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ahundredtimesover · 7 months

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I Want You to Stay (06) | 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; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.6k

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: We're slowly heading somewhere! Still slow but it's something hehe thank you again for appreciating this piece! 🥰 Also... JK in that Vogue outfit with a corsage. YEP.

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

The silence that engulfs Jungkook’s apartment once you enter the following Monday is quite unnerving, as it brings back memories of the last time this happened and a half-naked woman came out of the bedroom and questioned who you were. The gym is empty. There’s no other sound of someone typing away or talking on the phone like the few times that you found Jungkook working before you even arrived.

You take a deep breath and decide to just face whoever comes out of these doors until one of them opens and out comes the man himself - alone - dressed in an oversized jumper and sweatpants. He looks like he just got out of bed with his semi-mussed hair - with a little sprout bouncing along as he moves - and groggy eyes, which widen once it registers that you’re here.

“Mr. Jeon,” you bow in greeting. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little,” he replies, his deep and gruff voice startling you a little. “What do you have there?”

He gestures towards the paper bag you’re holding, and you remember what you decided to bring over.

“Uh, chicken noodle soup,” you mutter, somehow suddenly shy. “Just an option for this morning. I wasn’t sure if you were still feeling under the weather.”

“I think I’m just fatigued,” he says. “But uh, I can have that.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, putting it in a pot to eventually heat.

You prepare his suits for the week then prepare his breakfast, pouring yourself a small serving as well. He takes his seat and starts eating, and you glance at him to see his reaction.

“Where did you get the one from last Saturday?” He asks, his face expressionless.

“From a store nearby,” you answer. “I was heading somewhere and your building was on the way.”

“This tastes better. Where did you get this from?”

“I, uh, I made it,” you say softly, feeling a bit of pride that it’s something he complimented.

There’s prolonged silence that you’re suddenly nervous about. His eyes remain focused straight ahead while yours constantly flit towards him, partly to gauge if he’ll start talking about last week’s meeting and partly to see his reaction about your dish.

“You don’t have to send or make me food, Ms. Cho,” he finally says, wishing he’d said it with a bit more warmth.

But he’s not used to speaking that way, so it comes off as displeasure, as if he doesn’t appreciate what you’d done even if that’s exactly how he feels. He’s grateful; he just doesn’t want another reason to think that you actually care about him.

“My health is my responsibility, not yours,” he adds.

“I, uh… I suppose that’s true,” you say even more softly. “I just thought it would be nice to be given something like this when you’re sick.”

And it’s the truth. During the times you were unwell, Hoseok would remind you to rest or take your medicines; he even bought you vitamins and it’s why taking them became a habit of yours. You barely had the energy to make soup. But after that one time when you braved through an event and Yoongi noticed you feeling under the weather, he took you to a noodle house and ordered extra chicken noodle soup for you to take home. You had it all through the weekend, and though it wasn’t like your mom’s, it was still something familiar, and it was comfort that you badly needed.

You thought it was something you could extend to Jungkook. You weren’t sure if he was spending the weekend at home by himself, but in case he was, you thought that something warm would help. You were on your way to watch a local film and happened to pass by his area, the image of him sick and probably alone prompting you to just buy that dish and leave it at the reception. You suddenly craved it and made one for yourself last night, thinking it wouldn’t hurt if you brought some over for him as well. Even if he thinks it isn’t your responsibility, you think it’s still within your role to make sure that your boss - the Vice President - conducts his functions properly, and he can only do so if he’s healthy.

As you finish the small portion that you prepared for yourself, Jungkook wonders who’d taken care of you during the times you were sick. With your friends and family miles away, perhaps there wasn’t anyone. Maybe it was a boyfriend. Or maybe like what he’s come to see, you did things on your own. Maybe you think there’s no one doing that for him, too.

And you wouldn’t be wrong. He was never good with company, after all, whether it was offering or keeping it. So when someone offers something as simple as a bowl of soup for when he’s feeling unwell, it cuts through the walls he’s built around himself because he’s become used to no one even knocking to check how he’s doing.

But in an effort to remain unmoved and insistent on keeping his distance, he sets boundaries once more.

“You don’t need to do this for me, Mr. Cho,” he states. “I appreciate it, but I’d prefer if you don’t do it again.”

He sees your face fall from his periphery, and much as he wants to take it back, he knows he has to hold back. It was hard enough to resist feeling cared for.

He’d really spent the weekend by himself, turning down his friends’ invitation to go to a resort and Hoseok’s offer of dinner at this newly opened steak house. Jungkook was buried under the covers when the phone rang informing him that you’d left something for him, unwilling to move and get off the bed because he was too tired but also too hungry, so when he opened the bag and it registered to him what you've given him, he felt less alone and less sad for himself. The image of your shy expression flashed through his mind and he couldn’t help the smile he let out, giving himself only a minute to bask in your kindness before reminding himself that it means nothing more than making sure he’s well. It’s harder for you if he’s sick, he convinced himself. Still, he’d rather not think about it; he’d rather not torture himself by his brain wanting you to mean one thing, but his heart hoping it was another.

“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your voice a little too firm for his liking. “I apologize if it made you uncomfortable.”

“It—” didn’t, he wants to say. It made him feel nice and comfortable and that’s what he can’t let himself feel around you.

“I treat this as part of my job,” you reason, a half lie because you really did want to extend some kindness even if he may not exactly be deserving of it. “But it may not be so for you. I’ll take note of this moving forward.”

Jungkook concedes. Any objection will counter what he’s been saying, even if he didn’t mean all of it. And like how you always do, you get over it quickly, flashing him a measured smile and taking out your iPad to go through this week’s schedule.

You both head to the car after and discuss his previous meetings. You’re detailed and engaged, taking down notes and asking him questions like the professional that you are. He tells you about his meeting with artist Lee Jaemin and that he agreed with 80% of the pieces that you and Yoongi chose. You talk about the Board members’ reactions during his presentation and he shares what they talked to him about during the dinner.

“Socializing with them was tiring,” he admits. “I couldn’t keep up with all the things that they wanted to talk about.”

You give him an assuring smile. “You looked like you did well,” you assure him. “They seemed engaged, although as Mr. Jung would say, part of that is for show, to get on your good side. It would be smarter to think that not all of it was genuine.”

“True. But I enjoyed speaking with Mr. Saito. He’s an architect, too, and we had a really good talk about incorporating traditional elements in a modern design.”

“Yes, he’s always been kind,” you say. “But it’s good that you’re able to forge these relationships. Perhaps it’s also new to them, seeing you in that light. I suppose they don’t know you all that much. It’s a nice change being able to engage with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, well, it’s just during the company events that you attended, it wasn’t exactly hard to spot you,” you chuckle, seemingly comfortable now.

“And why is that so?”

He turns to you, legitimately curious because he’d never really noticed you before, even if he knew you as Hoseok’s assistant. If he’s being honest, you didn’t even look familiar when you first met, and that just reinforces the fact that Jungkook didn’t really care for the other people around him, especially during those events he was required to fly to Seoul to attend. If he’d paid a bit more attention, maybe he wouldn’t have been caught off guard when he did finally meet you. Maybe he wouldn’t have been as rude, too.

“If I may, sir, it was quite easy to spot one of the Jeon sons always at the bar,” you chuckle. “Your father and cousin would often look for you and you were always in the same spot.”

You’d noticed him, Jungkook thinks to himself. He wonders what you’d thought about him then, but given how he hated those events, it probably wouldn’t be something good. He just always couldn’t wait to leave.

“Ah. As you can tell, I’m not one who likes to socialize,” he says. “I don’t really know what to talk to people about. And I’m not that good with names nor faces. It was easier to keep to myself.”

“That’s understandable. But you already know that’ll have to change,” you remind him. “Half of what Mr. Jung did was attend events.”

“I know. He’s been preparing me for that. I need your help in that aspect, too, from remembering names to getting my energy up. Those are oddly what I’m most nervous about, if I’m being honest.”

“I’ll do what I can, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I hope I can make things easy for you.”

You’ll never know the irony of your words, and perhaps the push and pull it brings about - as you try to make things easy for him, the harder it actually becomes on his end.

You find yourself back at the tailor shop the next Thursday for Jungkook’s suit fitting, and if it wasn’t for Taehyung telling you that your gowns are ready, you would have totally forgotten that you had some dresses made as well.

While Jungkook tries on his outfits, you’re instructed to choose several dress shirts that he’d be adding to his wardrobe, given the various functions he’d be attending from now on. You didn’t anticipate for this to be part of your role, but you don’t mind, as it’s a welcome change to what you normally do, which is attend meetings, bury yourself in paperwork, and everything else in between. At least you’ll be visiting the venue for the Arts Center event tomorrow, but today, you focus on the task at hand, which turns out to be harder than expected.

The options are endless. It doesn’t help that you have to envision Jungkook in each piece of clothing and that he looks good in every one of them, and that you have to imagine him at all. You see him everyday - and have seen him in as little as in just his gym shorts - and you don’t really want to have him in your mind as well. But how he presents himself is a big part of his new role, as Hoseok had told you. As the Vice President, Jungkook needs to look sophisticated and respectable, someone worthy to represent the company and the Jeon family name.

You go for different hues of grays and blacks and other colors, too. There’s an olive green that looks really nice, and a few maroons and pinks that would add variety to his everyday look. You’re focused on making your choices, but your focus shifts to Jungkook when he comes out of the dressing room donned in a patterned black suit. The fit is perfect and even with the distance between you two, you could spot impeccable details that make the outfit look elegant yet fresh.

“This is for the gala,” Taehyung states. “What do you think, Ms. Cho?”

“It looks nice” is all you manage to say.

It’s the only word you feel is neutral enough to describe him. Even if you could accept that Jungkook is handsome, you don’t exactly want to say so in front of him.

“I was going for something better than nice, but that should be fine, I guess. What do you think, Kook?”

“I like it. But don’t you think the sleeves are a bit too fit on my arms?” Jungkook asks his friend.

“Well, it’s not like you were flexing them when I was measuring you,” Taehyung playfully rolls his eyes. “But I can adjust it, since I doubt you’d take a pause on lifting weights anyway. It’s probably the material though so don’t worry, I’ll fix this. Okay, on to the next one.”

You return to your task at hand, choosing some patterned tops that are appropriate for less formal events, and you inform Taehyung who then says that he’ll have those made in Jungkook’s measurements. With your task finished, Taehyung instructs you to head downstairs so you could fit your gowns as well, and you follow in anticipation because these might just be the first and only custom-made pieces of clothing you’ll ever have the luxury of wearing.

A female staff assists you, making sure that the length and neckline are to your liking. The first outfit, the one for the Arts Center event, is an old rose sleeveless lace midi dress that looks even more gorgeous when worn. The gown for the Appointment Dinner is a black short-sleeved pleated piece that is both functional and fashionable, but it’s the last one - the one for the gala - that has your jaw dropping to the ground.

“Ms. Cho,” you hear Taehyung call out from outside the fitting room. “Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, unable to stop looking at yourself in the mirror and turning around to try to see every angle of the stunning dress. “It’s just, uh…”

“It’s what?” He asks worriedly. “Can you come outside so I can see?”

You take a breath before pulling the heavy curtains open and find Taehyung and Jungkook standing not far away.

“It’s too pretty, Mr. Kim,” you say shyly. “I don’t think I can wear this.”

“Well, you will. Because it’s custom-made,” he points out. “And it looks gorgeous on you. It fits perfectly. I assume the others do as well?”

“Yes,” you smile, feeling like a fairytale princess who gets to wear a gown that her fairy godmother had made for her. “They’re just…”

“Exactly what you need as this guy’s right hand woman,” Taehyung finishes for you.

He gestures towards his best friend who seems expressionless and probably unimpressed by how you look. It’s not like you mind but it at least wouldn’t be humiliating if he just stood there looking uninterested.

“What do you think, Kook?”

“It looks nice,” Jungkook shrugs, repeating the words you’d used on him earlier. Shifting his gaze from you to Taehyung, he excuses himself. “I’ll head to the car, I have calls to make.”

“I’ll finish up here,” you say, turning around to go back to the fitting room.

Jungkook exits the shop and finally breathes, feeling like he’d suffocated inside because of how you looked. He’d wondered how the dresses turned out, curious about the designs because Taehyung didn’t want to show him; it’s a surprise, the man had said. And now Jungkook knows why.

Stunning would be an inadequate word to use. The burgundy color of the gown made it look sophisticated on you, even more with the off-shoulder that showed off some of your features that he’d rather not think about. The flow was elegant, and he half wishes that he hadn’t thought of having these made only so he could avoid the moment earlier when he felt his throat dry up because of how beautiful you looked.

He’s gonna have to get used to being rendered speechless every time, he thinks, but it’s not like it doesn’t happen everyday, anyway. Every morning that he finds you standing in his kitchen, donning the pencil skirt and blouse ensemble that assistants are recommended to wear, his mind short circuits. There’s something especially fresh and electrifying about you at the start of the day, and he always has to pull himself together and act normal around you without giving himself away.

He can’t nurture the attraction, after all, even if he’s reminded of it during times like earlier, even more so when he gazes at you and you hold it, letting the tension build unconsciously. Because that’s what happened, as you pulled open the curtains and looked up. He wishes you were too shy to notice how long he had his eyes on you. But it’s why he had to get away. You’re too much for him sometimes, and he doesn’t know if you have any idea of how you affect him.

Jungkook stares at his phone, half hoping that an actual call would come to distract him. But nothing does, and he leans his head back and groans in frustration. What is it about you that makes him absolutely weak in the knees and stupid in the head?

Back inside, you give Taehyung your address so he can have the gowns delivered to your apartment for your convenience.

“Thank you again, Mr. Kim,” you say. “I wish I could do your creations justice.”

“You will. It’s in the confidence, so exude it, okay?”

“I’ll try,” you giggle. “Especially since those pieces will pretty much blow the Office of the VP’s budget.”

“Is that what Kook said? That these are budgeted under him?” Taehyung arches an eyebrow.

“Uh, yes, sort of. I just assumed because he’d pointed out that they were being made as part of my functions,” you explain.

“Hmm. I know his office has a lot of money but these gowns would definitely blow up any contingency fund you have,” he chuckles. “So no, your assumption is wrong. Kook’s paying for all this.”

“What?” You exclaim. “But that’s— why?”

“Well, you do need these as part of your job, and he wanted to save you the inconvenience of spending for them. I mean, he did buy Lucas some suits, too. But between you and me, I think this is his way of apologizing to you, just in a very gallant way.”

“You mean unnecessary and undeserving,” you correct, still in shock that Jungkook is paying for all those, even if yes, he can easily afford them.

“Nope, not at all. I know he’s been difficult to deal with and I’d like to apologize on his behalf, seeing that he’s terrible at doing it. I know it doesn’t make things better but at least it’s something you don’t have to worry about anymore.”

“Well, that does help a bit,” you smile, following him as he heads out the door. “But thank you again, Mr. Kim.”

“Off with the formalities,” he laughs. “It’s Taehyung. And you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do to somehow make up for my ass of a best friend.”

“He’s not too bad. Not anymore, at least,” you counter. “I’ll go ahead. Have a good day, Taehyung!”

Jungkook manages to look down on his phone in time for you not to see him watch you talk freely and casually with his friend. That’s another person close to him who gets to experience how you’re like - joyful and warm, perhaps a little shy sometimes, but comfortable just the same. It’s something he’ll only see from afar; your positions necessitate some distance, but perhaps that’s better than not having you around at all.

You enter the car and you’re back to being quiet and reserved, your eyes focused on the road while Jungkook, in an effort not to keep glancing at you, turns to his leather notebook and doodles some designs that pop in his head. It’s his way of calming himself down most days, helping him focus given that his mind is often filled with too many thoughts that he can’t express. He hopes that in drawing them, he can somehow rid himself of the feelings he’s locked in and it helps, as he’s somehow able to get over the tension from earlier and the tiniest bit of jealousy over your casual engagement with Taehyung.

You both return to the office, with Jungkook proceeding to his room to prepare for a lunch meeting and you follow, taking some signed documents that he’d left earlier.

“Mr. Jeon,” you say as he settles in his seat. “Thank you for the dresses. I… I’ve never had anything as beautiful as those and undeserving as I may feel, I’m just really appreciative.”

Jungkook isn’t prepared for the softness in your voice as you say the words, and like the consistent jerk that he is, he brushes it off.

“Taehyung made them; you should thank him. I just paid for them,” he utters, his tone stern and uncaring.

His eyes flit to you when there’s silence on your end, and he wishes they hadn’t. There’s resignation in yours, as if he’s shattering another moment you’re creating where you’re just being sincere and he’s being dismissive. It’s his default, he reasons, not just towards you but towards everyone. Normally he wouldn’t mind how the other would take it, but with you right now, he wishes he was so much better than this.

You hold his gaze, as if trying to tell him things you don’t want to express. He’s not one to apologize, but he also won’t accept gratitude. You’re starting to think that what Jungkook can’t handle is any form of human connection. It’s something you struggle with at times, but you’re at least open to it, willing to accept kindness and appreciating people for what they have to offer. Jungkook deflects; he turns away. It seemed like it took so much for him to even verbalize needing your help and perhaps he was desperate; his reputation was on the line after all. But even then, he doesn’t give nor does he accept, and you wonder what made him that way.

“Is there anything else?” He finally asks after a long beat of silence.

“Nothing more,” you shake your head and excuse yourself.

Returning to your desk, you look at Jungkook from your seat. There’s a hint of emptiness in his eyes that you often mistake for apathy. Perhaps there’s more and perhaps the help he really needs isn’t just about dealing with his father or remembering names or navigating relationships required for his role. Maybe it’s about opening himself up a little, or smiling when the situation calls for it, or not questioning other people’s kindness towards him. Maybe it’s about realizing he’s more than just this heir to the company or the playboy he’s known as. Maybe it’s about seeing that he’s capable of sincerity and gentleness as well.

You sigh to yourself. It’s probably a long shot but you only feel strongly about it because you know what it’s like to turn people away. If it hadn’t been for your family and friends, you probably would’ve continued to do so. Jungkook may be your boss but he’s human, too, and he may just be waiting around to see who’d be patient enough to extend a hand and let him know that he’s not alone, that someone understands, and maybe that someone is you.

The days fly by too quickly for your liking and you haven't been able to take a breath. You had a meeting with the organizing committee of the Appointment Dinner most of last Friday and you spent your weekend coordinating with the designers for the Arts Center launch. It’s been last minute preparations these past two days and before you know it, Wednesday has come. You stayed late the night before and were gladly checked in at the hotel with the other assistants, so you at least got a bit of sleep even if your body felt like it continued to stay awake.

But tonight is important, as the newly appointed executives will be formally introduced to the corporation’s directors, shareholders, and subsidiary companies. You’ve been organizing this with the planning committee since the appointments were announced, and given that coordinating events like this is one of your primary tasks, you’re exhausted and excited and nervous all at once. But it’s the second time you’re doing this and you’ve learned so much since you did this for Hoseok. There’s more knowledge, sure, but there’s also more confidence. You also know enough to eat before the guests arrive and at 3PM, it’s exactly what you do, knowing you won’t have much else until the event ends.

