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#pls help i'm not prepared for this
im-derty-dan · 1 year
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🚨"MEETING THE MASTER"🚨
DREAMS IN GOLD ANAHEIM YOU OWE ME FINANCIAL COMPENSATION
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lightwing-s · 10 months
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Yes! Jason would also randomly suggest 'got a mind for delivery?' immediately chuckles and snuggles himself into reader's shoulder while she gives him the look and pout and says, 'it's not funny'
he would be so mean and cute at the same time 😭😭 i know i said i'd go to bed but i need to write this
Walking through the door at late hours of the night, after giving up patroling for the day, Jason sees his girlfriend in front of the oven cooking up something that is filling the house with the most amazing smell. It's not rare that he'll come home very late at night and she'll be there, making him a delicious post work meal.
"Hi, babe!" he walks up behind her, giving her a kiss on the shoulder and wrapping his arms around her middle. "Fancy a delivery?"
Pouting at his joke, you watch as he throws back his head and returns to press a few kisses to your cheek. "It's not funny"
"So, what are we having tonight?" he asks, resting his cheeks on your shoulder and tightening his hold on you.
"Some linguine with shrimps." you said, catching a shrimp from the pan and feeding it to you boyfriend.
"Hmmm. Absolute perfection" he tells you with his mouth still full. "And what are we having for desert?"
When you don't reply, instead deciding to just shrug off your shoulders, not having remembered that your boyfriend has sort of a sweet tooth, he says:
"Fine by me. I can just eat you out later."
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deadcrowcalling · 24 days
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me remembering exams start next week
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hotelbitches · 3 months
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vel will make lighthearted banter become not lighthearted at all instantly and make you fear for your life and that's probably the worst thing about writing her
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blizzardfluffykpop · 3 months
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so two things- I am about to spam reblog tbz fanfics- secondly- i may or may not have a full younghoon mafia au that i wrote last night- and finished writing this morning that needs to be edited-
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airenyah · 1 year
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oh i- i just had a horrible thought...
what if waikorn gets canonized in bbs our skyy
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nthee · 10 months
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pspspspsps friends i need friends (or moots)
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t4tbedehopmar · 1 year
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i wanna make an event in my edit blog.......
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witchwhaat · 2 years
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.
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iloveskies · 2 years
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what should I know before I move to the UK in 2 weeks anyone
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relationshipnotfound · 11 months
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The ones I am least proud:of but don't hate that I drew last night
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felix and his gf being at saltburn and felix noticed ollie acting weird towards her and gets upset at him!!!!!!
The eyes, Chico. || Felix Catton x reader
A/n: YAY TY FOR THE REQUEST! PLS SEND THRU MORE
Warnings: fem!reader, Oliver being a creep, swearing, smoking, if there’s anything else lmk!
Wc: 826
Felix Catton Masterlist
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Feeling Felix’s thumb rub circles on your back, you flutter your eyes open and are met with his smile. "Mornin', baby," he greets you, and you respond with a lazy smile, relishing the comforting embrace of his body. His chuckle resonates through his chest, a gentle vibration against you. "It's too early, Felix," you murmur softly, wanting to fall back into slumber.
"Breakfast starts soon, aren't you hungry?" Felix questions, a playful tone lacing his words. You shake your head. "Yes, you are. Don't lie. I can hear your stomach," he asserts with a laugh, and you can't help but crack a smile in response. "Fine," you concede.
You and Felix make your way to the kitchen, where the aroma of breakfast awaits. You greet everyone good morning, almost forgetting that Oliver is here at Saltburn too.
You don’t understand why Felix invited him over; they barely know each other. Even when you confront your boyfriend about it, he just says that he feels bad for him, that he's going through some things at home.
Honestly, he's sort of a strange guy. You always catch him looking away from you when you look at him, around school, his eyes widen the slightest when he sees you walking down the corridors, and then he focuses his gaze on the ground. One time, he even bumped into a pole because he wasn't looking where he was going.
But today, he seems even more odd. The unease is palpable as you sit down at the table. The morning sun streams through the windows, casting a warm glow on the scene.
As you and Felix engage in light morning banter, you catch Oliver staring at you. His gaze is intense, lingering longer than is comfortable. At first, you dismiss it, thinking maybe he's just lost in thought. However, the oddity of his behavior becomes more apparent as the meal progresses.
Oliver’s eyes follow your every move, and you feel an unsettling awareness of his gaze on you. It’s as if his attention is fixated solely on you. You exchange a glance with Felix, who seems oblivious to Oliver’s strange behavior at first.
You try to focus on your plate, on the conversation with Felix, but the weight of Oliver’s gaze is distracting. It’s not the kind of attention you want or need, especially coming from a guy who's already odd enough.
You try to enjoy breakfast, but the uneasy feeling persists. Oliver’s eyes seem to follow you, and you sense a strange tension in the air. However, as the minutes pass, even Felix begins to sense the unease in the air.
“You alright, Ollie?” Felix's timely interjection is a relief. Oliver shifts his focus from you to Felix and responds with a casual, "Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm good." A smile graces his face as he savors a spoonful of breakfast as your eyes flicker between the two, watching the interaction. You can't help but wonder if Venetia or Farleigh picked up on the awkward tension in the air.
As breakfast concludes, you can’t shake off the lingering discomfort. “Remind me why you brought Oliver to Saltburn again?” You question your boyfriend beside you as you continue your skincare routine.
Felix, sensing the need for discretion, swiftly moves to the door leading to Oliver's room. "Shh, don't be so loud," he cautions in a hushed tone, closing the door behind him with a sense of urgency.
"Darling, I know he's been acting weird—" Felix begins, coming up behind you, but you swiftly cut him off. "Oh, he's been acting more than weird. I could barely focus at breakfast with his eyes on me," you huff, applying sunscreen to your face, preparing for a day out in the sun by the lake. The tension in the air is palpable as you address the unease surrounding Oliver's peculiar behavior.
"I know, I know. He just has a... tendency to stare. He's probably admiring how gorgeous you are. Aren't you used to the stares?" He bends down to kiss your cheek, and you roll your eyes in response.
"He should know it's rude to stare," you say in a sing-song voice as you pack up your skincare products. "Don't mind him," Felix adds, his large hands wrapping around your bare stomach, giving your hips a slight squeeze.
The hot temperature outside and the high UV ray lead you, Venetia, Farleigh, Felix, and Oliver outside to lounge by the lake. As you settle on the blanket, the odd tension with Oliver becomes more pronounced. He positions himself nearby, and you catch him stealing glances at you.
It’s not the casual glances friends share; they're lingering, intense stares that make you uneasy. You exchange puzzled glances with Venetia, both of you trying to make sense of Oliver’s peculiar behavior.
