alpha Tauri hospitality, I was walking with Helmut and he was headed there, that's when I noticed her. Max didn't tell you?", she quirked an eyebrow just as her son sat down next to them.
"What didn't I tell who?", Max spoke, setting his plate of food down on the table.
"Why didn't you tell us you invited Y/N for this weekend?", Victoria was the first to scold him, hitting his arm in a sisterly manner, "and in Alpha Tauri of all places? I'm sure they would've bent the rules a little and give you a pass so she could be a RedBull guest!".
Max thought he heard incorrectly. Y/N, his Y/N was in the paddock, in the sister team of the one he now drove for.
"I, I didn't offer her anything", Max said, his brother in-law looking at him weirdly as well, "I don't know how or why she is here, but I had nothing to do with it. We haven't spoken in a while", he mumbled. A while, three years, same thing, he supposes.
"Well, I just saw her. You should go say hi, I'm sure she would love to but she can't exactly find you where she is, it has to be the other way around", Sophie offered.
"What makes you believe she would?", Max questioned, both himself and his mother and sister.
"Because the way you never forgot her, she never forgot you", Victoria sterned, "don't you think she deserves your attention? She was in it for the long run, Max, and maybe she has moved on, maybe even has someone", the thought alone made Max loose his cool, "but she was your friend, the person you trusted most in the world and you let her slip".
"Don't sugar coat it, please", Max sarcastically replied.
"It's true, Max, and you know it", Sophie said, sensing her son didn't want to talk about the topic, but not allowing him to leave the table without a piece of her mind as well.
Max needed to put on his suit again, ready for qualifying, walking along the corridor until he found his door.
"Hey, before you go", Victoria called her brother as he was about to go into his driver's room, "Lio is really fussy, so we're just going back to your place, I'm sorry", she said.
"It's fine, whatever you feel the most comfortable with", he said, waving at his nephews and brother in-law.
"We will be supporting you from home, then", she said, kissing his cheek, "And Max? I know you're not used to it, but follow your heart", she smiled.
"Can I do that now?", he softly bit back, smiling and blushing at his words.
"What's stopping you?", Victoria said as she walked back to her family.
"Who is that?", Jos asked as Max asked him if he could invite you over for dinner before the season began.
The conversations with Toro Rosso were getting serious and the opportunity for a seat in Formula One was right there, up for him to grab if he worked enough.
"She's my friend, you know Y/N", Max tried to reason with his father.
"For this to work, Max, I think you need to distance yourself from home", Jos advised, ignoring his mention of you and carrying on with his lecture, "I'm talking no parties, no trips to come and see friends and family - I really think those are just getting in the way between you and the career you deserve".
The statement was clear, and Max knew better than to question it.
"I've spoken to your mother - she wasn't the biggest fan -, but you really need to focus on this", Jos reiterated, "no friends, much less girlfriends", he chuckled.
The dinner ended up being just Jos, Max and Victoria, the thought of having you there quickly erased in his head.
When Max met up with you before he left for the season, he was antsy. Just a week before, you had stolen innocent kisses from eachother's lips and revelled in the feeling of being in eachother's embrace without a care in the world. And it felt good, so good, like the piece that was missing in Max's life finally completed the puzzle.
"Hey", you greeted, kissing the corner of his lips and allowing him to pull you down to sit on the sofa.
"I spoke to my dad, I'm leaving in a few days", Max said, "there's some testing they want me to do still", he mumbled, lacing your fingers in his.
"And where do we end up?", you asked the million euro question. Truthfully, you entertained the thought. Even though being away from Max for most of the year would be a challenge, the love you felt for him was too big, too great for you to forgo that challenge. You were his and he would be yours.
"It's not going to work, Y/N. I need to focus on racing", he stated blankly despite how much it hurt him to utter those words out to you as the conversation with his father resonated with him.
"Max your focus is getting a Formula One seat", his father sterned, "do you know how hard it is? How much effort and work you have to put in? There can't be any distractions!"
"But Y/N isn't a distraction!", Max reasoned. If anything, you were the one keeping him humble and with both feet on the ground at all times. You cared for him, not because of his racing, who he was or who he could become, but because you loved eachother.
You'd never do anything to ruin his career, Max thought as he worked up the courage to tell you all of it. He couldn't get distracted, not now. He couldn't afford making mistakes because he had a girlfriend back at home waiting on him.