The other employees compliment your dress, and you’re too shy to say who had designed it but you eventually do, knowing it’s good for Taehyung’s brand. But you don’t say much else, choosing instead to focus on the guest list as you’re tasked to do, and you go around the events hall to make sure that the VIP name cards are placed on their proper tables. You’re able to sneak bites of the canapes as you go, allowing yourself a flute of champagne for that kick you need to socialize with the guests tonight.

You engage with the early birds when they arrive, guiding them to their seats and putting on your most welcoming smile. You get Mr. Ri’s message that they’re nearby, so you head outside and stand by the entrance and wait for them, knowing Jungkook would want to know how things are going.

He exits the car in a black suit and white top, a statement brooch adorning his classic coat. The strands of his long hair are tucked behind his ears and he looks even more polished than usual, a look that catches attention; it definitely catches yours.

“Mr. Jeon,” you bow in greeting. “Some of your invited guests have arrived.”

“Have you spoken to them?” He asks, as you walk slightly behind him towards the venue.

“I have, and they’re looking forward to seeing you.”

He nods, and just as he’s about to enter the hall, he stops and turns towards you.

“You’re busy tonight, aren’t you?”

“Somewhat, sir,” you reply. “We all have our tasks but I’m free to move around. Do you need help with anything?”

“Just, uh, names.”

“I’ll always be nearby,” you assure him.

Your smile gives him the comfort he needs. He’s been without it since yesterday afternoon, given that you had to prepare as part of the organizing committee. And while the support team and Yoongi have been encouraging, only you really know why every event such as this is important for him.

Jungkook has already made gains with some of the Board members last week; this time, it’s about engaging everyone else - the staff, the partners, and key personalities in the industry. Hoseok and Ji-woo have done this before but it’s Jungkook’s first time. He’s no longer just an executive in the Southeast Asian office; he’s now the Vice President of the entire company. There’s a lot of pressure that comes from carrying the Jeon family name, and even more being the only one of the two sons who’s taking on such an important role.

The event hall is grand. It’s pretty special, too. It’s one of the projects he worked on as part of the design department years ago before he left for Singapore, and the thought makes him stop. Perhaps this is the reason why his father chose this venue for tonight; if anything, it’s a reminder of what Jungkook is capable of. He takes a breath and looks around to soak everything in before approaching his invited guests - partners and consultants he worked with in his previous role.

But that ends quickly, as many more people approach him for a greeting.

Jungkook is a bit overwhelmed. He tries to hold eye contact when he speaks to them but he can only do so for so long. Some faces are familiar but the names escape him, and he starts to regret all the times that he flew here for events like this and never engaged with the other guests. If he had, perhaps this wouldn’t be so hard.

There are those who introduce themselves, while there are those who don’t, perhaps assuming that he’d know who they are. Just like the couple who’s speaking to him excitedly, and he wants to return the energy by at least calling them by their names. His mind is blank, and just as he’s about to give up, he looks up and sees you, your eyes catching his as if you’re just waiting for his cry for help.

There’s pleading in his eyes and you get it immediately, as you walk towards his direction then greet the pair next to him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Yamada,” you say. “It’s lovely to see both of you again. I saw in the news that you’re launching a new project with our partners from Dubai. That’s quite exciting.”

“Ah, Ms. Cho,” they greet you back. “Yes, all thanks to Mr. Jung who helped us with that partnership. We’re excited for it as well.”

“Oh, I’m sure. We’re looking forward to it,” you smile.

“Thank you. I’m pleased to know that you remain as the Vice President’s assistant,” Mrs. Yamada says. “Perhaps we can invite Mr. Jeon to one of our hotels in Japan? Or even in London?”

You turn to Jungkook who looks less tense than he did a few minutes ago.

“Ah, yes, that would be great, Mr. and Mrs. Yamada,” he responds. “I’m sure I’ll find time during one of my trips and I’ll definitely give you a call. Perhaps we can talk about projects we can work on as well.”

The excitement in the couple’s faces is a joy to see and for their sake, you really do wish that Jungkook makes good on his promise. You ask him about it after they leave, and he says that the names were familiar. Ji-woo’s talked about working with them before and that they’re long-time friends of the family, so he should maintain that relationship.

A call of his name prompts both of you to look to the side, and he turns to you with a questioning face.

“Mr. Adam’s an investor. Behind him is Professor Zhang from SNU. They’re friends of your father,” you tell him. Seeing Bitna signal for you, you say, “I have to check on something, Mr. Jeon. I’ll be back.”

You turn around to head to one of the tables, but you look back to watch Jungkook greet those who approach him, his smile becoming more natural as the moments pass by. You briefly meet with some staff about the musical guest and some other last minute adjustments. You greet Taehyung and Seokjin who show up to support their best friend, with both men complimenting how you look.

Knowing that Jungkook will be needing you again after, you call over Do-hyun and Yohan and delegate some of your monitoring tasks to them, and then stand by one of the tables as you watch the socialization take place as more guests come in.

Your eyes find Jungkook again as he’s engaged in a conversation with some Board members and other partners, and you smile a little at how he’s able to maintain eye contact and look like he’s actually interested, especially after he looks up and gives you a look as if to say that he’s trying his best.

“Why are you watching him like some child who’s trying to make friends at the playground?” Chin-sun asks, the teasing tone of her voice making you chuckle. “He’s a grown man, you know? He can hold his own.”

“I know,” you reply, turning to her. “But it’s one of the many things that’s new about his role. And probably one of the more important ones. I just wanna let him know that he’s doing a good job.”

“Well, there’s no wife or girlfriend to do that. I guess that makes it your responsibility then.”

You disregard her comment’s implication and point out that Hoseok does that for Jungkook, too, but he’s just as busy and perhaps just as nervous as well.

“It matters a lot to hear it. Plus, social events can be overwhelming and isolating at the same time. He’s still getting used to it,” you add.

The prolonged silence prompts you to turn to her.

“You know, I admire you for a lot of things,” she says. “Your ability to remain kind after everything is one of them. I mean, after how he treated you those first few weeks? That was tough.”

Your resigned face pushes her to continue. “Do-hyun could’ve gone on without telling me about seeing you cry and I still would’ve known. You tried to hide it but your smile always fell too fast and your eyes were just always sad. Must’ve been hard, trying to get the team on his side when you couldn’t do that for yourself.”

“I honestly don’t know how I survived that first month,” you laugh to mask the sadness from that experience. “But that’s in the past. He still has his moments but at least there are good ones now. I’m here to do my job. Being kind after everything is part of it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to keep it to yourself though,” she laments. “If we couldn’t help, we could’ve at least cheered you up.”

“I didn’t want to bring you guys into it,” you say. “The team was incredibly busy with so many things and I managed. That’s what matters.”

“Oh, ___,” she sighs. “You put so much of yourself in your job. I think that’s why the bosses trust you. But that takes so much out of you, too. Do you have anything left for yourself?”

“What’s left is right here, Chin-sun. I don’t think I know what I am outside of all this.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? I mean, I’ve worked with you for three years and I can’t say I really know you outside of this, too. And if you can’t… well, that’s something to think about.”

“And I have. It’s something I’ve asked myself, but trying to find the answer isn’t as easy as asking the question. So I just put all my energy into my work because where else would I? It at least pays the bills and lets me enjoy little luxuries every once in a while,” you reason.

“Well, I know what learning who you are outside of this job would entail, and I’m a little selfish because I need you around,” she smiles. “No one does things the way you do, and that’s also why I figured that at some point, Mr. Jeon was gonna get himself together because he can’t afford to lose you. You’re so good at this, ___. He’s lucky you didn’t quit.”

“Apparently, it takes a lot to get me to quit,” you reply.

Or I was just never brave enough to do it, you want to say. Asking the question is indeed always easier than finding the answer.

“Let’s hope you find a way to find yourself without resigning. We can’t afford to lose you, too,” she winks.

“I appreciate that, Chin-sun. Thank you.”

“Well, I think it matters that you know that you’re doing amazing. I hope he treats you as you deserve.”

He tries, you think to yourself. At least that’s what you hope.

The call of your names from a familiar voice excites you, as A-yeong approaches you and Chin-sun. You engage in your usual hushed conversations until you see Jungkook in another sea of people and you decide to approach him, the relief on his face telling you that he’s indeed been needing you.

It’s not your preferred crowd. Something you’ve learned in your years of attending these events is that you would smile and entertain them and men would think it’s an invitation to invade your personal space. A lingering touch on the elbow, a hand on your waist, standing a millimeter too close… and they disregard your uncomfortable look or attempts at stepping away.

The man you’re introduced to is new but his ways aren’t, and you scan the hall to find Bitna who turns to you in time, the look you give her signaling another person to look out for. It’s a system they developed that they’ve filled you in on, and you immediately excuse yourself and check on the food served at the back even if you know they’re still well stocked. It at least allows you a breather. You’re not even a main actor but you’re tired as hell from socializing with people.

It’s not long after when the event starts. Speeches and a performance take place while dishes are being put out, and it’s after the main course is served when Jungkook steps away from his seat.

Choosing to stand towards the back before he’s called on stage to be introduced, he scans the hall and thinks about the work that the committee put in, including you, who had to deal with him while dealing with all this. He catches sight of you speaking with the other assistants, and he already knows there’s some planning going on. But like the last time, he felt you around even if you were busy; you held his gaze during the times he felt a little overwhelmed.

“You ready?”

Yoongi’s voice is deep but calming, and Jungkook takes it as his friend’s way of encouraging him.

“Not really, but I’ll manage.”

“Good. You’ve got people on your side,” Yoongi assures him. “Like me. And especially her.”

He gestures towards the left where Jungkook sees you approaching them. Since you started working for him, he didn’t expect how easily he could find comfort in your presence. He went from wishing you were someone else, to wanting to distance himself from you, to constantly hoping you were around. Those last two could actually coexist, and they do. There’s still detachment as his means to combat the attraction - he tries not to care about you, to not get to know you, to remind himself of who you are in his life, but he still depends on you for support, for comfort, for stability. You make his life easier; you also make it feel less lonely. And every time you’re there is a moment where he feels like he could breathe, like the noise in his mind stills because he’s forced to focus on you; somehow, you captivate him that way.

“Are you ready, Mr. Jeon?”

The contrasting tenderness of your voice gives him that boost and he nods despite the lingering nervousness.

“I guess so,” he huffs. “Let’s get this over with.”

He walks towards his seat up front while you stay behind with Yoongi who leads you to one of the free tables at the back. You both don’t say much to each other, focusing instead on the short speeches that Ji-woo and Hoseok give, both of them expressing their gratitude and giving previews of upcoming projects to look forward to. They’re masters at commanding a crowd, as evidenced by their engagement and loud applause at the end of it. You can already imagine Jungkook feeling even more nervous, knowing that’s not really his style, but you hope that your earlier encouragement lingers, as he walks towards the stage.

He delivers his speech flawlessly. Knowing him the way you do, you could tell he let his vulnerability shine through, even if it may not seem much to everyone else. The teaser about the Arts Center gets people excited, which he builds up on. He even slides in a few jokes that surprisingly get the audience entertained.

A small smile paints your face and from next to you, Yoongi chuckles in almost disbelief.

“Is it safe to say you’re proud of him?” He asks, as Jungkook walks down the stage and CEO Jeon takes the mic.

“You could say that,” you turn to him. “It’s silly, considering how things started. I… I didn’t think I’d be genuinely rooting for him, you know? But I am. I really want him to do well.”

“That’s good to hear, ___. I guess it means that things really are changing and he’s treating you better.”

“I think they are,” you hum. “I mean, not the best, but I also don’t know what that’s supposed to look like. I guess I’m just understanding who he is a little bit better now. And I think that makes the difference.”

“Like I said, he’s not a terrible person. He just needs… someone to be patient with him, someone to show him kindness,” Yoongi says. “I think that’s what he lost along the way. He stopped being that way to himself and so did people. They just didn’t want to upset him, but they also didn’t give or show anything more.”

“You think so?”

“Why do you think it’s so hard for him to forge even the simplest and most basic connections?” Yoongi questions. “They lack meaning for him. I think he’s forgotten what that’s like. Without sincerity or kindness, without intensity or honesty, there’s just… emptiness. Everything is fleeting for him.”

“And you’re telling me this, why?” You eye him curiously.

“Because I think your kindness did something to him.”

“And that is?”

“He’s showing a bit of that to himself, too. And I guess to others as well,” Yoongi explains.

“I’m a mere assistant doing her job, Yoongi,” you shake your head. “It’s a little selfish but I do what I can to appease him and to make our relationship good enough to make this job bearable for me. If it makes him a better person, good for him and better for me. I’ll just keep doing it then.”

Your friend’s silence prompts you to turn towards him. He seems to be in deep thought, perhaps analyzing what you’d just said, which he tends to do.

There’s no lie in your statement. You’d done your part of standing up to Jungkook at the start; you at least got to show you were capable of fighting for yourself in that sense. But after that, you learned that keeping things in and letting him see how his actions affect you works as well. You show kindness because it’s natural for you, but also because it keeps the peace, it keeps both of you stable.

But you can also admit that you do all that because wanting him to know that he’s got you on his side is a way to tell yourself that you’ve got people rooting for you, too, even if you’re not the best at keeping relationships nor keeping people close. You show Jungkook what you want to experience from people; you make him feel what you want to feel. Maybe that makes you selfish. You think it also makes you human.

It’s not something you tell Yoongi, though. But maybe with the way he looks at you assuringly, you suppose he knows it, too.

The event finally ends and the guests start exiting the venue. You bid them goodbye while instructing some in-house staff about cleaning up. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon greet you on their way out, commending you for your work along with the others, and it’s their encouraging smiles that remind you of one of the reasons why you stick to this job. They’re people you don’t want to disappoint as well, and seeing them satisfied is always a good thing.

“Hey, you’re officially off the clock,” Bitna reminds you. “A couple of us are staying for closing, remember?”

“Right,” you smile.

They have a day off tomorrow because of tonight but it’s not something you can afford, given that you’ve got the Arts Center event one a week from now. It’s almost midnight and you’d have to be up in 5 hours.

“I’ll get going then. I’ll just say goodbye to— oh, Mr. Jeon,” you say, finding him just as you were about to look for him. “Is there anything I can help you with before I leave?”

“Oh, there’s nothing. Just, uh, how are you getting home?”

“A cab,” you answer.

Yoongi nudges your arm from next to you with a pout on his face. “Yah! I’ll take you home. It’s not safe to take a cab this late.”

“Yes, that’s preferable, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook says. “It’s been a long night.”

“Okay, sir,” you nod. “And it has. You also did really well. I didn’t expect the jokes but they were obviously a hit. Yoongi laughed, that’s how I know.”

“You laughed, too,” Yoongi points out.

“I’m glad it worked, then,” Jungkook says. “You can get going. You can also report to my place at 8AM to give you more time to rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungkook heads out and rushes to the car where Mr. Ri drives him home. His mind is still buzzing from what transpired but he’s glad he managed like he said he would, like you believed he would.

And amidst the relief that he did well and the nervousness from having to do something similar again next week, there’s you, a vision that he quickly shakes off and one he finds himself seeing after every big and small thing that he does.

Your warm shower and your bed have never felt this good, only because you’re as tired as you are and you want nothing more than the weekend to come. But you’ve got a few more stressful days ahead of you and you try to push through them one at a time.

You go to Jungkook later than usual that Thursday then spend much of the entire day meeting with him and the team about next week’s event. You conduct a visit to the venue the next day and then spend the weekend answering guests’ queries and helping Chin-sun coordinate with suppliers. Monday and Tuesday have you going from one place to another and hopping from one meeting to the next, all while balancing your executive assistant and events manager responsibilities.

It’s incredibly tiring, but you also won’t deny the exhilaration you feel. There’s something so satisfying about seeing everything come together, especially as you look around the venue - an industrial commercial space that Jungkook and Yoongi jointly designed specifically for tonight. The high ceilings allow for the large panels that project the Arts Center design, with bright lights Illuminating the curated sculptures and art pieces placed around. The space elicits a feeling of newness and familiarity, of hollowness and clarity. There’s integration of traditional and modern elements and essentially, of history and emergence.

It leaves you quite breathless as you look around. It’s not even the Arts Center itself but you know that this is the emotion that Jungkook wants the guests to feel. He wants them to be in awe, to look on in excitement.

“It’s pretty great, huh?” Yoongi asks next to you. “Worth all the hard work.”

“It is. Design and logistics did amazing in putting this together,” you say, given that you’ve spent the entire day working with both teams to set this up.

“Well, Jungkook’s vision is captivating to begin with. It really makes a difference when you’re led by a creative mind. Selling the idea won’t be so hard in a place like this.”

“I really hope so. We’re banking on the artists for exposure. There are gonna be articles about it, too. The whole process is being documented and that makes the final product much more exciting,” you explain. “I… I actually feel really good being a part of this. I’m glad I didn’t quit after that first week.”

Yoongi laughs along with you, knowing now that that experience no longer bothers you the way it used to. But he’s glad about it, too, not only because he selfishly wants you around but even more, he knew that you needed this, that you needed to feel redeemed in Jungkook’s eyes and in yours. Yoongi hopes that as the project goes on, you’ll learn more about yourself and what you want, what you’re good at, what you can give, and what makes you happy.

“That makes both of us. I’m sure Jungkook thinks so, too,” Yoongi replies.

“Well, we’ll never know because he’ll probably never admit it but it’s a good thought,” you smile. “As long as we maintain this unproblematic dynamic, I’m good.”

“Speaking of which, where is he?”

“On the way,” you say. “He had a meeting to attend and he said he’ll be fixing up here. He should be here in a few minutes.”

Do-hyun approaches you about the photographer and you excuse yourself, instructing Yohan next to her to lead Jungkook to the waiting room when he arrives.

Jungkook steps into the venue and like he’d hoped, he feels the energy as he takes it all in. There’s a lot of possibility as he looks around, and that’s what he wants the guests to see. He wants the artists to envision their own pieces displayed; he wants the creatives to imagine fashion shows and photo shoots and videos that come to life; he wants people to see the potential of an Arts Center beyond just looking at art pieces.

But underneath the pride is nervousness. There will be important personalities coming today and it’s his opportunity to engage with them, to make them want to be a part of this. Talking about the details of the project would be easy; it’s connecting with them that’s a challenge. He had last week’s Appointment Dinner as a trial and like you said, he did well. It’s tonight that matters so much more to him. He supposes that what happens will set the trajectory for how the promotion of the Center will go, so making a good first impression is crucial.

Yohan approaches him and leads him towards the waiting room where his outfit, which Taehyung had pressed and sent over here, hangs on a rack. There are two magazine publications that will feature this event and both include an interview with him and some photos.

Jungkook starts dressing up, knowing he’ll be called for those not long from now. He looks at himself in the mirror and the uncertainty fills him again. It’s not the look he would’ve gone for but his best friend was adamant that an event like this calls for something new. With his trousers and fitted shirt on, Jungkook breathes in and out, and it’s at the same time when there’s a knock on the door and your call of his name suddenly makes him nervous.

You enter, stopping as you shut the door, your eyes a little wide, and look at him. You’re a sight to behold in your floral-laced dress and if he was anxious seconds ago, he’s even more now.

