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#extremely bad take but i think he deserves more in the game

qwakque · 10 months

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sorry guys ive duped u all im actually a die hard fan of the character kalim al asim from the hit disney anime boy mobile game twisted wonderland so hes all im gonna draw for the time being + rambles sorry

#kalim al asim #twst kalim #twisted wonderland #scarabia #hes just a silly guy #extremely bad take but i think he deserves more in the game

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dalishious · 3 months

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Alistair vs. Cullen

It really annoys me when people act like Alistair and Cullen are the same character, when they are very different.

Alistair grew up with child neglect. When visiting Denerim, Eamon kept him in the kennels. At Redcliffe, he slept in the stables on a pile of hay. Alistair also recounts a time when he was locked in the dungeons for a day before someone came to get him out. And of course he also talks about how Isolde despised him, and “made sure the castle wasn't a home.” But is still convinced that Eamon is a good person and he deserved all that. Cullen had a very fortunate upbringing with a loving family who supported him and what he wanted in life.

Alistair never wanted to be a Templar; he was forced into joining the Order by Eamon. He is vocal about how much he despised this, and considers Duncan recruiting him for the Wardens as “saving” him from them. The only thing he says he enjoyed about Templar training was the educational component, which he did not receive previously. Alistair was a poor recruit because he frankly did not want to be there, and therefore did not take it very seriously. He saw practices like the Harrowing as horrifying, and deepened his dislike of being a Templar further. And as time goes on, he becomes even less of a supporter of the Order; he outright says Meredith is the biggest threat to Kirkwall in Dragon Age II, if made king of Ferelden. It was always Cullen’s dream to be a Templar, and would even force his younger sister to “play the apostate” for his “training” before being recruited. Cullen was an enthusiastic recruit who considered Templar training “all that he had imagined”, and “did not hesitate” in taking his vows. Even the Harrowing did not waver his devotion to the Order, which by Dragon Age II becomes downright fanatical and tyrannical, practically worshipping Meredith. (Though this was later attempted to be retconned in Dragon Age: Inquisition… just as poorly as all the other retcons in that game, taking the path of “just pretend he never said and did all those things!”)

There is a lot of dialogue from Alistair about how much he dislikes the Chantry. Cullen, on the other hand, is extremely faithful and the only criticism he ever has about the Chantry is that they don’t treat the Templars well enough.

Alistair has a good sense of humour—in fact, it’s one of his biggest coping mechanisms. Cullen wouldn’t know a joke if it hit him in the face.

The player can disagree with Alistair on every turn. He is presented as sometimes being right, and sometimes being wrong, like most people. (Side note: more than that, you can be downright verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive to Alistair. Holy shit, I didn’t even realize how bad it can get until reading through the dialogue in the toolset, because I’ve never picked those options in game. I was honest to god flabbergasted and very uncomfortable through much of it.) The player rarely has the chance to even mildly disagree with Cullen. On the rare occasion you do, the dialogue is painted as if the player is being an unreasonable asshole, and he never even addresses what they say. (Example.)

The only reason I think people are capable of mistaking them for another is because fandom likes to donate Alistair’s personality onto Cullen. That and the the ever-frequent whitewashing of Alistair doesn’t help matters. But I’m not even a Cullen fan and I think it’s a disservice to both of them to act like they’re just Alistair and Alistair 2.0, honestly.

#alistair theirin #anti cullen #dragon age #meta

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another-lost-mc · 8 months

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Lucifer pretends not to know what is you’re doing when you send him sexy texts while he’s working away at RAD. He would rather do all the things you’re describing in person anyway, but alas, he must finish this paperwork for the student council first. And don’t you have class anyway? So maybe he doesn’t respond in the way you want him to but all it does drive you to more extreme methods.

He thinks the ding of his DDD is another attempt at enticing him to sext with you while you’re both busy at RAD but when he opens the text, it’s an image of you halfway undressed in the bathroom stall. That makes him do a double take. Oh, so that’s how you want to play? All right then.

Lucifer: Stay right where you are. I’m on my way.

➤ mid-day run | lucifer x reader

0.8k words | nsfw | gn!reader

cw: inappropriate use of RAD bathroom stalls; semi-public sex; slight degradation

The bathroom fills with the soft sounds of skin slapping against skin. Lucifer barely had to prepare you with his thick, gloved fingers—your body was stretched and dripping with anticipation for him. It only took a moment for him to unbuckle his pants and shimmy them low around his hips so his cock could spring free. The first deep thrust knocked the air out of you, and he buried his own groan in your shoulder. “You little slut, have you always been so needy?”

Your only response is a keening whine from the back of your throat, and he muffles the noise with two of his fingers. You swallow around them and taste yourself mixed with the earthy leather. There’s not much room to move, and Lucifer’s fingers curled around your hip and against the base of your throat keep you exactly where he wants you. All you can do is try to match his unsteady rhythm and chase the pleasure only he can offer you. You arch your back to try and draw him in deeper, so the fat tip of his cock keeps grazing that spongy spot hidden inside that makes your toes curl in your shoes.

He knows exactly what you're trying to do, but there's a lesson to be learned first. He presses down against your throat with the tiniest bit of pressure as he breathes a chuckle close to your ear. “You send me filthy messages, seduce me to come fuck you where anyone could find us, and you think you deserve to cum?”

“I couldn’t h-help it, I wanted you so bad—“

He cuts off your feeble excuses with a sharp snap of his hips, suddenly changing his pace to a deep, slow grind inside you instead of the disjointed thrusting from moments before. “Your grades aren’t good enough to be this distracted by lust, you sinful little creature.” His voice rumbles with a purr in your ear, and you know some of the annoyance is genuine. “We’re going to walk out of here, sweaty and reeking of sex, and whose fault will that be, hmm?” He bites your earlobe when you don’t respond—not enough to hurt, but enough to clear the pleasurable fog clouding your mind.

“It’s my fault,” you whimper. Your cheeks burn with frustration and humiliation in equal measure. He’s not moving at all anymore, simply warming his cock with your body while he reminds you what happens when you play these little games.

“Not such a dumb slut after all,” he murmurs. He kisses your neck and starts thrusting again, fast and rough and purposeful. The hand around your neck slides down your body and starts stroking between your legs. His hand around your hip holds you up when your knees buckle at the force of your orgasm hurtling out of nowhere.

One of your hands is braced against the stall, but you reach back with the other until your fingers find purchase in his hair, messy and damp with sweat. He groans when you tug on the black-grey locks, and he glances down so he can watch his cock disappear inside you. “Where do you want me to cum?” he asks, offering a small mercy because he knows some of his options are messier than others. “All over your pretty little ass?" He smacks you lightly and then gropes the soft, fatty flesh with his fingers in apology. "Or between your thighs?”

You shake your head desperately. “Inside, please, I wanna feel all of you. I'm so close, I can’t—“ You shake as your orgasm washes over you first. Your body squeezes him and it drags pleasure from him too, and you both cum together. You bite into the sleeve of your uniform to muffle your cries while he bites his lip and grunts through his release. He pumps his hips until he’s completely emptied. His cum starts dribbling down the inside of your thigh when his softening cock slips free.

He tucks himself back into his pants while you catch your breath. He keeps one arm wrapped around you; your legs are still trembling and he doesn't want you to fall. His other hand reaches for the handkerchief he keeps in his pocket so you can clean yourself up. He happens to glance down and he realizes there's something captivating about the way your cum-slicked thighs glisten in the harsh light overhead. He pulls his D.D.D. from his pocket instead and you look over your shoulder, brows furrowed until your eyes widen with realization. “You look charming like this," he teases with a smirk as he takes a picture. Your face and chest are blurry in the photo; the swell of your bare ass and the mess between your legs are crystal-clear. It's a lovely memento of your time together, and he can't wait for the opportunity to tease you with it when you least expect it.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #obey me smut #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

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powdermelonkeg · 4 months

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just saw ur gale/mystra analysis post. im new to the game and dnd lore and honestly… ur take on their relationship feels like the most natural/compelling one??? esp since its all too easy to simplify topics that have many facets and nuance….

thanks for sharing i love analysis and reading people’s takes on narratives : D

My pleasure! (Bee from the future here: congrats, you spawned another meta!)

I love complicated characters, WAY more than I like a clear cut-and-dry case. Flaws, to me, are what make a character compelling and lead to interesting stories about them with choices that can get them into situations. I'm both writing a fanfic and running a campaign where I'm playing as Gale, and in the interest of portraying him properly and in-character, I've gone into SUCH a deep dive into all the decisions and facts that make him him.

It helps to, y'know, also be in love with the fictional wizard, but I digress

The thing about Baldur's Gate 3 is that no character in there is perfect. I've seen a couple analyses about the theme of continuing cycles of abuse vs breaking out of them, but in my mind, in terms of the characters themselves, it goes like this:

The origin characters have just come out of the lowest situation of their lives (Lae'zel being the exception; being tadpoled is a gith's worst nightmare. You're seeing that lowest situation in real time).

Not the lowest point, mind. Gale's lowest was probably the day after he got the Orb. Wyll's was probably the day his father cast him out. Karlach's was the day she lost her heart. But the lowest, accepted normal for them is what they've just left.

They're then thrown out of their depth and forced to rely on you to live. That's #1 priority: living. We get the extremes of these characters before we get their nuances, because they're quite literally at their breaking points.

Then once we get to know them, we see their wants, their hopes, their fears, as they open up to us. Every companion's story is at their own pace, but they all have a moment where they ping-pong between despondency and desire. Sometimes that desire is what we know isn't good for them, like Shadowheart wanting to be a Dark Justiciar. Sometimes that despondency is only for a flicker, like Astarion's realization that he's condemned 7000 people to a half-life of tortured spawnhood for as long as he's been a vampire.

Romance lets us crack all that open more, because if you pursue a romantic partner, they see you as their closest confidant. They WANT to trust you, so they're more willing to explain how they see the world and what decisions they want to chase.

And then their endings. Those often get simplified as good/bad, continuing the cycle vs breaking away from it. But how is Duke Wyll on the same platform as Ascended Astarion? He's not evil, he's not even entirely unhappy. He might even have broken out of his abusive cycle with Mizora, if you played your cards right. And Ascended Astarion is overjoyed, even if he is remarkably more cold.

I think that the endings are less a dichotomy of "this is good for them" vs "this is bad for them," and more one of "bringing out their best traits" vs "bringing out their worst."

Wyll's worst trait is being willing to sacrifice his own wants for whatever people desire of him. His best is standing for what he believes in and ensuring people are safe. Duke Wyll leans into that necessity to turn the other cheek in the name of people who count on him, while the Blade of Avernus has seized that moral compass of his and forged it out of mithral.

Shadowheart's worst trait is blind obedience at the cost of her individuality, while her best is her desire to be kind to things that don't deserve to be hurt. Mother Superior Shadowheart's whole life is defined by Shar. Selûnite Shadowheart's life is defined by her hospitality, especially towards animals.

Karlach's worst trait is how willing she is to accept that things are (to quote her) fucked, letting despair override hope. Her best is her durability in the face of horror. Exploded Karlach would rather die than try to work out a solution in the Hells, because she's terrified of facing Zariel alone. Mindflayer Karlach has accepted her fate and decides to give up her heart and soul to go out a hero, losing who she is. Fury of Avernus Karlach is willing to keep fighting for a solution, and by the time the epilogue happens, she's got her sights set on one.

Astarion's worst trait is his desire for power over people. His best trait is using the tools he has to his advantage. Ascended Astarion has let his powerhungry nature and paranoia lead all of his decisions, with his sights set on dominating mankind. Spawn Astarion has embraced what he is, and carved out a life for himself where he can do as he pleases.

Lae'zel's worst trait is her blind fanaticism, while her best trait is her individual dedication, making her loyalty a marriage of the two. Ascended Lae'zel is a meal for the lich queen, turning a blind eye to all Vlaakith's tried to do to her and literally being consumed by her fervor. Champion of Orpheus Lae'zel has turned her loyalty into something productive for diplomacy. Faerûnian Lae'zel has seized her individuality by the throat and decided her own future.

And then Gale. Gale's worst traits are his hubris and, paradoxically, his low self worth. His best traits are his creativity and wonder for the world. God Gale is the embodiment of ambition, having burned away all but that in pursuit of perfection. Exploded Gale has let his remorse blot out all hope for a redemption in which he does not die, because he thinks he's earned it. Professor Gale leads his life by embracing the school of Illusion and letting his creativity thrive, teaching others to do the same. House Husband Gale has multiple creative projects he's working on, and Adventurer Gale is always finding new sights to see and wanting to share them with you.

There are arguments to be made on which ending the origins are happiest in, certainly, or which one benefits them the most, but each ending represents the extreme of a facet they possess.

So with all that, there's a sort of malleable method to figuring out the ins and outs of a character.

You take their endings—all of them, all variables they can have—and reverse-engineer the flaws and details they carry. Then you start to notice how those work into their approvals for minor things: Astarion approving of your taking of the Blood of Lathander, or Shadowheart approving of standing up for Arabella. Getting a list of approvals and disapprovals is helpful, but having those endings on hand tells you why they react like that to a majority of their decisions.

You take their romance-route explanations of how they act, and apply those to earlier decisions. Astarion's confession to manipulating you and Araj-prompted admittance to using himself as a tool brings to light how he reacts to your decisions, regardless of his actual opinions on them. Wyll's fairytale romance and love of poetic adages speaks to his idealistic nature, and why he takes a sometimes-blinded approach to decisions in which the "right" answer isn't always the smart one.

You take their beginning reactions to stress and use that to measure how future decisions impact them. Lae'zel locks down and gets snappy when she's scared, while Gale immediately turns to diplomacy. Shadowheart has gallows humor, while Wyll turns to quiet acceptance. If they break from these and seem even worse, you know the situation is more dire in their minds than having seven days to live.

And then you factor in all their fun facts and dialogue choices and backstories.

A wizard falls in love with a goddess and her magic, attempts to retrieve a piece of her power for her, is scorned for his attempt and is cursed to die.

Give that backstory to a Tav. Look at how it changes.

A chaotic good wizard fell in love with a goddess, thought retrieving a piece of power for her would be a showy bouquet of love, and was punished for not thinking things through.

A lawful evil wizard fell in love with a goddess's power, snatched the most precious thing she owned, tried to use it to barter his way through to the secrets she kept, and was given a swift retribution.

Same backstory. Same class, same act, same goddess. Wildly different connotations. Wildly different conclusions as to who is in the wrong.

If you take all there is to Gale, all that the game shows us makes up his character, and apply it to this backstory, you get what really happened:

A wizard, enamored with magic, fell in love with a goddess. His desires led him to want more than she was willing to give. In his well-buried fear of inadequacy, he concluded that the reason she wouldn't indulge his ambitions was because he just hadn't proven himself worthy enough. So he tried to prove himself, but he lacked the context for what he was proving himself with. And the goddess, seeing a weapon that had killed her predecessor, saw this ambitious wizard as losing his way and coming for her just like the weapon's creator had. She was angry, she withdrew his link to her, and he didn't know why. So he drew the conclusion that she took his powers to punish him, and let that encompass his fall from grace.

Was he wrong to reach for what was out there?

If you knew that the answers to everything you cared about were not only known, but kept by someone you loved—someone who adored you—what would you do to ask to see them? What if your curiosities were if there were other planets with life out there, or how dark matter worked, or whether or not we could one day travel in the stars? What if it was the potential cure to an illness that's little-understood, or the way to make a program you dreamt up, or the scope of the true limits of your artistic talents? Would your answer change?

Was she wrong to cut him off?

If you were once hurt, and the person you loved—the person who adored you—brought the thing that caused it to your door, believing you'd want it, how would you react to seeing it? What if that thing was someone you thought you'd broken contact with, like a friend or family member you'd been trying to avoid? Would your answer change?

That's the sort of scope that needs to be applied to this, on both sides. You have to take the perspectives of each party, and apply two analogies instead of one.

Gale saw the vastness of the universe, untold wonders, the solution to every question he could ever dream up, and saw Mystra as withholding this from him because she thought he just wasn't worthy enough. To claim Mystra knew his perspective does her a disservice.

Mystra saw a cruel weapon she thought long gone, in the hands of someone who could use it, brought right to her, and thought Gale was willingly following the path of Karsus. To claim Gale knew her perspective does him a disservice.

Should Gale have researched his prize more, so he knew just what he was obtaining? Should he have kept his hands off a cursed book that would devour him? Of course he should have.

Should he have given up on chasing his dreams?

Should Mystra have understood that Gale's pursuit of power was nothing like Karsus'? Should she have communicated when she was angry instead of giving the cold shoulder? Of course she should have.

Should she have given him the benefit of the doubt?

That's the root of their falling out. That's what leads to hurt being inflicted. Understandable, human reactions to the situations they perceive. Unhealthy, unwise choices made afterwards.

You work backwards from this to figure out their dynamic as Chosen and goddess. You work forward from this to understand more of where Gale and Mystra are during the events of Baldur's Gate 3. Gale reached too high, and understands this. His goddess hates him, and he regrets this. Mystra isolated Gale, and understands this. Her Chosen wants redemption, and she wants to make it happen.

Just like we took Gale's character into account, we also have to take Mystra's.

A goddess is faced with a problem. She uses someone who's desperate for approval to solve it, by telling him to kill himself.

An evil goddess is faced with a threat to her reign. She sees someone who's unfailingly loyal and hates himself, and elects to have him tear himself apart rather than do anything about it.

A good goddess is terrified of the future. She sees someone who tried to hurt her, who's going to die anyways, and tells him to use it to save the world.

Same story. Same act, same power, same pawn. Different character. Different perspective. Different outlook on whether or not this is the right thing to do.

Mystra has died, multiple times, to people trying to stake claim to her domain. Someone appears with the very thing that could do it again, right as she's regained her stability.

She does not see mortals the way mortals do. She is timeless. She is eternal. She has a duty to protect billions of people, and one person lost to protect that number is more than worth the sacrifice.

People like to bring up the Seven Sisters as proof of Mystra's cruelty. For those unaware, Mystra asked permission to, then possessed, a woman, used her to court a man (with dubious consent from the woman), and bore seven children, all of whom were capable of bearing Mystra's power as Chosen without dying. The woman she possessed was killed in the process (reduced to no more than a husk, then slain by her now-husband, hoping to end her suffering), and the husband was horrified by the whole story.

Mystra needed Chosen in order to restore herself in the event that she was killed again, to prevent magic as a whole from collapsing and wreaking havoc on the mortal realm, like it had in the few seconds Mystryl had been dead. Elminster, Khelben Blackstaff, and the Seven Sisters contributed to this. The more Chosen she has, the better; what happens if Elminster dies? She can't afford to have all her eggs in one basket.

Mystra has Volo (yeah, that Volo) as a Weave Anchor, imparted with a portion of her power to prevent the Weave from shredding itself to pieces in her absence. All Chosen of Mystra are Weave Anchors by nature. The creation of Weave Anchors was mandated by Ao, the Overgod, and Chosen are the best way to make sure those anchors aren't drained by ambitious people hoping for godlike power. Chosen can, and will, defend themselves, unlike static locations (which Mystra also has). The anchors are why the Weave wasn't completely obliterated during Mystra's last death, when the Spellplague rose up, because they stabilized the Weave around them.

Everything Mystra does is in the name of the big picture, to prevent a catastrophe like the fall of Netheril from happening again. Her restriction of magic, her numerous Chosen, her creation of Weave Anchors, her destruction of those who would claim her power, it's all in the name of the stability she's been charged with. Dornal Silverhand's grief and Elué Silverhand's death, while regrettable, were worth it to bring seven more anchors into existence to save all of the Material.

So someone appears with the Crown of Karsus, potentially powerful enough to try to kill the other gods in the name of the Dead Three. She can't risk being a target of them. She can't risk the destruction of magic again.

Gale is going to die. He lives in fear. He begs for forgiveness.

In Mystra's eyes, she's offering him the best outcome. She'll let him die in service to her, to save Faerûn, and she'll forgive him. He's going to die anyways, and if he does this, she'll give him everything (she thinks) he could ever want in her realm. She's asking him to do what (she thinks) is the right thing.

"She would consider what she considers to be forgiveness."

Notably, she leaves the decision in his hands. She doesn't have Elminster lead him to the Nether Brain. She doesn't activate him as soon as he's there. When he lives yet, she doesn't revoke the charm that keeps him stable. And when he declines, when he lets it go and starts pursuing Karsus' path, she doesn't smite him on the spot.