Your understanding, however, wasn't aligned with his expectations. He hoped you'd fight, at least, but you swalled your tears and nodded, "okay, Max. I hope you get your seat, you deserve it so much, I know it will happen".
Max put in on pole, leaving you to smile and snap a picture of the moment, wondering if you'd have the courage to send it to him.
"So, does this mean it's over?", Cara asked, "Because I could do with going home, actually", she nudged.
"Let's go, then!", you smiled, putting your phone in your bag and looking for the way out, ending up following the other guests into the paddock.
"Y/N, dear!", you heard someone call your name, and on cue, you looked for the voice despite the fact that it wad unlikely someone recognised you there.
Sophie didn't age, you thought, as you looked at the source of the voice that called you.
"I'm not going to hold you up, guys, you can go!", you smiled, waving at Matthew and Cara once you assured them you would be fine.
"I'm sorry, Sophie - they're my friends, and he was the one who got the passes from his office", you apologised for leaving her to wait a little for you.
"It's alright, dear. It's been so long since I've seen you", she nudged, "I'm sure Max would love to see you, too!", she jumped straight in.
"Would he, though?", you squinted your eyes.
"He would, Y/N", Sophie said earnestly, "I saw you this morning - at Alpha Tauri -, and he knows you're here", she smiled, "I'm assuming you're watching the race, too. Pay him a visit, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder and left a kiss on your cheek, "He's also my ride home, so I need to go look for him! Bye, Y/N!".
Race day meant rush everywhere, so you got to the paddock just in time before everyone rushed inside, finding the perfect spot to watch the race.
"I need to take this call, one second", you said to Cara, recognising Max's contact on your phone.
"Y/N, hi! I didn't think you'd pick up actually", you could hear the nervousness on his voice, "thanks for the picture, by the way, it was very... nice".
"It's no problem really, I thought it would be a good memory to keep", you smiled, "are you ready for the race? Or do you want me to give you a pep talk?", you chuckled. Back in the day, whenever he didn't feel too confident about a race, you had the power to help him out his head in the right place and bring his winning mentality to light.
"I'm fine, actually", he smiled, "I- I was wondering if you'd like to meet up later", he gulped, "I'd like to talk to you, but it's difficult until the race finishes, and then debriefs and media and all that".
"Sure, text me when you're done then", you stated boldly, "have a good race Max, you know I'm supporting you".
"Even if you're with Alpha Tauri?", he joked.
"I never stopped supporting you, it's not going to be a guest pass that's going to change it", you said as he bid you goodbye, ending the call and finding your friends.
When Max won, you clapped unashamedly as everyone else seemed to join you in your excitement, and after the race celebrations were done with, you waited patiently for the text to get to your phone.
"So you're staying back?", Cara asked, "I am, I'm meeting a friend", you explained. At her curious stare, you furthered, "do you remember the guy I told you about when you tried to set up that double date?", she nodded, "yes, the guy you were friends with, and when you both wanted to take a step forward, he had this big shot as his dream career and his father wouldn't allow him to date anyone", she said as she realized, "my goodness, he's here? Y/N, go for it!", she encouraged, "I know you still have feelings for him, who knows? Maybe this is your chance to reconnect", she rubbed your shoulder.
After you bid goodbye to Cara and Matthew, a text go through to your phone.
From: Max
Mum is waiting for you at the door :)
Approaching the hospitality, you quickly spotted Sophie, "c'mon in, dear! Max wanted me to get you myself, he was afraid no one would ler you in", she chuckled, guiding you through until you were in their dining area.
"Y/N!", Max beamed, setting down the crayons he was drawing with at the table with Luka and walking up to you.
"Hey everyone!", you waved at Victoria, putting a pin the two little boys' curious stares as they looked at you so you could hug Max.
"Congratulations, Max, I knew you could do it", you whispered into his skin, his arms hugging you so tightly against him.
"Thank you, Y/N", he spoke, "I missed you so much, I missed this so much", he squeezed you one more time before allowing you to greet the rest of his family.
"This is Tom, and that's Lio and Luka", Victoria said after she hugged you tighlty, "say hi, guys!", she encouraged as the two little copies of Max waved back at you.
