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ahundredtimesover · 4 months

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I Want You to Stay (02) | JJK

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: 11.9k

Series Masterlist

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

A/N: Hiii really touched with all the love for this story! I don’t know about you but this hits harder with all the boys away and we’re missing them so badly. But we’ve got this! 💕 But thank you thank you for all the messages (sorry I can’t get to each one!) and the interest and excitement. Hope you enjoy this one ☺️

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Despite hoping that he wouldn’t, Jungkook, in fact, pushes you further away on his second day on the job.

To his defense, it was partly your fault. You smiled at him last night - perhaps due to your delicious dinner that you didn’t even know was from him - and it disarmed him.

The words you uttered after just flew over his head and he just nodded, too out of it to confirm what you’d said. It probably had something to do about you not coming to his penthouse, because it’s Tuesday morning and you’re still not here. He’d expected that like yesterday, you'd prepare his breakfast, and after all that transpired, debrief after yesterday’s meetings and discuss the next steps. That was his routine with Lucas, and for all the things that you seemed to know and do right - from his room design, the doneness of his eggs, and his coffee - this was a miss.

“Aren’t you supposed to be assisting me from the start of the day?” Jungkook says over the phone, his tone sounding annoyed. “I’ve been waiting for you since 6:30.”

Your heart drops at his words, the memory from last night of him agreeing to you sticking to the same schedule you had with Hoseok suddenly feeling like some made up scenario. You remember telling Jungkook that you go straight to the office the rest of the week; you’d only go to Hoseok’s house on Mondays to prepare his clothes and brief him because he’s able to manage from Tuesday onwards. Your new boss, for some reason, perhaps misheard your question. And now you’re the one in trouble.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you bring yourself to say, your voice in a panic because regardless of who’s in the wrong, making him wait is not a good start to his day nor yours, and especially not to your already rocky relationship. “I can get a cab then head to you.”

“So you want me to wait for you some more?” He chides, his dry laugh making you want to throw your phone just so you won’t hear his voice anymore. “Just stay wherever you are, but I want the meeting minutes from yesterday ready when I get there since you’re not here to go over them with me.”

Jungkook hangs up and your head thumping on your desk is immediate. It’s barely the start of the day and you already want to go back home and probably never come back.

You left the office at 9 last night, knowing you were too exhausted to continue working on the annotated documents, and then got soaked in the rain on your way home. You planned on coming to work early - given that your boss didn’t require you to go to his penthouse, a claim you stand by - so you can continue, but now he wants the meeting minutes in an hour, and that isn’t usually due until three days later.

Neglecting the sandwich you planned on eating for breakfast, you work on your notes from the first meeting and then move on to the next. Every footstep you hear makes you anxious, and you breathe a sigh of relief every time you find out it’s not him. Every minute counts and you’re thankful for each one. Until, of course, you run out of it.

“Send them to me now and meet me in my office,” his voice echoes through the hallway that leads to his room.

Jungkook walks straight past you and doesn’t even give you a look.

“Yes, sir,” you squeak, quickly sending the email then scurrying to where he is.

You find him seated on his chair, his leg crossed over the other one as he goes through the notes on his iPad, his furrowed eyebrows making you sweat in worry. He doesn’t seem pleased. But from what you’ve witnessed so far, you doubt there’s much that pleases him.

He encircles words and scribbles on the sides, mumbling “incomplete,” “what does this mean,” and “this is not what I said.”

Jungkook sets the device on his desk and groans. He turns to you with a hard glare, and you clearly see just how displeased he is. Not that you have any defense - it’s your job to do what he asked in a manner that’s up to his standards - but you already felt discouraged in the morning, and your meal skipping caused you to lose focus in the afternoon, resulting in your less than satisfactory documentation of the meeting.

“Ms. Cho, do you know the value of these documents? And why I require them to be comprehensive and done on time?”

“Uh, ye-yes, sir,” you drag out.

“Why?”

It’s too early for this, you think to yourself. Clearly you know why they’re important; you’re just too tired to articulate the reasons to him. But you try, as the words form in your head. You’re about to say them when he stands from his chair and walks towards his desk, leans on the edge and then intently looks at you, as if he’s judging even the way you’re breathing or standing. And you’d probably fail, given how your body seems to cower in his presence.

“Because decisions are made through them,” he says, drowning out your thoughts with his stern voice. “I attend numerous meetings everyday. Decision points can be buried in the discussions unless they’re documented properly. And even when they are, they’re not actioned upon immediately unless I have access to them and unless they’ve been processed and verified. I don’t leave those conference rooms and forget about what took place. They stay in my head, that’s why I ask you to write them down, and that’s why I require you to meet me first thing in the morning so that I can process them with you, and let those points guide me for the rest of the week.”

His glare continues, so does his voice getting louder. “My job isn’t just to sit around and listen to people. I make decisions. And it’s your job to make sure I have all the correct information to make them.”

“I… I understand, sir. And I… I apologize for the oversight,” you stutter, still unable to look at him. “But about this morning, uh… you, uh last night, I—”

“Was there an explicit statement from me about not having you come in the morning?”

“No, sir.”

He lets the silence draw out, perhaps to let your own words sink in. He does have a point. You stand by your claim that you’d asked, and he nodded, but you should also know that such gestures aren’t clear responses, and that’s on you to make sure that you’re both on the same page.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say with conviction. “I made an assumption when I should have clarified. And even then, it’s your first week as Vice President. I should be assisting you in all the ways I can.”

Jungkook watches your form, hands clasped together with your nails sinking into your skin. Your head is bowed down, unable or unwilling to look at him this whole time. He knows he’s at fault, too, but he’d never admit it; he’s not exactly the type to do that.

You stand there in submission and a part of him wants to apologize, but that’s not the type of weakness he wants to show, not when he needs to establish authority and more importantly, distance.

“I require Lucas to still come every morning because that’s the only time we can debrief about the previous day’s activities,” he says, making his voice calmer now. “We go through the minutes, clarify things, finalize them, and then disseminate so that people don’t forget. Teams collaborate effectively when there’s accountability and when timelines are adhered to. It’s my job to make sure they comply. And that means it’s your job, too. I don’t have to remind you of your roles now do I, Ms. Cho?”

“No, sir,” you respond, finding the strength in you to finally look at him, his hardened stare still unnerving you.

He uncrosses his arms and walks back to his seat. “My cousin and I work very differently from each other. It’s on you to adjust.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in acknowledgment. “I’ll be at your apartment at 6:30 every morning and I’ll do better with my documentation and preparation of all the files.”

Jungkook just hums then proceeds to work on something on his desktop, which you take as your cue to leave. You bow again and excuse yourself, but his voice stops you as you open the door.

“Push back this morning’s meeting to 9:00,” he says. “And make sure you have something to eat. I can’t have you be unfocused again like yesterday.”

You survive the rest of Tuesday. You eat snacks rather than proper meals, and you find that that helps you more with time and focus. The meetings for that day are less intense, but with you still figuring out exactly how Jungkook wants the documents prepared, you stay up after hours and work on them for the next day, with you constantly going over the recording to make sure that you documented everything correctly.

You arrive at his penthouse at 6:30 every morning during the week. You make his breakfast while he takes a shower, which is really whatever’s in his fridge or pantry. He doesn’t seem to mind what you prepare for him, and you’re glad that he doesn’t find any more severe reasons to dislike you. There’s still the occasional correction of your minutes, but you chalk it up to him just being too particular. There are terms he uses that you’re not familiar with; he’s an architect by training after all.

Perhaps it’s why he’s as specific and detail-oriented as he is, and more visual than anything. Hoseok is a perfectionist like him, but the older man has everything organized in his head and then executes them, whereas Jungkook needs them all laid out before him. Whether it’s about a policy, a process, and especially a design, he makes sure they’re drawn out, and the way they all just make sense to him is immediate.

You suppose that’s what he’s used to. Plans need representation beyond words; he doesn’t seem to be the type to use much of them, in fact, unless he’s correcting you. But that’s what you’ve noticed. At some points during the meeting, he’d draw something on his iPad and send it to you; you both discuss it the next morning, with you finding the words for it for proper documentation.

But his mind doesn’t seem to stop, as you catch him on the way to work sometimes doodling some design on this leather notebook that he carries with him everywhere. Whether it’s the Arts Center or something else, you’re not sure, but you know that any moment he pulls it out, he’d spend a good amount of time on it before getting out of the car.

He remains distant and disengaged as you expect him to be. Unlike Hoseok who asks you how your evening went or how the trip to his house was, Jungkook doesn’t talk about anything that doesn’t concern work. And so when he isn’t talking about it, there’s just silence - whether in the car, in the elevator, or the walk to his room. There’s none of the laughter or the questions about how you’re coping with all your tasks, and there’s definitely nothing about his life that he shares. Not that you thought he would, but the difference with your old boss is striking, as you think of the times when Hoseok happily talked about the salsa studio he was at with A-yeong over the weekend or the movie they watched together the night before.

The comparisons remain in your head throughout the week. You try to focus on your responsibilities but you realize that you haven’t properly moved on from the culture and environment that you used to enjoy when Hoseok was still leading the team, and that has affected your work in obvious ways, and especially your approach to it.

There’s anxiety with every task that Jungkook asks of you, even if they’re things you’ve done so many times in your three years as the VP’s assistant. You find yourself constantly clarifying his instructions, prompting him to question your ability to take them. You feel like he’ll be displeased regardless of what your output is, yet you still end up spending too much time going over files that you forget to eat or clock out too late. You don’t get proper sleep either, nervous about what the next day will bring. You second-guess yourself constantly, and all the confidence you built in all your time here doesn’t seem to have as strong of a foundation as you thought.

So when you make another mistake the following Tuesday, whatever belief in yourself that you have left dissipates.

“Ms. Cho, where is the folder?” Jungkook asks, his gaze hardening the longer you look at him without a word.

You’re currently at a restaurant, given that your boss has a meeting with Mr. Hu, the owner of the company that produces quality materials that Jungkook wants for the Arts Center. This was scheduled just yesterday, which is also when he’d asked you to put together the rough draft plans and design that he worked on last weekend. The project is in its early stages but the plans are clear to Jungkook and he wants to secure this deal early on, especially with Mr. Hu leaving the country for a few weeks.

You finalized this last night and left it on your desk along with the portfolios that Yoongi and the support team have been taking from your shelf. Given the week you’ve had - lack of sleep and frustration more than anything - you rushed to get ready and mistakenly took a portfolio and not the folder meant for this meeting.

“I… I’m so sorry, sir, but I seem to have taken the wrong files,” you stutter, eyes on the ground as you clutch the portfolio for support. “They… they were on my desk along with others and I left them in the office.”

There’s a long pause before Jungkook speaks, the irritation clear in his voice.

“Do you at least have a soft copy?”

“It’s on a USB, sir,” you reply, nervously raising your head. “I left it as well.”

You try your hardest not to look at him, even if it seems like he wants you to, just so you can see the burning way he does it. Because you feel him huffing, you can see how he’s clenching his fists as he controls what he’s feeling, which is definitely anger towards your stupid mistake.

Jungkook clears his throat before turning back to the man seated across from him, his voice apologetic as he explains that you weren’t able to bring it.

“Ah, what a shame,” Mr. Hu says, judgingly glancing at you. “I was really looking forward to seeing your plans, Jungkook. I could’ve advised my people to check on the materials you want this early.”

“I’m really sorry,” Jungkook says. “Perhaps I can email them over to you?”

“Oh don’t bother, I’ll be chasing the Italian sun for the next three weeks,” the older man chuckles. “I’ll see you when I get back. By then, I hope you and your assistant have sorted things out and could give me actual information about what you want.”

“We will, I assure you,” Jungkook says, before saying goodbye to him.

He walks past you and you follow, with no words said as you both wait for the car and enter.

You can hear him panting, and you know enough that's due to an extreme emotion he can’t express. He won’t look at or say anything to you, and that feels more terrifying.

His phone rings, and not only does the person on the other line talk about what just happened, you happen to hear it, too.

“Hey, I heard what happened with the big boss,” the man says. “Did you really go to the meeting unprepared?”

“It wasn’t me, but yeah, what a mess,” Jungkook huffs, his head leaning back on the chair, his eyes closed as he calms himself down. “What did he say? Is he angry?”

“Nah. You’re a Jeon; he can’t be. He was just a bit annoyed because he was supposed to have a meeting with another client but he chose to see you.”

“Fuck. What an embarrassment,” Jungkook groans.

“Well, he does have high praises for your father.”

“And this is his first time working with me. My dad’s gonna hear about it and give me shit for it.”

“Just another normal day at the office, right?” The man laughs. “So, was it your assistant that screwed up?”

Jungkook hums his yes, knowing you’re two seats away from him, although he’s unsure if you can hear their conversation. For your sake, he hopes you can’t.

“See? This is why you should’ve taken Lucas! That guy was always two steps ahead of you.”

“That’s what I said, but when are my requests ever granted? Never. Another normal day at the office, huh?”

“If she’s pretty, maybe you can forgive them and just suffer through her incompetence,” the man laughs again. “I mean, she’s got to have some redeeming quality somehow. If she doesn’t, that just sucks for you.”

“You really enjoy making fun of my misfortunes, huh?” Jungkook huffs.

“Just sometimes. Not used to you not having your way, that’s all.”

“Well, nothing is going my way, that's for sure. But whatever, I’ll figure it out. Make sure Mr. Hu holds out for me, okay? I need you to help me this time.”

“Hey, I may laugh at your misfortunes but I always have your back,” the man says. “Good luck, VP. I’ll see you soon.”

Jungkook drops the call and you feel him glance at you but you remain stiff on your seat, unwilling to move nor look anywhere else that isn’t your lap. You’re glad that he decides to close his eyes for the rest of the ride, though, so you take your chance to shift towards the window and watch the buildings fly by, willing your tears not to fall.

You hold out until you arrive at the building. That is, until Jungkook heads straight to his room and asks you to follow.

“Own up to your mistake and look at me,” he says, his voice seeping with disdain.

You lift your head and meet his eyes, his gaze piercing right through you and you’re unable to move, to speak. But you try - a futile attempt, really - at appealing to the compassionate side of him, if it even exists.

“I’m so, so sorry Mr. Jeon,” you plead for forgiveness. “I didn’t mean to forget the folder. It’s been a tough week and—”

“A tough week?” he mocks, his voice getting louder now. “As if you’re the only one who’s had one? I come here and find myself doing your job. I spent the weekend drafting the designs because I need that deal early only for you to screw it up! My father’s been on to me about this project and I need everything done right but I can’t seem to because my assistant, who’s supposed to be assisting me, can’t even get the most basic things done. All you had to do was bring the folder. You didn’t even have a contingency plan of having a soft copy. Were you not trained for this role?”

You visibly shake but Jungkook doesn’t let up.

“Answer me.”

“I… I was, Mr. Jeon,” you tremble. “I know I’m not the smartest but I work hard and I—”

“You work hard?”

“Yes, sir.”

“In what?”

“In preparing your files and organizing everything for you and…” you try.

A month ago, you’d be saying these things and more with so much conviction. But all it took was one Jeon Jungkook to break you down and make you doubt every single skill you’ve developed and been praised for the past few years.

“And I can criticize each of those tasks in just this one week you’ve been my assistant.”

“I… I just needed guidance, sir, because it’s a new—”

“I need guidance. I need assisting,” he sneers. “My father wanted me to keep you because you apparently know how things are supposed to be done but you’re asking for guidance from me?”

There’s silence on your end and you’ve never felt as small as you do right now. The way Mrs. Byun abused her power over you and humiliated you during your first years here continues to be unmatched, but being treated this way by a man whose family you respect somehow hurts you more.

You want to give up now. You’ll lose everything if you decide to just quit but it’s not like there’s much left of you to go by anyway, given the week that you’ve had. But if there’s anything your mother taught you is that the lowest you can go is when you don’t fight for yourself, so you gather what little dignity you have left and look him in the eyes.

“You do things very differently from Mr. Jung like you said, and I admire your thoroughness,” you start, trying your hardest to calm the tone of your voice. “You’re adjusting to your new role with a new team and a new assistant that you didn’t choose but somehow you have to trust and that’s unnerving if you’re used to being in control of everything. With all due respect, however, perhaps if you let the people around you adjust as well, we would all find a way to work together effectively and respectfully. A little bit of compassion wouldn’t hurt, and it goes a long way.”

At his silence, you continue, digging your nails deeper into your skin to help you remain stable.