She is (she thinks) being incredibly patient. If Gale is going to try to be Karsus II, she's ready for him. If he decides to walk off and keep the Orb, he's dug his own grave in the Fugue Plane (those who don't have a god to claim them roam endlessly as husks and form a wall of bodies around the City of Judgement).

From her perspective, she's not being unreasonable. But from the perspective of a mortal, she absolutely is.

"Now, I have a question for thee: what is the worth of a single mortal's life?"

This is a question she cannot answer properly.

I think a lot of characterization is lost whenever someone paints one of them as being totally in the right. But I also think you have to be invested in them as characters to want to see that characterization. If you want to write about Mystra, you have to try to get into her head, analyze the decisions she made, figure out why she thinks she was right, and follow the pattern.

Gale's sacrifice is a very predictable thing for her to ask for.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #mystra #long post #like really long post holy hells #did not expect this to go on for this long #swearing tw #< for karlach #oh yeah #astarion #karlach #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #lae'zel #ask bee

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hyunnieshannie · 11 months

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SKZ: In Bed

A shit show of a conversation was started in my writers club discord (Feel free to join!) with @maeleelee & @d4vekat-otp so here are my unhinged thoughts about how SKZ are in bed:

CHAN: SUB / SWITCH (SUB LEANING)

-He has so much control right now, even if it may not seem like it sometimes he just needs someone else to take control.

-Needs to be loved on and pampered, he's tired of taking care of his 7 kids all day

-Would love just being told what to do

-Seriously just tell him what to do, let him turn his brain off for once.

-SO SO SO in love with a calm, sweet, after care ritual:

- cuddling,

- kisses,

-a bath,

-snackies,

-hot chocolate,

- just be gentle with him after <3

MINHO: SOFT DOM

-Everyone imagines Lino as a hard dom. me included. based on his looks and demeanor but what if we based it off how he looks at Jisung?

-Suddenly the man is softer than SoonDoonDori

-Consent is sexy KING: asks if you're okay with everything he does

-SO SO SO passionate

-Gentle unless asked not to be

-Will bring the cats in after sex to let you cuddle up to them because he loves seeing his four babies all together.

-"want me to make you a snack?"

-SO MANY KISSES

-TIGHT cuddles, man will literally NOT let you go

-Would check in to make sure you're not hurt anywhere if he got 'too rough'

-Gives you his hoodie and sweats to sleep in

-HELPS YOU change into everything because "I'm changing the saying from No one helps you once you're fucked." (he's a lil dumb sometimes, he's doing his best okay?)

CHANGBIN: SWITCH (Depending on the day)

-Loves a good rough fuck

-but GOD WOULD HE LOVE being taken care of.

-Either manhandles you with his thicc muscles

- or pouts for you to be gentle with him

-IMMACULATE aftercare (HAVE YOU SEEN HOW SWEET HE IS WITH HIS MOM AND SISTER? HE WAS RAISED RIGHT AND KNOWS HOW TO TREAT A WOMAN)

-Massages!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Bubble Baths <3

-Would CARRY you to the bath <3 (Even if you can still walk. he WILL carry you)

-HE PREPARES!!! Whether he assumes he's gonna get some, or not, hes ALWAYS prepared for what you'll need after just in case! (Like water and snacks, or advil) (he do get a little sleepy after sex please cuddle him)

-PRAISES THE FUCK OUT OF HIS PARTNER 100% SO SO SWEET. "You're doing so good," "You take me so well" JKBDSFJKBVSFKJBGSKJDFVBG

HYUNJIN: SERVICE TOP / SOFT DOM

-Soft boy, Shy when people compliment his looks BUT

-Behind closed doors, he KNOWS. He KNOWS hes hot. and uses it against you

-He's a slut (lovingly)

-LOVES roleplay LOVES being a character so he can forget he was shy earlier about receiving a compliment

-PRAISES YOU "you're so perfect." | "More beautiful than any art piece in any museum" | "Made just for me,"

-SENSUAL ASF

-He wants to be in control, but doesn't want to hurt you ever, only wants to make you feel good

-Will sketch you naked while you look fucked out (paint me like one of your french girls)

-The Most EXTREME Aftercare (it's such a long process)

-Will not let you lift a single finger, while he massages you, helps you bathe, puts lotion on you, gives you a face mask, changes you, and ultimately puts you to bed

-KISSES ALL OVER YOUR FACE before you fall asleep <3

JISUNG: SOFT DOM

-STOP DOING HANJI WRONG AND CALLING HIM BITCHLESS, WHO ARE WE KIDDING? HES NOT BITCHLESS AND WE ALL KNOW IT

-BIAS WRECKS EVERYONE EVERY SINGLE CB? EVEN IF JISUNG ISN'T YOUR BIAS... HE'S STILL YOUR BIAS.

-JISUNG MAY BE SHY BUT HE KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING.

-LOVES EDGING. (Ignores us on bubble forever, knows we want him, knows EXACTLY when to drop content, and leave us begging him for more)

-HEAD GAME STRONG. PROVE ME WRONG RN.

-LOVES watching you beg for him. "I don't think you deserve it though-"

-WHORE (lovingly)

-WOULD SEXT YOU WHILE EITHER ONE OF YOU IS IN AN IMPORTANT MEETING "How bad do you want me right now?"

-AFTER CARE INCLUDES CUDDLES AND ANIME

-LIKE SO MUCH ANIME (FOKN WEEB)

-Showers TOGETHER. you're not allowed to go in there alone wtf??

FELIX: HARD DOM. / BRAT TAMER

-WHY EVERYONE THINK HES A SUB??

-HATES being seen as a pretty, fragile, princess

-NEEDS to take out his frustrations but what BETTER way than to show his partner whos in charge (Spoiler: It's Him.)

-The type to fuck you against the wall

-Seriously. He wants to pick you up and fuck you against any flat surface he can find- especially- when you piss him off.

-Leaves SO MANY marks on you. "Everyone needs to know who you belong to."

-LOVES face fucking. L O V E S it

-PRAISES YOU (if you deserve it) "Just like that, you're doing so good"

-IF YOU DONT DESERVE IT THO: "Stupid little whore, forgot whos in charge again huh?" (NOT HAPPY. STILL SO HOT OF HIM THO)

-SWEET BABY DURING AFTERCARE, WHOLE 180 CHANGE, "Baby what do you need?" "are you ok my love?" "Thank you for letting me get my anger out..." SO SO SO SO SO SOFT

SEUNGMIN: HARD DOM. FULL ON SADIST.

-Man isn't just a dom. He's a mother fucking SADIST

-Teases you until you cry

-LOVES making you angry/frustrated

-LOVES watching you fight back (like the brat you are)

-LOVES it more to see you lose the fight (Source: Trust me bro)

-TOYS TOYS TOYS.

-LOVES Using toys to overstimulate you.

-THE TYPE TO DO GUIDED MASTRUBATION

-LOVES the power he has over you!!!!!!!!!

-DENIAL. DENIAL. DENIAL. THIS IS BEYOND EDGING. ONE WRONG MOVE AND HE WILL DENY YOU AT LEAST 7 TIMES.

-JEALOUS FUCKING. "so you wanna act up in front of other guys? REMEMBER who fucking OWNS you."

-AFTERCARE IS SO NICE WITH HIM THO. HES A TOTAL PUPPY. Following you around to make sure you're okay, like a dog with its tail between its legs he needs lots of attention, cuddles and kisses. He loves you SO Much, he can't help his jealousy issues...

JEONGIN: HARD DOM

-DOESNT want to be Baby bread. HES SAID IT. (he wants to be Daddy Toast fr)

-Hes SO innocent looking? RED FLAG. HES 100% A WHORE (Lovingly)

-LOVES using his hands and his tongue

-Will over stimulate you with them before he even THINKS of fucking you

-When he DOES fuck you, the grip he has on your body will leave bruises on you for a week

-WOULD MARK YOU SO MUCH

-Wants YOU to mark him in forms of hickeys or scratches

-CHOKING - HAVE YOU SEEN HIS HANDS???????????? (Chanting: BREATH PLAY, BREATH PLAY, BREATH PLAY yeah. Im part of the breath play cult...)

-ALL THE KINKS, HES A FUCKING F R E A K "You see me as a baby? I'm about to prove you wrong little fox."

-WANTS YOU TO WEAR A FUCKING COLLAR WITH HIS NAME ON THE TAG. "You're mine. don't fucking forget it."

-SUCH A BABY DURING AFTERCARE. WANTS CUDDLES, WOULD NUZZLE INTO YOU, BABY FOX IS VERY SHY AFTER LETTING OUT HIS DOM SIDE ON YOU.

Tags @chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup

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jiminrings · 2 years

Text

fifth wish

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 18k

glimpse: jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead?

alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.

[ angst, unrequited love (at first), emotional constipation, jk is Very Frustrating to be with, so much pining, the constant repetition of the notion that one must amount to something to be deserving of love, rlly wholesome fluff, mentions of blood n injuries, whole 360 redemption arc dw i am not evil ]

notes: i’m back :) this belongs to the take five universe (take five feat. yoongi, nine to five feat. jimin) n although it’s a completely different jungkook, it’s still on the same vein!! thank u for waiting for me <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :)

Jungkook reminds you that love is unfair.

He reminds you that love is unfair in the same way you remember that you don’t belong to his world. He’s the walking proof that it’s possible to have everything without suffering, and as much as it isn’t his fault that he was born to it, it irks you.

You don’t hate Jungkook, no. It’s much more complex than that, something to do with the bitterness in your mind and heart from doing everything only to barely equate to what Jungkook– people like Jungkook — get for doing nothing.

You don’t hate Jungkook, he’s tolerable. He’s loving to the people dear to him; stuck-up most of the time but won’t go out of his way just to be an asshole. He can hold conversations with you, sometimes steering outside the parameters of you being his bodyguard and him being your boss. He’s rude at times but he’s tolerable — it’s the best of what you could get from people like him.

What you hate about him is that he probably hasn’t had a bad day ever in his life.

You don’t know him to an intimate degree but you know, you know that Jungkook has not worked extremely hard for anything ever in his life. He hasn’t fought for anything because he didn’t have to.

Maybe it’s just a bad day for you today, accidentally scrolling past an article that detailed about your abrupt exit from the fighting scene. It makes your throat constrict when you skim through it for a second and register the exact words that have once crossed your mind before in a fit of insecurity; you were cowardly and cheap for leaving the octagon to become a glorified babysitter for Jeon Jungkook.

Perhaps it’s such a bad day for you today that even when you think about how your job as a bodyguard pays so much more than your occupation as a fighter, it does nothing. The lack of fatigue from guarding a nepotism baby outweighs your body more than the injuries you’ve gotten throughout your career.

Despite being stagnant in the water instead of flailing around, you have never been more afloat than now. You’re financially and physically stable more than ever and it’s because you protect, not fight.

Even if you hate him sometimes, you protect Jungkook with your whole life. You guard him like your life depended on it because for so long, it’s been ingrained in your head that it was either do or die. That if you don’t work hard enough, there won’t be food on the table. That if you don’t fight desperately and harshly enough, no one would be able to take care of the people you’ll leave in your wake.

You do your best when you follow Jungkook to bars and assess everyone in there in the process, prioritizing your regard for his safety more than his remarks of you being a cockblock. You adhere to instinct and hold him by the waist in crowded places, even if he grumbles that you’re spoiling his game.

You pour your all when you accompany Jungkook to a private fitting and wait for him outside of the dressing room, patiently anticipating what he’d look like in a suit meant to accept an award for being one of the most influential individuals in this generation. You don’t know exactly what constitutes to him being influential besides being himself, but perhaps his existence itself is what’s most outstanding about him.

You pour so much of yourself that when Jungkook steps out of the dressing room, you smile at him fondly, sincerely.

You give so much of yourself that protecting Jungkook has become synonymous to falling for him.

You think love is unfair because it’s biased. It’s cruel and it chooses because love is simply not for everyone. Love is not for the weak.

Love is unfair because it finds its way to you in the form of him. You are what makes love weak, and Jungkook is what makes it cruel.

Jungkook’s parents aren’t too bad.

They’re filthy rich to start off, but they do have the grasp of when and when not to let the smell of money block their sinuses. They’re even kinder and more self-aware (surprisingly) than their son and for as low as the bar can go when it comes to people in the one percent, they exceed your expectations and more.

Mr. and Mrs. Jeon listen to whatever you have to say. They give you and the staff gift baskets for no reason, each one different from the other and handpicked by themselves because even their personal assistants are surprised with their own. They’re attentive and have no qualms in giving paid leaves whenever someone’s involved in personal difficulties.

Mr. and Mrs. Jeon value your opinion too much that they’ve become casual to the point that they could have uncoded conversations in front of you, no matter how concerning the context could be.

“Jungkook badly needs an intervention.”

Mrs. Jeon says it casually like she’s just pointing out that the clouds look like sloths driving a pickup truck and whatnot (her husband calls them ‘my wife’s silly sloth thoughts’), shallow wrinkles present between her eyebrows.

“That boy seriously needs to get his act together,” she adds, sighing as she slouches further to the couch. Mrs. Jeon tuts, crossing her arms and turning her head to Mr. Jeon, you presume. “Our son really needs intervention, don’t you think? Right, Y/N?”

The thing with Mrs. Jeon is that she has a penchant of talking to herself, obvious to where Jungkook got it from. She still looks so dignified and obscenely rich to you as she’s sprawled messily on the couch and in her sweats with ice cream stains on it, but with the sudden mention of your name, you realize that you’re not so intimidated anymore.

You look back at Mr. Jeon (in matching pajamas) who’s just nodding at you to agree, because regardless or not if he baited you to agree with his wife, you would’ve coincided with the head of the house nonetheless.

Jungkook, in simple terms, has been out of control lately.

“Yes, Mrs. Jeon.”

It’s no surprise that Jungkook’s a little hard to reign in, but what shocks you the most is that his parents even gave him a fighting chance to prove to them that he’d do fine by himself without any security detail. Even before you came into the picture, Jungkook’s been complaining for years that he can’t move outside without being shadowed. And he was listened to, of course he was listened to, but the past week is testament to how he can’t do well by himself.

A week, just one week of Jungkook proving that he can fend for himself without bringing any unnecessary drama to himself and his family name.

Night after night for the whole week he ends up on the news. Last night it was him being recorded singing his lungs out on top of a table while being piss-drunk, found relatable by most people because it humanizes the Jeon Jungkook, but repulsive by everyone else. The night before that, it was him gate-crashing a wedding reception with a suit that trumps even the groom himself. He wasn’t drunk, no – he simply felt like it. He wanted to play evening golf despite hating the sport, heard that the place was booked by a couple who worked half a decade to secure the place for their future wedding, and decided point-blank to buy a suit and show up unannounced.

He was being harder to reign in, even harder to do so in the process because he’s such a public figure.

“He needs someone to repair his image,” Mrs. Jeon sighs with resignment, knowing that her son might take change from someone other than family for a change. “Someone strong enough to handle him, both publicly and privately.”

“Like a bodyguard, you mean?” Mr. Jeon chuckles, throwing his head back in laughter. “Dear, we already have Y/N for Jungkook.”

The two of them giggle at the realization that they just had a long-winded conversation in describing a bodyguard, to whom Jungkook already has in the form of you.

It was just like yesterday when you were the esteemed MMA fighter, barely realizing that it’s already been half a year since you left the octagon. Six months ago you were bruised and bloodied yet you were winning like you usually do, the night being every other high-stakes fight night except the only difference was that Jungkook was sitting in front row.

You were the talk of the night as much as he was because despite already winning the fight against your opponent, another fight broke out just minutes after. The fighter from the undercard match stuck around in the venue until your main event finished, then angrily charged at Jungkook because he apparently slept with said fighter’s girlfriend. (Read: Jungkook did sleep with the girl but in his defense, he didn’t know she had a boyfriend — much less a professional fighter for one!)

Before you knew it, you were already jumping the fence to cut your interview short and to get Jungkook away from the commotion, instead taking the hit for him yet before you could retaliate, the impromptu fight was already called off — the fighter who attacked you was suspended, and you became the subject of praise.

Do you know Jungkook from the news? Yes. He’s the one and only nepotism baby. Do you know Jeon Jungkook personally? No.

The clip of you jumping in to defend Jungkook has garnered so much attention that it became the talk even outside of the MMA scene, your following ridiculously growing overnight. Jungkook’s parents, from sheer and excessive gratitude and remorse, offered (more on insisted) to give you a monetary award privately, but also a job.

A job that would pay you more than professional fighting ever could, and a job that even extended to Seokjin, your handler who’d go with you until the ends of the world — who’s now the head of security for the whole detail of the Jeon family.

It’s a little complex; just a slightly funny, extremely-worrying turn of events from the past six months that flipped your life and pushed you where you are now. Not bruised and bloodied while wearing a uniform, listening to Mr. and Mrs. Jeon casually talk with you and in front of you.

“I mean a girlfriend, dummy. Maybe love could change Jungkook,” Mrs. Jeon shrugs, racking her head for any possible candidates.

“A fake girlfriend for the cameras? Or do you wanna actually marry him off to someone?” Mr. Jeon seems hesitant, making you realize that he cares more for his son than he lets out to be because he isn’t as affectionate as his wife.

“No, not that far of course,” she remedies instantly, sitting straight on the couch. “Just a fake girlfriend.”

“It should be someone we can trust though,” Mr. Jeon hums, literally looking up at the ceiling as if there’s a word bubble to physically show that he really is thinking, yet another quirk that Jungkook also has. “Someone unproblematic and lovable by the media too.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Mrs. Jeon agrees instantly. “Jungkook needs someone humble. Someone kind.”

“Jungkook needs someone stronger than him.”

You’ve been so engrossed in their conversation that you notice the moment the atmosphere changed, two heads turning to look in your direction with wide eyes.

“This is private, I’m sorry. Excuse-…” you blurt because you realize you’ve just been caught eavesdropping, their lightbulb moment yet to shine on you.

“No, no. It’s not private,” Mrs. Jeon placates you, a breathless chuckle leaving her. It makes sense — it makes absolute sense. A fake girlfriend for the cameras: someone already bearing aforementioned qualities standing just five feet away from them.

“Sit down, dearie,” they coo with the same wide, excited eyes, practically pulling you down to sit between the two of them. “Hear us out.”

It’s surprising to know that at the prospect of a perfect candidate for a fake girlfriend, Jungkook’s parents’ first choice is you.

Some of the parameters of the contract were already brainstormed on the spot, including the obvious non-disclosure nature of it, your even higher pay, and the duration of it only lasting for six months. Your personal information besides the bits that the public already knew of from your fighting career (and the bits you aren’t comfortable in sharing) would be safeguarded. The living situation didn’t need much clarifications, considering you already resided in Jungkook’s residence anyway, in the main house and right on the floor below his bedroom (instead of the employees’ quarters) given the nature of your job.

Dropping the honorifics isn’t that big of a shock either, you already talk shit about Jungkook to Seokjin anyway whenever he was especially difficult.

What’s more surprising is that you agreed.

In the same way that you don’t know what possessed you when you took a hit for Jungkook six months ago, you agreed. You’re still Jungkook’s bodyguard, technically, working two jobs at this point. You can’t decipher if it’s greed or genuine eagerness that compelled you to be this invested, but you let it happen anyway.

What’s most surprising is that Jungkook seemingly has no qualms with the whole thing.

In an effort to acquaint with him better, you knock on his door to call him down for dinner instead of texting him, his eyebrows raised when he sees you waiting for him outside his door. He just knew of the contract his morning and signed it at the same time, the fake dating contracting being agreed upon as quick as the idea of it was pitched.

“Are you gonna put me on a headlock when I run away from you or something?” Jungkook narrows his eyes at you, his irritation as transparent as his face now that it’s evident he was fresh from a shower, seemingly the reason why he took so long to answer and not because he hated you — you hope.

“No, it’s stated in the contract. Even if it wasn’t, I won’t use force on you, y’know?” you laugh, feeling lighter now that you know Jungkook isn’t in a prissy mood today. You’re amused until your eyes wander, sinking in that Jungkook’s wearing clothes that aren’t pajamas, his watch that he only wears outdoors adorning his wrist. Now that you think about it, Jungkook’s hair is glistening not because he took a shower, but because he’s spent minutes styling it with gel.

It takes two seconds for you to put things together, and it takes Jungkook three to realize that you already caught onto him.