"We're going to head home, it was great seeing you, Y/N!", Sophie announced, "I'm sure we'll see eachother a lot more from now on", Victoria complimented, helping her husband pack up the kids' belongings and toys so they could retire to Max's apartment.
"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner sometime this week", he jumped straight forward, "I'm having dinner with the team today and then the rest of the grid want to go to the club, so I wouldn't be able to spend that much time with you, and I want to be able to just focus on you", he smiled.
"That's fine by me, I appreciate the thought", you smiled as he led you to one of the tables, asking one of the caffé staff for something to drink for the two of you.
“Listen, I think, I think we found each again for a reason", he began boldly, not sure if this was the way to go after not having spoken to you in a couple of years. Still, it wasn't a lie.
"Define found, considering we've been iving in the same city for nearly a year", you smiled, "although you don't spend much time here anyway, so I guess that's a nice enough excuse", you teased, your foot tapping his shin playfully under the table.
"So, Monaco, hm?", Max started, "I didn't expect you to live here out of all places", he nudged, wanting to know more about your move but afraid he was stepping in vulnerable territory.
"I did it because of my earnings for sure. I've got to save as much as I can on tax on the fortune I make as a female engineer", you sternly said as he looked the most surprised you'd ever seen him, "I'm joking - not all of us move to Monaco so our million euro salaries have better taxes", you teased.
"Why did you do it, then?", he asked, smiling at how familiar it all seemed. Just like old times, he thought.
"The company I work for was the one that needed the tax benefits", you clicked your tongue, "and they wanted people to move here. Only one of my colleagues moved here with her whole family, as they expected, so they ended up calling the ones that weren't attached to anything or anyone in particular, and I was one of them", you shrugged your shoulders, "I moved to a new country with a different language, the only people I knew were my work colleagues, so I had no one to complain about them to, but I make it work - at least I like to think I do", you smiled.
Not attached to anyone, he recalled, humming at your response, "it's not such a bad place to live, right? Granted I don't spend much time year, but still enough to appreciate it", Max spoke.
"How about you, Mr World Champion", you nudged, "how does it feel?".
"Obviously it's great, and everything that I worked for", he added, knowing the underlying topic in the conversation, "I get to drive fast cars and I travel the world, there's not much left for it to be the complete dream", he said, gingerly touching your fingers over the table and accepting your hold when you laced them together.
Conversation was flowing easily until one of the employees told Max that he would have to go and get ready for the dinner, meaning you would have to part ways.
"Does Tuesday work for you? I'm not sure how well I'll be tomorrow", he chuckled, "yes, that's fine by me, just text me the address and the time", you smiled, getting up and kissing his cheek, "have a good time, Max, but be careful with the alcohol, I'd hate to have to pick you up again", you reminded him of the time he got way too drunk and he insisted he would only go home if you came to pick him up.
.
Dinner was great and Max invited you back to his place, hoping you'd be able to talk properly about the elephant in the room in a more private and comfortable place.
"You're struggling there, aren't you? Even with your itty bitty small hands?", Max teased as your pinky just about stretched enough for you to not lose everything by dumping the contents of your bag on the sidewalk.
As you and Max left the restaurant, you fiddled with your wallet in your bag, hoping to keep the card the waiter gave you safe for the next time you wanted to visit the place.
"I do not have itty bitty small hands!", you argued, shaking your bag a little to make sure everything was safely in place.
"We need to have the same starting line - like", you rearranged them so your wrists would be touching. Still, it didn't make much of a difference on your end. It looked like it even highlighted a few more differences, "yours is much bigger, I give up", you giggled.
"See?", Max said as he held your hand out against his, "these are the size of fairy hands! Tinkerbell probably has bigger hands than yours!", he exclaimed as you noticed how much bigger his hand was compared to yours. His fingers were a little bit thicker than yours and his palm covered all of your hand almost completely.
Now or never, Max thought as he laced your fingers in his once you let your arms drop and rest by your side. His thumb rubbed your skin and warmed you up, "was this your plan all along?", you wondered, feeling the bravery around you two and choosing to act on it.
"Lacing my hand in yours or proving to you that my biggest mistake was letting you go all of those years ago?", Max stated as he looked deeply into your eyes.
"We should talk about this inside", you bit your lip, allowing him to guide you through the apartment complex he lived in.