“I apologize for all the mistakes this past week. I know it has been unpleasant for you as well. I’ll do better, that I can promise. But if the way I work is not something that is up to your standard, then there’s only one thing to do. Me quitting would put you in a worse light; you can fire me if you think it is best,” you bravely state. “I can deal with the consequences.”

Jungkook continues to just look at you, unable to say anything this time. Perhaps he isn’t used to someone speaking to him like this. Maybe he’s finding the right words to hit you back and break you even more. The tiniest part of you wants to think you’ve softened him up a bit; hopefully he’ll be less angry at you the next time.

“Is there anything you need me to work on, Mr. Jeon?”

“No,” he answers. “Just hold off all calls for me for the next hour. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Understood, Mr. Jeon.”

You bow and head out the door.

Jungkook watches you leave, and the farther you become, the more he wishes you’d stay.

He’s unsure why. Perhaps it’s the way you spoke to him, similar to the way you did the first time you met over a week ago - with conviction and grace despite you putting him in his place. Maybe it’s him, trying to find the words to apologize without seeming weak, or to encourage you without being comfortable. The tiniest part of him just wants you around; he doesn’t know what it is about you but he finds himself feeling intense emotions because of you - frustration, fear, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness and regret.

He returns to his seat and glances through the window, the angle of his chair allowing him to see you outside, although he’s unsure if you’re able to see him. Either way, it’s not like you’ve ever looked his way anyway, so he feels a little safe doing this now.

You’re seated and turned away from the desk, with your fingers pressing over both your ears, as if you’re blocking out the sounds of the room; perhaps you’re blocking out his voice that’s probably still echoing in your head. He’d seen you do this last week, too, after you failed to show up at his penthouse in the morning. He thinks it’s your way of dealing with stress, a quiet one, in contrast to boxing like what he prefers to do. It’s the only time he’d ever allow himself to express anything, after all, other than getting mad at you apparently.

You finally turn around, but it’s not long after when Do-hyun arrives and takes your place, leaving him to wonder where you’re off to. He focuses on his work like he meant to do, opting to read and send emails while he calms himself down. His eyes always turn to your desk, though, and when he sees that he’s halfway done but you’re still not back, he decides to head out.

“Mr. Jeon,” Do-hyun stands up and greets him. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Where’s Ms. Cho?”

“She had to go to the washroom so she asked me to cover for her first,” she responds. “But, uh… She’s been gone for half an hour. I… I’m not sure what she’s up to but I can—.”

It’s at that moment when you return, and the way that both Do-hyun and Jungkook look at you that you know they can tell. You can’t exactly cry for 20 minutes and then expect to ease the swelling of your eyes for the next 10. But you act like nothing’s amiss, so you dismiss the younger woman and turn to Jungkook.

“Was there something that you needed from me, Mr. Jeon?” You ask nonchalantly.

“Just, uh…” he stutters now, taken aback by the casual way you speak to him despite your glassy eyes. “I’m meeting the CEO and President tomorrow to discuss the Arts Center. Put the initial plans in presentation format and send it to me first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond, returning to your seat and not sparing him another glance.

You work on the presentation in between the other things you need to finish. You draft memos and letters for Jungkook’s approval, and it’s half past 4 when you enter his room to have them signed.

“I’m heading out at 5 for dinner,” he says as he signs the documents. “I’ve added points on the shared file for the presentation. Make sure to include those.”

“I will, sir.”

There’s a brief moment where you and Jungkook just look at each other, words swimming in your own heads that neither of you wants to say out loud.

You wish he’d offer an apology.

He wishes you’d say that you’re okay.

You want to tell him that the Arts Center already sounds amazing; you hope it turns out the way he imagines.

He wants to tell you that he won’t fire you, that despite how he’s been, he doesn’t want you to go anywhere.

But the moment passes and then it’s gone. You bow once more and then head out the door.

He leaves at exactly 5, merely nodding at you as he leaves.

Jungkook sees you again that evening, four hours later as he drives home after having dinner with Seokjin and Taehyung, the brothers he’d grown up with. The office is on the way, and it’s near the bus stop where he spots you, trying to catch a cab that someone always gets to before you do.

The rain has started to pour, and his anxiety builds; he was never fond of it, given the memory it holds. But it’s you in your thin coat that suspends that for a while. You’re clearly shivering, unable to get a ride, and getting wet from the downpour. You cross the street, seemingly just submitting to the weather, and you disappear amongst the crowd of people just trying to get home.

He checks his phone as he gets a message and sees the email you sent 20 minutes ago - the presentation he’d asked you to submit in the morning. This is you, making up for today, he guesses. He’s why you’re braving the rain. If he’s being honest, he’s why you’re suffering at all, and he can’t help the way his heart stings at the thought.

The convenience store is bright and dry unlike the streets outside, and that’s why there’s a substantial amount of people seeking shelter from the downpour that came out of nowhere.

You welcome the rain. It served as a distraction when you were growing up and your mother’s ex-partner would yell nonstop. You’d hide in your room and cover your ears like your mother taught you to do. When she was able, she’d stay with you and cover your ears with her own hands and tell you that it’s gonna be okay, that even if you can’t stop the scary sounds, you can drown them out enough that they’ll stop bothering you.

You didn’t think you’d ever do so again but you’ve done that twice in one week, and all it took was one Jeon Jungkook to lecture you about what your job entails. He didn’t yell, but his voice was still piercing, firm and low as if he reserves that intensity for instances of pure frustration.

That kind of thing takes a lot out of someone. It’s different when a boss is out to abuse their power and take advantage of you. Mrs. Byun made you do her work so she could spend her lunches out and then take credit for outputs without acknowledging you. She sucked up to the directors to overcompensate for not knowing how to answer their questions. And then she had the guts to embarrass you and call you out in front of the team for not being able to do your primary tasks, which was only because you were doing hers. It took a while but her incompetence caught up to her and her departure felt like freedom. But the experience with her was constricting, suffocating, humiliating. It was dehumanizing, too, as you went home to an empty apartment every night, feeling less and less of yourself.

But the way Jungkook treats you hits differently. You’ve survived the worst and ended up in a good spot under Hoseok’s leadership where you built your confidence. During those years, you felt capable, like you were trusted; you felt that your hard work earned you respect.

Now, you feel all that crumbling. You feel exposed, bare; as if you’re realizing you’re not that good after all. How you’ve been isn’t like you. You’re meticulous, analytical; you’ve sat in so many meetings as an observer and know how things work, how the directors think, and the kinds of outputs expected from you. But recently, you find yourself just lost, questioning everything all the time, and so incapable.

You let yourself feel the burden weigh you down as you eat a small cup of noodles and call it dinner. You walk down the aisles and pick out your favorite snacks, first eating the roasted almonds as you head out the door.

The rain has let up, with but a drizzle left this late evening. You catch the bus and munch on pepero and chocopie this time. You’re in your neighborhood by the time you tear open the frosted mini donuts. You’ve been mindlessly eating the whole time, but once you get off your stop, you start walking towards the community center. The public library is closed but something about sitting outside the door gives you comfort, just like it used to when you were growing up.

Your mom couldn’t really afford daycare. She’d spend her lunch break picking you up from school then dropping you off at a library where her friend worked; that nice woman always looked after you until your mom came back to pick you up. Some days when she wanted to take you away from the mess that was her partner, she’d take you there, too.

You read mostly picture books and colored on your coloring book and played with your paper dolls. Even as you grew up, you didn't really read; you just liked that the library was quiet, comfortable, that it made you feel safe.

Your phone beeps and you see a photo that your mother has just sent of her dry living room floor.

[From: Mom] it isn’t leaking anymore!

You smile, imagining her sigh of relief and the way she’s probably humming about the house. You decide to call her; another bit of comfort would definitely help.

“Hi, darling,” she answers after the first ring. “Min-woo went to the hardware store when he arrived in the afternoon so he could fix the roof. What a relief.”

“That’s great, mom,” you reply, wishing you were back home with her. “You can have a good sleep tonight, then.”

“I will. What about you?”

“I hope so.”

“Have you had dinner?”

“Hmm, yeah,” you hum.

“And where are you now?”

“Outside the library,” you say.

There’s silence that comes after, a way in which you both say things without words sometimes. Your mom is good at that, and even if you can’t see her, you know there’s love in her eyes. And even if she can’t see you, she knows there’s sadness in yours.

“So, work has been tough lately, am I right?”

Even without any confirmation, she already knows. She probably knew when you said that everything was fine after she asked how things were going during your visit over the weekend. She probably picked up the faintness of your smile and the way you fell asleep on her lap while you both watched TV and she combed your hair like she always did.

“The new boss is quite hard on me,” you admit. “He expects too much, asks me to do too much… I’m trying but I keep making mistakes. I’m missing things I normally don’t. I’m not like this, mom. I… I’m better than this.”

“Oh, darling,” she sighs, wishing she’d hugged you a little tighter before you left. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Maybe you’re still adjusting. That’s valid, you know? It’s only been a week.”

“Yeah, but he acts like he’s the only one who needs to adjust and that I just magically know how to do things his way,” you groan. “It… it just makes me feel like I’m not good enough. That I… that I shouldn’t be here.”

“___, you didn’t suffer through your first few years there just so you would continue to doubt yourself,” she responds. “You deserve your role, regardless of what he thinks. You work hard and that means everything.”

“Not to him apparently. Even if I work hard, if it’s not up to his standards, it doesn’t mean anything. I can’t even do anything about it because he’s the CEO’s son.”

“You can quit, you know?” She says after a beat of silence. “You don’t have to stay if it’s too much, and especially if it’s unfair. Just because you know you can handle it, doesn’t mean you should.”

The thought settles in your head. You did just tell Jungkook that you’d rather he fire you, which honestly terrifies you because much as he’s insufferable, you do need this job. Helping your mom over the weekend reminded you of that. From the health insurance to the salary, you don’t have to worry too much because you can finally repay her for all her hard work in raising you, in protecting you, in surviving for you.

“I know,” you sigh. “Maybe I just let the tough first days get to me.”

“Whatever it is, you shouldn’t suffer. And you definitely shouldn’t suffer alone,” she advises. “I’m glad you came over during the weekend even if for unpleasant reasons. I got to hug you even if I didn’t know you needed it.”

“I always need it, mom,” you admit. “I don’t have to say it. It’s the only one I get anyway.”

“Well, it’s because it’s the only one you accept,” she points out.

“True,” you laugh. “But I… I’ll do better. I’ll get my head straight tonight and treat tomorrow like my first day and you know, show him I’m capable.”

“That’s good. And you can come over again this weekend if you want. The storm should be gone by then. The girls want to go to the park. I know they’d love to hang out with you. If you don’t have plans of course.”

“You know I only ever have actual weekend plans when Jimin and Soomin visit me. But yes, I can take the trip on Saturday. If Jungkook wants me to do any work… screw him.”

Your mother laughs, only because she knows you don’t mean it. You know it, too. Regardless of how you think of your boss or your job, you know the value of your work, and you’re not one to sacrifice it for any reason.

“Are you feeling better, darling?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “The rain’s stopped somehow. I needed to be here. And I… I needed to hear your voice.”

“Good. You know you can call whenever. I don’t have to summon you with photos of a roof or grilled makchang or something every time.”

“I know. And I will. I’ll see you soon.”

You drop the call and start walking back home. Talking with your mom is the strength you need to get through such a tough day. It doesn’t change your situation; maybe Jungkook will still be upset with you in the morning but you’ll handle it, just like you handled all the difficult times before.

Your mother taught you something else - it was grace. You’d fight back if you need to, but you can always do it with gentleness; sometimes that works wonders, especially if you can’t afford to respond with rage.

You’re quite nervous walking to Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning.

Before he left last night, you were sporting glassy and swollen eyes, after all; it wouldn’t have taken much for him to know what you were up to by being away from your desk for half an hour. But you’d been too upset to think of what he would think about it, so you acted like it was nothing when you returned to your seat, took note of his instructions, and watched him walk out. No other words were spoken and quite frankly, you don’t know what either of you could have said after what transpired. It’s a new day, though, and like you told your mother, you’ll just focus on your work and try to get that old version of yourself back, the one you’d felt slipped away this past week.

You enter the front door - as he’d told you to just go in so you don’t disrupt his workout - and immediately hear the loud sounds of leather hitting leather. He seems to be aggressively punching the sandbag, with more evidence of it coming in the form of his deep and successive breaths that you can hear as you walk towards the kitchen. You stop on your tracks, though, as a pair of red laced underwear lays crumpled on the floor.

That definitely wasn’t there yesterday morning so it must’ve been from last night. You’re not one to judge; he did have a frustrating day that you caused and releasing all that stress in this way is understandable. You just wish he had the courtesy to clean up, knowing that his assistant would be coming but then again, you also don’t know if that’s too much to ask of him.

You don’t realize that you’ve been staring at the underwear until you hear him, his deep breaths in tandem with his steps. You walk towards the counter and set him a glass of water before he notices what’s got your attention, but he still does, as he stops at the spot where you were and lets out a grunt.

From your periphery, you see him pick up the piece of lingerie then throw it in the trash. You turn to him and bow in greeting, and Jungkook merely nods, the slightest of head tilts to acknowledge your presence, seemingly avoiding your eyes, even as you ask what he prefers to eat this morning. You’d like to think that in the recesses of his bitter heart, there’s remorse over yesterday at least, if not over the past few days. But you’ll take it; his silence is better than anything at this moment.

You follow him towards his bedroom, stopping briefly as you look around and make sure you’re not intruding. You’re unsure if the woman is still here, but he picks up on that.

“She’s gone,” he says, walking to his bathroom. “I never make them stay.”

It’s a part of his life that you’ve only heard of. The gossip that Do-hyun hears from the washrooms in the office may be true, considering his weeknight bang and the left-behind underwear on the kitchen floor. He still had some energy based on his morning workout though, and you don’t know why the thought of him fucking someone and then boxing in the morning is making you feel hot all over.

You snap yourself out of it, knowing it’s inappropriate and definitely not what you should be worrying about. He’s a stressed, obviously attractive, and rich bachelor; you’re not surprised he’d have women at his beck-and-call and be nonchalant about it.

You walk inside his closet and choose the shoes and accessories he’ll wear today before heading back to the kitchen to prepare his breakfast. He walks in 30 minutes later, and you approach him to fix his collar and his tie like you always do, now getting used to his natural scent with hints of jasmine and bergamot. Your eyes focus on the silk necktie, hoping you’re able to control your nervous breathing being this close to him.

He may still be annoyed at you and you may be invading his space, and the realization makes you step away quickly, taking his plate from the counter and placing it on the dining table. You open your iPad and go through the presentation he asked you to do, surprised that he’s already added a few things.

“Is the presentation final, Mr. Jeon?” You ask. “I see you’ve already looked through it.”

“Sort of,” he responds. “I woke up at 5 and reviewed it before my workout. Let’s go over them now.”

He looks through his iPad as he eats, going over each slide with you as if he’s practicing. The more he speaks, the more you envision the Arts Center and how he wants it done. The way he puts together the ideas into a coherent design is impressive. You almost see it as he does, and much as you thoroughly dislike him right now, for the sake of all the good things that this center will do for people, you really want him to succeed.

You remind him of a few more things before he finishes his meal, and it’s not long after when you’re in the car, the silence thickening the tension between the two of you once more. This continues until you reach the office, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the distance between the both of you now.

While you do feel better, the anxiety remains. You don’t want to mess up. And as you enter his room to give him papers to sign and you see him going through his presentation while the leather notebook he was drawing on earlier lays open on the desk, you find yourself also just not wanting to disappoint him. He clearly works hard and despite his treatment of you, you want things to work out for him.

It’s an hour later when you’re both walking towards the elevator to head to the conference room on the CEO’s floor. It’s just Jungkook with his father and cousin today where he’ll present the initial plans for their comments and their verbal endorsement of the draft budget.

It’s a massive project that’s working within strict timelines and Jungkook is adamant on getting this ready by mid-next year. You can tell how much he wants to deliver this well - the board of directors would be his next audience and a boost of confidence would be much needed.

You make him a cup of coffee the way he likes and sit next to him. The distance allows you to keep your eyes away from him; with the pressure he’s under, you don’t exactly want to be close to where you can easily trigger him.

CEO Jeon and Hoseok arrive, greeting you with their bright smiles, a reprieve from the stoic looks and tight-lipped and furrowed brows you get from Jungkook everyday.

“Hi, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “A week has passed, huh? How has it been?”

“Challenging,” you say honestly, “but still good. I’m learning new things, Mr. Jeon.”

“That’s good,” he smiles, glancing at his son whose eyes are focused on his laptop. The elder seems unconvinced by your half smile but he nods, turning back to you. “By the way, I heard on the news that the typhoon hit your hometown pretty badly. How’s your mother and her family? Mr. Ri mentioned that there was an incident over the weekend. Is everything okay?”