“That Oliver has a staring problem, doesn’t he?” Venetia comments, readjusting her sunglasses that sit on her nose. “You saw the stares this morning right?” You turn your head towards her as she does the same. “I think everyone could sense the awkwardness between you two.”
You sigh, closing your eyes and turning your head back. “He’s so strange. I still can’t wrap my head around why Felix invited him here.” You try to focus on the conversation with Venetia, hoping to ignore Oliver’s odd glances. However, his behavior persists.
As you and Venetia engage in conversation by the lounge chairs, Oliver’s attention seems solely fixed on you. It’s as if he’s not present in the moment, lost in his own thoughts. The picturesque surroundings lose their charm as the atmosphere becomes charged with an unspoken tension.
“Is he looking,” You say lowly to Venetia, who discreetly looks behind you before humming. “Fucks sake,” You groan, turning your head only to find his eyes looking at his hands. Rolling your eyes, you gravitate your gaze to Felix right beside you.
Felix, sensing the unease, stands up to move his chair closer to yours, a protective gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed, especially when he places his large hand on your thigh. You appreciate his presence, but the situation with Oliver casts a shadow over what should have been a carefree day by the lake.
The discomfort peaks when you decide to take a break and lie down on the blanket, soaking up the sun’s warmth. Venetia joins you, and you both close your eyes, attempting to find solace in the peaceful surroundings.
However, Oliver’s peculiar behavior doesn’t wane. As you lie there, eyes closed, you sense his eyes on you, a prickling awareness that mars the tranquility of the moment. You open your eyes to find Oliver glancing at you again, a furtive gaze that makes you uneasy.
Venetia, too, notices the strange dynamic and shoots you a concerned look. You spot Farleigh and Felix in deep conversation, Farleigh glancing at Oliver from time to time before giving you a look, silently communicating the shared discomfort.
“Fuck this, I’m going to take a bath,” You mutter annoyed as everyone watches you get up from your towel. Perching your sunglasses on your head, you walk over to Felix. “I’m going to take a bath,” You lean down to kiss him as he hums.
“I’ll come join you in a sec,” He says, his hands toying with the strings on your bikini bottoms. With a brief exchange of nods, you make your way back to Saltburn and to Felix’s bathroom, which connected to Oliver’s room.
The cold water is already calling your name, promising respite from the tension that clings to the air. Closing the door behind you, you take a deep breath, hoping the solitude of the bath will provide the sanctuary you need.
Little do you know that the shadows of unease follow you into the bathroom. As you start to run the water, the events of the morning replay in your mind. The odd glances, the tension at breakfast—all of it weaves into a disconcerting tapestry.
Stripping off your bikini-clad body, you let out a moan of relief when your warm body makes contact with the cold water. Lighting up a cigarette, another sigh of relief escapes you.
Unbeknownst to you, Felix decides to retrieve something from Oliver’s room. As he opens the door, the scene before him freezes him in his tracks. Oliver, standing too close, is peering through the crack of the bathroom door, watching you in the bath.
Felix’s initial surprise gives way to a flash of anger. “What the fuck, Ollie?” he exclaims, his voice cutting through the silence. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the commotion outside. You hear Felix yelling as you quickly get out the tub, wrapping a robe around your naked body before emerging from the bathroom.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He screams as Oliver stammers, caught red-handed, unable to form a coherent response. You move beside Felix, rubbing your hand up and down his arm, trying to ease him down.
“You can’t just invade someone’s privacy like that,” Felix continues, his tone sharp. “What were you thinking, watching through the door like some creep?” His eyes were blown out, his face red as Oliver just stood there distressed.
“That’s so fucked up, Oliver.” You say quietly, though your tone and glare were ice cold. Oliver, looking sheepish and guilty, attempts to explain himself. “I-I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”
Felix’s frustration deepens, and he points out, “Sorry is going to cut it, mate. What’s been going on with you? The staring, the weird glances—it’s not normal, man. We’re supposed to be friends. She’s my girlfriend, and you’ve been creeping her the fuck out!”
The room is charged with tension as the two friends face off. Felix, normally calm and collected, is visibly shaken by the breach of trust. You stand there, wrapped in a towel, feeling a mixture of concern and disgust for Oliver and an urge to comfort Felix.
Oliver, fumbling for words, finally admits, “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I messed up, and I completely understand if you’re mad.” Felix lets out a dark laugh, throwing his head back as Oliver gulps.
“Mate, we’re more than just mad. What you did is so fucking wrong,” Felix spat as Oliver says nothing but nods his head lightly. "I think it’s best if you leave, Ollie," you tighten the robe around your body as Felix lets out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair as Ollie nods, his gaze on the ground.
“Of course. I’m sorry again,” he apologizes as you give him one final look, grabbing Felix’s arm and pulling him with you back into the bathroom. Felix looks over his shoulder at Oliver, slamming the door shut and locking it.
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ahundredtimesover · 4 months
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I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 12k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕
Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰
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Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.
It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee. 
You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile. 
He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.
It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise. 
“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”
Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss. 
“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”
“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”
“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”
“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”
At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh. 
“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.
“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”
“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”
You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved. 
At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”
He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again. 
“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”
“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”
“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.” 
“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”
“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”
“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.” 
“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that. 
“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”
You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.
Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly. 
But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.
You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.
You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong. 
Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants. 
She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face. 
“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”
You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly. 
“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”
“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.
“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in. 
“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—” 
“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true. 
And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his. 
But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay. 
“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”
The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss. 
“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room. 
You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.
“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?” 
Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head. 
“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”
“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”
“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”
“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down. 
With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile. 
“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”
You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.
“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.”
“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”
“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues. 
“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”
“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”
“But I—”
“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass. 
You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.
“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”
Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.  
“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”
“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.
In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala. 
As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell. 
He’s unfairly handsome. 
He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.
The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze. 
“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.
��If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him. 
“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters. 
“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”
Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.
Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”
“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say. 
Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.
“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says. 
“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached. 
“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”
You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.
Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.    
Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway. 
“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”
“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”
Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.
Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok. 
Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them. 
There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point. 
“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison. 
“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”
“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind. 
“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you. 
“Yes, sir.”
“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”
“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”
Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.
“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.
“No.”
“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”
“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”
He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.
“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”
“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”
“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.
“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”
“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”
“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds. 
“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”
“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”
“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.
“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”
“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”
You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.
But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.
“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around. 
But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father. 
You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.
“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”
“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk. 
A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”
You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out. 
As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.
“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says. 
“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly. 
“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”
“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”
You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.