His living room was decorated in classy tones, probably with the help of him mother and sister, as you sat down on the sofa and face eachother.
"I know I apologised at the time, but I'm still sorry, Y/N", Max said, "at the time it was the dream and I didn't have much room for my own decisions. Still, I should've fought", he concluded.
"You didn't blatantly acknowledge it and decided we couldn't be together, Max", you conforted despite the hurt you felt at the time, "it hurt, - like a bitch actually -, but not because you were following your dream. I never wanted to pull you back and get in the way of your achievements", you gulped, "but I would be lying if I said I wouldn't like to give this a go, to give us a chance", you smiled.
"I know I have crazy schedules - I am barely here during the season -, but you were always the one I thought about. When I first raced in F1, when I got my first podium, my first win, my bad races - I wanted you there", he admitted, blue eyes looking into yours, "I can't promise that it will be easy, but I'll never risk you or our relationship, that's non negotiable", he stated.
Moving closer to him, you cupped his cheek with your palm, the slight stubble tickling your skin, "I'm in, Max", you smiled, taking the plunge and kissing his mouth, lips moving in sync as his hands pulled you into his lap.
The blissful moment was interrupted by a meow, Jimmy and Sassy walking into the living room, "Oh, guys", Max held you close to him as the cats sniffled you, "this is Jimmy and Sassy, my cats, took then long enough to leave the guest bedroom", he smiled as you tried to pet them, "cute, they seem nice enough - for cats anyway".
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jinnie-ret · 7 months
Note
9th member reader where skz are on a talk show or smth and the host is saying some uncomfy stuff abt reader being the only girl in a group of boys. the boys would be kinda passive aggressive about their replies because they cant outright say anything for fear of bad publicity and being disrespectful. i like the idea of the boys sticking up for reader in any way they can, even if they have to be sly about it so reader knows they have their back
bite my tongue
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stray kids x ninth member!reader
genre: angst
content warnings: sexual harassment (verbal)
word count: 1.6k
summary: when an interviewer decides to pick on you specifically, the boys do their best to hold back and get you out of the situation.
Thank you so much for this request! I'm sorry it took so long for me to answer but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!
As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)
MAIN MASTERLIST
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You decided you hated interviews. There was clearly a difference between how they'd talk to the boys in comparison to how they'd treat you. Whether it was by completely ignoring your existence or sexualising you as the only female in the group, it made you feel awful. The gross comments that were made caused you to feel uncomfortable, yet your demeanour was too shy to fight back. Perhaps that was a good thing, you had 8 other members to defend you at all times anyways.
You were currently doing an interview to promote S-CLASS, your new title track, and it seemed to be a nice atmosphere, a nice sit down conversation where you could talk about your music mixed in with other personal questions to make it more fun. But that was the issue, it wasn't fun. It started off light-hearted, and you worried you were being sensitive and overreacting at first when you suspected the questions you received weren't normal ones, but by the expressions on the boys' faces, you realised you were right to feel this way.
"So, Y/N, tell me, what was it like getting to do a more masculine dance this time? I saw the music video and I was quite surprised at how well you did," the male interviewer started off.
You mouth visibly dropped open in shock, yet you did your best to answer, despite your nerves.
"Ummm, I think my dance skills have improved over the years, yes," you said, not able to make eye contact with the man, not directly saying anything about his prejudiced words.
You had been with Stray Kids from the very start. Yes, the public had their things to say about you being in a group with a bunch of guys, but it had been 5 years now. Of course you were accustomed to the dance style of Stray Kids. You had created your own image through your music and dance, so what if the dance moves were typically more powerful with sharper movements? You were part of the dance line for a reason.
"Our Y/Nnie did so well," Hyunjin ruffled your hair from where he was sat behind you, trying to lighten the mood as he could tell his other members weren't too happy with how you were being treated.
You turned to Hyunjin with a thankful smile.
"So, 3RACHA, you do all the producing for the group right? That's quite a unique situation amongst idol groups," the man asked the group, and nearly everyone let out a sigh of relief and allowed themselves to smile, grateful for a normal question.
"Ah yes, 3RACHA have been together since predebut, so we've worked hard over the years to create music that represents our group and who we are," Jisung nodded and explained.
You couldn't help but check the time on your watch, seeing there was still 10 minutes to go.