You know he’s planning to make a run for it so you pull him back with your hands snug on his waist, Jungkook barely making it two steps away from you before being trapped. “Except for this though. This one’s in the contract.”

He groans and tries to wriggle free but to no avail, staying rooted with the grip you have around him. If he uses his brain just a second more and thinks of you as a girlfriend instead of a bodyguard, technically, you are hugging him from behind.

“Your parents personally told me to hold you back from partying.”

“What a filial bodyguard,” he sighs, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “You’re not exactly making your boyfriend happy at the moment.”

“Sorry,” you squeak, feeling Jungkook budge against you. “I’ll let you go if you promise not to make a run for it.”

“I’m not promising shit to you,” he huffs, giving up on making you let go of him and crossing his arms instead.

Maybe Jungkook does have qualms.

“Do you want to get out of the house?” you ask to test the waters, getting the sentiment that Jungkook’s tired of his own walls and going out is his way to keep himself sane.

“Bodyguard, girlfriend, and detective? Wow, look at you go,” he mutters, the warmth creeping up to his throat little by little because you don’t seem to notice that you’re still holding him.

“Dinner with me in a restaurant outside, or dinner by yourself at home?”

“A knife so I could stab myself in the pancreas.”

You sigh at your silly thought that Jungkook would even give you a decent response, about to apologize when he utilizes your split second of distraction to break away from you, only for you to tug him back to your embrace even tighter to the point your chest touches his back.

“You don’t have to hold me so tight,” Jungkook snickers, putting your hands away from his waist as he waves you away to get his dinner so he could eat it in his room, finally getting free. “Barely the first day and you’re already in love with me.”

( ♡ )

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

Wrong. Absolutely incorrect, wrong, and falsified. When you’re in Rome, do as what Jungkook does.

Jet lag, despite being in a private one without the stress of sharing the same cabin air as screaming toddlers and feet-on-the-armrest passengers, is still jet lag. However, if you are a nepo baby named Jeon Jungkook who acts as if your throat would close up if you do not wander as soon as you land after a 19-hour flight with two transfers, your bodyguard who’s also your (fake) girlfriend’s jet lag doesn’t mean shit.

You would be more inclined to look at your surroundings and let yourself get swayed into buying trinkets if only Jungkook doesn’t get antsy if he stands in one spot for more than two minutes. Your head’s pounding from the fatigue more than it would pound in a headlock, getting blisters even if your shoes have been worn-in already. Seokjin was back in the hotel, probably having the time of his life knowing that he didn’t have to escort the brat.

“What business do you have here? In Rome, of all places?” you ask curiously, knowing that he had no official matters to attend to.

“None of yours,” Jungkook quips playfully, finishing with a scoff and throwing a look behind his shoulder.

Oh. You look absolutely spent.

Jungkook relents when you completely stop behind him with a dead look in your gaze, no longer following him even if he tells you repeatedly that he’s going to walk without you. He would push through with it, if only he didn’t feel unsafe without you shadowing him. He beckons you over, sighing heavily to give you an answer that wasn’t snarky. “One of my exes is the daughter of this guy who owns this brand. There’s a show.”

“A little more specific, please?” you hum, regaining the energy to walk side by side with him. The streets are noisy tonight, lively and warm and cold at the same time but you will yourself to only focus on Jungkook, your (fake) boyfriend who’s only getting more ticked by the minute. In fact, you don’t even know where and why you’re walking, you’re just following Jungkook because it’s obvious that this isn’t his first time here. “You’re this excited over a show? Didn’t you say couture was another term for fugly?”

“I’m getting laid tonight with my heiress ex. Yay!” Jungkook finally bursts, sounding ultimately sarcastic with his delivery but by the way he screws his eyes shut and sighs, you know it’s only truth underneath it.

“Jungkook,” you mumble, steps faltering that even he notices your sudden shift of mood. “We’re supposed to be dating.”

You don’t say it with anger but you say it with resoluteness. If only you could hear yourself right now, you would hear just how upset you sound, physique devoid of your usual playfulness. You are upset, you just don’t know if you have the actual right to be.

“Fake dating,” Jungkook corrects, subduing his tone to match your somberness. “There’s nothing in the contract that says we have to do it for real, obviously.”

“But it also says there that we shouldn’t jeopardize our relationship in public even if it’s for the cameras,” you counter, sounding more sure of yourself because you’ve spent days analyzing the contract, knowing each in and out of it by heart.

“Well it’s not like I’m gonna fuck Sumi in a park bench outside,” he snorts, tucking his hands into the coat of his pocket with a hint of anger. Jungkook clenches his jaw as if you were the one who insulted him, pointing upwards right beside him. “We’re fucking here.”

You look up to see your hotel, realizing that the two of you just walked around the whole four blocks for him to do what he pleased. “Here? In the same hotel we’re already at?”

“In my room, duh. I’m not stupid enough to get another room under my name.”

“But Jungkook I’m in our room! I’m the supposed girlfriend!” you exclaim much louder than you intended to, earning his hand over your mask for you to pipe down. Neither of you are making any move to enter the hotel just yet, instead in the middle of the plaza where you feel like one of your veins is going to pop.

“Seokjin’s room is just right down the hall. Just stay with him for the night,” he says it like it’s the most obvious alternative and the plan from the start.

“But-“

“Sumi already knows about the whole ordeal! She keeps secrets, she’s safe, we’re safe. No one knows anything,” Jungkook rants, his eyes speaking for his giddiness despite being disguised underneath a cap and a mask.

You stare at Jungkook for a good minute. There’s no telling whether it was a minute or an hour but for the time you have Jungkook now, until he kicks you out of your shared suite to accommodate his ex, you try to think how the next six months of your life would go.

Jungkook feels bare and vulnerable underneath your gaze, his hand covering his nape as he clears his throat, remembering why he’s in the middle of the plaza. “Speaking of safe, I need to buy condoms.”

“Just get Seokjin to do that for you,” you quietly reply, certain that seeing your (fake) boyfriend buying condoms not meant for you right in front of your face is just gonna add more insult to the injury.

“Nah. Don’t want to disturb the guy.”

“But you want me to crash in his room suddenly?”

There’s a knot in your throat you don’t bother clearing, choosing to look away when Jungkook buffers in his movements from looking at you to marching to the convenience store. You feel small in your uniform, maybe even a little helpless. Your heart shouldn’t ache this much, it’s probably just all of the jet lag crashing down on you.

Jungkook returns to your side without a fuss, holding a plastic bag that you don’t even want to take a peek at. You don’t move until he does and well, Jungkook doesn’t even know how he’s gonna take the short walk to the hotel without all your usual chattering.

He walks tentatively, trying to take a peek at you from any reflective surface. You only walk behind him when he’s three steps in and in his haste to look at you again, he becomes instantly distracted, halting the both of you again erratically like he did with all the shops earlier.

“Wait, wait! Wishing well!” he almost shrieks, forgetting that you’re not in the fuzz to rush him in the first place. You jog behind him, his steps jittery because it’s been awhile since he’s seen the Trevi Fountain.

Jungkook dodges past the tourists (it’s his tenth time here, he feels like he’s a better tourist than everyone) and gets right in front of the fountain, digging for the spare change he had in his pocket. He clasps his hands together tightly, screwing his eyes shut as he mumbled under his breath, finally throwing his coin.

In this light, Jungkook looks the most human you’ve ever seen him. He looks the most relatable and tangible version of himself that you’ve ever seen; his hands clasped praying his wish upon a coin, trusting whatever it is to luck.

Wishing, when it comes from Jungkook and people like him, is trivial. Wishing, when it comes to people to the likes of you, is hopeless.

Maybe you’ve long stopped wishing when your birthdays didn’t even have cakes and candles to wish upon, or when your pockets had no change at all to begin with. Wishes didn’t get you where you are now — your pain did. You don’t know what Jungkook could ever wish for with everything in his grasp, and perhaps that’s what makes you curious the most.

“What’d you wish for?”

Jungkook smiles faintly, a strength behind it that you can’t discern.

“To break up with you.”

Seokjin likes having you around — that much you can tell because when you left the fighting scene, so did he.

He does love having you around but it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t question your presence, especially when he thought all this time that he’d get this deluxe room all to himself but here you are, starfished in the middle of his bed that he just sprayed his sleeping mist on.

“By the way, why are you here?” he finally addresses you thirty minutes after you knocked on his room, hugged him, took bites of his dinner, showered, and passed out on his bed.

“Jungkook’s fucking his ex in our room.”

Seokjin hums in acknowledgement, not exactly surprised. He repeats your words in his head but halfway into it he backtracks, titling his head in confusion. “Our?” he laughs, perplexed by how you worded it. “It’s a suite alright, but the two of you sleep in separate bedrooms.”

“It still counts. That’s our room,” you huff, your frown visible even if you’re still face down on his sheets. “My boyfriend’s dicking down his ex right now.”

“Don’t get too carried away, Y/N,” Seokjin sing-songs, knowing by now that your wording isn’t just a fluke. “You still have that crush on him?”

“I do, fuck!” you enunciate in a sudden burst of frustration, hammering your legs down on the bed that makes Seokjin laugh because it looks you’re doing a half-assed worm. “Something must be very wrong with me.”

Seokjin hasn’t seen you this unsure and vulnerable for a long time.

Your friend chuckles, oblivious to how he’s worried for you because you genuinely think you’re going to sleep in this position.

“Mhmm. You’re right,” he jokingly agrees, using his surreal strength as your coach to flip you so you wouldn’t suffocate, flicking your forehead afterwards. “Something must be very wrong with you.”

Jungkook’s perfume irks you.

It’s too floral and too sweet and clearly does not belong to him, making you hold your breath for the brief second that he walks past you. It doesn’t smell like him and what’s worse is that you can practically taste the proof of Sumi in your mouth, reminding you that Jungkook did kick you out of your shared suite two nights ago and it wasn’t just a figment of your imagination.

“Jungkook, your engagements are all up,” Mrs. Jeon exclaims, tilting her head every now and then at her phone.

“Aren’t they always?” he chuckles dryly, awkwardly pinching his ear out of habit because he felt that you were too quiet.

“Well I mean yes, but all for the wrong reasons as you can tell lately,” she counters, a slight bite to her tone before she gets distracted again by yet another positive comment about her son. “But lately it’s good,” Mrs. Jeon hums. “All great, really. People love now that Y/N’s in the picture.”

“I don’t care what people say about me,” he murmurs, conveniently defending himself as soon as your name was mentioned. His mother raises an eyebrow, the both of them knowing that it’s the furthest thing from the truth.

“Okay maybe I do care a little.”

“What did they say?” you pipe up shyly, Jungkook jolting in his seat and gaining the sense to move a little so you could take a peek at his mother’s screen. Mrs. Jeon becomes even more energetic at your participation because she did notice that you’re uncharacteristically stiff, huddling closer to Jungkook so he’s squished between the two of you.

“That you’re perfect together,” she lists, putting her phone farther so you could read. “Wow, I never knew that MMA champion Y/N Y/L/N would end up with Jeon Jungkook of all people, but if they break up, I will be lining up at her door.”

Jungkook scoffs under his breath, unknown to himself if he’s scoffing because he isn’t the only one at the center of attention, or because people think that he’s just that disposable to you.

“An odd match at first really, but I bet Jungkook fell in love first! If you had Y/N as your bodyguard, who wouldn’t?”

“Next,” Jungkook grumbles.

“I hope Y/N knocks out Jungkook into next week-“

“Okay, okay, I get it! These people want you to stomp on me so badly,” he frowns, sparing a glance at you who has an amused smile on your face. This isn’t the first conversation you’ve had since his night with Sumi, but it’s the first interaction you had where you aren’t irked when he’s looking at you.

“I won’t do that,” you assure him, politely fetching the device Mrs. Jeon hands you, Jungkook perching over your shoulder this time. He still smells like her and unlike himself but you’ve learned to tune it out, pushing yourself to be indifferent.

“They’re sweet about it,” you mumble to no one in particular. “Do we look sweet to them?”

“Somehow we look sweet,” Jungkook answers, unconsciously scooting over to invade your space more to the point that his head’s almost bumping yours. “They’re freaking out about your hand on my back. Isn’t that what all bodyguards do?”

“I’m not only your bodyguard though,” you remind, voice lowering towards the end but quickly put it up before you get upset again. “But yeah, a little over the top. They’re screaming about us bumping shoulders but you don’t even hold my hand.”

Mrs. Jeon gets her reaction out even before her son could defend himself, eyes widening. “You don’t even hold Y/N’s hand?” “Hold it! Try it right now.”

She snatches Jungkook’s hand quickly, beckoning you for yours and entangles them together like you’re preschoolers being forced to make up after a fight, the whole abruptness of the situation making you choke silently.

There’s an awkward bout of silence between the two of you (three if you count Mrs. Jeon but she’s trying her best not to breathe so she’d blend into the background) that you can’t grasp, only being broken as soon as Jungkook says the first thing in his mind.

“Your hands are rough, ew,” his eyebrows furrow, late to register the look in your face that is so heartbreaking, it makes you recoil. “Get a manicure or something.”

You tug your hand away roughly as if you’re physically burnt to the touch, balling both of them into a fist and keeping them at your sides as small as you could, away from sight. Jungkook’s right, they are rough. You don’t have to open them to know that there’s callouses and faint marks of cuts and bruises on them.

They’re hard and beaten from work, not needing to look down on them again to know that perhaps in Jungkook’s life, your hand is the roughest he’s held. They’re not like Sumi’s and most certainly not like the hands of the people in his life — manicured, flawless, and graceful.

“Jungkook,” his mother hisses to scold him, belatedly realizing that you’re back to being quiet again from the single comment that left his lips.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Mrs. Jeon apologizes, throwing a venomous look to her own son at the side. “Did Jungkook give you a hard time in Rome? Any incidents?” she asks with kind eyes, lips enveloped because she can’t move past Jungkook’s dumb comment about your hands. “You can tell me whether it’s from a girlfriend perspective or a bodyguard perspective.”

Jungkook looks at you, eyes slightly ashamed, waiting to see if you’d tell his mother about him. If you’d rat him out for kicking you out of your shared suite so he could get laid by his ex-girlfriend; if you’d tell her about how he brought you along to buy condoms for the exact occasion.

But the thing is, you don’t. Just as rough as your hands are, you answer quickly and as sincerely as you could, excusing yourself right after.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Jeon. Jungkook didn’t give me any worries.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook knows to himself that he’s insufferable.

And for some odd reason unknown to him, you still stay with him despite being insufferable.

He knows when a job is a job with the way his previous bodyguards would hold him with an iron grip to weave through crowds that weren’t big in the first place. He knows when a task is a task with how as soon as his schedule for the day is finished, there won’t be a single inquiry or care allotted for his wellbeing.

He knows when people care for him just because they do.

Nobody forced you to jump in to ultimately defend him from getting knocked out on live television. Nobody forced you to take his parents’ offer of working for him, and most importantly, nobody forced you to stay.

You were dutiful to say the least, but for odd reasons unknown to him, you’re passionate even for the things that seemingly are just passing things in your life.

He’s pretty sure you caught onto him zoning out and staring at the side of your face, feeling your inquiring gaze turn to him to see if he needed you or not.

“Oh,” Jungkook snaps out of it, redirecting to make it seem that he’s thinking of something else entirely. “You’re not dressed up?”

“Do you want me to?” you return the question, looking outside the limousine to see if you’re close to the venue and if you had time to change in case Jungkook wanted you to.

“Nah, do what you want. I don’t really care about it,” Jungkook says a half-truth, realizing that his “save” gave him even more reason to think about you. “I was just curious about what you looked like when you aren’t wearing that.”

There were only three uniform options available — one’s a black polo shirt with tactical pants for when it was a casual outing (but Jungkook’s outings were barely casual), the other’s a button-up with trousers for when media’s expected, and the last is what you and Seokjin were wearing now; a well-fitted suit for high-class events wherein you had to accompany Jungkook and need to escort him closely regardless of the audience.

“Why are you dressed like a bodyguard anyways? Aren’t we making an appearance together?”

You resist the urge to smile, an odd reversal of roles because it’s Jungkook who recognizes now that you’re his (fake) girlfriend and not only his bodyguard.

“I still need to show that I’m serious about my job.”

“When are you not ever serious about your job?” he questions seriously, brows furrowed because he genuinely can’t recall any instance where you didn’t put him first.

“Your safety’s still my number one priority,” you answer truthfully, hearing the emerging chatter now that you were getting close to the drop-off. Your eyes inconveniently follow one of Jungkook’s numerous exes who wears an elegant designer dress, one that you wish you could wear in your lifetime. You snap out of it soon enough. “My holster would be visible if I wear a dress.”

“That’s kinda hot,” he snorts, “Do you still want to dress up? Regardless if people cared about your holster showing?”

“Maybe,” you hum. “If I dressed up though, that means I’d walk beside you.”

It’s a nice vision to think of, something you don’t even know would come to actuality if the time comes.

“Do you want that? Me walking beside you?”

“You always walk beside me,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, a giggle leaving him heartily.

“Have you ever learned how to read between the lines?” you return the playful attitude, clearing your throat. “I mean, do you want me to walk beside you as your girlfriend in a pretty dress?”

“Honestly?” he repeats, fixing his suit. “No. I don’t think so.” (Read: even if the circumstances were different, I don’t think it’s worth having you around me.)

You’ve only ever walked beside Jungkook in your uniform, as a bodyguard. Not a girlfriend.

You’re too busy and you still haven’t gotten a manicure. They’re still riddled with callouses from sparring with Seokjin to keep both of your skills and physique in check.

All you know is how to fight and to protect. You know how to love, that much you know, but you don’t know if Jungkook knows how to accept love if it’s coming from you.

“Come on, having me as your girlfriend isn’t that bad, right?”

You ask thickly, head tilting as if it would help gauging the answer out of Jungkook better. You don’t have to adjust your head though; with the way he gives you a pitiful half-smile, you already know.

You wince inwardly, masking the lump in your throat as a laugh.

“It is?”

“A little,” Jungkook relents, finding the will in him to joke around with you. “Don’t get angry with me. Don’t headlock me like you did with Son at that 2019 fight.”

“You know that fight?” you answer with a chuckle, the random detail catching you off-guard.

“Duh. Everyone and their mother knows about that fight. A knockout on the second round? Jeez.”

Jungkook sounds the most attainable right now despite being worlds apart, the physical boundary between the two of you apparent. He sounds warm, just as domestic as a boyfriend in a car ride who knows random things about you.

“Having me as your girlfriend isn’t that bad if you know these things about me.”

“Your fights are public knowledge.”

“Then what’s so bad about me being your girlfriend?” you question, tucking your lips together to not let out any whimper in case he knocks you off-guard again.

“You’re too strong but you’re just so sensitive, if that makes sense. Too committed. You don’t have an off switch. You’re just so you,” Jungkook blurts out, careful of his words but at the same time frantic to say them outloud because he never thought you’d ask him this. “You just don’t know when to give up.”

It’s like Jungkook knows every insecurity you’ve ever had from the way he said it.

“Okay,” you meekly answer, the resignment in your voice lying underneath but the tiny bit of hope sinks it further. “If I wasn’t your bodyguard, would you still date me?”

“Fake date,” Jungkook corrects, chuckling because you always seem to forget the word that defines your status. “No. I don’t think I’d date you.”

Jungkook moves far on too quickly with his words that you’re unable to process the momentary heartbreak that comes along with his admission, blinking away the inevitable shock.

“How about me? If you weren’t my bodyguard, would you agree to fake date me?”

“Yeah,” you answer without a doubt, the careless shrug that tops it just cementing that there’s no thought needed. You answer just when the car nears to a stop, making Jungkook halt before the driver even hits the brakes. “I’d date you.”

The numbness starts from your hands, moving into autopilot as you meet Seokjin and the rest when Jungkook comes down. The impromptu intimate conversation should be the last thing in your mind — it shouldn’t matter to you when it doesn’t to Jungkook.

Everyone’s lively as you tail him until he gets to his assigned seat, stopping instantly when he sees the giant centerpiece of a fountain in the garden.

“Coins! Give me coins, please,” Jungkook urges you, either oblivious or uncaring to the sudden weight in your steps from his words.

“Don’t you have your wallet with you?”

“I do, but I don’t carry coins.”

You sigh in defeat, fishing out your wallet from your pocket where you keep some loose change.