“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”
“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”
“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”
You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day. 
You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day. 
All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.
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Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks. 
You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so. 
You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you. 
There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily. 
You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised. 
“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.
“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”
You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.
“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs. 
He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.
“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?” 
“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.
You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in. 
“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”
You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed. 
You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.
Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first. 
He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.
“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”
“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what’s my week like?”
You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected. 
Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make. 
You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed. 
But of course, he has to ruin it again.
“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”
“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings. 
Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done. 
You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough. 
It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough. 
You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon. 
It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day. 
They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.
His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.
“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.
He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting. 
How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t. 
You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting. 
It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you. 
Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs. 
You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same. 
You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge. 
You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files. 
You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents. 
“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that. 
“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”
“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door. 
You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.
You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger. 
It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.
“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes. 
“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.” 
You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.
Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours. 
Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.
“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”
“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”
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Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything. 
But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.
You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.
[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you? 
You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation. 
You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do. 
It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty. 
You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.
“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”
“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more. 
“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.
He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you. 
“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.
“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”
“Well, duty calls. What can I do?” 
“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies. 
“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle. 
“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”
“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites. 
Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment. 
“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.
“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”
“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”
“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”
“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs. 
You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction. 
You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.
“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”
“It will,” you smile. “Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”
“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing. 
“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back. 
“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it. 
You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career. 
“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.
“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm. 
You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.
“Need help?” Yoongi asks.
“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.
“You brat.”
You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this. 
“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder. 
You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today. 
From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.
He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision. 
Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.
Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.
But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.
That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.
He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.
That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you. 
Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.
It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.
Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.
But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.
“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”
Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.
“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”
“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly. 
Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.
“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”
“So you’re actually friends?”
“Yes.”
“Were you more?”
Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.
“Does it matter?” The older man asks.
“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”
“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.”
Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede. 
But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply. 
“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”
Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.
“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. “You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know?  But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”
“How are you still friends?”
“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.
“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”
“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”
“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs. 
Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”
“How brave,” Jungkook remarks. 
“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans. 
“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”
“I already do. That’s why I…”
“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”
“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.
“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”
“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.
“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”
Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.
“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”
“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.
“The cafe down the street, then?”
“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans. 
But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.
So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.
“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says. 
“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”
“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”
“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”
Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now. 
He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.
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flowersandbigteeth · 3 months
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Orc boyfriend with what he thinks is a tiny, smol mate who's so smol, so delicate, so sweet... They're actually pretty firmly built for a human, while a bit short, along with being stubborn and sassy and ready to bite heads off for their adorable XL size boyfriend.
I've got so many orc stories going right now, but you know I'm not mad about it ^_^ I love Orcs <3 There are so many different ways to write them. I have another couple of Orc asks I'm working on, as well 🥵
Orc (Cedar) x thick f reader
Word Count: 5K
Tw: sfw orc fluff, some brief descriptions of battle, brief mention of sa, size difference
More monster fluff here
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“Put the stick down, sugar. We’re not going to hurt you.” 
You scoffed at the soldiers circling you, their eyes dark with lust. 
“We just want to have some fun,” another said, his eyes drifting over your shapely hips. “Don’t you owe us a debt of gratitude for rescuing you?”  
You squeezed the iron fire poker that you had gripped in your hand. 
“Rescuing me? You didn’t get your rocks off burning down the damn village?” 
“It was a strategic maneuver,” the leader of the armored men said with an oily smile. “We are here to liberate you.” 
“By assaulting me?” you snapped. 
There was not a doubt in your mind that the second you lowered your weapon, they were going to drag you into some dark corner and act out all of the sick thoughts they had echoed on their faces. 
Your King’s soldiers weren’t good guys. When they heard there was an Orc camp nearby, they couldn’t be bothered to attack it directly. Instead, they burned down your village. They said it was to prevent them from resupplying. 
It was true you did business with the Orcs, who were technically your enemy, but they never acted like enemies. While big and quite scary-looking, they paid in gold and were always polite to the women running the shops. You never felt the least bit unsafe alone with one, and occasionally, they’d help you out with things that needed done– fixing roofs and cartwheels. The men of the town had all been conscripted for the war, so it mostly the ladies keeping the village afloat. The soldiers had made a whole lot of children and the elderly homeless. 
“Come on, sweetie, this game is getting tiresome.” 
One of the soldiers dared to approach you, and you didn’t hesitate a second, swinging your poker and smacking him so hard in the head that his helmet crunched. He collapsed on the broken boards that had once been the floor of your little noodle shop. 
“Now that’s a crime!” the leader barked.
He waved to his accomplices. 
“Get in there and restrain her!” Their eyes fell on the collapsed soldier, and they looked between one another, trying to sort out who was next to get a whomping. 
You flexed your wrist, preparing to swing at whoever came at you next, when you heard the heavy steps of an Orc approaching. The soldiers were too inexperienced to know what that sound meant. You’d heard them approach every day at dinner time for several months. It wasn’t until he was shouldering his way through what was left of your door that they took notice. 
“The enemy approaches! Your swords!” 
The Orc you knew as Ash, wrinkled his brow and let out a lilting call to gather his brethren. The ground rumbled as more heavy feet ran towards you. 
Wood splintered, and what remained of the ceiling creaked as they tore the walls away, making more room for a fight. 
Faced with five nine-foot Orc barbarians armed with axes almost as big as their bodies, the soldiers tried to run for it. You screamed as they threatened to trample you, trying to force their way through the back wall, but they never reached you. 
The Orcs didn’t need to draw their weapons, grabbing every soldier and smacking them against the ground until they stopped moving—a gruesome way to die, but practical. 
When the danger was crumpled into a wet gnarl of bones and metal, their eyes turned to you. Ash said something to his friends in their own language before he stomped across the room and plucked you up like a kitten, cradling you in his arm. 
“Hey, What do you think you’re doing?!” 
“Quiet, little one. You’ll give us away.” 
You puckered your lips at him, annoyed, as if the stomping of five tons of muscle was quiet. When you tried to wave your poker at him, he plucked it out of your hand but didn’t drop it, tucking it instead in his belt. He said something else to his friends before turning to split away from them. 
You had no reason to panic. The Orcs had never harmed you, but being taken away from the group put frightening thoughts in your head, and you instinctively started screaming. 
The Orc sighed, sounding tired, when four more soldiers came skidding around a corner, swords in hand. You looked up at him apologetically, smacking your hand over your mouth to stay the scream that didn’t want to stop. 
He set you on the roof of what was left of a building and pat you on the head, a gesture that you read as “stay” before pulling out his axe. You weren’t going anywhere, even if you wanted to. The drop was fifteen feet down, and the stairs were just charcoal at the base of the building. 