"Y/N, how did it feel having to squeeze into your outfit in the MV? I noticed it was quite a tight leather jumpsuit you wore, that must have been difficult to wear considering it clinged onto you so tightly," the man directed his question at you again, and you were taken aback once more.
"It, umm, it wasn't too difficult, yeah... I think it fitted the vibe of the song," you said, clearly uncomfortable as you shifted in your seat.
Why did you get these types of questions? The boys got asked about music, and you instead got ridiculed for your skills and sexualised by the gross man in his mid 40s.
"Don't you want to ask me about how I fitted into my outfit? I've been working out these days," Changbin tensed his arms, flexing and patting his muscles proudly as he took the attention away from you. He seemed to have been thinking the same way as you.
"Maybe you should help Y/N, she's so small and weak, you could do anything you wanted with her," the man suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at you, and quite frankly, you wanted to throw up.
"Have you been working out, sir?" Minho spoke sharply and asked the man, infuriated.
"Oh yes I'm quite strong, can lift just about anyone in this room," he said. The statement of course, inferred he was challenging everyone else, yet his eyes never left your shy and nervous figure sat on the stool.
Everyone could see it. And they knew it was time for something to be done. They didn't think they could last the rest of the interview without punching the interviewer in the face. Yet, they did their best to keep their composure.
"Sorry, sir," Chan began through gritted teeth, tongue poking his cheek, "unfortunately we don't have anymore time for this interview," and he gestured everyone to stand up and follow his lead, exiting the room.
As you did so, you saw the blatantly shocked face on the man's face, Felix wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you left.
The boys were calm, until you made it to your backstage room where you had gotten ready earlier. All hell broke loose.
"What does that man think he's doing?" Changbin slammed his hand down onto the table, making you jump as you stayed quiet.
"I can't believe all those stupid things he was saying!" Minho growled, folding his arms.
"He's disgusting," Seungmin shook his head.
Chan was the angriest of them all, face of thunder as he paced the room. And yet, you couldn't help but feel bad. Surely, that interview couldn't be released now? And it was meant to help promote your new music, and because of your presence in the group, you felt like you were taking that opportunity away from them.
"Y/Nnie?" Jeongin waved his hand in your face to get your attention.
"Hmm?" you shook your head wondering what he was asking.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently, and with all the anger that was in the room, it dissipated with your calm voice breaking through it.
"I guess..." you didn't really know what to say at this point. You felt like you should have been used to it by now.
"I know that look on your face, Y/Nnie, don't even go there," Chan shook his head at you, a frown still present on his face.
"I don't want to do interviews anymore," you suddenly blurted, fiddling with your hands nervously.
"Y/N..." Hyunjin sighed, but you cut him off.
"Every time we promote something we get an interview like this that can't be put out to the public. And it's because I'm here. And then that means our music will be getting out to less people out there and-" you fretted.
"If you seriously think this is your fault Y/N," Seungmin sat up, pure disbelief seeping through his words as he couldn't believe that even with the way you were being treated you still felt guilty.
"Y/N, you didn't make that interviewer say all those gross things towards you," Felix rubbed your shoulder soothingly.
"You actually did really well to still try and answer him," Jisung nodded at you, thinking that he wouldn't have been able to have done the same thing.
"I had to bite my tongue so many times to not shout at him," Changbin gritted his teeth.
"This is why I shouldn't do these anymore, because it just ends up stressing you guys out," you felt bad, sitting down with your leg bouncing up and down.
"You're worried about us? We're worried about you, it's not fair that someone talks to you like that," Jeongin shook his head, hands on his hips.
"Y/N, here's what we're going to do. First, we're going to file a complaint against that guy. And second, for all future interviews we'll get the company to do a thorough check on if they're respectful and actually treat their guests right," Chan began, a plan already sorted in his mind for what action they could take.
"You're part of this group as much as anyone else, we can't represent Stray Kids without you there with us," Minho said like it was obvious, but it didn't feel that way to you.
"But it's always going to be the same thing. I'd rather not risk it again," you say, upset at the situation you had all been put in.
"Chan hyung already said, we can check what the show is like before going on it. That way you can decide from there, yeah?" Felix suggested, hand stroking through your hair as he sat next to you on the sofa.