“I knew I should’ve stuck to the classic,” Jungkook sighs at your unmoving form.

“What—what do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, finally finding your voice.

“You’re not saying anything,” he frowns. “Tonight probably wasn’t the best time to show up in an outfit like this.”

“And why is that?” You wonder, walking closer to him now. You try to calm your racing heart because Jungkook looking this good in a checkered flared trouser and white v-neck shirt was not something you expected. “You look…”

“Pretentious?” He chuckles, shaking his head and bending towards the mirror, his angled body making you feel even hotter.

You’ve long accepted that Jungkook is a very handsome man. It’s probably why it was more frustrating despising him and, like Soomin said, also satisfying. He’s got a perfect mix of boyish and manly features with his doe eyes and chiseled jaw; the aura of confidence and nonchalance perhaps add to that as well. It also doesn’t help that he has a really good physique, something you’d seen on his first day on the job and one you’d denied affected you. You’d gotten used to it somehow. Hard as it was to suppress those thoughts every time you fixed his tie or watched him walk about his penthouse in his gym clothes, you managed. You’ve always been professional, and you’ve always reminded yourself to not let it affect you.

But tonight, it’s just hard not to, especially with the way his biceps are popping out of those short sleeves; and if the shirt were an inch tighter, you’d probably be able to trace his toned chest and abs as well. He’s cut his hair, too, slick and pushed back as if he's starring in some western rockstar film.

“Good…” you manage to say after what seemed like minutes. “The outfit looks good on you, sir. It’s new and fresh, not like the usual formal attire that screams ‘businessman who only wants profits.’ This is posh and stylish. It makes you look more approachable.”

“This is what would make me look approachable?” He asks incredulously.

“Actually, a smile would,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh. “But this works, too. It fits with the theme.”

“That’s what Tae said, too,” Jungkook sighs. “He insisted that at least for these Arts Center-related events, I should dress a little more boldly and more interesting, things I definitely am not but, well, I couldn’t counter him when he said that my usual prints and styles make me look like I’m just going to a meeting or some business conference.”

“And he’s not wrong,” you point out, walking closer to him. “You don’t need anything eccentric, just something exciting. This is simple yet sophisticated.”

“Have you seen the coat?” He asks, gesturing to the rack when you say no.

“Oh. There’s a corsage,” you say, admiring the matching brown checkered piece.

“An oversized one,” he rolls his eyes.

“It looks pretty.”

“That’s what he said, too.”

“If you don’t like it, why didn’t you tell him during the fitting?”

“I did like it but it’s Tae - he’s good at convincing people that they look good. And I probably thought that, too. But he’s not yet here and he’s gonna be late so right now, all I can think about is that I’ll look ridiculous.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” you say, surprising him. “If what I think matters, then you’d have to take my word for it. The outfit looks good. It captures people’s attention and that’s what you need. You’re just gonna have to follow this up with similar styles but that wouldn’t be a problem. Just carry yourself with confidence. It’s what Mr. Kim would say.”

“I know. He texted that same line to me five times today.”

“He’s your best friend, Mr. Jeon. I’m sure he’s looking out for your best interest.”

“True, but then again, we were forced to become friends when we were young so who knows?”

You laugh at his words. “Is that so?”

“Our fathers are best friends so we spent a lot of time together,” Jungkook shares. “We were all so different and we got on each other’s nerves but I guess that made us closer. I… I wasn’t close to my brother so I just stuck with those who stuck around. It’s a good thing they turned out to be decent people.”

“They’re very kind, I should say.”

“Yeah. It sucks that their kindness didn’t rub off on me,” he says as he holds your gaze.

The tension rises as you look back at him. It’s hard not to fall into his eyes, and you’re thankful for the knock on the door and Yohan’s voice on the other side saying that the interviewer is ready for Jungkook now.

“Five minutes,” you call out, breaking the moment and retrieving his last piece of clothing.

You assist him in wearing his coat and just like reflex, you immediately fix the sleeves and adjust the corsage that isn’t actually that big. You look at him from head to toe and see Taehyung’s vision. There’s something captivating about Jungkook in this fit; it makes him intriguing and someone to look out for. You suppose that was the intention.

“Respectable enough?” He asks worriedly once you meet his eyes.

“Respectable enough,” you affirm, hoping your smile can give him the encouragement he needs.

You open the door and let the first set of crew in. You watch on as they interview and take snapshots while your own team from the marketing department capture what’s happening as well.

Jungkook sits cross-legged on the sofa, his eyes looking out into the distance as he absorbs the questions and thinks of his answers. He gesticulates as he responds, something you noticed him only ever do about topics that seem very important to him. He’s done it during meetings with the team and with Yoongi, and you suppose there’s that level of honesty that he shows then. His responses are thoughtful and profound, as the questions revolve around the type of art pieces to be displayed, how culture can be celebrated and respected, and what the public can look forward to once the Center is open to everyone.

The next interviewer starts off with the practical questions before moving to the technicalities of the design and structure such as the materials used, the techniques utilized in renovating such a massive complex, and how the Center itself represents art and culture. This is when Jungkook fully relaxes. You see it in his body language, in the softness of his expressions, and in the mellow tone of his voice as he discusses in terms you don’t fully understand but somehow still make you feel like you know exactly what he’s talking about.

It’s different seeing him in this way. Your team vetted these interviewers and publications and they seem sincere about their articles and so you know they aren’t there to judge; Jungkook knows they aren’t there to scrutinize him. He’s not there to impress them or even to sell the idea; he just wants to share it, to make it known, to narrate the process of this project that may still be in its very early stages but which has lived in his mind for years.

He may not always be good with words but you can tell that he finds them when the ideas are clear to him. He’s able to articulate what he sees in his mind and there’s something captivating about that. There’s a lot you can learn from him, you think, and if what you develop after having stayed this long is even just a fraction of his creativity, then you’d feel accomplished.

You can tell even more now how important this is to him, especially when he emphasizes the individual’s need and desire for connection and how he wants the Center to be a hub for that, or perhaps its creator. You wonder if he knows so much about it, or if, like you, it’s something he also constantly seeks.

You’re so focused on taking him all in that you don’t notice that you’ve been staring. Your eyes fall on his fingers, waving about as he draws imaginary pictures; they land on his lips, pink and dry as they utter words that are perhaps the most he’s said, and suddenly, his voice is the most comforting it’s ever sounded to you. You look upwards and that’s when you notice it - his eyes are on you just as yours are on him yet he continues talking, and you hold onto it for a few seconds before you feel the heat reach your cheeks. It feels like a burn and you snap out of the spell-like feeling you were caught in as you turn away now and try to catch your breath.

You hadn’t meant to stare but you were drawn to him at that moment, and as he talked about how the designs reflect the tangibility yet elusiveness of human connection, you found yourself drowning in his words and in the way he said them. He’d caught you before you could look away, and you decide that the only way to go about it is to pretend it didn’t happen.

And that’s what you do, as you remain on your spot with your eyes scanning the room, no longer focused on him.

The interview ends right as Chin-sun enters to say that some guests have arrived. You instruct her to entertain them first with Manager Lee as you wrap up in here and it’s not long after when you’re left with Jungkook once again.

“Was that good?” He asks, his gaze on you as you look elsewhere.

“It was. You seemed more relaxed,” you state, unnecessarily fixing the couch to distract yourself. “That’s a good way to start the evening, Mr. Jeon. I’m sure the guests would enjoy speaking with you tonight.”

“That’s what I hope,” he replies. “I’ll need you close to me to keep track of scheduled meetings or any invitations. I’d also like them to be familiar with you as my assistant so they know who to reach out to in case I’m not available.”

“Of course, sir,” you say, turning around to face him again, suddenly feeling nervous about the intensity of his look. “I’ll take note of all those.”

He nods then exits the room and you follow. You trail him as he starts to greet the guests one by one.

There are heads of private foundations and curators. There are creative directors from entertainment agencies and some art enthusiasts. There are artists and authors and poets, all of whom are intrigued and seemingly excited about what’s in store.

Jungkook heads to the front after being introduced by Manager Lee and takes his time to introduce the project, utilizing the panels and all of the interiors’ walls to showcase the design virtually. He presents his plans and the role of artists, creatives, creators, and consumers. It’s a half hour speech that ends, followed by a light sit-down dinner that Jungkook takes advantage of to engage with the guests.

He first greets the deputy minister of the arts and culture ministry and then Mr. Saito, who’d likewise brought some of his artist friends from Japan.

You then follow Jungkook around as instructed, taking notes on your phone in between to list all the upcoming meetings and other activities scheduled on the spot. You’ve somehow developed this skill with Hoseok but it still doesn’t get any easier. The fact that so many of them want to touch base with Jungkook after his pitch says a lot about how well he did and how much it resonated with the people he wanted to connect with.

Based on your notes, you can already tell it’s gonna be incredibly busy moving forward, and the thought suddenly makes your head hurt. But you push through, knowing there are more people to meet with, even with Chin-sun and Manager Lee entertaining half of them.

Jungkook takes the stage again to introduce some of the artists whose works will be displayed in the Arts Center, and he gives them time to talk about their pieces and what drew them into the project. The company head who’s been contracted to create the products for the souvenir shop also speaks, and as they share, you feel the excitement heighten. The opening is still a long time from now but things seem so clear and so certain, and you know that was because of Jungkook - because he demands the same level of excellence he practices from others, because he’s committed to his vision and he makes sure to see it through.

More engagement takes place, and your only breather is when Jungkook decides to talk to his father and then Hoseok but after that, you’re back to following him around and running out of calling cards for people to keep and call you in the future.

The last of the remaining guests finally leave at 10PM. You look around and the art pieces are being carefully wrapped for transport. The panels remain but Do-hyun and Yohan will be returning in the morning to pack everything up. Slowly, you start to feel the soreness creep in and the headache intensify but you shake all the pain off. There are two more days left for the week and you just have to power through them to survive.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Chin-sun asks as she readies to leave.

“I live on the other side of the city from you. From all of you,” you remind them. It’s really the only reason why you don’t hitch a ride with them, especially considering that they have families and pets they go home to. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“What about Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, surprising you because you thought he’d been on the phone. “Can’t he drive you?”

“He left an hour ago, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “He has that early morning flight to Jeju tomorrow.”

“Mr. Ri can drive you home after he drops me off,” Jungkook says. “It’s too late in the night and it might be hard for you to get a cab.”

“Okay, sir. Thank you,” you mumble, waving everybody goodbye as you follow him towards the car.

You get inside and find him sitting in the backseat, his coat removed and his head rolled back. You can tell all the socializing drained his energy again, and you’d hate to remind him that there’s a Property Expo next week that his father assigned him to attend, as well as a Partners’ Fellowship Dinner where he has to deliver another speech. You decide to do so in the morning instead and let the soft sounds of the radio soothe your mind.

“I think tonight was a success,” he mutters, prompting you to turn towards him. “Everyone I spoke to seemed excited.”

“They were,” you affirm. “They wouldn’t be scheduling meetings with you if they weren’t.”

“That’s true,” he hums. “That’s one major event down and several more to go.”

“I hope the team was able to show you how well we work together, Mr. Jeon. And that like me, they’re all on your side.”

Jungkook lets your words settle. He agrees. The team was like a well-oiled machine. Each member knew their roles and performed their tasks excellently. And there was you, of course, handling every one of his instructions and requests with grace. You looked really beautiful doing it, too, and he doesn’t know if he wants to thank or curse Taehyung for designing another dress that makes you stand out from the crowd because that’s what happened tonight - everywhere Jungkook looked, it seemed like all he could see was you.

He shakes away the thought, knowing that constantly acknowledging his attraction towards you would just make things harder for him the way that denying it would, and while he doesn’t have a solution for that either, he supposes that not acknowledging it at all would be the best option.

So he focuses on the team instead, and he feels comforted to know that they worked hard because they knew how much tonight mattered to him, as Do-hyun expressed earlier.

“I’m glad they are,” he finally replies. “I… I still don’t think I’m their favorite person but as long as they don’t despise me anymore, then I’m satisfied with that.”

“They don’t,” you counter, although even you’d know that’s a half-lie.

“They do. Or did, at least,” he laughs dryly. “It’s easy to stay unnoticed outside of the team’s office, you know?”

The tinge of sadness in his eyes confirms what you’re thinking - he’s heard some of the team conversations about him. And while you’d argue that they’re not vile or anything close to that, you also know that talking about him not smiling or not expressing his gratitude are things you shouldn’t be saying behind his back. Even if they’re true.

“I”m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon. We–”

“It’s okay, it’s not a big deal,” he interjects. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t given you reasons to feel that way. You all did go from Hoseok to me and that’s quite the downgrade in terms of camaraderie and stuff.”

“We still didn’t have the right to say those things. And no, I’m not agreeing that you’re a downgrade,” you clarify. “Like you said, you and your cousin are very different.”

“I did. And that’s why I’m not surprised, is all I’m saying. But despite all that, the team did amazing tonight. Not like I’d expect they wouldn’t because they prefer someone more joyful or expressive, but it… it was also nice to see them enjoying themselves. I hope you did, too.”

“It was a memorable experience, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “It’s something new. The previous projects and events we handled were either residential or commercial in nature and our creativity wasn’t pushed as far as the Arts Center is doing. And we all appreciate that, even if we may not show it.”

“That’s good. At least there’s still something that you’re all getting out of this.”

There’s a sadness in his voice that you’re hearing for the first time. You don’t know what about tonight that’s making him vulnerable and honest with you. Perhaps it’s all the talk about human connection that he seems to struggle with, and maybe he’s realizing now that even with the team performing as well as they are, there’s still something lacking in soul and emotion that he thinks is because of him.

Whatever it is, you hope that he doesn’t let it bring him down too much. Working closely with him, you’ve come to see more of him despite his efforts to keep those layers unpeeled and you’ve come to understand him a little more. You’ve forgiven him in the process, too. The team is still adjusting and you know it’s your job to bridge that gap. You’ll just have to figure out how.

You let the silence end the conversation, not knowing what else you can say to comfort him at this moment. But you try though, as the car stops in front of his building and you call his name right before he closes the door.

“Yeah?” He asks, looking curiously at you.

You almost forget what you’re about to say as he’s bent forward, his arm propped on the car roof, the surrounding lights highlighting the features of his face.

“You did great tonight, too. And I learned a lot from you. Thank you for guiding us, sir.”

He’s left speechless, as he holds your gaze for a moment before nodding and closing the door. Mr. Ri drives away and you look back to see Jungkook walk slowly towards the building entrance, briefly looking your way before disappearing inside.

You arrive at the office the next morning at 9AM with a splitting headache, your body dragging itself towards your chair as you try to maintain balance and get yourself together. Jungkook had messaged late last night that he was going to have a breakfast meeting with his father so you could go straight to work, and given last night’s late finish, you could come at a later time as well.

That gave you another two hours of sleep, which you were thankful for considering the terrible state you were in when you woke up. Your body felt sore and the dryness of your throat signaled that you’re about to get sick - it was just a matter of when it was going to fully kick in. It’s how your body reacts to stress, a pattern you noticed since you started working in the company. It’s usually after succeeding weeks of late nights and big events when you give in - the headaches start then the sore throat; not long after, the fever hits and you’d have to spend days just doing nothing until you’ve expelled the exhaustion away.

On rare occasions, your mother or friends come, knowing you’d be too sick to make yourself some food. But they don’t always have that luxury. They have their own lives, too, lives that they just happen to have far away from you. But it’s why it mattered that you gave Jungkook that noodle soup when he was unwell. You know what it’s like to be sick and hungry and completely helpless, and you had a feeling that just like yourself, he’d deal with it on his own. You’ll probably have to stock up on food tonight to get you through the next few days; you just hope you haven’t completely fallen apart by then.

You take your medicines and try to focus on your tasks for this morning, scheduling meetings and screening photos from last night to be used for marketing purposes. Needing some tea, you head to the pantry and briefly check in with the team before heading back. You see that Jungkook has just arrived, as he accompanied his father to one of their project sites after their meeting. He calls you over and asks if Do-hyun and Yohan have come back from fixing things at last night’s venue.

“Yes, sir, they just got here,” you reply. “Everything’s been stored properly and Chin-sun’s working on the payments already.”

“Good,” Jungkook responds. “It’s lunchtime though, so you should all grab a meal. There’s a French restaurant that just opened a block from here. I heard it’s got great reviews, so take the team there and have them order anything they want. You can just use your card to pay but it’s under the office’s budget.”

“Okay, sir. Uhm, that sounds great,” you manage to say, excitement filling you because you spent the other night watching review videos of that restaurant on YouTube and immediately told Jimin and Soomin that you’ll be eating there when they visit you the next time. “What about you though? Aren’t you joining us?”

“I… Well…”

“You don’t have any other scheduled meeting other than the one we’ll have as a team at 2:30.”

“I don’t have to go,” he answers. “You all worked hard and deserve to enjoy yourselves and I don’t think that’ll happen if I’m around. We can all debrief during the meeting but lunch is your time to get together and bond as a group.”

“You’re part of that group, too, Mr. Jeon. You are our boss,” you counter.

“Exactly.”

“But Mr. Ju–” you stop, not wanting to draw another comparison, which you said you’ll stop doing.

“I know. Hoseok would join you for lunch or dinner and the team enjoyed his presence,” Jungkook states. “I don’t think that’s the case with me. This isn’t me putting myself down but… you know that I don’t really… do things like that. I’m still learning that part of the role and I don’t want to spoil their fun.”

“You can’t really speak for the team though,” you point out.

“Well, you represent them to me. Am I wrong to assume all that?”

“No, but I think it would be a good opportunity to prove to them otherwise,” you advise.

Jungkook sighs, knowing you’ve got a point. But he insists, claiming that he’s still figuring out the team and how to relate with them.

“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you concede. “How about your lunch?”

“I’ll manage. You can all go ahead so you can get back on time.”

“We will. Thank you. I already know they’re going to enjoy it.”

The team is ecstatic when you tell them about lunch plans. They also only wonder about Jungkook’s presence once they’ve ordered and perhaps they’re still figuring him out, too. Much of their engagement with Jungkook is through meetings, as none of them, save for Manager Lee, feel comfortable or even free enough to just approach him. They also don’t know much about his interests or his quirks, and that puts you in the same boat as them.

You said once that you’re not sure if you’ve gotten used to him already. Maybe slowly you are, as you look around and wish that he was here to experience this, too. Somehow you just think he’d love the duck confit dish that you eventually order for yourself. Maybe you can let him know, and he can order it on his own time.

Lunch ends with everyone on a high from the delicious meal. Even you forget how terrible you’re actually feeling and let the laughs and scrumptious food compensate for the fatigue.

You get back to the office and head to Jungkook as the rest of the team prepares the conference room for the meeting. You see a half-eaten sandwich on his desk and hate to think that it’s all he had while you enjoyed a fancy lunch that he ordered you all to have. He seems to pick up your thoughts as your eyes flit from him to his food and he affirms you that he’s not that hungry, given the heavy breakfast he had this morning.

“How was lunch?” He asks.

“It was great. The food was really good. I had the duck confit that I think you’ll like and… uh, they were asking where you were.”