“Attack!” the leader of the soldiers shouted, but their moves in their heavy metal armor were slow. Ash swung his arm in a sweeping stroke that sliced four of them in half where they stood. The other one, eyes wide with horror, turned tail and ran. 
Replacing his axe, he picked you up again and headed into the woods. This time, you had enough sense to keep quiet. 
You’d never been to the Orc camp before, but you heard it before you saw it. The brassy sound of a grinder and hammers on metal rang through the trees, blended with the shouts of the Orcs in their language.  There were lots of huge tents and fires spotted here and there. The camp was buzzing with activity. Orcs ran around shouting at one another, some gathering weapons, some sending groups in the direction you came. You recognized many of them as some of your customers. They often came in groups and hauled away vats of the noodle stew you sold. 
A few Orcs waved at Ash but didn’t pay you much mind as he carried you to the nicest-looking tent. It had a banner outside of it with a gold bear embroidered into the fabric. Ash set you on the ground at the door and handed you your poker before patting you on the back, indicating you should go in. 
“What’s in there?” you asked. 
He said something in Orcish that you didn’t understand and walked away. There were too many other giants around to attempt an escape, so you pulled aside the fur covering the door and peeked inside. 
“Hello?” 
Your question was returned with a deep voice, smooth as a glassy pond. 
“Enter, little one.” 
Taking a few steps inside, you were faced with what you could only describe as the most handsome Orc you’d ever seen. His skin was a deep olive, and his hair fell over his shoulder in a long, dark sheet with small braids here and there. His tusks were large, but they seemed only to highlight how well his lips were formed. His features were harsh and defined but not unattractive, with a straight nose and deep-set gold eyes. The only thing you could point out as a flaw was a dark scar from his forehead to the right corner of his jaw. 
You assumed the Orcs were blunt tools, sprinting into battle with no real plan, but this one was sitting at a high table examining maps with a book in his hand. 
“I’m…I’m not sure why I’m here,” you said, brandishing your poker, though you didn’t feel like you were in any particular danger. 
“I asked Ash to fetch you,” he said without looking up. “You’re the noodle shop woman.” 
“My name is (Y/N), not “noodle shop woman,” and I don’t have a shop anymore. The soldiers burned it.” 
He put his book down and turned his gold eyes to you. 
“That’s why you’re here.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
His eyes drifted over you before they settled on the poker you were still holding up. 
“You were feeding most of the camp. If there’s no shop to visit, you can make noodles here.” 
You blinked up at him. 
“Oh…Am I your prisoner?” 
He chuckled. 
“If you’d like to go back to your people, I won’t stop you, but judging how they burned down your village without hesitation, I think you’re safer with us.” 
You had to admit that made some sense, but you still weren’t buying it. 
“I can’t stay here with you!” 
He tipped his head, the corner of his lip twitching up slightly. 
“Why is that, little one?” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
“First of all, I’m NOT little, and second, an Orc camp is no place for a lady.” 
A shudder that had nothing to do with fear shot down your spine as his eyes moved over your body. He crossed the room, scooping you up, and setting you on his table. Your feet dangled far from the ground. 
“What- What are you doing?” you snapped, waving your weapon at him. 
“My neck was hurting from looking down at you. You’re very short.”
The sparkle in his eyes told you he was teasing you, which drew heat to your cheeks. 
“Maybe compared to you. You’re unnecessarily large. What are you doing with all of that muscle? Are you going to arm wrestle your books?” you pouted, eyes drifting to the massive bicep peeking out of the fur vest he wore. 
He laughed out loud, gracing you with a wide smile. 
“You’ll fit right in here.” 
You raised your nose at him, trying to look unconvinced. 
“Where will I even sleep? All of your tents are big and drafty.” 
“Since you’ve declared your intention to court me, I wouldn’t mind if you slept here.” 
“Declared my intention to— Where did you get that idea?” 
He flicked a fingertip at your poker. 
“In the old days, Orc females came to their males' tent and threatened them into submission with their favorite weapon.” 
Your cheeks burned like hot irons, and you almost dropped it. 
“Well…I’m not trying to court you. It’s for protection.” 
He snorted at you but nodded his head. 
“If you say so, little one, but it will be much warmer in my tent if it’s drafts you’re worried about.” 
“I don’t even know your name. Ash called you something in your language. I didn’t understand…” 
He examined one of the feet you had dangling over the edge of his table. Compared to his big hand, it was tiny. 
“Cautalin, it means something close to general in your language, but you can call me Cedar. That’s what my mother named me.” 
Your eyes traveled over his barrel chest and thick arms. 
“Seems about right,” you said, finally setting your poker down. 
He picked it up, looked it over, and tested the weight in his hand. 
“Not a bad choice,” he said. “Light but effective.” 
You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, feeling cheeky. 
“Do you feel like submitting?” 
You watched a flicker of heat ignite in his eyes, and he slowly set it down. 
“Come on, let's get you to bed, killer.” 
He picked you up again, walking you over to a large pallet covered in furs. 
“This is your bed.” 
He gave you another smile. 
“We’re in the middle of a battle; I won't be sleeping tonight. It's all yours.” 
Though you weren't quite sure about sleeping in his bed, weariness overtook you at the sight of the comfortable, cozy furs, and you crawled in, wrapping yourself up to your chin in blankets. 
He put your poker next to you and blew out the candle, slipping out the front flap as you dozed. 
— 
You woke to yelling, but not the sound of battle. Crawling out of your furs, you picked up your poker and peeled out of the flap Cedar used as a door. Another Orc you didn't recognize was the one yelling, and Cedar had his arms crossed, looking bored. 
Your eyes drifted to about twenty women, elderly, and children, cowering in the chilly morning air, their faces streaked with soot from the fire.
“They’re our enemies!” the strange Orc barked. 
“Really, Asvoth? Are you really afraid of a handful of children and their mothers?” 
“This is a war camp, not a nursery.” 
“It's my camp, not yours. They stay.” 
“I outrank you. I can take your command.” 
Cedar snorted. 
“Yet the King hasn't trusted you with a unit of your own. You're nothing more than an errand boy with a fancy title. Any of these children could take your job.” 
Asvoth’s face turned a deep forest green from both embarrassment and indignation. He yanked the sword he wore on his back to his hand. Without thinking, you hopped in front of Cedar, waving your poker at the intruder. You had no idea why, a fact you only considered after you’d already put yourself in harm's way. Still, you'd made your move so the only thing to do was follow through. 
“You heard Cedar! We’re not leaving! Get on if you know what's good for you!” 