In the same manner of his first wish, Jungkook screws his eyes shut and clenches his fists together, whispering to his hands before he gracefully throws the coin to the illuminated water.

“What was your wish?” you silently ask just like the first time, either oblivious or uncaring to how his answer would sting like it did in Rome.

“For my parents to dissolve this stupid contract with you.”

The party’s over and you take it upon yourself to voluntarily get out of your shared suite with Jungkook and crash in Seokjin’s room instead.

Seokjin can’t find it in himself to be annoyed at you, admitting to himself that he misses you especially with the knowledge that the two of you might have drifted a little since taking up your new jobs because of conflicting schedules.

The two of you no longer suffer together, already at a place in life where you don’t need to scramble in literally looking for a fight. He’s a mirror of you, if not more confrontational. He would’ve already asked you why you’re lingering around him more and less around Jungkook nowadays if only you didn’t look like a kicked puppy most of the time.

Seokjin shuts his mouth this time, letting you start the conversation this time around. It comes soon enough when the movie you were so engrossed in didn’t make sense in your mind anymore, a pressing question filling it instead.

“Do you regret being my handler?”

“Don’t ask me stupid questions,” Seokjin snaps instantly at the absurdity of you even asking him that, mumbling an apology later. “Of course not.”

He’s in disbelief with the way his eyebrows knit in the middle, a tension placed on his shoulders that even you can’t joke your way out of. He mutes the TV then and there, Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde no longer interesting him.

“Why did you follow me into this?” you ask in a small voice, wanting to sink to the floor because with the volume muted, Seokjin’s entire attention is on you.

“You liked the fighting scene. You loved coaching me,” you list down, going through all of your fond memories of practically growing up with him. “And now here we are. Bodyguards to a nepo baby.”

“We’re being paid higher here,” Seokjin shrugs carelessly, a giggle following his answer at the thought that he’s in the position to say that now. “I followed you here because we’re just as close as family,” he says it so easily that you have a hard time grasping it, an utter truth to it so he doesn’t stutter. “Where you go, I go.”

“Do you think I had a disgraceful exit?” you ask again, oblivious how your questions are snowballing more and more. “Saved Jungkook just one time out of instinct and I felt like that whole ordeal made more noise for me than my whole career did.”

Your voice trembles and you find it stupid why you’re suddenly getting emotional now, the weight of everything changing quickly in your life starting to hit. “Is it embarrassing? What I did and where I am now — is it embarrassing?”

“No. What you did and where you are now is just you,” he offers, sincerely. Even he doesn’t know why you jumped in to protect Jungkook either, but what he does know is that you would’ve done it for anyone else. “Do you wish you never left?”

“I don’t know either,” you sniffle, a cough leaving you pathetically and it makes you snuggle into Jin’s arm more. “I miss fighting now that I left it,” you admit. If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could imagine how much adrenaline you felt throughout your career.

“But my whole career of it, my whole life revolving around it,” you stress, admitting a truth that’s only been mere assumptions in your head for the longest time. “It’s been doing my head in even before Jungkook’s parents made me the offer.”

Seokjin listens — he always does. He does it in the way you want him to. You’ve confessed to him years ago that you think of him as a brother and that you wouldn’t fight if not for him, and he listened to you while wearing full gear during sparring because you didn’t want to be embarrassed. Months ago, you told him that you have a crush on Jungkook and you told him that through the bathroom door while he was showering so the water would drown your voice out. Some things are more stupid than the others but Seokjin does it and listens anyway — simply because you ask him to.

This time, Seokjin listens to you while he plays with your hair.

“I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about taking the offer, but I wasn’t fully sure either that I wanted to keep fighting. That’s why I accepted,” you murmur. “I said that I would leave fighting the moment it felt like a chore.”

“I remember you saying that,” he seconds, a brief chuckle leaving his lips. “How about Jungkook? Does he feel like a chore?”

“He doesn’t,” you admit whole-heartedly. “But he hates me, I think.”

“You still have that crush on him?”

“Still have the same, stupid, pathetic crush on Jungkook, unfortunately.”

You and Seokjin share a laugh, one that sounded like squeaking and choking at the same time when harmonized together. You’ve had a shit day and he’s already taken it upon himself to share the fatigue of it with you, unable to have it any other way.

Your happiness is cut short when there’s urgent knocks rapping on the door, too frantic that your heart would’ve leapt out of your ass if you didn’t hear the accompanying voice. “Jin! It’s me!”

Seokjin sighs in relief, clutching at his chest to hear that it’s only Jungkook. You sink to his sheets when he asks with his gaze if you want to be the one who answers the door, but he’s met with your head shaking no insistently.

“Did you see Y/N?” Jungkook asks as soon as Seokjin answers him, dripping wet after his bath and even in his bathrobe still. You told him you were just going to check out the snacks downstairs but an hour later after his bath (he managed to finish a documentary about cats), you still weren’t back.

“Why?” Seokjin feigns cluelessness, tilting his head at Jungkook’s nature of looking for you.

“She’s not in our suite. Is she there?” he sputters because he’s starting to think that maybe even Seokjin doesn’t know, meaning that nobody at all knows where you went.

Seokjin stands still for a minute, making Jungkook think that this is just a glitch in his brain and he’s still watching the documentary awhile ago where Seokjin’s the cat butler in this elite pet hotel.

“Uhm, no — wait, yeah,” Seokjin giggles breathlessly, snapping out of his trance. “She’s crashing here.”

“Oh,” Jungkook zones out. That explains it.

He’s unsure if you’ve ever gotten the snacks downstairs because if you did, you would’ve got some for him like you always did. He knows when a job is a job and he knows when people care for him — a bodyguard and a (fake) girlfriend like you wouldn’t have forgotten to get him snacks, right?

He tries to snap out of it too, trying not to think why you couldn’t have just told him that you didn’t want to sleep in the same suite; he didn’t even have anyone over. Jungkook swallows the disappointment, both for you and himself.

“Good. I thought she was kidnapped or something. Tell her to leave a note next time.“

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s soft.

He’s soft, maybe even despicable. Despite the hard-shelled and slightly bratty exterior, Jungkook’s more vulnerable than he paints himself out to be.

He’s soft in the sense that he would’ve taken a rose from a random woman’s hand in the street if not for you telling him that it’s 100% a scam, that he’d be hounded for money as soon as he accepts the flower. Jungkook was in shock at that when you explained the scheme to him, simply in the belief that love was just all around and people would randomly give out roses in the name of it.

Jungkook’s soft in the sense that when walking, he switches the two of you so he could be the one closest to the road instead of you. It’s warm and sweet for a second, until you remind him that you’re his bodyguard and you’re supposed to be there in the first place, and for him to never do that again.

He’s soft, from the way he scrolls through fundraisers to generously donate to and all the way down to silently and “accidentally” putting his snacks in your pockets when you aren’t looking.

Sometimes though, Jungkook’s definition of soft is weakness.

He’s weak to the point that Jungkook can’t even think straight because just a few words of flattery and he’s already weak in the knees. Jungkook’s weak as much as he’s emotional and irrational. He’s impulsive and ditzy and selfish, especially selfish with the way you’re prompted to intervene.

For the two minutes you’ve left his side, you come back to Jungkook kissing the daughter of his father’s rival, in a gala no less where literally everyone is watching. It’s stupid, beyond idiotic even for words that you drag Jungkook out into the garden where there’s no one watching, cutting his appearance in the function much earlier than intended.

Jungkook’s so weak. He’s laughable because it’s the one thing that’s unspoken yet beyond obvious — to never fraternize with rivals especially those of his parents’. It’s so, so stupid that you’re trembling with anger, just one stupid question away from speaking your mind.

“The fuck was that for?” he seethes, looking at you up and down with disgust in his face. Never did you use such great of a force on him, but for you to pry him by the arm in front of everyone embarrasses him to his core.

“Do you fucking know who you’re kissing?” you snap without missing a beat, just as irritated as he is but the difference is that he doesn’t have the right to be. “That’s Choi Haeri! Choi as in Choi Group Of Companies, your dad’s rival company!”

Jungkook scoffs, narrowing his eyes. He keeps dusting away the sleeve that you held onto as if you’ve contaminated it, rolling his eyes with disdain. “Okay? And I knew that, what the hell are you so pressed for?”

“I’m pressed because anybody could’ve seen you and you will be done for,” you grit, an accusing finger pointed at him. “You’re my boyfriend in public, Jungkook! Stop kissing other people!”

“You have a stick up your ass!” Jungkook spits, straying further and further away from reason. “No one in this room buys our act because they know I wouldn’t date you!”

Jungkook doesn’t immediately get a response back.

You only stand in front of him, unmoving and silent. The longer you look at him, the more his anger simmers and the more his regret seeps in. He doesn’t even know why he’s angry at you.

His throat tightens because this was the part where you say something equally as vulgar if not more demeaning, but it wasn’t happening. That part hasn’t even happened before. No, this was the part where you’re angry at him for good reason because you’re doing your job, and Jungkook responds to your reaction by telling you to go fuck yourself.

“I’m-…” he doesn’t even get to finish his sentence because you’re already interrupting him, pulling your phone out to dial the driver.

“We’re going home.”

“I don’t-…”

“That wasn’t a question,” you cut him off. “You’ve had enough to drink, you’re causing a scene, you’re endangering yourself. You’re leaving now.”

You pull Jungkook by the arm yet again with a force that’s not up for debate, trying to fight it with no avail until he lets himself be dragged along. It’s a long walk to where the pickup point is but you endure it, even when you’re still filled with so much anger and dismay.

He doesn’t make it better because as much as he lets himself be dragged along, he uses his other hand to fish out a coin from his pocket because he’s been carrying them lately, throwing it to the fountain that he sees on the way out. Jungkook proves yet again that he is weak, because he doesn’t even know why he does that.

You don’t even ask but Jungkook already explains with a sharp glint to his gaze, either to spite you or cowardly defend himself from your anger. But either way, the satisfaction after he explains his wish doesn’t ever come.

“For you to unclench.”

( ♡ )

It’s another trip outside the country when you find yourself in Seokjin’s room again.

“Confession time,” you hiccup, dehydrated after a full day of accompanying Jungkook with his shopping. “I don’t think it’s worth it liking Jungkook anymore.”

Even if you’ve said it out in the open, the concept itself sounds shaky. It’s either an impulsive lie or a hesitant truth, but either way, you know that you don’t like Jungkook as much as you did before.

“He told me to unclench.”

“You don’t seem like a butt clencher to me,” Seokjin furrows his brows, looking up from his phone now that you got his attention fully. “Stand up for me,” and you comply, turning around to indulge his playfulness. “Nope. Not a butt clencher at all.”

An attempt has been made to lighten up your mood and it’s working surprisingly, making you snort because somehow, Seokjin knows just how much you could take in the times you feel low.

You feel particularly clingy today, the proof of it being you trying to squeeze yourself in to the one-person chair that your friend’s occupying.

“This is fruitless,” you exasperatedly sigh, making Seokjin eagerly agree because the two of you are gonna break the chair until he realizes your minds are at two different places. “Liking rich, unattainable, disconnected-from-reality people is fruitless.”

“Hey, you’re rich. We’re also rich.”

“We got rich because we worked for it,” you correct him, acknowledging that although not Jeon family level of rich, you’ve come a long way. “Blood, sweat, tears, fractures, stitches-…“

“MRI scans. Don’t forget MRI scans.”

“Yes, thank you, MRI scans too. Jungkook’s old money and even though I’m slightly above average and closer to him, it means nothing!” you whine, finally giving up on fighting dominance for the chair and instead sitting on the carpet.

“Well is Jungkook’s social status the only thing stopping him from liking you back?” Seokjin inquires, the aforementioned surely one of the reasons but not the core of it.

“Oh no, far from it,” you snort, looking up at the pendant light above you and listing the numerous times you felt that you’re Jungkook’s actual girlfriend, and the other times you felt that you’re just a bodyguard that’s a thorn on his side. “I could also count the fact that Jungkook hates me to the core.”

“Does he feel like a job?” Seokjin hums, getting you to look at him. “Is it starting to feel like a chore being around him?”

Truth be told, you’ll rue the day that Jungkook feels like a chore to you. Whether it’s an impulsive lie or a hesitant truth, you believe Jungkook when he said that you just don’t know when to give up; both your greatest feature and flaw.

“A little.”

“Ah, that’s it then,” Seokjin somberly smiles, uttering the words he thinks you need. “You’re outgrowing him. You’ll forget that you even liked him soon enough.”

You don’t even know if you want to outgrow Jungkook.

“Spar?” you pipe in after a loaded silence to take the weight off of it, dying to have your mind somewhere else other than him.

“M’kay,” Seokjin agrees because he doesn’t have anything better to do either, standing up to fetch your gloves in his duffel.

“No, not in this room nor the gym,” you whine, a frown making its way to your lips. “In an actual ring, please? Don’t you have a buddy here that owns one?”

You look too soft, too fragile to even deny. It’s just a little thing to call around his friend in the area so Seokjin will do just that, as long as it means he can have the seemingly-permanent fatigue in your heart lighten.

“Okay, we can do that.”

Seokjin sees the way that you hang out with him more often, conveniently in the times that you’re upset with Jungkook. Each time you see him, the impromptu bonding ends with you begging him to train you.

The last time, it was you and him rewatching your old plays. Today, it’s sparring. Soon enough, you’ll ask more and more from Seokjin until it’s the actual fighting that you crave for.

It’s ironic that it was your fighting that landed you with Jungkook — and maybe, just maybe, it’s also the fighting that’ll take you away from him.

“There’s a pattern happening here though,” he calls you out for it, making you pause in your tracks. Seokjin sees right through you; on how you’re so frustrated with yourself as a product of being involved with Jungkook, that you’re slowly reverting back to the person you were before him. “Don’t think that I don’t see it.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s grandmother has a farm.

It’s massive, sprawling for hectares and even if the first few of the hundred are utilized for housing and hosting, it already tells you that Jungkook was ready for retirement the moment he was born.

You and Seokjin, along with the entirety of the staff, were invited by Mr. and Mrs. Jeon for a get-together. There’s no particular occasion but it already accounts catering and decoration into the details. There’s no grand gesture for it all, just the Jeon family and their employees in their bosses’ massive farm to celebrate togetherness for the sake of it.

None of you are in your uniforms, all free to dress. Everyone looks different to say the least, most of you seeing each other in your clothes of choice for the first time given your nature of work.

Jungkook’s eyes flit to you. He’s only seen you a couple of times in your pajamas, but this was different. A tank top that showed more skin compared to your uniforms (where practicality was the number one priority), and on top of it, a bright, bubbly cardigan that was the exact opposite of your black attires. It’s different. A lot more different than what he’s used to seeing. He doesn’t know how to explain it but you look more like yourself than he’s ever seen you, despite barely knowing you deeper in a superficial sense.

It’s been peaceful between you and Jungkook since his kiss with Haeri. You unclenched as per his wish, still fulfilling both of your jobs but without the strictness he was used to. You still cared, that much Jungkook knew and was grateful for, making a conscious effort to stop being irrational and pissing you off in the process.

It’s peaceful in the definition that there hasn’t been conflicts between the two of you, or there has been yet neither of you wanted to dwell on it in an effort to adjust for each other.

It’s peaceful but it was different; something changed between the two of you and Jungkook can’t discern what it is. He’s used his brain the most he ever did in his life yet he thinks understanding the shift in your dynamic doesn’t need logic — perhaps it’s heart.

Jungkook may be a little stupid, but he is stupidly committed when his mind’s set to it.

“Where’s the dirtbikes again, grandma? I wanna go to the creek,” he asks all of a sudden with a pitchy voice, praying inwardly that it’s not obvious that he planned a script for this to go about. It was a random thing to say, especially when you, his mom, and his grandmother were just talking about sheep in a secluded area.

For him to march all the way to where you are, asking about a dirtbike he most certainly knew where it was kept, makes his mother’s eyebrows raise.

“Just behind the stables, Kook. Also, you don’t know how to ride a bike,” his grandma answers, narrowing her eyes at her grandson who wants to ride all of a sudden.

It’s like he wanted you to hear (read: he wanted and needed you to), predicted by his mom who knows that not once has he ever shown interest in riding all the way to the creek by himself, much more on a dirtbike he can’t even operate.

“You don’t know how to ride a bike?” your eyes bulge, the question slipping past your lips in amusement. It’s too late for you to retract it, unintentionally making his mom and grandma laugh.

“Nope. Not at all. His parents tried teaching him, his grandpa and I took turns trying to teach him, his maids tried, everyone tried. Jungkook does not know how to ride a bike at all.”

“Okay, grandma. Thank you. I think everyone in the country has heard you now,” Jungkook mutters, knowing he signed himself up for a snide comment or two when he planned this, but he didn’t know he would feel this embarrassed.

His grandmother is all the more clueless but his mom quickly catches on, something at the back of her neck telling her that Jungkook needed you now.

“Y/N can take you there! Right, dearie? Seokjin told me you could drive anything,” Mrs. Jeon asks you sweetly, your eyes slightly widening at the sudden suggestion.

Jungkook’s mother looks at him with that look and he didn’t know how she caught on so quickly but he thanks her silently with the same gaze, trying to look indifferent for your impending answer.

“No problem, Mrs. Jeon,” you politely answer, wonder overtaking you because you don’t know what compelled you to agree. (Read: it’s because Jungkook indirectly asked you and if it’s him, you’d drop everything for him 7 out of 10 times.)

“You’re not on the clock,” Jungkook offers weakly, not having expected for you to agree in the first place. In fact, he didn’t even expect you to be civil with him at all since telling you that you have a stick up your ass — god, he really was the worst.

“I know,” you shrug, a gentle smile on your face. You lift your head for him to lift the way and he does, springing into action by walking beside you with his hands tucked in his pocket. “I just want to take you there.”

This is the first time you’ve ever been with Jungkook outside the context of work and he’s different. Not different in the physical sense because he still bears the visage and the aura of someone obscenely rich, definitely not that. He’s different in the sense that he’s more reserved; as if he’s walking with his feet for the first time and he has to take everything in around him in silence.

Additionally, this is the first time you don’t know which version of Jungkook you like the most now that you’ve seen him like this.

You like the prissy, talkative, slightly ditzy Jungkook of yesterday, one that apologized to you with words and talked your ear off with his own stories out of guilt. But now that you see him, you also like the quiet, subdued, and observant Jungkook of today, one that apologizes to you with his eyes and indirectly asks you to be alone with him.

You get on the dirtbike first, gathering your bearings before asking Jungkook to climb his seat.

He should be scared shitless right now because despite being an enthusiast for racing and vehicles in general, anything on two wheels feel like death traps to him. Jungkook should be scared and yet he isn’t, not when you’re in front of him; not when he’s so close to you that he can smell your hair and practically feel how soft your cardigan is.

“You can hold my waist,” you offer as you help him secure his helmet on, earning a playful scoff you haven’t heard in a while.

“Don’t want to.”

“I hope you fall off then.”

“What?” he asks with confusion in his tone but it later transitions into a shriek when you just up and rev, the playfulness of your response not really reaching his brain because he’s too busy holding onto your waist in a hurry.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna make me fall off on purpose,” he mutters as soon as he adjusts, taking his hands off your waist.

“I’m not doing shit,” you quip, threatening to increase the speed but it falls on deaf ears because once again, Jungkook got distracted by your change of attitude.

“Why are you being short with me?” he frowns in confusion, finally figuring out that hopefully it’s just the safety issue. “Will this make you less snappy with me?” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist again, gently bumping his helmet with yours intentionally.

You and Jungkook were complicated, but atleast when he wraps his arms around you and head bumps you with his helmet, things don’t feel as difficult.

“No comment?” Jungkook provokes harmlessly, making you nod hastily because you didn’t know that mere arms around your waist, Jungkook’s specifically, would make you want to light yourself up on a good note.

It stays like that for awhile. For the few minutes you have with Jungkook while the sun starts to set, you and Jungkook can act like you’ve always been this way; happy, warm, and committed.

“It’s right there. You could stop here,” Jungkook squeezes you by the sides, pointing to the creek he’s been talking about all this time.

“Hmm. Still pretty,” he comments to no one in particular besides the actual creek itself but it still makes you look up, taking off your helmet and turning off the engine. The creek doesn’t look anything special. Simply put, it’s just a creek. It’s strikingly mundane but for some reason, Jungkook speaks of it like it’s heaven on earth.

That’s the thing about Jungkook — through and through, you can’t read him and neither can he.