“They were?”

“Yeah,” you respond. “They were wondering why you didn’t join us.”

“What did you say?”

“That you were on a conference call,” you say. You didn’t like that you had to lie to them about it, but you also didn’t want to use that time to talk about Jungkook behind his back again. “Yohan said that it’s understandable; you’re always busy and he doubts you get a break while you’re here.”

“Oh. Well, he’s not wrong.”

“We had a good time though, and I’m sure they’ll tell you later but thank you. It’s nice seeing the team enjoy themselves. I wish you could see it, too.”

“Maybe one day,” he says sullenly, standing up right after to head to the meeting with you.

The room quiets down when you both arrive and Jungkook feels once more the shift in their disposition once he joins them. He can’t fault them for it knowing that’s because of him, but as time passes and the more he talks about the value of human connections - which the Arts Center aims to foster - the more he starts to think of exactly what he’s missing by keeping himself too far a distance from everyone else around him.

His father tries, he can tell. Most of their breakfast or lunch or dinner meetings aren’t actually meetings, and he supposes it’s just his old man’s way of spending time with him by disguising it as something work-related, knowing that Jungkook wouldn’t be into it if it wasn’t. His mother asks him over to their house on some weekends for lunch, her own way of reconnecting with him after years of being apart, but even with that, Jungkook just gives the bare minimum.

He doesn’t not like them; he just stopped being close to them at some point and he didn’t really care to mend it as he grew older. The women he sleeps with don’t count since he doesn’t even really talk to them, and other than Taehyung and Seokjin, and occasionally Yoongi, who keep up with his attitude, there really isn’t anyone else whom he thinks enjoys his presence enough to want to have him around.

He doesn’t know about you though, but he makes an educated guess and thinks there’s not much of him you’d miss just like anyone, and while the thought stings a bit, it’s one he tries to live with.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee greets and implores the others to do the same. “Thank you again for lunch. It was really delicious and pretty fancy. I wish I’d worn a prettier tie than the one I have right now.”

“Your tie looks fine, Manager Lee,” Jungkook replies.

“Ms. Cho said you were busy, that's why you weren’t there,” Do-hyun boldly says. “Hopefully next time you can join us. I mean, not to assume you’ll treat us again, although that would be nice, but–”

“Do-hyun just wanted to say thank you,” Chin-sun butts in. “And that we understand you have so many things going on, Mr. Jeon, so hopefully, when you have time in the future, you can join us for a meal, too.”

“That, uh, that would be fine, yes,” he mumbles, taking his seat and avoiding looking at everyone except you. “Let’s start the meeting.”

You’re there for over two hours, rehashing the entire process, given that it’s the first event out of many that the team organized. Jungkook is generous in complimenting everyone, including you, and he gives updates on the interest generated and all the artists he’ll be meeting in their respective studios as a result.

The Ministry of Culture minister likewise pledged support, promising a linkage with the international media festival organizers like Jungkook had hoped. You’ve all accomplished so much in so little time, but the rest of the timeline shows that there’s still so much ground to cover. You plan the next steps and then spend half an hour talking about the other small projects that the VP’s office is managing before Jungkook adjourns the meeting and orders you all to head home to get some rest while he stays behind to work some more.

You follow him this time, trying your best to be stable as you take the bus home. You manage to buy some beef bone soup on the way for dinner, and once that’s all finished and you take a long hot shower to hopefully get rid of the stress in your body, you plop down on your bed and fall asleep with no warning at all.

You wake up in the middle of the night, your clogged nose keeping you from breathing. With puffy eyes, you search for your eucalyptus inhaler and take your medicine before going back to bed and hoping that when you wake up, you’ll feel less terrible than you do right now.

But you don’t, as you wake up to your alarm not long after and feel even worse. Your body is sore, your head feels heavy, and it’s a struggle to even turn to your side to try to pull yourself off the bed. Knowing there’s no way you’ll manage today, you call Mr. Ri and inform him that you’re unwell and can’t make it to work.

“I can’t even type nor talk properly right now,” you tell him. “Can you–”

“I’ll tell Jungkook, don’t worry,” he assures you. “And just to remind you, you’re sick, okay? So stay in bed, don’t do chores or anything, and don’t think about work for even a second. You hear me? And update me on how you are.”

“Yes,” you cough out. “Thank you.”

You lie underneath the covers and hope to the heavens that more sleep would make you feel a bit of relief and it does, given that when your phone rings five hours later, you don’t feel like your head is splitting apart.

“Good, you’re awake,” Mr. Ri says on the other end after you greet him. “Can you open your door?”

“Okay, just give me a few minutes. I’m exceptionally slow this morning.”

Mr. Ri laughs but tells you to take your time. You put on a hoodie over your gray sweatpants and briefly wash your face before opening the door.

“Work’s got to you, huh?” He asks worriedly as he stands in front of you. “Is it bad enough to warrant a visit to the hospital? I can drive you there.”

“I’ll manage,” you mumble. “But what are you doing here, Mr. Ri? Mr. Jeon has a meeting in an hour.”

“I know. But he wanted me to give you this.”

The older man initially hands you a large paper bag but decides to just place it on your table given your weak state. He removes the containers of chicken noodle soup, rice porridge, and soybean sprout soup, boxes of soft bread, and a small jar of yuja marmalade for tea.

“What–”

“Your meals for the next few days so you don’t have to worry about preparing them,” Mr. Ri says. “Jungkook wants you to focus on resting. He wants you to take Monday off, too.”

You look at him and suddenly feel like crying. You knew that waking up, you’d be worrying about what to eat, given that you barely have ingredients to work with. You also don’t have the energy to make anything, especially something that’d help with your health. Jungkook just relieved you of that, and at a time like today, you feel what it’s like to be cared for. And though you can argue with him using his own words - your health isn’t his responsibility - you won’t pretend that it doesn’t give you comfort knowing that he’d made the effort to buy all this and have them brought to you.

You talk a little bit more before he heads out, and you lead him to the door where you look across the street where the car is parked. Your eyes may be puffy but you don’t miss the silhouette behind that backseat window.

“How is she?” Jungkook asks as Mr. Ri enters the car and slowly drives away.

“She looks like someone who’s been working hard these past months and in need of rest. She says it’s normal but this is probably the worst. These few days off will be good for her.”

“I hope so, too.”

“She’s thankful for the food, Jungkook,” the older man says. “I know she’d probably say you didn’t have to but I could tell it meant a lot to her. She doesn’t always ask for help, you know? It’s good you’re somehow letting her know that she can count on you when she needs you. If this is you making it up to her, you’re on the right path.”

Jungkook hums in acknowledgement, although unsure what it means for him. Is it to compensate? To apologize again? To return the favor because you’d done it first? Is it to let you know that he has your back, too, the way you’ve been showing him that you have his?

He’s alerted by a message, your name on his screen somehow making his heart jump. It’s a text message and not one from the usual messaging app you both use for work purposes because, well, that’s really the only thing you talk about.

[From: EA Cho] Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it.

It’s the use of his name. It’s the sincerity in your simple words.

He smiles to himself.

Whatever it means to you, he knows it means another thing to him. He doesn’t want you to feel alone. And that in the coldest nooks of his uncaring heart, he actually does care for you. For this moment, he’ll acknowledge it. For this moment, he’ll let himself feel it. He can only hope you feel it, too.

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x oc #jungkook angst #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #boss jungkook

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bunnyhugs77 · 9 months

Text

Daddy Daycare

Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Part: 1, 2, 3

Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.

Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.

"And the kiss. Oh, Vanessa, the kiss was something else!" You exclaim, helping to set up the Christmas decorations around the class.

It was only the day after Thanksgiving which means the Christmas season was now in full swing. Stepping up on the small stepping stool to hang the green tinsel over the whiteboard.

"It sounds like you had a good night. What's the problem then?" Vanessa sets up the miniature Christmas tree in the corner.

"I did. Everything was going so well. Dare I say perfectly, until his phone was going off non stop from someone named Hanna saying things like 'when am I gonna see you again' and 'I can't stop thinking about our night together'"

Vanessa gasps. "So what did Jungkook say?" You chew on our bottom lip, "He was putting Ryan to bed in the other room, so he wasn't there when I saw those messages pop up." She tsks.

"I tried to tell you. Nothing good comes from dealing with a parent." You sighed heavily, looking out the window at the playground that was covered in a thick white blanket of snow.

"I know, but I couldn't help it. Him and his stupid smile and his pretty eyes." Vanessa hums smugly. "I'm sure Hanna thinks the same thing." You groan. She's right.

"You're right, I shouldn't get involved. She could be the mother of his child for all I know."

"For your own sake. You better pray she's not. Ex's are a royal pain in the-"

"Good Morning." Vanessa interrupts her own words as she greets the parents that walked in.

Crouching near the bookshelf while you organized the fallen books, from the corner of your eye you were able to pick up on the entrance of your minor headache. Not Ryan, of course, his father.

Ryan was just a sweetheart who greeted you with a hug so tight that he'd knocked you out of your crouched position onto your bum. "Ryan! Be careful." You'd never heard Jungkook's voice so stern. You make sure the boy is okay and help him back to his feet before moving your hair back to where it should be.

"Sorry, Ms. Hill." He apologizes with those big brown eyes that he clearly gets from his dad. "It's okay, I'm fine." You reassure with a smile and he runs off.

Jungkook offers you his hand to help you up but you stand on your own, dusting off your jeans with a clearing of your throat. "Are you okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I promise. I landed on the carpet."

"That's not what I meant." He says.

Taking a quick glance around the classroom, noticing some parents still making their way in and out of the classroom and the kids making their way to their seats. "You know, now really isn't a good time-" About to move out of his way, he steps in front of you.

Instinctively your eyes rolled, trying to remember what Vanessa told you. Not to get involved. "I know you saw the texts. Let me explain." You shake your head, "It's none of my business, there's nothing to explain. You should get going. I wouldn't want you to be late for work."

With that said, you walk away, heading towards the desks where your students waited patiently for instruction.

Jungkook walked out of the daycare that day deflated and unable to think about anything aside from you, and that look in your eyes. Like you were disappointed, as if you had high hopes for him and he let you down.

He thought he could just move past it, maybe even accept that things wouldn't work out between the two of you, but seeing you everyday, smiling with all the other parents and giving him nothing more than a simple head acknowledgement was killing him.

As much as he wanted to explain himself, he didn't want to force himself into your life. He wanted you to want to hear him out, even if that meant the two of you not talking much or at all for a few weeks then he was going to have to be okay with that.

But there were some days he had to physically restrain himself from breaking the no-contact. He remembers the day vividly. It was the first week back from winter break, maybe he was so pent up because he hadn't been able to see you for two weeks or if it was how good you looked in your leggings.

All he knows is that somewhere between that mix and you squatting to pick something from off the ground, for the briefest of seconds he'd caught sight of the strappy black thong that rose over your hips before they were hidden once again under your bottoms.

No one would've noticed it. No one that wasn't mildly obsessed with you that is. He quickly sent Ryan off and left for work. Managing to somehow squeeze in 13 hours of work into an 8 hour shift, he'd overcompensated as a means to distract himself.

"So you guys just haven't talked since you shooed him?" Vanessa asks for clarification, wrapping her scarf securely around her neck, getting ready to head out after offering you a ride which you couldn't object to, weather conditions were worsening as you were entering the heart of winter in the middle of January.

"I didn't shoo him, but I definitely would've handled things differently if I knew he would start avoiding me. I didn't want things to end like this." You explain, digging your hands deep into your pockets the moment the two of you stepped outside. The chilling air blew in your hair and around your earmuffs with determination.

You strapped yourself in passenger seat, "So you didn't actually want things to end?" With your head laying back on the headrest you puffed out a stressed breath, unintentionally making a small circle of condensation on your window. Like a child you drew a little heart in the middle.

"I thought I did, y'know? Wanted to do what you said and stay away, but maybe I got hasty." She hums oddly, making a ominous "Mhm" sound. "What does that mean?" She pulls out of the parking lot slowly, the snow was really falling tonight, laying on the ground in thick increments.

"Nothing." Turning to face her with your body, "No, no. Say it."

"I've been here. You know I've been here, I've been in a very similar position, but I did somehow manage to get a decent outcome, but things could've gotten much worse, not just for the relationship but for his kid at the time. So, I guess what I'm saying is, take this little break to really think about if this is the kind of thing you want to get yourself involved in."

You nodded, sitting with your hands in your lap like an obedient child. Really taking what Vanessa was saying into deep consideration. Deciding to reflect on it for the rest of the car ride to your building.

"What a day." You sigh, as you drop your keys onto the small counter you kept near the door.

The first thing you noticed was how cold it was inside your apartment, as if trying to compete with the flurrying outdoors. "Why is it so cold in here?" You whisper to yourself.

Flicking on the lights, or at least that's what you wanted. "What the--" the switch flies up then down then up again with the tip of your finger as you restlessly try to turn the lights on. "You've got to be joking."

Wrapping yourself tighter into your jacket as you walk through your dark apartment, relying on the sheer memorization of the layout to get you to the bathroom where you tried turning on the tap. Nothing.

The pipes must've frozen. and the snowstorm blew out your power.

This was great news for you, you'd always loved the movie Frozen and now you get to experience it first hand!!

"You've reached the voicemail box of--"

"Fuck you!" You shout at your phone after 5 hours and the twelfth attempt you'd made at calling your landlord. He's always been an asshole but ignoring his tenants when they were freezing to death is an all new low even for him.

You'd managed to wrap yourself in a blanket burrito surrounded by the 4 candles you were able to light before your hands began to freeze. Your body was barely managing to keep warm until you remembered the small cheap space heater you'd bought from a thrift store a few years back.

But it was buried deep in your closet. However, it took you no time to find it as you dug through the mountains of miscellaneous objects and finally pulled it out from the bottom.

Rushing to plug it in with desperation. Then you remembered. There was no power. As badly as you wanted to scream and toss the heater across your dimly lit room, you didn't. Instead you sat quietly in your burrito and began to cry.

What if this was it?

Tomorrow your students would find out their teacher had frozen to death. Were you being dramatic? You weren't even sure. You're not even sure how they would react, but you're sure the parents would be shocked- and Jungkook.

Jungkook.

"Jungkook!" You gasp. Your freezing hands reaching for your phone, trying to type in his number as fast as you could but your joints felt like they were dead locked in place and moved 1 key per minute.

The phone began to ring, and ring,,,

On the other end of the line, Jungkook was also having a pretty rough night. Laying on his bed with his bare stomach facing the ceiling eyes wide open and his brain a never ending circus.

He tried to focus on his breathing, but he couldn't sleep.

He hasn't been able to get a good sleep for a few months now.

Turning on his side he looked at the picture of him and Ryan at his third birthday party. He was so much smaller then. 'I looked so happy' he thinks to himself with a sad smile on his face.

Beginning to wish that Ryan was with him in that moment but he knew it was for the best that he'd dropped him at his parents' for the weekend. He was beginning to enter one of those episodes and he couldn't stop it, no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how hard he tries to.

Ryan deserved a father who could be happy all the time-- He sits up. Holding his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. Erasing those thoughts- trying to. Slowly letting his vision roam back to his night stand drawer where he kept his pills.

God, was it always going to be like this?

Lifelessly he reached for the handle and pulled it open, his hands blindly reaching for the cylindrical bottle and unscrewing the cap taking the recommended dose before putting it away.

He lays back down with a soft grunt, staring up at the ceiling tumultuously. Resting his hands on his firm core, focusing on the way it rises and falls with every breath, thinking about the day it stops. The day he's no longer sentenced to the time he's currently serving in his own mind-

"I should try to get some sleep" He mumbles to no one in particular.

His eyes shoot open after a mere 3 seconds of being closed. He listens to it ring, ring and ring, not sure he's in the mood to be taking any calls right now.

Though, it may be his parents with an emergency. He finds himself rolling onto his stomach, more than shocked to see your name pop up on his phone.

"Hello?"

"H-Hi! It's me. I'm sorry if I woke you up," Your voice was refreshing, like the first ray of sunshine after a dark and stormy night or the smell of fresh coffee in the morning.

"No, you didn't wake me. What's up?" You weren't sure if you were looking too deep into things but he sounded different. His voice was flatter, none of that familiar bubbly hint to be found in it, then again, It was nearly one in the morning.

"You probably don't remember but you gave me your card, and said if I ever had any technical issues I could give you a call," your teeth were chattering, prompting you to wrap yourself even tighter.

"I remember." How could he forget.

"Yea! Well, my apartment has no power or running water, so its pretty cold over here, and I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks on how to get something to work."

He sits up abruptly. "What?"

"Yeah, my landlord is pretty shitty and hasn't answered my calls, I'm not even sure if maintenance is available or even knows about the situation themselves." You hear some muffling on the other end assuming he'd dropped his phone but it was actually Jungkook rushing to put on a shirt.

"Hello?" you say blankly, wondering if you'd lost connection.

"It's a fucking snowstorm outside. You'll freeze." You laugh, and that stops him in his tracks for a moment, "Oh I know, I'm getting a little taste of that right now actually. Do you by any chance know what the first signs of frostbite are?"

"Send me your address, I'm coming to get you."

"No, Jungkook. I wont let you do that, the roads are terrible." He doesn't respond, or maybe he does, you couldn't hear over the sound of keys jingling.

Clearly it was useless trying to change his mind, and the last thing you'd want is for him to go out of his way for nothing so you sent him your address.

What would usually be 15 minute drive had turned into 40 with the poor weather conditions but it wasn't any more than an hour before you heard knocking on your door.

Still wrapped in your thick blankets you opened it.

"Are you alright? How do you feel?" Jungkook inspects you, taking your hands in his, "You're ice cold." He says, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing his hand warmers in yours. "Keep those, they'll help you warm up." He insists.

"Do you have everything?" You nod while briefly raising your overnight bag. "Okay, let's go."

The drive over was silent, you somehow managed to fit your seatbelt over your jacket and blanket that you couldn't part with. Jungkook periodically looked over to se if you were okay, never actually saying anything but the concern in his eyes was evident with every glance.

The first step inside his place gave you chills, the good kind, finally. Not the ones that left you shaking for warmth. It was so warm, Jungkook took your bag while walking you towards the living room as he turned on the fireplace, suggesting you warm up before doing anything else.

"Here," He hands you a warm mug of hot chamomile with a bit of honey for sweetness. "Thank you, Jungkook. For everything." You say sincerely, afraid you'd be repaying him for all the times he'd saved your ass in this life and the next.

"Don't mention it." Unwilling to accept such a humble response, "No. I'm serious. I disturbed your night, and you dropped everything to help me." He smiles for the first time all night, it was a small one but it was still a smile.

"I told you, already. I wasn't doing anything. I'm actually glad you called, it was nice to get out of my head for a bit." your head tilts unconsciously at that last part. "Nevermind." Checking his watch, it was nearly three in the morning.

"I set up your stuff in my room. It's getting pretty late, you should get some rest." Your eyes were feeling pretty heavy now that he mentioned it, you didn't fight it. Slowly standing from the pile of throw overs you'd buried yourself underneath making your way upstairs.

"Wait." You pause at the first step.