Asvoth sprung forward, dropping his sword toward your head. Your eyes squeezed shut, preparing for pain, but there was only the clang of metal. Opening one eye, you glanced up to see Cedar’s axe blocking the other Orc’s blow. 
There was a moment when you thought Asvoth might overtake him, but Cedar’s muscles weren't all for show. He shoved the other Orc back, and he toppled over, landing on his butt in the dirt. His sword landed in front of the children with a CLANG. 
“Woah!”  the little ones cheered, circling around it like it was a strange animal. 
A few of them tried to pick it up, but it was far too heavy, making their eyes pop even wider.
Cedar nodded at him, and a pair of Orcs from the camp dragged Asvoth up by the collar of his tunic, pushing him towards the forest.  
“I'm reporting this!” He shouted over his shoulder as he stumbled towards the woods. 
Cedar waved a hand at one of his Orcs, beckoning him closer. 
“You and Orin follow him and make sure the King gets our side of the story, not his.”  
When the situation seemed settled, Cedar looked down at you and patted your head. 
“Thank you for your protection, little suitor,” he said with a smirk. 
Your cheeks blew up in flames, but you puffed your chest and looked at the children watching Ash pick up the abandoned sword. They hopped around him like little bunnies, begging him to teach them to use it. 
“I have no idea what you mean! I’m here to make noodles! Point me in the direction of my kitchen! These little mouths are probably hungry.” 
He chuckled, but guided you with a large hand on your back to a large tent filled with whatever food supplies they had rescued from the village. You wrinkled your nose at the primitive workspace, but there were enough flour and eggs to work with. You were surprised to find someone had stuck in a lower table, perfect for your height. After washing your hands in a water basin, you got to cooking. 
“What are you still doing here?” you asked Cedar, who had plopped down in a chair and was reading a book. 
He smiled. 
“Reading.” 
You blinked at him, putting your floury fists on your hips. “Are you surveilling me? I’m not going to poison you all! I have to eat this too, you know.” 
He tipped his head to the side, his gold eyes sparkling in the makeshift hearth. 
“The sound of cooking is soothing. I liked to study in the kitchen while my mother cooked when I was a boy.” 
You looked him up and down. 
“I can’t imagine you as a child.” 
You thought for a second, tapping your chin. 
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Orc child, actually.” 
He looked back down at his book, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. 
“You will,” he said as he flipped a page. 
Your brow wrinkled at that nebulous statement, but you knew everyone was hungry after the long night, so you got back to work. 
By midmorning, you had a stewpot big enough to feed an army filled with noodles, vegetables, and what little bit of venison the Orcs had been able to hunt between the battle. 
“All done,” you said, clapping your hands and creating a puff of flour in the air. 
Cedar got up and shouted something to his men, and two Orcs appeared to carry the big vat into the central circle so it could be served. You felt a sense of satisfaction when all the bowls were passed out and the children, tired humans, and bloodied Orcs were eating. The mothers spoke quietly between one another, while the children could hardly sit still, their big eyes following the Orcs every movement. 
“Here.” 
You looked up to find Cedar holding a bowl out to you. A grumbling stomach had you accepting it, and he patted the seat next to him for you to sit down. The two of you ate quietly for a moment before you asked him a question. 
“What are you going to do with all of us?” 
“Hmm?” he asked. 
“Well, I mean when the battle is over. We have nowhere to go. Our town is destroyed.” 
He looked at the children who, after scarfing down their bowls, were engaged in some game with Ash. 
“I was hoping you would all return to our capitol city with us. That’s where we live when we’re not fighting.”
Your eyebrows jumped. 
“To the Orc city? We’re humans. Don’t your people hate us?” 
He shrugged. 
“There are some weak minds who reveal their own fragility with their hate, but the rest of us like your kind. This whole war started because we wished to create allies amongst the humans.” 
“What? The soldiers said you attacked!” 
He chuckled. 
“Your king has a very effective propaganda engine. That’s probably the only thing about him that is effective. We sent a delegation party to him to discuss our interest in mingling with you humans. You all are prolific; despite your size, you’re a sturdy bunch. We thought marriages would bolster our numbers and strengthen your stock. Your King attacked, and we were forced to defend ourselves. The force that attacked us was decimated, and he declared war.” 
“You mean…you wish to mate with us?” 
His eyes slid down to you, and he gave you a sharp nod. 
“Is that so surprising?” 
You thought about it for a moment. 
“I don’t know…Maybe a little. You’re so strong. You’re not afraid we’ll diminish you?” 
His thick hand cupped your chin and rubbed some flour away with his thumb. Your heart raced at his touch. 
“Size is not what makes us strong. Our strength lies in our unbreakable bonds. Your King will be defeated, not because his forces are less than ours, but because he orders his men to betray his own people.” 
He nodded towards the children, who were playing chicken fight on Ash and another Orc’s shoulders. 
“They will remember it was men who burned down their village, stole their fathers from them, assaulted their mothers and Orcs who took them in, fed them, and helped them smile again. 
“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed. 
His smile widened. 
“I will remember you took up arms to protect me against an enemy twice your size. You belong among the us.” 
Suddenly the wool dress you wore was much too hot. 
“I should go wash these before the next meal,” you squeaked, grabbing his empty bowl and scurrying away.
Once safe in the kitchen tent, you pressed your hand against your chest, trying to still your heart. Why did Cedar make you feel so fluttery? You’d never felt this way around anyone before. You usually kept to yourself and steered clear of romance. It had to be the battle, you decided. You were still hyped up from the night before. In a day or so, you were sure it would pass. 
Dunking empty bowls in ice-cold river water helped cool your thoughts as you tried to focus on what to make for dinner. The Orcs stocks were pretty hefty, but they and the children ate a lot. You’d noticed many of the parents tipping some of their bowls into their little one’s, making sure they were fed properly in case the next meal didn’t come. 
It saddened you it had to be this way. What horrible person decides to burn down their own citizens' village? Who was the King even protecting you from? Not the Orcs, that’s for sure. 
A loud rabble outside dragged your attention away from the dishes, and you picked up your poker before peeking your head outside. 
A few Orc scouts were speaking in rapid Orcish to Cedar. When they paused, his eyes immediately looked around for the children and frowned before he spoke to you all. 
“The human King has sent reinforcements. They will close on our camp by nightfall.” 
The mothers all gathered their children to their skirts, looking weary. 
“Women and children to the kitchen tent! We will keep you safe, but you must stay hidden!” 
You made way as a small stampede of humans rushed past you, many pushing their children to hide under the table. 
“What’s happening?” You asked Cedar as people and Orcs rushed around. 
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, looking disturbed. 