"Or if you really don't want to do interviews anymore, I'm sure there's a way we can work around it. We could do more company based promotions and Div.1 can help us make our own shows?" Jisung wondered.
"No, I don't want to make things more complicated... I'll do them, I will, I just don't want this to ever happen again. It stresses me out, makes me feel all, gross," you shuddered.
"As long as you're sure, Y/N," Changbin checked in on you as everyone grabbed their things ready to leave the studio.
"Yeah, I'm sure," you mustered up a small smile, leaving with the others.
As you walked to the cars, you spoke up again, speaking louder than your normal quiet voice to catch the attention of everyone else.
"Thanks, by the way guys. Thank you for doing that."
"You don't have to thank us for that, Y/Nnie. We'd do that anytime, you know that," Hyunjin ruffled your hair, him and the rest of the boys now seeming more themselves and happier as you were leaving.
tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng
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zepskies · 3 months
Text
Headcanon: Teasing him under the table.
Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
AN: This was requested by this lovely anon:
Could you please write an imagine or something of all three boys (Dean: love the plus-sized one-shots; Ben from BMD: love your interpretation of The Boys; and Beau) - and how would they react to their girlfriends giving them a footsie? 👀
I'm interpreting this as a "playing footsie" moment lol.
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Flirting, innuendo, and some smuttiness. (You know Ben. 🙄)
Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to you teasing him under the table.
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Dean Winchester
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Because of the request, I had the Espresso-verse version of Dean and the reader in mind, but this can be general Dean x Reader too.
Dean is playful by nature. (AKA: a professional flirt.)
He enjoys working you up, but he enjoys it even more when you're confident enough to tease him back...even if it somehow always surprises him.
But he's been driving you crazy all damn day. Throughout the whole damn hunt.
Flirty smiles, suggestive quips masked as "innocent" remarks, brief touches to your arm, the small of your back, guiding you by your hip, a thumb swiping under your shirt and against your skin, lightly pressing into your curves...
It's all "normal," except for the deeper, suggestively teasing glint in his eyes.
He's in a good mood, and he wants you to know it.
And it's all in front of Sam, who knows the game you two are playing. Sometimes he smiles in both amusement and fondness, and he looks away to allow you guys your moment. Sometimes he rolls his eyes, or just tries to ignore it when he's had enough of you two eye-fucking in plain sight.
Dean knows what his touch does to you, but you know one or two of his weaknesses too...
When the hunt is finally over, the three of you find the closest diner to the motel you're staying at.
Dean orders the greasiest burger you've ever seen. He also teases Sam for already looking for the next case with his laptop at the table.
Dean glances over, his lips starting to curve as he licks a bit of burger juice off his fingers. He looks at you dead in the eyes while he sucks his digits clean.
He's equal parts noisy and disgusting. But damn him, your hand tightens around your glass of water. Your lips press together, and so do your legs. You nudge his foot with your boot and raise your brows. Stop it.
He pouts, and he nudges your foot right back. Make me.
You tilt your head at him. Adopting a certain smile, you slide your foot across the floor, under the table, and graze his calf with the side of your boot.
Dean's lips twitch. Sam is seemingly oblivious as he continues researching on his laptop.
Your foot travels higher up Dean's leg, up the inside of his thigh. You only gasp a little when he suddenly reaches down and grabs your ankle. His resulting smirk is salacious, even as he challenges you with his eyes. What're you gonna do now?
You contemplate exactly that, when his brother's voice startles you.
"Can you guys do me a favor and quit it?" Sam asks. He doesn't even look up from his laptop. "At least wait until we get home."
You bite your lip and blush. Both you and Dean fight harder smiles at being caught.
"No one likes a killjoy, Sammy," Dean remarks. Sam just sends his brother a dry look.
Dean's amusement remains. He taps on your ankle in contemplation, but after a moment, he lets you go. He grabs his phone and texts you under the table.
"Quickie out back?"
You grimace, then you text him back.
"Gross, babe. There are things I promised myself I'd never do in a public bathroom."
"So...meet you in 5? Come on, I'll do that thing you like. 😈"
His stupid grin, his stupid face, his long fingers tapping on the tabletop (somehow, even that is suggestive). It all eventually breaks you down.
"...Ugh, fine," you reply. You slide out of your chair first. But as you walk past him, you let your fingers brush down his neck — in a way that always makes a little shiver run down his spine. You smirk in satisfaction as you walk away.
