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#i got hurt by my own shenanigans
zuiz41 · 8 months
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Secret Glances, and Inches Apart.
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It'd be easy to just close the gap between us,
It'd be easy to just kiss you right here.
maybe the longing that had grown in my heart will fade.
for the weight will ease,
and replace with joy,
to get to hold you and love you without fear, finally.
but it's easier said than done.
for dreams to come true, it is impossible.
because having you in my arms is like stars in the sea.
though it looks as if I could touch it easily,
It's just a reflection of what I cannot reach.
So, I'll just settle for what I am used to right now.
To glance at you in secret,
and to imagine what it'll feel if I'm not only inches apart from you.
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overnightheartbeats · 2 months
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 📷 - from wally shhhh shhh 👀
send 📷 for a post of your muse on my muse’s instagram // @martieshub
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helluvapoison · 5 months
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Nice To Eat You
[ii]
The Vees x Cannibal!Reader
warnings: drugs, suggestive, rosie slander, dark themes, violence, security shenanigans and, hello, cannibalism
heads up: if you didn’t know, the people of cannibal town are hellborn; born in hell, never lived on earth, never sinned! their life spans are unknown(?) but seem to age as a human would, unlike other demons
Cannibal town has been off limits to The Vees, courtesy of Vox, ever since the incident with you know who. Meeting you was a suspicious surprise for them. You were kicked out of said town by Rosie for giving cannibals a bad name. Can you fucking believe the irony!?
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Suspicious might be an understatement
• For the longest time, Vox is unnerved by you for every other reason than your appetite. Anyone associated with Rosie is an adversary by proxy. If you take Alastor out of the picture, Rosie is still an Overlord and all Overlords will inevitably crumble to The Vees– even if they don’t know it yet
• There’s an expression for that though, isn’t there? Keep your enemies close. That’s exactly how Vox went about dealing with you
• Gives you a job as his security guard. Hell knows he needs one, what with the price of fame and all, those dirty fucking sinners that try and touch him wherever he goes
• It’s a slow development because neither of you initiate conversation
• Vox is beyond used to the rotating door of demons in and out of his life. He abandons the names of anyone that isn’t you, Velvette or Valentino (Angel Dust and Alastor he can’t forget against his will)
• Becoming attached to you while simultaneously waiting for the other shoe to drop is fucking awful. It feels it like a bug in his system, annoys him to the point his screen starts glitching one day
“Just what the fuck are you up to!? I know you’re with Rosie–”
You knew, on some level, Vox didn’t trust you all the way but it didn’t bother you because he hardly seems to trust anyone. So you cut him off with a mix of a snort and a scoff,
“Rosie? Rosie’s a cunt. She gave me the boot years ago, haven't seen her since.”
Involuntarily, he begins to smile, “Years, huh?”
• Trust is another slow endeavor. Now that Vox doubts your motives slightly less than before, he can silently appreciate the fact you do a damn good job of keeping demons away from him. Bonus: if you happen to take a chunk out of them for shits and giggles, blood never touches his pristine self
• “I believe I owe you an apology,”
“Am I going to get one?”
• In a way, sure, but you’ll be sorely disappointed if you thought it was with words. He invites you to dinner. From that moment until you arrive at the restaurant, he’s reveling in the constant state of shock you seem to be in
• Your eyebrows jump when the waiter nervously lifts the lid from your plate and reveals ribs. Real, demon ribs
“Surprised?” Vox asks rather smugly
“Somewhat,” You return his sly smirk, “Most can’t stomach my… indulgences.”
“I don’t have a stomach. I think I’ll be just fine.”
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Vel doesn’t give two steaming shits about Rosie or her backwards, unflattering town so long as it doesn’t interfere with her enterprise. Vox’s grudges are his own. If The Vees got hellbent and demented over each other’s EOTD (Enemy Of The Day) nothing would get done!
• During a pathetic comment war on the her social, a few threats became too detailed for Vox’s liking
• A cannibal wasn’t his first choice– or second, or third– but you’d certainly scare off anyone trying to hurt his business partner!
• Velvette’s far from worried about being lunch when she meets you.
• “You’re my–? No. Absolutely not! I can’t be seen with this.” She gestures to all of you
“You’re not exactly making me drool either,” You mutter under your breath
• Judging by the looks of her partners’ faces, stunning Velvette to silence was impossible. Key word: was
• It didn’t last long and hasn’t stopped since
• She pulled out every trick in the book to get you to quit. She gave you a uniform to wear during your shifts, tossed fabrics at you until you turned into a living clothes rack, forced you to hold her phone during her live streams but criticized and berated the way you did
• For fucks sake, she even screamed at Vox to let her fire you!
• You didn’t need her to like you and that was as obvious as it was infuriating. She was Velvette! Everyone loved her! Having you around was like a black eye; literally bruising her ego and bad for business
• Or so she thought
• She made you stand in the shadows of her studio so you wouldn’t frighten anyone and ruin photoshoots with your “freaky face” she so eloquently put it.
• Velvette was mid fashion crisis, yelling at Joanne for the gazillionth time, when you approached from behind
“I’m taking my lunch.”
“Fucking fantastic! Here, have Joanne since she insists on being fucking useless!”
Playing along, you let a guttural growl rip from your throat, making Joanne jump high in the air.
She squeaked and shook her head vigorously, holding her hands in surrender, “I-I’ll be better, I swear!”
• Her candy cane eyes widened in delighted surprise. How had she been so blind to your potential usefulness!?
• Velvette could get high off the new game she created with you. It was like having a scary guard dog– only better dressed to aesthetics. Paparazzi didn’t dare touch her now, standing at a respectable distance that made her more unattainable and desirable than before
• Her attitude change makes her like-able to you too, she’s heaps more pleasant to be around now. You don’t mind doing the extra stuff that wasn’t in your contract like being a dress up doll, dealing with the pet names or escorting her to events. She knows and takes advantage of this instead of saying how she feels
• “You’re my arm candy now, dollface! You go where I go.”
“I hardly think I qualify as arm candy,” You mumble to her, overtly aware of how she holds you close to her
“If you’re fishing for compliments, fuck off to another pond. I don’t waste my free time with uggos,” She says seriously, abruptly smiling as a camera flashes in her direction, “Now get ready. Fans have been dying to get a picture with me lately and if anyone smudges this dress with their dirty fucking fingers, I want you to bite them off!”
“Anyone that touches you won’t have hands tomorrow,” You promise
• You swear she shivers upon hearing that
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• The easiest by far to get along with. In a mortifying way
• Val is fairly accepting of all Hell’s creatures. It’s typically followed up by something sexual but, hey, you’re not in a position to complain, not when no one else in Hell would willingly sign up to work with a cannibal. Especially one outside the confines of Rosie’s civil town
• Rosie’s loss is his gain
• You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting him to turn horror-struck but he barely blinks when you explain what you did to get exiled. Your savage methods intrigue him, a plethora of potentials just waiting to be explored. In fact, he goes a step further to praise you for being different
• “Hell would be deathly boring if everyone thought the same way, darling. That’s what makes you so… alluring.” He rolled his tongue with the last word, dragging it out and making it ring in your ears
• You’d been called many things in your afterlife, but never that
• You feel rather useless at the moth’s side. You were supposed to be protecting him but he could take care of himself just fine. Val was about the tallest in every room (if not the tallest) with guns hidden under his coat that he never used
• Later you’d understand he only reached for them as a last resort, when his head was unclouded by blood lust
• If you ever voiced your complaints, he’d be quick to reassure you that you make him look good. What powerful Overlord doesn’t have bodyguards? (Do. Not. Answer.)
• However the day does come when you prove your services have merit. On set of all places! A coked up Hellhound didn’t take kindly to Val’s directions, sending a demon wielding a boom mic flying towards him
• Valentino dodged the demon with ease, whipping around and aiming his pistol to put the dog down. Instead he saw you pushing the mutt’s face into the ground, his arm pinned at an angle. Your sharp teeth were bared at his throat, drool dampening his fur
• But you made no moves without Valentino’s say-so
• There’s a lot he could say about the scenario you provided him and how it made him feel– but he only calls your name, beckoning you back to his side
• Where you belong
• “You’re lucky I don’t like hair in my food,” You growl in the Hellhound’s ear before following after Val
• Valentino may be a mastermind of porn and sex but he knows the real way to a demon’s heart, it’s is the universal love language
• Unbothered by blood, he’ll sit pretty and poised on his loveseat while you tear into the meal he provided you. A thanks for a job well done
• “You’ll never go hungry now that you’re with me, monstruo,” The pet name is dripping with adoration, “I won’t waste you like that bitch did. Look at you, you’re already so special.”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ i lost the request that went to this but i hope it reaches them. cannibal!reader got that rizz, huh?
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lostgirlmuseum · 9 months
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Bucky vs. Book
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^Bucky on his way to you fr^
Summary: Bucky rushes to your aid when he finds out you’re upset. He’s never seen you this distraught before.
Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader
Words: 600 (I don’t think I have ever written something this short before wth)
Warning: It’s kinda angst?? But mostly fluff. 
A/N: Sorry I haven’t been on much lately, school is keeping me busy. I wrote this pretty quickly and it’s just a short little treat while I’m in the middle of writing a mini series. Idk when I’ll finish writing it, but it prob won’t be done this month. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Divider credit: @cafekitsune
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“Bucky?” Sam asked.
“M’ busy.” Bucky mumbled, curling a barbell like it was a dumbbell.
“Someone just informed me they heard crying coming from your girl’s room.”
“What?” Bucky dropped the barbell on the ground with a loud thud. 
“Move, out of the way!” Bucky yelled, nearly knocking Sam over as he started sprinting to the gym exit.
Bucky ran so fast that he was bumping into walls and hitting corners, trying to locate the nearest stairs. 
He took the stairs by three, his heart hammering against his chest, his ears on high alert in case he could hear you calling for him.
Finally, he made it to your room, and swung the door open without a second thought, just needing to know if you were okay. Bucky’s wide eyes spotted you instantly, curled into yourself on the rug, tissues littering the floor, sobbing. He had never seen you so upset.
He wasted no time sliding onto his knees and to you.
“Doll? Doll, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” He tried to lift your chin to see your beautiful face, but you barely acknowledged him, your puffy eyes cast down.
“My h-heart,” you choked, clutching your chest.
“Are you having a heart attack?” He couldn’t stop himself from sliding his hands all over you, checking for injuries.
“I feel– s-so sad,” was all you could make out between sobs.
“Baby, who hurt you?” He was panicking, he needed to know what happened, why you were so distraught so he could fix it. 
“Stupid book!” You cried, and flung yourself at him, holding him close, and tucking your head into his chest. Bucky immediately reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, squeezing you tight, one hand brushing your hair.
That’s when he noticed the outline of a book under a couple tissues.
“It’s not fair,” you cried, body shaking with each breath.
“I know, I know,” he soothed. He, of course, did not know, but he was enormously relieved to see the perpetrator was only a book. 
“They were supposed to end up together! They were p-p-per–” You squeezed him tighter, struggling to get the words out. “Perfect together! Why did the author ruin it? It’s not fair, it’s not fair, they deserve to be happy!” 
“Shhh,” he whispered, starting to rock you back and forth.
“It’s not fair,” you whispered through another cry, and collapsed fully into him.
“It’s not,” Bucky echoed.
Eventually your cries quieted and slowed, and Bucky kissed your forehead and let go of you. You barely had time to question what he was doing when he picked up the book from behind you and started to pretend to punch it. 
“Bad book,” he chastised, “you made my baby cry. Nobody makes my baby cry,”
You couldn’t help but giggle, and wipe the remaining tears from your eyes.
Bucky continued to scold it, and even positioned himself to body slam it.
“Bucky,” you full on laughed, “stop,”
“Not until it apologizes,” he grumbled, faking a chokehold on it. “Oh, shit–” Bucky rolled onto his back and held the book above him, acting out a struggle. “It’s got me baby, help!”
Giving in to his shenanigans, you leaned over and grabbed the book from his hands, and gave it your own weak punch. 
“Fuck you, book,” You sniffed and laughed.
“It can’t hurt you anymore,” Bucky said, patting your back. 
“Thank you, Bucky,” 
“I’ve got you, doll.”
“Why are there dents in all the walls?” Tony’s raised voice could be heard all the way from the floor below.
You looked at Bucky.
“What?” He smiled cheekily. “You needed me.”
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Thank you for reading!
My Masterlist if you'd like to check my other stuff out :)
Oh oh and this is inspired by my reaction to Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. I hate that book so much. I love that book so much.
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 1
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summary ;; As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day? [PART 2] pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; welcome to the labor of my daddy issues and my very own therapy. this fic is inspired by this one by @layonatanvi and I only wanted to borrow the running away from home to get an ikran idea/prompt! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any.
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There’s a widespread belief among sky people that every first-born daughter is a direct copy of her father. 
You listened in on your own father complaining to your mother about this privately one time; according to him, this was why you guys kept banging hammerheads like 'angtsìks. 
Lo’ak was his troublemaker, yes, but you were the rebel pain in his ass, wouldn’t stop questioning one tiny simple step he made, never took anything seriously when he needed you to be on top of things hundred percent of the time... Even your younger brother knew boundaries after he was given the stink eye, but you hadn’t stopped testing him every single goddamn day after the sky people had come back. 
His youngest son and oldest daughter were nearly identical in the speed they got him seeing red, but the similarities ended there. Lo’ak would go behind him to cause trouble, and you would do it right to his face, that fearlessness and defiance made you more dangerous than your brother in your father’s opinion.  
His blood pressure skyrocketing was reserved for Lo’ak and the shenanigans he knew right away the boy was getting into, and you got his explosive anger the moment you would open your mouth to defy him — he couldn’t talk to you, a normal conversation even about your mother’s cooking wasn’t possible without you being passive-aggressive and things snowballing from there. 
(“This is delicious Neytiri, thank you for the food. Sturmbeest?”
“Sturmbeest meat ran out like two weeks ago, father. You ask this everyday and mom answers the same everyday.”
Cue him reprimanding you for talking to him like that, you saying maybe he should greenlight a hunt soon to calm his nerves and promptly being sent to your room. It was Neteyam who’d saved some food for you that night.)
If only you would stop talking back to him and listen for once, he’d said, pacing in the tent with hands on hips like an agitated viperwolf as mother watched on, most likely tired from going through this loop for yet another day. You are the older sister to Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, why can’t you be a role model for them like Neteyam is? 
(Mom had given him the flattest, “She is at the age for such behavior, Ma’Jake, we’ve talked about this. Let her be.”)
In your defense, he didn’t make sense sometimes, what harm was there in wanting him to explain the thought process behind his decisions?
Apparently you simply were prohibited from doing that to the Olo’eyktan. 
But he was father, he was your family. Why did that have to be disrespect? 
He wasn’t like this before.
A small part of you was aware this was you lashing out because you missed your father — the lighthearted rock in your life, the big shadow protecting you from the heat of the world, who knew how to smile and show his love before all of this. Now he was just the leader of the clan, the weight of the revered Toruk Makto on his shoulders made him a total stranger you didn’t recognize. 
He barely ever called you sweetheart anymore, punishing you for being a brat, most likely. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt. 
But it did. You missed him dearly when he was right in front of you. The rest of the family did, too, they just didn’t say it out loud the way you expressed through what you called standing up to him — in reality, it was a statement about the man he had become, father couldn’t read between the lines to understand.
Mom did. 
She would always explain he did it out of love and worry, and his every move had a reason behind it after the scoldings ended. It was as if she saw right through the prickly exterior of her eldest daughter.
Her love wasn’t held back like his was, not shared like military MREs at decided moments in a day in between attacks, raids, meetings and duties. Hers were long touches, hugs, kisses on your temple, shared time and hunts together, her letting you ride on her ikran with her, the warmth of a meal and soft smiles; whilst his was randomly asking how you were after training and where you’ve been if he caught onto your absence sometimes. He didn’t have time for you or your siblings except for Tuktuk these days. That’s why you were now a mama’s girl.
Sooner or later, the breaking point was finally bound to arrive. 
Yours did after a particularly heated-up fight about your rite of passage. You had had enough of father postponing it when Lo’ak, younger than you, had already gained his own ikran and gone through uniltaron. He was present in the tent while you were fussing and debating with your immovable mountain of a father only answering with single syllable responses, and his light snickers made you all the more aggressive. He got a strong jab from Kiri after a loud snort.  
Kiri, you could get. She was built different from the start — got her mount earlier than anybody else, just walked up to it and asked. Besides, the girl wasn’t a dick about it like Lo’ak was. 
“You aren’t ready yet,” father answered the more you asked him. You thought he'd say a different thing the hundredth time, but he didn't. “Your brother was.”
Lo’ak puffed his chest at that, desperate for a drop of recognition as always, and you could only roll your eyes. “So you think I’m weak? I’m not strong enough?”
Father sighed at the provocation. “That’s not what I’m saying. This and being ready are two different things.”
“How are they different? If I’m on top of my training, that means I’m ready.”
“Physically ready, and mentally ready are not the same.”
“How can I not be mentally ready, I’ve already seen what happens—”
“Enough!” He stood up, towering above you and leaning in slightly. Your younger brother had stopped smiling so quickly you almost let a laugh escape you, and father got agitated when he saw that, thinking you were making fun of him. “Some don’t return from the dream hunt. Do you understand? The strongest sometimes don’t return from that. Your mind needs to be strong.”
“And mine isn’t?”
He gave a slow exhale through his nose, not actually wanting to say it for some reason. “No it isn’t.”
“Why?”
There it is. Your signature phrase. ‘Why?’
And it made your father look above, asking silently for patience from Eywa as it always did. 
“Ma’ite, why don’t we take a break, hm? Come walk with me,” your mom interrupted, taking your hand and standing next to you, your four fingers got enveloped in her larger, warmer grip, strong and insistent. 
“No, I wanna hear it. What do you think makes me not ready?”
You insinuating that your father was entirely going off his own wrong opinion and not knowing any better set him off. You saw the change from ticked off to borderline on edge, but instead of giving into it, he turned his back on you and went back to cleaning his gun, movements choppy and harsh. “That immaturity for a start.”
And you hissed at him—actually hissed at him when none of your siblings would ever dare to talk back to him during a lecture. 
The audible gasps, the holding of breaths, and the slow turn of your father’s head looking like he was going through confusion of reality upon being hit on the head had followed. His eyes narrowed and the lines of his eyebrows got gradually lower on his face, his form seemingly expanding in mass from building anger, spine slowly straightening after fully comprehending what you just did.
“I’m way past you giving me attitude missy,” his baritone and low voice was so steady that you’d rather him yell at you like usual, but he was scarily calm, pushing you to raise your chin righteously at him to show you weren’t bothered by him none, but your ears betrayed you by cowering flat and taut against your skull. “But you’re hissing at your father now? Hm? You think this right here is gonna get you the respect you think you deserve?”
“You don’t listen,” you said, ignoring your heart trashing away from how coldly father was to you.  “Disrespect,” your fingers quoting in the air resulted only in making him angrier. Neteyam to his right, silent and observant the whole argument, was furiously shaking his head that the beads in his braids were clicking loudly. “is the only way you ever pay attention to anything anymore. See? Look how sharp you are right now. Mission accomplished, I guess.” 
“Bro…” Lo’ak, frightened by the wide eyed glare father was giving you, weakly protested, but you knew he would never be able to interfere in the verbal struggle between you and father the way you did to his. 
“You will go to your room,” father said between his teeth, “Do not let me see your face. I swear to Eywa—Neytiri, get her outta here.“
“Do you ever want to see our faces anymore, father?” 
A beat. 
Mom gasped your name in shock, grabbing your arm this time as if she wanted to drag you away. 
All his fury froze away immediately. “What did you just say?” 
You just stared at him. 
“That’s enough,” your mother snapped at you, but you didn’t hold it against her, she was more worried about what would follow if this went on. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“Okay.” Father slowly shook his head, the storm brewing right under his skin got you preparing for the impact, and all the kids flinched when he threw the unloaded gun back in the crate. “You know so much, don’t you? You’re smart, wise. Know better than Tsahik herself. Fine, you get your way. Go.”
You froze. “What?”
“Yeah, go. Get yourself an ikran.”
“Father—”
“Don’t father me. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Since you’re so ready and you’ll say just about anything to get what you want, who am I to get in your way, huh?” 
But you didn’t want it to be like this. Iknimaya was supposed to be something exciting, prideful — a ceremony. He was saying it like you were being thrown out. Who was going to paint your face? Be proud of you? 
“Why are you just standing there?” He poked your crushed ego further, confident in the fact that you wouldn't set one foot outside of the cave systems at this hour of the day. “Didn’t you want this?”
You didn’t want this. 
“Dad, it’s the middle of the night,” Kiri said, appalled, not quite believing her ears. 
“What does it matter?” He showed you in mock pride, up and down that you couldn’t stop the tears from stinging the corners of your eyes. “Mighty hunter here is ready.”
“Jake,” your mother warned in such a threatening tone that he stopped and shifted on his feet, almost uneasy. 
“What? If she doesn’t want a father’s concern I’m not giving it to her.”
Like you weren’t standing right in front of him at all. 
“Jake!”
That was the final straw. You wrenched your arm free from mom’s iron grip and screamed, “I hate you!” at the top of your lungs at him before storming off the tent.
His ears flattening was the last thing you paid attention to as everything became a blur because of tears swelling. Yeah, right. You wished you could hurt him, unfortunately he was too much of a wall for that. You bet he was scoffing at your declaration right now.
Your body thought faster than your brain did even when the emotions had you drowning under the current, deciding you were going to sneak off to the ikran rookery tonight. You knew he would send Neteyam after you — him barking, “Follow your sister,” at the boy right after you hid yourself between the rocks surrounding the tent was the confirmation of the hypothesis. He was to make sure you didn’t leave High Camp. 
Everyone in your family knew your favorite hiding spot to cool off, Neteyam of course was heading there automatically, and it was the headstart you needed to get a move on. 
Fine. You would complete your iknimaya yourself without anybody’s support, as if these things had any value anymore with how military he’d conditioned the clan to be. You were going to make him eat his words for humiliating you.
The muffled of father drifting off flared up your determination as you soundlessly sneaked off. "Jesus, I've spoiled her too much..."
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hiraya-rawr · 2 years
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"hands off! I'm taken!" — diluc .
synopsis !! you pick up your drunk lover from the tavern
note !! I finally posted something! my schedule is still full but things should settle down more by september :> enjoy this fun fic!
contains !! gn reader, ft. kaeya and others! alcohol consumption, not proofread
Your lover rarely drinks. Scratch that, he doesn't drink at all if he could help it.
So whatever encouraged him to drink tonight of all nights was beyond you. It wasn't his shift in the bar, yet he insisted you shouldn't wait for him as he might come home late from the tavern. Apparently, he'll be meeting up with Kaeya, Jean, and a few others.
You're overjoyed, of course! It's not everyday your overworking lover decides to take a break and meet up with his old friends, much less those who are involved with the knights. You practically pushed him on his way to socialize and have fun.
Perhaps he had too much fun.
It was past midnight when you stopped by the tavern, seeing as you lived nearby anyway.
Diluc sat amongst a small crowd. You recognize them to be Kaeya, Jean, Lisa, Venti, and Rosaria, each nursing their own drink in their hands. What surprised you was that Diluc had a glass of his own— emptied, and that Kaeya was pouring him another round.
"Ah, it seems like your ticket home has arrived, D," Kaeya muses upon spotting you. The redhead only huffs in reply.
"What a joyous occasion! Come join us, (Name)!" Venti cheers, swinging around his large mug.
It's only when you approached the group did you notice your lover's unfocused eyes, glazed over as he blinks away at nothing.
"What did you do?" You raise an eyebrow, eyes narrowing suspiciously at Kaeya. The Cavalry Captain raises his hands in defense.
"You're accusing me? I'm hurt," He chuckles, "You and I both know he isn't so easy to trick into drinking."
You glance over at Jean, who gives you a sympathetic laugh, "It's true. Surprisingly, sir decided to drink tonight. It wasn't that much, I assure you."
"Wasn't that much, she says, yet he looks just about ready to pass out," Rosaria mutters, sipping on her own glass. You let out a sigh, seems like you'll be responsible for taking him home tonight. You're not bothered at all, in fact, you're a little glad he decided to let loose and have fun, no matter how unusual it seems.
If anything, it's a little funny to see him look gruff and cold, he doesn't even seem drunk until you notice the flush on his face and the spin in his eyes. Grabbing an empty glass and filling it with water from a pitcher, you gesture for the redhead to drink.
"Come on, 'Luc, drink some water and let's get you home."
He turns his head away to the side. You raise an eyebrow.
"'Luc, drink some water."
"No."
". . . You need to sober up–"
"No."
His head arcs further away from you, arms crossed. You glance at his face, is he. . . is he seriously pouting right now? Kaeya chuckles next to you. You aren't sure what kind of drunk shenanigan is going through his mind, but you decided to let it slide, opting to bring him home instead.
"Alright then, let's get out of here instead." With a hand on his shoulder, you gesture for him to stand but he wacks it away. Diluc? Your Diluc?? Wacked your hand away???
You blink at him before recovering to grab onto his arm, trying to pull him up, "Come on, 'Luc! We got to get you home!"
"No! Hands off!" He sluggishly pushes you, failing but he plops back onto his seat.
"What?"
"Hands off me! I'm taken!"
You freeze. The little group around you pauses as well. There's a loud snort in the air, presumably from Venti.
"Diluc, what?" You bite back your laugh. Laughing at the drunk is bad etiquette, you really shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't.
"I'm–" He slurs, facing you with a pointed look and a loopy glare, "Taken. Go find someone else to mooch."
Archons, help you not to burst out laughing in this situation.
Opting to giggle behind closed lips, you squat next to his chair, reaching out to cup his cheek but he scoots away from your touch.
"Diluc," You laugh, "It's me."
"Not- not interested."
"I'm literally your lover."
He blinks at you. You aren't sure if you got through him but he immediately stands upright, wobbling from the action. You catch him by the waist for support.
"Woah there, are you ready to go?"
"I'm going-" He tests his steps, "Going home to my darling, (Name)." With shaky hands, he pushes you aside, "I told you I have a lover!"
A loud laugh starts from behind you. Kaeya hunches over the table, gripping his stomach as the rest try to hide their chuckles behind their hands.
"Oh dear, my dear brother," The cryo user stands, wiping a tear from his eye, "Seems like you truly had too much tonight. This person here is assigned to take you to (Name)." The sly smile on Kaeya's face tells you to play along.
Diluc rubs at his eyes, everything seems to swirl, "Really?"
"Yes."
". . . Alright then."
Was he really that easy to trick? Your jaw could've dropped open. As expected of Kaeya who naturally dealt with all of Diluc's drunk shenanigans.
"Let's go then. . ." Diluc mumbles, glancing at you, "But no touching."
At his first step, he nearly trips over his feet if it wasn't for you grabbing onto his arm. You wrap it over your shoulder, pulling him upright.
"Surely, it's alright if I hold onto your arm?" You try to reason.
". . . Okay."
With a side glance at Kaeya and the rest, you nod them goodbye as they wave their pleasantries. Now that you're outside the tavern, you decide to take your drunk lover to your home nearby, a place he's frequently visited.
"Honestly, whatever made you drink so much tonight. . ." You huff, grabbing onto him and trying to get him to walk normally.
"My lover, you see. . ." He trails off.
"What about your lover?" You can't help but prod. Surely, you haven't done something wrong, right?
"Everything. . . Everything about them." Diluc mumbles, a sigh escaping him, "Just— amazing."
You can't help the way your lips sorts into a smile.
"Really?"
"Yes."
"That must be nice. Is that why you don't want to go home with me?" You can't help but tease as he glowers, turning his face to get a better look at you. You notice the way his eyes look clearer now.
". . . As mentioned, I–" A groan, "Am devoted to my lover, no matter how charming you look."
"Mhmm, sure, yeah." You laugh, taking in his compliment, "You're devoted, alright."
"It's true–" He pushes away from you to fumble with his coat in an enthusiasm that's only seen when he's drunk, "Would you like to see the ring?"
Ring? What ring? You freeze in your steps as he digs into his pockets, pulling out an enclosed little box with intricate carvings. He opens it to reveal a ring– one you've only ever dreams of having (and receiving from him). The details, a testament to how much he knows what you like, while mixing in his own interests.
Your heart skips a beat.
"'Luc–"
"Archons, I'm nervous," He groans into his hand, carefully closing the box despite his drunken mannerisms, "I can't even– can't even sleep at night thinking about it."
You're still in shock as you gaze up at him. Sure, you've talked about a future together, but it always felt so far away— Diluc was too busy, always with something else to prioritize and it didn't seem like the right time for him no matter how right it was for you.
"Is. . . Is that why you drank?"
He looks at you with a raised brow, "Nervousness is one thing. I needed everyone's advice as well." Your heart flutters, was he ever this thoughtful? The answer is yes. You reach out to him again, hands as shaky as his own, but yours shook in happiness.
"Diluc, I—"
He lurches, a heaving sound down his throat as if threatening to puke. You reach out, holding onto him again with a small laugh, "Alright, alright, let's get you home first, Luc."
He groans in reply, voice wobbly and weak, "I'm. . . taken. . . "
"I know, my love."
Sunshine filters into the bedroom and Diluc shuffles under the covers. His head was throbbing, his throat felt dry, he's reminded again why he never drinks.
Grape juice is definitely better. Grape juice is yummy. Why can't he make a grape juice relaxant? He sure as heck can, what's his money for if he can't fund an entire academic foundation focusing on the production of anxiety-calming juice?
Before he could even begin to think about the business prospects and expenses to spare, your footsteps catches his attention as you enter the room.
"Slept well?"
He brushes his hair back, sitting up groggily, "I've had better nights."
"Here, have some water." You gesture to the cup in your hands to which he drinks from obediently.
"Thank you."
"I'm just glad that you're allowing me to offer you water." You bite back a chuckle.
"What?"
Standing up with a hum and a shrug, you turn away from him, "I don't know. Last night, you wouldn't even let me touch you."
His eyebrows furrow together, "That's ridiculous. Why would I do that?"
"Apparently, you have a lover, and I was trying to tempt you away into my home~"
Diluc freezes like a deer in the headlights, heat rushing up his face, turning it a shade as red as his hair, "I. . . said that?"
You laugh, turning towards him as you begin to explain everything that happened in the tavern and how his friends reacted. This only helped to worsen his embarrassment.
"I'm going to kill Kaeya. . ." he mutters under his breath, hiding away his face before peeking at you, "And then I suppose you walked me home? Did I. . . say anything after?"
You spotted the way his eyes glance to his coat, hanging by the door. Your lips twitch into a smile.
"Nope. You were quiet the whole way home."
You can't wait to embarrass him even more after his proposal.
masterlist 02 || commissions via ko-fi
note !! writing this made me all the drunk embarrassing moments 😭
taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @stygianoir14
14K notes · View notes
xas24 · 8 months
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helloo, can you write one for pedri with a shy girlfriend? thank you 🙏🏽
don’t get all shy on me now ~ pedri
summary: a few instances where pedri completely loves how shy and quiet his girlfriend gets around him.