“Someone ran back to your King with a story that we’d kidnapped you, not taken you in from starving in a burnt-down village. We will win this fight, but then we will have to make the journey back to the capitol. They will keep attacking if they think you’re within their grasp. Do you think you can explain this to your people? We don’t intend to take anyone by force, but I wouldn’t trust the King’s soldiers.”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”
You hurried back to the kitchen, where the humans were muttering to one another. 
“Should we flee to the forest?” Isla, the former town candlemaker, asked. “Can we depend on the Orcs to protect us?” 
Another woman scoffed. 
“We can’t trust anyone. These Orcs are kind now, but they’ll sell us out at the drop of a hat.” 
Linda, a quiet woman who worked as a weaver, whimpered. 
“But we’ll starve in the forest alone. Word is the King’s men have raized every town for fifty miles!” 
You inserted yourself into the conversation, holding up your hands. 
“No one needs to escape to the woods. The Orcs are going to take us back to their capitol to keep us safe.” 
Linda squeaked in horror. 
“The Orc capitol?! Where they can enslave us?!” 
“They have no plan to enslave you. Don’t you want your children to be safe? We will be safe behind their walls!” 
“Or…when the King takes the city we’ll all be hung as traitors!” 
“Shawna, don’t put that in her head. Linda, we’ll be fine. I trust Cedar.” 
You paused on that thought, realizing not only was it true, it didn’t make any sense. You’d only just met him. Your conversation was interrupted by the shouting of men outside. 
“We’ll talk about this later,” you hissed, “Here, take this.” 
You armed the humans with whatever haphazard weapons you could find, mostly butcher knives and skillets. 
Outside, you could hear the clang of weapons and the squelching sounds of metal piercing flesh. 
“What's happening?” Linda asked, trying to get around you so she could peek out of the tent flap. 
“Stay back!” You barked. “If they see us, we’re in trouble!” 
You could tell she was losing it, hopping from one foot to another, her hands getting slippery on her knife. 
“No, no, no,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to go with the Orcs. Even a human monster is better than them!” 
Before you could grab her, she skipped through the doorway, running wildly into the fray. The other humans gathered around you, their opinions spilling out like loose marbles. 
“What is she thinking?!” 
“Linda, come back!” 
“Let her go, she’s nuts.” 
You clenched your jaw, squeezing your iron poker. 
“She’s scared. I’ll go get her…you all stay put!” 
Before anyone could stop you, you darted after her, trying to catch sight of her red skirt through the mess of armour-clad humans and massive Orcs. The King had sent a much larger force than the one that had burned down your village. The battle around you was brutal. You almost slipped on a puddle of blood, your eyes frantically searching for Linda. 
You found her pointing her knife with shaking hands at a human soldier. 
“What are you doing? I’m a human, too!” 
“The King ordered you all dead!” he snarled, raising his sword at her. “No witnesses! Come on, do your duty to the kingdom, and die quietly!” 
Panicking, you launched yourself at him, whacking him with your poker as you barreled into him. The two of you went down, metal clashing as you fell and dropped your weapons. Both of you scrabbled for purchase in the blood-soaked earth. You could hear Linda screeching beside you as you tried to overpower the soldier. His armor, now slick with mud, made it impossible to get a hold of him, and he triumphantly dragged himself to his sword, clumsily grabbing it by the blade and flinging it in your direction. You saw the metal flash in the firelight before pain exploded between your eyes, and your vision went black. 
“Please tell me she’s not dead,” you heard Linda’s voice from far away. 
Isla scoffed. 
“You’d better hope she’s not, Linda. This is all your fault!” 
“I'm sorry!” she simpered, “I made a mistake! I thought the soldiers were here to free us!” 
“Free us from what? A good meal and a safe place to sleep?”
You dragged your eyelids open, vision blurry for a moment before it cleared. 
“What…what happened?” you murmured. 
“She’s awake!” Isla gasped. 
You felt her cool hands against your cheek. 
“Take it slow, here; have some water.” 
She pushed a tin cup into your hands, and you wet your palette with a few sips. Looking around, you were surrounded by the humans, all looking very concerned. 
“Is everyone okay?” you asked. 
Isla smirked, and the other women tittered a bit. 
“Thanks to you, I suppose. That chieftain or warlord or whatever saw you get knocked in the head and went berzerk. He killed most of the soldiers all by himself.” 
Another woman poked her head out of the tent. 
“She’s okay! You guys can untie him!” 
“Untie who? Is the battle over?” 
Isla nodded.
“Yeah, all the soldiers are dead. We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up so we can move the camp before the King sends anymore. Can you believe he ordered them to kill us? I guess so he could claim the Orcs did it and get more support for the war.”
She smirked at you. 
“And as for who's tied up, your Orc friend thought you were dead. The others had to tie him up so he wouldn’t go on a rampage. He was ready to storm the King’s stronghold! You ought to see the ropes they had to use…thick as your waist!” 
You heard the roll of stomping feet, and Cedar burst through the tent flap. His hair was wild, and his tunic was red with blood. He fell to his knees in front of you, holding his hands as if he couldn’t decide if you were safe to touch. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, carefully prodding the bandage you had wrapped around your head. “That monster didn’t do any permanent damage, did he?” 
“She’ll have a scar,” Isla said, “but I think she’s fine.” 
Cedar’s face lightened, pulling you towards him, his big arms wrapping around you. 
“Thank the goddess,” he sighed with a heavy breath. “I thought they’d taken you from me.” 
He cupped your cheeks between his palms when he finally let you go. 
“You are so stupidly brave, little one,” he gasped, eyes wet. “You have more honor than your people deserve.” 
Behind him, Isla waved the women out of the tent, leaving the two of you alone. Not used to so much intimate attention, your cheeks warmed, and you weren’t sure where to look. 
“I just didn’t want Linda to get hurt,” you muttered. 
He gave you an odd smile, scooping you out of the cot you’d woken up in. 
“Once I get you to our home in the capitol, I’m going to have to keep you locked up for your own safety,” he said, patting your head. 
You looked up at him from where you were tucked, leaning on his bicep. 
“Our home?” 
He grinned at you, counting on his fingers. 
“First step to Orc courting: Threaten your desired with your weapon. Done. Step two: Allure them with your cooking skills, cooking or hunting something delicious. Done. And the final step: Display your honor through a grand act of bravery. Done! You’ve effectively and thoroughly seduced me, little one! All that’s left is to take you home!” 
He tipped your chin up with one thick finger and dipped his head to press his lips against yours. Your whole body felt like it was made of butterflies, every nerve flickering with excitement. Despite being covered in blood and mud, his kiss tasted like honey and sage. It felt like a warm cup of tea on a chilly morning. Your eyelashes fluttered shut and you sank into his warmth, despite yourself, happy to be alive and in his arms.