Jungkook digs into his pocket, throwing a coin to the shallow water that looks majestically clear. He closes his eyes and clasps his hands together, whispering to his entwined digits. “For you to stop following me around like a dog.”

The thing about Jungkook is that he’s a little empty; a little empty to not accurately predict when the perfect time is for a joke, a little empty to have never gauged the concept of being sensitive at all times for anyone’s sake that wasn’t his. A little empty that to make up for what he lacks, he’s extremely selfish.

“You don’t mean that,” you laugh humorlessly in disbelief, shaking your head because of course, as soon as you think Jungkook is completely fine the way he is, he goes ahead and make a wish that pushes you away.

“Do you really hate me that much? Be honest,” you add, the edge to your voice being something you find hard to control. “Because if you do hate me, then just say that.”

Jungkook blinks rapidly, proving to you that he’s slower than usual and is only now realizing that he’s said the wrong thing. Again.

“If you hate me, then don’t look for me when I’m not in our suite. If you hate me so much, stop walking behind me even if you’re with dozens of bodyguards in events,” you grit despite the lump in your throat. “Do you hate me so, so much that you can’t just say it to my face? Because I can say it to your face right now that I like you.”

And Jungkook freezes. He feels the dumbest he’s ever felt in his life.

“I like you but right now I fucking hate you,” you seethe, closing the gap between you and Jungkook to point at him. “I’m a dog? I follow you like a dog? Well guess what, I need to follow you like one because of this stupid-“

If it’s any proof that Jungkook can become even more empty, there’s barely any words from you that register in his head besides you liking him.

“You don’t hate me.”

Jungkook declares with certainty and it makes you quiver — because as much as you can’t read Jungkook, he can read you.

Your anger dissipates but there’s still tension in there, eyes locked with Jungkook in either a fit of stupidity or dumb courage.

“What do your lips taste like?”

Jungkook wonders out loud and there’s not one inch of a filter left in him, looking at you intensely to the point that he’s almost getting cross-eyed. You’re close, so close that Jungkook could inhale and you’d get attached to him. So he does it — he does what he’s an expert at and it’s to do without thinking; to act while empty.

Jungkook kisses you.

Jungkook kisses you as if he loves you, like it’s his first time hearing what it means and it’s his eager attempt to prove himself. He kisses you deeper with his hands holding you in place, as if you even thought about fleeing in his profession of love.

You and Jungkook were complicated, but atleast when he kisses you like he means it and tastes you so desperately that he wants to pass out, things don’t feel as difficult. Happy, warm, and committed.

But through and through, Jungkook is himself. It lasts like that for awhile until he comes to his senses, a little panicked that he really is kissing you, putting his hands on your shoulders to gently push you away.

You try to regain your breath and make sense of what happened while he walks away from you, sitting by the creek as he avoids your eyes.

You feel embarrassed, carrying way more shame than you ever felt is possible to bear. You don’t look at Jungkook either, preoccupying yourself by trying to focus on everything but him.

You get your phone out to call for Seokjin to accompany Jungkook instead when he chooses to go back because you don’t see yourself surviving the ride back with him, waiting for his reply so you can ride back alone with the excuse that you wanted to go to the bathroom.

The two of you neither look nor talk to each other but you could hear the sound of a light dip and splash. Jungkook’s empty, too selfish and too stupid, making his fifth wish in the creek with a mumble underneath his breath; oblivious to how you’re still within earshot.

“For us to never see each other again.”

( ♡ )

You know you have Seokjin — you just don’t know if you’ll still have him despite this.

He never liked riddles but the silence you give him already gave him his answers, your stay in his room tonight feeling different than every visit before.

“Seokjin?” you pipe from your corner of the room, sticking yourself to his chair you never even occupied. You occupy it now because maybe it’s the last time you’ll see it, a far too large bean bag that resembled a dog bed and didn’t fit the aesthetic of the room at all; maybe even miss it despite being the one item in his room that was misplaced and lacked attention.

“Hm?” he looks up from his phone he scrolled up and down for the past twenty minutes you’ve been here, far too tense to actually be absorbed in anything but what you’re about to stay.

“I get it,” you clear your throat, avoiding eye contact for the things that matter because it’s what you do best. “I’d get it if you want to stay.”

In your haste of listlessness for the past year, from your exit from the octagon to being a spontaneous bodyguard and then a contract girlfriend, you realize that Seokjin’s been with you through it all. That in your pursuit of what you think is best for you, you’ve been selfish not to think about what he wants to do separate from you.

“Less work, more pay. The environment’s not that toxic,” you chuckle, knowing that a few out-of-touch remarks here and there are lightyears away from the actual dirt you’d get thrown to your face in the fighting scene. “I just want to let you know, okay? I don’t want to leave you in the dark.”

Seokjin’s the most stable figure you’ve ever had in your life — you shouldn’t be selfish to drag him along if this is your new low. “I already have my letter of resignation. I’m handing it tomorrow.”

“I’m not trying anything with you by saying this,” you hurriedly explain, not wanting to make him think that this was a ploy to get his pity and do the opposite of what you’re saying. “Just wanted to say goodbye if this is the last time.”

Seokjin saw this coming.

The thing about you is that much like Jungkook, you’re oblivious to how there are people who would follow you to the ends of the earth to support you. You’re no old money baby, you don’t have millions of supporters ready to fight for you at your disposal.

But you have him. You’re so selfless, you don’t even know that Seokjin would be willing to orbit you until forever.

“Open the laptop.”

“What?”

Seokjin snorts humorlessly when you squint to his answer at you practically spilling your guts out, rolling off his bed to push the laptop at the desk beside you.

“Just open the laptop. You already know the password,” he waves you off, sitting at the carpet beside you. You’re not drunk yet you’ve sobered instantly, eyes already watering for reasons you don’t even know.

“Jin?”

“Open.”

The thing about Seokjin is that he knew when to protect you and knew when to let you take a hit, his compass never failing either of you since. He would literally carry you on his back when you fall but he’d throw you back into the ring when it comes to it, all to prove a point to you that nobody stands without crawling.

And this time, Seokjin knows to protect you.

You open his laptop and the first thing you see is a finished word file, one that was eerily similar to yours and even carried the same date.

“See? Already finished my letter too. Just need to print it,” he smiles like usual, skimming his resignation letter when he noticed your eyes darting around.

“But why?” you whisper. “Why are you leaving too?”

“There’s no point in staying,” Seokjin shrugs, the most honest truth he’s ever said. “Wherever there’s you, Y/N. I’ll follow.”

Through and through, you’ll have Seokjin no matter what. It’s an overwhelming feeling of warmth that fills you, patching up the massive gaps in your life you almost forget even existed.

It’s a burst of pride that fills Seokjin because he’s able to say that now, the realization that he had the opportunity to grow with his platonic soulmate and land somewhere and not just anywhere making him more emotional than necessary. “You’re family now.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so selfish,” you mumble over and over again when you embrace him, face buried to his chest. It’s a cry you’ve suppressed for so long that even you can’t believe the sounds that come out of you endlessly, weakly fisting his shirt to ground yourself.

You feel small; so, so incredibly small and pathetic. You’re perhaps the stupidest person you know because you’ve ran for so long only to stop disgracefully, suddenly being displaced. What you do with all your hurt is compress it into a tight box, stacking and stacking until you realize your pain’s never been compressed in the first place — you’ve just been building a puzzle out of it for the sake of calling yourself resilient.

“You’re not selfish,” Seokjin mutters, repeating it again and again until you hear him through your cries. “You’re the most selfless person I know. Besides myself of course,” he jokes, but it’s you who would know that he isn’t lying at all.

“Besides, I also want to leave too. I miss coaching. I miss the fighting,” he assures you, trying to get it through your head that there’s purpose to his intent. “The most action I get is pushing people out of the way when there’s crowds.”

“Jungkook and I kissed,” you admit as you’re still hugging him, not wanting to break away yet because that would mean you have to make eye contact. “When we were at the creek, he asked me what my lips tasted like so I kissed him-“

“TMI.”

Seokjin groans but still listens anyway.

“Then he just pushed me away. I-I don’t know why, when you drove him back and he saw me, he told me to pretend it never happened.”

“We went to the farm a week ago,” Seokjin reminds you the passage of time, shocking you for a moment because it meant that you’ve been moping for a week straight.

“Mhmm.”

“Have the two of you been talking?”

“No,” you chuckle genuinely this time, either out of doom or gratefulness, you can’t tell. “Not at all.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook feels every bit of the one-dimensional and empty person that he’s argued out to be. He’s royally fucked up so to speak, the guilt of pushing you away after being the one to kiss in you in the first place keeping him up at night.

It consumes him excruciatingly slow, as if fate wanted it that way because it’s preparing him for a pain that’s heavier than the one he has now.

Worst part is that he hasn’t apologized to you yet.

His urge to apologize is bigger than life itself but the problem was that he can’t think of one that you deserve, only a mindless string of words coming into mind because he’s said them to you numerous times before. He wants to show you just how sorry he is but he can’t either, too consumed by the possibility that nothing would ever suffice.

You haven’t been walking beside him lately and he can’t even blame you. For every appearance he does nowadays, you’ve asked another bodyguard to tag along to be his main one, with you remaining only in the sidelines to keep appearances yet maintain your distance away from him.

Jungkook feels uneasy.

He’s no stranger to your silence and distance yet this bout in time speaks for itself, something about your outright refusal to be even an arm’s reach away from him making him think that it’s a prelude to something far more painful.

He loathes himself for driving you away; for wanting you and always backing out at the last minute because you don’t deserve him — you deserve much better.

Jungkook cares, of course he fucking cares. He takes everything to heart and in that same vein, he wouldn’t know who nor what he is without his family name. With or without his affluence, he’s just painfully him. Jeon Jungkook who does not know who or what to be in life.

He’s stupid, he’s a hundred percent sure of that. Even if his latin honor in a degree he doesn’t even care about nor remember says otherwise, Jungkook thinks he still is. He’s listless and so devoid of what he cares for in life, he can’t even discern shit not unless it’s handed to him.

Until you.

Jungkook doesn’t think he’s built for love. He does not think that he’s built to care for anyone outside of himself and his family and the very few in his closest circle. He has a good life, so much of a good life that the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks that he’s not deserving of the love he’s readily handed with.

Love is for parents to their children and care is for children to their friends. Love and care are exclusive to only the people you know and would trade your lives for because you’re bound by the same and same circumstances you were predetermined for.

Love and care shouldn’t be easily handed out; it shouldn’t be as easy as you taking a hit in behalf of Jungkook because you wanted to protect him despite not knowing him at all.

If only things were different, Jungkook would’ve been decked on live television for a reason that even he understands. But things weren’t different — fate put you in the way, literally in the way.

Jungkook used to believe that love is for the weak. Love is for the weak because it’s based on a faulty premise of caring for others despite the presence and threats of fallacies.

In the middle of the mall he begged you to go with him without another bodyguard present, there lies a huge water fountain. He only stands from a distance yet he knows the familiar stance, seeing you throw a coin with the most dejected look in your face.

“What’s that for?” Jungkook asks, eyes desperately looking for yours.

“For all your wishes to come true.”

When you say it like that — when you put him above yourself again to wish for all his desires to come true, he realizes that he is what makes love weak.

Jungkook doesn’t even know if he’s deserving of your love.

( ♡ )

It wasn’t easy tendering Mr. and Mrs. Jeon your letter of resignation.

Mr. Jeon was in utter shock, not only losing an exemplary employee but also a dear friend he could consider as a daughter figure. You would indulge him in his rants about flowers and random facts, actually conversing with him instead of giving half-hearted hums and answers.

Mrs. Jeon was in denial, breathlessly chuckling as she rereads your letter again a few more times. She bestowed her trust and gratefulness for you the moment she saw you, and seeing you hand this in now, she can’t help but think it’s her fault for everything.

Truth be told, you didn’t even expect for the two of them to feel this way towards your resignation. You thought the default expression was for employers to be disappointed and acknowledge your letter, not so much hesitating in kicking you out after the two-week notice ends. But this was different — Mr. and Mrs. Jeon do care.

After a few tears and conversations, you’ve pleaded to them to not let Jungkook know about your resignation nor Seokjin’s. It wasn’t too much to ask for (you think) yet Mr. and Mrs. Jeon agree despite their uneasy smiles, now under the assumption that your resignation has everything to do with their son who caused you trouble and more.

Jungkook feels the same pain of unease, feeling like there’s been a shift of the way people move around him lately. He doesn’t see much of you nor Seokjin anywhere in the residence or even at his parents’.

For some reason, you’ve been coming home dead late into the night, not coming home at one instance until 2 in the morning. He knows because he keeps track, unconsciously having trained himself to know your footsteps from the time you’ve been with him.

It’s foreboding guilt that bites him first and loathing that chews him later on. He feels restless sitting by his door waiting for you to come home and at times when it’s just too late in the evening, Jungkook situates himself on the couch to watch the door open the second the lock turns.

“Where the hell have you been?”

The abrupt voice that questions you gives you the fright of your life, making you think it was about to trigger another nosebleed that’s just barely dried up. You freeze by the door, cussing and clutching at your heart and only realizing that it’s Jungkook-

Why would Jungkook wait for you to come home?

He’s cozy in his sweats but his physique is the furthest thing from it, the tension on his posture and the stress on his face clearly visible. It’s four in the morning, no reason for him at all to be awake.

There should be no reason for him to worry for you, wait for you to come home and yet here he is, looking distressed and relieved at the same time at your presence.

When Jungkook asks this time, it’s your turn not to answer. You won’t tell him you’ve just come from an underground fight and won, making it your practice before you make your comeback on the octagon once again.

The longer you freeze, the longer Jungkook tenses. His eyebrows are furrowed, hands on his waist. “Excuse me, I’m asking here. It’s morning! Why did you only come home now?”

“Why are you concerned?” you quip harsher than intended, the dim lighting making you seem angrier than you actually are.

“Uhm, why exactly am I concerned?! Because I thought you were mugged or kidnapped or like I don’t know, in an accident or something?!”

“I can protect myself,” your answer falls on deaf ears, overpowered by Jungkook trying (this is his attempt) not to freak out completely.

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going? Is it so hard to send a text?”

“Fuck, why are you even awake?” you mumble in annoyance under your breath, this sudden concern for you being cloying, yet to your surprise, he hears you loud and clear.

“Because I couldn’t sleep from worrying over you, that’s why!” his eyes widen because it was the most obvious answer — everyone else would know if they were in his position.

“Jungkook,” you grit, exhaling shakily. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t give me a headache.”

He doesn’t seem deterred by you or your irritation towards him at all, cementing himself deeper to the ground.

“Where. Were. You.”

“None of your business,” you enunciate. “Also, sending you a text? Really? Why would I, your bodyguard, update you of my whereabouts? Do you know how goofy that sounds?”

“You’re not answering me,” he follows you, pausing when you look back at him in the threshold of your room. “Can you please just tell me what was it that you did for you to come home this late?”

You narrow your eyes at him.

Jungkook knows that look, the same one he would give you when you were trying to communicate him outside his room.

“Don’t shut that-…“

…door.

( ♡ )

Jungkook can’t handle it.

He can’t placate himself anymore, no longer able to delude himself that his gut is wrong and there really must be something much more painful for him, for both of you, in store.

He acts upon every impulse and applies every unnecessary skill of blending himself into the crowd, tailing Seokjin first because he knew you must be taking extra steps for him to get off your back.

And he’s right — Jungkook’s right about his feared, drawn-out assumption that you were fighting again. He thought he was just seeing things last night, that the bruise near your eyebrow was just a shadow cast to your face from coming home late.

He wants so badly to be wrong this time. He hates that the only time he’s right, it would be at guessing that you were putting yourself in harm’s way intentionally.

Everything makes him want to churn, the moment he sees Seokjin and then your figure shortly join him to the entrance of an underground club so sketchy and rancid from the outside, it gives him vertigo. You can’t be doing this, there’s no way you’re doing this again so willingly.

He follows the both of you, already gaining weird glances when he was barely into the entrance. He’s made sure to look as unnoticeable as possible, wearing the sweats that everybody wears with even a mask on. Something about him was so distinct that it makes everyone think that oh, that guy looks eerily like Jeon Jungkook. He throws everyone into a loop because wait, there is simply no reason at all for Jeon Jungkook to be in an underground club, at a fight night no less.

Jungkook tries to stomach it; weaving through the crowd and trying to ignore the low ceiling, the lookouts at every exit, and the mentions of your name and the bets attached to it.

He holds his breath until then, until he forces himself into the backrooms while everybody’s too preoccupied and he’s right again — so right with his assumption yet beyond wrong with everything else, chest tightening when he sees you donning the familiar gear.

“What the actual fuck?”

Jungkook’s breathless, shrill voice immediately makes you freeze. Seokjin reacts quickly and evidently, head snapping to meet his figure. “Jungkook-…“

Neither of you pay attention to Seokjin, locked in a delirious gaze with each other that you still can’t believe he’s here of all places. Of all times.

“You’re fighting again?” he whispers, knowing that it’s a question that answers itself. You don’t answer, still frozen in your stance. The noise outside dulls in your ears yet it amplifies in Jungkook’s, a yelp getting caught in his throat. “Why are you fighting again?!”

“Please tell me this is not about the pay. My parents pay you even higher than when you were fighting in the league. I made sure of it,” he gritted, knowing that he pushed for them to pay you even higher.

He can’t rack his head for any reason for you to be here. You were fine — you were fine with him. You don’t have to fight for money and he made sure of it above all things — why would you fight?

You can’t rack any reason in your head for Jungkook to be here. He made it clear to you that he didn’t care for you and yet he’s here, in a place where he clearly doesn’t belong — why should he be concerned?

“Why the fuck did you follow me?” you grit, your tone reading more concerned than angry. “Go home, Jungkook. Right now.”

Seokjin leaves the two of you alone because he’s called by the organizer, taking it as your cue to try and get Jungkook out of here before the fight starts.

“They’re gonna recognize you here. Now’s not the time.”

“No, now is the time! You’re my bodyguard, why are you out here getting beaten up?” he stands his ground, bending and bracing his knees to make it harder for you to pull him away.

“I’m not getting beaten up out there, trust me,” you huff cockily, momentarily distracted by his insinuation to realize that Jungkook has more pressing matters in mind.

“That’s not the point,” he whines, turning the tables on you and holding you by the wrists at the brief second you bragged to him. “I know — you already know you’re good, you don’t have to prove anything. You have a new job. Your job is me. You have me. Why are you still going back to this?”

Jungkook doesn’t get why you want to revert to the old version of you so badly. He doesn’t get why you want to run into the face of hurt and to become the poster child of fighting again despite leaving that scene for him.

“Jungkook,” you swallow at the reminder that protecting him is no longer your job. “Now is not the time.”

He remains stubborn, letting go of your wrists yet he’s still not budging to leave.

“If you want to know why, please go home right now. I’ll explain it to you when I get there.”

“No,” Jungkook swallows thickly, feeling his heart twist because he feels it. He feels the impending doom — he doesn’t know what exactly is it, but he knows it exists. “Whatever it is that you have to say to me, you can say it now.”

“I go out there in two minutes!”

Seokjin hovers by the door, curiously looking and wanting to intervene so badly.

“Well then say it to me now!” Jungkook just about bursts, prompting you to do the same.

“The dating contract’s already been dissolved since last week. We don’t have to pretend we’re dating anymore so you can stop caring about me,” you rush, taking a deep breath before you continue. “I already terminated my contract too. I’m not your bodyguard. I’m training someone else to take over my position. I’ll be out of your hair by the end of the week, and the new hire will be in by Monday.”

Jungkook hasn’t fought anyone physically yet his ears ring.

His ears ring and his stomach hurts, his chest feeling like it’s collapsing.

“That’s everything. Now leave, Jungkook. Go home now.”

Jungkook’s frozen even when Seokjin pulls you out to enter the ring. He’s not numb because he can hear the roar of cheers and he can drag himself feet first to the main area to watch you hurt and get hurt.

You’re still fluid in the ring, your signature fighting style highlighting the sloppiness and volatility of your opponent.

Your fighting has always been this way and yet it looks different to Jungkook compared to the first time he’s seen you in the flesh. He isn’t queasy when it comes to watching fights, never — yet now, he feels sick.

Your moves are still quick, calculated, and powerful yet none of it registers to Jungkook because you’re not alone on the ring. He can’t see how good you are — he can only see how you could be hurt.