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“dios mío, estás tan guapa.” (my god, you look so gorgeous) pedri stated as he looked towards his girlfriend, who stood in front of her mirror checking her outfit. his eyes raked down the pretty, blue sundress she had on and y/n could see him practically drooling through the reflection in the full length mirror.
the blood instantly pooled on the surface of her cheeks, staining her bare skin a rosy tint. she blushed hard under his gaze and the small smile that tugged tightly at her lips caused a grin to form on her boyfriends’.
pedri got up from the bed, where he was mindlessly playing some game on her phone because he refused to download it on his own. it’s more fun on your phone, he’d normally say.
he was already dressed in his own outfit as they were both getting ready to meet up with his family at their house for dinner. y/n stared at his face as he made his way over, his beard still growing out as he couldn’t be bothered to shave it lately.
y/n would never admit to him how much she loved his beard and how handsome she found him with it. never. her words wouldn’t even be able to come out clearly with how shy she gets around him, how his presence just burns her whole body alive with warmth and the inability to stop blushing.
pedri reached her and his arms wrapped themselves around her waist. his bearded chin rested against her bare shoulder and the stubbly feeling of it tickled her skin, making her giggle slightly.
pedris head came to rest against hers as her hands held his arms, encasing her against his body.
“pedriii…” she slightly whined, goosebumps spiking up along her arms at the feel of his thumb rubbing circles on the sides of her hips.
“i don’t wanna leave anymore, let’s stay here.” he mumbled and left a small peck against her shoulder.
it seemed as though she didn’t even need makeup as her cheeks were already bright red. her voice was low as she spoke to him, “no, we need to leave in a few minutes, c’mon.” she stroked his arm.
pedri hummed and turned his head so that his lips were now resting against the side of her face, his mouth hovering over her warm cheek. he started pressing kisses to her flesh and the soft giggle that left her mouth didn’t go unnoticed by him as he smiled against her.
“god, i love that sound.” pedri mumbled and fuck, now her cheeks were hurting from smiling so much.
“pedri..” she breathily whispered. he looked at her reflection in the mirror and the smirk that formed on his rosy lips at the sight of her flustered expression had her knees instantly weak.
“don’t get all shy on me now, querida.”
y/n held eye contact with him in the mirror for approximately five seconds before those big brown eyes were cutting through her whole body and ripping her gaze away from his intense, teasing one.
she slapped his hand away, hating the way he always teased her vulnerability around him. however, the lopsided smile still clung to her lips as she sternly tried to tell him off for his last minute shenanigans . “stop it, come on. your parents are probably waiting.”
•••
pedris hand came to interlock with y/ns as the tv shone its bright light onto them from the front. the pair were seated in pedris living room on a random thursday night, deciding on watching a movie to spend their free time together.
it was still relatively early into their relationship, perhaps only 2-3 months and y/n didn’t deny how shy she still felt around him. every little thing he did for her, said to her, made her body shake with nerves and her cheeks fill with blush.
and this small gesture he just did, gently sliding his fingers between hers on her lap, had her screaming on the inside. his hands were so soft against hers, so warm and smooth. she wanted to move her thumb, to rub against his tender skin but would that be weird? she didn’t know, she hadn’t done all this before.
y/n practically froze on the spot and pedri felt her body stiffen beside his as he looked over at her. when he rubbed his thumb against her thumb, she exhaled the breath she was holding in and relaxed into her seat.
pedri watched the blush rise to her cheeks and her eyes flutter gently as she tenderly tightened her fingers around his hand, signalling to him it was okay and she was comfortable.
y/n turned to look at him to see him already tentatively looking at her, and pedri melted on the spot at the little shy look she gave him - her mouth pulled into a tight-lipped smile and her cheeks a bright colour of crimson.
he couldn’t wait to pull more of these pretty, shy smiles out of her.
•••
pedri walked into his girlfriends apartment with her favourite chocolates and a new book in hand. he knew she’d been wanting to read this book for quite a while and so, on his way back from training, he made a quick stop at a random bookstore to see if they had it.
they did, and he coupled it with a big box of her favourite chocolates just to see that extra wide smile on her face and twinkle in her eyes. to see that deep tint of blush on her soft, supple cheeks.
the sound of dishes clattering around in the kitchen could be heard when he walked in and so he made his way over with a mischievous smile lurking on his lips. y/n was stood at the stove infront of a pot of boiling water, with her phone in hand.
pedri, with the surprises clamped behind his back, snuck up on his girlfriend. he did a little jog towards her and pressed his lips to her cheek in a quick kiss.
y/n smiled. she knew he was back as she heard the door open. she recognised his footsteps against the flooring.
“oh, pedri you scared me.” she told him, a hint of sarcasm lacing her voice as her eyes stayed glued to her phone but the smile stayed on her lips.
“i was going for a more realistic reaction but that’ll do.” he laid another kiss to her cheek before leaning back up to his normal height, towering over her by a few inches.
y/n locked her phone and looked up at her boy. he was freshly showered, smelt like his usual handsomeness and she instantly noticed his two hands, that would usually be engulfing her body and wandering in random places at this time of day, were currently stuck behind his back.
“what’re you hiding?” she raised her brows.
“i have a little surprise. close your eyes.” he snickered and her look of curiosity turned to one of confusion. with a huff and without question, she closed her eyes and pedri revealed his two little presents with a grin on his face.
“vale, open.”
she gasped as her eyes instantly set onto the cover of that book that lay somewhere deep within her amazon cart, but she’d been wanting to read it for so long now. excitement rapidly settled into her stomach but her heart rate practically zoomed through her chest when she saw the box of her favourite chocolates in his hands.
the blush couldn’t stop itself from painting her flesh and she gaped up at him.
“pedri!” she reached for them and admired them whilst he admired her, satisfied with her reaction this time.
he watched as she placed them both down on the counter next to her and threw her arms around his taller frame. her lips instantly attacked his in a sudden kiss but he didn’t mind as he slotted his lips against hers and she kissed her gratitude into him. she laid quick pecks against his mouth and cheek before staring at him in extreme infatuation. she adored this man so fucking much.
“you didn’t have to.” he loved this heavenly expression on her features; her eyes sparkling, her cheeks flushed, her lips pulled into her usual shy smile.
“i wanted to.”
•••
“c’mon a big smile!” pedri practically cheered as he held the phone out in front of him. y/n stood infront of the floral pattern of the wall behind her as pedri insisted he take some pictures.
memories, he said. memories of how good you look right now.
y/n started blushing with the looks they were getting from some people walking past. some weird and some smiling. her hand came up to cover her face as the low laughter shook from her body at the sight of pedri so focused on the pictures yet so unfocused on the people around them.
pedri smiled to himself, staring at his beautiful girlfriend through the lens of the camera. the light was displaying itself in just the right angles and everything looked so perfect, even his camera skills may he add. however, it still did her beauty no justice, he had to admit.
he couldn’t wait to just sit in his bed later that evening to stare at these pictures - she just looked so ethereal right now.
the fondness that took over y/ns body presents itself on her face as she shyly smiled at the camera, tilting her head as pedri kept snapping some pictures. just when she thought that was enough and started walking back towards pedri, he shook his head and signalled her to step back so he could get a few more shots.
“pedri, i’m sure that’s enough for you to stare at.” she joked, as if she just knew he was falling even more in love with her right now.
“no it’s not, please, just a few more.” she pouted and practically pleaded with her eyes for them to stop because she couldn’t handle how out of her comfort zone this felt, infront of so many prying eyes.
but the desperate look on her boys face made her stand back and pose with a smile on her face for a few more seconds. pedri was then beckoning her over to look through them. she swiped through them with low giggles, knowing how seriously he was taking this, and it made her heart leap.
“so gorgeous.” pedri stared at her, loving the flustered look on her face at his compliment.
“you look amazing, amor. mi preciosa.” he tucked some of her hair back behind her ear.
in that moment, he made a mental note to take more picutes of her often just so he could see this sweet, shy look on her face again.
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Text
Moll
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❥ Choi San x fem reader
SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL
➯a/n: i've been watching waaaaay too much 1920s drama sooooooo (i went way overboard, i feel liek i wrote a movie)
✃ moll; a mobsters girl, circa 1920s
✫彡wordcount: 6.2k
(✯◡✯)(>ᴗ•)genre: 1920s mafia au, plot heavy smut
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of drugs, violence, threatening with a gun(safety was on lol), kidnapping, forced marriage, forced affection, stockholm syndrome, pregnancy, murder(not descriptive at all), NSFW; virginity loss, unprotected (NO DO THAT🫵🏻), possessiveness to the max, breeding kink
not proof read
✩ index: dope; drugs, specifically cocaine or heroin. bent; drunk. bump you off; murder. bearcat; a feisty woman. vamp; an aggressive flirt. flat-tire; a bore. punch the bag; talk. dame, doll, bunny, water-proof; a (attractive) woman. holding a torch; having a crush. get in a lather/ get lathered up; get worked up or angry. skin; condom. get a wiggle on; leave quickly.
⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
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"Where's the money?"
    "That's all of it! Please, Mister-"
  The echoing slap across the room makes you cringe from your hiding place in the pantry. It's nothing new. Your family had been mixed up in all kinds of shenanigans and you had witnessed a great deal of them. But it always hurts when they come back to haunt you.
      You cup your hand over your mouth to muffle your scared breath, trying desperately put your mind in a better place. Anywhere but here.
   "I gave you more than enough time. Don't you think?"
   "Nobodies buying, please Mr. Choi! You have to understand, I tried. I went from corner to corner to corner," your older brother pleads.
    He isn't lying either. The drugs that the mafia had provided him to sell- well, they weren't selling. No body had the money. If they did, they only bought the smallest amount and resold it at a higher price.
    It wasn't his fault the country was in a depression.
     "It- I still have the dope stored away! Just in the back shed, you can have it back! May-maybe someone up North can have better lu-ah!"
     A dull thud.
     And another.
    And another.
     A crash. Your brothers body hitting the floor no doubt.
     "You gon' tell me how to peddle my own product now? I don't think so! Are you bent? Huh?" His voice gets louder with each insult hurled at your brother. "You skim a little of the top, is that it? I oughta bump you off!"
     You can't help the small gasp that exits your shaking lips, and you immediately recognize your mistake as it goes silent in the home. Only your brothers ragged breathing and the thrumming of your anxious heart reaching your ears.
    "Mr. Ch-"
   "Shut your kisser! Who's here with us?"
   "N-Nobody! No! No, no, wait-"
    Light floods the small room you've sought safety in, and that false sense of security shatters the second you see the man attached to the threatening voice.
      He's a cop.
    He's got a badge and a gun and authority. He's supposed to be someone safe. Instead, he's got knuckles blooded with your kin and a smirk on his stubbled face.
     His wide shoulders block the light, casting his silhouette over you like a storm cloud.
     You've cowered into the corner, skirt pulled over your trembling knees as you scoot further away. Wide eyes looking up at him, silently pleading.
     "Why you hidin', vamp?"
      "Please, Mr.Choi, she don't know from nothing!"
     You glance past the man -Mr.Choi- 's neat slacks, and see your brothers face messed with blood, dripping onto the floor from his nose. He's pulling himself up slowly, kneeling on the hardwood.
    "Get up," Mr.Choi nods his head at you, and you immediately follow his order, afraid to test his nerves further. "Help this goof up." You lower your head, slowly approaching the man who stays in the doorway. "Now, we ain't got all day!"
    You rush past him and kneel, wrapping your arms under his and pulling him up with a grimace, "c'mon, Bub, get up."
     The man watches you heave him up, leaning against the wall with his hand on his hip holster in case you decide to get brave. "Bub's done got you mixed up in something real risky, girl. What do you know?"
    "Don't know nothin', Mister. Mind my own." You feign some semblance of calm. You lower your brother onto a chair, and he nearly falls onto the dinner table before you catch his head. "You had to knock him on the head?"
     He chuckles, slowly stalking around the room, "don't get mouthy, Bearcat." He takes a seat at the head of the table, pointing to the chair opposite of him. "Sit."
     You lower his dizzy head to rest on the table before taking the seat he pointed to, folding your hands in your lap and lowering your head. "I never touched your dope, I don't mess with that."
    He slowly places his gun on the table, fingers lingering over it. He studies you- eyes never leaving. "How much of the beans has he spilled to you?"
     "I don't know what you mean-"
     "Oh, sure."
    You look up, and you regret floods your veins. He's sizing you up. Face completely void of emotion. Shoulders slack and relaxed like he isn't ready to shoot you at a moments notice. "Punch the bag, now. Before I shoot off your Bubs knee cap." He cocks his gun.
     "Okay! Okay, listen-" you gulp, looking back down, "all he's ever told me is that he gets some products and sells them, gives you the money and you give him a cut. That's it! That's all I know, really. Don't know where you get it or nothin'. I can keep my trap shut."
     "You don't go to the corners with him?"
      "Nev-"
     "If I show your face at the station, nobody gonna recognize you?"
    "No," you look up again, "everyone knows I'm a good girl, Officer."
     He lets out an amused chuckle, rubbing his brow. "You tugging my leg?"
     "No. I'm not a drug peddler. I'm a secretary. I volunteer at the soup kitchen. I babysit-"
     Your anxious babbling to get yourself out of your brothers trouble is interrupted when Mr.Choi, suddenly behind you, grips the back of your neck and pushes your head to the table. Your eyes meet your brothers drowsy ones, tears quickly filling up in both. "Please, she's tellin' the truth! I ain't even tell her I was selling till you called last minute! She's innocent!"
      "I don't like liars!" He shouts, making you jump under his harsh grip, "I asked you if we were alone the moment I walked in this dump! You're a little sneak, aye? How do I know you didn't hide her to gather intel on me? Get me fired and kicked out? Get yourself a little raise? How do I know she's even your sister? She could be a snake! Tell me the truth, now!"
     The cool metal of his gun touches your temple, and the sobs you've been holding back fall out of your lips loudly. "Bub, tell him!"
     "Tell me, Bub!" He mocks you, pressing the barrel deeper into the back of your head.
     "That's the truth! I sell your dope by myself and she doesn't know nothing about it! Please, she's all I have!" He's growing more and more frantic, head heavy as he lifts it to look Mr.Choi in the eyes, "I'll find a way! I'll go up North myself, I-I'll take a dimebox to Iafeild o-or," he himself is crying now, watching helplessly as he tugs you out of your chair. "Please, she's all I have!"
      He pushes you to the floor and watches you scramble, kicking your knees out from under you, albeit gently, it makes you fall face first. He lowers himself in a squat, watching you with a certain amusement you curl up on yourself. "Well why didn't you just say so!" He clips his gun back on his hip and smirks as you both let out a sigh of relief.
Mr.Choi doesn't leave just yet, however.
He straddles your back and flips you over, gripping your chin as it trembles. Pulls your face close to his and inspects you. Your tears wet his fingers. "Hmm, can't blame me for being suspicious. She's water-proof and you," he looks over at the table and chuckles, "well you're just a dog."
He stands and extends his hand for you, rolling his eyes as you ignore it. "Get up, Doll." He groans, pulling you to your feet, "go pack a bag."
"W-"
"She's not goin' with you," your brothers brief bravery is shut down the second the copper reaches for his gun again, "I- I mean why?"
"You," Mr.Choi points to him, "are gonna go to Iafeild and sell all of the shit I gave you like you should have done two months ago. And she," he wraps his arm around your shoulders with a cocky grin, "is gonna be your encouragement to get me my money. If you aren't back with all of it in... three weeks, say? Little sis' here is gonna take the big sleep." He ignores you as you cry harder, simply glaring at your brother. "Capiche?"
He nods frantically, looking away as you look to him with pleading eyes. There's nothing he can do. This is bigger than him. He's got messed up with the wrong crowds and now you have to pay the price as well.
     "Put a pep in your step, clock starts tonight."
He opens the car door, watching silently as you peek your head out before your body follows.
You clutch your bag close to your chest, still sniffling and sobbing quietly. Your kitten heels click on the cement, messed curls blowing with the October winds.
"Follow me," he guides you by the small of your back, shockingly gentle with your shaking form. "Don't pull any tricks, Doll." He leads you up the stairs of the secluded farm house, opening up the screen door and ushering you in.
      "San, Finally!" A voice booms from inside the home, making you squeak. When you turn to go back out the door, you collide with Mr.Choi, who you gather must be San, 's chest. "Was starting to think- oh! Who's the dame?"
    "This," he turns you by your shoulders and tilts your head up to face the man who's descending the stairs, "is Mr. (L/n)'s sister. She's staying for a bit while her brother sorts out some business upstate." You can almost feel his smirk in the way he speaks.
      The other man, who's finally come face to face with you, seems a great deal less threatening than San.
"Tsk," he rolls his eyes at San, "sure thing, fella. You just went and found yourself a Moll."
"A Moll? Sure, she's cute but she seems a bit flat-tire, no? Not exactly the type of woman I go for."
"She's exactly the type you go for, you're trying to get her in the bag! Lost bunny is your type."
"Oh, take a hike, Hwa!"
You go back and forth looking at them in confusion as they bicker, hugging your bag to your chest tightly. You don't know what a 'Moll' is but you do know you don't want to be Mr. Chois. You simply tune them out and stare at the floor blanky, tears still flowing.
        "If you're not holding a torch, why didn't you kill him like we planned?"
    "Well-" His words die on his tongue as he looks over at you. You do look like a lost bunny. Making yourself small between them and letting your tears flow as a defense mechanism. He won't admit it, especially aloud. But you are exactly the woman he's been looking for. "Oh, hell," he pulls a blue handkerchief from his pocket and shoves it into your hand, "stop crying so much. Not gonna hurt you."
      Very hard to believe after his threats, but you try your hardest to stop the onslaught of warm tears. You wipe your face with the fabric and sniffle quietly, coming back to your own body as Seonghwa extends his hand slowly.
      "I'm Seonghwa, 'can call me Hwa if you like. I'll be lookin' after you when San here is busy. Let's get along well."
     You shake his hand gently and croak out a simple, "(Y/n)."
The rest of the day passed quickly, locked up in a bedroom while San and Hwa could still be heard downstairs, which only served to add to your anxieties. It felt as if at any second they would change their mind and come up to bump you off.
You busied yourself doing what San told you to before he locked the door behind him. 'Unpack and get cozy.' Though that latter wasn't as easy as hanging your few dresses in the oak closet and putting your hairbrush in the nightstand, awkwardly placing your products in the corner of the attached bathroom. Especially after you pieced things together.
There was an array of suits and slacks hanging in the closet. Shiny loafers on the floor. A clip of bullets in the nightstand. A roll of condoms. A stash of cash in a duffle bag on the hook behind the door. A pack of cigarettes and matches on the window sill. A bottle of cologne that smelled suspiciously like Mr. Chois car.
This was Sans room they had locked you in.
You had long took a seat on the windowsill and dangled your legs out of it, debating how badly it would hurt if you decided to fall and try to make a run for it. You came to the conclusion that it was useless. It took fourty minutes to get here from the city. The last home you passed being 20 of those away.
The lock on the door clinked loudly, and it opened slowly. You turned and looked over your shoulder, and it wasn't a surprise that San was the one you faced.
"Hungry, Doll?" He shuts the door with his foot as he carefully enters with a plate in hand. He doesn't seem alarmed by your hazardous seating choice, probably because he doesn't take you for a fool that will break their ankles trying to jump from the third story.
"No," you mutter, turning back around and facing the setting sun without another word or pleasantry his way.
"Don't let it get cold, I reheated it just for you."
"Too bad. Not hungry."
He comes behind you and rests his palms on either side of your hips, chest pressing to your back as he looks out at natures expanse. "Pretty, ain't it?"
When he doesn't get anything resembling a response, he tries again. "It's my own property. Worked in that barn everyday until I became a cop."
He's met with silence. "Plan to share it with my wife one day."
Nothing. "I know you think I'm a monster but I am just a man."
"A man who had a gun to my head..."
"A man who's just trying to survive a war and a pandemic. You'll get that one day. I don't mean no harm until harm comes for me."
A silence washes over you both for a moment.
"Will you shoot me if my brother doesn't sell all your dope?"
"No."
And again. His soft breath, your anxious ones.
"Then why am I here?"
It's his turn to be silent. He backs away from you and sits on the bed, watching you as you sit still like a statue. You watch the sun disappear like a motion picture of art. A certain peace overcoming you for the briefest moment.
"Because you will be that wife that I share with."
And peace shattered by Choi San once again.
You head snaps in his direction, falling back into the house from the windowsill with a thud. You both stare at one another. San stares with an unreadable expression. Yours of pure horror and confusion. "What?!"
"I'll drop business with your brother for good. Clear all his debt with the boys. Give him all of the cash he gets from this last... adventure. He'll be well off and so will you. I'll make a good, honest woman of you."
"Y-" Yours brain is officially thrown into a panic, an overdrive of emotions, and it all tumbles out before you can stop it. "You have to be off your rocker! You're insane! I already am a good, honest woman! Go chase yourself, I'm not marrying you- you- what? No! No!"
"You 'aven't got much choice in the matter, Doll. Don't get yourself in a lather."
"Don't get- oh, I am lathered up, Mr.Choi! I oughta smack some sense into you, demanding a girls hand in marriage like it's still 1890! It's nineteen-twen-"
He smacks the sense into you before you can to him.
"Oh God," you sob, holding your stinging cheek as tears build up in your waterline. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," you lower your head. Thinking, surely, you just dug your own grave. "Please-"
"This is exactly why I chose you," he crouches in-front of your crumpled form and tilts your head up, "a dame who appears like a lost bunny but has the soul of a beast."
You simply stare up at him, deathly afraid to move or speak in fear of letting your anger and sadness slip again.
"Got somethin' to say?"
You gulp before nodding your head in his hold.
"Go on."
"I don't w-want to marry a mobster... I don't want to be involved with dirty money! A corrupt copper..."
He chuckles softly, rubbing his thumb over your untainted cheek. "You should be thanking me, Doll... That dirty money? Been putting a roof over your head for three years. Corrupt copper? Well, he even had the decency to have the safety on his gun while pointing it at your pretty head. Mobster? Willing to put a ring on your finger and give you a nice home."
The tears start free falling as your situation fully sinks in. There really is no way out. You'll end up in the ground if you don't let him put a ring on it.
"So, I'll say it again," he grips the back of your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, "you should be thankin' me."
"T-thank you."
"Attagirl," he lets go of you completely, letting you fall back to the floor, "now eat."
He let you be that night, and you didn't see him the next morning either. It was Seonghwa who came to the door, and you didn't know if you should feel relieved or not.
"Hey, Miss," He spoke softly, staying just outside of the doorway. "I heard what happened... I'm sorry."
He seemed genuine enough. You sat down your hairbrush and turned on the small stool. Your eyes puffy and red from the lifetimes worth of crying you did last night.
"Uhm, so San wants us to go to town and pick out some fabrics for your weddin' gown. If you aren't up for it, I can pick them out myself."
"Will he be going with us?"
"No, just you and I."
You were sick and tired of smelling San every time you tried to take a deep breath, and that's how you ended up here.
It's less overwhelming than being in that farmhouse that seems to be your prison for now and for forever to come. But overwhelming nonetheless.
Hwa is talkative. But you don't mind. He treats you well. Like an equal. He doesn't talk down to you like many men do. And that, you very much appreciate.
He tells you of how he feels it's unfair you have no saying in your future, his heart is heavy with sadness that he cannot help you. And he tells that to your face. He will not help you. He is loyal to San. But that doesn't mean you can't be friends.
You seem to share life stories with one another the entire car ride there. And then he already feels like an old friend as he holds up fabrics to your skin to see which compliments you best. You, admittedly, aren't as into it as he is. As much as a bride should be. But then, how could you when you were picking things out for the day that would solidify your future with a mobster?
You both settle on one that, you will admit, made your heart flutter when you imagined yourself in. And then you're on your way, but Seonghwa stops the vehicle halfway through town.
"What are we doing?" You look out of the window and your heart stops in your chest as you see that he's parked infront of the police station. "No, Hwa! You promised I wouldn't have to see him."
"I'm sorry, Miss (Y/n)... he said he wanted to see what you picked afterwards. It will be quick."
You take a few deep breaths without San's cologne smothering you, then you swing the door open and follow after Hwa.
Sans broad shoulders aren't hard to pinpoint in the semi-packed station. "Ah, my beautiful fiancée!" He perks up immediately as he spots you and his friend.
What he does next absolutely floors you.
He cups both of your cheeks, and kisses you deeply. Right out in the open. Hot lips on yours.
You grip his wrists, face flushed with heat as he pulls away, bending down slightly to rest his forehead on yours. "Did you pick a pretty fabric for our special day?"
The look in his eyes seems almost innocent from far away. He's already got everyone in the room convinced that you're a willing participant of this relationship. But you, up close and personal, can see the glint of silent threats in his eyes- telling you to keep up the act or face the consequences.
"Uhm, uh-huh," you move slight to the side and look to Hwa, who's head is down slightly for a spilt second before he smiles at you and San and holds out the roll of fabric.
"Oh, Doll, what a good choice! No doubt you will look jaw-dropping," he runs his fingers over the fabric, imaging the pure beauty that you will be. "You'll make it extra good, right, Hwa? Only the best for my girl."
" 'Course, San. We're gonna work on some sketches when we get home." His smile is genuine, like he looks forward to it.
"Officer Choi! Hate to interrupt but we got a hold-em-up at the bank," another officer passes in a hurry, stopping briefly to congratulate you both.
"Ah," he clicks his tongue, rubbing his hands on your side gently, "wish me luck?"
"Good luck..." He looks like he's waiting for more. You gulp and force a smile, almost gagging on the words you conjure up, "good luck, Baby."
    The days after that first one passed almost like groundhog day. You awoke with San nearly laid ontop of you. Bathed and made breakfast. Worked with Hwa on your gown until it was completed. Walked around the farm and conversed with the farm-hand. Cooked and had a semi-awkward dinner with the three of them. Talked and became closer with San, slowly becoming happier with your situation.
   And then all too suddenly...
It's two days short of three weeks since you've been 'brought home', as San likes to say. Which means one very big thing.
      You are to be married. 
   It's a small affair, but beautiful nonetheless.
    You can quickly tell that only one side of San's life is invited. There is not a badge to be seen as you peer out of the window, only gangster after gangster taking their seat.
    Hwa finishes buttoning up your gown and steps back, smiling at you like a proud family member. "Ready, Miss?"
     "Ready as I'll ever be."
      Hwa walks you down the aisle.
     And then it's a blur.
    How did your get back in your bedroom? Was the ceremony already over?
It seems to have happened in a flash.
You stand infront of the window again. All of the guests have either left or have taken up in one of the many guest rooms in the home. San no doubt offered them up so that he could have witness to what was about to happen.
Your wedding night. Oh, how special and magical a day.
San slides his hands up your back, landing on your tall collar and skillfully unbuttoning it. Slowly, almost teasingly. His words send a shiver down your spine, they set your hairs on edge: "you are so beautiful, my Dear... it took everything in me not to take you right there in the aisle. I've never wanted anyone, or anything, as badly as I want you."
     Your breath hitches in your throat as his soft lips come in contact with your now exposed neck. It not the first time he's left adoring kisses on your body. But somehow it feels different as husband and wife. "San..."
    "Yes, Doll?"
    "I... I'm a virgin."
   "I know, Doll. Tell me to stop and I shall, but... I want to make you feel good like only a husband can. I want to show you my love in physical form." His hands slide into the now open back of your dress, around to your breasts. "Only I can touch you. Only you can touch me. Do you understand that?"
    A breathless 'yes' trembles out of your lips as he cups your bosom. The little moan that follows has his hard member throbbing, so ready to finally claim you. He presses it to the round of your ass, and you have to hold back a gasp, simply letting your mouth gape as you look out at the dark night sky. But when his calloused finger tips roll over your hardened nipples, you can't bite back the curse of pleasure that bubbles in your throat.
"Oh, you poor bunny," he whispers in your ear, "you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." The warmth of him slowly dissipates, and the tell-tale sound of the stool in the room dragging on the floor makes you turn around. "Drop your gown, let me see my wife in her full glory."
Heat burns on your cheeks, of embarrassment or arousal you can't quite tell at the moment. He's shed his fanciest uniform jacket and is now working on his button up, his cock straining against his slacks.
"You ever seen a man's prick?" He smirks as he catches you staring. Your eyes don't leave his lap as you take off your white kitten heels. That is, until he calls you out.
"No," your eyes drop to the ground as you neatly arrange your shoes, "never..."
"Mine will be the first? Mm, first and only," he half hazardly tosses his shirt, leaving his chest bare. Scars and toned muscle on full display for you. "Catch up, Dollface."
You step out of your gown carefully, holding it to your chest to hide yourself. "What if I'm not... pretty enough?"
"Oh, my wife can't possibly disappoint. I've seen that silhouette while you shower." He tilts his head and smiles, a soft smile. "You'll be my first as well."
     You swear your eyes have bugged out of your head the way he chuckles at your expression. "Really?"
     He stands, gently unraveling your fingers tight grip on the white fabrics. "Really, and I don't want to wait any longer. I want it to be with you. It will be with you." You let him take the fabric, and he drapes it on the stool carefully without ever taking his eyes off of you.
    "W-what about the skins in our drawer?"
   "So I don't make a mess while I fuck myself thinking about all of the dirty things I want to do with my wife."
    "Oh-" You swear you're running a fever. You've never felt this way before- but then, you imagine you'll be feeling many firsts tonight.
     "Would you like to hear about them?" He grins, his signature shit-eating-grin, as he guides your hands to his belt. You fiddle with it with a small nod, slowly pulling it off of him as he speaks. "I've got you laid down on our bed, legs spread..." You unbutton his slacks. "Touching, exploring what's mine." His zipper is undone next. "I take my time, make you nice and wet." His bottoms are gone. "I hold your hands." His boxers go after them. "And then I fuck you on my cock." 
    And he did exactly that. That's how you got here.
     Hours of teasing later, his member is finally buried inside of you, stretching you like your fingers never could. He interlocks his fingers with yours as his hips withdrawn. Squeezes your hands tightly as he slowly sinks back in.
      "Oh God," you whisper, heels digging into the mattress as you arch beneath his built frame, "ah, Sannie."
    His hips stutter, mind overheating as the nickname reaches him. You feel... oh, you feel amazing. Like heaven on Earth. Your gummy, warm walls suck him in, so wet and inviting. He wants to bury himself in your cunt and never leave. "Fuck, Bunny, you feel fucking godly."
      Only a moan is his response, your head tossed to the side in embarrassment. "D-don't stop," you pant, squeezing his hands tighter as you gather the courage to- "please go faster." Oh, nevermind. Your mind has left and only your pussy's logic remains. And it's logic is- "Sannie, faster!"
   His thick, veiny shaft feels otherworldly as it drags against you. You need more. And he is happy to oblige. He quickens his pace, keeping his strokes languid and tender so as not to hurt you. But by God, he goes faster.