“Oh!” you gasped as he straightened his neck.
Your mouth fell open, unsure what to say. Before you could think of anything, Cedar carried you out of the tent, shouting orders at his men to pack up the camp so you could leave for the capitol.
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andersonlore · 4 months
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❝ TATTOO ARTIST!ELLIE ❞ ✶ ELLIE WILLIAMS !
★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, fem!reader, wlw sex, poc!friendly, switch!reader, switch!ellie, tbh loser!coded ellie, scissoring, ellie being soft and cute and love struck, tattoo artist!ellie, mentions of oral.
RAY RAMBLES ✶ i'm still feeling out writing for ellie, so be nice to me pls, this is the first thing i've posted for her. if not, i won't write for her again jk but seriously dont be mean to me
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tattoo artist!ellie who you meet due to her forgetfulness. her black, leathered notebook gets left behind when she meets a friend at a local coffee shop. there’s a business card of a tattoo shop and you decide to take your chances with it and call the number. thankfully, it pans out to be the owner’s notebook. she, ellie, has apparently been tearing apart her apartment trying to find it. her voice floods all over as she whispers thank you just shy of a thousand times, her grateful pleas drip like honey all over you, sweetening you right through your core.
tattoo artist!ellie who is stunned from the first sight of you. the outfit you have on isn’t anything special, out of the ordinary, not it really isn’t but she can’t help the way her eyes wonder over. you have some tattoos which are visible, adding to the draw she feels towards you. soft shoulders are exposed in the strapless top you’re wearing, but your pants are bagging, hanging lowly at your hips, exposing a sliver of your lower stomach to her green, greedy eyes. a new, sultry and velvet, voice speaks her name and ellie knows she’ll do anything and everything to hear it again.
tattoo artist!ellie who gladly walks up to you, accepting the her notebook, desperately attempting not to fixate on the tingle spreading in her heart when she feels your soft finger slightly rub against the tip of her thumb. your sharp, gorgeous eyes look ellie once over before you offer her a smile, blinding ellie to any logical sensibility. do you like her? are you pleased? do you think she’s pretty too? is your heart beating or your fucking chest? are you having trouble breathing like she is?
tattoo artist!ellie who begins to blush profusely as you compliment her tattoos on her exposed bicep with the muscle tank she’s wearing. ellie doesn’t think it’s anything more than you being nice, returning the compliment you gave her, but then you’re touching her. nails painted with black nail polish, shiny but chipped, accentuate the line work. ellie wants to faint. jesse is sitting at the stool on the front counter and lets out a small chirp of a giggle, ellie thinks about punching him in the gut, but it means she would have to walk away from you so she opts out.
tattoo artist!ellie who does something out of the ordinary for her, offers for you to come by next week, saying you’ll tattoo her for a discounted price, something she would never agree to if you weren’t so hot, god if you don’t like her she thinks she’ll puke. but you agree, with your touch still on her slim, but defined bicep. the smirk you’re sporting makes the auburn haired girl nearly faint. evidently, you know just how to pull on her strings. you step in closer to her frame, kissing her sweetly on the cheek and she’s just as soft as you imagined. i’ll definitely take you up on your offer, els. see you next week.
tattoo artist!ellie who is paying close attention as she starts the line work. you came in wanting it down on your back, so ellie focused her attention on preparing the ink when while you situated yourself. by the time ellie had turned around, you were shirtless the side of your breasts exposed as she began. mentally, trying to convince herself she capable of being professional and not thinking about your tits in her mouth. the longer it went on, the more you talked, and the bigger ellie’s crush became.
tattoo artist!ellie who sports a sheepish smile when you start asking her about her life, how she became a tattoo artist, how long she’d be doing it, what were her least favorite designs to do. you ask about twenty question before the one you really want to ask.
“so, no girlfriend?” you wished you could see her, try to gage her reaction, her facial expressions, a smile or a grime? was she looking at you like she wants to eat you alive?
“no, but why not ask me if you have a boyfriend?”
“you’re not the type. am i wrong?”
all ellie does is smirk, shaking her head and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth obnoxiously, yeah she’s not the type.
tattoo artist!ellie who finished but not without difficulty. you love to talk, usually ellie would find it irritating when she’s trying to focus but on you it’s cute. she asks if you want to see it, and you simply agree. you turn your back to the mirror, your chest fully exposed and ellie looks anywhere but or tries to. she focuses on your angel sent smile and the look of glee as you admit how much you love it to ellie. or els, she tries not be too excited about how happy you are about it.
tattoo artist!ellie who isn’t sure how it happened, how you’re even into her, but she says enough of the right things to get you into her car and back to her apartment. you’re pushing her against the door pressed against her sinfully, peppering playful bites as ellie fishes for her keys. you follow her into her home, her tongue pleading for dominance over hers and she really doesn’t put much of fight.
tattoo artist!ellie who moans as you sit your cunt on top of hers. it’s delicious the way you have her putty in your hand from the initial grind. your clit catching with hers, her strong hands finding your hips, thumb with a bruising pressure, as pause. ellie is going to ask what’s wrong but before she can, you’re spitting on her cunt, a string of saliva, your perfectly wet concoction, halts as it travels down her labia and your sinking slick first, moaning out a soft oh, fuck, els you feel perfect.
tattoo artist!ellie who loves to watching your tits bounce for her as you slowly pick up the pace, the tattoo on your sternum perfectly placed between them only fuels the stickiness between ellie’s thighs. she lets you create the pace, control her to your liking.
“do you like to be, uh oh- fuck, choked?” you ask as feel yourself lost it, the smacking of your slick combined with her spurring you on.
ellie grabs your hand, placing your delicate fingers along her delightful throat, “what do you think, babygirl?”
tattoo artist!ellie who is quite literally getting off on getting choked by you. the light pressure on her neck, combined with you rubbing against her pussy hips falling over her again and against has her clit throbbing. you’re so painfully hot it, claiming her, riding her pussy, whimpering out els els els, make me cum, please baby, i’m right there. yeah? are you there with me, baby?
tattoo artist!ellie who comes right along with you. she swears she sees the creator from above for a moment, flashes of white cloud her vision as you continue to fuck her, pulling every last drop until it’s spilling over your cunt, it’s not until then are you satisfied. you collapse on her, your breasts softly smashed against her own, a whine leaving your lips, hot breath on ellie’s ear nearly makes her buck up back into you.
“c’mon, get this pretty ass up and arched. have to taste this pretty pussy before it kills me not to.” ellie whispers but the two of you know it’s not a request, it’s a command. happily, you obey.