And you do get hurt. You’re graceful regardless if you deliver blow after blow or receive a few hits every now and then, but what Jungkook could only see is you being hurt. Of how you’re experiencing pain even if what you receive is barely half of the pain you deliver.

Jungkook watches you in a different perspective. Just about a year ago when he first saw you in action, he was cheering for you. Yelling with the crowd when you were overpowering and chanting when you were on the verge of finishing your opponent.

But now, despite you overpowering and finishing your opponent, he can’t find it in him to cheer. All he could see is you hurting and it brings tears to his eyes, unable to control his emotions even more because he feels like hurling.

You win. You win like always and as soon as your hand is raised and the bell is rung, it’s not Seokjin who gets to you first — it’s Jungkook.

You’re elated and running on pure adrenaline but you feel like crashing as soon as you feel Jungkook’s trembling hands on your face assessing you. You’re thankful that you’re able to grasp some sense, prioritizing in dashing to the backroom quickly so everyone collectively skips over the fact that Jeon Jungkook is here and just happens to be fussing over you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop even in a different setting, making you sit immediately while he examines the cut on your brow and the bust on your lip, either cussing or praying underneath his breath.

“I told you to go home.”

You try to breath stably, your high on adrenaline being a big jump to seeing Jungkook, the last person you expect to be worrying about you, examine you from head to toe.

“Are your ribs okay?” he presses on them, putting the back of his hand on your forehead. “Are you dizzy?”

He continues to ignore you. If only you didn’t consider yourself unworthy of his love and concern, you would realize that Jungkook isn’t ignoring you — he’s just running on autopilot. He’s not a medical professional and neither is Seokjin (the latter atleast knows how to properly do first aid). He doesn’t know how to care for you but he’s trying to, looking at you every which way.

“Jungkook.”

“How about your ankle? Could you still flex it?” he sighs, holding the warming skin on it. “That’s gonna bruise so badly.”

“Jungkook, stop.”

Your voice trembles but he just won’t listen. He just won’t quit fussing over you.

“Jungkook I said-…”

“How am I supposed to stop?” Jungkook bursts at the seams, your voice overlapping repeatedly in his brain belatedly. “How am I supposed to stop when you drop all of this on me at the same time?! How am I supposed to stop worrying when all I can see is that you’re hurt?”

“You should look at the other guy. I’m not-…”

He ignores you because there you are again. There you are with your pride talking and it irks Jungkook because it’s the only thing you’ve picked up from everything he’s spilled. He’s worried insane over you and the only thing you respond to was what you assume is a dig at the hits you’ve received.

“You haven’t been talking to me. You’ve been sneaking out. You’re back to fighting and all of a sudden you’re fighting again?”

“All on you?” your ears burn. “Has it ever hit you that I’m doing all this for my sake and not for yours?”

There goes Jungkook again with his self-centeredness, his insinuation that you’re doing this for him sounding deeply insulting to you.

“That’s on me? I haven’t been talking to you because after we kissed, you literally wished that we should never see each other again!” you repeat, in disbelief that Jungkook has the gall to bring up his sake.

“You heard that?” he pauses, frustration simmering instantaneously. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how do you mean it?”

“I don’t-“ he swallows. “I meant it at the time, okay? I didn’t know why I kissed you but I don’t regret it.”

“Then why didn’t you talk to me after that?” you exasperate, head tilting back.

“I don’t know, that’s the thing.”

Jungkook’s frustrating.

Too frustrating that now you can’t filter anything that comes out of your mouth with the adrenaline still in your system, your eyes rolling so hard that Jungkook thought you were gonna black out for a second.

“That’s always the thing with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his voice gentle, not wanting to know what you mean by it if it’s to hurt him.

Thinking about it, Jungkook thinks that he may not deserve your love, but he does deserve your hurt.

“That you’re selfish,” you spit. “You’re the most selfish person I know, Jungkook. The worst.”

“I’m the worst person I know too.”

He agrees with you. After all, it’s not the first time things like these have been said to him. But now that it’s coming from you, Jungkook could confirm to himself that it’s the truth.

“Please let me be the worst one more time,” Jungkook breathlessly pleads, the tightness in his chest only wounding. “Please stop fighting.”

“I’m not begging you to be my bodyguard again. I’m not begging you to be my fake girlfriend. I’m not begging for my sake this time,” the tears fall freely from his eyes, trying not to shut his eyes because when he does, he’ll see you wincing again. “Stop fighting.”

You’re caught off-guard, the beating in your chest confused because at this point, Jungkook should be contradicting you to hell and back that he’s not the worst person you know.

“It’ll all catch up to you someday,” he warns gently. “You’re hurting now. It’ll hurt even more when you go back to the league,”

That’s it.

“Oh.”

The actual moment of realization that hits you doesn’t relieve you, instead, it makes you dizzy. You’re chuckling but it’s devoid of actual humor. Nothing’s funny about it.

“You’re begging me to stop fighting,” you smile, the same adrenaline that flows through your chest starting to tighten around your heart. “I thought you were begging me to come back to you because you love me.”

“And you don’t, right?” you ask with tears building on your eyes, tilting your head to gauge Jungkook. “You don’t love me, do you?”

Jungkook’s breathless. That’s not true. That’s the shittiest assumption he’s ever heard about himself. Before he can even explain himself, you’ve already made up your mind.

“You don’t want me,” you mumble. “You only want me around.”

You’re trying to get up and Jungkook’s trying to sit you back down, even going so far as to kneel in front of you to weigh you down but you tug him back up harshly, pointing him right at the door.

“Get out, Jungkook.”

“No,” he shakes his head no earnestly even if you’re stepping towards him with anger you can’t even explain.

“I want to become just like you,” you chuckle, pacing around with an accusing finger pointed to him. “I want to be the worst, most selfish person I know. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

“So leave, Jungkook,” you say as sternly as you could, the crack in your voice giving away that perhaps it’s not only anger that you feel. You fish for a coin in your duffel bag with trembling hands, throwing it patronizingly to the floor, spinning and turning to land right at his feet.

“I wish you’d leave me.”

Jungkook doesn’t.

He shows up on your next fight.

He shows up for the third, the fourth, the fifth fight, and the fights after that.

Jungkook could be committed just as he is stupid, that much he knows. He let you become the worst, most selfish person you know (read: him) that night and left just as you wished — but only for that night does he grant it.

There was no other word to describe Jungkook besides desperate. It dripped off him the second you woke up the next day and you almost tripped the moment you got out of your room because Jungkook’s sleeping right outside it, true to his word that he would leave you alone for the night; and factually enough, it’s morning.

He’s so desperate to the point that it’s pitiful, equivalent to a dog sleeping at your feet and you having to work around in removing your shoe underneath the snout.

You don’t hate Jungkook, no, maybe not anymore. It’s much more complex than that. It has everything to do with how perhaps the two of you are emotionally constipated, one more than the other, and how the two of you think in your own twisted ways that you’re undeserving of love.

You don’t hate Jungkook, he’s tolerable. You attempt to tolerate him even if he literally pushes Seokjin out of the way to assess your injuries, his knowledge growing more and more for each fight that you get yourself into. He fusses over you more than you ever did for him.

You try to tolerate him and swallow the secondhand embarrassment you get from Jungkook sticking out like a sore thumb in the places you belonged to but he didn’t. Jungkook knows how just out-of-place he looks but he can’t bring it in himself to focus on the timidness he feels, only able to focus on your sake and on your hurt only.

He fits himself in places he doesn’t belong to in the hopes that he’d find you there; in the hopes you’d take him under your wing again and put a hand on his waist just like past times, a quiet understanding between the two of you that you’ve got him.

Just like now, Jungkook forces himself into the small couch of the backroom waiting for yet another fight, squeezing himself to lie down on your lap, gauging your reaction.

You smile.

Ah, you don’t look like you hate him.

“I did something by myself today,” he clears his throat, making you look up from your phone and back down on your lap because you almost forgot he’s invaded your space. Again. “I enrolled myself in a course.”

“Don’t you already have your degree?” you ask perplexed, distinctly recalling his diploma displayed in his parents’ living room.

“Yeah, in business. It’s a useless degree,” Jungkook smiles sheepishly, admitting it outloud. “After all, I’m a nepo baby, right?”

You tense at the random addition, feeling a little sorry because you know you’ve left quite the sting on Jungkook since your fight months ago. “Jungkook, I didn’t-…”

“It’s okay. I’m starting to become more self-aware these days,” he grins without malice, eyes crinkling and dimples appearing that you momentarily stop your explanation to just observe.

When you look at him like that, Jungkook knows when people care (and love) for him just because they do.

“Speaking of being self-aware, against popular misconception, I know how to love,” he makes a show of clearing his throat, delivering his line with utmost sincerity that it turns him meek. “I just don’t know when to stop.”

When Jungkook professes to you like this, he sounds the most attainable. He sounds soft; the most vulnerable of the vulnerable.

“Are you stopping?” you ask just as gently.

“You tell me.” (Read: no. Jungkook doesn’t ever want to stop loving you.)

It’s silence, always dwindles to it between the two of you but it isn’t the type that weighs the both of you down. Simply put it was just peace, a quiet understanding that love isn’t weak as either of you painted it out to be.

“Anyway, I enrolled myself because I want to study again. It’s something I wanna be an expert on,” Jungkook’s heart thrums in his ears, looking up at you who looks just as nervous and excited as he is. “I’m studying to become a paramedic.”

You smile warmly, head tilting in wonder.

“Why?”

“So I can help you. You protected me before, and it’s my turn to aid you now,” he chews on his bottom lip. “I can save you myself if worse comes to worst.”

Jungkook gets a pinch to his thigh for even thinking such a thing and it makes him giggle a little, a welcome break to the somber and serious thoughts he has regarding you career.

“I know you want to continue fighting. I don’t know when you’ll stop and if I could convince you to stop,” he pauses, looking down on your hands that are hovering just above his. “But for as long as you’ll fight, I’ll try to heal you.”

Against your belief, perhaps love is for the weak. Because as much as it’s cruel and it chooses, love is based on a faulty premise of caring for others despite the presence and threats of fallacies — and if loving Jungkook means to be weak, then so be it.

“Jungkook.”

“You don’t have to cry,” Jungkook weakly reprimands you and yet he cries himself, reaching up to wipe at your eyes. “You took care of me. You’ve been taking care of everyone and everything but yourself your whole life.”

Against Jungkook’s belief, perhaps love isn’t for the weak. Because as much it’s based on a faulty premise of caring for others despite the presence and threats of fallacies, love found its way to him in the form of you — and if loving you means subjecting himself to such cruelness, Jungkook would strive not to be weak.

“I can take care of you,” Jungkook whispers, more than willing to spend the rest of his wishes in giving everything you deserve. “Let me take care of you.”

You don’t have to amount to something to be considered deserving of love — the moment you love, you amount to everything.

“I wish you’ll let me love you the way you love me.”

#and how r we feeling :O lmk best friends thank u <3 #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine #jeongguk imagine #jeongguk oneshot

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shepscapades · 6 months

Note

Hiii I LOVEEEEE your DBC AU so much!!!!! You've given me a concerning level of brainrot =w= I just have question about the new part that just came out: why is Etho going crazy? Is it bc of the trauma? Or is it smth else?

HI thank you!!! <3 It’s been mentioned here and there (I think I talked about it in the Part 1 post), but it’s probably not a bad idea to recap every now and then for any new folks. (I then proceeded to write everything out more detail than I’ve ever talked about it before!) so hopefully this makes things a little more clear! Gbjdghkvjm

Etho, who was still trying to get used to a full range of emotions on top of his first life series, had a REALLY hard time with how Last Life ended— the adrenaline and fear of Death Games’ Survival of the Fittest and being pit against all of his friends is one thing, but something about his relationship with bdubs was so much more important to him, and he essentially blames himself for bdubs’ permanent death in the series. He vividly remembers (has recorded + logged the memories of) himself telling bdubs he wouldn’t give him a life unless he killed one of the other reds— remembers bdubs saying he’ll kill to earn the life, remembers him looking so earnest and determined, vividly remembers the moment the message rang out that Bdubs had gotten his kill, and the message that Grian had killed Bdubs shortly after.

Etho never quite forgave himself for being the self-perceived reason bdubs dies (after all, he should have just given bdubs the life if he really cared and wanted him to survive), and he takes this grief back with him as they return to Hermitcraft Season 8. As someone who’s very new to feelings of guilt and failure, you can imagine how hard he took this— reviewing the memories again and again, trying to understand why he made those decisions, realizing how selfish he is, comparing his “failure to protect bdubs” to when he was first assigned to Bdubs, when he sacrificed himself to keep Bdubs safe.

As the moon situation escalated and hermitcraft got increasingly busy, Etho couldn’t find it in himself to confront bdubs (maybe not seeing himself fit to deserve bdubs’ forgiveness, or fearing Bdubs’ disappointment or anger with him) and his fears and regrets kind of slowly ate away at him until it shut him down. It’s actually a recurring theme for Etho that, because of the damage he sustained from the creeper blast that caused his deviancy, his systems are actually kind of fragile when it comes to pushing them to their extremes. When he feels an extraordinary amount of overwhelming emotion, his thirium pump starts to work in overdrive, and thirium starts leaking from all of the places his shell is cracked— his face, his shoulder, and his arm.

So the idea is that, Etho returns to Season 8 trying to… more or less forget about what happened— except he can’t, he’s obsessed with what happened, and his emotions start to overwhelm him until thirium starts to leak and whatnot. But I think deviants are fairly used to “dismissing” warnings, as sometimes their thirium pump will skip, their temperature will rise, or other system updates may happen when they feel certain emotions, and Etho is so distracted (or. Trying to be distracted) that he doesn’t realize he’s dismissing Thirium Loss notifications until it’s too late. He begins to shut down with Last Life on his mind, and the system errors that follow are all garbled out.

This technically happens before the moon destroys the server, which means etho is offline, or broken, or what have you, when the server gets destroyed, and this is actually what truly glitches him out. When Xisuma and Doc try to reboot him at the beginning of season 9, Etho’s system is caught on a glitch: Etho had shut down thinking about last life, so his programming is trying to eliminate the threat who killed bdubs as an attempt to fix what happened (bdubs dying). Etho’s trying to eliminate grian (who isn’t a threat anymore, because this isn’t last life, last life was ages ago) but he’s not thinking straight and can’t process anything beyond the Desperation+Fear+Guilt. Since Grian’s not in the room, he goes for the next best thing: the person who might be able to tell him where Grian is: the server admin. Doc just gets in the way of Etho trying to get to Xisuma, so Etho “decommissions” Doc in an attempt to remove him from the equation.

So um. Yeah! That should be everything more or less explained… hopefully it also clears up some details you may or may not notice in the comics! Etho starts leaking thirium throughout the destruction comics, Etho goes for Xisuma first… Etho having memory flashbacks of Last Life. If anything is particularly confusing feel free to ask more questions! But it’s kinda nice to be able to write out how I’ve logic’d out all of this happening in my head hehe (i plan on posting the DBHC Etho playlist soon with a brief explanation of each song in Etho’s timeline, so hopefully that will help too!) :]

#ask #dbhc #dbhc ask #coracyshard #dbhc etho #dbhc xisuma #dbhc doc #destruction #dbhc theories

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babydollmarauders · 6 months

Text

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 11)

au masterlist

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, nicohischier, and 251,869 others

y/ndevils00 well… that was painful

welcome back to my post-game recap! if you don’t know who i am because you’ve been living under a rock, or you’ve been in jail (don’t do crimes unless you can get away with them), i’m y/n! or as my boyfriend calls me, ‘dove’! i work as the social media manager for one of the sluttiest teams (and maybe the worst this season…) in the National Hockey League: the New Jersey Devils!

let get into it! your favorite (or maybe least favorite. i wouldn’t blame you!) men from hell lost 4-6 against the patriotic old guys tonight…. i can’t say i wasn’t surprised

we had an absolutely scoreless (and sinless) first period on our end, transitioning into intermission down by 3!

but second period is when we really started heating up! we got FOUR lovely goals by THREE lovely people!!

starting with uncle Toffee!! who scored our first AND our fourth goal!! he’s been so queen girlboss slay recently! who knew he would be this good?! not me! i doubted him severely! (i cannot apologize for my previous thoughts about you uncle, i can only ask you to forgive me anyways because you took my DILH and i’m still recovering)

Timo the absolute Tank Engine got us our second goal of the night with his first goal of the season! and no penalties!! i feel like a proud mother to a usually extremely horribly behaved little boy 🥹

and of course, my favorite whore, my very best swiss, my least favorite kind of cheese; captain slut got our third goal of the night!! THAT’S MY HOE!! POP OFF! (he also got a penalty tonight but i’ve opted not to show that because he paid me $20)

and i could never forget to mention that my beautiful angel of a bad bitch, Rowdy, got an assist on THREE out of four of our goals tonight!! he’s only 3 points away from 20 points already!! THAT’S MY (baby)GIRL!

and third period is when we immediately went as cool as the ice they skate on… giving up three goals (including an empty netter to the oldest looking man alive)… we got no goals of our own and my sweet baby angel face bestie number 1 got a penalty for being too perfect 😔

all-in-all, let’s wish the boys luck against the sabres on friday because apparently they need it! i think friday’s enemy gave them some pretty good advice though and they should put it to use!

p.s. ikea baby and merc-dog are my exact reactions to how badly we played in the third

p.p.s. ovi… when i catch you ovi 🥊😑

tagged john.marino97, tofff73, tmeier96, nicohischier, jackhughes, lhughes_06, jesperbratt, and dawson1417

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jackhughes dove, baby, what is that abomination of a 5th photo?

y/ndevils00 my camera wouldn’t focus :(

jackhughes so why post it?

y/ndevils00 you don’t appreciate my talents

jackhughes i can assure you, i appreciate your talents plenty. photo taking is just usually not one of them

lhughes_06 gross

user29 did she just threaten OVECHKIN?! 😭

user17 i fear we may lose these updates after this threat 😪

jesperbratt what was i 😦 at?

y/ndevils00 i honestly couldn’t tell you— i was too busy wondering the best way to fit you in my pocket

john.marino97 i got a picture?!

y/ndevils00 you got an assist and no penalties!

john.marino97 but dawson got a penalty and no assists and still got a picture?

y/ndevils00 you’re not dawson, the standards for you are different

john.marino97 i’ve known you for 4 years and this is how i get treated? DAWSON HAS ONLY KNOWN YOU FOR 2!

y/ndevils00 you tattle on me, you deserve your treatment

dawson1417 she’s got you there, bud

tofff73 you doubted me?!

y/ndevils00 in my defense, i didn’t know you were chill like that

tofff73 jack has informed me that you cried at the trade, i forgive your doubts

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes YOU’RE TELLING HIM MY SECRETS?!

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 i wasn’t aware that you usually blast your “secrets” on your instagram story

user81 the random luke picture… y/n loves her smush 🥹

tmeier96 did you just call me a tank engine?

tmeier96 also, i’m OLDER than you!

y/ndevils00 that was a compliment! i’m saying you’re built!

tmeier96 you’re a funny little thing

y/ndevils00 also yes you are older— i said i FELT like a proud mother, not that i AM one. i already have one reckless child at home, i don’t want another

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 she’s a cat.

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes SHE IS OUR BABY

trevorzegras you love testing how far you can push before you get a warning for your behavior, don’t you?

y/ndevils00 i learned from you 🫶

trevorzegras you’re a cockroach

y/ndevils00 all i’m hearing is that i’m resilient and can live through anything

trevorzegras i hate you

y/ndevils00 you WISH you hated me— if you really did then you wouldn’t facetime me twice a week

nicohischier there are so many things i take issue with about my paragraph

y/ndevils00 is it that it’s not long enough? i’m sorry, i’ll make it longer next time!

nicohischier please DON’T.

lhughes_06 ya know, you were a lot nicer before i joined the team

y/ndevils00 oh good! that means i’m doing this right!

lhughes_06 doing what right?

y/ndevils00 tough love!

dawson1417 i didn’t do anything :(

y/ndevils00 i know, sugarplum!

dawson1417 they jailed me…

y/ndevils00 i can’t imagine how traumatic that must’ve been for you

dawson1417 oh it wasn’t that bad, you were in there too

y/ndevils00 yeah…. lindy put me there in 2nd intermission. he said if i wouldn’t stop chirping the capitals as though i was a player, then i needed to be treated like a player and get a penalty…. then i couldn’t get out because the game started again

dawson1417 you can’t skate, how did you get in?

y/ndevils00 i was betrayed

nicohischier @/y/ndevils00 i stand by it.

y/ndevils00 @/nicohischier YOU ALMOST DROPPED ME TWICE

nicohischier those were on purpose.

dawson1417 and how did you get out?

y/ndevils00 my knight in shining armor!