     "Ah! Ah, my God!" You cry into the night, uncaring as your pleasure echoes in the houses thin walls.
     Your noises, your facial expressions, your divine warmth around him. San feels that familiar coil tighten quickly, winding up. "Fuck, (Y/n), I'm gonna bust," he bites his lip, a loud moan vibrating his chest.
"C-close, I'm close, Sannie," you squeeze his fingers in yours, looking up beggingly, "please don't stop, ah- ah! Just like that! Nngh!" Your eyes roll back into your head, cunt clenching down on him like a vice, a gush of heat tells him you've just came around him, so he no longer holds back.
He hooks one of his legs around yours and pushes himself deeper than before, making you yell out in overstimulated ecstasy. And that primal yelp as he buries himself as deep as possible sends him over the edge, coil in his gut not only snapping- but burning to ash as he fills your womb with his release. "Fuck, fuck," he whines, rutting into you unable to move as your core clenches more than ever, refusing to let him go. "Mine," he growls out, leaning down and colliding his lips with yours passionately.
  
     Your body goes limp beneath him, your soft breaths fanning against his sweaty face as he pulls away from the kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist tightly and your jelly like arms wrap around his broad shoulders. "Mine, all fuckin' mine," he lowers his weight onto you slowly, and it makes his hard cock feel heavier than before. He ignores your whiny moans, resting his head on your chest. "My wife, filled with my seed. Mine, mine, mine," with each of his possessive proclamations comes a thrust of his hips. "Say it, say you're mine."
      "I'm yours," you whimper under his weight, blissed out beyond belief and in shock that -despite having filled you less than five minutes ago- he is already rock hard again and thrusting into you, slowly building his speed back up.
     "Louder," he demands, head pressed firmly to your chest and listening intently to your drumming heart beat.
    "I'm yours," you speak more confidently.
    "Louder," his pace has passed where you reached before, he's nearly drilling you with his cock.
    "Ah! Fuck!" You screech, nails digging into his skin, legs wrapping around his wildly thrusting hips instinctively.
    "Say it," his voice rumbles on your chest, sending vibrations through you as his thrust shake the bed, "fucking say it, tell everyone who you belong to."
     "I'm yours, San! Oh! San! Sannie! Baby!" Your brain has shut down, you're putty in his arms, babbling loudly. "Cumming!" You can't help but announce it to the farm, your pleasure has set you ablaze and everything is pointless besides San.
    He follows shortly after, his second release flooding your stretched walls and pushing his first out, making a mess of your sheets and pelvises.
     When he doesn't show any sign of slowing, you slap his shoulders repeatedly and let out a loud whine. He stills deep inside of you and pants into your chest, cock still throbbing inside of you.
    He's become insatiable.
     "Break, please," you slur, hands finding purchase in his disheveled hair. He melts into the drunken affection, eyes peering up at you with love and adoration... obsession in the comfort of your own home.
     He slowly pulls out of you, watching in awe as the pearly white of his love seeps out of you. He rubs your thighs in a soothing manner, taking a moment to catch his own breath.
     "D...do you feel good?" He looks up, almost like a lost puppy. You've never seen him so vulnerable.
      "God, yes," you smile at him dopily, propping yourself up on your elbows with a groan. He sits back, immediately locking his arms around you and pulling you into his lap. His scent blankets you, and you welcome it. Taking a deep breath.
     His member is messy with a mix of your juices, resting against your lower belly like it knows that's where it belongs. Showing you both how deep he reaches.
     The sight alone lights the fire in you again, now just as insatiable as he is.
     "I love you." The words that slip past your swollen lips shock the both of you, eyes meeting in an instant.
     The crickets outside chirp their song, stars and moon casting light through the window. A shooting star flies by.
    "I love you."
    There's a knock at the door. Strange. Anyone who needs in can get in. You trot down the stairs and stop halfway as your eyes meet your brothers through the screen door. "Bub?" You nearly trip over your feet as you jump down the rest of the steps, slinging the door open and wrapping your arms around him tightly. It been long past those three weeks San have him. Almost a year past.
     "Bub! Bubby!" He spins you around in his arms, nearly falling off of the porch.
     "Oh, thank God! You're alive!" Both of you have wide smiles, blissfully unaware as San turns the corner in his farming overalls. "Let's get a wiggle on, before Mr.Choi knows I'm here." San stops in his tracks, eyes trained on you.
     "Oh... Bub."
    "Let's get, c'mon." He goes to drag you by your arm to the awaiting car.
    "Stop! I'm not going with you."
    A smirk grows on Sans as a frown grows on your brothers. "N-not going? Don't be silly!"
    "Let go of me," you slap his hand away and when your hand falls back to your side, that's when he sees it.
    Your belly. Swollen with child.
     "(Y/n)..."
      You wrap your hands around your stomach protectively as his concerned look turns to a glare. "D-did he rape you? Dear Lord," his hand flies to his mouth in shock.
      "What!? No, no, nothing of the sort. San and-"
     "Hurry, before he gets back."
      "Before who gets back?" San grins wide as he joins your side, wrapping his arm around you and purposefully showing off the ring on his finger. "Long time, no see... Bub."
      His face so that of a ghost, backing away until he hits Hwa, who forces him to kneel.
      "You really left your poor helpless sister for dead?" The words that San speaks knocks the reality back into you. He did leave you. You'd been so happy with your new life that you'd forgotten entirely about what lead up to it. "I doubt you've even got my cash, huh?"
     "Mister, please! Surely you've forgiven me?"
    "I don't hold grudges... my wife is a different story, however." He turns to you with an innocent smile. "Honey?"
"Sissy... Tell me you didn't."
"I did." You dead pan. "You left me!" You land a slap harshly across his cheek. "Bastard!"
"Alright, Miss, don't put too much stress on the baby-" Hwa tries to calm you, but you've already gone off the deep end after being reminded of your life before San.
"I hate you!! You left me all alone! You threw me to the wolves! Where were you?!"
"Sis, just- just come home, you aren't thinking straight."
The cicada chirp loudly, nearly drowning out your next words.
"This is home. This is all I have. This is all I want."
"Sis, what has he-" Tears are welling up in your brothers eyes. And it pisses you off.
"I hate you! I never want to see you again, I hate your coward guts!"
San squeezes your shoulder gently and it brings you back to reality. Your brother is shaking as all of the realizations come crashing down on him. Hwa knows what's about to happen, he and San have talked about it a million times. He takes the gun from his belt and hands it over.
"My Moll has spoken."
Bang.
901 notes · View notes
matrixbearer2024 · 4 months
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Hey I have an idea for "Get Off My Screen" what if Y/N starts talking to Vox less and less and he is so confused so he goes through her phone to try and figure it out and sees her Instagram announcing a new bf and Vox is soooo jealous but she basically ignores his protests and so life goes on as normal for them both until one day he gets nosy and checks her texts on her phone with her bf and finds nudes from her and then he gets annoyed and lectures her about it which leads to her getting angry and ignoring him but then a few weeks later he checks Y/N and the bf's chats again and sees him threatening her
On a completely unrelated note I luv this series and also definitely need a Vox of my own in my phone cause I can't write or spell for shit lol
You Could Do Better(With Me)
Protective!Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
WARNINGS: Mentions of Alcohol, Nudes, Blackmail, Manipulation
A/N: Okay this was actually pretty angsty, more on Vox's side because he's just dealing with a lot of emotional whiplash- most of which he doesn't really deal with well but he powers through it to be there for you. At this point in time he's kind of certain he likes you, but not that he loves you. Kind of like the: "Oh I'm really fond of this person, I want to make sure they're safe and happy." Without realizing the romantic implications nor how deep the level of attachment really is. So far, Reader's only kind of had a puppy-love crush on Vox but has blatantly disregarded it because well- Vox is fucking dead so what the hell are you supposed to do?? That and Vox constantly gets on Reader's nerves with his shenanigans so even if she gets the Cupid valentines filter when he cranks up the charisma- his stupid hijinks quickly do away with it and make him seem idiotic(cutely) again. The story also has a lot of emotional stuff so if you'd rather stick to the comedy feel free to skip this interlude and the one directly after it.
A/N: Either way, that's currently the pace these two are at- and this is a songfic! If you want to listen to the tune while reading- here it is! "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. The story itself is slightly different from the prompt since I made it centered around how Vox perceived things were going. As always, I hope y'all have fun and enjoy! Happy Reading!
youtube
Vox wanted to pretend everything was okay.
Walking through the halls of the Vee tower, he really wanted to play it off like nothing was bothering him.
And still, he found himself checking his phone for any updates or messages from you.
Day by day you were starting to slowly disappear from his routine.
He didn't notice it at first, how you were pulling away-
It was just the little things initially.
One word replies, emoji spam-
Vox figured you just weren't in the mood to listen or talk.
Did he do something that hurt you?
Up until the point that you both didn't really have any meaningful conversations anymore.
Which, as much as he tried to start anything proper-
It would always fall flat.
Were you still even trying?
He woke up one morning and followed his routine, shooting you a greeting before he started the day.
It just so happened that once he was finally able to check his phone to shoot you a wish goodnight-
You hadn't even replied to his morning message.
He was busy throughout the day, so he wasn't given the opportunity to worry about you.
But now, worry he did.
Vox quickly made his way towards his monitor room despite how late it was.
He went through your files, your pictures-
Wait.
Wait a goddamn minute.
Who the fuck was that?
He glitched slightly when he saw how that guy grinned in the picture.
It reminded him of his own, just so fucking fake.
Not to mention the air the person had around them.
They just exuded a great sense of showmanship and arrogance.
One Vox was all too familiar with.
That wasn't even the first picture you had with that person recently.
And the more the overlord looked, the more worked up he got.
He wasn't sure if it was anger, envy, irritation, or just a mix of everything under the sun.
Holding your waist, hugging you close, in some pictures your faces were so close together that you were almost kissing.
He was glitching in his chair from the emotional overload.
Who did this guy think he was to be able to treat you like that?!
Vox definitely punched a few screens from fury and jealousy.
Come the next day when he confronted you about it-
More like became a clear pain in the ass that you really couldn't ignore-
Making your computer practically unusable even-
Was when you revealed to him that you didn't mean to hide something like this.
You just simply forgot to say anything.
Vox didn't know if that was worse than if you tried to deceive him.
"Geez, so you have a boyfriend now?"
"Oh come on, you act like I'm not allowed to date. I'm a responsible adult Vox, not a kid."
The tech overlord only stared at the screen.
Was that really all you saw him as?
A digital guardian?
Just... someone who treated you like a kid?
He scoffed, he could count more times where he was the childish one.
That was stupid.
Besides that, he had more pressing matters to deal with.
What was this... horrible sinking feeling that was running through his systems?
It was like a weight that made him struggle breathing.
"Vox?"
"I'm still here. Can't believe you would forget to tell me something as important as this."
His claws dug into his armrests, he should've been happy you found yourself a partner.
If that partner just didn't remind him so much of himself.
"I'm sorry okay? I was really busy the last few days."
"The last few days? How long have you even been talking to this guy dollface?"
"Months? Probably? I've known him for a while now, he was the school crush when I was back in high school."
Vox wanted to convince you that this guy was bad news.
A walking red flag if you will.
He... should know.
Vox was at least aware of himself that much.
Still, he swallowed it all back and just replied to you again.
"I don't mind the fact you're off the market, hell- congratulations even! Just don't get into any sketchy shit. You know, anything that could be used against you as blackmail."
"Yeah yeah, I know what I'm doing Vox. Seriously, don't worry about it!"
You simply brushed off his worry, typical.
That just made the suffocating feeling even worse.
He didn't even know where it came from, or why.
"Oh yeah! I've got a boyfriend now!"
Those words replayed in his head like a bullet to the skull.
The day hadn't even started.
And Vox already wished it was over.
This just continued for a while, your presence in his schedule became negligible and Vox was falling back into his old vices.
He became snappy, irritable, just downright intolerable to be around.
The employees were feeling it, the Vees were collateral-
Not even Valentino could placate Vox's current horrid state.
It's been a week.
Vox stopped bothering to message you in the morning.
But he didn't stop checking if you would message him even once or twice.
It was pathetic.
And another.
Vox broke more than a dozen phones from just throwing them around.
He drank himself to sleep every night.
Valentino and Velvette were getting tired of having to dump his wasted ass on his bed every time.
And another.
Vox holed himself up in his monitor room whenever he wasn't needed.
No one could get him to come out.
Not even for food or water.
If he needed anything he would get it himself.
It was a long day of broadcasts and meetings, another monotonous cycle in his fast-paced life.
Vox intended to just drink until he passed out again, but he somehow found himself drunkenly stumbling through the halls of the Vee Tower into his monitor room.
He honestly didn't even know what he was doing this time.
The overlord fought to keep his own head up as he collapsed in his chair.
He glanced over to the side your computer's screen was connected to and let out a shaky sigh.
God, he fucking missed you.
Against his better judgement, Vox connected himself to your devices again.
He went straight to your playlist and just pressed start.
Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor~
Vox spun around in his chair, letting the music ebb and flow into his brain.
He took another swig from the bottle of alcohol in his other hand, squinting at the screens.
Everything was just kind of fuzzy.
Reaching for the phone cause, I can't fight it anymore...
It took him by surprise when one of the screens showed your living room.
Had you connected him to your TV again?
"Vox...? Are you there?"
And I wonder if I've ever crossed your mind?
He was too out of it to properly say anything, Vox couldn't recall if the words that stumbled out of him were even coherent.
"Dude... you look like shit."
Listening to your voice gave him a slight moment of sobriety.
"Likewise dollface."
For me it happens all the time...
"Are you wasted??"
"Erm, not really. Just buzzed."
He was able to take a good look at you then, your eyes were red and puffy like you'd just been crying.
It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now...
"What the hell happened to you?"
"Uh... well... you know that guy I was dating?"
Vox took a swig of alcohol before he replied, there was no way he was making it through his conversation unless he was drunk out of his circuits.
"My personality copycat? Yeah, what about?"
Said I wouldn't call, but I've lost all control-
"Your personality- what??"
"Dollface, do you seriously think I wouldn't notice how much of a walking red flag that asshole was?"
You paused as he took another swig of his drink, Vox didn't miss that look of guilt and pity in your eyes.
"But you just called him your copy."
"And? I know I'm a piece of shit. Takes one to know one."
And I need you now...
"Whatever, I don't think you'd stoop as low as he did."
"That's for me to judge, what did the bastard do?"
He saw the slight tremble in your posture, your voice cracked as if you were holding back sobs.
And I don't know how I can do without-
"I- I knew I should've listened to you. I sent him compromising pictures and he... he-"
"You sent him nudes and he used them to blackmail you didn't he?"
You flopped back down on the couch and his unfocused eyes met your watery ones.
So that's why you'd been crying.
I just need you now...
"It doesn't feel good to have your trust broken by someone you gave your heart to I'd reckon."
You scoffed at him, wiping away your tears as they continued to fall.
Vox so badly wanted to make it stop, but he didn't trust himself to be lucid enough to say the right words.
"Well wouldn't you know? I'd bet the women over there would throw themselves at your feet."
Another shot of whisky, can't stop looking at the door...
Vox couldn't tell if it was his imagination or not that made it seem like he heard jealousy in your voice.
There wasn't any reason for you to feel envious anyway.
He took another swig of alcohol before meeting your gaze once again.
Wishing you'd come sweeping, in the way you did before~
"So what if there are? I'm too busy to pursue a dedicated relationship. I mean- have you seen the amount of shit I have to deal with every day?"
You looked dejected by his answer, or at least that's what Vox thought.
Yeah, he was absolutely wasted.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?
"So what did you do? Did you break up with the guy?"
"Can't. If I do, he'll release all my pictures online."
Vox hummed, pulling up a window on your computer for you to interact with.
He was a paranoid man as is, but this just proved it didn't hurt to have precautions in place.
For me it happens all the time...
"What is that?"
"Something I made for all your files months ago."
"What does it do?"
Vox took another swig from his bottle.
It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now...
"A safeguard, all files you send from your devices can be irreversibly corrupted remotely. An encryption thing, I tried to tell you about it but you didn't respond."
He wasn't surprised that you pressed the prompt to start the file corruption process on those pictures you'd sent.
Hell, everything you sent the rat bastard that broke your heart.
Honestly, the fucker didn't even deserve you.
Neither did Vox if he had to be honest with himself.
Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control-
The overlord stayed silent as he drank once more from his bottle of booze.
It was nearly empty at this point, not that he cared.
He could only assume you were watching the progress bar load which was why you didn't say anything.
And I need you now...
Vox just watched as you eventually got up and used your phone to call someone.
A smug smile worked onto his face when he realized who you were talking to.
After all, you'd only curse like a sailor when you were genuinely mad.
And I don't know how I can do without-
"You're kind of hot when you get angry you know?"
"Pfft, is that why you like to piss me off then?"
"Maybe, though I usually do just to get a reaction out of you anyways."
I just need you now...
Vox saw you roll your eyes, a smile finally gracing your face and he couldn't help but return it.
"I just became single again and you're already hitting on me huh?"
"Whaaaaat? I would never."
Vox humored you well into the morning hours.
The both of you talking once again like old times.
Like nothing even happened.
Eventually it got to the point you had fallen asleep on the couch right in front of the TV during one of Vox's stories.
The overlord let a soft genuine smile appear on his face at the sight.
At least you were okay again.
He swirled the remaining alcohol in the bottle and threw his head back as he downed the rest of it.
Finally feeling the exhaustion catch up to him, both emotionally and physically-
Vox's screen dimmed as he succumbed to slumber right alongside you in his chair.
A/N: HOOOOLY SHIT THIS CHAPTER IS LONG- this was an absolute UNIT of a segment but it gets better in the next one I promise, besides- I don't want to doom Vox and Reader by the narrative, that would just be a sucky ending. We'll still have more emotionally vulnerable stuff in the next interlude so if that's not your cup of tea feel free to skip it too.
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evergone · 1 year
Text
I'm [Nott] a Bad Person
Theodore Nott x Reader
Warnings: swearing, bullying
Description: The reader and Theo are accused of causing a fight, but they swear they didn't do it.
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Professor McGonagall’s office was a little too **Gryffindor-esque for your tastes. The couches, wallpaper, and even the rug on the floor underneath her desk were all some shade of dark red and you had no other way to describe it other than ‘detestably Gryffindor.’ Even so, the fireplace opposite the door warmed the room and gave it that undeniably homey feel you always got when you returned to Hogwarts after the long, hot break between years. She had a few paintings hanging from her walls, but either the subjects were busy elsewhere or she just had a thing for landscapes. One in particular caught your eye, a painting of the Forbidden Forest where you had certainly never been. After all, it was forbidden and you, ever the obedient Slytherin, would never break a rule.
“Do you know why you are here?” The professor asked and your attention slid back to the situation you were in.
“I know why they’re here,” Theo responded from your left, “But Y/n and I are victims.”
“Oh, please, you lot started this whole thing!” Granger squeaked like that little mouse the weasel kid used to have.
“Do you ever shut up, Granger?” Theo retorted.
Your lips tightened as you attempted to stifle a laugh and Theo sent you a quick smirk. McGonagall cleared her throat, again regaining your limited attention span as she tapped impatiently on her brown wooden desk; creating a dum-dum, dum-dum sound under the pads of her fingers like a heartbeat. Furrowed brows and an intense stare told you more than enough about her absolutely foul mood, and you reminded yourself not to play around with her.
“Each of you, tell me the story,” she said, “You first, Mister Potter.”
Theo muttered an ‘of course’ under his breath but you pretended not to hear it. If anyone was to get in trouble you were going to make damn sure it wasn’t you. You had a reputation to uphold; the nicest Slytherin anyone would ever meet. A façade, obviously, you were just as ruthless and cunning as your housemates, but the nice façade was what made you so. It was truly a shame Potter and co. had found you out, but you intended to cover your ass so well that no one else would ever know the truth about you, save for your friends.
“Well, uh…” Potter began to recount his version of the tale.
Apparently (and I say ‘apparently’ because despite his story being almost entirely accurate, you were going to make up a completely different one to get away with this), he had come to you in a free period to ask about how to befriend dragons quickly, knowing as well as most that your family had been breeding dragons since the dawn of dragonology. You were skeptical of him, having never quite interacted with him directly, only through the wild stories Draco or Pansy would tell you or small altercations in the halls that you always pulled Theo away from. Draco could do as he wished but you wouldn’t see yourself or your boyfriend being implicated in his shenanigans.
“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” you had told Potter.
“And why’s that?” He asked.
“All my friends say that you’re — and I’m quoting them here — ‘a mudblood mingling cunt,’” you said, “And though I have no care in the world for blood purity, I do like my friends quite a bit. They wouldn’t hang out with me if I got caught with you.”
You always had a wonderful way of putting things. Your monotonous voice mixed with your incredibly harsh words made for the most readable and expressive conversations. Potter’s little muggle born girlfriend (or girl friend, whichever it was) had almost jumped out of her own socks at your foul language. Personally offended, perhaps? You didn’t mean to hurt her, it just sort of slipped out. Maybe if you were actually a nicer person you’d apologise.
“Just… give me a hand? I know you helped Cedric,” Potter pleaded.
You shrugged, “I really can’t talk to you,” you said, “Though… I am weak to bribery… Maybe if you find me something I want I’ll help you out. Bye.”
And then you pushed through the group to go find your friends who you were bound to find eating in the courtyard instead of studying. Smart kids never studied and neither did dumb kids. When Crabbe and Goyle were there it was easy to tell the difference, but other times, not so much. Allegedly (again, I say this to protect the integrity of the tale you would later tell), you stopped half a step through and turned to show Potter your badge.
“Draco says you really like them,” you laughed, “Get a closer look.”
Desperate for your help and willing to do anything, Potter leaned closer to watch as the red ‘Support Cedric’ turned to the green ‘Potter stinks’ but then a forth colour emerged, a deep purple with no writing. He opened his mouth to ask what that colour meant, but was abruptly cut off when the badge squirted the most revolting smelling purple goo all over him. Again, allegedly, you had cursed it to do that when it saw his face… You would argue that someone must have cursed it prior to giving it to you without your knowing.
“Now you really do stink!” You had smiled sarcastically, “Bye now.”
You then continued on your journey to find your friends, leaving Potter drenched in the most malodorous thing he had ever smelt.
Later that very same day, he had approached you at lunch with a bribe. Oh, how you loved to be bribed. You were like a politician in that sense. He placed two objects in front of you: a book you knew was from the restricted section titled ‘Advanced Curses and How to Master Them,’ and a purse full of coins which, after peeking through the opening at the top, you realised were all gold.
“You know, you shouldn’t bribe people so out in the open, Potter,” You motioned to Theo, Pansy and Draco, all of whom were giving you looks that asked what in the name of Salazar were you doing, “It’s… counterproductive.”
“Merlin’s beard, L/n, just take it and help me,” Potter said.
“Is he bothering you, Y/n?” Theo asked.
You’d glanced between your boyfriend and Potter, wondering what to do in the situation. Potter noticed you’d become flustered at being put on the spot like that, even mentioned it to McGonagall. Truthfully, your head was telling you to say no because you knew as well as anyone how Theo could be when you were uneasy. He was awfully protective. But your heart wanted you to say yes so you could start a little fight and make your friends and Theo proud. You were never quite as provocative as they were when it came to the whole Slytherin-Gryffindor thing and it made you slightly self conscious, to be honest.
You would tell McGonagall that your head won, and Potter had started the fight. Theo was only defending you from the very scary Gryffindor who had decided to attack you just because you didn’t want to help him out earlier. But, in all honesty, your heart had won, or so the story goes.
“Yes, Teddy, he’s been bothering me all day,” you had said.
“How ‘bout you leave, Potter?” Theo asked, but it was hardly a question.
Potter rolled his eyes, “We had a deal, L/n.”
“I don’t think she would’ve agreed to anything with you,” Theo said and (allegedly) shoved Potter from across the table.
It was at that point that all hell broke loose. Potter’s explanation of the situation was riddled with what you would call lies about getting his shit rocked by Theo’s incredible fighting skills. You’d bloodied your boyfriend up afterwards using a little glamour charm you kept handy in case of emergencies. That was yet another way you were like a politician, you were incredible at deceiving people. On the off chance McGonagall noticed the charm, Theo had agreed to take the fall and stage an argument with you where you’d break up with him. The relationship wouldn’t be destroyed, you’d just act strained for a week or so while he did detention.
“Miss L/n, these are a lot of accusations being thrown,” McGonagall said, her eyes staring down at you over her nose, “What say you?”
You let your bottom lip quiver, but you wouldn’t dare cry. That would be too much and she wouldn’t believe you for a second. You may have had a good reputation, but she loved Potter and co. and had a huge bias in their favour. You had to be so convincing that she wouldn’t have a single doubt.
“I just didn’t want to get involved,” you said, “Professor, I’m a Slytherin, there’s a certain… standard that I’m held to. I told Potter that I didn’t want to help him because everyone would be upset with me and he tried to bribe me of his own accord.”
“She’s obviously lying, Professor, please—”
“Miss Granger, Miss L/n didn’t interrupt your telling of events, I suggest you don’t interrupt hers.”
You continued to lie through your teeth like a professional. You’d think McGonagall would know to use a truth serum when dealing with teenagers, but she was too trusting. Photographs of former students were framed on her desk, others who likely lied to her as you were doing. They were mostly Gryffindors, for obvious reasons, but there were Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and the odd Slytherin as well, all of them moving slightly in celebration of their graduations. Potter and co. would likely end up on that desk one day and while you’d hope yourself and your friends would end up on Snape’s, he had never come across as the sentimental type.
“One of you aren’t telling me the truth,” McGonagall said with a sigh once you had finished your recount, “Know that I’m disappointed in you but I cannot be bothered to deal with this today. If I hear about troubles with you lot again I will not hesitate to give you all detention.”
A chorus of ‘yes, Professor’s filled the room before she shooed you all out to go your separate ways. At the door to her office which she had closed behind the four of you, or rather, the two and two of you, Theo turned to the others.
“Don’t start things you can’t finish, Potter,” he said with a snarky tone.
Potter and Granger hardly acknowledged the remark, and you found yourself missing the weasel boy who would have leapt at the opportunity to throw something back. At your core, you liked to consider yourself morally good, but Merlin’s beard, you were a bit of an instigator, perhaps even a bully, weren’t you? You glanced at Theo, who you hadn’t realised had begun a little bit of a rant about blood superiority, and laughed out loud.
“What?” He asked you, his head on the slightest tilt that it was hardly noticeable.
“I think you and the others have turned me into a bad person,” you giggled, biting your lip.
“Y/n/n, that’s so fucking mean,” he said, “You are so rude.”
“I learnt from the best,” you teased as you poked his arm.
Theo shook his head and captured your arm in his so the two of you could walk back to the Slytherin dorms together.
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sister-lucifer · 1 year
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Genre: Smut 
Summary: Reader finds an antique Jack-In-The-Box at a yard sale, unaware that by purchasing it they would also be taking home an unwanted guest. 
Content/Warnings: Dubcon elements, horror elements, LJ being a stalker creep (so some non con voyeurism), LJ is just fucking weird in this one, clown fucking shenanigans, big stripey clown dick and also long stripey clown tongue, comically large clown penis, LJ eats ass, LJ is massive so big size difference, tummy bulge, that dick should NOT be able to fit in you but it’s my story i can bend the laws of anatomy however i wish, LJ is very mean in this one and doesn’t really care if he hurts you, some degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is kind of a slut boy (same), there’s a lot of build up but please it’s worth it i prommy (but also feel free to skip to the porn that’s totally fair)
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
A/N: Jack is british just fyi so if you’re like me and you read with accents there you go!
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The antique jack-in-the-box was certainly an odd find at a garage sale, but there was no denying that it caught your eye the moment you saw it. It was incredibly ornate, clearly hand painted in all black and white and decorated with balloons and candy, not to mention it was preserved wonderfully for a piece that had, presumably, been stored in an attic for who knows how long. You could run your fingers over the edges and feel every detail of the tediously carved borders. You carefully turned the wooden box over in your hands, looking over the large, carefully painted words on the front:
“Laughing Jack In The Box!”, surrounded by all sorts of patterns and shapes.
Your face immediately lit up. Everything about this box screamed one of a kind. You could already see it sitting on your collectors shelf, safe behind the glass for you to keep and observe. You absolutely had to have it. 
“Excuse me miss?” You called, looking around for the old woman who was running the garage sale. She got up from her lawn chair and made her way over about as fast as you’d expect from one as antique as some of the items currently being sold. 
“Could you tell me about this jack-in-the-box?” You asked, trying to hide your elation. 
“Oh, this old thing…” She began, looking at you over her comically oversized glasses. “It belonged to my great, great grandfather, Isaac, and was handmade by his father. It was given to me as a young girl, and I was keeping it in the hopes I could pass it on to my own children.” 
You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the comment, but it seems the woman had no qualms about selling it. 
“Well, it may please you to know that I’m an antique collector,” You explained in an effort to reassure her. “This is a beautiful piece. If you’ll sell it to me, I can promise you it’ll be safe on my shelf.” 
“Oh, I have no worries about that. No one would pick this old thing up unless they knew what they were buying. So, what’s your offer young man?” 
You thought for a few moments, weighing the box in your hands. You didn’t want to completely rip her off, but a one of a kind antique like this could go for thousands in the right place, and you weren’t looking to break the bank for this thing. Besides, who else would possibly buy it if you didn’t? 
You pulled your wallet out and flipped through it, debating with yourself. 
“How about…a clean fifty?” 
And with that, a deal was made. Before you knew it you were proudly walking back to your car with the box tucked under your arm. You placed it carefully in the front passenger seat where you could watch over it, glancing back one last time to the now empty place on the table where the box once sat before driving away. 
Immediately upon getting home you rushed to your room and swung open your shelf, eyes scanning over every row as you tried to find the best place for your newest treasure. It took a bit of rearranging to keep the shelf organized to your liking, but eventually you were able to place the box neatly right in the middle. You carefully closed the glass door and took a few steps back to admire your work. It was absolute perfection, and you couldn’t stop yourself from happily clapping your hands together. You deserved to applaud yourself a bit, after all. 
You flopped down on your bed and grabbed your phone, eager to share your find with anyone who would listen, giddy with excitement. You really couldn’t believe how lucky you were! No one else would ever lay hands on a jack-in-the-box like this one, and now it was all yours. 
As the hours of the afternoon dissolved into the night, you found yourself peeking into your room just about every time you walked past. You smiled wide whenever you saw the pristine box sitting on your shelf. It was especially beautiful when the sun hit it just right and made it shine. Your chest was still swelling with pride even as you climbed into bed for the night, able to peacefully fall asleep knowing that you’d filled another spot on your shelf today. 
Unbeknownst to you, you had just given up the privilege of peaceful sleep. 
That night you had one of the worst, most vivid nightmares you could remember. 