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harleehazbinfics · 28 days
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Can We? an au lucifer x reader oneshot
Author Profile a/n: SURPRISEEEEEE. i got 'we become we' -journey to jerusalem song on a loop since i found it and i knew i wasn't gonna get it out of my system unless i do something about it. so pls enjoy my ramblings lmfao word count: 1200+
"Your Majesty, please reconsider this! Our kingdom needs a Queen!"
Lucifer sighs at the aide's words, feeling irritated with the insistent suggestion of a Queen.
"I agree, your majesty. The people are quite worried for you. You need an heir, and you aren't getting any younger either," another aide jumps in.
Lucifer surrenders to them with hands in the air in exasperation and finally replies, "Fine."
The people in the room sigh in relief that they somehow got through to him. But hitch their breath when he adds on.
"However, I won't just choose anyone. Only the best candidate will stand by my side and be rightfully called the Queen," he glares.
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"Good day, your majesty. My name is (full name), Princess of the Eastern Kingdom. I'm grateful for this opportunity," you smile amiably.
"Likewise," he responds quite honestly shocked from your tone.
You were the guest that was expected to arrive at the palace after receiving the invitation to be a Queen candidate. However, after word got around that you will be joining the fight for the title. All the ladies mutually agreed to resign. When he asked why, all the aide's replies were, "There is no other person worthy to be by your side other than the Princess."
Now, you stood in front of him. You were dressed beautifully, but not as extravagant as those ladies that came before him. You had a melodic tone in your voice that was pleasant to the ear. Your hands folded together gracefully. Everything about you was enchanting.
You tilt your head confused about his speechlessness. "Did I catch you in the wrong time?" you ask him.
His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that you left him dazed just from your introduction alone.
"No no," he excuses then coughs to get a grip on himself, "I apologize. I must have been tired from all the work this morning."
You give him an understanding smile and reply, "No apologies needed, your majesty. I feel honored to be here and see how hard you work. I'm sure this kingdom is grateful to have such a diligent King."
His blush intensifies from your non-stop flattery. He's heard many compliments in his life for his achievements. However, when you were the one saying those words. He can't help but believe it was all true with how genuine you sounded.
"Please, I'm quite embarrassed to hear such words from you, Princess. I've heard many tales of your acts of charity for your and other neighboring kingdoms. You've paved the way for others to follow in your example and gave a chance for the poor, homeless and orphaned," he redirected trying to calm his flaring cheeks.
He was pleasantly surprised at your reaction.
"P-Please! You've heard of that? Oh, I'm embarrassed! I hope only good thing reached your ears," you stumbled over your words when the attention turned back to you.
He laughs at you as you tried to hide behind your hair as you also flushed red. 'For someone, who gives out so many compliments. She can't even handle a couple of her own.'
'This wasn't such a bad idea,' he thought as he watched as you smile and continue talking to him.
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"(Y/n), can I ask you something?" he says sitting at the edge of the bed where you sat beside while reading a book.
It had been several weeks since your marriage and it's been quite busy for the both of you as you adjusted to your married life. Lucifer finished paperwork for his projects and formal preparations for your ascension to your rights as the new Queen. Thankfully, it had finally calmed down and now you helped him with his work and even the inner management of the castle.
You have shared the room since the beginning, and you've already shared your first night as husband and wife together. Which was.. quite passionate to say the least. But, after both of you would wake up earlier or later than the other, too considerate to wake up the other from their well-earned rest. So, now that it has finally calmed down and Lucifer approached you. You couldn't help but feel nervous.
"Of course, anything," you reply putting away the book and taking his hand in yours.
He smiles and gains courage as he caresses your hand back and says, "Are you okay with this arrangement?"
You tilt your head unsure of the meaning, "About what?"
"This," he gestures to the both of you, "are you okay about our marriage?"
You huff out a laugh relieved, you thought it was a life or death situation, "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
He shrugs and replies, "I don't know. I just thought you were having doubts about us."
You give him a meaningful look and stood up from your spot. You then tugged him to stand with you. You made him hold your waist and hand while you placed yours on his shoulder. You led him into a slow dance with a smile on your face.
"Remember, our dance together?" you asked.
"At the wedding?" he asks.
You shook your head and laughed, "We danced one together way before that. That night where we shared the stars together."
His eyes lit up, remembering that night.
"During that dance, I thought that being with you will be worthwhile. And if wherever this choice leads me. I won't regret being with you, Lucifer," you say with a deep look in your eyes.
His eyes soften as he gazed at you. You were nothing but wonderful to him, it was childish of him to assume you were having doubts. He should have trusted you and made you happy instead. You deserve nothing less than that.
"Can we become more Than half of a union we're chosen for?"
He sings as he pulls you closer to him.
"Where I am your best half And I am yours,"
You continue with a huge smile on your face as you followed his lead, gliding around the room.
"Stuck here forever And hopefully not ending in estrangement,"
You sang together faces inching towards each other with half lidded eyes.
"Can mine become yours Combining our dreams Without keeping score?"
You twirled around the room with him catching you. He opens the door and leads you out into the halls where you continued your dance.
"Always together, but never bored No choice in the matter but This will never work without each other,"
The both of you laugh like children as you chased each other down the halls.
"Can we become we? (Can we become we?) Start a new line on this family tree,"
He catches up to you and lifts you off the ground and kisses your cheek with a hearty chuckle from your deviousness.
"Two hearts connected by one beat, Your hand in mine and,"
You beam him a smile as you placed your hands on his chest feeling the rhythmic thumping of his heart from chasing you around.
"I could never choose to love another," Lucifer whispers as he pulls you into a kiss which you return with fervor.
After minutes of kissing one another, he places you down and hold your waist as places another kiss on your temple with a beaming smile. You return it and let him lead you back to your room.
"Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too," you whisper as you gave a passing gaze at the portrait of a blonde woman with her face covered with a large cloth.
Other Lucifer Fics:
@bonnie-02 @marxo5 @whaatttlaufey @froggybich @rybunnie @midorichoco @bontensbabygirl @janey @akiqvq @wonderlandangelsposts @spoiled-slutt @preciousbabypeter @roboticsuccubus83 @simbalioness @reachthestars @atlas-rin @manachpo@luc1fersducky @lovestruck-enby @azullynxx @delightedtosee @cherry-4200 @aria-tempest @lvstyangel @0strawberrysorbet0 @corvid007 @kaminarithebest @whydosnakesnotdance @psychoanalyze0 @sweetadonisbutbetter @lunalily19 @dionysusismypatrongod @skyeliteratures @sappire904
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