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 i didn’t get you out?

jesperbratt i did!

jackhughes oh, yeah, that makes sense

#media management au!#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

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sweetestdesire · 1 year

Note

congratulations baby!! you deserve it💞💞💞

🥤are you thirsty?: rafe with a gun kink😁😁😁

AWAKENED THROUGH THE GUN

WARNINGS: hair pulling, gun play, extreme domination, gun penetration, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Rafe Cameron takes Fem!Reader fully to the edge into obsession.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you so much for the request, baby. I hope you enjoy <3

let’s have a sleepover at mine!

"You know,” Rafe breathed, allowing the gun to slip to lightly scratch its way over Y/N’s chin and down the smooth line of her neck. His body tightened as a soft gasp of pleasure slipped from her still parted lips.

“If my gun turns you on this bad,” Rafe continued, skillfully hooking the spaghetti strap of her slip with the hammer of the gun to ease it seductively down her shoulder.

"I can't help but wonder what this will do.” He rasped, his voice full of heat, as he made a slow path from her shoulder to her full round exposed breast.

Curiously, he made slow lazy circles round and round her breast. The cry of desire that tore innocently from her lips as he pressed the muzzle down atop her hard, eager nipple was almost his undoing.

Despite herself, Y/N was powerless to stop herself from arching her back. She couldn't for one second explain what was going through her head as she pressed her breast harder against the cold steel barrel of the gun. All she knew for sure was that the muzzle of the gun seemed to be a sooth the sudden throbbing of her nipple as hollow barrel scraped the sensitive flesh teasingly.

“Please, Rafe”. Y/N found herself whimpering, though she had no clue exactly what it was she was pleading for.

"What does this make you want me to do to you?" Rafe questioned teasingly, amused and aroused by her loud raspy sighs and whimpers.

"I don't know." Y/N panted honestly, barely noticing as he removed his weight from her completely to lie on his side next to her. “Just don't stop." She pleaded breathlessly, feeling as though she'd drop off the edge of the world if his attention were to cease.

Rafe’s blood was boiling. He was fully aware of the power he had. He felt that every second he didn't pull the trigger, she belonged more and more to him. These moments made him remember the woman he fell in love with. His smile showed a mouth full of perfectly white teeth, his eyes gleaming.

"I should really be offended.” Rafe teased, as he lifted he head from his palm to slip the other strap free of her shoulder. "You seem to love my gun more than you love me." He chuckled, dragging the gun down her abdomen over her hip and thigh to catch the hem of her slip and tug it up, giving him a full view of her tanned toned legs.

Careful to keep his fingertip between the trigger and the trigger guard, he forced the gun lightly between her clenched thighs. He wanted much, much more than she ever wanted to give, quite a bit more than an innocent game should demand.

"That's not true." She panted, clenching her thighs closed tightly.

Y/N could feel the quickening of her heart beat and the moistening of her panties as he began to work the barrel in slow sensual circles against her woman hood. As she felt his lips pressing seekingly against her nipple and his tongue begin to flick attentively over the sensitive flesh, she couldn't stop her hands from reaching for him.

"I think you're lying." Rafe teased, blowing warm air onto her damp nipple expertly as he pressed the gun harder against her pulsing pussy.

His breath caught in his throat as she dug her manicured finger nails into his shoulder and forearm. He began to move the gun faster against her, hardening to the brink of near explosion with each of her soft eager whimpers.

"Please, Rafe.” Y/N panted, instinctively grinding herself against the solid pressure of the gun against her. She felt her body tensing nearing the edge of passion. She was helpless to do more than cling to him as waves of pleasure washed over her.

"Good girl." Rafe’s voice sounded far in the distance despite their closeness, his praise only heightening her climax.

He stilled next to her until her breaths began to slow and calm, stilling after such an intense build up of exertion. Exhaustion over took her, her mind and body felt different than they ever had. He smiled at her softly, a mockery of affection. He couldn’t wait to shed every ounce of her innocence completely.

Rafe leaned down close to whisper in her ear, “Oh, baby. We’re so far from being done.”

TAGLIST: @lovedetlost @valeriiecameron @outerbankspov @ailee-celeste @adventuresinobx @tee-swizzle @pankowperfection @blueicequeen19 @maybankslover @drewbooooo @penny4yourthoughts @variety-fangirl @fangirlwithlou @thecameronchronicles @lafantasiaworld @softsatnin @glutenfreepeach @rafesmoon

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kirisslut · 1 year

Text

—I Can Treat You So Much Better w/ Eijirou Kirishima

—Cw: bestfriend!kirishima, cheating, phone sex, facetime sex, masturbation, toxic!partner, UNEDITED

—Summary: your partnet is toxic and your best friend, Eiji, thinks you deserve a lot better

—Author's Note: I got out of a toxic relationship roughly 2 monthes ago and I’ve unintentionally made it a new personality trait and I think about it everyday and it came to my mind while thinking of smut ideas and someone please help me I don’t want to think about that- anyway enjoy me self projecting to the fucking extreme :)) Also I tried to make this gender netural but reader is afab and i wrote it with my ex in mind so if I accidentally called the ex a boyfriend at some point I apologize- ALSO I HAVENT WRITTEN IN FOREVER SO SORRY IF THE WRITING IS BAD

—Please keep in mind that you must be 15+ to read this piece, thank you <3

Eijirou hated this, he hated everything about it. Eijirou has had feelings for you for a couple years now, ever since middle school. He hasn’t had to see you with very many partners before, there were a couple of few month relationships with people that he didn’t particularly like but they treated you well so he wasn’t too bent out of shape over it. But this was by far his least favorite relationship of yours. You had been dating this person for about six months now and he hated everything about them. First off, he thought you were way too pretty to be with this person. In his eyes, they were a one and you were an eleven. Secondly, they treated you horribly. They said mean stuff to you, upset you, made everything about them, didn’t respect your consent, and so much more. And on top of that, they were horrible in bed. They made the most bold and most wrong movements and refused to educate theirself on your body and what you enjoyed. On top of that, there was never any aftercare whatsoever.

And it pissed Eijirou off. You were perfect to him, how come you gave this person a chance and not him and let them treat you horribly? Well one night, he had enough, Eijirou finally snapped. This was the fourth time that week that you’d texted him, saying some along the lines of “i was hanging out w/ p/n and they really upset me because…”. And that was the last straw for him, he was gonna remind you of your worth.

Y/n: Eiji, they did it again. We were making out and it was kinda going further and they did something wrong and it hurt so I asked them to stop and they asked if I was just turned on too much-

Eiji: I’m sorry sweetheart, your partner sucks :( why don’t you facetime me?

Not even five seconds later a call was coming through and he answered it, smiling at the sight of your face.

“Hi, pretty, how’re you?” He asked, running a hand through his hair. You gave a small smile in return.

“Hi Eiji, not great.” You were laying in bed, one hand holding up your phone while you laid your head down on your arm, “I just wish they’d take the time to figure out what I like…y’know?”

“I know, love, I’m sorry they’re like that. You deserve a lot better than that, you’re gorgeous. Anyone who doesn’t wanna treat you right in bed is a total idiot.”

Your cheeks heated up a bit and you smiled at Eijirou, “Thanks, Eiji.” Eijirou was sitting up, his phone propped up on his desk, with a controller in his hands, you assumed he was playing a video game. He was wearing a tight gray shirt, it perfectly outlined his pecs and showed off how big his shoulders were. You started unintentionally staring, and who could blame you? Eijirou was hot. Even you, as his totally platonic, never gonna be anything more, best friend could see that.

“Sweetheart? Are you even listening to me?” Eijirou asked, looking straight at you. Your cheeks heated up more and you looked away.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just spaced out,” you replied.

“What were you thinking about, sweetheart?”

Your next reply took a moment, you were scared to say it. This was wrong, everything about this was wrong. You were facetiming your best friend who calls you every pet name under the sun, to complain about your boyfriend, and on top of that you were thinking about how hot he was. But you were desperate.

“..you.”

Eijirou paused, making eye contact with you, “What about me, pretty?”

“...I was looking at your chest…and thinking about how you’d treat me so much better than p/n.”

The smirk that spread across his face killed you. You might as well go get a new name and move to a completely new country at this point, because you were so embarrassed.

“Oh, you know I would, sweetheart. I bet you don’t even think about them when you two are getting into it, bet you just thinking about me, huh?” And he wasn’t exactly wrong. Sometimes you found your mind drifting to Eijirou when you were getting intimate with p/n. You didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.

You nodded, “You’re just so pretty, Eiji, and p/n can’t make me cum…bet you could. You have pretty hands..and I’ve seen the way your fingers move on your controller.” You started subtly rubbing your thighs together, trying to relieve the feeling forming between your legs.

“I definitely could, pretty. I’d eat you out so good if I could, bet you taste amazing,” Eijirou says, setting down his controller and turning his full attention to you, “Why don’t you take off your shirt, sweetheart? I wanna see what I would have to work with.”

This, you hesitated on, more so than the other stuff. Talking was just one thing, but to show Eijirou your body would be straight up cheating, absolutely no excuses.

“Well, I don’t know..I don’t wanna cheat on p/n.., I’m just upset at him right now.”

“Come on, sweetheart, when does he ever care about your feelings? You deserve so much better than that. Just this one time, honey, I wanna show you what you could have. And I wanna see what that loser is failing to make feel good. They’re so stupid, I bet you’re super sensitive, I could make you feel so good.”

Eijirou’s sweet sweet words got to your head and soon enough you were propping your phone up, sitting on your knees, legs spread a little with nothing but an oversized shirt and short shorts on. The shorts hugged your thighs and pussy. Eijirou could see the outline and you swear he whispered “fuck” at a couple points. Slowly, you took your shirt off and Eijirou’s eyes widened. No bra.

It made sense, you were home and nobody wants to wear a bra when relaxing in their own home, but he was just a little startled. He didn’t mind though, of course. A hand drifted down to his sweatpants, palming his half-hard cock through the fabric.

“Look at you, sweetheart, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Those are the best tits I’ve ever seen, you wanna show me some more? I bet your pussy is just as pretty.”

“Mm, can I see you first, Ei? Please? Just wanna see your abs please,” you beg and Eijirou smirks a little, taking off his shirt. He was so perfect, perfectly tanned skin that was so smooth, and his muscles were gorgeous. You bit your lip, looking at his perfect body.

“Now take off your shorts, sweetheart, I wanna see,” Eijirou said, and you happily obliged. You slipped your shorts and panties off, spreading your legs a little more, “Fuck, pretty, you’re soaked. Do you have any toys there with you? I bet you’re one of those little whores who needs to play with their pussy every night before they go to sleep.”

Your cheeks heat up, “Y-yeah, I have toys…do you want me to use some..?”

“Yes, pretty, it’s no replacement for my cock or my tongue, but it’ll have to do. After all, we’re just testing this out, right? No cheating.”

You nod, “Mhm, not cheating. Just testing it out.”

“Good girl.” You reach into your bedside drawer and pull out a little box, showing Eijirou the contents on the call.

“What should I use, Ei?”

“How about you use that wand vibrator and that pink dildo? I think that’d look cute stuffed in your pussy,” Eijirou says, returning to palming himself. He was so hard for you, you were just too hot. You removed the toys from the box, putting it back and resuming your original position.

Suddenly, you were shy, you’d never done this over the phone before. You took a moment, and Eijirou didn’t rush you and eventually you mumbled, “Can I see your cock first?”

Eijirou smiled, “Of course you can, sweetheart.” He pulled his sweatpants and underwear down a little and then you saw it, your eyes widening a bit. Eijirou was huge, atleast seven inches. It was so pretty, p/n was nowhere near that size, nor was it as pretty or well kept as Eijirou’s. Eijirou ran a hand up his length, watching you, “This is all for you, sweetheart, you’re so pretty. It gets me all hard.”

“..you’re hot too, gets me all wet..”

“How about you get something in that pussy then, sweetheart? Show me how you get off after your shitty partner fails to make you cum.”

You don’t hesitate anymore before sinking down onto your dildo, not bothering with the vibrator quite yet. Eijirou kept pumping his length, watching the way your pussy swallows your toy up. After adjusting, you started bouncing on your dildo, making yourself feel good. Strings of moans left your lips, getting off on the fact that your best friend was watching you pleasure yourself.

“Look at you go, sweetheart, you’re just so horny, huh? Not even thinking about p/n anymore, just thinking about cumming and my fat cock.”

“Fuck- yes Ei, ‘m thinking about your cock in my pussy, it’d stretch me out so so so good, d-don’t think I could take it,” you said as you reached for your vibrator, turning it on and pressing it to your clit. Eijirou stroked himself faster.

“Oh, you definitely could, pretty, I know you’d take it so good. Can already picture you creaming all over it. Shit- I’m getting close, cum with me.”

And that you did, you came around the dildo with no thoughts in your mind other than Eijirou and your orgasm. You slowly stopped, panting, and your phone buzzed. You glanced at it, at the top of the screen there was a singular notification.

My Love <3 : hey u busy?

“Mmm, that was so hot, sweetheart. Did you enjoy that?”

Y/n: yeah abt to go to bed, gn ily

“Yeah, Ei, of course I did…why don’t you come over?”

#jjs.going.to.hell #kirishima smut #eijirou kirishima #eijirou kirishima smut #bnha smut #bnha #mha smut #mha #eijirou smut #eijirou kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha eijirou #kirishima eijirou #kiri smut #kirishima x reader smut #eijirou kirishima x reader smut

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flame-resistant · 1 month

Text

He felt sick. Why did you look at him like that? Why were you being so nice? Why weren't you scared of him like everyone else? It made his skin itch just enough; he needed it to stop.

Content: stalking, death threats, yandere

He remembered you well, the look you gave when you offered him the soda. How you said it was an extra by mistake, a kind gesture that just didn’t sit well with him. What was your game? Didn’t know who he was? Even if you didn’t, how could you not see he was bad news, how disgusting he looked. A bitter feeling entered his chest as Shigaraki watched you leave, off to do God knows what, just a stupid little civilian who didn’t know any better. You made him sick.

It didn’t take him long to find your social media, only a few days of trying to fish for information. The area the two of you met in was near a university, you looked about his age, so a student fit and damn was he correct. Even there you presented as this kind individual who could do no wrong. Helping with the needy and deprived like some saint, an obsessive thought edging its way into his mind. What would happen if someone made you snap? A grin crossed his dry lips as the bright screen created a halo around his thin figure, but he was far from angelic, and he was damned to prove you weren’t as well.

“Hey who is this loser posting hate comments in your posts?” A friend had asked after you received a few hate comments, while cyberbullying and trolling wasn’t a new topic, it was odd that your small blog would be hit. Shrugging your shoulders, eyes skimmed the words from the anonymous user: “fraud”, “die in a hole”, “you think this makes you good?”; it almost seemed this user was taking everything personal. Though you couldn’t figure out just what you did to them specifically.

“It’s probably just someone mad and taking it out on random blogs, no? We never interacted before so we can’t possibly know each other. Look, we don't even follow the same accounts.” That was a good point, your friend mumbled in agreement. Perhaps it really just was some spam account, they only told you to be careful in case it got more extreme.

“Just be sure to take screenshots if they threaten you.”

And you did, the comments not stopping only growing by the hour. It got to the point you had to block the account, something you usually didn’t do but felt pressured due to the volume of spam comments and your friend saying they deserved it. A part of you was tempted to just reach out and ask what their problem was, an idea that was dropped when mentioned in your social group. Brows furrowed as the others called you too nice, that people don’t think like you, that some are just fucked up.

It seemed to be going well, after the block the hate comments stopped, and things started to go back into the boring norm of college classes and hanging out in your free time. A notification on your phone distracted you from the recent discussion with your study group. Blood leaving your being as you read the message sent to you, a new account, but the same words.

“Did you really think blocking me would help? I knew it, you’re just like the rest of the trash in this world. One day you’re going to wake up and everything around you is going to be dead, that goody-two-shoes attitude won’t be able to help you either. You’re all going to die and I’m going to do it.”

All attention was back on you when your phone dropped to the floor, your face pale from the feeling of anxiety growing inside you. Saying a quick “excuse me”, they watched you leave to the bathroom in a fit of paranoia. The mirror staring back at you showed a reflection that was never crossed before; widened eyes and mouth agape as you caught your breath. Mind raced with thoughts as you moved to check the stalls behind you, a breath of relief seeing that you were alone.

After the lovely encounter with your new pen pal, your friends convinced you to go to the police in hopes of finding the creep. Though it was shown they couldn’t pinpoint a good enough address, something about a VPN, your mind distracted by other things than computer tech. Looking out the window, every person became a possible threat. Was it the guy in the hoodie getting into a cab? Maybe the woman who was screaming at her phone while ordering a coffee. Your trust in humanity slowly dwindles, a hand on your shoulder breaking those negative thoughts as your friends give a few reassuring smiles. You weren’t fighting this by yourself, you had support.

Taking the police’s advice on blocking the account and switching your social to private, you had a bit more hope that maybe this would end. The small group headed back to your apartment as your friends discussed how crazy the person was. Your mind once more lost in thought on trying to figure out just what you did. The person said you were a goody-two-shoes, maybe they just meant your social media likes and posts, though something in your gut said it was more than just that. It was like they took your existence personally, as if you had truly offended them. A part of you wanted to at least try and apologize for whatever the fuck you did, but the other part knew it would anger the anon more. For now, you decided to push it aside, you did what you could.

Again, things seemed to be calming down, while it was frustrating to be on private, you knew you had to wait it out until things died down. A few weeks, maybe a month or two? God, you just wanted this to be over with, surely the person must have moved on by now, right? Someone couldn’t be that obsessed with freaking you out. So, after a month and a half you opened up your social to the public again. A few happy comments from some mutuals on seeing you back, glad to hear you were doing well. It felt good, almost therapeutic to have that control back.

Another week and still no hate comments from random accounts, maybe they really did give up? You could be so hopeful. Checking your phone for a notification at the store entrance, you moved to place it back in your pocket before being hit by an oncoming person’s shoulder. A quick apology was sent their way as you fumbled with your phone from almost dropping it. Not receiving a reply, you figured the person was just in a rush. The dark hoodie blending in with a crowd of bystanders. Hearing your phone beep caused your eyes to leave the crowd and until the new notification. A simple sentence message from a new account: watch it.

“So, the creep really does know you? We need to go back to the police!” After the encounter, you booked it to your friend’s place, not feeling safe going shopping alone. Shaking your head, you knew it would be pointless. You didn’t get a good look at the person; from what you could see they looked male but that was just a hunch. The police would just shrug it off like they did before, not enough evidence did nothing to help them possibly hunt down a culprit.

“They’ll just blow it off again, tell me to put my blog on private again. It was torture not getting to talk to my friends outside of our group, I don’t want to do it again.”

“Yeah, but this creep saw you! They literally shoulder bumped you!

“But I didn’t see them.”

The two of you fell quiet, a huff from them knowing you were right despite how annoying and stressful the situation was. “So, the guy can just keep stalking you and the police won’t do shit, ridiculous.”

It was, but it was also legal. An agreement came after this that you wouldn’t be left alone if it could be worked out. More eyes meant more chances of seeing who the guy was, which made sense. Part of you felt bad that your friends made sure to be around before and after your classes and even walking you home. They would reassure you it was fine, that they rather do this than hang up missing posters.

Every now and then a new message would surface from a new account, statements about what you were wearing, even pictures taken of yourself and your friends. Screenshots saved before blocking the next account. It was almost starting to feel normal, as if on cue you knew he would send you a new notification on the dot. And one of those days you finally felt bold, what could he do anyway, you weren’t alone so he couldn’t exactly hurt you, besides you almost wanted him to do something in public to put an end to this and call the police.

moth.eater sent: You should try the mountain dew, maybe it would give some spice to your lame life. netizen.55 sent: Why are you doing this? What did I even do to you? moth.eater sent: I just want to see you tick.

That was it, all he wanted was to piss you off? He was doing a shitty job at that, if anything he was just scaring you into a corner. A phrase you remembered from your psych class came back to your mind, anger was a secondary emotion usually from rejection or fear. This guy was trying to scare you to the point of anger, the thought alone didn’t settle well with you. That rush of adrenaline hitting you once more before you could rationalize your response.

netizen.55 sent: I’m not scared of you.