"Where's Ryan?" You should've realized sooner, but what could you say, you were a bit wrapped up earlier. Literally. "He's at his grandparents, probably snoring right now as we speak." You smile.

You'd gotten ready, taking a much needed shower and tying your hair back into two braids so that they would have some soft waves for tomorrow.

You sat cross legged on Jungkook's bed with your MacBook on your lap as you went through some of the classroom picture's you were yet to send to parents from the Winter Wonderland Concert the daycare had put on last week.

"Hey," Your head snaps up to see Jungkook peeking his head through the door, "I just wanted to say Goodnight." He says and you smile, but you'd just come across something you're sure he would love to see.

"Come look at this video of Ryan singing his interpretation of the opera singer we had perform last week." Jungkook sits beside you on the bed with his legs stretched out in front of him.

He paused when he turned to look at you, "What?" Your face is puzzled at his concentrated expression. "I didn't know you wore glasses?" He says and it reminds you that this was the first time he'd seen you with lenses on, or anyone for that matter.

"Yeah, I usually wear contacts-- Look! This is the part," You get distracted as the video begins to play. And somehow one video turns into five and the computer slides off your lap into the gap between the both of you as your head laid against his padded shoulder.

You'd fallen asleep. Slowly Jungkook closes the laptop and places it on the nightstand, even more carefully removing your glasses and placing them on top of the stowed away device.

Letting you down gently until your head hits the pillow, he sneakily begins to slip out of your grasp. "Stay." You say, your eyes closed and body still. Maybe he was hearing things. He shakes it off and begins to step away.

"Please, m'Cold." You mumble into the pillow with your eyes still shut.

"Do you want me to turn up the heat?" He offers like the gentleman he is, for the first time he saw a sign of consciousness as you slightly shake your head. "I want you to stay, please?"

He was nervous. Settling himself under the convers with you, remaining as far as possible and turning off the bedside lamp. Within two minutes his body froze as you'd rolled over from your side until your head was on his chest.

He wonders if you could feel the way his heart was racing.

you could.

"Relax," you quip, half-awake. Oddly enough, that actually does help him to relax, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist for comfort. Feeling your body against his didn't trigger his perversions as he once thought it would.

It felt so much better than that. He felt, comfortable. The way your body radiated a calming heat onto him and reassured him that someone was both physically and emotionally present was just enough to lull him to sleep.

As the night morphed into a radiant sunrise you began to stir in your sleep. Your limbs stretching across the the grey sheets and soft blankets while the tips of your fingers roamed the surface.

Slowly remembering where you were and realizing you were in the bed alone. Though you specifically remember going to sleep with him. When did he get up?

Tugging down the leg of your sweatpants that had rolled up at the ankle at some point during your blissful sleep. Rubbing your eyes as you stepped into the bathroom to brush your teeth before finally following that pleasant scent that was wafting around the house.

"Still avoiding me?" You joke as you laid your eyes on Jungkook's broad back that was facing you as he flipped pancakes. He turns to you with a lopsided smile.

"Avoiding you?" Nodding, letting your hands trace the back of the chair before taking a seat at the island, watching him.

"Yeah, you've been avoiding me since thanksgiving." His brows furrow then raise in a mix of confusion and astonishment. "Me? I have not been avoiding you. I was giving you space."

Bracing your hands down on the countertop you shake your head. "Yes you have. Every day you see me and just leave, not a good morning or anything."

Jungkook flips this battered treat a little harder than he should. "Yeah, because the last time I had tried to talk to you, you made it pretty clear you didn't want to talk, so why would I force it?"

You sigh. Vanessa was right, maybe you did shoo him. "I didn't mean to disregard you so inconsiderately, I was just-- I don't know what I was feeling in that moment, honestly." He turns to face you once again, leaning back on the counter.

"I know, that's why I wanted to explain myself." Your eyes watch his buff chest raise and fall as he takes a deep breath, "My eyes are up here." He points between the two of you, and you felt like you could just fall over and die.

You clear your throat, deciding that you simply couldn't make eye contact with him at all after that!

He notices your embarrassed body language, "Hey, I was just joking, I don't mind your eyes wandering a little." He teases and it somehow made your face even hotter, you were afraid you would burst into flames.

"Just-Just go back to what you were saying." You almost plead as you run a hand through your wavy hair.

Jungkook plates the last pancake on to your elegantly presented plate, before sliding it in front of you. Making a plate for himself he decides to eat standing up in front of you with his plate on the counter you could maintain direct eye contact.

"I met Hana about a year ago at Ryan's old school before we switched here. She's another parent I'd met at one of their events. I was going through a lot of shit back then, so relationships were the furthest thing from my mind but one night about 6 months ago, our kids were away at a summer camp for 2 days; and after a few play dates over the prior months, she'd called me to let me know that Ryan had left one of his toys at her place. So I went to pick it up, but we ended up talking, had a few drinks and one thing led to another and then shit hit the roof." He sighs before taking a bite of his breakfast, which is delicious by the way.

Your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, subconsciously of course but Jungkook took it as an indication to explain. "I made sure it was clear to her it was just a one time thing and she agreed. For the first few weeks I thought we were on the same page, but then she started calling me and leaving these... desperate voicemails. After that I already knew I wouldn't be be bringing Ryan back to that preschool, besides their teachers were terrible." You nod, no longer eating as the story kept you fed and engaged.

"At first I thought she would stop over time, but she didn't. It only got worse, so I finally called her back to let her know she needed to stop but she wanted to have the conversation in person, which sounded reasonable to me at the time, but I should've seen right through it because low and behold, the same mistake was made, once again."

"Wait," You pause him, "So when did you guys hook up the second time?" His eyes look up to the ceiling as though the answer was written on it, "Sometime around the end of August, just a few weeks before school started." The twinge of jealousy that bubbled in your stomach was undeniable but you had no right to be jealous. He literally had no idea you existed at the time.

"And she kept calling your phone all the way until Thanksgiving?" you say with a weird tone, unsure how Jungkook would've let her continue to bother him for so long. Almost with shame he nods,

"I kept saying I would get around to cutting her off once and for all, but I went to a pretty dark place, y'know how life can get sometimes. I didn't care much for anything at all, but when I saw what it had done to us," he gestures between the two of you, "I realized my negligence was driving away people that were important to me, and I didn't want to lose you. So I had ended things with her once and for all shortly after new years. Y'know, wanting to start off the year fresh and shit like that."

You swallow, "I had no idea, you were going through such a hard time." You say almost sadly but maintain the soft smile on your face. A similar one creeping onto his face, "Well then that's good. Means the antidepressants are doing their job." He chuckles and you didn't know whether to laugh along or be concerned.

"It's okay Y/n, you can laugh." You smile, "I-I just don't know what to say. All this time I was thinking I was some kind of home-wrecker or that you were seeing someone else, but to hear you explain what was actually going on makes me feel like such an idiot."

Jungkook scoffs jokingly, "Homewrecker? If Ryan's mother was still in the picture, a 'homewrecker' would be exactly what I would need, and a bullet to the head if I'm being honest." he shakes his head, remembering what he describes as the worst time in his life. Your hand boldly clasps over your mouth stifling a laugh at his dramatic expression.

He laughs, "I'm serious, though." His smile fades, "Those are seven years I can never get back." You flinch at the number, that's almost a decade. Calculations begin to roll around your head autonomously. "So-" You begin to say but he already knew where you were going with this.

"We met at 15, had Ryan at 21 unexpectedly, but no regrets of course, and broke up at 22, thank god." Releasing a calming breath of air as he says that last part, clearly they didn't end on good terms if he feels so at peace every time he mentions her absence.

"But that's enough about me for the day. How's your apartment? Any updates on the power?" You shake your head, digging back into your food, "Hopefully it should be fixed by tonight, I'd hate to over stay my welcome." Jungkook rolls his eyes, "You know I want you here more than anything, and I'm not letting you go back to your place until things are up and running again."

You didn't bother fighting him on it, you knew it would be you fighting a losing battle so you let him have it.

It would be a lie to say that you didn't enjoy your lazy Saturday with Jungkook, the two of you lounged around the house talking the day away. You watched breaking bad and kept saying that you had to stop to do some schedule planning for the kids but you couldn't seem to leave the couch, or his arms. "Just one more episode" becoming a meaningless statement.

He was seriously invested in your stories from your travels in Europe over the summer, expressing how he dreams to visit one day.

Time seemed to have zoomed for the next 3 hours, now bringing you to a dark sky and the crackling fireplace keeping you warm as you played a childish round of truth or drink.

The two of you sat comfortably on the carpet with the game cards stacked neatly on the coffee table which was also responsible for holding your shot glasses.

Your chest was already warm from the consequences of three passed questions while Jungkook only had passed two.

"Your turn," your voice bubbly and excited as you pick up the card for Jungkook, flipping it over to ask him. "What's something you've never told anyone?" He sits there, and you can see he really thinks about it. Glancing back and forth between the shot glass and the card in your hand.

"I'm a millionaire." He says it so casually, with a bit of booze in your brain you begin to die of laughter. "Yeah, me too." You snicker, slwoly beginning to quiet down as you realize he wasn't laughing with you.

"Oh my god, are you being serious?" He shrugs, "I guess so. Remember when I said I was going through a lot of shit a year ago? Well part of that stems from me getting some cryptic ass letter that basically announced the death of some rich guy who claimed to be my biological father and left me his inheritance."

You sit there quietly, "I showed my parents the letter as a gag, expecting to get a good laugh out of it and that turned out to be one of the most depressing conversations I'd ever endured." Jungkook honestly wasn't sure why he was telling you all this, he'd told you things today he never thought he'd share with anyone but there was something that let him feel like he could be open with you.

"So you're telling me, you found out you were adopted and suddenly a millionaire on the same day." A slow nodding of his head was all it took for you to see he clearly wasn't thrilled about it. "I still haven't touched the money, really. Although I did use it to cover my parents' mortgage for the next few years. I don't really know what to do with the rest of it."

A small hum escapes your throat as you ponder, "If you ever feel like it's a burden to you, don't hesitate to just pass it on to me. It'll be hard but I'm sure I could think of something to do with it." His head falls back as his body shakes slightly with his laughter, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Your turn," He says, hands reaching to flip over a card as he reads it out to you. "How many people have you slept with?" He makes a certain face at the card as if he was displeased. "This is a bit invasive, do you want me to pick up another one?" You shrug, "I don't mind answering. It's one."

"Like one this year?" It slips out before he can catch it, and he regrets it, you can tell. "No. Just one person, ever. My ex. I'm not really one to have any sexcapades. I have a rule." You're sure if he had bunny ears, one would flop up in curiosity. "Oh?"

"I never go all the way with someone until at least six months of dating them so I can see that they're all in for the right reasons. hence why only one has made it so far. Everyone else usually thinks they can like persuade me three months in." Suddenly your throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. "Is that a deal breaker for you?" Intently you watched the way he played with the ring hooped in his bottom lip with a serious expression.

"Are you saying we're dating, Y/n?" A teasing smirk spreads across his lips. You look away, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze on your from a mere foot away. "If that's okay with you-" A gentle hand cups your jaw as he turns you to face him, taking your breath away with a sweet kiss. His lips were as soft as you remembered them to be.

You could feel a certain shift in the kiss, turning from gentle and sweet to something a little deeper. It were as though there were magnets between your bodies, you found yourselves impossibly close to the point Jungkook forced himself to pull away from you, only to welcome you to straddle his hips.

"I'm okay with that." he grins before resuming his passionate attack on your lips.

2:04am

Your glasses were on and your hair was up, that was a sign that it was time for you to finally go to sleep yet here you were. Sitting up at the table with a stack of files you'd brought from your place that you needed to go through.

The border around your eyes were tinted red as you strained to stay up and finish, but you weren't even close.

"You're still up?" Jungkook says softly as he comes down in nothing but his black sweatpants. "I could ask you the same thing." Hardly sparing him a glance as you write down numbers onto the papers.

"You know I don't sleep much ever since I got my prescription. I can get 3-4 hours at night if I'm lucky." You frown, finally looking up at him, proud of yourself for not letting your jaw hit the floor as you patrolled him as he went to fill a glass of water from the fridge.

You knew he had a sleeve of tattoos, it was one of the first things you'd noticed about him, but you had no idea his back had its own art as well. The sleeve of tattoos that creeped over the back of his shoulder as it morphed into the most beautiful pair of inked angel wings that spread out across the expanse of his upper back.

You swallowed, shaking away your filthy thoughts. "What's got you up so late?" He leans over you to get a glimpse at the papers. "Regulatory compliances." It was so cute when he was confused. "Basically I have to cross reference the curriculum with our lesson plans and report that everything we're doing is aligned with the boards' outline." It dawns on him in the form of a soft 'ah'.

"When does this have to be done by?"

"Wednesday," It comes out with a rough tone and exhausted groan, you were clearly stressed. "Okay, Y/n, it's only Sunday. How about you put a pin in it and get some rest, hm?" Warm hands are placed on your shoulders and you nearly fall asleep right there but you shake your head, "I'm fine, I can keep going-" You yawn for what must be the 4th time since Jungkook came down.

"Okay, That's it. Come on, we're going to bed." He closes your files and takes your hand, letting you hop out of the chair and follow him up the steps debatably against your will as you're sure you would've given up no longer than 15 minutes later.

The moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light. Jungkook chuckles to himself softly at the thought that you truly tried to argue that you weren't tired.

He slips in beside you, loving the way your body naturally detected him and began to roll over towards him just like you did the night before, slotting yourself into his side. Once again, your warmth and the soft feeling of your heartbeat on his ribcage mixing together, prompting his brain to release enough melatonin until his eyes closed.

"Good news." Is the first thing you say as you walk into the living room at 2pm after your well needed shower. "The power is working again at my place," Jungkook pouts at what he took as bad news, he was not-so-secretly hoping you would be staying a little longer.

"Don't look so sad, you see me literally every day." the dimple in your right cheek making a brief appearance as you smiled, making your way over to him on the couch.

"I know, but I really like having you here." You poke his cheeks that puffed up with his sad expression. "If you want to see me a little longer, then would you be okay with giving me a ride back to my place?"

He scoffs, "It's funny you thought I wasn't going to drop you off in the first place." he leans forward to drop a quick peck to your lips catching you off guard before bouncing up out of his spot, hardly giving you a chance to process.

The two of you making comfortable conversation with small giggles as you begin to put your jackets on, preparing to return you back to your apartment. Tugging your hat on with a firm pull before you picked up your bag and declared that you were ready to go.

Jungkook opened the door, stepping out with you closely behind him. Not sure if your eyes were blinded by the gleaming light that was reflected off the snow or the bright flashes of light emitted from the dozens of paparazzi camped outside the driveway.

Jungkook's name was shouted from various different people as they waved to get his attention as if being outside his front door wasn't alarming enough. Jungkook's face had been covered in disbelief just like yours, but differently he was able to shake it off and maintain his composure.

Taking your hand in a reassuring manner, he continued his path down the steps, whispering to you to keep your head down as you followed behind him. "Is it true that you're the secret son of the late business tycoon Jeon Jaehoon?" The woman holds a microphone to Jungkook, looking for an answer, and she most certainly got one.

"How about you ask me again when I make sure you're all behind bars for trespassing and harassment hm? How does that sound?" The flashes finally stop and some photographers begin to leave, Jungkook doesn't even wait for them all to leave, trusting that he got his point across clearly and makes his way to the drivers seat.

Once the doors closed it was as though you'd trapped in a foot deep layer or tension within it. Jungkook's chest rises slowly, flared nostrils and tensed brows before a slow and agitated exhaled. "It wasn't you right?" He asks.

Your posture straightens as you face him.

"What?"

"Tell me that it's all just a coincidence, Y/n. I tell you about the inheritance last night and suddenly there's paparazzi buzzing outside my house today?" Your head juts back, offended. "Are you implying that I told someone what you told me in confidence last night? Are you being serious right now?"

"I'm paranoid, okay? I'm sorry."

You sigh. As pissed as you wanted to be, you had to see it from his perspective. A swarm of paparazzi showing up less than than 24 hours after he shares the information with the first person outside his family doesn't exactly work in your favour.

"It's fine, I get it. I'd be paranoid too." He starts the car, leaving his now vacated lot behind. "Then who would do this?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

The following day was as hectic as any other day but you loved your job. Working with such big personalities that were bursting out their small bodies.

But you did love the end of the day too, sayin goodbye and mentally preparing for some relaxation when you finally got home. All day you'd be fantasizing about drawing a nice warm bath with eucalyptus and lavender oils.

You thought of it as the perfect way to wind down after a long day. Although seeing Jungkook's face for a few minutes while he picked up Ryan.

"I'm here to pick up my son." You turn around with a smile, to the new and unfamiliar face. She was tall with dark long locks that were curled at the ends, her heels were high and her face was looked like it belonged billboards and magazines.

You were a bit confused, you'd never seen her before, and you're sure you'd remember someone that brought in such a domineering aura the way she did.

"Sure, if you don't mind me asking who you are." You wanted to remain as polite as possible not wanting to offend her.

"I'm Ryan's mother."

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#jungkook smut #jungkook #bts #jungkook fic recs #jungkook ff #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts one shot #btssmuts #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts jung jungkook #fluff #bts romance

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tomriddleslovergirl · 2 months

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Home

Pairing: Platonic!Yandere!Batfamily x Fem!Reader

Includes: yandere behavior, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of neglectful parents

You stare down at your phone. 6:25. Dinner was at 6:30.

Pocketing your phone, you gulp. Your heart beats fast, like when Todd would take you on motorcycle rides. Today was the day you would tell them that you were accepted into the school of your choice. Only problem? It was in New York.

Revealing the news of your scholarship to your parents had been relatively easy, but for some reason, thinking of telling the Wayne’s left a bitter taste on your tongue. Perhaps it was because they were more of a family to you than your actual parents were.

Finally, you knock on the door.

It creaks open to reveal Alfred.

“Ms, dinner is almost ready.”

You converse with Alfred until you reach the dining room. Inside, you find everyone sitting in their seats.

Tim waves you over. “Hey, I saved you a spot.”

He and you have been friends ever since you started attending Gotham Academy, and that’s how you were introduced to the rest of the Wayne’s. The family is usually rather busy, and a Jason and Dick don’t even live in the manor — they are here today, though — so you weren’ exactly the closest with them. But, when you do get to spend time with either Dick, Jason, Damian, Tim, Bruce, and Alfred, you cherished it.

You grin and sit next to Tim on the plush seat, sitting between him and Dick. You fell into easy conversation with everyone as you waited for dinner to be served, and hoped Tim (or anyone else for that matter) didn’t notice how nervous you were.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side today.

“Are you all right?” Bruce asked, gently speaking your name.

“Yeah, you’ve been acting a little strange,” Damian added.

You sigh. “Um, I have big news..?” Could this get any more awkward?

Jason raised a brow. “Well?”

If only the ground would split open underneath your feet and consume you whole. You scratch the back of your neck. “I got accepted into uni. In, uh, New York.”

Dick clapped you on the back. “That’s great news. We’re really proud of you, y/n.”

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, “getting into university is no easy feat.”

You felt a warmth blossom in your stomach. This is the reaction you wished your parents would have shown you.