He might've started it, but you could damn well finish it.
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Beau Arlen
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Oh, my dear cowboy sheriff...
Beau is also a jokester. He takes his work and the people in his life seriously, but he likes to keep things "loose." Perhaps it's a coping mechanism, but it's mostly just his way of going through life.
Tonight, however, is a tense dinner with your parents, Beau, Emily, and his parents that are visiting from Houston.
It's a nice steakhouse, more high scale than you or Beau are used to, but your parents insisted on it. Beau's parents are good-natured and full of southern charm. They're just happy to see their son and granddaughter, let alone meet his girlfriend for the first time.
The night is only tense because, as much as you love your parents, they're not sure about you dating a man with such a dangerous job.
They also have a thing about appearances, and the fact that he's divorced and has a child who isn't yours, and frankly, all the things you don't give a rat's ass about.
Your back is ramrod straight in your chair (there's a tightness in your spine that comes every time your mom taps you on the hand with her fork to remind you not to slouch).
You can't even really taste what you're eating, because you're too focused on making sure your parents don't say anything insulting to Beau and his family.
Then a boot taps against your open-toed heel. You glance over at your boyfriend, and he's already wearing a smile. He gives you a teasing wink as he eats a forkful of mashed potatoes.
Your stress begins to melt, just like that. God, this man.
You smile back at him and take a calming sip of wine. Your mom begins to talk about her upcoming tupperware party. Your smile deepens, but not because of that.
You playfully tap your foot on Beau's without looking at him.
You feel his discreet stare on the side of your face, but you pretend to be invested in your mom's conversation about tupperware. (I mean really, I thought those parties went extinct. Apparently, not in the Midwest.)
Beau's foot nudges yours back. You hook your toes under the hem of his pant leg, inching it up and up...
He retaliates with a hand drifting down your thigh, over the skirt of your dress. He grabs just above your knee and squeezes. Your leg jerks up on reflex, and your knee hits under the table hard enough to rattle the silverware, making you yelp.
The whole table looks over at you in both surprise and concern. (Your mother more in disapproval.)
Beau bites his lip against a deeper smile.
"You okay there, baby?" he asks.
"Sorry, my foot slipped," you lie through a tight smile. When you turn to him, your eyes narrow a fraction, promising retribution. You grab his hand tightly, but he just uses the motion to bring yours up to his lips.
Beau looks forward to whatever you plan to dish out next, as long as you wait until after dessert.
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Soldier Boy (Ben)
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Aw hell, this guy. 😂 I'm imagining BMD-verse Ben for this one...
Ben has a decent sense of humor, but he doesn't often like to be teased.
He'd rather be respected.
But you love to tease him anyway.
You also know his "limits," but it doesn't stop you from figuratively tap dancing all over them when you have the opportunity. You're slowly but surely trying to get him to loosen up.
Sometimes though, it bites you in the ass.
Like tonight, when you've gotten him to come with you to a Broadway show. You two have your own private booth on the second floor balcony. (He likes the privacy, and it's safer for you, as he's argued.)
20 minutes in, and you can already tell he's gotten bored. To be fair, it's a drama that's admittedly a bit dry and slow. You don't want him to walk out before the intermission, so you start to hatch an idea...
Your legs are crossed, and you draw your high-heel slowly against the side of his foot. When he glances over you, you pretend to be invested in the show. Your arms are crossed over your black dress that falls to mid-thigh. Your jacket is draped across your lap.
You brush the thin point of your heel across the top of his shoe, then inch it up under his pant leg, higher and higher.
Until Ben's hand finally grabs hold of your knee. Biting your lip, you turn to him with a smile.
"Do you mind? I'm watching the show," you tell him. He allows you to peel his hand of your leg and place it back in his lap. You cross your legs in the opposite direction.
Ben raises his brows. His lips twitch slightly, but he seems to acquiesce, relaxing back in his seat.
For a while, you actually watch the play. You become invested in the story and the characters by the time it gets halfway through Act 1.
That's when you feel a strong hand slowly slip down your thigh and between your legs, slowly rucking up the skirt of your dress.
You try to stifle a gasp as you look over at Ben. He doesn't meet your hot stare, but his hand is certainly on the move, covered by your jacket. He brushes against your panties.