That seemed to do it, it was the first time he blocked you. A feeling of pride filled your lungs, it’s been a while since you felt this satisfied. You won this weird argument; the block proved it enough. He should leave you alone now.

It itched; his skin never stopped burning despite how much he scratched. Red eyes stared through the screen; past the words you so bluntly wrote. You weren’t scared of him? Maybe not right now, but you would be. Every single person in this stupid world would be, sensei said so after all. The chair rolled back behind Shigaraki as he grabbed his old hoodie.

Final exams were nearing, but now that your number one hater had been leaving you alone it seemed less daunting. Your friends were even able to do their own things again which helped the guilt die down, no more being some protected being. Picking up the last textbook from the library, it was a straight direction back to your apartment. The time showed just past 7:15pm meaning a few hours of studying before crashing. Sounded like a good Thursday to you, especially with no notifications! A need to skip home almost overcame you, though the look of bystanders kept you in check.

With the apartment door shut and books tossed on the desk, it was time to get to work. Cracking your balcony door just a bit to let a breeze in, your eyes moved to observe the text. It was a relatively quiet night, not yet the weekend in which other college students would be howling below after a few drinks. Sometimes a police siren would go by, nothing too dangerous from the sounds of it, besides a few heroes were patrolling the area. Getting up to take a break, the clock now showing 8:43pm, it didn’t hit you how long you had been reading for. A hand moving to massage your face and wake up. One more hour you told yourself as you walked towards the kitchen for a drink.

Weird, did you leave the kitchen sink on? Brows furrowed as you tried to remember each step you made when you got home but couldn’t really focus due to being in a slight daze. Maybe you washed a dish and forgot to turn the faucet off. Shrugging it off, you turned the handle and moved to the fridge. Cold pizza and a few beers stared back at you, a mental note to get more groceries this weekend was made as you went back to the sink. Maybe past you knew what they were on about with the sink being on.

Cup in your hand, you stopped dead in your tracks, eyes widening from what was staring back at you. The hallway that faced the sink was empty, a window at the very back that usually helped you see what was going on in the dark apartment was now blocked by the figure. Red eyes stared back at your own, each step you took to move back was followed by another from the person.

“You said you weren’t scared of me; you look like everyone else who sees me.” The voice sounded scratched, like he hadn’t drunk anything in years, as if he was the embodiment of a desert. If it didn’t hit before, it hit now on who it was. Quick to run to the bathroom door, the closest one that would get you away from the stalker, you let out a strangled grunt when you were shoved against it instead. Face now pressed into the wood as the palm of his hand kept you in place. “I knew it, once that little facade breaks, you’re just as shitty as everyone else.”

“Let go!”

Not caring about the panic in your voice, you tried to turn around or at least get him to move, a “tsk” was heard as the hooded man showed you the cup you were once holding. Confusion turned into fear as the cup began to turn into dust just by his touch alone, a silent warning that you would be next if you kept it up. Still processing everything that was going on, the only question that could come to mind was asked, your nervous system in full overdrive with logic out the window. “Why?”

“I told you; I just want to see what’s under that mask. You should really think twice on who you offer free drinks to.”

Darkness was the final reply you got, the world shutting down around you. If you survived this, you would keep the extra soda for yourself.

#flameresistant #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki bnha #shigaraki my hero academia #shigaraki x y/n #yandere shigaraki #poor reader just had an extra soda

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l0sercat · 10 months

Text

Yandere Alphabet w/ Gyutaro

Affection — how do they show their love and affection?

He makes rude comments but in a loving way. Like how some friends are rude to each other but in a joking way. He doesn't mean to come off like he hates you, he doesn't! But it's just how he acts he truly loves you and thinks your gorgeous and he doesn't deserve you but that's how he shows affection.

Blood — how messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Extremely messy. He doesn't care who they are (except Muzan and sometimes Daki) they will die pay if they ever touch you or harm you or even breath in your direction. Your his and he'd be damned if someone hurts you.

Cruelty — how would they treat their darling once abducted?

He would be harsh at first never letting you leave and yelling at you when you don't obey him. But as you warm up he is more softer especially when he trusts you. He still doesn't let you leave unless when he is feeling extremely nice. And he Gente with his touches but can be harsh. His words don't soften but you can tell that they come from a loving place.

Darling — aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Yes. Don't want to cuddle? To bad he's got you all curled up and squished underneath him. Don't want him to bite you and get a taste of your blood? To bad he's got your arms pinned and his face buried in your neck while he drinks some of your blood like a vampire.

Exposed — how vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He wouldn't be vulnerable right away but after some time and a lot of trust on his end he would slowly open up. He would trust you more to be around Daki. Now he wouldn't be some softie but he isn't harsh and cruel you get to see a loving side to him.

Fight — how would they feel if their darling fought back?

Hates it. Despises it. If he could he would chop your limbs off but that would be a pain for him because then has had to take care of you 24/7 he wants a partner not a patient, he isn't a nurse.

Game — is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It's would start as a game something to entertain him but he then started to really fall hard. Then it wasn't so watching you try to flee him wasn't amusing and started to annoy him.

Hell — what would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

When you first got there. Gyutaro was manipulative (still is) and toxic. He would yell at you and insult you and Daki hated you.

Ideals — what kind of future do they have in mind for their darling?

You, him, and Daki living somewhere nice and comfortable, safely without having to worry about anything.

Jealousy — do they get jealous? How do they handle it?

Yes he does get jealous. He likes seeing you get along with his sister but sometimes he gets jealous or her and just snatches you away. He'll take you to his room and hold you and pout.

Kisses — how do they act around or with their darling?

He can be really sweet and kind and take care of you but sometimes he can be harsh because something set him off.

Love letters — how would they go about approaching their darling?

He would go into your house at night and kidnap you. He knows you wild never accept him so he will have to force you to.

Mask — are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Nah. Well not at first. Like I said until he trusts you he'll be harsh until he softens up.

Naughty — how would they punish their darling?

Insults and screaming. Now I don't believe he would ever truly hurt you unless absolutely necessary. He may grip your arms and leave marks/bruises or leave a few scratches but nothing major.

Oppression — how many rights would they take away from their darling?

Most of them if not all. Gyutaro just simply doesn't care. He'll barge in on you changing and just blames you for not locking the door but even if you did he would break it down.

Patience — how patient are they with their darling?

He has hardly any patience if any. So darling needs to know how to be submissive and not press them.

Quite — if their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If darling dies he would be devastated and poison the person who did it. If darling escapes he would search forever. You have a good chance of successfully leaving but if he catches you he'll make sure that it will never happen again.

Regret — would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling?

No 💀

Stigma — what brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Most likely childhood and his upbringing.

Tears — how do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He could care less sometimes but other times it pisses him off. He doesn't want to hear your screams and pleas and isolating yourself is pointless because he can just break the door if needed.

Unique — would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He doesn't like to hurt you but will if needed. He's gotten the worst of the treatment and knows how it feels and he views darling as something precious. So he wouldn't want them to get dirty because the scars won't go away and he doesn't want to be reminded of how he beat you.

Vice — what weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He can't go out in the day time so if darling can somehow manage to escape then they will have to run fast because we it comes nightfall Gyutaro will hint after you.

Wit’s end — would they ever hurt their darling?

He would try not to but do it as a last resort if you don't behave.

Xoanon — how much would they revere or worship their darling?

He doesn't worship you but you are someone high in his eyes. Not as high as Daki but almost on her level.

Yearn — how long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Maybe a couple days at the most a month. He isn't patient.

Zenith — would they ever break their darling?

He would if you didn't behave and never fell to Stockholm syndrome.

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tapioca-puddingg · 4 months

Text

Why GoWR Valhalla Is Important

Hey. It's me again. This time I'm not yelling about Kingdom Hearts or Drakengard, but I wanted to talk about God of War Ragnarök: Valhalla today and why I think it's important in trauma-centered narratives. This isn't a detailed analysis, just me spitballing.

SPOILER WARNING: There will be spoilers for God of War Ragnarök: Valhalla, so please proceed with caution!

EDITED: 2/26/24

As a brief summary, Kratos spent almost the entirety of GoW 2018 refusing to talk about his past. His guilt, shame, and trauma deeply affected his relationship with his son, to the point where he didn't want to be around Atreus bc he was terrified of being a bad influence on him. It was only when Atreus' life was in danger did it force him to finally admit just a sliver of the truth. Now I don't mean to say that Kratos revealing his godhood wasn't a big deal because it absolutely was, I'm just saying that it's just one piece of a MUCH bigger story. Anyway, he recognized his past mistakes, but the shame was too much for him to openly acknowledge it until damn near the end of the game.

Come Ragnarök, Kratos was pretty much an open book. He had grown SO much in those short years of fimbulwinter: He openly talked about his trauma to Mimir and Freya. He worked so hard to be a good father and a good support system to his friends. He went out of his way to make amends with Freya and restore their friendship. And he fought to restore peace to the Nine Realms.

But come Valhalla, Freya wants to recruit Kratos to be the new God of War of the nine realms, or at least to be a part of the new peacekeeping council that she's putting together. Kratos is extremely hesitant to take up the mantle. He doesn't feel worthy or deserving enough to hold this position given all that he's done. He and Mimir (and later on, Tyr) are constantly going back and forth about it. Both perspectives are completely valid. Valhalla is about Kratos facing his past in a more literal sense; parts of Greece have been manifested from Kratos' memories of it, so it's like he gets to be there in real time again. This is about helping him process what happened and to add some nuance to the conversation. It's like free therapy for Kratos.

It's funny too bc you have both opposing viewpoints being represented. On one hand, you have Mimir and Tyr being the supporting/validating voice, and Helios is the contrarian. Since he's a manifestation of Kratos' memories, he represents the doubts that Kratos has about himself. The harsh voice to show how hard he is on himself, and not without good reason.

The reason why I think Valhalla is so important is bc in media, survivor narratives are often linear. The character just "gets over" their trauma and then that trauma isn't addressed again. It's presented more as a hurdle than a lifelong battle. I guess this goes to show how misunderstood survivorhood is. But that isn't how healing works. We regress sometimes, and sometimes we still mull over the things that have happened to us. We might heal, but that trauma does leave emotional scars. So even after the many leaps and bounds Kratos has made, he's not "over" his past, far from it! It still haunts him every day and every night. Valhalla is Kratos still processing everything. From my own healing journey, I've learned that it takes a long, long time to fully process your trauma, if there even is a "fully", anyway. It takes a long time to learn and understand all the complexities and how it affects you in current day. And it takes even longer to process such a complicated history like Kratos'.

Generally speaking about the idea of processing trauma, I said earlier that survivorhood is extremely misunderstood by the masses. Imo, our society is very anti-victim/anti-survivor. So with that in mind, from the perspective of the audience, some might perceive the processing trauma bit as repetitive or "milking it". These are mediums of entertainment after all, so ofc I understand wanting to put out an engaging story where the audience doesn't lose interest. But screw those ppl lol. We have to understand why we do what we do if we want to do better, and it's amazing that a video game is willing to have these conversations. Being more open about all the nuances of processing trauma, grief, healing, etc will go such a long way.

Even the roguelite gameplay style perfectly reflects this theme. Processing this stuff is slow. It doesn't happen overnight. Unless you're in Valhalla, I suppose.

Okay I said this wasn't a detailed analysis but I lied. I'm a liar now

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yuri-is-online · 1 year

Text

Oh No You Don't (Ruggie Bucchi x Reader)

a/n: Happy birthday Ruggie you have one of the best voices in Twisted Wonderland and if your VA gets work in an otome game in the future I will die. Sorry this is so short he just deserves a good birthday after everything he's been through and I had a dumb idea.

notes: They/Them pronouns used for Yuu, LOTS OF FOUL LANGUAGE, idiots in love, ex delinquent Yuu trying really hard to wife Ruggie up, idiots in love.

Ruggie has a tendency to forget you aren't like his other friends. He doesn't need to pull sympathy cards to get you to do stuff for him; all he really needs to do is say please, if that. Still it is second, maybe first nature for him to put on a big show after you agree to get something to eat with him. And maybe it's your first nature to be a bit cruel when you respond by flicking him right between the eyes as soon as he begins to "search" for his wallet.

"Yeow!" You don't even look the slightest bit sorry.

"Don't pull that shit with me. It's your fucking birthday, who the fuck do you take me for." He winces, pride smarting as much as his face as you barely give him time to recover, yanking him by the sleeve towards the front gate. "As if you wouldn't get treated on your fucking birthday. 'Oooooh I forgot my wallet.' Piss off, we're friends moron." He knows that of course. It's why he slyly pulls your sleeve just enough to make you trip and stumble so he can take you by the hand, shishishing to make it seem like one big joke.

"Next thing you'll tell me is I get to have you to myself for the day." he squeezes your hand and tries not to panic when you intertwine your fingers as you squeeze him back.

"What you think I'd invite someone else along to steal you're food? That'd be lame." And he guesses it would be, but his heart's too fit to burst to really protest.

~~~

Sometimes Ruggie is painfully aware you aren't like his other friends. He has no idea why you are calling this place a "Korean" barbecue restaurant, well that's not completely true. You're from a different world, with different customs, people, a completely different history. It's easy to forget that when you push away his hands to cook the meat yourself, you've clearly done this sort of thing before. It's easy to remember when he sees the way the hostess looks at you, in complete awe of you and the way the sunlight seems to kiss your figure. You flinch in annoyance at the attention, but the disapproving side eye you both send the girl's way does little to dissuade the attention. "I know what 'm doing." Ruggie wonders what you'd look like with a pout, he's only ever really seen you scowl like you are now, not that he's complaining about your looks.

"You sure about that chef?" He snatches up some of the squid from your plate and your face writhes, as if you somehow can sense his desires and are jumping to try and provide. "Oooh yeah I can see why she's so offended, gonna need you to provide some more examples." Your glare is pure ice, but the little puff to your cheeks makes your fake fury easy to endure. He was right, big bad scary you looks cute like this. The hostess gives you one last, lengthy appreciative look you take the exact wrong way that has Ruggie in stitches.

He wishes he could say he's always looked at you like that, but he knows it would be a lie. Your friendship was hard won, though Ruggie doesn't feel like he's worked hard enough for the way you look at him. It's soft, but he can't really call it pity or brush it aside as admiration. He wonders if he looks at you the same way.

~~~

Ruggie is extremely grateful you aren't like his other friends. When you catch him trying to hustle Silver you roll your eyes and bounce back to whatever conversation you were having with Jack, strategically stepping between him and the wolf's line of sight. He hasn't even complained about him to you specifically, you just knew. As the party dwindles down and everyone begins to make their excuses you simply crack your back and get to organizing.

"You got a lot of shit here." You say with a low whistle, and he puffs with pride.

"Gonna be hard to beat this haul next year." Not that he isn't going to try, so long as he's at NRC he should push every advantage he has to improve his life. "Say prefect." He turns to you with a grin as you sigh completely prepared for the act he's about to put on with your best "unamused" look. It turns into a slight smile as he lets out an exaggerated yawn and shows what a proper pout looks like. "Today was just sooo exhausting." You're already picking up his bags and boxes. "I'm gonna have such a hard time carrying everything back to my room."

"Well good thing I'm here to give you one last present then." His ears flick back in annoyance.

"Hey hey hey, helping me and giving a present are two different things." You laugh, and lean over to kiss him right between the eyes just as he begins to reach for a stack of gifts.

"Happy birthday Ruggie." You pull back to admire your work, hoisting up the majority of the boxes and settling them on your hip as you move to take his hand.

"Two presents." he mutters, trying desperately to wipe the grin off his face and settle his wagging tail. "You owe me two more presents for that joke." You grin and pull him along towards his dorm, the both of you moving to intertwine your fingers as he shishishis to show just how pleased he is with the development.

Ruggie has a tendency to forget that you aren't like his other friends, but then again, you don't quite seem to mind.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #ruggie bucchi #not super satisfied with this one but hey #i have something nicer planned for him in the future

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yuikomorii · 4 months

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After thinking more deeply about it, people shouldn’t get mad when seeing the majority shipping AyaYui because they are the most perfect for each other…not always in the good way. They are both obsessive weirdos that are unable to communicate properly and end up doing so much dumb shit that not only hurts them but also the ones around them.

Now I’m not saying they are the most problematic characters in the game, but they just are such menaces for whoever is connected to them. They be wondering why Yui wouldn’t make such a good couple with Subaru and Azusa but the reason is that they’re exactly too soft for her. They just want a kind and motherly girl but Yui keeps putting them in uncomfortable situations, doesn’t respect their boundaries and is unable to comprehend their introversion. Ik she was in a dangerous situation at first but that’s over after the second game, isn’t it? They started dating so if that’s what she truly wanted, she has to take responsibility for that and bring her brain to work.

Now about Mr. Yours Truly, he wasn’t irredeemably bad in the first game but he was such an asshole, let’s be frank. After the first game, Yui started treating him poorly or, again , not paying attention to whatever he was going through but I just couldn’t feel bad for him. They both fucked eachother up so bad but in an equal way so I can’t say any of them is better than the other, like some of their individual fans do. I’m not saying this about the Admin but some Yui and Ayato stans must actually hate the characters and only love their fanon version of them. Just because they forgive their abusers and are friendly doesn’t make them the kindest character anyone has ever seen. They did too many bad things to be considered the kindest and I’m not gonna follow the “they went insane” excuse because I really don’t care. All characters are insane and broken but not all of them did as much shit as they did.

I’m not justifying anything from that dick but e.g. when Karlheinz commits a genocide to make ghouls, he is said to have abused his powers and is evil but when Yui commits a genocide because her cute Ayato-kun 〜 died and kills all living things on both worlds, that’s seen as romantic? Like that’s extremely evil and selfish of her too. Or when others complain about the vampires being possessive and jealous, when Yui is the same person that stabbed Shu and threw him in the dungeon afterwards out of jealousy and she also paralysed Ayato then used him as her pleasure slave only because he drank blood from other chicks. Again, I’m not excusing them but she’s just as worse when triggered enough. All the fanwars are stupid when the game only has characters that wouldn’t be perceived as mentally sane or innocent angels in real life.

// Uuh… you kinda worded it a bit too harshly but I do get where you come from.

The thing is Yui, Ayato, Azusa, Subaru and Yuma are characters described by Rejet as either pure or kind-hearted, yet this doesn’t mean they necessarily have to be saints sent from above 24/7. Good people can react horribly under stress, pressure or shock. Yes, they can do wrong stuff and treat others badly as a result, but this doesn’t mean they have a bad soul. Trauma is not the same from person to person and everyone reacts to it differently. It can turn good people into monsters depending on the severity of the circumstances and some might never come back to their original nature. And, even if they do, this will not excuse their actions, but as long as they try to change for the better and take accountability, I believe they deserve a second chance.

Rejet makes Yui go mad in some endings and After stories to demonstrate that she is capable of doing something as awful as the Diaboys if an event hits her hard enough, just like it did to them. And, to be honest, that's realistic. Of course, not the story, but the fact that every person, no matter how strong, has a breaking point.

Speaking of the genocide committed by Yui, the reason why it’s considered romantic is not the deed itself, but the fact Yui created an Ayato ghoul after exterminating everything, only because she wanted to be killed by the man she loved. I think this was the only time Yui seriously used her brain, and the fact she was crazy when doing that, makes it hilarious.

As for the Yandere endings, Yui does that to Shu in MB, if I recall correctly but it was so unexpected because she really didn’t get any vibes throughout the route, therefore I guess it was just random writing. In Ayato’s route, the obsessive tendencies were obvious when she started looking through Ayato’s swimsuit magazines and tried measuring her boobs to the ones of those girls. I was pretty sure she would pull a possessive move on him later on, lol.

Truth be told, I don't mind that in fictional couples as long as they're both obsessed with each other and it's not one-sided. Besides, it’s funny how even Ruki called Yui “Ayato obsessed” in CL.

As a DL fan, I understand that no character is a total green flag because they all display toxic behavior in regular circumstances, no matter if intentional or not. Nonetheless, that shouldn’t stop us from loving them. Some people prefer the softer aspects of DL, while others prefer the darker, but keep in mind that those who prefer talking well about their favs don't want to be always reminded of all the bad things they did, especially if those characters regret them or weren't in the best mental state at the time.

#admin

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