You’re used to CEO Jeon asking things like this prior to meetings. He believes it’s a way to release certain feelings and not keep them hidden, and while you don’t really want to talk about it right now, you appreciate the concern.

“She, uh. A large tree fell over our house last Saturday,” you say, to the surprise of both CEO and President. “I had to travel in the morning to help my mom. A portion of the roof was damaged and she had to call a company to fix it. Min-woo and the girls were away and mom didn’t want to deal with the workers since she was alone so I had to stay over the weekend.”

“That’s unfortunate,” the elder Jeon laments. “How is your house now? And your mom?”

“The roof is sealed. But she slipped on some debris and had to be assisted; she was being stubborn about it. She’s okay, though.”

“Ah, it must’ve been a tough few days. And for you, too,” Hoseok says. “I mean, given all the work and then having to be there for her. I’m sorry, ___. But I’m glad she’s doing better. Tell her I send my regards, okay?”

“I will, thank you.”

Jungkook tries not to look affected as the older men ask you more details about what happened that he, of course, didn’t know about. There’s that guilt over how he treated you yesterday, learning now what you had to do over the weekend. You don’t seem the type to blame any oversight or mistake on something like that, but he would know that the tiredness and preoccupation could definitely affect things. Even more, he’d implied that you don’t work hard and that you’re being a burden to him, which is far from the truth.

The conversation ends and he’s unable to look at you, as he stands from his seat to begin his presentation. Everything is set up, including a pointer and a marker and a glass of warm water on his side. He proceeds, presenting his design, the materials, the budget, and the timeline.

You take note of all his answers to the questions and the ideas he comes up with on the spot, with him repeating things and stating how he wants certain points written down. You’re immersed in your own task, feeling like you’ve found your rhythm because you’ve done this so many times but the fear got ahead of you. This morning, it’s as if you’re in your element again, and there’s relief that fills you this time.

The meeting is moved to a restaurant after the third hour. There’s an event that the CEO suggests that Jungkook’s team organize as a way to build linkages with the arts and culture networks, making sure that the younger Jeon becomes known in those fields as well.

You have to go by memory as you listen and eat your meal, but the distance from Jungkook remains. You merely nod at his words and avoid looking at him unless you need to. It’s your way of getting over last night, you think. You still have his look of frustration etched in your mind and it’s still a bit fresh; you’d need at least another day before you can look at him normally again. You hope that other than Jungkook himself, no one notices.

But you suppose you’ve underestimated Hoseok’s ability to pick up on your behavior; it’s one of his strengths as a leader, after all. He’s always been good at reading people, a skill that Jungkook clearly didn’t develop.

“Hey.”

“Mr. Jung,” you greet, a wave of nostalgia hitting you because his smile is one you used to see everyday, regardless of how stressed he was. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“No, not really. It’s just been over a week but I’m still getting used to the bigger office and the new secretary but I just wanted to check in,” Hoseok says. “You and Jungkook have been very busy, I rarely catch either of you.”

“Well, he wanted to get all the introductions out of the way so he can focus on the Arts Center,” you reply. “There’s a lot happening with that one so he’s in meetings and calls all the time.”

“Ah, of course. It’s a good design and I’m sure it’ll boost the local arts scene. He got inspired during his travels in the Southeast Asia sites and has been talking about it for years. It’s good he has the freedom to work on this now.”

You merely nod, not having much to say about your boss’ passion project that’s just made him angry and frustrated. Quite frankly, you don’t know how he is when he isn’t working on such high-pressure matters, but you can already tell he isn’t someone you’d want to be around in any other context.

“But how about you? Are you getting enough rest? All these meetings and then traveling home on the weekend is tiring, ___. I hope you’re looking out for your health.”

“I am,” you try to assure him. “I can handle it.”

You smile before shifting your eyes to your desktop screen, not wanting to look at him any longer because a second more and you’d probably burst into tears. Experiencing Hoseok’s kindness for these few minutes has just reminded you of what you constantly miss - that feeling of safety and care, of someone looking out for you and not holding you back.

“I’m glad you are,” he smiles again, holding your gaze when you glance at him, and Hoseok hopes that in this short moment of calm, he’s able to give comfort that he just knows you need. “Anyway, I just wanted to drop by. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“I’ll see you, Hoseok.” And as if you knew why he came over in the first place, you add, “and thank you.”

Jungkook sighs in frustration as he watches your fading smile before returning to type away on your desktop. He was about to call you to ask for a project portfolio on the shelf but stopped once he saw you talking to his cousin. You seemed a tad bit lighter than usual; Jungkook could only assume it’s your natural state, even if all he’s seen of you is that of perpetual worry and stress.

He thinks to himself that a part of that is because of him. Maybe a big part, he admits. He wouldn’t have known about your town in Daegu or that your mother resides there and that you had to go home over the weekend, hence, your oversight yesterday. He’s at least decent enough to acknowledge that he shouldn’t have been so harsh on you in the first place. He’s just not used to things not going his way; he wonders now what the people under him suffered through to make sure of that.

Not wanting to disturb you, he decides to get the portfolio himself, so he exits his room and leans on your desk, his eyebrows scrunched as he reads through the spine labels of the folders. He doesn’t notice you stand up and attempt to ask what he needs but he does find it, reaching over on the third shelf for it.

“I could’ve gotten that for you,” you huff.

Jungkook spots a small pout as you utter the words, disarming him a little.

“It’s… it’s fine,” he mumbles, willing his mind to go back to what he was thinking about before you said something, which is the other project he wants to look at.

But you pick up on his words. “Seongbuk, 2021,” you repeat.

You look up and know exactly where the portfolio for that project is. You drag your stool with your foot and walk up the steps, carefully pulling out the folder and underestimating just how heavy it is. But before it can slip out of your fingers, Jungkook gets a hold of it, his right hand gripping the spine while his left palm supports your back.

You stiffen when you realize just how close he is to you then step down the stool, somehow nervous to look at him.

“I, uh, sorry. You were about to fall.”

You stiffen again because he didn’t just apologize, did he? Your eyes are glued to the ground and you don’t see Jungkook’s surprised look.

Because he did just that. What felt more alarming than his apology was that it had been a reflex for him to have his hand behind you, his heart leaping a bit because you really were close to falling. An injured version of you isn’t something he wants to deal with, and he convinces himself that it’s because it would look absolutely terrible for his assistant to get hurt on the job, and especially in his presence.

“Is that all you need, Mr. Jeon?”

“Uh, yes,” he responds. “Be, uh, be careful.”

He takes both folders and heads back to his room, his face buried in the pages as you sneak a glance at him from the window.

“So, how’s the second week as VP going?” Hoseok asks his cousin from across the table of their favorite Japanese restaurant during their Friday lunch. “Worse than the first?”

Jungkook, not keen on answering truthfully, merely shrugs.

“Well, I can bet you though that ___ is definitely having it worse than last week.”

“Did she say anything? About me specifically?” Jungkook asks, his curious eyes telling Hoseok that it’s more of concern than anger.

“Of course not. She’s there to protect you, Kook, not tell on you. Is there something to say? About you specifically?”

Jungkook knows how well his cousin can read people, especially him. They’d grown up together after all, and had gotten close because the older man always stayed next to him, knowing how shy little Jungkook used to be. So he narrates what happened - that he’d gotten angry, that he was being too strict, that he wasn’t leaving you room for adjustment. He’d of course excluded his own oversight and need to establish distance and authority, chalking it up to not having the familiarity and conveniences he’d been used to back in Singapore.

“I feel like working with father even closer now, it’s like I’m under a microscope,” Jungkook continues. “I don’t wanna mess up. I just don’t wanna give him a reason to criticize or question me.”

“Well, if he learns about how it’s been with ___, he’ll do exactly those things,” Hoseok responds. “He cares about his people, you know? I’m sure that’s the one thing he wants you to do right.”

“Can’t say I’d know. It’s not like he’s any more compassionate than I am. We’re talking about a man who yells at the managers who can’t get things done right.”

“They were abusing their power, that’s why,” Hoseok explains. “And I’m not here to defend the man - I’ve been on the receiving end of his anger twice and saw how he’d push people to their near breaking point a few times but he’s not a terrible person. I’ve seen him be understanding and caring to his staff way more; you just haven’t been around that much.”

“It’s not what I saw growing up.”

“Well, we remember what we want, and forget the parts that don’t make sense to us.”

Jungkook stays silent as he munches on his steak.

“He wants to get closer to you, you know?” Hoseok continues. “He hopes that with you being around, he can mentor you, learn from you. All those years that you were home, you felt so far away from him, farther away than Jeong-sik who wasn’t even here, and he doesn’t know why.”

“He can’t expect to be a rich, ambitious businessman and be close to his son,” Jungkook huffs. “All he ever cared about when I was growing up was work. Sure, he had rare good moments, but we all know it was to compensate for always being too busy. He pressured me to do well at school then missed awarding ceremonies. He scheduled some family time then left me and my brother in some cabin in the woods by ourselves. He wants to work with me here then disallows my requests. What does he want from me?”

“Your time, I suppose. Maybe your understanding, too.”

“Did he give those to me when I was younger? He had so many chances these past 30 years and he wants those now?”

“People are complicated, Kook. Sometimes they lose sight of what’s important, of what’s in front of them… doesn’t mean they’re bad people,” Hoseok says. “And it doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a second chance. I mean, don’t we all want that? Don’t we all grow out of our bad habits and just yearn for something good?”

“Not everyone does that.”

“Maybe not, but your father has. And he just wants another chance. And whether or not it was her fault, I’m sure ___ wants that, too.”

“Did you really ask me to treat you to lunch only to advocate for the people I don’t really care much about?” Jungkook laughs bitterly.

“No,” Hoseok chuckles. “I really wanted to try it here. But also, uncle took me out to drinks before you arrived and was all honest with me, which was a little weird but I guess he thought he could get some perspective from you through me. And ___ was my assistant and I think highly of her. It’s upsetting how things started for you both. I guess I just feel kind of caught in the middle between you and the people you actually care about. So yes, I deserve this free lunch.”

Jungkook doesn’t correct his cousin, more for the fact that Hoseok really does get caught in the middle - always has, even between him and his older brother whom Jungkook never really got along with; it definitely isn’t because he acknowledges that he cares about you. There’s no reason for him to feel that; you’re just his assistant, after all.

Being beautiful and capable and hardworking doesn’t have anything to do with being cared about.

“I… I admit being too hard on ___. I get that she’s good and stuff but maybe that fits with your leadership style more,” Jungkook tries to reason. “Maybe she just thrives in a team where she’s led by someone like you, someone who’s good with people and who’s process-oriented and I don’t know, someone who isn’t as tough or meticulous like me.”

“I’m sorry, Kook, but you sound stupid. You clearly don’t know anything about her. She’s experienced all the lows - the disrespect from the men, the abuse of power from the women, all the long hours and ridiculous deadlines, the loudest of yells and the craziest demands,” Hoseok exclaims. “She’s been here for just eight years but it feels more. Sometimes I don’t know why she stayed but I’m glad she did, selfishly, and that’s because she helped me so much. Are you… are you giving her reasons to leave so you can have Lucas with you?”

“No,” Jungkook dismisses the thought, although he does admit it entered his mind before he even started. “I’m just… not used to her. And the mishaps didn’t help. I just wanna be able to do my job and do it right.”

“And you will, if you just loosen up a bit and give her a chance to show you that she can help you. It’s just that I’m not seeing that same joy and energy in her eyes and her smile,” Hoseok explains. “I was thinking last Wednesday that maybe it was because of her mom but during the meeting this morning, it was the same. I’d hate to think that’s because of you. Because if it is and she’s thinking of resigning, I won’t stop her. I might even suggest it to her. “

The thought of you being gone causes a lump in Jungkook’s throat. It’s selfish, really, because despite how he treats you, he still wants you here. It’s just as silly, and stupid, and something he doesn’t have a clear reason for. But other than his cousin not trusting that he could treat you fairly, it’s the possibility that you might just quit yourself, something you seem to be capable and willing to do. And that voluntary departure is something he doesn’t want to deal with. Once you leave, you’ll just be gone; he won’t have a reason to seek you.

“I’ll do better,” Jungkook finally says. “I’ll stop being such a pain in the ass and be… kinder, I guess.”

“She’ll probably see right through you if you fake it,” Hoseok laughs. “Just be fair. Trust me, that’s what she’d want, too. Correct her if you need to, but do it constructively. And please, try to smile every once in a while. It won’t hurt you. Nor would it ruin whatever tough guy image you have.”

Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes but he lets out a chuckle. His cousin won’t ever let go of the fact that 18-year old Jungkook had his first tattoo because he wanted to look tough.

“I still have to establish authority, Hoseok. I can’t do it like you do.”

“Well, you’re missing out. Smiling always makes you feel a hundred times better.”

“She’ll probably see right through me if I fake it,” Jungkook repeats his cousin’s words almost mockingly. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows I’m not… cheerful. It’s like, how I’m compared to you.”

The two start walking back and Hoseok takes a jab at the younger man. “Actually, I heard that I’m the handsome one, too, and the stable guy, the family man, the man you’d take home to meet your parents…”

Jungkook laughs along. He agrees, and while it was not Hoseok’s intention at all, it does make Jungkook wonder even hours later - given all the things that characterize him, which are nothing like the older man’s - who would want him? Who would even take a chance on him? Who would even think it’s worth it to be with him?

Chaerin did, and then he self-sabotaged and lost her. Maybe the women he meets at clubs and takes home, but then all they want is a good time anyway, just like him. Maybe it’s someone he’s never met, but he also doesn't know how to be someone that someone else would love.

Maybe there isn’t any. And maybe that isn’t so bad. Perhaps he’d have to start getting used to that fact; it’s easier than realizing he’s not meant to be with someone after all.

He pauses the thought and decides that’s for the weekend version of him to lament over. This Friday afternoon, he’s focused on firming up the project details with the design and logistics teams. He’d just finished his meeting with them, with you barely looking his way just like you’ve done throughout the week - which he can’t fault you for because he was doing the same - and he’s back in his room to coordinate with other units.

You, on the other hand, seem to be fixated on the quarterly reports that you’ll be handing over to him. It’s past 5 and he knows you’ll be staying up late again, given that he’d ordered you at the start of the week to finish the reviews by Friday. He’s given you too much to do, and after everything he’s done, letting you off early is a way for him to apologize without actually apologizing.

He picks up the phone and calls you.

“How many reports do you have left to review?” He asks.

“Three more, Mr. Jeon,” you answer. “I’ll finish them tonight, please just give me another hour and a half.”

“Are you going home to see your mother tomorrow?”

“Uh, yes, sir. I leave in the morning,” you say, curious at the question that you never thought he’d ask.

“You should clock out now, then.”

“Oh, but the reports, sir. I—”

“It’s okay,” he says, surprising you. “I’ll be busy with Arts Center details this weekend so I won’t have time to sign off on the reports anyway so you can continue them on Monday.”

You’re too shocked to speak that it doesn’t register that you’re indeed not saying anything.

“Ms. Cho?” Jungkook repeats your name.

“Oh, uh, yes, as long as it’s okay, Mr. Jeon.”

“Yes, that’s what I just said.”

“That’s, uh, thank you,” you mumble, turning on your roller chair to retrieve your bag and start packing, only to look up and see through the window that Jungkook can see you right now, smiling like a giddy child. There’s this movie that’ll show on your favorite local channel and you’re glad that you’ll be able to catch it tonight.

You’re unsure what Jungkook’s eaten to be dismissing you this early. Maybe it was the lunch he had with Hoseok earlier; maybe it was the older man knocking some sense into him. You don’t have the energy to think about it, given that you now also have time to cook yourself proper dinner and enjoy eating it while watching and curling under your comfy blanket on your tiny couch, just like how you used to enjoy your Fridays.

You’ll deal with the unreviewed reports and Jungkook returning to his normal, grumpy self on Monday. Tonight is all about you, and the weekend version of you is about being with your mother, her partner, and your stepsisters. There’s nothing like being with the people who make you feel safe; you’ll deal with the stress when a new week rolls by.

Jungkook watches you excitedly leave your desk. He can’t imagine the relief you’re feeling of being relieved this early and then spending your Friday evening the way you want, however that is. He lets himself wonder for a bit how you would spend time by yourself. Yoongi did say your friends aren’t in Seoul and your family obviously isn’t.