You were standing in your room late at night, and everything seemed deathly silent, as if all the birds and insects that would normally be chirping outside had up and died off. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked around in confusion. You tried to turn on your lamp, but it wouldn’t come on. Trying the light switch yielded the same distressing result. You moved to open the door, but the moment you reached out for the knob it disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. When you turned back, your bedroom window was gone too. Both of your escape routes had dissolved into thin air without so much as a sound. 
The hair on the back of your neck stood up as your eyes slowly wandered to the jack-in-the-box. It was the only object left on your now open collectors shelf, but it seemed to take up so much more space than before. It had captured your gaze in an iron grip, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t look away. A terrible feeling began to bubble in the pit of your stomach, becoming heavier and heavier until you felt as though you may collapse from the weight, but nothing was happening. Something about the box itself felt so…malicious, so threatening, but it was simply sitting dormant on your shelf. 
What were you so scared of? 
That was the question replaying in your mind when you woke with a start, nearly falling out of your bed in your disoriented state. You shot straight up as you fought to catch your breath, taking a look around just to make sure your window and door were still there. Fortunately, they were. It really was just a nightmare. 
A wave of relief washed over you as you slowly laid back down. You took an extra minute to catch your breath, silently scolding yourself for being so easily scared. You turned your head to look out the window, now noticing the very first little shreds of the dawn coming up over the horizon. 
However, you noticed something else as well. Something that set off just a bit of unease in you. 
The glass door of your shelf was open. 
Not wide open, or broken, just slightly cracked as if it hadn’t been closed all the way and was now just barely ajar. You could’ve sworn you shut it all the way, you could even remember hearing the little click.
But we all make mistakes, don’t we?
That seemed enough of an explanation to calm you as you slipped out of bed to close the shelf once more. This time you double checked, just to be sure. When you were satisfied you went back to bed, finding sleep rather easily and this time without incident. 
When you awoke some hours later you couldn’t help but question which parts of the night were a dream and which were reality. The memories of when you had woken up the first time were hazy, not to mention you were still shaken up from the nightmare. You tried to push it out of your mind, though, when you found your shelf securely closed and seemingly untouched. That was really all that mattered. 
It seems you had the green light to go about your day as usual. 
First thing’s first: you need to change out of your nightclothes. The stained band tee and baggy sweats would not cut it for running errands. You decided on something that would be comfortable for the day, but still made you feel confident and happy with yourself. 
As you undressed you couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate yourself in the mirror, standing there in just your boxer briefs. You ran a hand over your sides, turning around halfway as you admired your own figure. It was a silly habit to have, really, but what was it hurting? After all, you were one handsome man. You deserved to be seen. 
You weren’t the only one who thought this, and you certainly weren’t the only one who enjoyed admiring you. 
Completely hidden out of your view, just how he liked, two achromatic pinwheel eyes spun manically behind the shadows of the jack-in-the-box. He only had to lift the box just slightly, so little that you would never notice, and even if you did you would likely brush it off as your imagination. Jack was skilled like that, able to slowly lure his victims into madness in such a way that they wouldn’t notice until it was too late. 
You, though, had caught his attention in a slightly different manner. 
You had piqued his interest the moment you picked up his box, handling it with a curious yet careful manner. For generations he had been packed away in dusty attics and grimy basements and long forgotten storage units, completely disgraced by the family line that was supposed to cherish him. But you had plucked him from that miserable cycle, dusted him off, and placed him carefully on your shelf in a secure little spot where you could see each other every day. 
This was certainly unusual behavior. 
That ache of contempt that he felt for nearly everyone else somehow had yet to creep in. On some level, Jack was just as curious about you has you had been about him, and now he was safe behind the glass to keep and observe you as he saw fit. Human bodies in particular had always been an odd interest of his seeing as they looked so different from his own. Seeing you flaunt yours so proudly with no one else around was honestly a bit amusing. 
He watched silently as you slipped on your day clothes, turning around a couple more times in the mirror and adjusting your outfit a bit before finally deciding you were happy. He didn’t slip back down into his box until he heard your car pulling out of the driveway. 
He sat there with himself for some few hours while you were gone. He had lost any sense of time at this point, used to spending his days alone in his box. Although, this time, there was one reoccurring theme that all his thoughts seemed to circle back to: 
You. 
What made exactly you so interesting, hm? He could venture a vague guess, but something was just…different. His affinity for humans had long since waned to nothing nearly two centuries ago, and yet a small part of it was beginning to stir in him once more. 
It seemed this would require further observation, which was certainly no issue to him. 
You, on the other hand, were blissfully unaware that you were currently sharing your humble abode. There were a few times when the events of the earlier night managed to worm its way back into your mind, but you always managed to push it away. You were simply being silly, that was all. It was a random occurrence with absolutely no significance. 
Yeah, sure, that made enough sense. 
By the time you were unlocking your front door, you had been lucky enough to truly forget about your nightmare. It seemed that you had finally calmed yourself and managed to stay grounded. 
At least you had until you stepped through the door. 
The second you had both feet in the doorway, the nightmare came rushing back in vivid flashes. It felt like your grocery bags were filled with cement, your limbs suddenly going weak. Your entire body had gone stiff, paralyzed with an indescribable sense of anxiety, the feeling that something was terribly, deeply wrong in your home. 
You swept through the whole house and found not a single thing out of place, though every time you turned a corner you were sure you’d see something you didn’t want to.
No smashed in windows, no kicked in doors, nothing taken or broken, no other sign of an intruder. Nothing that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.
Then why was your stomach churning with the same heavy dread you’d felt in the nightmare? 
You wracked your brain as you tried to figure out what could possibly be making you feel so uneasy in your own home, but nothing came to mind. Even as you put away your groceries you were mumbling and muttering to yourself, attempting to fetch any semblance of an explanation. 
Nothing. 
Absolutely nothing. 
Jack was more than happy to watch you spin yourself into a tizzy over his little tricks. He giggled to himself when you paced back and forth where he could see you outside the doorway of your room, proud to see he hadn’t lost his mischievous touch. 
You felt absolutely exhausted by the time you were trudging your way to your room, the subtle thrum of an oncoming headache already threatening to floor you for the rest of the day. You were so drained, in fact, that you had to do a double take to realize that your collector’s shelf had been completely opened. 
Not just creaked open like last time, completely opened. If it had been pushed any farther, the hinges would’ve snapped. 
You stared in disbelief, mouth hanging half open. You couldn’t even will yourself to move. It felt someone had just lit a match to the pile of questions that had been accumulating in the back of your mind. As if on autopilot, you walked over numbly and shut the glass door of the shelf. This time, you triple checked that it was shut. 
Of course, this time you weren’t satisfied with that. 
The first thing you did once you had thrown on sweats and laid down was go to order a lock for the shelf online. You even paid extra to make sure it would be delivered the next day. After all, the last thing you needed was one of your prized possessions falling out and breaking. 
Yes, that was the very normal, rational reason why you needed a lock. 
You sighed with exhaustion as you struggled to get comfortable in your bed, figuring maybe a nap would help you recharge a bit. By some miracle you actually managed to fall asleep, and by another you slept peacefully for a full hour uninterrupted. 
Damn, you needed that. You actually felt better when you woke up, stretching and cracking your back a few times before getting up. 
Suddenly your fearful reaction earlier seemed so silly! Why were you so upset anyways? Because of a bad dream and a dingy old shelf? How stupid. Really, you were lucky you lived alone. If anyone had seen you like that they’d think you were crazy, irrational, completely out of your—
The shelf is open again. 
The fucking shelf is open again, and the box has moved an entire shelf down on its own. 
The box has moved on its own. 
You were suddenly feeling light headed. 
You sat back down on your bed, your head already beginning to ache once more. You were dizzy, confused, struggling to find your bearings in reality. You held your head in your hands as you tried to take a breather. Part of you hoped that if you simply looked away then back up, maybe the problem would fix itself.
No such luck. 
You groaned with frustration, practically stomping over to your shelf. You moved the box back to its original place in a quick and jumpy manner, as if it was burning hot and it would hurt to hold onto it for too long. This time you quadruple checked that it had been closed properly, and even threw a blanket over the shelf to cover it. 
It wasn’t a fix, but it could at least give you some semblance of security. 
“Stupid broken thing…” You muttered to yourself, speed walking out of your room to head to the kitchen where hopefully a snack could distract you. 
Jack was giddy with excitement, unable to stop himself from snickering with smug self-satisfaction. It had been so long since he had someone to play with, and you were so fun to scare it almost felt too easy. 
He would have to play his next cards perfectly, though, if he wanted to keep this up. 
He didn’t mess with you at all the rest of the day, even when he really, really wanted to. You peaked into your room every time you walked by, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw the shelf was exactly as you’d left it every time. 
Maybe, you thought for the umpteenth time, you really were just being irrational. You didn’t even have another nightmare that night, and when you awoke the shelf was still closed with the blanket untouched on top of it. 
When the lock came in that day you wondered for a bit if you really needed it, but ultimately decided it was better to be over-prepared than under. You could finally remove the blanket cover on the shelf, feeling much better now that you could properly shut and lock it. You stored the key away in the drawer of your nightstand where you knew it would be safe. 
For you, it seemed like everything was finally back to normal again. 
For Jack, this was the perfect opportunity to increase his antics tenfold. He was becoming more and more impatient, wanting to badly to properly greet you, and with each scare he only felt himself grow stronger. He was feeding on your anguish, allowing it to fuel him until eventually he would be ready to come out and play. 
For the next few weeks, Jack made you sure you found absolutely no peace. He was relentless and cruel, even by his standards. He broke your stupid little lock, and the two others you ordered after that. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d made you shut the glass door to the shelf again. Whenever you tried to cover him with the blanket, he let you know he was particularly upset with you by not only swinging the shelf door wide open, but moving his box right to your bedside table. That way, he got to see your terror up close when you jolted awake, nearly tripping over yourself to get away when you saw the box a mere couple of feet from your face. He made the house creak and jump every time you got a moment of quiet. Hell, he was petty enough to mess with the thermostat when you were out, meaning you got to return home to a freezing cold or blistering heat that was surely running up your bill. Speaking of running up your bills, it wasn’t unusual for Jack to leave the water running either. 
The thing that got to you the most, though, was the incessant nightmares.
God, they never stopped. 
They were almost all the same: 
You’d be trapped somewhere familiar, like your room or a store you’d been at that day. You’d be completely alone and no lights would work, and when you tried to leave all the doors and windows would disappear. And every time, every goddamn time, that jack-in-the-box would be sitting there to greet you when you turned around. That was by far the worst part. Just looking at it would make you weak and nauseous, but you always woke up just before you’d collapse. Whenever you awoke from your nightmares you tried to take comfort in the sunrise beginning to slowly come up over the horizon, but deep down you knew the daylight could no longer save you. 
Each day you woke up more exhausted than the last, too tired to go anywhere but not able to stand being in your house with whatever entity was making your life hell. 
On the contrary, Jack was merely becoming more and more energetic every day. He hadn’t felt this eager in a long, long time. He was even feeling a bit bold, working up the courage once or twice to open the shelf while you were in the room. That scared you the most, making you jump with fear and scramble out of the room as fast as you could. 
He knew you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. You could leave for the day, sure, but sooner or later you’d have to come back home. The stars must’ve aligned for him to find you, the perfect little plaything that could never really escape and gave him endless entertainment. You were certainly a funny one. 
Although, there were times he enjoyed simply watching you just as much as tormenting you. 
Countless times he’d find himself occupied with quietly observing you as if you were a completely foreign creature. He’d peak out of his box to watch you toss and turn at night, to watch you dress in the morning, and he even got to see you walk back from your showers a few times. You looked so soft, even from this far away, with so many places for him to grab and squeeze and wrap his massive claws around. 
It was shameful, really. Or it should’ve been at least. Jack didn’t know the meaning of the word. All he knew was that the urge to reach out and grab you in his claws was growing stronger, and fast. His already minimal patience was beginning to thin, and he knew that soon it would run out completely. Watching you from afar wouldn’t be enough. 
But that was okay. 
He was finally ready to properly greet you, and he knew exactly how he’d do it. 
That night you experienced one of the usual terrors, but this time you couldn’t recognize the room. It looked to be the bedroom of a victorian mansion with tall wooden walls decorated with dusty paintings that seemed to go up forever, closing you in on all sides. A child’s toys were scattered around the room, and the blankets on the bed had been tussled and pushed around. It was clear someone had been living here, but who? And why were you in a room you had never seen before? 
And why, God— 
Why was that jack-in-the-box still sitting on the shelf? And why was the crank turning on its own, playing the quiet, foreboding tune of “Pop Goes The Weasel?” 
The feeling of dread that filled you was nothing new, but what you didn’t expect was to see the box slowly open as the crank continued to turn.
The movement wasn’t sudden, but it was absolutely shocking, so much so that you fell back onto your hands. You tried to scoot backwards, to somehow get away, but you couldn’t move. All you could do was watch as the lid of the box clicked into its open place, and a dark shape began to emerge. 
It took a moment for you to figure out what you were looking at. The shape had sharp edges and moved slowly, in a controlled manner. It wrapped around the edge of the box and tapped against it. 
It was a hand. 
A massive hand with pitch black claws, each nearly as large as your palm, much too big to belong to something that should’ve been able to fit in that box. 
A second clawed hand reached up, grabbing onto the opposite side of the box. They looked to be pulling up the rest of the body. 
You watched, mouth agape in silent horror as the claws were followed by long striped sleeves, then a head and face covered by long black hair that fell past broad shoulders, until eventually the entire body had dragged itself out of the box. The creature sat there limply with its limbs bent unnaturally as if its own body was too heavy for it to move. There was one thing about it, though, that made your blood run cold: 
Above a sharp toothed smile that was stretched impossibly wide were two achromatic pinwheel eyes, spinning manically behind a curtain of dark hair. They pierced your soul with their stare, almost seeming to glow in the dark.
There was a split second where you knew you were about to wake up, but the sight before you when you forced your eyes open was so similar to your nightmare that you weren’t sure it had worked. 
That…thing from your dream was hovering over you. 
Its visage was completely clear to you now, hair falling around its face and on either side of your head as it peered down at you. A single glance towards its body showed it was even bigger up close, easily twice your size. It resembled some sort of clown, in line with the theme of the jack-in-the-box, but nothing about it seemed comforting or humorous. 
Your first instinct was to thrash, but you couldn’t move. The clown had pinned your arms down with its massive claws, not even flinching when you tried to fight it off. It took no effort to hold you down. 
Its razor-toothed mouth began to crack open, and for a second you expected it to lunge forward and end it all with one fatal snap of its jaws. 
But that didn’t happen.
No, instead… 
It laughed.
The laugh itself didn’t even sound malicious or evil. In any other context it could easily be mistaken as an innocent giggle, a sound you might make when you saw something particularly cute. 
That was what you were to Jack: 
Cute. 
But not in the way you’d think. 
You were cute in the way a helpless, injured animal is cute. 
Cute in the way that something you could hold in the palm of your hand is cute. 
Cute in the way that something you knew you had complete control over is cute. 
Cute in a pathetic, pitiful way that Jack loved. 
He had waited so long to have his fun with you, he was trembling with excitement. 
“Oooh, there you are!” Jack spoke in a lighthearted tone, drawing out his words in a playful manner. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to sound like, but it definitely wasn’t that. You couldn’t decide if his oddly happy demeanor and sing-song tone with the cartoonish lilt of his accent was more or less frightening than the classic demonic voice of a supernatural killer.
Suddenly something uncomfortably wet slid from your shoulder to your cheek, and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you realized it was his tongue. 
It was impossibly long and had the same striped pattern as his sleeves, moving in a much too articulated manner, as if it was another limb. You watched with wide eyes at it slowly retracted back into his mouth with a sickening wet sound. You could imagine it coiled up in there like a snake; after all, that was the only feasible way it should’ve been able to fit back in his mouth. 
“You taste even better than I imagined…” The clown continued, taking no notice of (or at least not caring about) your discomfort. “You’ve been teasing ol’ Jack, haven’t you?” 
“J…Jack?” You echoed in a whisper. You could hardly hear your own meek voice. 
He only chuckled in response, taking great delight in hearing you say his name. 
One of his hands released your arm, though you didn’t dare move either way. It slowly slid its way under your oversized nightshirt, pushing it above your chest and exposing your entire midriff. Both of his hands ran along your sides slowly, two claw-tipped thumbs barely scraping over your skin. Just a bit more pressure could’ve drawn blood, and it wouldn’t even take much effort on Jack’s part. 
You tried not to move, to not even breathe, terrified that one wrong move would get you torn to shreds. You could imagine one razor sharp talon digging into your chest and dragging to your stomach, slicing you open in a mess of gore and intestines and oh, God—
You winced when Jack’s tongue unfurled once more, this time running from your navel all the way to your chest. It left a cold trail of saliva that made you shiver. You had to turn your head away, unable to look at Jack any longer, only to yelp in pain when you felt the sharp sting of a bite.
When you looked down again you were greeted with Jack’s smug grin. 
“Pay attention to me and I won’t have to do that again.” He ordered, unblinking stare piercing through you. The tone of the demand was almost whiny, like he would throw a tantrum if he didn’t get his way.
“Wh…What the hell do you want?” You choked out. 
Jack didn’t answer. It would be more fun to watch you figure it out on your own. 
He adjusted you in his hold, allowing him to sit up as he moved to grasp your thighs. It was then you realized you’d neglected to put on any actual pants before bed, your lower half clad only in your boxer briefs which were doing very little to keep you modest, especially as Jack lifted your clothed bulge closer to his eager mouth. 
“W-Wait—!”
But your plea came a moment too late, and any other attempt at words died in your throat when you felt Jack’s tongue run over your cock through your boxers. 
“Shit—! Jesus Christ…” You huffed, “What the fuck…are you doing…?” 
You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and watched helplessly as Jack’s tongue ran over you once more, making you tense as you felt your cock twitch. Damn, that felt good…
You really shouldn’t have been enjoying this. Especially not this much. You expected to be much more disgusted, and yet you weren’t. In fact, there was a little voice in the back of your head that was eager to take much more. 
But what choice did you have, really? 
Jack certainly had no intention of stopping, and you certainly weren’t going anywhere. Besides, for all you knew you’d wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a shameful wet dream.
You tried to relax a bit in his grip, which proved difficult when he was staring at you like he wanted to eat you alive. 
Before you could blink Jack had suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, making quick work of your boxers with one swipe of his claws. The sound of ripping fabric caught you off guard, and everything happened so fast you weren’t sure what had happened until you felt Jack’s tongue run over the bare back of your thighs. 
“Oh my God—!” You cried out, barely managing to muffle yourself with a pillow. You held it tight against your face, and even had to bite down on it in an attempt to stop yourself from screaming when Jack slipped his tongue inside of you.
It felt even longer than it looked, squirming inside of you and leaving absolutely no spot untouched. Every time you thought he couldn’t possibly go any deeper, he somehow did, filling you with his tongue until you couldn’t fit anymore. A shame, really; he had lots more to offer, but he couldn’t expect much from such a little human. 
His hands were easily large enough to grasp your waist and hold you against his mouth. You had no way of knowing, but Jack was more than aware of his own strength, even taking care to make sure he didn’t pierce you with his nails. You’d be much for fun alive, after all. Although, this didn’t mean he didn’t have a bit of fun scaring you, occasionally giving a rough squeeze just to feel you flinch. He was thoroughly invested in tasting every inch of you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop toying with you at every opportunity. 
Despite his hold on you, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing desperately in his hands. You weren’t trying to fight him, but the sensation of his tongue wriggling around so deep inside of you was certainly an odd one. Your cock was already throbbing between your legs and dripping precum onto your sheets. There was a nagging urge to reach down and give your needy member some much needed attention, but you couldn’t force yourself to release your painful grip on your blanket. It was the only thing providing you any sort of purchase. 
Jack was making quite the show of eating you out as well, moaning and slurping in a rather dramatic manner. He certainly wasn’t afraid of being noisy, though he made sure to stay quiet enough to listen to your encouraging noises. You sounded so desperate and needy, he just couldn’t get enough. You became especially loud when he began to slowly move his tongue in and out. He could even feel you squeeze around it, and it made his cock ache as he imagined what it would feel like to finally be inside of you. 
You shuddered when Jack finally retracted his tongue, his saliva completely soaking your hole and beginning to run down your legs, leaving you now feeling thoroughly stretched but unpleasantly empty. He only let you rest as long as it took for him to close and wipe his mouth before he was manhandling you once more, this time flipping you into your previous position on your back. It happened so fast that just the impact of your head on the pillow made you dizzy. 
When you looked up again Jack had leaned back a bit, looking down at his hands as he unbuckled his suspenders and soon after his pants. You followed his gaze just in time to see his own massive length spring free from his trousers. 
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
It was bigger than anything you’d ever even imagined, and suddenly you felt embarrassingly inadequate. It too was striped, and shaped in such a way that you could easily tell it was a cock but definitely not a human one. He laid it over your stomach and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size. It was thick and heavy too, throbbing eagerly against your skin. 
“W-Woah, wait, no way—“ You stuttered, attempting to crawl backwards and away from Jack. “That’s fucking giant, holy shit…You can’t— T-That won’t—“ 
“Shhhhh!” Jack interrupted as he roughly pulled you back to him, “Calm down, you whiny little thing. You’ll be fine.” 
You only whimpered in reply, watching with bated breath as he spread your legs wide to make room for his cock. He groaned with delight when his leaking tip brushed against your waiting hole.
“A-At least be careful…!” You pleaded in a last-ditch effort to earn yourself some mercy. 
“I make no promises.” Jack replied shortly, as if he was annoyed with your request. Maybe it was a bit cruel to be so careless, but surely you were being dramatic. Humans were meant to stretch, right? Surely you weren’t that fragile.
The noise that struggled out of your mouth when he forced himself into you was downright inhuman, followed by a string of curses and other equally nasty exclamations of the sort that could’ve barred you from getting you into heaven all on their own. Not that you were going either way at this point. 
When Jack had finally filled you as much as he could, only about two thirds of his cock had managed to disappear inside of you. That was still rather impressive, all things considered, and it’s not like he could complain. Your tight hole squeezed around him in all the right places. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You repeated under your breath as you tried to adjust to Jack’s size, a borderline impossible task. 
“Foul mouthed one, aren’t you?” He scolded, grabbing your chin roughly. “Behave, or I’ll have to wash your mouth out.” 
He seemed to find that hilarious, laughing to himself as if he’d never heard a funnier joke in his life. 
“You…fuckin’ freak…” You spat back at him half-heartedly. It was hard to sound angry when you were trying to catch your breath after being filled to your limit. Jack feigned a gasp of disbelief at your lackluster insult. 
“Naughty, naughty thing you are! Someone simply must teach you to behave!” 
He squeezed you in his grip, testing his hold one last time before he began to pull back. You thought he’d stop halfway or at least start slow, but you were left speechless as he pulled out nearly all the way, leaving just the tip still nestled inside of you. You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to brace yourself for what was sure to be a brutal impact.
“Brutal” was an understatement.
Shit, it felt like he fucking impaled you. You choked on what would’ve been a shriek when he pushed into you again, nails digging into his shoulder so hard it would’ve drawn blood if he had any. You felt unbearably full as his cock bullied its way back inside of you until it was laying heavy in your stomach. 
Jack let out a shuddering moan that dissolved into a breathy laugh as he watched you struggle to keep it together. Your mouth hanging open in a silent scream and eyes going wide with panic was exactly what he wanted to see. 
“Aww, did that hurt?” He asked, and honestly the condescending tone stung a bit. You only glared in reply. 
He pulled back again, slamming into you with even more force than the first time. You could feel the bed swaying beneath you from the sheer strength. You could only hope he didn’t wind up breaking it after he broke you. 
Jack was never one to take things slow, and as soon as he had gotten the hang of his thrusts he set a brutal pace. Each movement made your head spin with the impact. You really weren’t built to take something so massive, you shouldn’t have been able to, but you were taking it despite your body’s protests. You didn’t want to look down, unable to even stand the thought of seeing his gigantic cock disappear inside of you. 
Desperate, animalistic noises spilled through your gritted teeth and out of your mouth. Each thrust hit deeper than the last and there were times you swore he was literally rearranging your guts. Of course you would eventually adjust to Jack’s size and strength, but that didn’t shake the fear that this encounter could land you in the hospital. This fear would fade as he continued though, the overwhelming fullness and ache soon melting into a pleasure like you’d never felt before. You grasped at anything you could, whether it be your sheets or Jack’s sleeves or hair, hopelessly clawing at anything you could get your shaky hands on. 
Jack’s tongue laid limp out of his mouth as he panted, shamelessly rutting into you like a toy. You were nothing but a rag doll in his clutches for him to hold and use to his black heart’s content, and then some. While you couldn’t bring yourself to look down, he was more than happy to watch his cock thrust in and out of you. The wet squelching sounds made by each little movement were like music to his ears. 
He knew he must’ve been hitting deep when he noticed the bulge he was making in your stomach. 
Oh, you simply had to see this! 
He grabbed your hair roughly and forced you to look down. 
“Ahah! Do you see that? Do you?” He asked eagerly. He took your choked noise as a ‘yes.’ 
“You’re so small, ahah…I wonder how deep I can go before you break in two!” 
He tugged on your hair once more, this time pulling it back to expose your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he dragged his tongue slowly up your neck before pulling you into a messy kiss. It only took one second of your surprise to allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth, and it quickly found its way down your throat. You were caught off guard and nearly choked, which only made Jack laugh against your lips. You could feel every little twitch or jerk it made as it explored your throat with no regard for your comfort. 
Jack didn’t pull away until he could tell you were struggling for air, retracting his tongue incredibly quickly. You were coughing and heaving to catch your breath, which he apparently found very amusing. It seemed to send him into a giggling fit every time he scared you half to death. 
Suddenly Jack came to an abrupt stop. You looked up at him in confusion, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was focused on something else. You felt yourself being jostled around as he shifted his position, sitting up on his knees and lifting you from the bed with one hand still around your waist and the other under your back. You were entirely supported by his hands now. 
What the hell is he thinking?!
You felt him retracting once more, but this time he wasn’t moving his hips. He was moving you. 
He showed no signs of struggle or even the slightest strain as he began to thrust into you again, your weight practically nothing to him. He was using you like a goddamn fleshlight, nothing more than a sleeve for his cock. 
And honestly…It wasn’t so bad. 
That seemed to be your breaking point, any sense of dignity you had before completely going out the window as you gave into him fully. If he was going to use you like a toy, you could at least put in the effort to be a good one. 
“F-Fuck! Ah—! Jack, m-more…!” You begged, and for a moment a look of surprise flashed across his face. The last thing he was expecting was to hear you pleading for him so shamelessly, but it was a welcome surprise. His signature grin returned quickly, stretching from one pointed ear to the other. 
“Oh, more he says?!” He replied, “More, more!  What happened to ‘wait, Jack!’ and ‘you can’t, Jack!’, huh? Sudden change of heart?” 
He was mocking your voice, degrading you so blatantly that he expected you to recoil at his nasty words, but instead you tightened around him. 
Oh…you liked that. 
He was more than happy to keep going. 
“What is it then, hm? Or have you already gone too stupid to answer me? Aha, you really do love this!” 
You nodded quickly in response, managing to push out a slurred reply that sounded vaguely like an agreement. 
“Fine then,” he conceded, “I can give you more…” 
And just when you thought he couldn’t possibly go any faster or shove in any deeper or make you cry out for him even more. 
He fucked you like his current life and the next depended on it, each thrust slamming the headboard into the wall so hard it left a mark. Your legs trembled as you began to get lost in the pleasure. It all felt like a blur, a wonderful blur only broken up by the realization that you were much closer to your orgasm than you realized.
“Jack, J-Jack—! I’m close, I…I’m…” You couldn’t even choke out a single sentence of warning. Jack was more than aware of what you were trying to tell him, but he was content to let you pathetically struggle for words. 
“Go on, why don’t you? If you need it so bad I won’t stop you.” 
His attempt at an impartial tone was greatly hindered by his obvious excitement, a result of how close he was to his own peak and how much he desired to see you cum. He wanted so badly to see you make a mess for him, to feel you spasm around him and know that he was the one who brought you to that. 
“Oh, please—!” You whined, “Please, please, please…” 
You had no idea what you were begging for. You didn’t have to, though, because it seems like your pleas worked anyways. Every muscle in your body tensed on instinct, your back arching up into Jack and one last high pitched cry managing to leave your throat as you came. The force of your orgasm hit you like a truck, more intense and prolonged than any other you’d had, helpfully hastened by Jack’s increasingly erratic thrusts. 
“Ahah, you squeezed so tight!” He gushed, “You feel so, so good…” 
Faster, faster, faster, he had to go faster. He was so close, so close. He had to fill you, he had to. He had to see his cum dripping out of you and to know that he’d filled you with all he had and you had to be filled. 
He went silent for a split second, and you knew what you were in for when his hips stuttered before going still, but you weren’t ready for the sheer amount of cum he pumped into you. He held you on his cock until he was completely done, continuing to make small ruts with his hips until he’d ridden out his orgasm to the end. There simply wasn’t room for it all inside of you, but even as it flowed out of you and down your legs and onto your sheets he continued to spill into you. You’d gone limp in his hands by the time he was done. 
You barely processed the feeling of being laid back down on your bed, but you definitely winced when Jack pulled out of you. Damn, you were already sore. Not to mention your forehead was drenched with a thick layer of sweat and your thighs were soaked with a multitude of bodily fluids that you were trying not to think about right now. 
You managed to crack an eye open when you heard Jack snickering. 
“Tired already? A shame. I had fun.” He said casually, as if the both of you had just returned from an outing and he hadn’t practically jumped you in your own home. Your only answer was an exhausted sigh. 
Jack cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. Were you really so worn out already? He wasn’t tired at all! Then again, “tired” wasn’t really something he felt…
Humans are so strange. 
He laid down beside you and draped an arm over you. When he leaned in you expected him to lick you again, but instead he brought you into a kiss. An actual kiss, the first real gesture of affection he’d given you, even if it was rather brief. He pulled away to nestle his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his laughter against your skin. 
“You’re a funny one, do you know that? I hope I get to play with you a lot more…” 
Oh, fuck. 
He wasn’t leaving, was he?
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ohimsummer · 6 months
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✎ . . .❝ WHO DID IT? ❞
—poly!satosugu xmas shenanigans, satosugu x reader, justice for satoru he just wanted to make candy canes !
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The day was going well. Splendid, even. It’s almost Christmas, and the chilly weather makes sure to remind you, flakes of snow peppering the ground and crunching beneath your boots. You’ve completed the task of some nice, last minute shopping for your husbands’ students, picking up some coffee orders, not forgetting a few of Gojo’s favorite desserts from that same coffee shop, and then you were back home in no time. Walking inside, you’re engulfed with a feeling of warmth and coziness, the smell of sugar with a hint of peppermint permeating in the air. Your call of ‘I’m back!’ suspiciously goes unanswered, but you assume your husbands are either distracted or out of earshot.