“So, what are you going to do there?” Damian asked.

As dinner was served, you spoke of how your boyfriend also got accepted into the same university, so you both will be renting an apartment together, between bites of food.

And speaking of said boyfriend, your phone buzzes with a call from him. You give everyone a sheepish smile and a small ‘excuse me’ before walking out and standing outside of the dining room.

As you spoke to your boyfriend, you felt yourself growing dizzy and weary of your surroundings.

“Hey, I’ll call you ba-back later,” you tell him.

“Are you alr–” before he can finish his sentence, you already cut off the call.

On unsteady feet, you walk back into the large dining room.

You’ll have to go back home earlier than expected. The thought would have left a bitter taste in your mouth if it weren’t for the fact that it was hard to think.

“I’m not fee–” your words are cut off as you fall back. You would've fallen onto the ground if it weren’t for someone catching you, your back hitting their chest.

Tim sighed as he watched Dick wrap his arms around your waist to steadily keep hold of you.

It would have been if you had gone to the university in Gotham, but when he found out that you planned to go to New York? Well, he didn’t feel like letting go of you so easily, and everyone else agreed once he told them of your future departure.

If only you chose to stay in Gotham…

a/n: this is probably going to be the last dc fic I write in a while.

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noyzinerd · 24 days

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Sterek Rival Lawyers AU

It's A (Court) Date

Imagine, high-class, Ivy League, hot-shot, attorney Derek comes back from New York to the family firm to take over as partners with his sister after his parents decide to step down. He may not be on the level of his mother yet, but he's cut his teeth against Wall Street wolves and ruthless white-collar sharks. Derek's more than proved himself, so he just can't fathom these small criminal court cases his family is making him take "before he's truly ready" to be a part of the family business.

Enter in his first case. Right out the gate, the state assigned defense is, not only late to court, but also arrives in a flurry of limbs and papers, tripping all over himself, and profusely apologizing to the room as a whole. "Sorry! Sorry! Car trouble!"

The guy is out of breath, tie crooked and hair a mess. It makes Derek wrinkle his nose at the unprofessionalism and the blatant disrespect to everyone's valuable time.

The presiding judge, the Honorable Ms. Lydia Martin, only sighs a heavy sigh, as if this sight is nothing new, and says "Mr. Stilinski, I suggest you don't let it happen again."

Derek is honestly getting annoyed by how easy this is going to be. He could've been doing literally anything else right about now rather than being here going against a common rent-a-lawyer with some Podunk community-college degree. The opening statement for the defense is laughably inept. Full of nervous stuttering, backtracking, running tangents, and babbling. He's still apologizing, trying to assure the jury that he's just having an off-day today.

It's embarrassing to watch.

Nonetheless, Derek goes through the motions, practiced and poised. Examines all the evidence, presenting times and dates, prior arrest records, the works.

During this time, Mr. Stilinski is frantically (and VERY LOUDLY) flitting through a cartoonishly large stack of papers and whispering to his client. Derek has to fight to grit his teeth through his presentation.

Finally, it's time for Mr. Stilinski to cross-examine Derek's client and, unbeknownst to him, the beginning of Derek's long, long spiral of madness for the rest of his career.

"Judge Martin, I would like to move to have this case thrown out."

"Oh?" asks Judge Martin. For some reason, there's an amused smirk, almost fond, tugging at her lips "On what grounds?"

A giddy, almost manic, grin takes over the defense attorney's face just then. "On the grounds that the prosecution's client is full of bullshit."

The judge rolls her eyes and an exasperated "Stiles," slips from her lips, seemingly against her will. (Derek's not really surprised by the familiarity between the two of them. With how often state-assigned lawyers are called to the courtroom on small cases, it wouldn't be too big of a leap to suggest they might be chummy.)

"Respectfully, of course." Mr. Stilinski--er Stiles?--winks back at her.

"Objection. Your honor, this is ridiculous."

"Overruled. Make your point, Stilinski."

"Mr. Davis says he saw my client at 12:30 P.M., on August 4th, attempting to take his back-right hubcap outside his apartment. Mr. Davis' apartment complex at that time, on that particular day, would have cast a huge shadow over the back lot as evidenced by the gaudy sundial-art-installation outside the courthouse. Meanwhile, my client's picture, when taken in for questioning, has a sunburn on the entire right side of his face. This would corroborate Mr. Lyle's story of walking home alone, down the upper, unshaded side of Elmore Street, during one of the hottest days of the year, for an hour straight. Also, the fact that Mr. Davis has no realistic idea how long it would actually take a person to steal a hubcap should be evidence enough."

"Uh-huh. And this wouldn't happen to be something you've ever had any expertise in, would it, counsel?"

"I plead the 5th."

And just like that, Derek's case is thrown out so quick, he's still reeling about it all the way home.

For the next two years, this becomes Derek's life. This man, this Stiles Stilinski, keeps showing up like a whirlwind and absolutely puts him in his paces.

Stiles, as he insists Derek call him, is a powerhouse. Relentless and unstoppable. That mouth can filibuster for literal hours (which, for those unfamiliar, is when someone legally cannot be forced to give up their time on the floor as long as they can keep talking), that brain quick as a whip, with a hunger for research, a mastery of the English language svelte enough to trip up even the most well-rehearsed lie, and an attention to detail like nothing Derek has ever witnessed before. It's like he knows every law inside and out. Lives it. Breathes it. It's like he had been raised on the law his whole life. Not only that, it's like Stiles enjoys it. Every case is a new game to get excited about.

All of it makes Derek's blood boil.

However, it's not always about losing to Stiles all the time, because, honestly, that might be less humiliating.

In truth, when faced against Stiles, Derek's bound to win about 60% of the time. Out of that 60%, only 5% of those wins actually feel earned. As for the other 55%?

He knows Stiles is letting him win.

Derek can't prove it, but he knows the asshole is holding back on purpose nearly half the time. Knowing that Stiles could have beaten him if he wanted to, but didn't, is somehow more frustrating than just losing.

He hates Stiles.

He hates that the guy is so chipper and playful all the damn time. He hates that Stiles could probably work at any firm he wanted, could make enough money to get a decent car that doesn't shit out all the time, could buy a proper-fitting suit, but instead CHOOSES to stay here "watching out for the little guy", as he so put it.

He hates that facing Stiles in court is the most challenged, the most motivated he's ever felt in his entire life. He hates that Stiles brings out in him the spark of passion and drive Derek had long thought had died. He hates that Stiles always tries to banter with him during recess or whenever they have to exchange evidence.

He hates finding out that Stiles only loses cases on purpose when his endless amounts of research points to the defendant actually being guilty of horrendous crimes, because Stiles is a good fucking person.

He hates Stiles' constant teasing and he hates that Stiles is somehow able to bring Derek down to his childish level to tease back. He hates how much he looks forward to court-dates with Stiles now. He hates being invited out by Stiles over and over to grab a bite together after a long day, as if Stiles hasn't been wiping the floor with him on this case for the last month. He hates it even more that he always accepts and that now they have their own designated booth at the diner across the street. Derek's so unbelievably frustrated, it makes him want to bite Stiles at the neck just to hear that smartass mouth squeal.

"Hey, I ever tell you I was thinking of quitting before you arrived?" Stiles asks one night as they're walking to their cars.

Derek's head immediately snaps to him at that. "What?"

Stiles smiles distantly at the thought. "Oh, yeah. Things had started feeling like being trapped in a cubicle, y'know? There wasn't any challenge in it anymore."

"What made you stay?"

"Well...you did. You were the first, serious competition I'd faced in a while. It wasn't a matter of winning just to win, anymore. Going against you always reminded me of the reason why it was important for me to win. It gave me stakes, because now there was an actual chance I could lose and an innocent person could go to jail. You, I don't know, kinda reignited my passion for fighting the good fight, I guess."

Derek can feel his heart thumping hard in his chest. He wants to say 'You did the same for me!' He wants to tell Stiles that he didn't think his life could ever be this fun or happy or messy or chaotic or exhilarating or challenging or fulfilling before coming to Beacon Hills.

But just as Derek goes to open his mouth to sing Stiles' praises, he instead finds himself roughly shoving him up against the Camaro and biting hungrily at that mouth and tongue that's been the bane of his existence. There's a surprised little squeak that Derek quickly swallows up, but it isn't long before they're both tearing at each others' clothes and fucking each other dirty in the backseat of Derek's car.

What's crazy is, after they get together, nothing in their careers really changes. The only difference is now they get to fuck each others' brains out after an intense battle in court (and the sound Stiles makes when Derek bites him is exactly what he always imagined it would sound like). They still face against each other on opposite sides in court. They still give it everything they got, no conceding even if they are dating now. Not to mention, Derek wouldn't dream of tempting Stiles over to his firm. Not when he knows Stiles is at his best staying where he's at.

The day Derek's family finally decides it's time for him to take over the firm with Laura is the best day of his and Stiles' lives.

Not only does Derek tell them he's declining, he hires Stiles as his attorney to negotiate terms against his entire family of well-seasoned lawyers.

The entire month-long negotiation results in Derek, not saying a single word, but absolutely beaming as he watches his boyfriend run circles around his mother, his father, his uncle, and both of his sisters on contracts. It's so unbelievably hot, they're banging on whatever flat surface they can get their hands on every time they leave the boardroom. There's even one very memorable blowjob in the empty hall outside the boardroom when Stiles somehow manages to get Peter to agree to a (most likely illegal) clause dictating the firm will pay Stiles a finder's fee for any pro-bono case Stiles takes on outside of Beacon Hills that strikes his fancy.

And, no one says it, but they all know Derek definitely, 100%, dragged his own firm through this negotiation just to show off how incredible Stiles is to his family and preen about it.

Fast-forward, Derek is going to be in the audience for the first time for one of Stiles' cases.

While waiting in the hall, Derek sees a familiar face from his New York days. The prosecution has hired the eighth best lawyer money can get, Jackson Whittemore. He's sporting a Rolex, sunglasses indoors, and the face of someone who thinks he's above literally every other person in town.

Well, at least until he sees Derek.

For some reason, Jackson seems to think Derek is all the way out in the middle of nowhere to 'watch a master at work' (which...well...is technically true...).

As Derek goes to sit in the audience, Jackson tells him in passing, "This'll be over so fast, probably won't even get a chance to learn the other guy's name."

Derek chuckles and says back, "Ooh, buddy, you have no idea."

Before Jackson can think more on that, a whirlwind of limbs and papers suddenly hurls through the doors.

Derek sits back, gets comfy, and waits eagerly for the show to begin.

My first moodboard. Hope you enjoy. AU based on a discussion with @casually-eat-my-soul (I suggest checking out their version). This was kind of like a divergence from that (the brain juices just started flowing).

#sterek #lawyer au #Derek might have a competency kink #Stiles' contract states the firm will pay his salary without influencing his decisions as a shadow employee and his clients pay nothing #He's also allowed to travel anywhere he wants for a case on company dime #Unbeknownst to Derek most of the Hales had at one point in time all faced off against Stiles in court before #The only reason Derek was called back from New York in the first place was because they consider a 'Stiles Case' a rite of passage #“Getting Stiles'd” is something all Hales must go through to be humbled #The Hales call Stiles The Reaper in private behind closed doors #No one thought Derek would end up marrying the Boogeyman the insatiable nightmare creature that haunts the Hale name #And now they have to live with this court goblin as their new inlaw #For those who don't know pleading the 5th is enacting your right to not reveal information that could get you in trouble with the law #meaning Stiles has definitely stolen a hubcap off a car before which may or may not have been a police cruiser #Also pro-bono means a lawyer choosing to represent a client free of charge as a form of charity #They absolutely fucked nasty after Derek got to witness Stiles smear Jackson's smug career across the pavement #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #tyler hoechlin #dylan o'brien #mieczysław stiles stilinski #minific

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primofate · 2 months

Text

A Shot in The Dark (Chapter 1) Wriothesley x fem!reader

Summary: As the upcoming Weapons Master of the town, you've started to take more responsibilities in your father's shop. Little did you know that taking up this job would cause you to get thrown into the messy world of criminals and the messy world of confusing feelings for the Duke of Meropide.

Warnings: Slow burn, this is gunna be long. Like Ruthless Prince long, maybe. Nothing much happens. This is the first chapter after all. Excuse any mistakes, I am a busy mother.

Author's Notes: Tell me what you think?

Read other parts: Coming Soon

In the shop, a quiet tick-tock rang around as you stood behind the counter, drumming your fingers against the table, watching as the short hand of the wooden clock slowly inches towards the number 7.

You take a deep breath through your nose, squaring your shoulders up, holding the air in your chest for a second before puffing everything out in one go.

It was your first time alone in the shop, and while your father didn’t have a lot of customers these days, you heard that he was quite the sought-after weapons master back in the old times.

A small chime takes you out of your reverie. That was your cue that the day had to start, going around the counter with a slight hum, opening the door to the outside and flipping the store sign “Open”.

You took a moment to look around the small street of Vasari Passage. From where you stood at the shop’s entrance, you had a good view of the swirling fountain in the middle of the Court of Fontaine. There are a few other shops lining the street: the snack shop, the fruit stand, up a set of stairs was the House of Hearth and further down the street was Café Lutece.

It was a nice location, close to the entrance to the city and walking distance to food if you were too busy or too lazy to cook for yourself that day. The shop was on the ground floor, but your father and you resided above the shop, one floor up.

The apartment was rather modest. A two bedroom with wooden floors that now sort of groaned when you stepped on certain places. A dining room that also served as a living room, a 4-seater table in the middle with a fireplace off to the side. A kitchen, where your mother used to spend all her time, cooking up something wonderful for the family. And lastly, one bathroom that was strangely quite spacious with a bath and built in shower.

You pull the shop door open once again, a small ring from the tiny bell hanging above reverberating in your ears. You had only taken a few steps forward, barely even reaching the counter when the tiny bell rang again, followed by the closing sound of the door.

“Welcome to Hammer and Hand, how can I—” you twist around just as you reach the counter and there stood a very, very familiar face. “Oh, Ms. Clorinde,”

No, you had never spoken to her before. Nor were you in any way acquainted. But she was someone that everyone knew and as soon as her name left your lips you felt nervousness crash into you, as if a wave of Primordial Sea water was trying to pull you under its depths.

Clorinde regarded the shop briefly. Looking up at the shelves on the left and right. Surveying the carpet on the floor. Eyes glancing at the several chairs littered around for waiting customers. Then, she looked at you. “…I heard that there might be someone who could take a look at my pistol,” she wasn’t asking a question and she sounded as if she might be in a hurry.

“That would be me,” you sighed out with a forced smile, hands fumbling under the counter to take out a sleek, velvet-lined, black box for the Champion Duelist to rest her weapon in.

A quick click-clack of her heels, Clorinde placing the pistolet into the box and you, hovering your hands above it. “May I?”

Clorinde made a quick sound of approval, and your hands gently took the weapon, now examining it for what might be wrong.

Clorinde peered at you through her hat, just a quick look.

Truth be told, she wasn’t the kind to judge others by appearance…but you looked very, very young to be a weapons master. After a moment of silence, just the little clinks and ticks of your hands tapping on the pistol, Clorinde decided to speak up. “…I was told the shop owner was a man,” She kept her eyes on you to gauge for a reaction, perhaps wary that she might have offended you.

On the contrary, you were unphased, and didn’t take your eyes off her pistol. “My father,” you curtly answered, eyes narrowing at the frame of the gun. “He’s off on vacation at the moment…He hasn’t been on one in a while so I’m stepping in for him for a bit,”

Clorinde made a sound of understanding. That made more sense. “…Everyone needs a vacation,” she said in a different tone to what she used earlier, almost as if she was striking up a casual conversation.

This caught your attention the slightest bit, eyes involuntarily dragging up, meeting hers, then awkwardly breaking the gaze in a split second, going back to the weapon.

“There seems to be a problem with the firing pin, Ms. Clorinde,” you lay the pistol back on the velvet box, then take out a number of small trinkets and tools that would help you open the weapon.

You didn’t talk as you worked, Clorinde was mostly impressed by how much you knew of a weapon you just met, and how your hands were almost as steady as hers when she took aim.

“…You use this often?” She hears you ask and she takes a moment to reply.

“…You could say that,” again, she replies in a short manner.

You let out a little hum in thought. In the next 5 minutes you spend some time taking out different types of firing pins. You explain what each one does. One valued speed. One was a chunkier, sturdier type. One was absorbent of elemental energy, so on so forth. Clorinde explained what she usually used the pistol for, and what attribute she valued over others.

With that, the firing pin was easily replaced and the pistol felt as good as new in her hands.

“My sincere thanks,” Clorinde nods her head, and for the first time that morning sent a small yet satisfied smile your way.

“My pleasure, Ms. Clorinde, do come back if there’s anything else wrong with it, or if it doesn’t feel right in your hands,” you keep your back straight and tense until the Champion Duelist walks out and the door creaks closed. You puff out another sigh of relief, shoulders slumping and yourself crumpling on the counter.

“Of course my first customer has to be a celebrity!” You freak out on your own, cheek pressed against the table and trying to replay the whole interaction in your mind. If you had said anything weird or awkward, if you had stumbled over your words at all—a little CLINK had you scrambling straight up and smiling at the door yet again. “Welcome to—”

“I just came back to warn you,” Clorinde was only halfway into your shop. She paused for a moment, wondering if she should have said anything at all. “You might get a few more…odd customers in the next few days,”

She didn’t explain herself, and you were thoroughly confused. What exactly was her definition of “odd”? The Duelist had already left before you could say anything, not that you could think of anything to say anyway.

The rest of the day had actually been quite slow, despite Clorinde’s warning. A few gardes came by, an aspiring duelist, a collector…Nothing as surprising as your very first customer of the day.

From 7 in the morning it had turned into 7 in the evening. The short hand of the clock started yet again inching closer to the number 7…it was then, yet again, that the door rattled open and in came a rather grand looking young man, different from all the other customers of the day.

Wriothesley had a greeting at the tip of his tongue. “Hey old man,” or something of the sort. Except, he didn’t see an old man at the counter. “Uhh…” he started, looking around the place as if he was lost.

Something about this man seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place your finger on it.

“If you’re looking for my father, he’s on vacation at the moment,” You help him out, knowing that he probably wasn’t expecting to see you manning the shop. Your eyes dropped to the gauntlets tucked under his arm. “Were you wanting to get those looked at?” Head jerking forward to signal towards his gauntlets.

Wriothesley stood like a deer in headlights in the middle of your shop, now looking more surprised than ever. His eyes narrowed and his hand came up halfway to point at you shyly “You’re Y/N?”

You were taken aback, eyes evidently widening. “…Yes…? Do I…know you?” It was your turn to squint your eyes at him. His black hair was a little unruly, his build was of a seasoned fighter’s. The coat draped on his back gave him a sense of importance, and the way he carried himself screamed of confidence.

No. No lightbulbs came up to give you a clue.

You could only smile sheepishly when he didn’t offer an answer and you had to speak up in the silence. “I’m sorry, I don’t really recall where we met,”

It was only then did he chuckle and finally stepped forward to meet you at the counter, placing his gauntlets atop it. “I don’t blame you. Anyway,” he brushed away the subject quickly and proceeded to tell you that his gauntlets had been feeling a little “clunky”.