But then again, maybe you do have a partner, and maybe that’s why you looked as happy as you did. He’s not quite sure what to do with the slight distress at the thought, but with the absurdity of the amount of times he thinks about you, he decides it shouldn’t matter anyway.

He has his own plans, too, like watching sports over bottles of beer that night, and then playing video games the next day before going to a bar with Seokjin and Taehyung.

That Sunday, he works all morning then works out in the afternoon. In the evening, he decides to meet his friends again.

Entering the club, he spots the table where they are - Seokjin has his arm around a woman and his lips glued to her ear; he pulls her closer as she laughs at his words. Taehyung has one next to him, too; they’re engaged in some serious conversation, it seems, given how passionately they’re talking to each other. That is, until his hand slides inside her dress; maybe it wasn’t that deep.

Jungkook doesn’t know how his friends can converse with the women they find in these places. Given, Seokjin tends to stick to the same one for months and Taehyung is just naturally flirty and friendly so maybe it’s not that hard.

For Jungkook, it’s just not something he’s able to fully or even properly do. What does he say? He’d brag about his work and his lifestyle if he was the type, but he isn’t, and there’s nothing else about him that he’d like to share. He’s always straightforward when it comes to these things. He’s picky; he does have a type, after all, but he always knows what they want and so do they.

So when he spots a woman by the bar - the one who’d bought him a drink last night - he just smirks as she takes her shot and bites her lips when she catches him looking.

“Hey, I finally caught you sober,” she giggles in his ears after she meets him halfway.

“And I finally caught you without a man next to you,” he whispers. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah, he was just my plaything last night,” she responds. “I could be yours.”

Jungkook chuckles, enjoying her bluntness. He takes her hand and waves at his friends; they already know he’s taking off and they won’t hear from him for the rest of the night.

It’s the way most of his evenings go anyway, whether he’s here or in Singapore or elsewhere, really.

Jungkook likes the thrill, he likes the shallow intimacy he gets from the feelings of ecstasy and carnal desire. He likes that he doesn’t have to share anything about himself apart from his name so they could scream it, likes that there’s nothing about the other person to uncover, and that there’s nothing about himself he has to be honest about. He likes that he’ll remember the pleasure until the next day but nothing else - not her breathing, not her gentle touches on his chest, not her soft whispers of his name.

There’s nothing much about her he’ll care for other than that she had a good time. And there’s nothing about tonight he’ll regret, except not making sure that she left his apartment like he always asks them to do.

Because it’s Monday morning, and there’s that woman wearing his coat and nothing else.

And then there’s you, dressed in your skirt and blouse in his living room, with a look of shock on your pretty face.

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yxngbxkkie · 7 months

Note

Hello! Love your writing! I was reading through the prompts and I think #4 and #7 would be awesome for Chan with y/n.

If you’re still doing drunk confessions. I think 4 and 13 for Channie would be so apt. He would be taking care of reader when they’ve had too much and they just word vom (as well as real vom) their feelings.

Hi!! I don’t know if you are still doing the drunk prompts, but if you are I think #4 "I would love to hear those words in any other place than this bathroom, holding your hair back” would be great with Chan. I think it would be really cute to have him saying those words to someone because that seems so him, but whatever works! I just love reading your stuff! 💕

number 4 with channie was requested a lot so i combined all of the prompts together. i do hope you like it!! thank you again for requesting 💓

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

4. "I would love to hear those words in any other place than this bathroom, holding your hair back."

7. "Don't tell my sober me that I told you I love you. It was a secret."

13. "Say that again after two coffees at least, and I will be yours."

"Have you seen Channie?" You drunkenly ask your friend, glancing around the packed bar. She stands on her toes and begins to look for him as well, resting her hand on your forearm.

"I think he's by the bar, babe. You okay?" She checks in with you, and you meet her gaze.

You nod your head yes before placing a kiss on her cheek. "I'm good! I'm gonna go find him," you giggle and pat her shoulder.

She gives you a smile as you walk closer towards the bar. You swivel your head around at the sound of Chan's laugh, attempting to pinpoint where it came from.

The man in question sits with Changbin at the end of the bar. A smile comes to your lips as you quickly rush to them. You rest your hands on Chan's shoulders as soon as you reach them.

"Channie! There you are," you grin and slide your hands across his chest. Chan giggles at your affection, his fingers gliding along your arm.

"Were you looking for me?" He questions you with a laugh, turning his head to the side.

You nod your head, letting it rest on his shoulder. "Wanna take a couple of shots?" You ask him with a slight smirk.

"You know I don't drink, sweetheart," Chan sighs, tapping your arm gently.

A pout comes to your lips as you lift your head. "Just one?" You try to convince, hanging on him like he's a tree.

Chan shakes his head and releases a quick sigh. "You know I won't," he sings, moving to wrap his arm around your waist.

"Fine, fine," you whisper.

Changbin leans towards you, tapping your arm. "I'll take a shot with you," he says with a smile, and your eyes light up.

"Yeah!?" You gasp, tripping over your feet as you rush towards the younger member.

Channie saves you from falling over, his grip on you tightening. "Maybe we should stop for the night," he tries to stop you, glancing towards his member.

"No! Just one more?!" You beg, resting an arm on Changbin.

"One more," Chan points before wagging his finger. "And then we go home, okay?"

You nod excitingly and turn to face Changbin. The two of you high-five one another before he orders two shots of tequila. The bartender sets two shots in front of you, and you quickly grab one.

After Changbin pays for it, he raises his shot glass towards you. "Cheers!" He shouts, startling you slightly before downing the liquor.

You slam the shot glass onto the bartop, releasing a low groan. "God, I hate tequila," you cry out with a laugh.

Chan chuckles and rests his hands on your shoulders. "Come on. Say goodbye," he reminds you softly.

You say goodbye to Changbin, and Chan leads you out of the bar. You fish your phone out from your pocket, texting your friend that you left safely.

Chan keeps you steady until you reach the vehicle. He opens the door for you, keeping his hand nearby in case you need help. He shuts the door after you buckle yourself in before rushing towards the other side.

He gives you a small smile after buckling his seatbelt. The vehicle begins to move, and you rest your head against the seat. Chan texts the group chat he has with the members, informing him that he's left with you.

A blush dusts his cheeks as they start making comments about the two of you being alone together. He rolls his eyes before putting his phone away, turning his head to look at you.

"Are you feeling alright?" Chan asks you, his hand gently touching your cheek.

"I'm a little nauseous," you say quietly, trying not to think about vomiting.

Chan pouts and checks the navigation. "We'll be home in ten minutes," he informs you, moving some of your hair out of your face. "Take deep breaths for me, okay?"

You nod your head, inhaling deeply through your nose. You exhale from your lips, keeping your eyes shut. You continue to take deep breaths for the remainder of the drive.

Chan helps you out of the back seat once the vehicle is parked. Another groan leaves your lips as soon as you stand up straight. You lean your head on Chan's shoulder while the two of you walk into the building.

"Almost there, sweetheart," he whispers to you, his free hand gently rubbing your back.

The urge to throw up doesn't hit you until you're standing outside his apartment door. You place a hand over your mouth and smack Chan's arm.

"Hurry, please," you sob.

Chan's movements speed up at the sound of your voice. He quickly unlocks the front door, allowing you to run inside. You rush into the bathroom, falling to your knees before you violently throw up.

Tears stream down your cheeks, and heavy pants leave your lips. Chan combs his fingers through your hair, holding it out of your face. You throw up again, and Chan immediately rubs your back.

"I'm sorry," you groan, resting your forehead against your hand.

He giggles from behind you and gently scratches your back. "It's okay, baby. You're okay," Chan reassures you.

You feel well enough to rest your back against the wall. Chan moves to kneel in front of you, setting one of his hands on your knee. "I love you," you whisper, touching his fingers gently.

His heart jumps in his chest at your confession. Chan flips his hand over and laces his fingers with yours. "You know," he starts, the smile on his lips widening, "I would love to hear those words in any other place than this bathroom, holding your hair back."

A laugh comes from your lips, your eyes staying glued on your intertwined fingers. "I shouldn't have told you that," you mumble, tapping his hand with your thumb. "Don't tell sober me that I told you I love you. It was a secret."

Chan giggles and nods his head. "I won't say a word," he zips his lips.

The sun abruptly wakes you from your slumber. A groan leaves your lips while raising a hand to block the sun. You shift your body to face the opposite direction when Chan walks into the room.

"Morning," he whispers to you with a smile.

You smile fondly at him. "Morning, Channie."

He places a cup of coffee on the nightstand before crouching down. "How are you feeling?" Chan asks with a concerned look in his eyes.

"I've got a huge headache, but other than that, I'm okay," you tell him, hugging the pillow.

"That's good, baby," he grins and rubs your forearm. Your heart pounds against your chest as the two of you stare at one another. Chan brings his hand to your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "I love you."

Your eyes flutter shut at his words. "Say that again after two coffees at least, and I will be yours," you mumble, opening your eyes again.

Chan giggles but nods his head in agreement. He stands back up and hands you the coffee mug. "Come out when you're ready," he tells you before kissing your forehead.

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

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wordbunch · 11 months

Text

how they care for you when you’re sick/injured but refuse to rest

a/n: requested by @tolkien-fantasy!! 💕 since i already did sth quite similar with Frodo/Sam/Merry/Pippin, this time I decided to include only the “big guys”, aka Aragorn, Boromir, Faramir, Éomer and Legolas. Also Fíli doesn't go here but I decided he will be here.☺️ I hope you enjoy, let me know your thoughts and opinions, and reblogs are always super appreciated!!!🥰🥰🥰

Aragorn: He is literally just like that, even if he’s unwell he will keep pushing, and that is exactly why he immediately notices you do it too, and decides to put a stop to it. As much as he is loving and supportive and always respects your opinions and wishes, he is not taking ‘no’ for an answer when he deems that you really need to rest and recover. Luckily for you, he’s a legendary healer, so you will probably get better relatively soon. If he’s able to give you 100% of his attention and time during your recovery, he will literally feed you if he needs to, just so that you don’t exhaust yourself even more. Also he will quickly hush you if you begin to protest and insist that you’re fine and really have things to do! Sorry, king’s orders! Not just that, he will most definitely have your favorite food made for you, so that you don’t have to lift a finger (even though you want to).

Boromir: You were both extremely busy on the day when Gondor was preparing for some big festival, and amid your errands you sprained your ankle, but you brushed it off because you wanted to personally oversee the flower arrangements. For the first and only time you were thankful not to see Boromir half the day because you knew he would make a small fuss about it immediately, so you limped on until you accidentally ended up tripping and stumbling backwards into a familiar strong chest. He looked at you suspiciously while you attempted to just brush it off as being clumsy, but he thought you looked a little bit pale and was not convinced. Before you could keep convincing him, he picked you up bridal style and carried you to your bed, having seen right through your act. Sadly he couldn’t have stayed with you the whole time as there were still some things to prepare, but he ran to you as often as he could to check if you were still resting, and to attack you with a flurry of reassuring kisses. Later in the evening he will 100% cuddle you until you both fall asleep wrapped up in each other, and he has no trouble carrying you around for days so that you don’t have to put weight on your injured leg - he enjoys doing it!

Legolas: Injuries and illnesses are not exactly something he is very familiar with, but he knows enough to be aware that they require rest and recuperation! His senses are sharp and he notices if you wince one time, and he is there in an instant. He will ask you what is wrong, what you need, etc. As much as Legolas he understands your restlessness and the constant need to be up and about, he needs you to understand that he’s worried and doesn’t want your condition to get worse. If it’s something very serious, he will immediately call Aragorn for help, but if it’s something minor, he thinks he should be able to handle it and support you through it. Before you know it, you’re not allowed to do anything under his watchful gaze but you’re bored!! No problem, though, he is more than ready to entertain you in any way he can, even if it means he has to sing you all the elvish songs since the beginning of time (and you will make good use of his promise to do that!).

Éomer: Oh that is literally his BRAND because he’s out there being unstoppable even when something is wrong - and he is not letting his beloved be like that, not on his watch! He is also the type to carry you to bed despite your protests and you being like “I’m fine!” And he is like, alright then, but even if you’re fine, that doesn’t mean you can’t get some rest! No amount of your pouting is going to make him let up. Eventually when you finally admit you’re in pain, he will fuss over you a bit and he will literally try to cook something (he feels better when he can take action) and before you know it he’s making 4 different kinds of tea at the same time and things seem a bit chaotic… When you ask whether he’s sure he doesn’t need any help, he will insist that you just go and rest and that he has everything under control. Needless to say, you didn’t get to eat/drink everything that he started making cause he failed at many things, but you appreciate the love that went into it regardless!

Faramir: He can notice that something is off within like 0.3 seconds and multiple times throughout the day he will ask how you’re feeling and if something is wrong because he can sense that something is off, but he knows you well enough to know that you’d prefer to keep going on about your day, even when in pain. And then when you almost pass out you finally admit that you’re not feeling well, and you know he will immediately drop whatever else he is doing and just focus on you as much as he can until you’re perfectly recovered. More likely than not he is immediately looking for Aragorn because he is NOT taking any risks; although you try to reassure him that it might not be necessary. He knows how to be persistent and when he gives you puppy eyes with those gorgeous teal blue eyes… you have no choice but to let him do his thing.

Fíli: When it comes to you he is a very worried person and he likes to keep an eye on you as much as he can, so it doesn't take him long to become aware that you're acting...different. He is especially fussy if you get injured, and he will push everything and everyone else aside to nurse you back to health, and it literally becomes his number one priority. Fíli won''t hesitate to be even a little bit harsh if anyone comes to bother you or ask something of you before you're 100% recovered, so sometimes you gently reprimand him for it - you feel well enough to go and keep doing things! But good luck trying to convince him!

✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense @starlady66 @queenmeriadoc @entishramblings @thesolarangel @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place @valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3 @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @sillyvampireboi

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strongheartneteyam · 11 months

Text

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader

Chapter 4

CW: jealous neteyam, angst, restless neteyam, obsessive and toxic behavior, mentions of violence, neteyam's current mental health is not the best out there (let's put it that way), the word "bloody" being mentioned in someone's thoughts, TRIGGER WARNING for dubious consent and slight NON CON, angry thoughts, melancholic reader, hints of depression on reader, anxious reader, mentions of breeding kink, reader thinking a lot about neteyam, reader finds out she's crushing on neteyam, reader is afraid of neteyam + attracted to him, neteyam stepping over reader's boundaries, creepy yandere vibes, slight nudity, sexual tension, neteyam almost trying to have sex with reader (if you squint)

Not proofread… as always 😂 I'm so sorry PLS don't give up on me, my babies! My readers are my lil rays of sunshine! No false praising here, I'm way too much of an honest, and sometimes blunt bih to do that! Ahaha you guys have changed my life. Having you guys reading my stories, appreciating my art… I'm still speechless. I love y'all until the end! 🥲🥺🫀💕 when I'm sad, you guys cheer me up with your comments, reblogs, asks, likes… I'm forever thankful ✨ I'm sending A BIG KITH to everyone that commented on the other chapters! I didn't have enough time and mental/physical health to answer everyone bc I've been going through some tough things in my personal life lately. Like, REAL tough. But I always do my best to try and show my gratitude to all of you <3 hope you enjoy this chapter. Leave comments below if u wanna I LOOOOVE READING YOUR COMMENTS 🥰💕💕💕

Chapter 3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Watching me, wanting me

I can feel you pull me down

Fearing you, loving you

I won't let you pull me down

Haunted (Evanescence)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Hours had passed since Neteyam Suli had appeared to you in the window of the kitchen you worked in.

It was late at night already and you should be sleeping but, you just could not stop thinking about what had happened. How weird it had been to see a real na'vi - not an Avatar - real close. How odd he looked in your eyes, massive in size and so, so blue...

You laughed alone in your small room in the back of the laboratory after taking a quarter of a second to realize that the thought you just had was actually really funny.

Neteyam looked like a huge and thick brushstroke of sky blue paint. Still, he was… incredibly beautiful. He was eerie, weird looking compared to the human guys you're used to, but… something about him made his face linger on your mind.

You did not know how it was possible that you were finally having to admit to yourself that you felt attracted to Neteyam Suli, even after he appeared to you only once and, let's not forget, he appeared completely unanticipated, saying he had seen you before, multiple times.

You knew that raised like a billion red flags. Yet still, even though you did not feel safe enough to trust him or let your hair down when he was around, he intrigued you immensely.

༊⁀➷

You woke up the next morning feeling anxious. You did not know what it was exactly, but, lately, you had not only been depressed, but anxious too. You knew you probably would be diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety if you cared to go to the mental health department of the laboratory, but the thing was… you did not care to. You did not want to. The real reason for your lingering sadness was already so familiar to you: you did not like the life you were living.