The honeyed scent of sugar grows stronger as you enter the kitchen, setting bags of gifts and groceries on the floors and countertops. Speaking of countertops…your brows knit, mouth agape in absolute shock as you really take in the center of what was once gorgeous marble. You hear Gojo’s boisterous laughter in the living room, Geto’s faint conversation underneath, and make a beeline straight for them. Upon your arrival, Geto spots you first, and the wide-eyed glance he shares between you and Gojo is very telling.
It’s a simple question.“Who did it?”
And yet getting an answer, at least from one of them, is like pulling teeth.
Satoru halts mid-sentence, turning to beam innocently at you, ignoring the bitter look in your eyes, out for blood. If Suguru’s simmering glare at his idiot counterpart is any indication, then you’ve already gotten your answer.
Said idiot is so good at playing dumb, as if something like this isn’t obviously his doing. “What’s wrong, baby?”
A small breath of exasperation leaves Geto as he takes in the interaction. He thinks Gojo is really in for it this time, he can tell by your body language alone that you’ve got some choice words for this man. Maybe you’ll actually kill him this time. Geto chuckles a good riddance, so low even he can barely hear it. Can’t afford to show too much amusement, lest he get caught in the whirlwind of your fury.
Your foot taps, impatient. Brand new countertops. Not even a month old, they told you to consider them as part of an “extra early Christmas gift”. Ruined with large, faded, circular marks right in the center, on display, and faintly reeking of peppermint.
Suguru grows hot as your furious gaze shifts to him, finger with a mind of its own as it points to Gojo. “He wanted to make candy ca–“
“What the hell, I thought we had an agreement?”
“I’m not taking the fall for this with you over that dumbass idea.”
“Dumbass? You were on board when I suggested it!”
“And that was my mistake for assuming you’d done more than five minutes of research and knew what you were doing.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to get in the spirit of Christm– ow!”
The sharp pinch on his ear leaves Satoru yelping like a hurt dog, stumbling along as you drag him into the kitchen, and Geto takes extreme joy in the small snippets of Gojo’s excuses as he fails to plead his case.
“Baby, my extremely beautiful, lovely, gorgeous wife, I just miscalculated a little, a tiny mist–“
“Mistake?” With your incredulous tone, one can only imagine the look on your face right now. “Look what you did to the countertop, Satoru, don’t come in my damn kitchen tryna be a professional chef or candy maker or whatever!”
A groan. “Technically,” and Suguru cringes immediately, head sinking back on the couch. “It’s all of our kitchen.”
The immediate silence afterward is heavy enough to weigh down a bear. Followed shortly by Satoru’s meek “Ya know what, you’re so right, baby. Your kitchen.”
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personasintro · 1 year
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Employed 01 | jjk
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⏤𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴; Being independent while living the harsh reality of adulthood is sparked by arrogance in the form of the most infuriating man you've ever met.
⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: ceo!jungkook x reader
⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, enemies to lovers
⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: explicit language
⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 16.4k+
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banner by: @archivedkookie // thank you so much again for making this for me! ♡
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index (to be added)
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El: I think I'm drunk again
"think or know?"
El: know then
El: turns out I didn't have sex yesterday 
El: god I already masturbated twice today!!!
You could survive without that information, a snicker leaving your mouth at your best friend's messages. She had a date yesterday. Well, you're not sure if it was officially a date or she just hung out with one of her co-workers she's been flirting with for weeks now. 
Elaine broke up with her then boyfriend recently. This co-worker of hers has caught her eyes even when she was in a relationship (with a total douchebag). Not mentioning he's still in a relationship with his girlfriend. They're not on good terms either but still. It's complicated and who are you to judge?
"make it three then" 
El: it's not helping :/
"because he's all you're thinking about"
That one is true. He's been a topic number one in any of your conversations.
El: that's true lol
El: but I'm kinda scared to get involved with someone from my work
"I'm not surprised, it usually is like that"
"but look, you're never gonna find out if you don't try it"
While you're trying to be as supportive as a best friend can be, you do have your own opinion about her little shenanigans. But in the end, you do want her to be happy and not be depressed because of her two failed relationships from before. This guy at least seems to be treating her right and he's a proper gentleman. Not a red flag which cannot be said about the previous two ones. 
El: so you think I should give it a chance?
Jumping from one relationship to another is... you're not sure what to think of it. Everyone's different and you try to keep being open-minded. If he makes her happy and she wants to try it, why not? 
You know you would be more wary, especially after a heartbreak. You would focus on yourself first, recharge and regain self-love or whatever people do after a break-up. 
Before you can type your reply, another message pops up.
El: because he treats me right and everything's perfect... I'm just scared of that one fact of working together
"well working with friends or family never does any good, the same goes for relationships"
That's a fact. In most cases it's the worst anyone can do. 
"but try it if you feel like that's the right thing"
You're not one of those friends who give false hope. You're honest, try to be without getting too honest which could potentially hurt someone. Elaine is a wonderful woman. You've known her for years and have been best friends just as long. It's unfortunate the majority of your communication is done through messages and occasional video calls. Ever since you moved out of the country, you've been away from everyone. 
However, you knew what you would lose in order to pursue a different life you always wanted.
El: what about you tho? have you found yourself a job yet?
The question you've found unpleasant back home – and you still do. 
"no :("
El: don't worry! you just got there
El: I'm sure you'll find one soon x
Sighing, you wish Elaine's words would come true. Preferably very soon.
You send her a quick thank you with a heart emoji before someone slides onto the opposite seat. Met with a wide grin and crinkled eyes at the ends, your before neutral expression turns into a surprise and happiness. You didn't hear him coming!
"Hobi!" you greet him after not seeing his face for a few days.
He's been your friend for quite some time now. Actually, it's safe to say he's been a huge help ever since you decided to move here. It lasts until now and without his help, you're not sure if you would've ever had the guts to leave the comfort of familiarity of your country.
"Hey," he greets, laughing a little as the air becomes more cheerful. Or maybe it's only you and the fact he's no stranger to you. 
Having prying eyes on you almost all the time is still a little uncomfortable. As if they knew you're a foreigner right out of the bat.
Hoseok chose to meet up at his favorite place. He's a little late, but you don't have the heart to scold him for it. You know it's only your anxiety of having to be here alone, feeling strangers' eyes on you. Luckily, you did the typical trick. Staring into your phone, minding your business and trying to act unbothered. 
"Have you ordered anything yet?"
"Ah, no," you shake your head, "Was waiting for you."
You had to tell the older lady to give you more time since your friend should be arriving anytime soon. 
"Sorry for running late, traffic here is no joke." he apologizes, shrugging his overshirt as he hangs it over the bag of his stool.
"It's fine." you tell him, catching his amused expression which causes you to purse your lips. 
"No scolding?"
"I was about to but I changed my mind."
"Of course you were." he laughs.
Before another word can be uttered and a fit of giggles surround the round table, what you assume is the owner – the same lady that asked you for your order earlier – comes back with the same kind smile. Hoseok says both your orders, already knowing your usual choice since you're here the third time already. Like you said, it's his favorite place to eat. Korean barbecue is definitely worth every penny. 
"I didn't wanna tell you on the phone but–" He giggles when he notices your wary look. "You haven't found a job yet, right?" He makes sure.
For some reason, your cheeks heat up in guilt. Guilt from not being able to find out despite living here for two weeks. Okay, it might not be a long time but the whole process of finding a job is way harder. You've been through something similar back in home. Having to experience this all over again feels very saddening. You would lie if you told you haven't had any expectations. Of course, you know it's not going to be easy but still. You hoped it would be easier.
You're a little fucked up from the situation back home. The months you waited to get a job and then lose it in the span of one month. Wasn't your fault, but it still hurts though. 
Shortly said, you just can't allow yourself to experience that again. 
"No." you mumble, placing your elbow on the table as you prop your chin on your palm. 
"Perfect," he says, met with a raised brow from you. "I have a friend."
"Oh god."
"No, listen to me," he presses. 
Hoseok has a lot of friends. Different types of friends. While you haven't been able to meet most of them (which you're sure is not even possible since he's got a lot of them), you've heard of them. 
"He owns a company. A very prestigious one," 
That has your eyes widening.
"He's been looking for an assistant, told me about it when we went out for a whiskey."
"Since when do you drink whiskey?"
"Not the point," he grits, "Anyway, he just mentioned it very briefly but then an idea sparked when I was home. How did I not think of it sooner? Right, like–"
"Hobi." You motion for him to shorten it and to get to the fucking point. 
"Right," he laughs, "So–you should work for him."
You blink and stare, breathing out a chuckle. "Just like that?"
"Well, no." he frowns a little, "You should probably go to the interview–but honestly, you have nothing to be scared of."
"But assistant? What are the requirements? What about–"
"He's gonna tell you everything. We don't talk about work much and he only briefly mentioned looking for an assistant. But you're great and skillful. What else do you need to be an assistant?"
"I don't think it's that easy, Hobi. Especially if it's some big company like you said."
Hoseok leans back, shrugging. "He's my friend. He's gonna take you in." he promises and waves his hand, sending you a little assurement along with a wide supportive smile. 
You're not sure you're assured at all. But you have nothing to lose. You told Elaine to try it because else she wouldn't know. Even though this is not about a relationship at all, there's some similarity to the situation. 
And you're going to listen to your own advice.
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Hoseok wasn't lying when he said about his friend's company. That alone made your stomach shrink with unease and the only thing that calmed you was the reminder of their friendship. Regardless of this successful friend of his and what he said about his business, you expected a decent and nice building. 
Not a freaking tallest and biggest building on a street full of companies. 
Holy shit. 
That's your first reaction you luckily keep to yourself while you stare at the tall building. Oh god. You're ten seconds from running away like a coward but you can't. You simply can't let a stupid stress affect you. This is a great opportunity for you. 
Plus, not to mention the lengths Hoseok went through to get you a chance to have an interview here. He talked to his friend because of you, purely because of that you can't disappoint him as well. 
Staring at the building, it screams of wealth even from its exterior. Is it stupid to say it kind of looks a little intimidating? Sure, your nerves could play a role in this as well. It looks like the entire building is covered in glass, in one you can't see through from the outside. Plus it looks super clean. 
Do they get it cleaned often? You laugh at your thoughts, releasing a breath you've been holding before you finally start walking toward the entrance. 
The only info Hoseok gave you was time and date. He told you there's nothing to worry about and you'll find your way around. Despite the lack of information, he tried to assure you. But walking up the stairs, you mentally curse at your friend. He might've done that because he didn't want you all stressed out, but it has a complete opposite effect.
So you remind yourself of his words of assurement and just go for it. 
The tall and huge door is automatic. Of course it is. It opens as soon as you're close enough, fast enough so you don't have to halt your steps which happens often with automatic doors. 
Scent of freshness and (novelty?) hits you pleasantly as soon as you're inside. It's everything you see in big movies. A lot of space, minimalistic but pretty interior. Everything is modern and even people working here are dressed elegantly, in dark blue color that is matched with white. 
"Miss? Where are you going?"
Almost jumping at the sudden presence beside you, you see a bulky man with a security tag attached to his elegant shirt. Even security has elegant attire? Holy fuck, Hoseok, where did you send me?
You're impressed, almost too impressed but that only sparks your stress even more. 
Especially when you see the man patiently waiting for your response. 
"Umm," Great. "I've got a job interview here?"
He scans you as if he's searching for any hints of lying. What is this? A fucking pentagon? 
"They'll give you directions at the reception desk. Please, continue past the detector." he says professionally, pointing at the detector system you've only seen at airports.
"Thank you." You try to send him a polite smile, your legs suddenly feeling a little wobbly in those heels. 
You chose an elegant outfit, a nice soft pink set with a touch of a few decent silver accessories. It's not too much but it screams of elegance which suits their theme. You paid extra attention to your make-up and hair, putting all your effort and not only because it distracted you today. 
The reception desk is at the very end, not hard to miss as a huge logo of the company is lit up and attached to the marble wall. There is a young woman aware of your presence immediately, welcoming you there before asking what you are looking for. If they're surprised to see you here, they don't show it as much. 
After explaining you're here for the job interview, she asks for your name and after she checks your information, she gives you directions to get there. There are a lot of employers, busy doing their job as some of them wait for an elevator. There are three of them! 
Other than that, nobody really pays you any attention as a silent chatter involving business resounds inside the elevator. Some of them get out sooner, some of them wait until it's their turn.
Number twelve lits up as a robotic voice informs you of the floor you situate. You get out, not quite sure where else to go as you look left and right. A little confused, the young receptionist hasn't offered any further information beside getting out on floor twelve. That's until you see a group of young females gathered on the left side of the building. Getting a feeling this is it, you walk toward them.
There is another receptionist desk, a few chairs and leather sofa in the hallway as all of them seem to be waiting. This is it.
"Welcome, miss. Are you here for the interview?" Someone asks, catching your attention as you notice another receptionist with the same attire like the one that greeted you earlier. 
This one has short hair, perfectly straightened and styled.
"Oh, hello. Yes I am." you respond lightly as she nods.
"Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you a glass of water?" she asks after she points toward the group of women that are waiting. 
"No, thank you." you smile, luckily finding yourself a free spot where you can sit down. 
It's interesting to see different types of interested parties. You notice how each of them are women and you wonder if that was a requirement or it's because of something else. 
Either way, they're all dressed perfectly and definitely put their best effort. Again, Hoseok said this is a good and big company, so it makes sense everyone probably wants to work here. It's not like you don't feel like you don't fit it, even though it's stupid and they most likely want this job just as much as you do. However, some of them look confident and determined to even be here. They came prepared. 
You purely judge it by their confidence that oozes out of them, without them having to talk at all. 
And then there's a few of them that look nervous, even though they try their best to hide it and match other's energy. 
As much as there's Hoseok enthusiasm about his friend giving you the job, nothing's sure and the huge queue just proves it.
You definitely feel like you could relate more to the latter. You're a little nervous and everyone's eyes are on the door when it gets open, another woman getting out of there. She greets the receptionist before walking away with confident steps, her heels clacking against the marble floor.
You gulp, curling your toes in your heels.
You sit there and wait. Not going to lie, you think about pulling out your phone and at least entertaining yourself with the device until it's your turn. However, no one seems to be doing that and you definitely don't want to give an impression that you don't want to be here. You can't be sure.
There are eyes everywhere, including cameras that you've noticed are in every corner. They don't miss anything. Every fuck up there possibly could be, they're going to see.
But it does make sense. They need to be protected.
One thing about you is that you don't like waiting. You can be patient but after a while you get bored. You've watched your surroundings for the past forty minutes – what else is there to do? 
Your boredom is bound to end eventually and when your name is called, you spring onto your feet. They must've sent your information to the receptionist on this floor, since she never asked for your name. But that's the least of your worries when you finally walk toward the other room. Too focused on not stumbling and doing something embarrassing, you focus on your steps until you get inside the room where everyone has been walking out of. 
It's huge.
This is no meeting room or room designed for job interviews. This is an office. A huge one with a freaking seating area. Your mouth is agape as you notice a similar design the whole building has. The only difference is the view over the entire city and little coziness this office has. It's slightly more personal without having any personal pictures or anything – at least that's what you've quickly caught onto. 
It's hard to navigate around the room, you're not sure where to go. 
"Are you going to come in or not?"
A deep voice resounds around the corner making your eyes widen and stomach shrink. Embarrassed of being called out at checking this place out and clearly not moving, you clear your throat and reach the corner.
A man. 
He stands behind a desk, eyes focused down as his fingers briefly touch the stack of paper spreaded on the dark oak desk.
Before you can utter a single word, politely greet whoever this man is, he speaks again.
"Are you mute?"
What the–
"No?" you almost scoff, frowning a little which causes him to finally lift his gaze up.
He stares you up and down, scoffing silently under his breath. His dark eyes are one of the first things you notice on him. Even from a distance, you can make out the dominance in them. He's tall and has broad shoulders which are definitely more defined in the white button-up. The black suit hugs his form perfectly, like it's been designed for him.
You're not stupid. This man is important. And young. He's too young to be the CEO. Don't they have someone on their team to do the job interviews anyway? Whoever he is, he's clearly confident and full of himself. Perhaps you're mistaken but well...
He cocks his brow at you, eyes motioning at the two chairs in front of his desk. He's telling you to get there and sit down. 
You listen, despite your eyes attached to his form as he no longer watches you. He sits down, making himself comfortable as he peeks into the papers. Your full name comes out of his mouth, reading it aloud as the question sits in the air for a moment.
"Yes, that's me." you jump in to answer, not wanting to make this any more awkward.
You're still slightly perplexed by the not so pleasant start. Suddenly, you understand why most of the women out there were nervous. 
While you sit down and have him right in front of you just a few feet away, you try not to stare too much. He is young. He could potentially be Hoseok's friend. 
"Have you brought any documents with you? CV? Documents of your skills and diplomas? Anything?"
Gulping, you nod before you pull out your finished CV that Hoseok has helped you with. 
He takes it from you, flipping through the pages as he stays quiet. His face is hard to read. A frown clouds most of his features and he looks stern. Too stern for such a young male.
He briefly glances at you, while you play with your nails out of his eyesight. God. What was that look for? You know you're not overly qualified and you haven't graduated from a prestigious school. Your hope of getting this job is slowly dying down as he remains quiet before he tosses the papers onto his desk.
He leans back, glancing somewhere above your head as he sighs. "Why do you think you're suitable for this position?"
Okay, you got this. Fuck, you hate this question. You need money, clearly.
"You know, most people don't even get a chance to get to the job interview stage. Not people with your CV and education history."
"Pardon?" Your response is immediate. With an edge to your tone.
However, he is unfazed. 
"Why are you here, Miss–" He stops before glancing at the papers again before saying your surname. 
This dude is fucking–
Forget he's the hottest piece of man you've ever seen. You can tell right out of bat he's arrogant, a little too arrogant. You know he probably has different types of people coming into his office, you're aware your education record isn't something mind-blowing... but he can still be polite and not so rude.
And before your attitude can come to the surface, you remind yourself why you're here.
You need this.
This is your chance.
You've been staying in your AirBnB ever since you came here. Since you have no job yet, you can't exactly rent any place. So you're paying for the apartment that's your temporary home with your saved up money. You need to find a job and then a place to live in as soon as possible. 
"My friend told me about this job. He knows the CEO. Maybe you could ask him, he probably knows of me."
He knows the CEO? Really, Y/N? You stupid–It makes you sound as if you're completely relying on your friend knowing the CEO. Which is not entirely true. Still, you chose your words diplomatically and maybe this man could change his attitude since you're coming from – is it an inner circle? – or in the worst case, he's–
"I'm the CEO."
Of course he is. 
Fuck. 
Isn't he too young to be running this place? 
"Oh," you mutter, "Well, Hoseok mentioned you're looking for an assistant and–"
"And you think just because you know my friend you're suitable for this position?"
"No!" you exclaim, maybe too loudly which has you shut your mouth immediately as a frown makes it onto your face. 
Minus the fact he called Hoseok his friend, when he's your friend too, he sounds almost amused and definitely rude. 
"I had people graduating from Harvard coming in here before you."
Congratulations, you mentally snark.
What does he want you to say? 
I'm sorry I wasn't rich and smart enough to graduate from Harvard? 
"All I meant was that Hoseok mentioned you're looking for an assistant and that I should try it," 
You completely miss out the part where Hoseok was entirely confident he's going to give you the job. From the looks of it, he's far from it. 
"I may not have the greatest experience in this field, or I haven't had the luck to have an outstanding education record, but I'm hard-working and I learn fast."
"Hard-working and learning fast is not enough." he informs you.
"What else is there to do to be an assistant?" you ask, your mouth shutting up once again when you see the look he gives you. Wow, he has a very intense glare. "I mean–what does it require?"
"A lot of things. Executive assistant does not only perform administrative tasks, but there's a lot of research and tasks beside it. Not to mention I need someone I can rely on whenever."
"I'm a reliable person."
"Hoseok's word is not enough." he grits through his teeth.
You frown again, starting to get pissed off at his attitude. "I can prove it to you."
"Why should I give you a chance?"
"So I can prove it to you?" you deadpan, his glare dropping as he scoffs.
"You're awful at answering questions." he notes, mumbling under his breath almost as if it's not aimed for your ears.
But you hear him regardless, pressing your lips together as you straighten yourself. 
There's silence that follows. It lasts long, almost too long so you consider walking out of here. His phone vibrates as he reaches toward the device and sighs eventually. 
He puts his phone to his ear, answering with a dry Yes.
He listens for a moment. Frowning as he leans against his chair and looks at the ceiling.
"Yes, she's here."
Hoseok.
He's calling him. 
That has your attention as the young male whose name remains unknown for now glances back at you. With the same stoic expression, of course.
"Ho–"
He sighs, pinches his brow. He's listening, rolling his eyes here and there while you find it amusing. Though you don't dare to smile or even give him some sort of reaction that he might see.
"You owe me." he grits before ending the call. 
He tosses the phone back where it was, not looking pleased at all.
"I'm doing this because Hoseok is my friend."
You stare, ignoring the way your chest clenches with sadness for some reason. Or maybe it's a disappointment and embarrassment. 
"You have five working days to show me your potential. If you mess up, you're out of here."
While your not old self would tell him (very happily) fuck you, you know this is your chance to prove more things and not just to others, but to yourself as well. Even having this company's name in your CV is going to be a major help. 
"Thank you." you tell him instead, standing up as he snatches your documents off his desk and hands it to you.
You snatch it back, offering him a tight smile when he glares at the obvious attitude. 
"Here's the contract. Read it, do not sign it yet. Just an idea of what's awaiting for you." he explains, standing up. 
You feel like nothing can prepare you for what's awaiting for you. 
"I'll make sure you're not going to regret it. I mean it–I know I'm not the perfect candidate to work in your company, but I'll prove to you with my hard work that I could be. And not only because of Hoseok."
He stays silent, simply watching you. Not looking sold at all. 
But you nudge your ego away and accept the challenge this man might be. 
"Thank you again, Mr..."
His jaw clenches. 
"Jeon."
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The familiar beeping he has grown used to and is a part of his everyday life, rings around his silent office. It rips his attention off the papers in front of him. With a single click, he accepts the call from the front desk on this floor.
"Mr. Jeon, I'm sorry to disturb you but you've got a visitor." The feminine voice that is somehow a part of his everyday life as well resounds. 
Brows pinching together, he stares at the phone with a slightly irritated look. Everyone knows they should not disturb him when he's in the middle of reviewing potential deals. He likes to stay focused. And even Soyeon's automatic apology did nothing.
"I don't have any visits scheduled." he responds, unimpressed and indeed bothered by the interruption. 
The young woman that has been working for him almost since the very beginning keeps herself composed, not showing how intimidated she is by him. 
"I'm aware, sir. But he's saying he's your friend?"
"My friend?" he deadpans. 
There's only one person who could come unannounced, enough to disturb him from–
"Jung Hoseok?" she asks unsurely.
Of course it's Jung Hoseok. 
No one barely comes here for visits. Everyone – and by that he means everyone that knows him personally or professionally – knows he doesn't appreciate visits. Not before his lunch and not even after. He's here to work. 
A sigh makes it past his lips as he scratches his eyebrow. "Send him in."
Despite the lack of visits he barely gets – just because he doesn't want them – he still made sure people that know him are on the list. In case there is some kind of emergency and for some reason can't be contacted. You never know. He takes precautions. 
Jung Hoseok is one of those people on the list. 
But the difference is no one really abuses that kind of privilege that gets him through security. Basically gives him a free pass around the building. 
"I get it from here, sweetheart. Thank you. He's my friend." He hears from behind the door, a chuckle of disbelief makes it out of his lips before his office door is open.
His receptionist stutters over her words but before she can make a proper sentence, his not by much older friend closes the door with a thud. Arms outstretched and wide grin, he stares at him unimpressed. 
"Surprise!" Hoseok chimes, striding toward his desk as if he owns this place.
Even with his presence here, Hoseok doesn't come here often. In fact, he can't remember when was the last time his friend visited him here. But out of people coming here unannounced, Hoseok makes the most sense. 
It can be seen he's not here often, momentarily ripping his gaze off the frowning and intimidating CEO to admire the spacious office. 
"Indeed," he mutters.
"Oh, come on. At least look like you're happy to see me!"
"Why pretend?" he simply asks, the older pursing his lips as he rolls his eyes. "Is there a reason for your... surprising visit?"
"Of course there is," he confirms, slouching himself in one of the chairs. He sighs in content, a look of surprise at how comfortable that chair is. "Alright, I'm sorry for popping in just like that–but I was around and since you barely answer my calls–"
"I'm busy."
"I know you're, Mr. CEO."
He rolls his eyes at Hoseok.
"So I came to you."
"Why? We saw each other last week."
"I'm gonna ignore that comment," he remarks, causing the younger one to shrug. "Anyway. I thought this would be better to discuss in person."
He sighs, leaning against his chair. "Just spit it out. I'm really busy."
"Okay," he says, propping his ankle against his knee as he shakes his foot. A habit of his friend that he noticed a long time ago. "When we were hanging out, you mentioned something about being in need of an assistant."
"What? You wanna be my assistant?" he jokes, amused by the idea. 
Hoseok rolls his eyes and almost flips him off. But then he remembers his visit here has a purpose. He would rather not risk anything. 
"No, Jungkook. I do not want to be your assistant," he emphasizes, causing his lips to curl into an amused grin. "But I know someone that might wanna."
"Hoseok," Jungkook sighs, "I don't want any of your–whoever that might be–in my company."
"What does that mean?" he gasps.
"Your choice of friends or people you know are... questionable."
"Okay, that's actually very rude!" 
Jungkook shrugs. "It's true."
"How did you know I'm talking about my friend?"
"I didn't, I just called them that to keep it respectful."
"It's not one of my hook-ups!"
"Spit it out. I don't have time for this nonsense." Jungkook sighs, staring at the ceiling. Hoseok is really testing his patience. He's hungry and with a lot of work in front of him.
"My friend moved here recently and has been searching for a job. I thought you could give her a chance, I can totally vouch for her."
Jungkook blinks at the ceiling, staring down at his friend without having to move. "What this friend of yours accomplished?"
Hoseok's eyes widen and he almost stutters. "What do you–"
"Her skills? Education?"
Hoseok is the one who just blinks as Jungkook sits up straight with again, unimpressed look. "I'm not employing just anyone here, Hoseok. This is a successful company for a reason."
"Well–I don't know about any of that but I know she's hard-working and–"
"You don't know and you're here asking me to give her a job?"
"I'm asking you to give her a chance." Hoseok corrects.
"Hoseok, you're my friend–I...I don't hate you–" Hoseok glares at him. "But no."
"Jungkook!" he whines.
"I don't know this person and from the looks of it, you don't know either."
"Just because I don't know her entire resume doesn't mean she's a stranger. Just FYI–" He frowns, "But please. Just give her a chance. I need your help."
Jungkook lifts a brow. 
"You know I never ask you for anything."
That one's true. 
Whatever power Jungkook has in his young age – the age of twenty-eight – Hoseok has never asked him for anything. Let alone use him. He's the most valuable friend he has. Not that he would ever say it out loud. Not in usual situations anyway. Hoseok is aware of that.
"She's been trying to get a job ever since she came here. She lives in–"
"I don't care," he interrupts, scratching his forehead as he tries to soothe the wrinkles there that are caused by frowning. "She probably can't find a job because she's just not... good."
"That's not true," Hoseok quickly jumps to remark. "You know how hard it is to find a job nowadays."
It's silent for a few moments.
"Please."
"Don't." Jungkook stops him, closing his eyes.
"Just give her a chance."
He already curses himself mentally for this. Perhaps he feels a little embarrassed for Hoseok.
"Fine."
He cringes when he hears a loud squeal of excitement.
"Just one interview. That's all I can promise you." he informs him firmly.
"Thank you!" Hoseok sits up straight, his sneakers thumping against the floor. 
"Now go, I've got to work."
He doesn't argue, right on his feet as he can't stop grinning at the annoyed man. 
"Soyeon will give you further information." he mumbles under his breath.
"Great! Well, I would ask anyway."
Of course he would. 
"Don't forget to eat."
"Okay, get out now." Jungkook mumbles quickly, ignoring the teasing smirk from his friend as he strides out of his office confidently.
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Hoseok is at your place. If that can be called that.
You're only sure of that because one of the lights stopped working, the bulb burned out. Rather than having to deal with any additional expenses, because you're never too sure and it's better to be safe than sorry, you asked Hoseok if he could come today and change it.
Plus, you need someone to help you with the stress you know your job interview would bring you. And you were goddamn right.
However, that's not the only thing you're bringing with yourself.
Since you gave Hoseok the second card and code to your temporary home, you knew he would be there already. You told him to wait up for you, way before you had the opportunity to meet his friend.
That man can't be anyone's friend. You doubt it.
The moment you get your shoes off and meet Hoseok's sheepish grin, he has no time to react as you reach for one of the cushions and start hitting him repeatedly. He squeals as if his life depends on it, though no real damage is done as your frustration takes over.
"That. Was. Fucking. Awful!" You say with each hit, finally getting the cushion snatched from you as he tosses it back onto the couch behind you.
"What happened?"
Glaring at him, you see it in his eyes. The hidden glints of knowing, even the tiniest tint of apology. 
"Why didn't you tell me he's fucking arrogant and rude?"
His cheeks heaten up as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "He can be rough around the edges, but he's not that bad."
"No!" you yell, "He's even worse!"
"Okay, let's sit down and talk." he tries, giggling nervously as he leads you to sit down.
You do, huffing out as you cross your arms over your chest. The feeling of embarrassment and close to humiliation keeps coming back every time you think about the entire moment you spent in that building. You've never felt more like shit before. He made you question your abilities and skills, judged you by your resume within seconds. He made you feel like you're nothing.
Not mentioning he's not interested in hiring you at all. He made sure to let you know that. 
"Y/N, come on..." Hoseok speaks after a moment, softly and sorry just as he looks.
"Why didn't you tell me? I came there and–" You don't bring yourself to say how hopeful you were when coming there, despite being nervous. "You promised me it's going to be okay." you add way quieter, embarrassed to admit it out loud. 
It sounds childish but Hoseok was the one who sparked hope and confidence in you. He assured you everything is going to work out. Of course you knew it couldn't be all true. There is always a space for failure or something not going according to plan, but this? This is your worst experience in months. Definitely takes the cake for the worst experience here in Seoul. 
"I'm sorry," You hear, his features softening as he squeezes your forearm. "I knew if i told you how he can be, you wouldn't go there. I didn't want you to miss this opportunity."
"What opportunity?" you scoff. 
While you realize he wanted to help, what's the purpose of it if his friend isn't exactly one that wants to help?
"He made me feel stupid."
"No," Hoseok argues, earning a glare from you. He wasn't even there! How can he argue about that? "He's just very selective with his staff."
"Oh, trust me, I figured. I mean, he wasn't exactly secretive about that."
Hoseok nervously laughs and rubs your arms. "But besides that, how did it go?"
"I–" you stop, thinking for a moment. "I don't know if it was me or you, but somehow I convinced him to let me prove myself."