You, in all your consciousness, felt horrible that you didn’t recognize someone who seemingly knew who you were. The man, however, seemed like he didn’t want to breach the subject anymore.

“Hmm…?” You bring your hand up to your chin as he finishes complaining about his gauntlets. You scour over them with your eyes and notice a few marks on the glossy finish of it. “This looks like…it’s been damaged,” you rub a finger over the area you’re talking about. “…by…a pistol…” An image of Clorinde passes through your head. "...Are you…a criminal?” You look up to your current customer, a mix of worry and intrigue etched on your face.

Wriothesley blinks, and suddenly bursts into short laughter. “Me? Not recently no,” he answers with a chuckle on his lips.

Then why would Ms. Clorinde shoot at you? Was your first thought. He cuts through your thinking quite fast.

“You can tell this is a pistol mark?” Wriothesley didn’t hide that he was impressed.

“Specifically Ms. Clorinde’s…” You take your hand away from his gauntlet, now wary of your visitor. “Why would she shoot at you?”

“You can even tell it’s Clorinde’s?” He barked out another set of laughter, running his hand through his hair in the process.

“Well…She came by this morning and I had a good look at her pistol, so…” You didn’t elaborate that Clorinde’s pistol was a special kind, it was easy to tell that the marks left on his gauntlets was definitely from her pistol.

“Oh did she?” He seemed to be a very chipper guy. Everything you said, he was somewhat amused by it. It was then that he dismissively waved a hand. “It’s alright, we were just…sparring. I’m the one who told her to come ‘round to your old man’s shop. We went at it too hard and…well, more customers for you,”

“Uh huh…” you start, still unsure. “Well, in any case, I’d like to have your name, please? It’s just good manners to know your customer’s name,” You smile a bit, and quickly add under a whisper “or in this case, my potential killer's,”

Wriothesley hears you, another chuckle emanating from his chest. “It’s Wriothesley,”

Something clicks in your mind. A very, very far off memory.

“…Oh!” One of your hand involuntarily shoots up to your mouth, at the same time your eyes widen, you stare at him “Wriothesley!?” You look him over, up and down, then back to his face. “You…You grew up a lot!”

“So did you!” He has a sincere smile on his face, arms crossing and looking rather proud.

“Oh, oh my Archons,” your hands fumble to find each other and you gather yourself once again, straightening up “I didn’t realize it was you, I’m so sorry. Oh and you’re the Duke now, right? I’m SO sorry, I didn’t mean to call you a criminal—or a killer!” Your words start to skim over each other in your embarrassment and desperation to explain yourself.

Wriothesley gives somewhat of an awkward and guarded smile, if only you knew, “It’s not a problem, just…call me Wriothesley,”

“Right... Right! Erm…” You focus your attention back to his gauntlets. “So these are, uh…just needs a bit of polishing and erm…” You’re still trying to gather your racing thoughts. There were bits and pieces of memories coming back to you that were connected to him. Most of them were from your father, and you quickly recalled that you’d met the Duke as a teenager, just a few odd times, really not a lot. “I have a suspicion as to why you think it’s getting clunky…”

You reach under the table again to look for a tape measure, “Do you mind if I measure your hands?” somehow getting most of your brain and thinking back, you ask him to extend one of his arms out and he complies rather easily.

As usual, you quietly work. Taking various measurements of his wrist, fingers, arm length and the sort.

“…You’ve gotten really good at this,” he remarks, just to fill in the silence. You maintain your concentration and mumble back absentmindedly.

“Mmhmm…Well, I did study this in school…and my father has taught me a lot,”

Wriothesley had wanted to comment that yours was still an extraordinary skill. He didn’t think that you’d be so good at assessing weapons and finding solutions for it, he dare thought that you were getting even better than your old man, but he kept quiet, seeing your concentration.

“As I thought,” you breathe out, rolling the tape measure back into a circle. “Your gauntlets are a tad bit small on you now…you’ve probably gained a bit of muscle, or something,”

“Oh,” was all he could let out, not expecting the answer to be so simple.

“I can resize it…but…” you glance at the clock. 7:32 pm. Way past closing time. “…You can leave it with me and pick it up tomorrow or…come back with it tomorrow? I imagine you might not want to part with it, even just for a night,” You don’t know what the duties of a Duke are, but if he was in charge of Meropide… you guessed that the one thing he really needed with him was his weapon. “I mean, it still fits you, it’s just… not in optimal shape.”

“I understand,” he moves to take the gauntlets back with him, but gives you an appreciative nod. “I’ll come back tomorrow morning then,”

“Okay,” you whisper, holding his gaze, the edges of your mouth turning up the slightest bit. “See you tomorrow then,”

Wriothesley keeps your gaze for only a few moments longer before he gathered his weapon and tucked it under his arm again. He then returns your smile, briefly. He steps away to turn, his coat swaying with him. “See ya,” he throws a hand back as a goodbye and as he exits the store, it is suddenly quiet.

You stand there for a moment to replay the interaction. The quiet helps you organize your thoughts. You can’t help but think that he had grown up to be a good man, and there was no denying that he was good looking—anyone with eyes could see that—you hum a bit, and keep the thoughts to yourself.

You close the shop up, feeling rather good of how the unexpected events of the day unfolded, and went to sleep easily.

Chapter 1: End

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#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact fluff #wriothesley angst #wriothesley fanfiction #wriothesley series #a shot in the dark #wriothesley romance #wriothesley genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin

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roses-for-rosalyn · 1 year

Text

Ms. Anderson

Abby x reader

This one is an unhinged fantasy I have had for so fucking long dude. I literally had to finish this up while I was at a beach house with my family which is the most unhinged thing I’ve ever done.

Summary: Ms. Anderson hires you as a maid, but she has some particularly odd requests.

Word count: 5k of pure filth

Content warnings: maid reader, business lady Abby, Abby is also kind of a pervert hehe, teasing, use of tie as a restraint 🤭, thigh riding, clear consent 🫡, vibrator use, edging, overstimulation, Abby is referred to as Miss or Ms. Anderson most of the time, fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), aftercare yay, let me know if I missed anything

Minors dni (will not hesitate to hunt you down 🥰)

Working for Ms. Anderson was a… unique experience. You’d been a maid for a couple years, you worked hard to make your way up to work in upper class houses. Better conditions meant not having to deal with cleaning up what were basically crime scenes for lower than minimum wage. There’s not much you wouldn’t do to keep your place in these houses. So when Ms. Anderson hired you, you agreed to some extremely odd requests. She offered to pay double what most clients would if you agreed to wear a maid costume. Yeah like the black collared dress and frilly white apron. You would normally just wear a button down and jeans, professional, but comfortable. Of course you agreed money was money and when it came down to it she wasn’t asking for a whole lot. Like, yes in theory the suggestion could come off as creepy, but for the amount she was paying it didn’t bother you nearly as much as it should. She lived alone too, you assumed she mostly paid for the company, the house was rarely that dirty when you came to visit.

The first day you showed up to work in the uniform you felt ridiculous. Ms. Anderson opened the door revealing you in the black collared dress, white frilly apron, sheer black tights and to top it all off a pair of black heels. She barely maintained a neutral expression while looking you up and down, slowly dragging her eyes over your whole body. She nodded and simply said “Good.” before gesturing you to come inside. You pinned the odd reaction down to nerves.

If you were being honest with yourself, you would try to be in the same room with her whenever she was home. You liked looking at her too. Every day she wore a white button down and pleated pants. Her muscular arms strained against the white fabric and the first time you saw her dressed like that you drooled a little. You could tell when she had important meetings because she would add a tie and blazer to her outfit. Those days you had a hard time keeping your eyes off of her. Occasionally you would stare too long, daydreaming about Ms. Anderson using her strength to do whatever she wanted to you. In the morning she would scroll through the news on her phone while drinking her coffee, occasionally looking up and observing you, you could feel her eyes on you even while you faced away from her. When she hired you for evenings she would watch T.V. in the living room. She would let her eyes wander to you, watching you dust and fluff pillows. She loved watching you move in the uniform, when you bent over to fluff the pillows she could catch a glimpse of under your skirt. She knew you only wore a black thong under those tights, she liked to think it was just for her. Her mind would wander, imagining bending you over the couch, ripping a hole in those sheer tights and fucking you senseless.

Most of the time though she would be at work while you were cleaning, so you would rarely have conversations with her, especially in the mornings, she would always be in a rush. In the evenings though, you were usually able to make small talk. You would ask about her day and her job, sometimes you would get lucky and even make her laugh. Abby normally wasn’t super talkative, but she enjoyed her little conversations with you. She would always try and compliment you when talking to you. She thought was walking a fine line between creepy and sweet, but she had no idea that her little comments had you melting on the inside.

After about a month Ms. Anderson would strike up a conversation with you every time you walked in the door. She had a crush on you from the start, but now? She was obsessed. You had grown pretty fond of her too. You always looked forward to working for her, you started spending a little extra time on your makeup, ironing your uniform and putting on perfume. You felt a little crazy for having a crush on, essentially, your boss. She was probably like 10 years older than you, maybe more, but her accomplishments and intelligence on top of her muscular build had you swooning.

Today Abby finally wracked up the courage to ask you to stay for dinner. She had thought about it for weeks, what finally convinced her was that last week you had adjusted her tie before she walked out the door. It was the closest she had ever gotten to you. She towered over you while she watched your small hands adjust the tie, your warm skin brushing up against the button down. There was something so domestic about it that Abby didn’t realize she yearned for. You noticed her breathing hitch a bit when you reached for her, her breathing picking up a little. You realized you made her nervous, and you never thought you would feel so powerful over someone as strong as Ms. Anderson.

As you were grabbing your things to leave you hear Ms. Anderson call out, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

It was the last possible thing you expected her to say, but you turned to her and responded all too eagerly, “Yeah why not? I have nothing going on tonight.” Abby smiles and gestures for you to follow her into the kitchen. You observe she’s still in her work attire minus the blazer, leaving her in a button down with a loosened tie and slacks. A couple of her top buttons were unfastened and her tie was hanging carelessly around her neck. Her blonde hair was out of her usual ponytail, her wavy hair reaching just past her shoulders. Seeing her in this more lax state was unusual, but it only made her more attractive. She pulls out a chair for you to sit down at the kitchen island and you look at her with a mild surprise on your face. You weren’t used to her serving you. Of course you had no idea the things Abby would do to serve you, she thought about it every night. You sit down slowly and watch as she pulls out various ingredients from her fridge and pantry. Watching her cook alone in the large kitchen made you wonder how she ended up living in such a large house alone. You had never seen anyone come over, not a boyfriend, husband, friends or even family. At first glance she didn’t seem that lonely, but she clearly hires you mostly for the company. You watch as she rolls up her sleeves and cooks various items on the stove with surprising efficiency. You wouldn’t take her for the type to know how to cook, but she moves so naturally in the kitchen, she’s comfortable here. Ms. Anderson was clearly lost in her cooking because she didn’t even try to make small talk, she just hums and occasionally makes little squeaks when she forgets to add something or makes a mistake. With her sleeves now rolled up you could see Ms. Andersons forearms on full display, veins snaking up her arms becoming more pronounced as she moves. The combination of her vigorous cooking and her disheveled clothing made an embarrassing ache begin to grow between your legs, you rub your thighs together trying to soothe it, but it just gets worse the longer you watch. Eventually you figure out she was cooking pasta with a homemade red sauce. The smell of basil and garlic began wafting through the kitchen causing you to salivate. She quickly assembles the meal and finally turns to face you, two plates and utensils in hand. She has a proud grin on her face as she places the plate in front of you. You smile “Thank you.”

Abby’s smile grows wider. “My pleasure.”

It looks so beautiful for what it is, she shaved fresh parmesan on top and added a basil leaf for garnish. “Were you a cook or something at one point? Because this is impressive Ms. Anderson.”

Abby huffs out a laugh “No, no. My dad just used to cook a lot for me when I was a kid. Learned all this fancy stuff from him.” You nod and grab your fork to dig in. You take a bite and let out a little moan of delight. You hadn’t eaten much today and this was fucking delectable.

“This is delicious.” You say between bites. Abby just nods in response, mouth still full.

You both practically inhale the food. You were relieved she matched your pace, it’s always embarrassing when you finish a meal way before the person you’re eating with. Abby grabs your empty plate along with her own and puts them in the sink. You immediately walk up behind her and lightly grab her bicep. The feeling of her large muscles made you almost forget what you were going to say. “You made dinner, I get to do the dishes.” you say, gently pushing her to the side and grabbing the plate out of her hand.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve been cleaning all day.” Ms. Anderson picks up the other plate and begins scrubbing it.

“Your house was already clean when I got here, I barely did anything today. Let me make up for it.” She simply blinks at you upon your response, but continues with the dishes. You wonder if you may have accidentally crossed a line mentioning the fact that she didn’t really need your service. It was an unspoken understanding she needed you for more than cleaning. You were squished against each other in front of the sink, trying to softly push the other out of the way. You can feel her warmth through the fabric of her clothes and you falter for a moment, realizing how close you are. Ms. Anderson grabs your plate out of your hand, having finished scrubbing hers clean. You pout in protest, but quickly give in and walk away to go dry your hands on a towel. Abby puts the dishes away and turns towards you, she just stands there for a moment, allowing an awkward silence between the two of you. You take it as a sign to collect your things and leave.

“Thanks for dinner Miss-”

She cuts you off, “Call me Abby, and anytime.” She smiles awkwardly. “Let me walk you out.” You nod and watch as she walks ahead of you. You follow her making your way towards the door.

When you reach the front entrance you walk up to Abby, facing her. You allow only a few inches between the two of you as you speak. “Thank you again uh… Abby.” Feels really weird calling her by her first name.

“Yeah.” She barely manages to whisper out. She’s looking down at you as you look up at her through your lashes and Abby feels just about ready to explode. Her eyes dart down from your eyes to your lips and linger there. Her breathing begins to pick up before she leans down and presses her soft lips on yours. Your eyes widen and you let out a surprised squeak, but it doesn’t take long for you to melt into her. She lightly holds your jaw as she kisses you harder, opening your mouth with her tongue. you place your hands on her chest trying to steady yourself. Her light touch mixed with her rough kissing was making you dizzy. Her hands drag down your arms past your hips and she lightly squeezes your ass, pulling you closer into her. Suddenly she pulls away, her eyes were wide and her breath began to quicken.

“I-I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean-“ she stutters out nervously. But you quickly grab her by the necktie in response, inviting her lips to once again press against yours. Her hands move lower to the back of your thighs and she breaks away from your mouth for a moment to say “Up.” You immediately obey, jumping a little bit to allow her to pick you up. You immediately wrap around her to hold on. You feel the dress ride up dangerously high, the tight material having little give. She strongly grips your thighs, groping the newly exposed skin to hold you up and begins kissing you again as she walks you both to an unknown destination. You couldn’t bring yourself to care where you could be going, you were lost in the feeling of her rough tongue massaging yours, and listening to her little whines and moans sync with yours.

You cross a threshold into a dark room. Abby lets go of one of your legs to close the door before pinning you against it. Her large hands wander around your whole body, it felt like she was touching you everywhere but where you needed her. You begin to gently grind against her in an attempt to satiate the ache in your cunt that was growing unbearable. Ms. Anderson lets out a wavering breath between kisses at the feeling of your hips rocking against her. You begin to move against her a little faster trying to get any friction you possibly can.

“Fuck.” Abby whimpers out breathlessly. You moan at the sound of her needy voice. Ms. Anderson’s wandering hands and rough kissing were intoxicating, yet never enough. You begin unbuttoning her shirt slowly, trying to encourage her to continue. You only get a few undone before her hands gently grab yours and her lips pull away, causing you to let out an involuntary whine.

“It’s alright baby, just gonna move us over here so we can talk.” You have no idea why she thinks now is the best time to talk, but you don’t have a choice since you're clinging on to her. She backs up to sit down on the bed. She moves your legs so you’re straddling one of her thighs, pulling your dress up past your hips to allow you to spread your legs. The position creates a deliciously perfect pressure on your clit.

“Now,” she grabs your hips and encourages you to begin moving against her strong thigh, “We can talk.”

“Miss how-”

“I’m going to explain exactly what I want to do to you and you’re going to tell me what parts you want done to you and what you don’t. Simple yes and no, I won’t take nodding as an answer, you need to use your words, okay?” You had never imagined she’d be this confident in this situation. Dominance oozed from her causing you to grow even more soaked, your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Okay, yes.” You say breathlessly, nodding your head. You’re not sure how your going to manage responding to her in coherent words when your sensitive clit is being ground against her muscular thigh. You were already breathing heavily, and you had barely moved against her.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Miss.” God calling her that was going to drive you wild. Made you feel even more under her control.

“God, I've been thinking about this for so long. I see the way you look at me when I wear this tie. You don’t think I notice you fucking me with your eyes while you’re bent over cleaning in your pretty little dress, baby? Such a little fucking tease.” All you can do in response is whimper. She huffs out a laugh, and leans towards your ear, you could feel her warm breath tickle your skin. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined tying you up with this,” She gestures down at her green necktie, “and teasing you until you’re begging me to let you come?” You let out a loud moan at her filthy words, unable to contain yourself. You grind faster against her, chasing any sort of relief from the throbbing between your legs. “How does that sound baby?” She asks before starting a trail of kisses down your neck.

“G-good, Miss, really good.” You barely manage to respond, she has you falling apart under her touch. Abby hums against your neck, more than satisfied with your answer.

“Knew you’d be perfect for me.” She reaches behind your back and unties your white apron, discarding it on the floor. She kisses you again, her rough tongue caressing yours as she grabs your ass, groping the soft skin with her large hands. She breaks away from you for a moment and catches her breath.

“Lay down, head on the pillows.” She says it in that demanding voice that has you biting your lip to avoid moaning embarrassingly loud. You do as your told and lay down on the soft bedding, sitting up against the pillows. Ms. Anderson crawls on top of you and straddles your waist as she slowly unbuttons your black dress revealing your matching black bra. Abby knew this was just for her because she saw your cheeks begin to glow red. She didn’t unbutton the dress all the way though, only enough so she could pull it open to expose your breasts. She pulls the bra cups down, your cleavage spilling out of the dress. Ms. Anderson stares for a moment, appreciating your disheveled state before grabbing your breasts and massaging them with her large hands. She groans upon touching the soft skin, she begins teasing your nipples, drawing little circles around the sensitive buds before taking one in her mouth. You gasp and moan as you feel her tongue swirling around your sensitive bud. The sensation causes you to grab her hair, looking for anything to hold on to. You thread your fingers through her soft blonde hair and gently pull whenever she sucks particularly hard on your nipple causing her to moan in sync with you. She takes her free hand and places it on your hip, the gentle placement giving you butterflies. She moves to the other nipple, taking her time, she would do anything to get you to keep pulling her hair like that.

Once she’s satisfied, she moves to kneel next to you. She unties her necktie slowly, watching you impatiently squirm, your thighs desperately rubbing together for any sort of relief. She gently takes your hands, and puts them together, palms touching. She then begins to expertly wrap the tie around them securing them together. Her touch was so incredibly gentle, so careful. She took her time, making sure your wrists were properly secured.