You looked to be free like the na'vi. To not have deadly boring obligations everyday, to not have to care so much about so many strict rules of what was socially acceptable and what was not. You thought your own race to be too complicated. Humans don't really say what they mean just so many times. Humans care too much about money and power when, in reality, deep down, we all know that's not what's gonna make us happy, what's gonna keep us warm in a cold night.

But you were never really like that.

Not to pretend you were a golden, precious jewel, so incredibly hard to find, so utterly different from everybody else but, in all honesty, as much as you did care about money and having a comfortable life - to some extent - you were never a greedy for riches kind of person. You had always felt perfectly happy and content to just have a few things to keep you cozy, like your earbuds, a good book, your favorite sweet treat… You liked it simple. Calm. Balanced.

You believed that everything needs to be balanced to work well.

Chaos and light. Pain and happiness.

People need all of it to learn, grow and live a good life, that doesn't get painfully boring and unbearable with time.

But humans lacked balance.

Too much greed, too little contentment. Too much hate, too little compassion. Too much selfishness, too little altruism. That's why your kind was, as unfortunate as it was, doomed to misery. The human race dug their own grave. God, they couldn't even respect and take care of their own planet, their own home, the place that kept them literally safe and steady in the middle of the immense galaxy, let alone being able to take care of each other, to consider other's feelings before their own because, sometimes, we all need to do it.

And that's one of the reasons why you admired the na'vi so much. They were so much more wise than your own race.

How many times you had wished, talking to yourself in the dark of the night, that you could have been born na'vi. Why was fate so cruel to you? You did not even believe in fate. But it is only an expression, anyway.

༊⁀➷

Neteyam was tossing around on his mat since he went back home from training.

Yesterday he was way too busy to try and go see you or at least watch you from afar.

Sometimes he truly felt exhausted from his hectic routine and just wished he could be like Lo'ak and the other Omatikaya young men and just be able to relax more, to have more free time to engage in hobbies or, Eywa... to have more time to sleep... Sometimes he went back home all sore. He was as athletic as one can be but it did not mean he could not feel jaded after pushing himself too hard.

But Neteyam tried to always keep in mind the noble, sacred reason why he did all that. He was going to be the next leader of his clan, a privileged position, blessed by the Great Mother. A position that so many wished to have and he was lucky enough to be waiting to take on.

He was the current Olo'eyktan's son. It was a gift, he should not be ungrateful. He felt bad for thinking that was exactly what he was being... His father, Jake, was Toruk Makto. He was brave enough to earn that title. Neteyam felt it was his duty to be as brave and fearless as his father, to honor him and all his efforts to defend their tribe from any danger, specially from the Sky People.

Everything was going as usual, if it was not for only one thing: Lo'ak seemed to be suspicious of the fact that Neteyam was out for so many hours, almost everyday (meaning, every time he was free to just do whatever he wanted and not training to become the next Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya) and nobody had a clue of where he was.

His parents seemed to be too busy being the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk to notice something seemed off about Neteyam's behavior lately. And it is understandable. It was anything but easy to be the clan leader and the clan healer and spiritual leader. Mo'at was getting old and had passed the position of Tsahìk to Neytiri a while ago. So, Jake and Neytiri already were making such a huge effort to be able to live up to their duties, be parents of a little girl, Tuktirey, three teenagers and still keep their sanity. It was a lot, indeed. But they tried as hard as they could to still be good enough for their clan, their family and for each other, as a mated couple.

Neteyam decided he was way too restless to be able to sleep that night. He could not stop thinking about the way that human male talked to you, looked at you... He wondered if he really was your mate. He was not sure but if what he thought when he saw you two together was true, he knew it would not be a problem. He hated to get violent, his natural self was calm and composed. But he was going to fight for you, and, if it needed to get bloody, then so be it.

He decided to go outside his and his family's home, to breathe some cold, fresh eclipse air. It helped him to calm down a bit but it was not enough. He missed you. Like crazy. Deeply. He craved your scent… your delicious human scent. He did not even believe he was saying that about the way a human smelled. But he would always insist in saying you were different. You had a na'vi heart. Just like his father, back when he was still all pink and small.

He decided he wanted… no, he needed to see you. And it could not wait. It had to be now. He craved you and that craving would not go away like that. It was stronger than his rational brain. You woke up his animal side more than anything else did. He wanted to mate with you as soon as possible. He dreamt about the day he would be able to breed you, have you carrying his offspring on your womb. He would make you so happy, give you everything you've ever wanted, everything you need. And while you were still not permanently living inside your Avatar body, he still wanted to have you, even if it meant having you in your demon form. You were a pretty, lovely demon. His cute, sweet demon girl. His yawntutsyìp. (little loved one)

༊⁀➷

You just could not believe it was really happening, how the hell you got into those circumstances.

Right before that moment, you were almost sleeping peacefully, finally (you know that state when you're not awake nor asleep?), after having been awake, tossing around on your bed for hours for the most ridiculous reason you could ever think of: you were undeniably crushing on that weird alien boy. Neteyam Suli.

Yes, he acted like a creep when he tapped on your window. You knew it was pathetic but… he just would not leave your mind. He was shamefully living rent free in your brain. All cozy there.

But the worst and craziest part was: you were still afraid of him.

Ok, the na'vi were a peaceful, highly intelligent (arguably much more smart, interesting and wiser than humans) alien race but he was still almost 10 feet tall and was so freaking intimidating. You shivered at the thought that he could ever hurt you, even by accident, one day.

Still, you were now here with him. Outside the laboratory. Because he put his goddamn eerie but cute (the guy is a complete paradox) looking ocean colored fingers through the tiny gap you left open in your bedroom window - a passage you left for air to come in when it was really hot and dry, like it was that night - and that made a strange noise, enough to put you in alert mode.

Damn, what a bad habit… Leaving the window open, even slightly, was not even permitted by the people who took care of the lab's security norms. That could be dangerous. But you had always been a stubborn little thing.

You were now regretting your decisions, though.

Neteyam approached your window being what he could be like a pro: a crazy stalker.

How you were still attracted to him… even though you were fearful of his na'vi build and strength… that was a question that maybe a mental health professional could answer. It was weird and problematic and you knew it. But you never imagined you would feel like this about Neteyam Suli. You really did not. When you first saw him, he seemed cute and handsome in your eyes, but he was still an alien. You had never considered being attracted to one. But now… nothing made sense anymore, things were getting weird.

Stupidity took over you when you were so sleepy and groggy and you saw it was his huge hand on the wooden window, so, you wanted to ask him why he ran away the last time you two spoke. You know when you're so sleepy, you make the most unimaginably silly mistakes? So… there you go. You dragged your heavy with slumber body out of your bed, grabbed your oxygen mask that was kept inside your closet and opened the window.

But why, though?

In the beginning, you two were having a trivial talk about mundane stuff, like how he learned the English language (his father, of course), he started to ask how and why you got an Avatar etc

He acted suspicious but still normal-ish, for a na'vi. They always looked mysterious when interacting with humans. But then, when he was telling you about his little sister, Tuktirey, and your eyes were slowly falling shut, your body begging for some hours of sleep… you felt a change in the atmosphere around you.

Your eyes had closed for a while, on their own, and suddenly, you knew Neteyam was really close to you, now. He had been keeping a respectful distance in the beginning. But now… now he was inches away from your body. He had moved closer, his fleshy but toned blue thigh almost rubbing against your leg, as you were sitting sideways on the window frame, your legs hanging in the air, making you feel a bit cold because of the nighttime Pandoran air.

You woke up from your 5 seconds long involuntary nap really startled.

"Hey! Why are you… so close?" You looked at him, dazed and nervous, visibly shaken

"Sorry… Is it too much? You're just… so pretty…" Neteyam says, looking at you like he's looking at a graceful, otherworldly being.

"Yeah. It is." You warn him "Can you… step away a bit, please?" You said, looking into his eyes. Your gaze serious but amiable.

Neteyam respected your request and did what was decent. But you did not expect that he would soon change his demeanor, just like something was taking over him.

You were so distracted with your chat with Neteyam but so utterly sleepy too that you did not notice when your nightgown's thin strap slipped through your right shoulder, leaving your breast exposed, your nipple out for Neteyam to see.

It was like a beast had replaced that nice-but-weird-vibes guy you were previously talking to.

Neteyam had just lifted you off of the window with amazing ease, your feet now touching the ground and he got closer to you again. He had you with your back against the lab's outer wall, keeping you there just by being in front of you, looking at you.

His size was enough to keep you still. You did not want him to maybe get mad at you if you tried to run away. That could become terrifying in a heartbeat. You were brave since a child, but you were also realistic. Your height and body strength was nothing compared to Neteyam's.

He looked at your exposed breast with such desire, you felt like his amber gaze was scorching your sensitive skin.

"Neteyam! What-?"

"You're so… perfect." His breath was labored while he stared down at your nipple, hardened by the cold temperature of the eclipse air "Sevin…" (pretty)

"I'm so afraid of you, Neteyam... You're too big and honestly...scary. I'm so sorry. I'm always trying to pick up signals that may indicate you're gonna hurt me. I don't feel comfortable at all right now. Please, let me go" You said as your cold, anxious hands took your nightgown strap back to where it belonged, covering your boob again, feeling ashamed of the vulnerable way you had just been seen by Neteyam, ashamed of the fact that he, a boy you barely knew, had just seen your naked breast, even if it was only for a brief period of time

"My cute little 'emyu…" (cook, cooker) "You don't need to be afraid of me." He smiles at you in such a sincere way, trying to show you he means no harm whatsoever.

Though Neteyam felt his heart tightening way too much inside his chest, hurting so much it was like you had crushed it when you said you're afraid of him, he was carefully trying to make you see he would never in a billion years harm you, his precious little yawne (loved one).

He wished so hard, even prayed to Eywa, in a millisecond, inside his mind, that you would soon realize he loved you so much he would kill anyone who ever hurt your precious, frail human body. He could not understand how you could think he himself would do such a horrible thing towards you.

When Neteyam saw you did not show any sign that you were beginning to trust him more, he said:

"Hì'i," (little, small in size) "please... I need you... I love your scent so much. I miss it everytime I'm away from you. I love the way your human skin smells. I do. I dream about you at night... " He gets closer to you slowly and carefully, caging you between the wall and his broad, crazily tall blue body, leaving no way for you to get away from him "C-can I touch you? Touch your skin?" Neteyam breathes, begging for you with his wide eyed gaze "Just for a little while, please..." He kneels down at the ground to be as close as he possibly can to your height "See? I'm not so tall anymore. Am I a little less scary now?" He smiles faintly, trying to cover his pain with a fake demonstration of joy.

Neteyam feels so insecure, without any guarantee that you will eventually let him in. But he will never give up on trying to be worthy of your love.

"You're always gonna be scary to me. Even when I'm in my Avatar, I think." Using a sharp na'vi knife to stab Neteyam's heart repeatedly would have hurt him less than that statement "I'm not as skilled as you are or experienced as you are when it comes to using a bow or anything like that. God, I can't even work a bow right. If you'd ever hurt me, even by accident I-"

"I can teach you." He interrupted "I will teach you everything I know about archery. I'm a great archer, you know? I like to call myself "Mighty Warrior". " He smiles, frowning a bit, trying to make a joke to make the situation a little lighter.

You seemed so afraid he was starting to not know what to do anymore to try to make you see you were safe with him. That he would defend you from any danger without any hesitation and not be the danger himself.

༊⁀➷

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446 notes · View notes

l-littlebird-l · 8 months

Note

Hello, little bird🥰✨ I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to thank you once again for the masterpiece “The Blind Dance”, that was breathtaking!❤️‍🔥

If you don’t mind, I’d love to share with you some of my thoughts, they might be veeery stupid, I’m sorry in advance, that’s just what happens in my feverish brain (Ominis’ been filling my mind completely for several months🙈)

So, personally I’m into powerful and let’s say dominant Ominis hehe. What do you think about it:

Ominis and MC are friends and of course both of them have hidden feelings for each other. One day, MC appears to have a bruise on her neck from some regular fight she had. Ominis can’t see it obviously, but hears some ambiguous remarks about her neck. He gets super jealous and storms to his beloved Undercroft/dormitory/any empty classroom to let off some steam, she notices his state and follows him. And when she asks wtf with you, he bursts out. Like... slams her up against the wall, holds her neck where the bruise is and smth like “who the hell was he?!” (maybe some assumptions that it was Sebastian, cause he knows they spend a lot of time together), basically revealing his dark intimidating side a bit. There can also be insults and some parseltongue spilling of course cause this boy can’t control himself hehe. She’s outraged, trying to push him away, but he realizes how stupid he was, apologizes passionately and then.. no less passionate and possessive sex with parseltongue as well🔥

Gooods I just needed to share it with you, and maybe you will find some ideas inspiring for your incredible talent! And it’s totally fine if you find it an utter rubbish, my brain’s just not working properly when it relates to Ominis😂

Thank you again, we’re all so happy to have you in this fandom!💕

Thank you so much for your patience with this piece! I loved writing it and I had a lot of fun playing around with Ominis’ emotions. 😉 Rest assured, your prompt for this piece was amazing. Thank you so much for being my first request, and I really appreciate all the kind words you give me. The Blind Dance is one of my favorites as well. Ominis just has this way about him. 💕 You definitely piqued some ideas for later stories. Thank you again, and enjoy!

• Jealousy Is a Terrible Thing •

Ominis Gaunt x MC (Smut)

— Requests are Open —

Summary: Ominis’ jealousy flares up when Sebastian returns to the common room well past midnight, carrying your scent. The accumulation of lies and excuses reaches its breaking point, leading to a heated confrontation between you two.

—

Ominis is a master at finding every possible opportunity he can to get closer to you. He's like a magnet, whether that means strategically choosing the seat next to yours in class, skillfully appearing in the same hallways as you, suggesting lunch dates at The Three Broomsticks, or inviting you to join him for study sessions in a cozy corner of the library.

For him, every minute spent by your side fills his day with an unparalleled sense of happiness. It's as if the entire world around him had shifted since you entered his life. He now has something, or rather someone, to look forward to greeting every single day.

But today, however, things took an unusual turn. Ominis had hardly slept, and his mood was decidedly foul. All night, his mind had raced, tormented by the question of why Sebastian had returned to the common room so late last night, bearing the unmistakable trace of your scent. He wrestled with this enigma throughout the night, and what compounded his distress was Sebastian's blatant falsehood. Sebastian was notorious for brushing things off and fabricating the flimsiest of excuses. But that scent, Ominis recognized it all too intimately—it was unquestionably yours. A fire churned within him, a spark of jealously aflame.

(Recap)

As the clocks hands inched past curfew, Sebastian clandestinely slipped into the common room, his movements shrouded in secrecy. His arrival, however, didn’t go unnoticed. Ominis lifted his head from his book as he drew a deep breath, catching a tantalizing trace of your scent emanating from Sebastian's clothing.

Without missing a beat, Ominis confronted Sebastian, his voice laced with an unmistakable sharp edge. "Sebastian, you're out past curfew. What were you up to?"

Sebastian, however, was quick on his feet. He met Ominis' gaze with a feign air of innocence. "Oh, nothing much, just a late-night stroll. Clearing my head, you know."

Ominis slammed his book shut and rose from his seat, his brows knit together with irritation. "Late-night stroll? Clearing your head?" he scoffed, his voice tinted with bitterness. "Don't insult my intelligence, Sebastian. I can smell her on you."

Sebastian tried to maintain an air of nonchalance, beads of sweat formed along his forehead. "You're imagining things, Ominis. Just a bit paranoid, aren't we?"

But Ominis was having none of it. He took several steps forward, his words biting through the air. "I know the scent of her perfume, Sebastian. Don't think you can play the fool with me."

Sebastian's mask of indifference began to crack as Ominis' possessiveness pressed in on him. "Fine," he spat back, the veneer of politeness shattering. "I was with her. So what? She can choose who she spends her time with."

Ominis' patience wore thin, and his anger flared as he leaned forward. "You're playing a dangerous game, Sebastian," he growled, his jealousy unleashing. "She's mine, and you'd do well to remember that."

Sebastian, seemingly unfazed, crossed his arms with a smirk, his voice edged with false nonchalance. "Why do you care so much, Ominis? What I do with her is none of your concern."

Ominis gritted his teeth, his temper burning from within. He wanted to shout, to demand answers, but his pride kept him restrained. “Just answer the question, Sebastian. What were you doing with her?”

Sebastian leaned forward, his tone a venomous whisper. "Maybe you're just not man enough to satisfy her."