"Y/N, that's amazing!" Hoseok yells excitedly, receiving a pointed look from you.
"I mean... it's worth a shot," you mutter, "But I feel like I'm gonna get fired before stepping in there."
"Listen to me," Hoseok says, scooting closer. Straightening himself, he makes sure you see his persistent features and the seriousness behind them. "You're gonna rock it there. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Jungkook can be difficult and I can't promise he's going to be all sweet, but if you'll do your job well then everything's gonna be fine. Trust yourself."
"Hobi, I trusted myself and coming back from there, I feel like utter shit."
"Come on now..."
"No, you didn't see how he looked at me. He told me people that graduated from Harvard come there looking for a job. Do you get it? Harvard. Or a fucking Yale!"
"Yeah..." he mumbles, "I told you he's successful. So is his company."
"No shit."
Hoseok chuckles, "That doesn't change the fact that you're good. You'll get better."
Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel panic arising at the thought of going back there. You don't have a choice though. You can't live here for any longer and you need a job desperately. 
"You're the only one that thinks this. And sorry, but that's not enough."
What you mean is that it won't affect his friend's decision in any way. Hoseok is no help at the moment. He got you the job interview which of course has helped, and you will let him know that as soon as your panic fades away a bit. But from now on, it's just you. 
You'll need to prove yourself.
To wipe that arrogant look from Jeon's face.
You were up for a challenge, but this one seems to be the biggest yet. 
Hoseok laughs at your words, knowing very well what you mean. Trying to light up the mood, he pokes your side with his elbow. "I'll beat him up if he's gonna treat you wrong."
"Sorry but from the looks of it, it seems like you're the one who would get his ass beaten."
Snickering at Hoseok's loud gasp – the one you know its purpose is to lighten up the mood once again – you can admit that out loud. The arrogant prick has muscles on him. You could see it from behind that desk alone.
"I'm prepared to take the risks from you." he jokes, teasing you.
"Oh, shut up!"
He laughs loudly, the ringing sound causing your lips to twitch. All the amusement is gone as his face pops up in front of you again. So are you reminded of the negative experience you unfortunately went through not even an hour ago. 
"No offense to your friend, but he's a fucking asshole." you spit, not even thinking of how Hoseok can feel about you cursing at his supposedly friend. You should've been more considerate but rather than being met with offended Hoseok, you hear his laugh again.
"Well, sorry to say this but you need this asshole."
The worst part of it is that he's absolutely right.
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You made sure no disaster would happen from the beginning. Like for example, waking up late on your first day of work. Just to be safe, you set up around four alarms to make sure you won't be late.
Besides not eating anything from all the nerves, you've received an encouraging message from Hoseok who puts a lot of faith in you. At least someone does. You certainly stopped the moment you met Mr. Jeon.
Or Jungkook. Like Hoseok calls him.
It feels weird to put a proper name on him. First name, is what you mean. It's weird to even call him by it in your head. There's undeniable respect (or a fear) you have of him. Even by talking to him for a few minutes, it seems like he's going to pop up the moment you call him by his first name in your mind. 
With an empty stomach, minus the glass of water you gulped down before leaving, you get on your way to Jeon Investments Inc. The ride in a cab is full of anxiety and no matter how many times you try to steady your breathing, you feel like you're on the verge of a panic attack. Even the poor driver seems to be concerned as he asks you if you're okay. 
Turns out, after you read the contract once you found the courage, there might be a lot of things you're not prepared for. Minus all the professional terms and conditions you're supposed to comply with, you feel lost. Utterly lost. And fucked.
You've got many questions. Once you ask, you know you will come out as inexperienced and even dumb. Being an assistant is not just taking calls and dealing with emails. That much you understood after reading the ten pages of a very professionally and legally written contract. 
There is so much expected from you and being truthfully honest, you're not sure if you can make it. 
Curiosity got the best of you and after gulping down a whole glass of beer – let's ignore the fact you bought it to yourself even despite your financial state – you of course, googled your boss. Can you even call him that yet? Is he officially your boss? No contract has been signed. Mr. Jeon made sure of it. 
There are many articles about Jeon Jungkook. Most of it is just boring and professional stuff. It contains the same information – and there are not that many to begin with – but from the looks of it, it seems like Mr. Jeon is one lucky fucker. Has been born into a wealthy family and like in the famous books and movies, has inherited the family company. The man is practically swallowed in money.
He's successful. And well known amongst business people. Surely, he's no stranger in this particular circle of people.
But at least this is different from all the books and money. Because even though he's successful and has many official photos from different events, he's no celebrity. His life is purely private and no one digs in it. Which is probably for the best for him. This man is practically mysterious.
You're reminded by your conversation with Hoseok after you calmed down after your breakdown. 
"How did you even meet a guy like him?"
"Jungkook? Ah, I've known him since he was a kid. You could say we're a distant family."
"What?!" You screeched at the thought of it. And you have no idea why. 
How did you find out about it only now?
"Well, my great aunt actually married Jungkook's mom's cousin?" He questioned almost unsurely as he frowned in thought before he nodded. "Yeah. It's a little mixed up and we're not really blood related but yeah."
Thinking about it now, it makes sense. 
Where else would Hoseok meet someone like him? Without a doubt, he must've attended some private college and surely, all types of schools before that. God, he's definitely one of those people that were in a private daycare! You can only assume and you don't want to put any stereotypes on him, but based on what you know about him, he lives a different life than you and most people for sure. 
Who owns millions worth company at the age of––How old is he? 
That's something you forgot to ask Hoseok. 
The cab ride is awfully fast. Which you should be glad for. You're ten minutes earlier which is definitely better than being late. Plus, it will take you some time to get to the top floor. Especially if you'll have to go through the same process with security like before.
You do. 
The security makes you do the same routine like you had to go through when you first got here. It is their job and you fully understand that, though you're a little annoyed when they eye you as if you're carrying a gun underneath all your clothing. After all of that is done and you do have to inform your arrival at the front desk, you're finally allowed to go on the lift. 
You're not even sure if you work at the same floor where Mr. Jeon is, but guess you will find out. Despite your inner nerves and anxiety crawling up your throat, you try to appear confident as if you're not ten seconds from a mental breakdown. 
Your presence is luckily ignored, everyone seems to be on their way to work as most of them exchange greetings. Since you don't know anyone and you're not familiar with any of their faces, you remain silent unless you share eye contact with someone. You have no problem politely greeting anyone. It does put you a little at ease when most employees give you the tiniest tilt of a smile. 
The floor that you're slightly familiar with is less empty than you remember it to be, but there are still a few people walking down the halls. Getting to the front desk, you wait up there when you find it empty. Not trying to get nervous because of it, you keep looking around. You definitely look out of place. No doubt there. 
Someone gets out of the backroom and the female you're already familiar with, gets behind the desk. It doesn't take too long for her to notice you and when her eyes fall upon you, you make sure to greet her and explain why you are here. 
You're not sure if she's informed of your purpose here but she nods regardless.
"Mr. Jeon is not expected to arrive for the next hour. But that doesn't concern you, at least not now. First, we have to give you an attire."
Oh, that's right. 
Everyone has a certain dress code and since you haven't received any clothes, or instruction what to wear, you wore something work appropriate. Something similar you wore to the job interview.
"Come with me." she says with a little smile, motioning you to follow her as she leads you down the hall. 
She stops, pulling out a card from her pocket as she attaches it to the scanner. 
Opening one of the doors that is similar to the next dozen ones you've passed by, you walk inside. It's a small sized room, compared to the big halls and enormous office you were interviewed in. There's nothing special about it, though you wonder what this room is for. Besides a transparent circle shaped glass table and tall sized dressers, there's not much in here. 
Still, the room is designed well and goes with the rest of the company's aesthetic. In the corner you notice a small kitchen cabinet. There is a coffee machine and a table next to the cabinet with two stools. It seems like a breakroom but you're not sure. It seems... small compared to what this company is. 
The drawer being open is heard as the female that is yet to be introduced to you, asks your size. You answer her and watch in awe as she pulls out clothing. 
"Do you prefer pants or a skirt?"
A little taken aback, you look at her and notice her wearing a skirt. Well, you did shave your legs. "Skirt." you respond before thinking it through. 
"You can wear whatever is more comfortable to you. Mr. Jeon isn't too stern about women wearing skirts and it's completely up to us. Of course, you can change it whenever you want. You don't have to wear skirts all the time," she explains as she sets the pile of clothing that matches everyone's attire on the glass table. 
"You can wear your set of clothes too, they don't have to be company's. Some employees prefer wearing this since it saves money. But you're free to buy and wear your own clothes as long as it meets our dress code. Nothing too revealing and in the dark colors, so black or dark blue,"
You try to give attention to every word she says and you desperately let too much information sink in. Her mouth just won't stop.
"The heels you've on are fine. That isn't provided by the company, though we do have some emergency options in the dresser there," She points at one of the dressers. "You buy your own heels, that is something the company gives you money for every two months. It's added as an extra in your paycheck."
Luxury. 
"This room is not an official break room. That's somewhere else, I can take you there," She says when she glances at her watch. "This is mainly just an emergency room when you need to change clothes. It's almost like a storage room. But you can come here and make yourself coffee. I prefer to do that sometimes because it's close to my desk and it's less crowded. No one really comes in here. It's not used as much."
You nod as she glances around.
"The windows are tinted, so no one can see inside. So don't worry about the lack of curtains. You can change your clothes here, it's safe."
"Thank you."
"Very well then. I'll let you get changed. You can put your clothes back in that dresser in the corner and get them back when you clock off."
"Okay, thank you."
And with that, she spins on her heels and walks out of the room. She closes the door after her to give you some privacy. Not wasting any time, you quickly change your clothes and do everything based on what information she told you. The clothes fit and surprisingly, it's very comfortable as well. 
Your hands caress the material of your skirt and without doubt, it's clearly expensive.
Adjusting your hair, you walk out of the room to find her waiting for you. Once she sees you, she wastes zero time and starts leading you elsewhere. You have a lot to catch on.
She briefly starts pointing at the countless doors, explaining what's behind them. As much as you listen to her and try to remember everything she's saying, there's no way you will remember all of it by the time she's done. 
Passing through the glassed big room with a long table and dozens of chairs, she introduces it as one of the meeting rooms. 
"It's the most used one. Big meetings and contracts are signed there." 
There is also a big projector screen on one side of the wall with the greatest view of the city. 
She points to restrooms, not wasting time in going in there as she reminds you there's not much time. 
This girl is like a robot. She says everything fast and there's no hint of doubt or anything. You wonder how long it took her to learn everything. There really is no way someone is able to know all of this in a day. But rather than being met with any sign of empathy, she keeps showing you around and throwing new information on you from every side. 
"As you might have noticed, I work at the front desk on this floor. We will mainly work together, but your job as an assistant is closer to Mr. Jeon. Whatever you will have to deal with and prepare, I will inform you about. It's your job to make sure it runs smoothly."
She says as you follow behind her, trying to match her fast and long strides. 
Oh god, you can't do this. And you're not talking about walking fast in high heels. 
"Now this," she says, close to her desk and across from Mr. Jeon's office, before she opens the door. "is your office."
You both walk inside. Immediately met with the luxurious interior, you stare at the beige and goldish furniture that despite the color, it all seems minimalistic and clean. The entire room smells nice, and is definitely cleaner thoroughly. There's a white desk and behind it is the entire wall of long shelves with binders sorted most likely alphabetically. Even the shelves are backlit with LED lights. Since the entire building is covered in windows, there is an amazing view on your right side as you stand in front of the desk. 
"This will be your workplace. You will handle all calls, emails and everything of that sort here. Of course, you will be required to move around the building, so this place is mostly for you to handle the things where you need some peace and quiet."
"Wow," you manage to say. "This office is beautiful."
There are even nice plants in matching pots that make this place more alive.
"It sure is," she hums, "I don't think you will use it that much though."
You look at her a little confusingly. "Well, it's mainly for those calls and emails. You have tons of other work to do."
You don't get the courage to ask for more information. At least not now when you barely have enough time to blink.
"Follow me."
She leads you further down the hall, knowing every corner like the back of her hand as she greets passing by coworkers automatically. Some of them steal a curious look at you, but their prying eyes are long forgotten when your focus is elsewhere. 
"Saja," The woman calls out, stopping between the huge door frame. 
Across her shoulder, you notice a spacious room with multiple tables and stools around them. This has to be the break room she told you about before. The scent of morning coffee mixed with freshness hits your nose, the freshness that floats in the air through the entire building. 
One of the employees turns around, her gaze falling on her colleague shortly after as she excuses herself and walks up to the two of you. You notice she looks at you for a short period, mainly keeping her focus on the woman in front of you.
"Could you please show–I'm sorry, what was your name again?" she asks, glancing across her shoulder as her apologetic eyes fall down on you.
Ignoring the pinch of embarrassment, your name fills the short silence that is shared between the three of you. 
"You don't mind me calling you by your first name?" she assures.
"No, that's fine." you respond, hoping all of you can be at least friendly with each other. She did call the other woman by her first name. 
"Great," she takes a breath as she turns back facing – was it Saja? "I need you to explain to Y/N what's expected from her, especially today. I showed her around, so I hope–" She glances back at you, "You slightly know your way around."
Saja nods, clearly knowing this beforehand because her reaction is not full of surprise. In fact, there's zero surprise.
"She's your responsibility right now," She reminds her and even though Saja nods, you see her brows slightly raised in a mere annoyance. "Don't forget, Mr. Jeon expects everything to run smoothly."
"Of course." she says.
The woman that has shown you around turns to you, her lips close to a soft smile but her mind seems to be elsewhere. Clearly she's rushing to go back to work, at least you assume that is the reason for her abruptness. When she glances at her watch, it confirms your suspicion. 
"Well, good luck on your first day."
"Thanks–" You stop, giving her a questioning look when you realize you don't know her name. She hasn't introduced herself to you.
Whether the realization hits her at the lack of introduction on her side, she doesn't show it and offers you a simple answer.
"Soyeon."
"Thank you, Soyeon."
"Just listen to Saja here, she will explain the rest to you. And don't stress too much."
That's easier said than done. 
"Any advice?" you ask, chuckling nervously as she gives you a sympathetic look.
"Don't mess up."
Your mouth falling open and a total despair dominating your features, you watch Soyeon wave at you before she scurries away. You swear your heart just dropped and the stress of not being able to do this comes up to you in a bigger intensity. 
Though you seem panicked and not present, you do notice Saja's eyes scanning you from head to toe as she clears her throat. Looking at her, she motions you to join her in the room. Ignoring all eyes on you, you focus on her as she leads you toward the kitchen counter. 
"Mr. Jeon comes at half past eight every morning. Occasionally an hour earlier, so you should always be prepared for that just in case,"
What are you supposed to do? Spread a red carpet for him?
"By the time he comes here, he needs to have his schedule ready for him. You also do that a day prior, sending him his schedule electronically. But you still need to have everything ready the day he comes in, so this means all papers and other details that he needs to check over or have it prepared for him."
You nod along with her explanation as if you've done this before. 
"The assistant before you had that prepared for you, so you don't have to do it today. But it is expected of you to do that tomorrow and from now on,"
"Okay."
"Mr. Jeon doesn't like someone coming inside his office when he's not there. But as his assistant, he prefers all the documents to be on his desk, fully prepared and ready for him, when he gets there. That's where Soyeon comes, she's going to inform you Mr. Jeon entered his office and that's when you bring his morning coffee to him."
Is he a king or a boss?
Mr. Jeon seems like the biggest menace already. 
"Are you listening to me?" she frowns.
"I am, it's just too much information and I'm trying to process it."
You're not met with an ounce of empathy as she scowls at you as if you've done something wrong. That leaves you a little bitter but you don't let it show. You simply just stare at her, a knowing glint in your eyes when you're clearly not scared by her little attitude. What did she expect? Was she I Know It All when it was her first day?
This is insane. 
There's no way anyone that comes to work on their first day knows everything. Not to mention even if that person has experience in this field, every company is different. Every boss is different. Every boss requires something different.
"You better learn fast then. Mr. Jeon doesn't like slackers."
Frowning again, this time you can't fully hide it as you give her a look. Did she call you slacker just because you don't know everything? Which is absolutely fine because Hello, it's your first day here!
She glances at the wall to check the time on a big circled clock that is attached to the wall. Wow, even the clock looks fancy!
Oh shit, she's walking away. Quickly catching up to her, she starts showing you the coffee machine. Automatically, she prepares the cup and barely gives you any time to fully grasp what buttons she's pressing.
"Mr. Jeon should arrive any minute. Soyeon will let you know and you'll bring coffee to him. Along with the papers that are on your desk, I'll show you which ones."
"Won't the coffee turn cold?"
He's not here, he is supposed to arrive. You might not well Mr. Jeon well but he seems like the type to get annoyed when his coffee is cold. And judging by Saja's pause, he most likely is and your guess has been right. 
"If he comes later, you'll just make him another one." 
Mentally shaking your head at the ridiculously over some coffee, she motions for you to grab the cup as she ushers you out of the break room. You try not to spill it, matching her pace as she gets inside your now office in long strides as she opens the door fast and wide. You even passed Soyeon's reception desk but you were rushing to even notice her.
She tosses the stack of documents onto your paper. Ready to walk out, you stop her abruptly by quickly saying; "Thank you!"
She stops, barely giving you a glance across her shoulder as her light hair shines in the natural lightning. She styled it in a neat ponytail that makes her look super professional. 
And with that, she leaves with no words.
She lets the door open, not even closing it behind her as you stare at the door frame where she was standing just seconds ago. Blinking and swallowing down the irritation, you place the steaming hot coffee on your desk. Careful not to spill it over the documents. That would be truly a horror scenario. 
Sighing, you rub your forehead softly, trying not to rub off any make-up you put there. You tuck strands of hair behind your ears, cursing yourself for not putting it up. 
The beeping sound comes from the desk, causing you to jump in surprise as you look around. It's coming from an office phone and you quickly rush to it. You stare at the multiple buttons and touch screen. Logically, you pick up the actual phone and put it to your ear.
Before your mouth opens, Soyeon's voice already reaches your ears.
"Mr. Jeon just entered his office. You have his coffee ready?"
Glancing at the steaming hot coffee, you answer. "Yes."
"Perfect," she sighs, almost in relief. "Oh, not sure if Saja told you but there's an iPad in one of the drawers in your desk. We all have one. That's going to be your best friend from now on."
"Oh, okay, thank you."
In fact, Saja did not tell you about it.
You've got so many questions about the stupid iPad. What's it for? Why do you need to use it? But before you can actually ask anything, Soyeon tells you one last thing before ending the call.
"You better get him the coffee now. Mr. Jeon doesn't like waiting."
Mr. Jeon can go fuck himself. 
Still, you carefully grab the cup of coffee and the documents. Trying to balance it in both of your hands is no joke, but you somehow manage as you rush out of your office. Passing by Soyeon who's on the call, your eyes meet but there's no time for any sort of interaction besides that as you knock at Mr. Jeon's office door. 
"Just get in, he knows it's you." Soyeon whisper yells at you, a hand covering the phone's microphone.
Aren't you supposed to knock? Fuck, you're going to fuck this up so badly.
You can barely open the heavy door, but again, you surprise yourself by managing to do that without any damage done. Being back in this office brings memories but there's no time to dwell on it, not when you have a job to do. 
You see him.
The suit jacket being tossed over the couch that's pressed against the wall, right next to the massive windows. He stands tall, wearing a black button-up with slacks that match his suit jacket. You don't look too much, setting this down onto his desk just as he reaches it and sits behind it. 
When you look at him, you notice the look he gives you.
A look of disbelief that you're really here. He definitely thought you would give up.
But rather than give him that satisfaction – and the fact you need this job – you send him a smile. "Good morning."
You're pleased with yourself. Maybe you caught him off guard by having everything prepared for him. Well, they said he needs these two things from you today and you've managed to do it. That sounds like a success, right? 
"What is this?" he asks, ignoring your greeting like the arrogant prick he is.
He stares at the cup of coffee, annoyance overshadowing his entire features. And you thought he already looked annoyed.
"Your coffee?" you ask dumbly. 
Confused of why he's even asking, you notice his jaw clenching before he looks away to take a deep breath. Breath to regain patience. One he doesn't seem to have. 
"Is this a joke?"
Your eyes widen, a lump creating in your throat as you stare at his cold demeanor. "Pardon?"
"I don't drink macchiato."
How were you supposed to fucking know that? 
"I'm sorry–I didn't–"
You didn't make it. You didn't know.
But he's not interested in your apology. Nor witnessing you being a stuttering mess.
"Black. No sugar." Is all he says through clenched teeth.
Is this a fucking coffee shop?
His eyes are on your hands as you carefully grab the failed coffee. You have a feeling as if he's going to attack you any second and even such a detail like him glaring at your hands seems intimidating.
Sighing, he ignores your presence as he pulls the documents you brought him closer, opening one of them.
With a clenched jaw, you walk out of his office in complete embarrassment and anger. It feels like you're going to cry and you surprise yourself that you already feel this way. This day could not be worse. 
You've managed to already fail and fuck it up, right in front of Mr. Jeon. 
Luckily, Soyeon is not at her desk when you pass by. Finding the right way to a break room, there are less people there than before. Everyone has gone to work.
"What are you doing?" Soyeon suddenly walks in, an iPad in her hands. "Please don't tell me you haven't brought Mr. Jeon his coffee. I saw you walking in there."
Biting the inside of your cheek, you mutter through clenched teeth. "Wasn't the coffee he wanted."
"You got his coffee wrong?" she shrieks as if it's the end of the world.
Preventing yourself from rolling your eyes at the dramatics, you rather explain it. "I wasn't the one who made it. Saja did without telling me what coffee he drinks."
Soyeon stares and you don't know what to think of her look. Does she think you're accusing her that this is her fault? Well, it sort of is but they're colleagues. You don't want to make enemies here. So you nervously chuckle and quickly add;
"She probably got it mixed up."
Soyeon walks closer, helping you to navigate your way with the machine as you silently thank her. 
"She knows Mr. Jeon's coffee preference." Is all she says before she gives you a knowing look, walking away with a sympathetic scrunch of her brows. 
As the coffee pours and the sound of it fills the silence, you stare at the city view. 
She purposely gave you the wrong coffee.
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Soyeon never specifically said Saja has set you up. She didn't directly hint at it and perhaps it's just been your rash judgment. Reminded again that this is only your first day here and you don't know anything or anyone, perhaps she made a mistake. That could be the case too. Though you feel bad for thinking the worst, which stems from the fact people are assholes, you focus on doing a good job from now on.
Not that the previous mistake was really your fault. 
You're that kind of person who tries to set the record straight no matter what. So this bothers you even now, but Mr. Jeon definitely doesn't care about any of your explanations. The warning look he gives you when you bring him the right coffee shuts you up immediately. 
Plus, it could all be just a mistake and you wouldn't want to make any accusations over a stupid coffee choice. You haven't graduated from Harvard as Mr. Jeon was so kind to remind you, but you're not dumb. You're not going to make enemies – nor you ever want to. But dealing with not so important things on your first day is not it. Even if your ego and tendency for justice is highly bruised. 
When you're back in your office, you try to make sense of all the papers and documents. There's no one exactly guiding you for it. Turns out the iPad that has been given you shows you Mr. Jeon's schedule. It must've been done by the previous assistant. Everything is neat and in order. You can do that.
You're in the middle of reviewing the device, trying to see how things were previously done so you could do your best, when your phone rings again. You click on the touch screen, staring wide-eyed when it comes to life and Soyeon's voice fills the silence.
"Hey, Mr. Jeon has a meeting at ten. Your presence there is needed."
It's almost embarrassing how your stomach churns at that information – and especially at the thought of it. Being in a meeting full of wealthy men? What are you supposed to do there?
"May I ask why?" you ask – nervously – because you're not sure what you're supposed to do there. 
You've read the contract. First of all, there is too much information for you to remember all of it. Accompanying Mr. Jeon to meetings among other things is one of them, that much you remember. 
"You won't accompany him to all his meetings. This one's big, so you're mostly there to take additional notes and whatever Mr. Jeon tells you."
Is he going to tell you? Because it seems like he expects you to know everything right off the bat. Though you keep that snarky remark to yourself. 
"You just need to be present and actually listen."
A few minutes later, after being navigated by Soyeon to the big meeting room she had shown you earlier, it turns out you were actually right. The room is filled with men wearing suits that scream rich and regardless of their clothing, you can tell they're important. Their age differs, it's a good mixture of young and elders. You do find some comfort when there are two other women there as well. Though, you have no idea what's their purpose or if they're one of the investors, the meeting happens after the official greeting.
They take turns. Setting up their presentations as they continue to speak about either theirs or someone else's business. You're not sure what you're supposed to take notes of. In fact, Mr. Jeon hasn't spoken to you since he successfully ignored your presence here.
He sits at the head of the long table, dark eyes settled on whoever is presenting, listening to them carefully. He has documents settled in front of him, which you soon figure out are the other investors' plans. Whatever they're presenting to him, he has in front of him on paper. You quickly note the nervousness that some men, older than Mr. Jeon for sure, show and truthfully, you don't blame them.
It feels weird to be seated behind the same table as them. You sit on the right side of Mr. Jeon. After a while, he leans back and makes himself more comfortable. Your attention is put on him, noticing he's been playing with a pen, twirling it between his long fingers. Are those rings? You quickly look away, cursing at yourself over and over again. 
Well, it's no secret this arrogant fucker is hot. You haven't had the chance to properly... look at him. The dominance oozes out of him which makes him slightly intimidating. Or maybe it's a mixture of his stern and cold exterior.
You're not a fan of him. That much is clear but none of that is important. You don't need to be one. You just need this job and stupidly said, the money that comes with it. If having to put up with someone full of himself like Mr. Jeon, you will have to endure it. At least until you'll be able to find another job. Having an experience in this company would open many doors for you for sure.
Look at you. 
Here you are thinking of this when no contract has been signed yet. 
A notification pops on your iPad and you stare for a moment before looking around. Are you allowed to look? It's not your personal iPad, it's not like whatever there is is your personal stuff, it must be work related. Before the screen can darken again, you check it. It's a file you open, trying to look as discrete as you can. Everyone's listening to Mr. Choi (if you remember the name in his presentation well), so you quickly take a peek. 
It's a file with everyone's name and the name of their business and presentation. Some of them are marked with a cross and others with a questioning mark. Frowning a little in confusion, you look around. Your breath hitches as soon as you find Mr. Jeon staring at you from your side. 
His stare is cold as ever, his eyes not faltering as you realize. He's the one who has sent you this. You're not sure why you send him a soft nod, silently telling him that you understood.
No reaction comes from him and his attention is directed back to the presenting man.
It continues like this. As the man comes and goes to switch places at the presenting spot and in front of a huge screen, Mr. Jeon slowly sends you his decisions. It's the only communication between you. 
As the meeting continues, you mostly take the notes for yourself as you separate the projects based on Mr. Jeon's previous marks. It's mostly to keep it more neat for you. You're not sure what you're supposed to do with it, but you'll find out from either Soyeon or Mr. Jeon himself. If not, you're just going to have to ask. You're not a fucking mind reader.
All presentations roughly take two hours, you swear your butt has no feeling from all the sitting. Your stomach is empty and it feels like you've lost your butt, it intensifies when you stand up. Mr. Jeon shakes his hand with the others, giving them one last greeting before he walks out of the room. You rush to catch up to him.
Your heels clink beside him as he's aware of your presence. He has to be. Yet he doesn't even spare you a glance as he stops at the elevator and clicks on the button. The elevator door opens immediately, a little surprised how hectic and fast everything seems, you take your place a little behind him.
"I want their presentations sorted out."
Oh my god.
Maybe this day is not going to be so bad after all. 
With a little smugness spreading in your chest, you confidently state; "I've already done that. I'll send it to you."
And then he glances behind him, right back at you as he makes sure you see the lift on his brow. Does he not believe you? Is he impressed? It's so hard to make out what he's thinking. He's definitely a very hard person to be around with. Hoseok deserves a golden medal for putting up with him. 
Irritated by his reaction, with swift taps to your screen, a sound of email being sent fills the elevator.  
You plaster a fake smile at him, making sure he sees it as you softly say. "Already done."
His features harden as he turns around. "I'm staying in for lunch today."
"Okay?" you ask unsurely.
You hear him taking a breath, but you can't see his face since he's not facing you. But he's undoubtedly irritated by your unprofessional response or at all, by your presence. 
"Have you not done any research?" he snarks.
Taken back for a second, you quickly shake yourself out of it. "I have not been informed about your lunch, no."
"Careful, Miss Y/L/N. You're already off to a bad start."
Before you can open your mouth and inform him that the bad start wasn't your fault at all, he doesn't seem to care as he stops you with his palm lifted in the air. His fingers slightly curled as his rings shine.
"This time make sure the coffee is black, or you'll be out of here faster than you can spell coffee."
Opening your mouth at the audacity, luckily for you he turns around right after as the elevator dings and informs you of the floor. He walks out and leaves, leaving you there with an open mouth and anger rising. Before the elevator door can close again, you quickly make it out of there and walk toward your office, hoping your walk doesn't come as aggressive as you feel.
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Turns out Mr. Jeon also sends his preference for lunch and it's one of your duties to get it for him. Among all the information Soyeon has been able to give you, one of them is that you either have to get it ordered or get it personally. She explained it when you were on your way to get his freaking black coffee. It's dark just like his personality is.
You might not be an assistant before – you knew getting him things like this would be your responsibility and well, job as well. Mr. Jeon wants this and that. Mr. Jeon prefers it like this. Mr. Jeon doesn't like that.
It hasn't been even a full day of you working, yet you feel like you want to strangle that man. He has power, everything around you, in here, is his. He can afford getting this kind of service and you're paid for it.
Perhaps it's your own irritation that is simply caused by the mentioned man, but you feel more like his slave than an assistant. 
Luckily, he chose Italian for his lunch today and Soyeon helped you in showing his favorite restaurant. How she knows all of that about him is beyond you. Anyway, they could get it delivered just in time, so it's kind of your lucky day. All you have to do is to get downstairs and out of the building to take it. Plus bring it straight to his office, of course. 
"There are a few restaurants that take time to get it delivered, or sometimes they are so busy that they can't get it delivered in Mr. Jeon's scheduled lunch time. That's when you have to get it for him instead."
It's what she told you when she was clicking Mr. Jeon's order.
"There is also a car in the garage that's for this purpose. When you need to run some errands to be exact." 
That freaked you out. 
You're new. Not just here but in this city. You don't know its streets and even though you don't doubt the car has navigation, you're a little stressed about that. But can you show it? No. You don't need anyone doubting you.
Nerves are calmed down when you get your boss his lunch and everything runs smoothly. He gets his pasta and even though he barely acknowledges you, it's a success. 
One of the things you always worried about when coming to a new job is being left out. Being in a new collective is never easy and it can be nerve wrecking for obvious reasons. So when Soyeon suggests you join her for lunch, you relax and happily agree. 