Against your better judgment, you let him spread your legs wider. A smile finally crosses his face. His fingers hook around your underwear and brush between your folds. You let out a shaky breath and shift in your seat.
You know you should stop him, but you can't help the warm coil of arousal starting pool in your lower belly, and between your legs. Ben feels it with a smirk. His fingers find your clit with ease.
"Ben," you gasp, warning him in a heated whisper.
He leans over and presses a raspy kiss to your neck, thanks to his beard.
"Perks of a private room," he says. His voice is a low rumble in your ear.
You start to shake your head. You know you started this, but you also know him. This has the potential to go off the rails very quickly.
"This isn't a room. We're on a damn balcony," you breathe out, even as his fingers continue to work you over. You bite your lip to stifle a moan. "Anyone could—"
"Who gives a fuck?" Ben says gruffly.
As usual, his raunchy brand of logic (and his talented hands) manage to persuade you to give in.
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AN: lol I had fun with this one. Let me know what you think! 💜
Dean Winchester Imagines
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Dean, Beau + SB Tag List (Part 1)
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likedovesinthewindd · 4 months
Text
request: I wanted to request a Farleigh Start x fem reader. Where they are both American and he asks that she helps him with an essay. During the process, he starts having feelings for her because of her honesty towards him but she doesn’t realize it until he says it out loud.
★ tags: @darkeyesshine
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You were surprised when Farleigh had initially approached you for help on an essay. You knew him, not personally, but the two of you attended tutorials under the same tutor, and before that, you've seen him around campus plenty of times, usually accompanied by his plethora of friends.
You were, however, not at all surprised when he hadn't shown up the next day as he promised. You checked the time on your wristwatch; thirty something minutes passed since you had arrived at the library. You couldn't say it was uncommon for him, considering he wasn't exactly known for his punctuality or perfect attendance, but you'd be dammed if he was going to waste your time when he was the one who needed your help.
You huffed in annoyance, beginning to pack away your books and call it a day when you noticed Farleigh's tall figure appeared from behind one of the bookshelves, eyes darting around until he saw you sitting by one of the long tables. He took a seat at the chair next to yours rather than the one across from you as he started rummaging through his bag.
"You're late," you said, reopening your books and trying not to show too much irritation at his tardiness and still remain cordial. "So sorry ma'am. Won't happen again, ma'am," he said sarcastically as he dropped his books on the table with a loud thud before sighing. "But in all seriousness, I really am sorry. So, uh, shall we start?"
To his credit, he stayed true to his promise (kinda) and would always be early enough for your sessions, most days looking like death itself due to a previous night of partying or studying. Farleigh was actually very smart; people always seemed to forget that considering strings had to be pulled to get him into Oxford due to his past behavior and poor choices. You still liked him, though, and had grown used to his sarchotic personality and the playful banter that came with it.
He himself had grown quite fond of you, too. He liked that you never spared him his own verbal lashings and never sugar-coated anything; whether it was critique on his writing or telling him he wasn't going to see 30 with the way he needed a smoke break every five minutes.
Today was the last session before he was to submit his work for moderation, and as you read through his work for the last time, you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head. You chalked it down to him being really eager to get all of this over with.
"It looks really good," you smiled as you slid the file back to him. You were half expecting him to simply take the file and be on his way with a half-assed thank you thrown your way, but he actually seemed very grateful for your efforts. "I owe you one," was the last thing he said before he was already halfway across the library. Later that night, he would be at your dorm room door with a gift bag in hand.
"A thank you gift," he smiled as you took the bag from him. "It wasn't necessary, but thank you," you said. "It definitely was," he argued, "You saved my ass."
"I also kinda wanted a reason to come and tell you about Anabel's little get-together tomorrow night. The Christmas party?" he added. "I know about it. And I heard its invite only," you said, crossing your arms. "That's why I'm telling you. I'm inviting you," he said very matter-of-factly. "Why do you want me to go, don't you have friends?"
"Are we not also friends?" he said, sighing when your eyebrows knit together in confusion. "C'mon, are you really gonna make me beg?"
"No, I don't mind going with you, I just didn't think you liked me that much," you said truthfully. "Well, I do like you. I really like you," he said with a smile. "Tomorrow night. Seven," he added before he was gone.
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