Ominis clenched his jaw, his jealousy scraping the forefront, but he couldn't bring himself to reveal the true depth of his feelings.

Sebastian leaned back, a smug grin playing on his face. "You're so possessive, Ominis. It's pathetic. She's not yours to control."

Ominis, his anger boiling over, shot back, "You're just a playboy, Sebastian. You don't understand what it means to truly care about someone."

Their words hung in the air, charged with tension and unresolved emotions. The common rooms quiet atmosphere seemed to amplify, and neither of them was ready to back down.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, as he leaned in closer to Ominis, his voice dripping with venom. "And what would you know about caring for someone? You've never even seen her face, let alone know what it's like to be with someone like her."

Ominis couldn’t take it anymore. The frustration, the jealousy, the pain all swirled inside him like a tempest. He had been holding back, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but Sebastian’s taunts and insinuations were pushing him over the edge. A dark, sinuous whisper echoing within his head.

With furious colors, Ominis lunged at Sebastian, his control slipping away like sand through his fingers. He grabbed Sebastian’s collar, his fingers digging into the fabric as he shoved him forcefully against the wall. His face was contorted with rage as he leaned in closely.

Sebastian was caught off guard by Ominis’ sudden loss of control, despite being pinned against the wall and faced with Ominis' seething anger, he managed to taunt one last time. He grinned, though there was a nervous edge to it.

"Ominis, you're blind in more ways than one," he sneered, digging in with a final jab.

Ominis' grip on Sebastian's collar tightened, his knuckles turning white. He was on the verge of losing control completely, his anger and jealousy driving him to the brink of madness. The whisper inside, growing louder with each passing second.

As Sebastian's taunting words hit Ominis, they seemed to strike a deeper chord. Ominis' anger slowly faded, replaced by a wounded look in his eyes. He slowly released his grip on Sebastian's collar, taking a step back and facing away.

His voice, when he spoke, was filled with a poisonous blend of hurt and resignation. "Fine, Sebastian. Have it your way," he muttered, his anger now overshadowed by a sense of defeat and pain.

Sebastian held his gaze on Ominis’ back for a moment longer before breaking away, storming off to bed with Ominis' words echoing in his ears.

Left alone in the dimly lit common room, Ominis couldn't quell the burning jealousy that gripped his heart. His mind raced with turbulent thoughts, imagining what you and Sebastian were doing together. Each passing minute felt like an eternity as his possessiveness over you gnawed at him, making it impossible for him to find solace in sleep. The scent of another man, bearing traces of you, lingered in the air, a reminder that he couldn't shake off.

As the day dragged on, he found himself in the library, waiting for your arrival. The evening had been earmarked for a study session between the two of you. He positioned himself in a secluded corner of the library, setting the stage for a mental game amidst the book-lined corridors. Aware of the intricate nature of his little mind game, he knew that extracting answers required meticulous finesse. Every move, every word was a potential gambit on your friendship. His mind was a turbulent sea of unanswered questions, each wave threatening to consume his thoughts. The stakes were high, and the risks, even higher. But his determination burned in red. He needed answers, and if Sebastian wasn’t going to give them to him— then you will.

Even moments before your arrival, his mind raced with restless thoughts, the relentless curiosity within him clawing at his very core. A low grumble slipped from his lips, his fingers sinking into the pages of his book, an unsettling image flashing vividly within his thoughts.

"There you are," a familiar voice greeted him with enthusiasm, the sound of your steps weaving around the bookshelves as you plopped your stack of books on the table.

Ominis, drawn by the melody of your sweet voice, lifted his head, and his countenance transformed. His features softened, and a smile, one reserved solely for you, gently curved his lips. The crashing waves of his mind finding ease.

"So you decided to come after all," he teased, deliberately averting his gaze back to the book in his hand as his grip softens.

"Of course I'd show up, I'd never miss our study time together. It’s too precious," you playfully retorted, settling down next to him.

As you opened your books, the sound of the pages turning harmonized with the subtle waft of your scent, enveloping the space around him. That same, familiar scent, lingering in the air, stirring something within.

The library was unusually hushed, the subtle sound of his nails picking at the corners of parchment, bending them with a nervous energy. Your gaze instinctively followed the sound, an elegant dance of curiosity shifting between his fidgeting fingers and his pensive expression.

You sat there, quietly studying him for a few moments, pondering on what’s occupying his thoughts. Something about him seemed amiss, though you couldn't quite pinpoint it.

You leaned into him, your body brushing against his as your lips drew close to his ear, your voice a soft whisper. "You're not typically one to fidget with your hands. Is something on your mind, Ominis?"

Your closeness seemed to have a calculated impact, causing his demeanor to subtly shift. The sound of the parchment ceased as he turned his focus toward you, his face adorned with a serene mask of calmness. "Hmm? Oh, no. Nothings on my mind."

Your concern etched lines of worry onto your brow, still convinced that something weighed heavily on his mind, but he wasn’t budging.

"Ominis..." you hummed, your hand gently finding its place against his thigh, your voice carrying a soothing, reassuring tone. "You know you can talk to me."

In a fleeting moment, all his defenses crumbled. A lump formed in his throat, your sweet, captivating scent enveloping him like a warm embrace. The gentle brush of your hand against his thigh ignited an indescribable sensation deep within him. In that moment, he wished for time to stand still, for this instant to stretch into eternity. Just you and him, a world apart from everyone else—a world far from Sebastian. It all faded into obscurity. It was as if only the two of you existed in that space.

You couldn't help but notice how your presence seemed to have a calming effect on him. Your fingers traced a gentle, reassuring path up and down his thigh, and a soft, affectionate grin danced at the corners of your lips as you observed him intently. He looks so sweet…

In this sanctuary, Ominis felt a newfound comfort, an urge to confide in you, to lay bare everything that had tormented him, and perhaps even to express the emotions he'd kept concealed for so long. He yearned to spill it all out, to finally lay his heart on the table.

Just as he was about to speak, a subtle squeeze from your hand against his thigh brought him back to reality. His lashes faltered, and with a soft, deliberate hold, his hand grazed against yours, seemingly hesitant to speak.

His lips were parted, and for a brief moment, he seemed as if he was on the brink of saying something, but his lips drew a line. Instead, he took in a deep breath, casually flipping to the next page in his book with a flick of his wand.

"You needn’t worry about me, I'm fine," Ominis insisted, his words carefully neutral. "I just couldn’t find sleep."

You sighed, not entirely convinced by his statement, but willing to go with it. "How come?" You inquired gently, your fingers naturally gravitating toward the comforting warmth of his inner thigh.

His breath hitched for a mere second, the feeling of your hand tantalizingly close clouded his mind with your sweet, intoxicating presence.

"Sleep often seems to evade me more times than I care to count. So I opted for some light reading in the common room last night," he began, his voice steady. A momentary pause followed as he carefully considered his next words. He taps his nail against the parchment with an unsettledness. “Just as I was wrapping up on my reading, a rather… perplexing encounter held me.”

His eyes lined up with keen perception as he sensed your hand twitch in response to his words, a restrained, sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew he had you hooked.

"Oh? And… who might’ve that been?" Your words faltered, your heart beginning to race as the realization set in, that you had unwittingly walked into his cunning little trap.

"Sebastian," he stated firmly, the pretense of an unruffled countenance still in place as he smoothly turned to the next page in his book.

"S— Sebastian, huh?" You gradually withdrew your hand from his thigh, fingers curling around the contours of your book as you anxiously flipped through several pages.

"Any thoughts on why he might have been up after curfew?" He nonchalantly twirled his wand between his fingers, deliberately taking his time as he keenly detects your composure slowly unraveling beside him.

"No— not at all. Why would I have any insight?” You brought your hand to your lips, your teeth nibbling nervously at your nails as your thoughts begin to race.

"Really, now?" He leaned back, drawing in a deep breath as he meticulously assessed the situation. "I had thought you two were rather… close. Mayhaps I judged wrong," he mused, his finger idly tracing the edges of his book, waiting for your next answer.

You cleared your throat, collecting your hair in your hands as you lifted it up off your neck and sweeping it aside to cool off.

“We should get back to studying, Ominis.” You mumbled quietly, adverting your attention back to your books.

A pit formed within his midriff, an uneasy sensation coursing through him as he discerned that you had just lied to him and casually brushed aside his inquiry. Lost in his thoughts, something had sparked his attention, a faint, distant sound emanating several tables away. His ears perked as he found himself inexplicably drawn into the poison of hushed whispers and muted laughter.

"Did you see that mark on her neck?"

"Gods, what is it?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's a hickey!"

"Merlin's Beard... who do you think it was?"

"I bet you 5 Galleons it was Sebastian Sallow."

"What— no way."

"You think she's been snogging Sallow?"

"By the looks of it, she's been doing more than just snogging." The subdued group of students snickered amongst themselves.

"And…. guess what I saw last night… I saw the two of them leaving the castle after curfew."

"What, really..? That's foul... and she has the audacity to put her hands all over Gaunt— are you going to report it to the Headmaster?"

“Not yet, I’m waiting for the perfect moment.”

“You sneaky little minx.”

“She deserves it. I can’t wait to see her crumble.”

"She should be ashamed of herself...”

"Isn't one enough? Leave the rest of them for us."

“She’s such a slut.”

A flush of crimson spread across Ominis' face as his anger surged like a rising tide within. His fists clenched together in a white-knuckled grip, his imagination running wild with scenarios from last night, each one more maddening than the last. Thoughts became an impenetrable fog, clouding his usually sharp mind. His jaw clenched as he slammed his book shut, the resounding thud echoing throughout the library. He stormed out, leaving behind a wake of turbulent emotions.

Ominis could hear his heart ringing in his ears. The whole world around him fading into a distant blur as he pushed himself through the crowded halls. His nails dig into the handle of his wand as anger, frustration, and jealousy envelopes him whole. The thought of you doing something so vile with his best friend tinged his heart. He felt as if the air was sucked right out of his lungs, his own emotions strangling him.

You sat there, bewildered by his sudden outburst. Trying to make sense of what just happened, you close your books in a hurry, leaving them behind as you quickly followed suit. Your eyes glued to the back of his pristine button-up as you chased after him, deftly slipping through the turbulent sea of students and nearly stumbling over an outstretched foot.

"Om— Ominis, wait…" your voice caught as you hastily found your footing, resolutely following his swift path into an unassuming classroom, leaving behind a clear path of confused faces.

As you enter the classroom, your eyes swept across the empty space, finding no trace of Ominis. You take a hesitant step back, perplexed. Suddenly, the wooden doors behind you click shut. You quickly pivot around to find Ominis standing there, blocking the only exit out.

“Ominis…” you muttered, standing there frozen and confused as an uneasiness settled within your midriff.

His eyes almost gleamed with a shade of green, as if a dormant darkness within him had awakened. A pure-blood Gaunt, a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, the snake with no eyes, now revealed itself. His once-hidden frustrations surged to the surface, directed towards you. His body burned with resentment, hands trembling at his sides.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice low and tinged with a threatening edge, leaving no room for evasion or lies. "What were you doing with Sebastian last night?"

A sudden chill runs down your spine, as if he could actually see into your soul. You stagger back, your heart racing in response to his probing question.

"What do you mean..?" you stammered, desperately searching your mind for any little thing to grab at.

Your heart pounded in your chest, caught between the fear of angering him and the guilt of keeping the truth from him. You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of Ominis’ words pressing down on you, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it, not yet. The room seemed to close in and crackle with tension, clashing with your desire to protect the truth.

"I— I was…" your words faltered as Ominis took an intimidating step forward. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, struggling to find the right words. Your tongue felt heavy, surrendering yourself to complete silence.

Suddenly, he lunges forward, his fingers wrapping around your jaw, pivoting you around, and slamming you against the closed doors. His breath brushes against your lips as he leans in, his eyes effortlessly locked onto yours.

You winced, your eyes squeezing tight from the sudden force, his hold around your jaw softening as his fingers grazed down your neck.

"You were?" He asked, his voice baring a darkness you hadn’t seen before.

"I... I was just... studying," you muttered, attempting to maintain the facade, but the heat of his body pressed against yours and his possessive hold shattered your composure.

Your mind raced, torn between your desire to protect Sebastian and the overwhelming presence of Ominis. His demeanor was suffocating, hard to resist the urge to spill the truth, but you stubbornly clung to your feeble lie.

Every word you spoke, every lie you told, was like fuel to the fire. His fingers encircled around your throat, tightening with warning. "Tell me then, what's this?" he inquired, the pads of his fingers pressing into the tender, bruised skin below your jaw.

You yelped, your hand reaching for his wrist in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure. He took your hand in his, pinning it against the wooden doors. With a low, frustrated growl, he eased his grip from around your throat, his fingers still remaining over the mark.

“Speak,” he said, as if you were some pet of his to command.

You gasped, finally able to breathe, your head spinning. "Ominis, what's happened to you?" you whispered, your voice colored with confusion.

He grew tired of waiting for an answer. His mind filling in all the details on its own. He pushes your jaw to the side with his thumb as he leans into the crook of your neck, his breath scraping against your skin. His soft lips brushed across your bruise, that same dark whisper filling his head with poisoned words.

“You like this?” He growled, his lips barely transgressing against your skin.

Your voice caught in your throat as Ominis' grip tightened, preventing you from speaking.

"Have something to say, do you?" Ominis’ voice dripped with irritation at your feeble attempt to speak.

An agonizing silence enveloped the room as you nervously shook your head in response.

"I didn’t think so." He sinks his teeth into your bruise, eliciting a pained wince from your lips. The warm caress of his tongue against your skin, paired with his piercing teeth digging into your neck sent an indescribable sensation pooling between your thighs. His hand snaked from your throat and down your waistline, gripping into your hip. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as his knee stopped you from squeezing your thighs together.

He had you within his grasp, a pretty little thing trembling against the doors. In this moment, you were unequivocally his, a possession to be claimed. The air felt thick and heavy. He relished in the power he held over you, knowing he could do anything to you. It was crystal clear: You were his to mark, not Sebastian’s, his. And he intended to make that known.

"You like being a little slut for me?" He drags his lips agonizingly slow against your skin, catching your breath.

Despite the fear and the turbulent emotions, an undeniable surge of desire coursed through you. Ominis' dominance had awakened a primal longing within you, and your response was unmistakable. Your breath hitched, and your body caved into your desire, your hips arching slightly against his knee.

Ominis was acutely aware of your response. A sly smirk curled his lips as he felt the subtle shift in your body, the way you arched against his knee, the way your arm fell limp within his grasp, and the subtle wavering within your breath. It was evident of the power he held over you.

Ominis couldn’t help but taunt you further, his voice dripping with possessiveness and a hint of cruelty. “You feel that?” he whispered, pressing his knee against your damp knickers.

Overcome by lust, you found yourself writhing in place, unable to contain the fiery yearning that coursed through your veins. Your heart hammered within your chest, a relentless rhythm of anticipation and longing, each beat echoing the insatiable need for more. Every inch of your skin felt like it was burning, burning for his touch.

Ominis, consumed by his desire, pushed your thighs apart with a dominating force, making it clear who was in control. He pressed his hips into you, his hunger evident in the way he held you against the doors. There was no denying the raw and burning need he felt for you in that moment.

“You like being fucked so hard there’s bruises all over your pretty little skin?” He growled through gritted teeth, his grip around your wrist constricting. The anger in his voice sent tremors through your body, leaving you almost afraid to utter a word. A barely audible gasp escaped your trembling lips.

He couldn't fathom how you could lose your self-control so easily under such circumstances. His mind seethed with jealousy and anger. Were you always this easy to rile up? Is this what you and Sebastian do when he’s not around? Is that what you want from him? Unable to contain his rage any longer, he lashed out, slamming his hands against the wooden doors, staggering backwards.

"Is this what you want? Isn't Sebastian enough for you? You think you can go around putting your pretty little hands on guys and expect us to fuck you? You're— you’re such a..." He growled, his voice a mixture of anger and hurt.

Ominis leaned back against an empty desk, running his fingers over his jaw, a look of shame crossing his face. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he attempted to collect himself, but the damage was done. He knew he had lost control and shattered any chance of friendship that remained between the two of you. With a heavy sigh, he buried his face in his trembling hand, overwhelmed by the strangling feeling he has in his heart.

You were left speechless, your heart aching at his distress. With cautious steps, you moved towards him, your hand finding purchase against his shoulder as your thumb brushed with a soothing comfort.

"Ominis…" you whispered softly, your voice wavering with concern and immense sadness. "Please, just talk to me… What's going on with you? Why did you say such hurtful things?"