It becomes your chance to meet – as you could say – your colleagues. They're welcoming and curious, asking you how you ended up in the city. For a moment it seems like you're a new attraction and despite all the attention on you, you prefer they engage you in their conversation. Even though you're the main topic of it. 
Saja is there as well. You still don't know what to think of the whole coffee situation, but she seems at ease and not looking as if she was aware of her mistake. 
"So, how do you like it here, newbie?" Max, the tallish dark haired guy with sharp eyes and prominent features asks.
"It's her first day." One of the women whose name you can't remember points out.
Max gives her a look, "So? She already feels about it somehow, right?"
He looks at you, and so do the rest of them as you're just trying to enjoy your beef broth. "It's been slightly stressful, but it's my first day. So I'm just trying to remember everything."
"Honestly, we all have been through that. First days are never easy." The woman speaks again as Soyeon shrugs while Saja reapplies her lip tint.
"Ah, the pressure to not fuck up is tough, right?" Max complains as if he's the one that's been through the most stressful day. Well, he might have. You never know.
"Max." Soyeon warns him.
"What? We're not in the company." He rolls his eyes which amuses you as Soyeon glares at his audacity to roll his eyes at her. 
"I can't imagine being Mr. Jeon's assistant. The pressure must be a lot." The woman says again, her short hair barely reaching the top of her shoulders as she pouts slightly. 
"What are you talking about? Mr. Jeon is a great boss." Saja says, twisting the lip tint close as she puts it into her purse.
"I never said he's not great," But you can. While she remarks at Saja to correct her, she simply shrugs. "I just mean the pressure is even bigger considering his assistant works with him the most."
"I could do it any day." Saja says confidently.
Your and Max's eyes meet for a brief moment, his lips twitch slightly but he seems to not react much. You're slightly curious about his reaction, though you act like you haven't seen it as you continue enjoying your soup. 
"Good luck to you, really," The woman says, "Have you managed to mess something up?"
You swallow down the broth, straightening yourself as you clear your throat. They all stare at you expectedly, the table quieting down. Oh god. "I, ah, I mean is nothing big, at least I think."
They stare even more and you mentally roll your eyes before muttering under his breath.
"I got him the wrong coffee." 
Soyeon turns her head at you, staring and for a moment you think she's silently scolding you. Not that you care, they can all fuck off. You've had a rough day and it hasn't even ended. While the woman stares at you in empathy, Max goes back to eating. 
"I mean it's not that bad." she adds, voicing her empathy. 
"Was he mad?" Max asks. 
"Well," you hesitate, cocking your head to the side. "He wasn't happy for sure."
"Oh poor you." The woman whines as if you're destined for death.
And that's when you glance at Saja. She stares and that's when you know she realizes. You're silent, not really sure if you want to throw her under the bus. It's also a great opportunity to see how she's going to react. She clearly saw your look. It's a silent communication between you.
She clears her throat, "Oh? Was that the wrong one?" 
"Yeah." you deadpan.
"Sorry about that." Is all she says as the conversation drifts to a different topic. You enjoy your meal, finally getting some food into your empty stomach. 
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After you're back from lunch break, you get back into sinking as much information as you can on your own. Which means – exploring the new device that has been given to you, along with basic information about Mr. Jeon's meetings, schedule and even the emails he has sent. For a certain time being, you feel utterly lost. Not that's not any news.
You try to not let yourself lose in the craziness and hecticness this company seems to be holding. Everyone seems to work automatically, not mentioning they're synchronized like the greatest machine there could exist. Except, they're all human and perhaps they forget you're one too. Or maybe they just expect you to know everything and jump into this work. Is it possible?
Between the chunks of time you seem to have, you doubt yourself and your abilities. It's not the actual work you doubt. It's the fact that everyone and everything seems to run smoothly and fast, while you're left in your own chaos in the tallest and biggest building on this street. 
Though, you're not as useless as your doubts and anxiety might've made you feel. You get a hang of Mr. Jeon's schedule and work plan. At least most of it. 
This man is busy. Not the usual busy. 
He has meetings every day. It doesn't matter whether they're long or short, it takes most of his time. There is a bunch of material and stuff that needs to be prepared for him – every day – and he has to get through it all. 
No wonder the man is so bitter.
With so much work on his shoulders, you would fuck the money and end this business.
Perhaps, that's why you're not the millionaire here. 
Chuckling at your ridiculous thoughts, you're in the middle of checking the mailbox when the phone rings. Recognizing the four code number, you realize it's Soyeon and you already brace yourself for whatever dumb requests might Mr. Jeon has this time. 
"There is Mr. Kang on the line, he wants to schedule a meeting." 
"Okay–" 
Before you can ask her anything quickly, there's a beep sound before a male's voice resounds in the speaker. Greeting him politely, the call runs smoothly as Mr. Kang seems to be very easy going and helps you navigate yourself even without him knowing. 
You check Mr. Jeon's schedule, noticing Mr. Kang is already one of his partners and it turns out, Mr. Jeon has invested a lot of money into his entertainment business. As he tells you and requests, your boss' presence is needed and it's not a meeting that could be done directly in the company. That's why you choose the day where his schedule is not as crazy. 
You're not sure if you've scheduled it right but Mr. Kang seems to be pleased either way. The call ends shortly after and you're left in silence. Leaning back in your chair, you sigh in relief.
That wasn't so bad. 
With upcoming calls, there are numbers straight up calling you but thanks to the call with Mr. Kang, you already know what to expect. You schedule a few meetings here and there, making sure you make reminders for Mr. Jeon. Some of them had to be added or pushed forward. You're not sure if you're doing well, but you're going with your intention. You'll soon find out anyway. 
Surprisingly, the rest of the days goes like this and your brain is focused on doing the job, rather than stressing over everything. It keeps you pleasantly busy, or perhaps it's because there's no one that brags in here and pours hundreds of new information on you. 
You barely see your boss. He's mostly locked in his office, preferably not wanting to be disturbed – something you quickly pick on. Or maybe it's your assumption because how else would you know? You've been locked in your office (not literally) and doing (hopefully) your job. 
Though, he asks you to bring him one of the old contracts between one of his partners. You search for it, but luckily the previous assistant kept things neat. Therefore, you haven't spent too long searching for it and probably testing Mr. Jeon's patience. 
When you come into his office, after announcing yourself of course with a gentle knock, he taps into his laptop barely giving you any sort of gaze. You're used to it by now. Even though he seems to be busy, you still mentally roll your eyes at the lack of... respect? Acknowledgement? He surely could be more kind if he wanted to.
As you place the contract onto his desk, informing him of it even though he knows, you spin on your heels to get back to the safety and comfort of your office.
"Wait," he says as if it physically pains him to even talk to you. Or maybe it's just the gruff of his voice and the depth in it. You're surely assuming a lot of things. 
Turning around and trying to keep your facial expression polite, you give him a questioning look. One he finally sees when he finally decides to spare you a glance. 
"I need you to reschedule the meeting with Mr. Kang. I already have something planned there."
Frowning in confusion, you try to think back of his schedule you've seen dozens of times by now. Have you made a mistake? You're sure his day was mostly free, in terms of nothing big scheduled and planned.
Or there's a chance he made a mistake? You did send him his schedule though. He must've approved when he had no objections. Until now. 
"Your schedule was free on that day, sir." you inform him, the tone hesitant as if you already suspect he has made a mistake. You're still wary about it though.
He stops typing, his eyes flickering back to your figure for a split second that has your stomach clenched in discomfort. This is it. You're either getting scolded or fired. The first option seems more pleasant. 
"I've got a private schedule." he remarks with the same stoic expression you've seen a handful of times. Does this man have any emotions? Because you're seriously doubting it. 
Oh well. You couldn't have known he has a private schedule. Shouldn't you know about these kinds of things? 
"Oh, sorry. I will reschedule the meeting right away." you say, swallowing down your pride and the need to voice your thoughts. 
Of course, you know you can't speak freely because this is your freaking boss. He's cold and demands professionalism. It wouldn't be right of you to tell him that you didn't in fact know about his private schedule. Because there is no way you would know. 
And perhaps there might be a little luck in all of this. Maybe he clearly sees the distress on your face as he rolls his shoulders before opening his mouth.
"I wanted to add it and send it to you after reviewing my schedule." he informs.
You both stare at each other for a moment, while you're processing the fact he just indirectly told you it's not your fault. He knows you wouldn't know.
"Just make sure the meeting is rescheduled," he mutters, eyes focused on the screen of his laptop again. "You may leave."
Thank you, your Highness.
You leave for real this time. With a tiny feeling of accomplishment in your heart.
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Mr. Kang – or what you assume his assistant to be exact – has shown no problem in rescheduling the meeting. You were slightly worried he wouldn't be pleased but after his assistant checked with him, he didn't seem to mind at all.
The sun is setting down and the view from your office is worth every second. You even steal a quick photo of it before you return back to work. 
This room is quite isolated but even the little sounds you could've heard throughout the day, just the ones that let you know this place is active and busy, have subtly faded away. The company is less hectic and everyone's probably on their way home. You won't lie, you've checked time and according to a contract that was given to you, you should've clocked off already.
But – you had a few emails to sort out along with your own personal research of Mr. Jeon's working ethic and schedule. You understand things more now, you studying and trying to get a hang of it certainly helped. 
You're not a coffee drinker but you've made yourself one after stealing five minutes, to get yourself one in the break room. The cup is now empty, sitting on your desk as you've left the door ajar. You have one more email to read before you pack it up. Even Soyeon is not at her desk and you assume she already left home. 
You're in the middle of staring into the screen, your eyes slightly aching as your door is suddenly pushed open. The sound is loud enough to catch your attention, even if it wasn't for your peripheral vision. 
You stare wide-eyed at Mr. Jeon, glancing around as if he's checking to see the room intact. Once he finds nothing suspicious or worth his attention, his gaze falls down on you. 
"What are you doing here?"
Somehow that question is invading, yet it's simple and said with a cold tone.
Opening your mouth, you try to find the right words as he glances at the surely expensive watch hugging his wrist. Not mentioning it all matches with his dark suit. 
"You were supposed to leave an hour ago."
"I wasn't sure–"
"You didn't read the contract?" he cuts you off, frowning. "It clearly states how long your usual working days are."
In fact, you read it. Along with the information that there is something called a basic shift and additional schedule. It consists of special events, occasions when you're needed outside of the company and your usual working time. So far, nobody has really talked about it yet and it's something you need to know about more.
"I wasn't sure–" you continue, louder or at least loud enough to catch his attention and let him know he interrupted you. The way his face twists into irritation is not something you should play with. 
But His Highness is probably not aware that interrupting is considered as impolite.
"--I could leave just like that since it's my first day. Actually, I was planning to finish an email before leaving."
"You're better here when you're well rested each day. I don't need an employee who works overtime because they can't finish their work on time."
The jab is there, loud and clear, one you should've been prepared for. Of course he's going to give you an attitude about this. 
"Didn't Miss Kim tell you when you're supposed to finish?"
You have no idea who Miss Kim is, it's either Saja or Soyeon. But one thing you know, none of them let you know nothing. 
"In fact, no she didn't." you inform him with a pointed look, watching him narrow his eyes at you. 
Whatever he's thinking, he keeps it to himself. "Pack your things and leave."
He goes to turn around and leave, your panic getting the best of you as you quickly jump to your feet. "And come back tomorrow?"
His steps halt to a complete stop as he glances across his shoulder.
"You said you would give me a chance."
"And I'm keeping my word, Miss Y/L/N."
Pressing your lips together, your fingers leaning against your desk as you try to prevent them from shaking. 
"I want all the documents on my desk before eight tomorrow. And don't mess up my coffee."
And he's out of the room, leaving you with your mouth open and eyes widened. You slowly blink, realizing hitting you slowly and surely as your lips stretch into a wide smile.
You're expected here tomorrow. He didn't fire you. 
Yet.
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Your legs and walk flow in a confidence you were definitely lacking the day before. Even though this job seems like something where you don't know what to expect every day, you're more content with yourself by your yesterday's performance rather than disappointed and upset about it. 
Though, there is still a slight fear of what's awaiting for you creeping around the corner. But you don't let it ruin your morning. Now when the sun starts to peek in, the morning's fresh air naturally lifts your mood.
Maybe it's not just the fear that could potentially make you anxious. You also have a huge respect for this job. Not only because you need it, but you also want to do your best. While you truly admit you wouldn't be able to work there without Hoseok's help, you'll try to prove you deserve to have a place there.
Mr. Jeon would never even let you enter the building if Hoseok wouldn't persuade him to give you a chance. Figuratively speaking. Mr. Jeon isn't probably the person that deals with employing people from the start. They have to go through different check-ups and rounds until they get a chance to see the boss himself. His word is final though. You don't doubt he's included in all those decisions, but you can't imagine him dealing with every single interested party when it comes to new job positions. 
You truly appreciate Hoseok's help. But you can't help but feel slightly embarrassed that he had to put effort in persuading his friend. You still have Mr. Jeon's face right in front of you. That one look that reminds you why you're there in the first place. 
Your ego has to go. At least you have to push it to a certain level, so you won't get too discouraged. Again, you need this job and the money it offers. This is the only reason why you're walking inside the building, blending in with people you would never truly blend in. At least you don't believe that. 
You're wearing the clothes Soyeon gave you. It's safe to say it's one of the reasons why you look like you're one of them. Well, you are for now. You can only hope you will when you hopefully sign the contract. 
A card is given you at the reception, the kind woman informing you of its use as you simply just have to scan for entry. Not literally. It's just to log in your information to the database of when you're arriving and leaving. Everyone has one.
Glad for this new information, you scan the card in a nearby scanner before waiting for the elevator. You put it into the small and very inconspicuous pocket in your skirt. One thing you've got to say about the attire, is that it makes you confident. You already feel successful while wearing it, which is ridiculous and definitely sounds like it, but it feels like an honor to represent this company. Even on your way here, you noticed a few interested gazes aimed at you.
The material feels expensive, almost forbidden to wear in fear you would stain it somehow. Coming inside here again, you're a newbie regardless of how you feel outside of this tall and massive building. 
As you come up to your floor, greeting who you could call some of your colleagues (despite there's no way you'll get familiar with all of them) Soyeon is not present at her front desk but you're guessing she must be somewhere around. Who you do find and spot coming out one of the rooms is Max. You halt a little, surprised by his sudden presence as he seems equally perplexed to see you. But the look is quickly wiped away as he shoots you a wide and friendly smile. 
"Y/N, so you didn't give up." He tries to joke, clearly hinting at the fact that yes, you're still here. Even though you're not sure why he would think you wouldn't. God knows what they think of you or what information they have about you.
Unless Mr. Jeon is keen to gossip and open with his employees, there shouldn't be too much stuff that could reach their ears. 
"No, not yet." You settle on a faint grin, keeping the joke afloat.
"I do like you, so I really hope you stick around."
"Oh, was that a compliment?" you laugh. He definitely knows how to make someone nervous.
He opens his mouth, a grin still attached to his lips but before he could make you even more assured than he already is (which is a total sarcasm on your part), someone comes out of the break room, interrupting the moment.
"Are you done flirting, Maximilian?" Saja, wearing the same attire as you, hair in a perfect sleek low bun, doesn't bother to show a hint of smile. "Our policy says there are no workplace relationships allowed." She reminds him, almost annoyingly which leaves you totally dumbfounded. 
Glancing at Max, he seems just as dumbfounded because first of all, where's the flirting? Sure, Max is a little on the flirty side but you assume that's a part of his personality. Who knows, but still, such a bold assumption is not exactly appropriate. 
But Max doesn't falter, he doesn't look embarrassed but the way he looks to his side where Saja's standing, he looks her up and down, almost in a bitter way. 
"Is there a reason why you interrupted our flirting?" he asks instead, causing you to almost choke on your spit as you clear your throat and fail to hide the awkwardness you're currently and undoubtedly feeling. 
She chuckles, not buying his attitude. "I need her to show her stuff. So please, take it somewhere else and preferably to someone else. But make sure Mr. Jeon doesn't know about it."
"You and your threats."
"The company's policy. Not threats." She corrects.
Are you interrupting something?
Max turns to you, rolling his eyes. "You know, friendliness is not against our policy."
"Explain it to Mr. Jeon, once he's the one who catches you."
"Catches doing exactly what? Talking to my new colleague? Please." 
You purse your lips, shifting weight on your feet. This is really awkward.
"Max," she says his name, laughing almost bitterly as she shakes his head as if to call out his bullshit. He doesn't move though, lifting his brow. "I'm just informing you."
"I don't need you informing me. I'm very much familiar with our policy. Now, Y/N, it was lovely talking to you and I do hope we will talk in the future, preferably not getting caught by someone." he teases, grinning at you as your cheeks heathen up as you send him an unsure grin. 
You murmur something in return, not even sure what comes out of your mouth as he shoots you one last smile before walking away. Saja stands there, raising her brow at you almost as if it's your turn to get scolded. 
"I wasn't lying. Mr. Jeon does not allow any relationships. I'm sure it's in your contract."
The one that isn't signed yet though. You keep that to yourself. 
First of all, you didn't even think about Max that way. Not unless she made it seem as if it's something bigger than it really was. Not aware of her true intentions, you don't even try thinking of it because it's pointless. 
"Is there a reason why?" you ask instead, her brows shooting up in a silent surprise at your question instead.
"I'm pretty sure it's because it could potentially ruin the progress of working. Just measure to avoid any misunderstandings and problems. Most companies do that. At least the ones I worked at did."
"Max seems like a friendly person. I don't think he was flirting."
A little annoyed as she seems to look, perhaps it's the still ongoing topic that annoys her, she stays silent for a moment. You don't give her the time to respond though. 
"It was nothing but a friendly conversation. Nothing to suspect or worry about."
The look on her face is worth your slightly passive-aggressive reaction as a grin threatens to make it to your lips. "Well, I advise you that."
"Thank you, I will take it to heart." you promise her, almost cackling when her expression drops and it turns more serious.
"Let's go to the office. I need to explain a few things before Mr. Jeon arrives." she grits through her teeth.
Despite the not so friendly exchange, a smile remains on your face as you slowly follow her to your office with slightly more confident steps.
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During the ten minutes that are spent in the pleasant interior of your office, you deduce Saja is more informative and helpful than she was yesterday. Regardless of how quickly words spill out of her mouth to the point you think you might get a whiplash (again), you're trying to sink every information she has for you. She even made a few notes, point by point, that consists of basic information you'll need. 
You appreciate the work she put into that, or that she took the time to write all of that, regardless of its length. With that being said and sent to your mail, she leaves you to do your job since the time is ticking and Mr. Jeon will be here any minute. 
As explained and not forgotten, you make sure the cup in your hold and its content is the right one. Despite your boss' words of how he wants his employees well rested (though you're not sure if that's possible due to the amount of stress and work), you have barely slept well. Though, you hope the make-up you're wearing hides that tiny secret well. 
You don't dare to judge. Everyone here seems to be working well, perhaps they don't experience as much stress like you do – obviously. 
Coming inside his office after announcing yourself of course, you're not shocked at the lack of eye-contact and attention as you settle the cup down.
"I hope it's the right one." he says, something in his tone that you can't quite point out. Did he just make a joke? As many things here and in life generally, you don't dare to say and be sure. You don't know him and his personality is something you're still trying to figure out.
It's that moment and a few seconds of lingering silence that eventually causes him to pry his dark brown eyes off the laptop's screen, setting those distant and dark orbs on you. It's the clear quirk of his brow that brings you back into reality.
"Of course it is." It's funny how quickly you say it, with urgency as if you didn't get it wrong only yesterday. To your defense, it wasn't exactly your fault. Actually, it wasn't your fault at all. Saja made it and you just brought it to him. 
It still bothers you that you're the one who messed up in his eyes. Or in anyone's for that matter. He watches you for a second, enough to make you nervous while you're inches from his desk and well, him. He does radiate dominance and coldness. It doesn't make sense that Hoseok is friends with him. He's a complete opposite.
As much as you're curious about the man in front of you, you prefer not to ask your friend too much about him and his life. One, it shouldn't interest you enough to want to know it. Second, Hoseok is a very good friend with him and not only that, they're some distant family. While Hoseok is your friend and the closest person you have in the country, he's not your best friend that could potentially spill you anything. 
In other words, it wouldn't be exactly wise to try and pry. After all, your curiosity should go aside because this is your job. You shouldn't play with fire or dig into this and him. You won't risk that. 
"I had your documents and papers prepared before you came in,"
Stupid. You inform him of something he clearly saw when he came in here. 
"I hope everything's right."
"You hope?" he questions his brow in the same position that has been questioning you. 
He leans back against his chair, elbow resting on the arm handle as he brushes his fingers over his chest. He doesn't pry his eyes off you.
"You really want this job, right?"
You open your mouth and give him a look, once you can't even define yourself but obviously almost spills out of it. He notices it, he surely does because the little twitch the corner of his mouth makes is enough proof of it.
"I want to do my job right, sir. I'm still new and I'm learning." you answer him, diplomatically with a hint of honesty and roughness that definitely doesn't go unnoticed by him. 
Whatever argument he would have prepared, he decides to keep his mouth shut and just watches you with almost piqued interest. Or he's deep in thoughts, like you said, you can't quite figure him out.
"Learning is fine, but I hope you're aware you have to be quick at it. We don't have time for any slackers or slowness."
Well, damn. What encouraging words. 
"I'm not a slacker and I hope I'm not slow either."
If he knew you even dreamed about this job, your first day haunting you even in your sleep.
"You do a lot of hoping."
"Sometimes it's the only thing we can do."
He stays silent for a moment, "I could argue with that," he protests but he says it with no remorse or anything negative. Just merrily points out. "I could also give you a few encouraging words, but I'm not sure what help would that make."
It would certainly make you not want to shit your pants in his presence, but you don't tell him that. 
You're not here long enough, but you can't imagine him being all sweet and encouraging. It just doesn't suit him at the moment. You're aware of your judgment and assuming, so you stop and straighten yourself more.
"I need to see results, not give out hope."
That's a bit cold, but you offer him a short nod.
"Got it."
"Alright," he sighs, straightening himself that he's no longer in his leaned back comfortable position. "I need you to get a car ready for today's lunch. I have a meeting at that time and you're coming with me."
You nod, hiding your shock and maybe fear? Who knows. 
"Any restaurant preference?"
"Italian. The one in the Four Seasons Hotel. Call them and reserve us a table. Just mention the name Jeon and they should confirm it."
"Got it, sir. I'll call them right away."
He nods, scooting closer to his desk, dismissing you with no other words needed. 
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Turns out, he has a driver for special occasions. Not sure if lunch with a business partner is a special occasion, but this time you meet Mr. Jeon in an underground garage. Not having the guts to ask if you're late, you keep your mouth shut and the two of you get inside the car. 
You're sure you're not late, you were informed about the specific time when you delivered him the news of the successful reservation. Soyeon, whom you met during the day, has given you some details of how usually these meetings work and how you should prepare. Turns out, you're there to assist Mr. Jeon – schedule any possible future meetings and give him information about his schedule. 
It's understandable that a man with so much work on his shoulders can't remember every single thing, just as much as he can't manage the little details. That's why he has an assistant, that's why you're going. 
The reason for your presence there is no secret to you, and you knew that without Soyeon telling you. Still, you appreciate her trying to help. 
The drive there is spent in silence, a little awkward you would say. One of Mr. Jeon's driver is an older man. Not too old though, maybe old enough to be your father but he seems nice and polite. You can't exactly tell when all you exchanged were greetings before you joined your boss in the backseat.
You also can't say it's the most comfortable ride. You mean... Mr. Jeon is sitting right next to you, even though there's a little space between you – it's still the closest you've been to him so far. 
Man with such distance he seems to radiate, it feels odd to be so close to. He's a stranger, someone who literally has your destiny in the palm of his hands. Big hands at that. 
Something you've noticed before but is clear now as well. You're purely judging the way his phone looks small in his hold. You don't dare to make it visible that you're silently side-eyeing the man. He's not exactly the type to break the awkward silence, but he seems to be too engrossed in his phone to maybe even notice. Or care. 
The silent radio music is the only thing that prevents complete silence. And you find yourself staring from the window, your purse clutched to your side with the needed iPad in it.
It's when a rustling sound comes from the side, catching your attention as you watch Mr. Jeon tucks his phone back into his slacks pocket checking his surroundings out of the window. 
"Mr. Liang owns an agency that represents people who would potentially want business investors to invest in them." Mr. Jeon suddenly says, breaking the silence with his smooth but deep voice.
The moment you both share a look, which is just simply looking into each other's eyes, you almost panic and look away. You hold the stare though, not wanting to get intimidated by the man's eyes or aura. He seems clueless about that, more notes the slight surprise or confusion on your face.
"It's not important information but you can't go there and be completely clueless." he explains, causing you to nod in understatement.
"I thought most business partners come straight to you." Meaning to his company and through their employees, they got to the boss – Mr. Jeon.
You're not ashamed to have a question, a meer curiosity coming to the surface. Mr. Jeon doesn't look bothered, which is a good sign. 
"They do. But most people don't have the resources to do so. We're not a company you can just easily approach. We're talking about millions here, not a few bucks. So owners of agencies like Mr. Liang, they take care of all the important stuff. They take a share from the potential success, that is if I decide to invest in whatever they come up with."
"But they still pay for it, right? They have to be able to allow an agency to represent them."
"Of course. Nothing's for free, Miss Y/L/N," he answers, "If it's a beginner whose business is new, they usually take loans. They still need to pay."
You know how frustrating it feels not to have enough money to be able to go after your dreams. It's a sad reality. People have to take a risk to be able to go after them, most of the time to get into debts. 
It's surely not something Mr. Jeon has ever gone through. You don't judge him. He had the luck to be born into a rich family, which doesn't always have to be positive. You're just comparing the two different worlds. Regardless of that and anything that's obvious, Mr. Jeon was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. 
You wonder if he can even empathize with the struggles these people, or any ordinary mortal is going through. Does he even realize how tough it is for some people? In a way, he's helping them by investing his money into their business but still. It's not for free. You've seen the numbers. He has a good share after that as well. 
After all, he wouldn't invest if it caused him to lose the money. He needs a profit off the things he invests his money into. And from the looks of it, he's doing a fucking amazing job at it. 
You arrive to the Four Seasons Hotel shortly after, Mr. Jeon dismisses his driver's attempt of opening the door for him. It's a little detail but you notice it nevertheless, focusing on yourself instead and trying not to trip in your heels.
Mr. Liang is already inside by the time you get greeted by the lovely staff. Their swift greetings aimed at the man beside you prove he is a regular here. That much was clear to you when he said to mention his name when you were about to make the reservation. 
Just like the most business partners you had a chance to see, Mr. Liang is older than your boss for sure. He's in his mid fifties for sure, but his appearance screams important and business. You're purely judging it by his suit and overall vibe. For his age, Mr. Liang definitely takes good care of himself. 
He's either surprised Mr. Jeon hasn't come alone or because he sees a new face. But judging from the information you've received, you would say it's the second option. You're right because seconds after and after the two men bow at each other, he looks at you. 
"New assistant?" he questions with a smile, outstretching his hand for you to shake.
You politely take it, bowing to him. Mr. Jeon watches the interaction, sitting down as he adjusts his suit. "We'll see."
Is all he says, your frown wanting to come to the surface but you surpass it. It's awkward and perhaps quite embarrassing to hear him saying that in front of a stranger. Mr. Liang seems to be a little taken back, but for whatever reason (or his own sake) he does not ask any further questions. 
They start chit-chatting when menu orders are given to you. You stay quiet, pulling out the iPad from your purse to prepare. Drinks are ordered and you stick to the soda, even though it's nothing like you. It's not like you should care about the bill, one of those two surely pays but still. It's a safe choice. 
"I'll come back to take your meal order." The waiter says, bowing to everyone at the table before he retrieves back.
The man starts picking their food, silently flicking through the menu. "Order something too." 
Mr. Jeon speaks beside you, not lifting up his gaze as he still scans the item in his hands. 
"This should be your lunch break, Miss Y/L/N," he reminds you.
You notice Mr. Liang lifts his eyes to watch you two but his lips stay sealed shut. 
"So order something and eat."
Well, how were you supposed to know that? At least he informed you and spared you the embarrassment of having to spend this meeting with an almost empty stomach. It's a bare minimum but regardless of that, this is still work. You're working during your lunch break. So it is touching that he wants you to eat and not starve.
That would be a really asshole move, considering they're about to have lunch during this.
"Okay." you almost whisper, looking at Mr. Liang as you send him a tiny smile. He reciprocates it and luckily, gives you no attention.
After you order the food, the two business men go straight to work. You assistate, jumping in whenever you're needed and after tasting delicious Italian food, you feel better about the entire meeting. Everything runs smoothly and even though it's hard to detect any positive emotions on Mr. Jeon's face, he seems to be pleased enough with the outcome.
Surely, you can't be a good judge of this, but considering this is your second day properly working in this company, you're proud of yourself because you knew everything. You haven't done anything ridiculously hard, mainly gave information of Mr. Jeon's schedule and did research when he asked you to, but still. You're proud of yourself.
There was not a moment where you were lost and that's a win. Especially in the presence of the boss himself. 
When you get back, Mr. Jeon retrieves back to his office, informing you he doesn't want to be disturbed and all calls should be handled by you or anyone else. You nod at that, bowing at him one last time before you separate your ways. 
"How was it going?" Soyeon asks once she spots you walking by her desk, her eyes sparking with hidden interest and curiosity.
How was it going? You ask yourself. Releasing the breath, a content smile makes it up on your face. "It went actually well."
Soyeon's brows lift up as if she expected something else, though it's quickly wiped away as she gives you a cheerful smile and thumbs up. 
You're ready to walk away but you halt in your steps. "Mr. Jeon does not want to be disturbed." you inform her.
The entire moment is professional, bringing something joyful to the hopeless situation you're in. You're merely informative, making sure Mr. Jeon's orders don't go ignored. Soyeon nods, watching you the entire time you walk to your office.
You sit in your chair, leaning back as you stare at the ceiling, giggling to yourself. The joyful moment doesn't last long though, the phone ringing loudly brings you back to reality and reminds you that nothing is won yet. 
But it's on a good path and that's exactly what you let remind yourself for the rest of the day. 
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"Is your boss hot?"
The second day at your work has ended successfully and so far, Mr. Jeon hasn't come to find you and deliver bad news. That's enough to celebrate and perhaps open a bottle of wine to celebrate, but you simply cannot. You can't risk a headache or potential hangover. 
Since living overseas can be lonely and the last thing you want is to bother Hoseok. He has his own job and can't hang out with you whenever you feel like it. Therefore, you didn't consider inviting him over because there's no need to.
And FaceTiming with your older sister is just enough. It's what you used to do most of the time when you were back home. 
She moved out to Spain at the age of twenty-two which is sooner than you. For you, it was difficult to leave home and everyone there. For her, not as much. She has always been more adventurous and braver when it came to stuff like this. That's why it was such a surprise you decided to move here. Well, you did talk about wanting to come here but it was mostly fantasy talk.