You settled down next to him, your hand gently gliding down his back. "This… this isn't like you, Ominis..." You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his waist, embracing him from behind.

The softness within your voice melted away all his defenses. Unable to contain his turmoil any longer, he began to unravel, pouring out the torment that had consumed him. His voice quivered. It sounded like he was on the brink crying. Your embrace around him tightened, unable to bear the sound of his shuddering voice.

"Please…" your voice trembled as you pleaded in him, the agonizing prick of tears welling within your eyes.

Ominis drew in a deep breath, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. Slowly, he lifted his head from his hand, his gaze, blankly fixed upon the floor.

"It was him, wasn't it?" His voice held a note of anguish, as if he didn’t want the truth at all.

"What was him?" You asked gently, lifting your head from his shoulder and resting your chin against its curve.

He took a few moments, taking in deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to come to terms with it himself. “That bruise along your neck… It was Sebastian.”

"What?" You furrowed your eyebrows, your fingers instinctively brushing across the mark that adorned itself just below your jaw. "This?" Confusion filled your voice as your mind raced with questions. “No— Sebastian never hurt me, why would you think that?”

He leans forward, elbows resting against his knees, his hands clenching in visible disarray. "Not hurt you…" he uttered with an evident struggle in his voice. His head turns toward you as you break from the one-sided embrace. Your eyes traced along his pained face, tears glossing over. You tenderly cupped his cheek, urging him to face you.

“Ominis…” you murmured softly. “What then?”

He slowly picked his arm up, his fingers gliding over your caress with gentleness, nuzzling his cheek into your hand. This warmth was what he so desperately needed. His gaze lowered with somberness, his other hand reaching out to hold yours within your lap.

He shifted towards you, his hand falling from his cheek, finding purchase against your thigh. He appeared hesitant, at a loss for words— his mind wrangling with itself to even speak.

"That mark," he started, his head still lowered. "It was from making love, wasn't it?"

You sat there, blinking for a moment, caught off guard by his accusation. Speechless, you almost let out a baffled laugh but quickly restrained it. "Making love?" you retorted, your hand lowering from his cheek as you wrapped your fingers around his nape, drawing him in closer.

You pressed your forehead against his, gazing into his soft ocean eyes. "Listen to me, Ominis… There’s nothing going on between me and Sebastian,” you hushed, your voice filled with sincerity.

He pulls away with furrowed brows, disbelief etched across his face. You clasped your hands around his, pulling him back in. "Ominis, please… This bruise here, it was from an encounter with goblins. Sebastian and I… we snuck out of the castle last night. We wanted to have a little fun, go for a midnight adventure,” you paused briefly, a heavy sigh filling the air. “But I… I got into a little trouble. I messed up my footing and a goblin attacked me. I was exhausted. Sebastian had to carry me back to the castle… I’m so sorry, Ominis. I should’ve been honest with you… I had no idea how much this pained you."

He felt ashamed, he felt hopeless, and he felt so, so indescribably ignorant. The weight of his emotions hung heavy within the air.

“I promise you, there’s no other man out there that has my heart,” you continued softly, your words piquing his interest. Ominis slowly lifted his chin as his gaze fell upon you.

Your lips curled into a sweet smile, brushing your thumb in soothing circles over his hands. “No one else, but you.”

His lashes faltered, and that very pit within his stomach had completely vanished. He felt all the heaviness within him lifted, the venomous whispers within his head— gone, replaced by a sense of clarity and peace."No one else?" He asked softly, his voice broken.

“Ominis, I love you… I love you so much that it pains me. It pains me to see you like this. I fell in love with that very sweetness you hold so deep within your heart. You’re someone special to me…” you wavered, the weight of your confession hanging in the air, your heart pounding within your chest as the gravity of your words settled between you both like a weightless plume.

He gently withdraws his hand from your grasp, his fingers tenderly tracing along your jaw as he clasped his hand just below your ear. His soft touch sent a shiver down your spine as he tilts your head back, his thumb brushing against your cheek, pressing his longing lips against yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut, savoring the sweet taste of his affection, your lips molding together in a tender, passionate kiss. In that moment, the world around you faded into insignificance. Everything that had just transpired, gone. All that remains now is the unyielding confession of love. The kiss lingered until he finally pulled away, his lips hovering just an inch from yours.

His warm breath caressed your lower lip as he spoke in an unwavering, gentle, and remorseful tone. "I've loved you from the moment I met you, more deeply than I could ever express. I've tried to hide it, to bury it, but it's always been there… burning within me. You mean more to me than words can convey, and I can't imagine my life without you."

Ominis’ voice quivered with emotion, "I love you with everything I am, and I always will, no matter what. I love you, all that you are, my dear little bird. I’m so… so so—"

You cut him off before he sank back into his darkness, your lips locking together in a fervent embrace. His brows furrowed as his lips followed suit, firmly. The kiss deepened, a passionate, unending surge of emotion that left you both breathless. In that moment, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place, and your hearts were bound together as one.

You wanted to reassure him, to make him understand that he had nothing to worry about. Your heart belonged to him and him alone. You hooked your leg over Ominis’ hip, gently lowering yourself into his lap. He wrapped his hand around your waist with a tender embrace.

With a shared urgency, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth, eliciting soft sigh past his lips. In the midst of your heated kisses, soft whispers of, “I love you,” flowed freely between you both. It was as if those three words had become a cherished refrain, a reminder of your unwavering love for each other, and neither of you could get enough of it.

Your kisses became a sweet storm. Peppering his lips as your hands cradled his jaw, your hips moving in a rhythm of their own, swaying with the desire that coursed through your veins.

A burning sensation snapped you back to reality, a tantalizing stiffness pressing against your knickers, awakening you from the flames. You were acutely aware of the desire that had burned between you.

Unable to resist, you both tumbled against the desk, your lips still locked in a fiery embrace. The kisses turned heated, sloppy, and wet as you explored eachothers cavity with unbridled hunger. His grip around your hip tightened, pressing you firmly against his arousal, a quiet moan of pleasure escaped your lips. Desire pooled between your thighs, wetting his trousers from the friction.

With a final, lingering kiss, you gradually poised yourself up, straddling him with your hands pressed against his chest. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, but something about his presence made you feel safe and unashamed. The embarrassment you anticipated seemed to melt away in his soft, gentle touch.

A sweet, contented smile graced your lips as you began to roll your hips, a gentle grind that pressed your soaked knickers against his clothed arousal, eliciting a soft, quiet hum from Ominis’ lips.

He tilted his head back with a warm moan, the sharp contour of his jaw capturing your attention. You reached for his hands, delicately intertwining your fingers with his, guiding his touch as you circled your hips. A quiet sigh of pleasure escaped your lips, filling the thick air around you.

Ominis’ lips parted, eliciting an unrestrained moan as his cock twitches beneath you. He lost full control over his hips, incapable to stop them from moving in rhythm with yours. This was everything he had ever yearned for— your sweet hands in his, the soft, quiet moans that slipped past your lips, the constant whispers of affirmation. Yet, amidst this symphony of pleasure, there was one thing he longed to hear… the sweet sound of you moaning his name.

Feeling your hands withdraw from their loving embrace and hearing the subtle rustling of fabric above him, Ominis reached out, gently clasping your hands in his once again.

"Allow me," he whispered in a tender tone, his desire to adore you evident in his gentle pale eyes.

Your hands slowly dropped as he began to unbutton your blouse with a tantalizing slowness, savoring every moment so he could etch this memory into eternity. His fingers brushed across your shoulders, unable to resist the urge to whisper with admiration, "So soft..." He slid your blouse over your shoulders, allowing it to pool around your elbows. Your fingers curled under the rim of his trousers, eagerly reciprocating the desire.

Ominis, however, wasn't met with the expected sensation of a bra strap along your shoulders. Instead, he found himself intrigued, his fingers tracing down your collarbone until they reached the supple, sensitive flesh at the curve of your breast. His feather-light touch sent a cascade of goosebumps dancing across your skin, eliciting a subtle sigh of approval from your parted lips. His large hands then enveloped your breast, gently squeezing and kneading without hesitation.

Your eyes locked onto his almost devious grin. You unhooked your fingers from under his trousers and smoothly shimmied the rest of your blouse off, your gaze then moving toward his buttoned shirt, relinquishing it’s hold. You pushed open the flaps of his shirt, your eyes feasting on the sight of his well-formed figure. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your fingers trailed down his chest, tracing the dots that adorned his pale flesh in a playful zigzag pattern until they reached his hip. He was truly a vision of beauty, and in this moment, you couldn't fathom how he could doubt your desire for him over anyone else, even Sebastian.

"Ominis… I want you," you whispered, the words dripping with desire.

"Then take me," he dared, his expression sweet and inviting, in stark contrast to everything below.

Your cheeks blazed with a deep, rosy hue as you bit into your cheek, his words leaving you breathless with desire. With a sultry grace, you lifted yourself onto your knees, your hands working deftly to tug down his trousers and briefs just enough to reveal his hard, throbbing cock. It was much larger than you had imagined when you were grinding against him, and the sight left you speechless. Even his length was adorned with a scattering of freckles.

His hands, warm and tender, snaked up your thighs, just under your skirt, cradling them with a gentle hold. He showed incredible patience, letting you take your time and go at your own pace. You reached below you, your fingers curling around the soaked fabric that clung to your heated flesh. Pulling them aside, you wrapped your fingers around his base, slowly lowering yourself onto him.

The pink crown of his arousal glistened with pre-cum, slipping between your slick folds as you guided him into your eager core. His length squeezed into you inch by inch, eliciting a joined shudder. Ominis tightened his grip around your thighs as he felt your cunt slowly enveloping his length, drawing him deeper inside you. A hushed wince escaped your lips as he pushed you firmly against his hips.

A low, guttural curse slipped from Ominis’ tongue, the agonizing sensation of your tight cunt gripping around his cock with raw hunger.

With slow, deliberate movements, you took control, lifting your hips and sensually lowering yourself onto him, savoring every inch of his throbbing desire as it filled you completely. Finding a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your bodies. Ominis' hands ventured further under your skirt, his fingers clasping possessively around your hips, pressing deeply into your skin as you surrendered yourself to the veil of desire.

The sensation of his pulsating cock reaching deep within you, hitting the depths of your cunt and clenching around his cock in a strangling hold. It was everything he had ever fantasized about. The tantalizing stride and rolls of your hips, the softness and warmth of your skin touching his. The labored breaths and sweet moans he elicited out of you, it felt so fucking good.

The way you rolled your hips and took his cock like it was meant for you. How your body trembled every time he hit that sensitive spot. The desperate moans escaping your lips as he started to force your movements quicker by your hips. It drove him mad, mad for you. He craved more, wanting to hear those pretty little lips of yours gasp and scream his name, and he knew exactly how to make that happen.

With a firm grip around your hips, he easily maneuvered, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself over you. With one hand supporting his weight, his other guided the underside of your thigh until it was pressed against your side.

"Ominis, wai—"

He silenced your protests with a deep, penetrating thrust that sent a loud moan spilling from your lips. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your thigh as a sly grin curled at the corners of his lips. Your slick cunt tightened around his cock as he continued with long, measured strides in and out of your slick heat, drawing a soft yelp from the depths of your throat. Your hand clutched around his forearm, anchoring yourself as he quickened his pace.

"Ah, fuck..." you winced, furrowing your brows in pleasure as he drove into you relentlessly.

A deep, guttural groan reverberated within his throat as he reveled in the tightness of your cunt. He shifted his hand from your thigh to support his weight against the desk, looming over you with a demeanor that made you feel small and trapped beneath his towering figure.

He may be blind, but Ominis was attuned to your every desire, intimately aware of what turned you on. A sly grin danced along his lips as he continued his relentless thrusts, each one hitting that sweet spot that drove you mad.

He swooped down, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his labored breaths crashed against your skin. The sweet sound of your whimpers riled something familiar within him. "You like that?" he growled against your neck.

You gasped, your nails digging into his forearm as your body shuddered from his words. A subtle sneer lathered your tender neck with hungry kisses and soft bites.

His lips trailed sensuously along your neck, planting soft, teasing kisses against your earlobe. “I know you like this,” he grunted, his hips driving into you with hard, measured thrusts that left you gasping with desperate approval. The needy whines that escaped your lips were all the affirmation he needed. His tongue traced the contours of your ear, soft nips and low growls that sent shivers down your spine.

"Oh fuck, Ominis..." you pleaded, gasping for air as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“You’re so tight…” he snarled, his voice thick with desire, peppering your ear and neck with a trail of hungry kisses and licks. His pace slowed into long, tantalizing strides, all the while bearing knowing smile.

"Ominis, please..." you whimpered softly, your nails digging further into his skin.

"Please, what?" His voice shuddered, sinking his teeth into your neck as he maintained his steady pace.

"Oh, fuck… please—"

He hummed against your skin, seemingly oblivious to your intent, relishing in the sweet desperation of your trembling voice.

"Please… fuck me harder," you exasperated, writhing beneath him.

He gripped your hip in place, preventing your movements as he continued with his slow, ruthless strides.

"What’s my name," he demanded, his voice a heated whisper against your ear.

You panted heavily, your thighs trembling at his hips, your voice a sultry plea, “Fuck me harder, Ominis…” Before you could finish the rest of his name, he slammed his hips into you with a hungry growl against your ear. You bucked your hips with an arch of your back, eliciting a yelp that echoed within the halls of the castle.

“Good girl,” he whispered, sending an intoxicating blaze of fire coursing through your body. With every forceful thrust, a torrent of pleasure surged within you, an unrelenting tempest that threatened to consume your very being. A knot of insatiable desire coiled deep within your midriff, pulling tighter with each invasion of his hips.

Sweat glistened across your entwined bodies, his movements a fevered dance of untamed lust and longing. Your nails etched fiery trails along Ominis’ back, branding him with your passion. The pain that etched along his back soon became pleasure as he lost full control of himself. The classroom echoed with a crescendo of fervent gasps and uninhibited moans.

As he surrendered to his primal desires, his voice became a sultry serenade, a soft trail of parseltongue with unbridled lust slipping from his lips like a seductive spell. He teetered on the precipice of release, the moment of climax drawing tantalizingly near with each scorching thrust.

His head hangs low, driven by an insatiable need as he plunges deep into you, his hips etching a delicious soreness into your supple flesh. Your thighs trembled against his hips, helpless to resist the throbbing sensation as he fills your needy little cunt to the brim, spewing threads of his warm, sticky desire that claimed you as his.

Exasperated curses punctuated the air, escaping your lips as your body contracts beneath his rigid thrusts. Your back arches with a deep curve, your hips locked in a drunken lust as he fills you to the rim. Ominis hovers above you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, his thoughts lost in the intoxicating haze of euphoria.

A heated warmth seeps from your defiled cunt, dribbling sensuously against the smooth wooden desk beneath you. Ominis, with a heavy and contented sigh, begins to slowly withdraw, his cock sliding out with a wet, suctioning noise that lingers in the air.

You gaze at him through half-lidded lashes, your face carrying the unmistakable weight of exhaustion, each breath labored with fire. Ominis' well-satisfied cock twitches, strings of cum dripping from his tip.

With an almost inconceivable smirk, Ominis runs his fingers through his tousled hair, his freckled cheeks flushed from exertion. “You’re mine, you know that?” He said softly, delicate beads of sweat tracing along the contours of his midriff, a captivating sight only for you to see.

You nodded obediently, with a soft, weary sigh, “I’m yours.”

He left you utterly spent, your body feeling heavy against the wooden desk. Your legs remained parted, trembling from the aftermath, as you struggled to catch your breath, your mind remained shrouded in a tantalizing fog of lingering lust.

“Ominis…” your voice wavered, still carrying the heat of the fervent moment.

A mischievous chuckle escaped his lips as he gazed at you with desire-fueled hunger. “Round two?” His suggestion hung in the air, a tempting invitation to plunge back into the depths of pleasure once more.

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concreteparasite · 4 months

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How does ray feel about adoption? And what type of gifts would he like? Also when you said that his children would have mixed feelings about him why is that? (Thank you so much if you answer my question! I loved the game so much!!<33)

Ray is totally fine with adoption! As long as it's his kid it doesn't matter to him if it's his flesh and blood.

Ray is fine with anything MC buys while thinking of him... but he would really appreciate a nice sweater, nice slippers, a quality/durable leather wallet... mainly things that are practical, that can last a long time , and of high quality is his preference. Luxury/designer items he can buy himself and he doesn't view that highly, but items that are practical require the gifter to think of him and consider what he may find useful in his everyday life. 😊 Ray really appreciates consideration.