She surely didn't take you seriously, knowing you wouldn't just pack your things and leave. However, you've met Hoseok and if it weren't for him, you wouldn't have the guts to leave.
"What? You did say he's young." she elaborates, shrugging at the raised brow you're showing her.
"So he's gotta be hot as well?"
If it were for you, that's exactly how you would describe your boss. Which by the way, seems very inappropriate and you almost get embarrassed for thinking it. It feels weird to be talking about it openly, even if it's your sister. 
She visibly shrugs, propping her chin on her palm. "He's young and successful. It would be a shame if he wasn't hot, just saying."
"He's decent," you hum instead, not giving the pleasure to unknowing Mr. Jeon that yes, he is hot indeed. The fucker knows it anyway for sure. "I'm more concerned about his personality. He's very firm."
You elaborate more, explain her everything from beginning in more details since messages do not give it justice. She's no stranger to your situation. 
"Well, thank god for your friend then," she says after you tell her about the interactions you've experienced with your boss. "And you don't have to work for him forever, right? You just gotta stay there for a while and then you could find something different."
"Whatever that's gonna be, I feel like it's not gonna be anything better."
"Why are you saying that?"
"Because his company is one of the best known in South Korea. He's a millionaire."
"Maybe you could work for another millionaire then." she jokes, earning another glare from you. 
"It's not that simple."
"Hm," she hums, popping a piece of chocolate into her mouth. "Is he like, super famous? I could google him. What was his name?"
You laugh, shaking your head. "He's known but he's private. People tend to put their interest and attention on idols and actors, actresses. Not millionaire heirs."
"You know what you should do?"
"What?" you deadpan, knowing one of her brilliant ideas are about to come out. 
"You should make more friends. You never know. They might help you in the future, in any field."
That's not exactly a bad idea, you know what she means. 
"I'm not gonna make friends just so they could help me when I need them." you point out.
"That's now what I meant," she argues, "Not in that way. But it's not bad to know more people. You gotta understand you don't have your family there, Y/N."
"I know that." you mutter, rubbing your forehead as you make yourself more comfortable in your bed. 
"Just think about it."
"Yeah, yeah." you wave the topic off. "I'm ready to make more friends. But currently, there aren't many opportunities to do so."
"What about your co-workers?"
"Right," You press your lips together. "They're all... I don't know, some of them are very welcoming and obviously, the company is large so I don't know everyone. I don't think it's even possible. But some of them are really serious. I don't know how to explain it."
"Maybe it's a cultural thing?" she questions.
"They're just very skilled in everything and I'm a newbie." You're reminded of Max's words. He calls you a newbie. 
"It will get better, I'm sure."
You're not sure about that, but you nod and end the topic there. You catch up over other stuff, mainly your sister talking about the reconstruction of her and her boyfriend's bathroom. Once a set of yawns keep coming in the midst of your call, you decide to end it there.
Making sure your alarm is set, even though it's automatic by now, it takes you a minute to stare at the ceiling before darkness swallows you whole. 
This time more confident to meet Mr. Jeon's orders and deep eyes that follow you into your dreams.
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yawnzzznnn · 8 months
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♡︎Beomgyu Boyfriend Head Cannons♡︎
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♡︎Special thanks too: Beomgyu, TxT
♡︎Note: not requested but I suddenly got the urge to write for my bais, also please remember that I have an 25 days till Christmas event going on rn request whoever your like to see requests end on December 1st (for the event)
♡︎TW: kissing : jealousy : food : video games : cooking : yelling :
♡︎Taglist: @mxlly143
11-10-23
♡︎Beomgyu loves playing with your clothes/fingers/hair whatever he can reach, its calming to him.
♡︎He also loves giving you random kisses like what he did with Soobin, his eyes kinda droop, he'll grab your jaw and pull you in for a kiss.
♡︎Total boyfriend material, he loves hugs constantly attached to you.
♡︎When you sit on his lap he rubs his nose on the back of your head and leave light kisses.
♡︎Jealousy...when beomgyu is jealous over something you did for someone else he'll make it known, he doesn't like hiding his jealousy, he even admitted to it on a live with Soobin.
♡︎If your hungry Beomgyu would sit there and order your favorite foods without you knowing.
♡︎He is loud super loud especially when he's comfortable around you, if you match his energy the both of you will constantly torment the other members.
♡︎He loves teasing, constantly messing with you rather it be hiding your phone and convincing you, you lost it, or feed you but keeps pulling the fork away.
♡︎He owns a lot of the same flannel's so if he randomly decides he wants to match with you he'll run and go throw one on you.
♡︎A way he often wakes you up is, he'll scream in your ear if you slept in and he's been up for awhile he'll just come up and scream.
♡︎Back to him playing with your hands, he loves pulling your nails back, ik it's random but it's his favorite but if it bothers you or hurts you he'll stop.
♡︎Beomgyu loves playing video games with you, he may get cocky and be Lowkey rude but it's all jokes.
♡︎Sometimes he'll drag you into his shenanigans against Yeonjun.
♡︎I feel like he's the type to spontaneously decide to cook something he seen on TikTok only to fail.
♡︎He gets so annoying if you didn't give him his morning kiss.
♡︎He also gets super upset if you don't eat the food he's offering I mean he'll scream but not in an offensive way if that makes sense.
♡︎Beomgyu since he's an idol and can't really have your picture as his wallpaper he'll have your favorite colors all over his phone.
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risuola · 7 months
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— all of it began with a miracle || character analysis, manga spoilers chap. 261, 2,6k this piece is not a fanfiction, there's no reader. it's a story from beginning to an end, it's what i think he was going through, what i noticed and assumed.
— sensei || teacher+student, suggestive, 1,4k he's your teacher and everyone seem to notice that he likes you; everyone, but you.
— too much || idiots in love, hurt/comfort, 2,5k his composure snaps and he unloads his frustration on you.
— policeman || exes to lovers, cop!satoru, hurt/comfort, 2k when someone broke into your apartment, your first thought was to call your ex boyfriend.
— mug cake crisis || husband!satoru, tooth rotting fluff, 0,9k there was a crisis at 2:48am and you had to sweeten your husband's way into peace again.
— promise || pregnant!reader, angst, manga spoilers chap. 236, 0.8k your husband promised your unborn child to come back, but you couldn't help but worry when watching his fight with sukuna.
promise pt. 2 || alternate ending, fluff, comfort, 1,5k broken promise || alternate ending, angst, hurt/no comfort, 1,1k
— birthday gift || friends to lovers, fluff, 2,8k sometimes you forget about your own birthday, but no worries, satoru's got you.
— real life surprise || fictional!satoru, real life!reader, 1,4k life's full of surprises, but last thing you expected is for the fictional character to jump out of the screen.
— 07.12 || established relationship, fluff, 1,4k gojo satoru doesn't celebrate his birthdays, but to you that day is important.
— skip santa, we're both on the naughty list anyway || friends with benefits, suggestive. fluffy, kissmas 2023, 0,9k it's easy to tell that there's something between you and satoru. it's also easy to tell that there's no way to pull him out of the bed.
— infinity || idiots in love, 1,3k when was the last time you slept? you couldn't tell, but satoru was determined to get you to rest.
— miserable || husband!satoru, heavy angst, hurt/barely any comfort, 2,6k satoru hated that he'd recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.
— serendipity || series, arranged marriage!au story about two people lost in the middle of arrangement not one of them wished for.
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— love medley || polyamorous relationship, series, college+roommates!au a collection of tracks about friendship, trust and love.
— lost cause || manga references, angst, 5,5k you had a soft heart, but the cruel world of sorcery took a toll on you. an universe in which satoru and suguru have another closest friend, but it's her that spirals into the circle of evil madness.
— observation || asexual!reader, suggestive, 0,6k they love to make out and you love to watch them.
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— shush, we're in the library || teacher+student, part two to sensei, smut, 1,8k how far can a teacher-student affair go?
— you cryin'? || frenemy!satoru, smut, 1,4k you and gojo hate each other. he bites and you always bite back. one time you say too much and his self-control snap.
you cryin'? pt.2 || frenemies to lovers, smut, 1,6k your reality now? gojo's shenanigans, idiotic pet-names and so. much. touching.
— do you want to stay? || exes to lovers, curseless!au, angst, smut, 5,5k after the painful breakup with satoru, your friend dragged you to the party, but the night went very wrong and very right.
— safe word || hurt/comfort, smut, 1k satoru got back home angry and that got him carried away. contains heat, regret and aftercare.
— do you want my fingers? || teenage!satoru, smut, 1,9k you really needed to rest, but satoru, your classmate decided to practise his pen-spinning abilities.
— say my name || strangers to lovers, smut, kinktober 2023, 7,8k never in your life you thought you'd go to bed with a compete stranger from the internet.
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— call it double trouble || threesome, ex-boyfriend!satoru, stranger!suguru, smut, kinktober 2023, 6k it's been a while since you last saw your college ex-boyfriend and a halloween party led to your reconnection. this time though, he has a friend.
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424 notes · View notes
the-anxious-youth · 8 months
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Bubbles II
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Pairing: Buggy x gn!Reader
Summary: Now that Buggy has agreed to help you find Nami, the two of you get closer, and shenanigans ensue.
Warnings: none, general flirting but nothing too spicy, the reader is written as gender neutral but Buggy does call them pretty, some talks of insecurity but it's more comfort than hurt
Word Count: 4.7K
Author's Note: Here's the highly anticipated part two of my Buggy fic! He's quickly become one of my comfort characters so writing about him has been fun. Also, I made some major changes to the plot in regards to rescuing Nami because I felt I couldn't do it justice since I haven't seen episode 7 yet and didn't want to mess up such an emotional scene. Thank you for being so patient and I hope you enjoy! (Up next is a Shanks fic, so keep on the lookout for that) banners by cafekitsune
Part 1
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Luffy’s eyes brightened when he saw you, a cheerful aura surrounding your captain. His smile triggers your own, and you walk up to him, holding Buggy in your hands. Luffy looks down at the clown’s head, and his smile grows even wider.
“Did you give him a makeover? It looks great, Y/N!” says the enthusiastic man, always in a good mood. You chuckle and nod in response, thanking him softly. Out of everyone in the crew, Luffy had always been the most supportive and you’re glad his reaction was the polar opposite of Zoro’s. 
“Good news, I got him to tell me how to get to Arlong Park so we can rescue Nami!” Your tone is cheerful, and your Captain’s face reflects how you feel.
“Really? That’s awesome! How’d you do it?” Luffy leans against the side of the boat, visibly impressed by the way you’d been able to tame the beast, considering that a few hours ago, they all thought they’d have to torture it out of him. Looking down at Buggy, you smile softly, debating on whether or not you should tell the whole story. Before you can answer, Buggy lets out a laugh and responds for you.
“Guess I just have a soft spot for them,” he says, sending a wink in your direction. By now his flirtatious confidence is fully restored. Luffy watches the two of you making eyes at each other for a few seconds, before breaking the silence.
“Well, I’m glad you worked it out.” Luffy notices how your eyes sparkle when looking at Buggy, but he decides not to comment on it, instead moving to pull out a map. Spreading it across a table, he gestures for you to come closer.
“So this is where we are right now, approximately.” Your captain points to a spot on the map, and you recognize it as part of the East Blue. You gently place the clown’s head on the table, allowing him to look at the map. “And this is where we think Nami is,” utters Luffy, pointing his finger to an area adjacent to where he said you all are.
“You’re heading in the wrong direction, pal.” Buggy chuckles as he says this, not surprised that your crew wasn’t good with directions. After all, Nami was the navigator, the impact of her absence being very visible. Not waiting to hear what Luffy has to say, the clown continues.
“Arlong Park is on the other side of the East Blue, next to Cocoyasi Village, which is along the coastline.” Since he doesn’t have hands, he tilts his head to gesture towards the location of your desired destination. Your captain nods with a smile.
“I think I know where that is. See, was that so hard?” Luffy says teasingly, looking down at Buggy with a cheeky smile. The clown just glares in return, his smile not reappearing until you gently pick him up in your hands.
“Need me to go tell the others or do you want to do it?” You ask softly. Luffy smiles at you before responding.
“I’ve got it. I am the Captain after all.” He says cockily, though you know he means no harm. You chuckle and nod, finding his happy mood contagious.
“Yes, you are.” He pats you on the shoulder before heading off to inform the rest of the crew of the new developments. You look down at Buggy, his amorous grin causing the heat to rise to your face.
“Now what, sweetness?” He says, his tone smooth. Cocking your head at him, you hum while thinking.
“How about some food? I’m getting pretty hungry and I bet you are too.” You smile at him softly, to which he admires your face.
“You have no idea,” the clown mutters, excited at the prospect of food. Carrying him in your arms, you head to the kitchen, which incidentally is where the rest of the crew seems to be chatting. 
As you walk into the room, everyone turns to look at you. Luffy smiles at you gently, Zoro’s face is humorless, and it seems like he’s still irritated about earlier, Sanji’s eyebrows furrow, confused to see you so happy with the clown, and Usopp wears a look of amusement as if he’s just along for the ride. For a moment, everything is quiet, before you decide to walk over to the pantry to find something to eat. Snapping out of his daze, Sanji walks over to you, the others resuming their discussion.
“What can I get for you, dear?” says the cook, gazing at you with a suave smile. 
“Just a snack please, enough for two.” Your tone is soft, and you don't miss the look of surprise on Sanji’s face when he understands what you are referring to. You don’t notice it, but Buggy’s face is smug, enjoying watching the other man squirm. Sanji is silent for a moment, his face turning concerned.
“You do know he’s a bad guy, right? Remember what he did to that town?” asks the chef, leaning closer to you, to which Buggy scoffs.
“Lighten up, blondie, you weren’t even there.” Spits out the clown. His tone reads annoyance, not wanting the chef to impact your view of him. Sanji glares down at the head, crossing his arms.
“Yes, I remember. I just figure you get further with people using kindness.” Sanji’s eyes soften at your words, internally reminding himself that this is just who you are. He sighs, before meeting your gaze.
“Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting taken advantage of,” he says softly, and you smile at his words in an attempt to comfort him. 
“I’ll be fine, I promise.” Chuckling softly at the blonde man’s concern, he nods his head, doing his best to smile back at you. He opens one of the cupboards and pulls out some snacks, handing them to you carefully. 
“Let me know if you need help, alright?” Sanji’s eyes still hold some worry, but his easy-going smile is back on his face. You nod in response, thanking him for the food before heading to the top deck, wanting to get some fresh air.
Unbeknownst to you, the rest of the crew watched your interaction with Sanji, teasing him as soon as you were out of earshot.
“Is someone a little jealous?” teases Usopp, to which Sanji shakes his head, brushing him off.
Back on the deck, you take a seat on a blanket, putting Buggy’s head down next to you. He looks up at you with a sense of wonder, admiring your features.
“So what sounds good, apples? Crackers?” You gesture to the pile of snacks in front of you, a soft smile on your face.
“Just give me whatever you don’t want,” says the clown, his smile widening at the surprised look on your face.
“I thought you were this tough guy who only cares about himself?” Your voice is gentle, with a hint of curiosity. He chuckles at your words, shaking his head softly.
“Don’t believe everything you hear, doll.” His eyes twinkle as he speaks. “Who knows, maybe I just like you.” Feeling the heat rise to your face, you look down bashfully, not sure how to respond.
“Apples it is then.” Reaching over to grab one of the apples, you pull out the knife Sanji gave you and start cutting it into smaller pieces, slipping one into your mouth every so often. The clown just watches you, taking the opportunity to admire you while he can. Secretly, he plans to charm you so that you’ll leave with him once this is all over. 
After cutting the apple into enough pieces, you move to give one to Buggy, when an idea comes into your mind.
“Here comes the choo choo train!” You say teasingly, waving the apple slice around like you would for a toddler. His eyes narrow at you, and you can tell he’d be crossing his arms if they were with him.
“Very funny,” he says unamusedly, though there is still a hint of a smile on his face. Chuckling at his response, you finally give him the apple slice, and he watches you while he chews.
“I didn’t pick these apples out so if they’re bad it’s not my fault.” You smirk at him cheekily, and he just shakes his head before swallowing.
“It’s fine,” he says, still smiling at you. “Trust me, I’ve eaten much worse.” Taking an apple slice for yourself, you pop it into your mouth, taking a look at the view around you.
“The sea sure is pretty,” you comment, admiring the fluffy clouds above you.
“Not as pretty as you.” Buggy’s statement makes you turn your head toward him. Searching his eyes for insincerity, your eyebrows furrow as you find none. By now you’re sure you’re blushing, and you look down at the apple to hide the apparent flush on your face. 
“You’re quite the flirt, aren’t you?” Anxiety fills your chest, wondering whether his words were truthful or just a way to lower your guard. You fiddle with your fingers, sparing glances in his direction. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, the clown speaks up, his tone softer than before. 
“I’m being serious, you’re gorgeous, babe.” His eyes scan your face, hoping you’ll believe him, the corner of his mouth upturned into a soft smile. You just shake your head softly, his cheeky smile prompting your own. Gaining some confidence, you respond in a pert tone.
“Yeah, well you’re quite the looker yourself. I bet the girls go crazy for you.” Buggy’s cocky demeanor falters for a second, used to giving compliments rather than receiving them. He laughs nervously, thankful for the makeup on his face for hiding the blush on his cheeks. 
“Depends on how you define crazy,” he says, tilting his head slightly. Even though you can’t visibly see the flush on his cheeks, his demeanor tells you enough. Chuckling to yourself, you reach for an apple slice, observing the clown as you chew.
“I guess we’re both not used to compliments.” Timbre hushed, you watch as he nods, silently agreeing with your statement. The two of you exchange friendly conversation, slowly opening up to one another. Before you know it, the sun is setting on the horizon as the day comes to a close, and all the snacks you got from Sanji are gone.
“If your captain correctly follows my directions, we should arrive at Arlong Park within a day.” Buggy’s tone is kind, something unusual for him, though there’s still a hint of playfulness. Nodding in response, you move to pick him up, being careful as always. He always gets a weird look on his face when you treat him with such fragility, and you assume it’s because being treated in such a way is unfamiliar territory for him. 
Walking down the stairs, you head towards your room, smiling at your crew members as you pass them. Stopping by the kitchen to get some fresh water, you run into Sanji, who seems to be writing something down in a notebook. Probably his meal plan for tomorrow, you think to yourself. The chef turns to you as you enter, surprised to see you still with the clown. 
“Aren’t you getting sick of watching him? Why don’t you let one of us take a turn, you’ve been on clown watch all day.” He says with a concerned smile. 
“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” Sanji looks at you as you speak, his eyes scanning over your face as if it were a puzzle to be deciphered. His eyebrows furrow, revealing his confusion. To him, watching a pretty person choose to hang out with a homicidal maniac was like watching a scientist write poetry, it made absolutely no sense. He narrows his eyes for a moment, debating on what to say.
“Well, if you’re happy I guess.” His tone indicates that he wants to say more, but is restraining so as to not upset you.
“I’ll just get some water and I’ll be out of your way,” you say mellowly, the awkward tension becoming uncomfortable. At your comment, Sanji sends a flirty smirk in your direction.
“You’re never in my way, darling.” Feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, you nod quickly and head to grab the water. You couldn’t see it, but if looks could kill, the glare Buggy was giving the chef would have knocked him dead. After finding the water, you make a beeline for your room, not wanting to deal with more problematic interactions. As Sanji watches you leave, he wonders to himself how the clown has caught your interest, clearly not understanding the appeal.
Shutting the door to your cabin, you let out a sigh, gingerly placing Buggy on your bed, and moving to sit next to him. He notices the change in your mood, already missing the smile on your face. 
“Everything okay, dollface?” His tone is the gentlest it’s been in years. The last time he could recall speaking in such a manner was with Shanks, and that was quite a long time ago. Nodding slowly, you start to fidget with your fingers, signaling your uneasiness.
“There’s just something about the way he looked at me like I was doing something wrong. It just reminds me how I don’t fit in with the rest of the crew.” You bring your hand up to start picking at your lips, the anxiety in your gut triggering the habit that appears whenever you get nervous. The action does not go unnoticed by the clown, and he tries to think of a way to calm you down.
“Hey, don’t do that. You’ll get scars,” Buggy says gently, wishing he had his body with him so he could grab your hand and pull it away from your face. Pausing your movements to look at him, you notice how concerned he seems, which ignites a strange feeling in your chest, comfort perhaps. You chuckle softly before replying, watching how his eyes never leave your face.
“It’s a little too late for that, I’m afraid.” He doesn’t match your laughter, aware of your attempt at deflection. A deep pit of sorrow seeps its way through his chest, which feels strange considering it’s not currently attached to him. It’s at this moment when he realizes how much he cares for you and decides that when you find Nami and the rest of his body, you’re coming with him. He’d be damned if he let anyone make you feel anything other than happiness. For a few minutes, you just watch each other, deciding what to say. In the end, Buggy is the one to break the silence.
“I know what it’s like to not fit in, but trust me when I say you’re a treasure, and anyone who doesn’t see that is an idiot. This crew is lucky to have you, they should be making you happy, not sad.” He smiles at you, his usual teasing nature completely gone in exchange for raw sincerity. 
“Look, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I meant it when I said I had a spot for you on my crew. You’d be treated like royalty, which is exactly what you deserve.” Unlike the first time he said it, you actually consider what it would be like to join him, the thought bringing a small smile to your face. 
“There’s that gorgeous smile. You’re too pretty to be sad, angel.” His words may be flirty, but he means each of them wholeheartedly. You chuckle and blush breaking into a full smile.
“How are you so sure your crew will like me?” You ask softly, tilting your head at him.
“They’d be stupid not to like you. And even if they don’t, their Captain does which means they don’t really have much of a choice.” He smirks up at you, enjoying the little giggle you let out. “At the end of the day, they’re below me and you’d be beside me, so at the very least they’d respect you. Knowing my crew though, I can pretty much guarantee they’ll like you.” 
You listen to him speak with a smile, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like someone actually understands you, even if that someone is technically your crew’s rival. He grins as you nod, observing you with an almost wondrous look.
“We have to find Nami first though, okay?” You declare, pointing your finger at him playfully. Buggy laughs and nods, swearing that neither of you will leave before the redhead is found. A yawn slips out as you chuckle, the fatigue from the day reappearing like a weight on your shoulders.
“It’s late, we should get some sleep. Besides, tomorrow’s the day we rescue your friend and I’d rather you didn’t fall asleep on me.” He says with a smirk, and you nod, giggling softly to yourself. Pulling back the blanket, you move to lie down, placing Buggy’s head on its side on a pillow in front of you.
“Good night, Bugs.” The clown smiles at the nickname, gazing at you fondly as you snuggle up with the blanket.
“Good night, darling.” He says softly, watching you close your eyes. He takes the opportunity to study your features, afraid that if he looks away he’ll forget them. After a while he hears your breathing even out, signaling your unconscious state. Only then he closes his eyes, hoping to dream of you.
—---
The next morning goes by quickly, everyone preparing for the rescue they’re about to attempt. Buggy’s directions were correct, and Arlong Park was visible just on the horizon. The energy is full of excitement and anticipation, with everyone looking forward to seeing Nami again. Right now, you’re sitting on the deck surrounded by the rest of the crew as they discuss the game plan.
“You know the layout of Arlong Park, don’t you, clown?” Zoro’s tone is harsh, and Buggy has to physically resist rolling his eyes. He’s placed on your lap, something that keeps catching the eyes of Sanji, perhaps with a hint of jealousy. The only person who isn’t actively glaring daggers at him is Luffy, though that doesn’t say much considering the pirate is always happy.
“Yes, but I won’t be much help as a head, so we need to find my body first. Then we can go after your navigator.” If it wasn’t for your gentle touch on the sides of his neck, he would’ve gone off by now, annoyed at being treated like a prisoner. 
“I can help with that,” you pipe up, and everyone nods in agreement. The group discusses some more, everyone being assigned various roles to assist in the operation going smoothly. After that, you all gear up, your goal being to reattach Buggy’s head to his body before you can help the others. Soon, the boat is docked a little away from your destination, not wanting to signal Arlong’s men of your arrival. 
Trekking through the foliage, you finally make it to the gates and split into groups, deciding that it’ll be easier to cover more ground that way. Your group consists of yourself, Buggy, and Sanji, as the chef didn’t trust the clown being alone with you. The blue-haired pirate directs you towards a hidden entrance along the side of the park, one in which you hopefully wouldn’t be spotted. Following his directions, you come across a small clearing in the trees, Sanji following right behind you. 
“Where do you think your body is being kept?” You ask quietly, hoping your voice doesn’t tell Arlong or his men of your locations. 
“Probably somewhere amongst the carnival games. Since he’s taken it I’ve noticed they’ve been throwing something at it, probably darts based on the sensation. Arlong likes to mess with people anyway, so it would make sense.” Nodding, you head towards that area, allowing Buggy to tell you where to go since he’s the only one who’s been here before. Not long after, you stumble upon what you’re looking for, Buggy’s body pinned up against some balloons. Breaking out into a large smile, you look down at Buggy, and he grins back up at you.
“Wow, you were actually right,” Sanji comments, his words full of surprise and bitterness, his distaste for the clown painfully obvious.
“You say that like it’s a miracle.” The clown says in rebuttal, sharing the disdain for the chef. Suddenly, Buggy’s head flies out of your hands as the various parts of his body reattach themselves. Once he’s back to being a whole person, he hops down from the wall, running towards you with joy written on his face.
“It feels better than I even remembered!” Says the clown, running his hands up and down his arms. He turns to you with a grin.
“Now let’s go find your friend.” You nod at him, his happiness triggering your own. 
While searching for Nami, you run into the rest of your crew, who seem to be in a bit of a hurry.
“What’s the matter? Did you find her? Is she okay?” Right as Usopp is about to answer, a familiar voice rings into the air. 
“Miss me that much?” You turn your head in the direction of the sound, and a huge smile breaks out on your face as you see Nami running towards you. She smirks at your expression before continuing. “We need to get out of here before the rest of the Arlong pirates find us, we can catch up later.” You nod quickly, picking up your pace, and start running behind the others, Buggy at your side. 
Once you all are far enough away from Arlong Park, the crew stops to properly greet Nami, yourself included. You can tell she’s not much of a hugger, so you make sure your embrace is short. As you all talk amongst yourselves, Buggy stands a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt the moment. After everyone had a chance to talk to the red-haired girl, she finally notices the clown standing awkwardly a few steps away and furrows her eyebrows in confusion. 
“What the hell is he doing here?” She asks shortly, starting to walk in his direction. You quickly move to stand in front of her, preventing the two from fighting. 
“It’s okay, he’s okay,” you say quickly, and are met with a confused look from the girl. “He actually helped us find you. I mean, we had no idea where we were going until he showed up, considering you are our navigator.” She scoffs at the idea of Buggy willingly helping someone who isn’t part of his crew.
“Oh yeah? How’d you get him to do that? Torture him or something?” Nami looks at Buggy suspiciously, not believing that he actually did something nice for once. You shake your head, chuckling nervously, not sure how to explain the whole ‘I gave him a bath and we kinda connected’ thing. Lucky for you, Buggy speaks up.
“Your crew member here is very convincing.” He takes a step forward, gesturing to you with a cheeky smile. She just watches the two of you for a moment, finally connecting the dots between Buggy’s friendly attitude and your flustered demeanor. 
“Huh. Well, that’s something I didn’t expect to see today,” says the redhead, her timbre nonchalant.
“What didn’t you expect to see, Nami?” Sanji quickly asks. Now that she’s back, Sanji is taking every opportunity he can find to speak with Nami.
“Y/N hooking up with the clown. They didn’t seem like the type but I guess we all have secrets.” She looks at you with a smirk, a deep blush blossoming on your face. The rest of the crew looks surprised, especially Usopp, now that your little fancy has been blatantly stated.
“Wait, you have a thing for the clown captain? How am I only finding out about this now?” Usopp asks with a smile on his face.
“You really haven’t noticed? Even though I can’t possibly fathom why, they’ve been spending every second together the past few days. I mean, they’re always blushing around him, and that’s a sign of only one thing.” You’re surprised that Zoro seems so calm now, especially considering the way he reacted in the beginning. There’s no smile on his face, but he doesn’t appear to be upset. “You really need to be more observant of your surroundings, Usopp.” The swordsman shakes his head, baffled at his crew member’s ignorance.
It’s Sanji who turns to you next, a mix of emotions on his face. “So you two are really a thing?” he asks hesitantly, not sure if he really wants to hear the answer. By now you’re sure your face is deeply flushed, not used to being put in the spotlight.
“Let’s just say I’m pretty fond of your crew member,” Buggy looks at you cheekily, enjoying the blush on your visage. Sanji stays silent for a moment before nodding, leaning closer to say something to you.
“Just be careful, darling, okay?” His voice is gentle, and he backs away as soon as he sees the glare the clown is giving him. Suddenly Nami walks up to Buggy with a tough look on her face.
“If you hurt them, I’ll make sure you’re just a head, permanently.” He immediately puts his hands up in surrender, knowing that she fully means the threat.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, they’re too precious.” The look on the clown’s face shows his fear of her, a sight that almost makes Nami’s lip quirk. 
“Good.” She turns back to you, the smile returning to her face. 
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’ll actually miss you.” You knew this was the closest Nami got to being sappy, and you moved to give her one last hug.
“I’ll miss you too, Nami. Keep the boys in check for me, will you?” The navigator chuckles at your question, letting you go from the hug.
“Oh I will, you don’t need to worry about that.” Despite not knowing you for long, Nami secretly always liked you, finding you the most enjoyable to be around, unbeknownst to you.
Turning to the rest of your crew, you can tell they’ve already figured out your decision. You walk up to Luffy first, who’s beaming at you like a little boy.
“We’ll miss you too but I can tell this is what you want.” Your lips tug upwards at his statement, appreciating the way he values your wants and desires. “You know you’re always welcome on the straw hat crew, right?” His question makes you smile, and you nod in response. Stepping closer, you give him a tight hug which he happily reciprocates. ‘Always so touchy’ you think to yourself fondly. After pulling away, you say goodbye to the rest of the crew members, even getting a small “good luck kid” from Zoro. 
“Until we meet again.” You say to all of them, nodding as a sign of respect. They wave at you as you walk away, following Buggy to go find his crew. As you’re walking, he stops abruptly and turns to you.
“Oh! I forgot something.” Raising your eyebrows, you start to open your mouth to ask him what he meant, when suddenly he carefully grabs the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his. Your eyes widen for a second out of surprise, but you quickly close them and kiss him back, moving your hand to his bicep. He grins at you after you pull away, taking pleasure in the shy look on your face.
“Cat got your tongue?” The blue-haired man says softly, referring to the conversation you had the day you first met. You giggle and shake your head, hiding your face in his chest. He laughs and wraps his arms around you.
“You’re too cute, you know that? Now come on, I’ve got some people to introduce you to.” You look up at him as you pull away, smiling as he grabs your hand to lead you to his crew. 
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