I think his children would look up to him when young, but as they get older (late middleschool / teenager) may feel a bit disappointed or maybe even upset in Ray not being the 'shiny' Binary Star Hero that everyone loves but instead being a tired and dreary dad who is somewhat strict with them. That is just my headcannon tho :3 I prefer to leave those kinds of things up to the player to imagine and decide for themselves and their MC's own journey with Ray 💕

Thank you for playing Binary Star Hero 🥰 I'm very honored that you liked it so much! Thanks for the fun questions as well!

#binary star hero #bshvn #binary star hero vn #binarystarhero #bsh #binarystarherovn #yanderevn #visual novel #yandere #datingsim

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fuxuannie · 1 year

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Hii! Do you mind doing headcanons of jing yuan, blade and yanqing (platonically please maybe older sister/mother figure) with a sweet and optimistic s/o like they're not overbearing just affectionate and a ball of sunshine and positivity, making treats for everyone and want to make everyone feel comfortable and included(kinda like a mix of nilou and amber my favorite precious girls I love them so much 😭💕🤍) thank you so so much in advance and I hope you have a wonderful day 🥰💌

* pairing(s) : blade + jing yuan x fem reader

* prompt : request

* authors note : i wanted to do this really quickly, and its kind of (very,,) off track of the original request but kind of wanted to try something new! (part 2 will be written if asked by requester ♡)

MODERN AU.

In your workplace, it wasn't uncommon for different ceos from several other companies to come visit your boss. Jing Yuan, one of the most famous ceo's, was a name you'd want to have sign a contract of yours. You were his assistant, but only ever to run simple errands while he was busy with his schedule. Not only that, but you were also Yanqing's older sister. Yanqing worked in the same office, but with a much higher position. (In which you were proud of him, but also veeery confused.)

When he told you about a meeting in which another CEO would be visiting the building, a small lightbulb popped in your head and you thanked your brother, a small kiss on his forehead as you went to Jing Yuan directly for this idea. "I hope you do not mind, sir. But I'll be happy to make a few treats for the guest tomorrow, however, I'd have to start early and leave at this moments notice.. I know that-"

"I'll be happy to let you."

Your eyes widen slightly, which he notices and chuckles. "Your idea is very cute, I'll be happy to entertain it and I'm sure our guests will greatly appreciate it." You feel a warm sensation on your cheeks, but bow to your boss and thank him for his time before walking out while covering your face in small embarassment.

He leans his head on his hand, smiling a little at your fluster. "Cute."

On the day of the visit, you weren't exactly informed of who it was. But just knew that the three visiting Jing Yuan's office were a big deal. You stood on his right, and Yanqing on his left, a tray of sweets on the table right infront of you as you waited quietly.

The first person who walked in was a woman who clearly walked with confidence and pride, her hair tied up in a neat bun as a much shorter silver haired girl followed after her. She was playing games on what seemed to be a nintendo switch as she immediately took a seat and focused on her game.

Lastly was a man, his presence slightly intimidated you as you immediately recognized him. His wealth was insane, being one of the richest people within your country, and so that alone made his aura unintentionally (or intentionally) intimidating.

You looked down, but don't notice how that action alone caught his attention. It makes him pause, which Jing Yuan immediately noticed. He clears his throat loudly, which makes Blade snap out of his trance and look at him. "Greetings, Jing Yuan." He greets, bowing slightly with a hand to his chest.

Your boss nods in acknowledgement, standing up as you and Yanqing both straighten yourselves and greet with him. "Welcome." He turns his head to you, then the biscuits you made last night and smiles.

"My assistant made you all snacks to enjoy during our meeting, please, help yourself." You swiftly pick up the tray and walk to the woman now recognizable as Kafka once she took off her glasses. "Thank you, dearest." Next was Silverwolf due to the iconic jacket she wore a little loosely on her shoulders, she grabs one that was slipping off the plate with her mouth without taking her eyes off her game. (A small muffle of approval from her end.)

Lastly was Blade, who smiled at you when you approached. You thought it would be the iconic smirk, the one with 500 edits of and plastered everywhere on billboards and magazines but something about it felt genuine. He took a cookie and thanked you for your kindness, and as you returned to Jing Yuan's side, that smile of his was engraved into your mind.

But seems like you're on a clueless streak, as Jing Yuan and Blade have a glaring contest from across the table after that small interaction. Blade was well aware of how fond your boss secretly was of you, how he knew is beyond him, but it was certainly pissing him off with the unnoticable advances Blade was making.

"(name), would you mind fetching our guests a glass of water? I'm sure they'll need it, as there's plenty more to have." He smiles when you nod and leave the room, as obedient as always.

"I believe our intention was to keep this purely business, old friend." Blade smirked, crossing his arms as Jing Yuan interlocks his fingers, keeps them near his lips and rests his arms on his desk.

"It was my intention, then you looked at my assistant."

#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade hsr x reader #jing yuan hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader

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jobean12-blog · 1 year

Text

Simply Irresistible

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker AU)

Word Count: 2,446

Summary: Joel takes you on the best first day you’ve ever been on

Author’s Note: More Biker!Joel because I love him so! This is connected to my first Biker!Joel story The Road to Love but they can be read separately. Thank you so much for the love this AU is getting, I’m really enjoying it! Thank you all so much for reading and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: lots of soft and sweet fluff, flirting, tension, f-ing-er-ing, little th-ig-h ri-d-ing, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself

The edit below is NOT MINE: my amazing friend Ellie @mrsmischief209 made it for me at the drop of a hat and I LOVE IT SO MUCH! Thank you forever my sweet! 💕

Joel Miller Masterlist

“He texted you again, didn’t he?” Jade asks as she peeks over your shoulder.

“Of course it’s him,” Dan adds. “Look at that smile.”

You finish replying to Joel and then stuff your phone in the back pocket of your jeans.

“You two are insufferable!”

Your tone is playful and you’re still grinning.

“You LOVE us,” Dan chimes.

“You do,” Jade agrees. “Now tell us what he said.”

“I do love you both,” you assure them. “And he was just asking what I was wearing for our date…”

“REALLY?!” Dan screeches. “WHY?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask,” you reply. “I just told him I was planning to wear a dress.”

“You didn’t ask why!?!” Dan nearly shouts.

“Maybe he wanted to make sure you’re dressed properly for the restaurant…maybe it’s a fancy and romantic place!” Jade says with a wistful sigh.

You look between your two friends and roll your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sure I’ll find out!” you say as you wiggle past them to help a customer.

“I can hardly wait until Saturday,” Dan whispers to Jade as he follows after you. “I bet they don’t even make it to dinner.”

Jade and Dan share a mischievous giggle and you shoot them a glare, smirking when you see Dan waggling his eyebrows at you.

~Saturday night~

“Text me and Dan if you need anything,” Jade speaks into the phone.

Dan grabs it from her hand.

“YES! Text us everything,” Dan says enthusiastically. “All the juicy details…I want to know every last one!”

You hear some scuffling and hear Jade mutter a curse at Dan before she’s back and says, “sorry babes, Dan is very excited.”

“I am too,” you smile as you stand in front of your mirror and check yourself one last time.

Just then you hear the rumble of an engine and your stomach fills with butterflies.

“He’s here!” you whisper shout into the phone. “Gotta go!”

“HAVE FUN!” both Dan and Jade shout simultaneously.

With a laugh you hang up and head for your front door.

The doorbell rings and you let out the breath you’ve been holding in before opening the door.

Joel’s leaning against the frame, relaxed in his signature dark jeans that fit just right and a vest that shows off his sculpted arms and tattoos.

Your gaze lingers on his handsome face before you take in the rest of him, you fingers twinkling hello with a small wave.

“Hey sunshine,” he murmurs as his eyes sweep over your body appreciatively.

Even though he does nothing to hide the fact that he’s checking you out it doesn’t come off as creepy, it only makes you feel desired and beautiful.

“You look…” and he runs a hand through his hair, tousling it so his curls are more pronounced, “amazin’.”

“Thanks,” you answer sweetly as you take a step closer.

He lifts his hand and holds up a small bouquet of wildflowers.

“These are for you,” he says quietly.

“Oh Joel! They’re beautiful!” you exclaim, taking them and holding them up to your nose. “I love them! Thank you.”

He looks pleased and gives you a sideways smile. You place your palm on his chest and lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering on his skin before you pull away, your eyelashes still fluttering against your cheek.

When you meet his eyes they wander over your features before settling on your lips.

“You’re welcome sunshine.”

“I just want to put them in water before we go. Come in for a minute.”

You leave the door open and rush off to the kitchen, grabbing a small vase and filling it with water. Joel remains by the door and openly inspects what he can see of your house.

“I like it,” he says when you’re finished and walking back to him. “It’s warm and soft and inviting…fits you.”

“Thanks. It’s home.”

You meet him by the door but he doesn’t move out of the way.

You nibble your bottom lip and look at him through your lashes.

“Ready?” you ask.

He lifts his hand to your mouth and presses the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip, gently pulling it free from your teeth. Then he takes your chin between his fingers and tugs your mouth to his.

Your hands instinctively curl into his vest and you press yourself against him. His fingers graze your jaw before ghosting down your neck and curling around the back of it to bring you impossibly closer, his lips finding yours again quickly.

“Mm,” he hums against your lips, kissing you several more times before announcing, “now I’m ready. Just had to give you a proper hello darlin’.”

You nod, unable to speak and still clinging to him.

His hand slides lower and wraps around your waist, tucking you into his side as he leads you out the door.

“Where’s your bike?” you ask without thinking.

“Disappointed sunshine?” he asks with a knowing smirk.

Your eyes widen ever so slightly and you give him a sheepish look.

“No! Not at all. I just figured…”

His fingers press under your chin and he lifts your eyes, ghosting his lips across yours as he whispers, “don’t worry, I promised I’d take you for a ride any time you want and I meant it. I just can’t have you riding around on my bike in that dress darlin’. It’s not the safest.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Is that why you asked me what I was going to wear?”

He nods with a wink and brings you around to the passenger side door of his pickup then opens it for you.

“I would have changed,” you tell him with a smile.

His intense gaze travels from your head to your toes and when he reaches your eyes again they blaze with heat.

“No,” is all he says before he takes your hand and helps you up.

Once you’re seated he leans forward and grabs the seatbelt, laying it across your body then buckling it. The action is thoughtful and sweet but every time his hands brush along your skin it fills you with anticipation, the need to have him touch you overwhelming.

As if he senses it too, his fingers close around your hand and he lifts it to his lips for a soft kiss, his eyes never leaving yours until he reluctantly releases you and shuts the door.

When he gets in the driver’s side you ask, “where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he says as he shifts the truck into drive.

He sets one hand loosely on the steering wheel and lets his other inch across the middle console until it’s resting on your thigh, his fingers slightly hidden under the hem of your dress.

His calloused thumb draws small circles on your soft skin and you love how rough it feels in comparison. You place your hand over his and trace his long fingers, gently stroking them with your fingertips. He shifts in the seat and glances at you while he squeezes your leg, the air thick with tension.

Thankfully it doesn’t take long to get to your destination and when Joel turns down a small dirt road you turn to him with a look of confusion.

“There’s no restaurant here,” you say.

“No, there isn’t,” he answers. “Hope that’s ok.”

He parks and hops out of his truck then comes around to open your door and before you can ask any more questions he grabs you around the waist and helps you down, your body sliding along his until your feet hit the ground.

You stay pressed against him, your hands curled around his biceps. When he doesn’t release you, you dance your fingers higher, grazing his shoulder before they dip to the buttons of his vest and press to his warm skin.

“Are you hiding any tattoos under here?” you ask with your eyes still on his chest.

Your fingers toy with the first button and you pop it open, hearing his breath catch in his throat.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, tightening his grip on you.

“I want to see,” you whisper, lifting your eyes.

His eyes close briefly and you can see his teeth grind together before he shifts your bodies so he can press you into the side of his truck, the need to feel every inch of you overpowering every other thought.

You continue your exploration and push the fabric apart, slowly dragging your finger downward and parting it more, just enough to see the top of another piece of ink. You look up and into his eyes as your fingers undo one more button of his vest, exposing more of his tan skin until you can see the whole tattoo.

Your eyes drop and you trace your fingertips over the dark ink.

“Beautiful,” you breathe out.

He captures your hand in his, pressing it to his lips before he rests it on his shoulder and with his mouth just a whispered breath from yours his hands caress your body, his frustration evident when the material of your dress keeps him from your bare skin.

“You drive me crazy sunshine. From the moment I saw you…”

“Joel,” you plea.

His nose brushes yours before trailing down your neck, his lips following with soft kisses.

“I had a picnic planned…food, drinks…dessert. Even thought we’d watch the sunset,” he murmurs into your skin.

“Had?” you gasp, your fingers digging into his back as he nips at the skin above your pulse point.

“You expect me to sit through a picnic now?” he teases as his lips move over your collarbone.

“But it sounds so romantic,” you say, your voice breathy as you tilt your head back to give him better access to your neck.

“I thought so,” he smirks as he brings his lips back to yours. “I’ve got everything ready, just say the words.”

“Thought you couldn’t make it through a picnic…” you counter with some playful sass.

“I’d try just for you but I can’t promise anything.”

His fingers slip under the hem of your dress, languidly sliding along your skin until they reach your inner thigh. Every motion is deliberate and when he moves his hand to your hip and teases the waistband of your panties you groan out his name.

“Problem sweetheart?” he asks, his eyes full of mischief.

Your fingers work through his thick dark hair, and move down his back, exploring and touching all the hard planes of muscle.

You want more. Need it. And you can feel him throb against your stomach as his bearded cheek grazes your delicate skin and he captures your lips in a kiss that steals any remaining air from your lungs.

His hand slides down to your ass and he gives it a firm squeeze, pulling your hips harder against his. With a slight nudge he pushes his knee between your legs and presses his thigh upward, making you whimper into his mouth.

The hard muscle flexes and you can’t stop the way you grind yourself over him.

“Fuck darlin’,” he hisses when he pulls away, his breathing heavy.

Your lips part when he grabs your waist and rocks you over his thigh, your moans of pleasure the only sounds he wants to hear.

He removes his knee and replaces it with his hand, pushing your panties to the side and easily sliding his thick fingers through your arousal.

“Oh fuck sunshine,” he moans against your lips, “this all for me?”

Your hands claw at his back, trying to bring him closer and he answers your silent plea, slowly pushing a finger inside you.

He grunts as your tightness surrounds him and the urge to see your face takes over as he pulls back from your lips to watch you.

He holds your gaze as he takes his time, gentle, slow, deliberate pumps of his hand as he builds a torturous rhythm.

“More,” you demand, dragging your hands down his chest before your fingers grab hold of his biceps.

He flexes under your touch and you can see the chords of muscle strain with his every movement.

“Joel, more.”

He growls and with his free hand, takes a hold of your wrists, pinning your arms above your head and against the truck.

You clench around him and weakly push against his grip. With a satisfied grin he keeps his eyes on yours as he pushes a second finger inside you.

His movements remain slow and torturous and it drives you wild with impatience. You buck your hips onto his hand, trying to take him deeper but he keeps you pinned in place and draws out your pleasure.

“Joel,” you beg, your desperation swallowed by his lazy but sexy kiss that makes you roll your hips all over again.

He keeps you on the edge until you you’re trembling in his arms, strung so taut but not alone. His expression is filled with need, his muscles straining with the last remains of his barely contained control.

“Please,” you whisper, on the verge of falling apart. “Please, Joel.”

Whatever impressive control he’s mastering snaps and he starts to move his fingers faster, pushing deeper. He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles until you shatter against him, your release spasming through you until you can hardly hold yourself upright.

“I got you darlin’,” he murmurs and you feel his lips press softly to your shoulder as he draws his fingers away.

Your eyes meet his and his expression is soft with satisfaction.

“I’d apologize for not being able to keep my hands to myself,” he starts, lifting his hand between your bodies, his fingers gleaming, and licking them clean one by one, “but I’m addicted.”

“Joel…” you whisper, still breathless.

He slants his mouth over yours in a grazing, taunting kiss and you bite his lower lip before he deepens it so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

When he tears his mouth away it’s only for lack of air and you can see him start to open it as if he’s going apologize again but you press a finger to his lips.

“This is by far the best first date I’ve ever had,” you whisper as you trace his jaw. “And we still have time to watch the sunset.”

“We can do whatever you want sunshine.”

Your lips curl into a coy smile and you press yourself closer, bending your head to his and kissing him.

Hard and hungry.

His large hand curls around the back of your neck and he keeps you close, taking over and kissing you back just the same.

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