“Okay?” She looks up at you checking in. She smirks when she sees your expression. Your eyes wide and mouth hung open, unable to process how incredibly aroused you were.

“Yes Miss.” you say without skipping a beat. Abby nods before getting up off the bed and rummaging through her nightstand. She pulls out a small bullet vibrator and places it on the bed. She looks at you and smiles. seeing how eager you were made her want to fuck you right here right now, but she has to have patience. She's been waiting for this for too long.

She moves your legs apart gently and kneels between them. She gives you a once over admiring how your dress bunched up on your hips and how your breasts perfectly spilled out of the fabric. She then wraps her hands under your knees and yanks you down the bed towards her, forcing you to spread you legs wide and bend your knees. It gave her a perfect view of your cunt, your arousal starting to drip down your inner thighs. You let out a little squeak and a giggle at the sudden movement. She grabs your bound wrists and moves them so they are above your head, leaving you completely at her mercy. Abby licks her lips at the sight of you and smooths her hands up and down your thighs. You whimper, sick of her teasing. Once Abby heard your sound of desperation she finally lost her patience and ripped your tights open at the seam, creating perfect access to your soaked pussy. You gasp at the sound of the fabric ripping, caught completely off guard by the rough movement.

She begins moving her finger up and down your slit over the thin fabric of your underwear. She was barely touching you and you were already falling apart, whining at the feeling of her fingers on you. She rubs circles around your clit and you begin to push your hips into her hand begging for more.

“Patience sweetheart. I’m gonna take my time with you.” She smirks when you groan in frustration. She brings her free hand up to massage your breast pinching and twisting your nipples as she continues to tease your clit.

“Oh god- please Miss-“ You whine, shamelessly begging her for more.

Abby obliges “Since you asked so nicely baby.” She moves your thong to the side letting the fabric snap back against you. You inhale sharply at the slight sting against your skin, all your senses were heightened from her teasing. Every movement and touch was magnified. She finally takes her finger and runs it along your wet slit, gathering your arousal. She takes her finger away, already glistening with your slick, and sucks it into her mouth with a satisfied hum. Abby takes her finger out of her mouth and whispers out “fuck.” Before taking that same finger plus another and shoving them into your needy cunt. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, her large fingers stretching you open.

“Shit baby I know I said I was gonna go slow, but you took two fingers so easily.” You moan loudly, unable to formulate a response in your current state. She curls her fingers and hits your g-spot causing you to cry out. You start to struggle against the silk tie around your wrists, your fingers itching to grab onto something.

“Fuck you sound so good baby.” At that she leans down and starts gently licking at your clit. At this point you can’t even control the noises you're making. Her fingers are steadily hitting your g-spot as she moves them in and out of you at a perfect pace. Your moans start getting louder and your walls start to clench around Abby’s fingers.

“Already close baby?” She asks in a mocking tone. You barely manage to whine out a yes before she stops touching you completely. You let out a desperate cry and try to clench your thighs together to soothe the almost painful throbbing in your cunt.

Abby grabs your legs and yanks them back open. “Uh uh,” she tuts, “you’ll be able to come soon enough sweetheart, but I’m not done with you yet.”

She grabs the bullet vibrator from the edge of the bed. You decide to boldly move your bound hands downwards propelling you to sit up in front of Abby. She looks at you stunned for a moment, you use her shock to your advantage as you move your hands to her shirt unbuttoning it to the best of your ability. She lets you unbutton it all the way, but she pins you back down to the bed before you can encourage her to remove it completely. She hovers over you, her shirt open exposing her naked breasts and prominent abdominal muscles. Now it was your turn to lick your lips, her shirt unbuttoned plus her sleeves rolled up had you grinding your hips against the air.

She smiles as she watches you admire her body, chuckling at your parted lips and wide eyes. Suddenly you feel something hard up against your sensitive clit, you quickly realize what it is as you feel it start vibrating against you. You breathe out a quiet moan at the feeling. She uses her free hand to gently grab your wrists pushing them back above your head to rest on the pillows. Her hand slides down your arm slowly, her fingers gently brushing against your skin. They move down between your breasts and skillfully unbutton the rest of your dress with her one hand. You gasp at the feeling of the cold air hitting your exposed skin. The cool feeling is quickly replaced by Abby’s warm hand, she moves her hand down your stomach and places it on your hip, holding you down against the bed to prevent you from squirming. She turns up the vibrator, the feeling causing pleasure to blossom in your stomach becoming almost overwhelming.

“Fuck, Abby.” You forget yourself, but upon hearing you moan her name Abby groaned, the ache between her own legs growing almost unbearable. The pleasure in your belly begins to build the intense feeling of the vibrator directly on your clit pushing you to the edge, but right as you are about to reach your high the vibrator is pulled away.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” You whine out trying to close your legs to no avail. Abby uses both her hands to spread your legs even wider.

“You wanna come baby?” She asks in a sweet tone.

You whine out a pathetically desperate “Yes.”

“Then beg for it.” She says her voice lowering.

You whimper before giving in “Please Miss, please let me come. I’ll do anything please.” Apparently this was enough for Abby because she spreads your lips, places the vibrator directly on your swollen clit and then proceeds to shove two fingers inside of you. You cry out at her sudden movements, but soon start moaning uncontrollably as she hits your g-spot over and over with each thrust. She easily adds a third finger. You felt so full with her large digits inside of you. Your high was beginning to approach at an alarming rate, an almost unbearable pleasure causing you to let out a pornographic moan.

“Please Miss it’s too much I can’t-” you cut yourself off with a moan.

“But you wanted to come so badly.” She pouts at you overdramatically, mocking you. “I know you can take it baby, you’re going to come for me and when you do I want to hear you say my name. Think you can do that sweetheart?” You nod vigorously unable to respond properly with her fingers fucking a moan out of you at each incredibly fast thrust. Thankfully she accepted the nod, knowing she had you so blissed out you couldn’t respond was more than enough. Your moans grow louder and your walls start to clench hard around Abby’s fingers.

“I-I’m s-so close.” You barely manage to warn her.

“Come for me baby.” You watch her smirk before your eyes are forced closed by the blinding pleasure taking over your body. You swear you see stars as Abby continues to fuck you through it. You are practically screaming her name as your orgasm rips through you, your hips uncontrollably grinding against her fingers and the vibrator. Soon your legs start to shake from overstimulation and you try to pull away, but Abby removes the vibrator to pull you closer to her.

“One more for me baby, I’m not done yet.” She turns off the bullet vibe and throws it to another part of the bed, her fingers still moving in and out of your aching hole. She lays down between your legs and presses her mouth to your cunt. You’re so sensitive you can’t help but squirm against her, she is quick to drape her free hand across your stomach pinning you down. She begins sucking on your swollen clit and you whine at the feeling, your thighs clenching around Abby’s head. She moans at the feeling sending vibrations through your body. Your hands are itching to reach for her hair, you desperately want to thread your hands through her blonde hair and pull, instead they struggle against the makeshift restraints. The helpless feeling only turned you on more though, your cunt clenching around Abby’s fingers. She starts grinding down against the mattress trying to relieve the throbbing growing between her own legs. She sucks on your sensitive bud, her tongue swirling around it. When you start to get close again Abby begins groaning at the sound of your moans. She was close too, you were literally going to make her come in her pants this was fucking ridiculous. Your orgasm hits you suddenly this time, you cry out at the feeling of the pleasure ripping its way through your body. Abby’s groaning intensifies as she reaches her own high grinding desperately against the mattress.

Abby eventually removes her mouth from you when you become too sensitive. She keeps her fingers inside you for a bit longer before pulling them out and sucking them clean. The sight of your arousal on her lips and her open shirt made you sit up again using your bound hands as momentum. When your finally upright you kiss her passionately, tasting yourself on her lips. You break the kiss and rest your forehead against hers the sound of Abby’s breathing synced with yours. She uses the moment to gently untie your wrists.

“You know you made me come in my pants. Barely had to do anything.” She laughs genuinely, she has no idea why she confessed that.

You giggle and reply “I’m flattered.” She finishes untying you and throws the silk necktie onto the floor. She kisses you again and completely removes your dress. She urges you to lay down and lifts up your hips, pulling your tights and underwear down in one swift movement. Once she has you naked she stands up beside the bed and picks you up in the air bridal style. You let out a little yelp and she laughs, her warm chest bouncing against you. You rest your head against her bare skin and sigh contently as she carries you to the bathroom. She sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and wets a washcloth with warm water. She quickly cleans you up before picking you back up in the air and moving you back to the bed. She gently places you on the soft sheets and strips off her button down and pants leaving her in boxers. She crawls into bed beside you, her warm skin pressed against yours. The feeling is so relaxing you almost immediately fall asleep. Before you sink into sleep Abby whispers “I’ll wake you up in the morning before I go to work baby.” She pauses before saying “I’m so fucking glad I hired you.” She kisses the side of your neck and you let out a little laugh before sinking into sleep.

Let me know what y’all think! 💕💕

#abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us 2 #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader

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momotorin · 9 months

Text

my phone fell, love lmao i posted it by accident ^^ @tozakimo

strawberry kisses

farmer!momo x baker!reader | fluff, smut | men dni!

it's been an exhausting year, especially for you. you just graduated from your university, settled for a corporate job somewhere in the bustling and loud city of tokyo. it wasn't even related to your degree, for fucks sake, but you settled for it as it paid off really well.

but then, you got another offer later during the year. working for a small bakery at night just across your apartment. it was quiet, healing, with the smell of pastry and coffee pungent in the air— it was surely something you can't compare with anything.

your corporate job got too heavy, and it got to the point that it wasn't working well anymore. you kept your job at the bakery, now working full time.

unfortunately, before november came, the bakery shut down because of unprecedented reasons; which, the owner died of oldness, which you mourned as ms. sato was the kindest person to ever teach you about anything you know about baking now, she was like a second mother, one that you held really dear to your heart.

late november, your sister, mina, went to your apartment in tokyo.

all primed and cut into the right places, mina knocks on your door, three times, "y/n! open this goddamn door!" she shouted, and you revealed yourself, wrapped around a blanket, eyes puffed with tears. "oh," she hugs you immediately, taking your head to lay on her neck as you hugged her back. "tokyo must've been so unkind to you, huh?"

"i-it is," you sobbed as she held you in her arms. "i wanna go home, mina."

"well," she chuckles, rubbing your back in comfort and warmth. "i wouldn't be here if i didn't take you home."

it was such a pleasant feeling; taking the train home to kobe, the regret and awfulness of the big city of tokyo being transported away from you. mina was kind enough to lend you the window seat, which you really enjoyed.

mina taps you on the hand, "hey," she smiled. "it's sana's birthday in a few days..."

"oh! really?" you perked up at the mention of her girlfriend's name. "what do you plan to do?"

"nothing that big," she chuckles, her head hanging down and her hands fiddling with the rings on her fingers. "i bought a ring already, though."

"what!?" you exclaimed, hands on your mouth, trying to make yourself as shocked as you looked. "i mean, you've known each other for what... like 6 years already? i'm glad for you two."

mina sighs, "i know you are," she said. "but i just don't know how to ask her, you know? i'm not the biggest romantic out there. she is. but she's so busy with the farm and all; i know momo's there to help her but i just don't want to add to her worry if i ever ask h-"

"mina," you held your sister by the shoulders and made her look at you. "i'm not really close with sana but i know she loves you. trust me, she's been waiting for you to pop the question."

"well," she blushes. "could you help me?"

"of course," you chuckled at her. "we have like... 20 more days. so no pressure. let's just get home first, hm?"

"yeah," mina sighs as she lies back on her seat. "you know, i'd like you to meet her best friend, though." mina chuckled. "momo. such a lovely person. the girl literally leaves a couple of her fruits for us when she supplies the flour."

you smiled, imagining what she was like, how she was like, going into your family bakery back home. "she sounds delightful."

the next day, you got your being up to go and operate the family bakery, just a few streets away from your home. you went in with mina and briefed you about the different pastries that they still serve. you added a little bit of yours, but you let it out for a while, not confident enough to put it on the pastry shelves yet.

you sighed, taking a break from kneading, baking, mixing, and carrying the goods. it's around 6 'o clock am, just an hour before the bakery opens. mina was cleaning up the dining area thoroughly, as her jazz music blasted in the background.

the bell of the entrance rings, and you jolt up, "we're not yet ope-"

"oh," the woman chuckled, bags of flour on her toned shoulders, carried by muscled biceps. mina comes to lead the woman to the kitchen, where she puts down the flour on the supply area. "um," she says. "i-i need to get the fruits, hold on."

the woman rushes outside, and you stare at her as she goes to her truck.

"that's momo," mina chuckled at your obvious flush. it wasn't one of attraction, but one of embarrassment. you should've greeted her better. "she's cute isn't she?"

she looked delightful as she sounds.

"here," momo drops the fruits on the counter, bunched up in a plastic bag. "i- um, gotta go, mina."

"no, wait," you chuckled at her obvious shyness, her timidness making her cuter than she already was. "sit for a little while. i didn't greet you well so, wait-" you smiled at her as she sat on one of the seats in the dining area. you rushed to the baking area, where you stored the eclairs that you made, pulled out the little box, and stored it for her.

"here," you handed the box of eclairs to her. "just a little trade for the fruits you got us."

she smiles, "thank you," she bowed. "are you new here?"

"oh," you chuckled as you reached out your hand, urging her to shake hands with you. "i'm y/n. mina's sister."

she gently takes your hand, "momo," she says, looking into your eyes in an obvious flush as she spoke. "i- um, i'm mina's flour supplier."

"well, she told me already," you retracted your hand from her hold, but you admit, that was the greatest handshake of your life. she stands, putting the chair back on its old position. "see you around, i guess?"

"yeah, um," she looks down on her shoes as she takes the box of eclairs. "see you around, y/n."

momo leaves shortly after, leaves you in a haze, and mina nudges at you as she sees that little interaction when she is cleaning up the counter.

she laughs, "can't believe i saw two losers interacting with each other, oh my god," she chuckles. "i'm definitely going to ask sana to set you two up on a date because neither of you are going to do it."

"is she really that fucking buff?" you asked, albeit randomly.

"jesus," mina laughs further. "you stared at her arms the whole time?"

"damn," you palmed your face in the realization. "well it was out. if it had eyes, it'll be looking at me. but she's cute."

"can't believe that my sister thirsted in front of me," mina sighed. "anyways, she lives just right beside sana's. if you wanna know that sort of thing."

well, it's not useless, you thought. "i'm not some creep... i don't just want to show up at her door."

mina laughs as she arranges the trays of pastries ready to be lined up at the pastry shelves, "trust me, she wants you to."

the next day, you and mina, with her girlfriend, came and visited sana's farm, somewhere up the countryside. sana grew vines of grapes, with her wine distillery up the hill.

as you went up the hill, you saw various other fruits, and it reminded you of what momo supplies to the bakery everyday. you've made a jam out of the strawberries she gave, and it was as red as what you're seeing now.

"ah, momo!" sana calls out, waving to the truck that was driving by.

"hey!" momo stopped the truck, coming down from it. you looked in her direction; her hair tied up into a nice bun, her black tank top, her worn out cargo pants, and some boots. god. she looks like she's straight out of your dream. "the deliveries this day was so fucking many-" she mumbles and suddenly stops as you made your way to mina's side. "oh, hi," she greets, in a small tone. "y/n, right?"

"yeah," you smiled. "the strawberries there," you pointed. "are they yours?"

"oh," she scratched her nape, her cheeks at an obvious blush. "yeah- um, yeah it's mine."

"we'll head to the distillery for a while," sana chuckles as she held mina's hand. "take it from here, momo. she hasn't seen your side of the place."

"sana," she sighs. "alright. okay. i'll go take care of it."

you chuckled, "so, strawberries," you said. "how come they're so plump here? they're beautiful."

"well," she went to your side as you viewed the row of freshly grown strawberries. "it's all grown naturally. no pesticides or anything, i make sure that even the soil's clean."

"oh, wow," you commented. "i made a jam out of the strawberries you've been giving us," you said. "it's the yummiest ones. you want to have some?"

"oh, of course," she smiles. you can't help but melt. "the eclairs were so good though," she commented. "how come you aren't selling them yet?"

"i- um," you went silent for a second. "i'm not that confident yet with how it can turn out, you know. that's the last recipe that i learned from someone."

"well," she sighs. "i totally understand. i'll wait for those, though!"

you smiled at her. "so," you looked at her. "what do you do besides farming, momo?"

"i- um," she looks down on her shoes once more, trying to hide her obviously red face. "play drums at the local bar."

"no way!" you said, exclaiming in amusement. "wow," you commented on her. "you seem so chill. didn't expect that you're one."

"well," she chuckled. "it's a jazz bar. nothing too hardcore."

"what do you mean nothing too hardcore?" you chuckled once more, and as you two progress in talking, the more you get amazed at how incredibly delightful this woman was. "i love jazz. where do you play? i wanna go drop by."

"santorini's," she says. "it's sana's bar, actually."

"that friend of yours is one big businesswoman here, huh," you commented. "well, she's perfect with mina."

"couldn't agree more," she says. "when your sister came to her life, it was like she had forgiven anything. i mean, i came late to an invitation once and she just said 'it's okay,' like it's the most normal thing. i guess your sister really did put a bunch of ice on her head to calm her down."

you laughed loudly, astounded by the way she spoke, "ah, you're so..."

"what?" she asks.

"nothing," you chuckled. "so," you clasped your hands at your back. "will you drop by us tomorrow, too?"

"well," she blushed. "of course. i have to deliver mina's orders."

"okay," you smiled. "you don't have to be so uptight around me, you know?"

"i- um-" momo stuttered as you held her hand.

"see," you had a tight grip around her hand, letting her feel the coldness of it against her warm ones. "you're kinda- too cute for this."

it was a thursday, and you went to the bakery right after you took your workout, a new thing that you've been wanting to do.

well, you didn't have time to change, so you baked in your workout outfit, just switching the shirt into a spare, tight, tank top. the apron was clearly useless now, probably.

momo came into the kitchen while you were taking out the freshly baked buns, one that was baking underneath the bigger oven so you had to lean down.

"oh, careful." momo notes as she passes by you. she doesn't forget the sight. you bent down like that waiting for her to get over. god. it made momo go a little crazy while she went and dropped the flour at its usual spot in the bakery supply area. she let herself take that in for a while as she sat down, closing her eyes, feeling an uncomfortable state between her legs.

"momo?" you called out to her, and you went to the supply area, where you found her just.. there. "oh," you quickly went to get some water, as she stared a little too much on your backside on those purple leggings. "here," you said, cutting her out of her daze as you handed her some water. "tough day?"

"very," she said, gulping down the water with a couple of sips. you reached out to a certain drawer in the supply area, your perfectly shaped glutes on display for her. well, fuck. you handed over the strawberry jam to her. "oh, is this it?"

"yeah," you smiled. "try it out. just get a sourdough at the shelves. don't worry, i'll pay for it."

"nope, i have plenty of those at home," she chuckled as she stood up. "i- um," she stutters once more. "are you still going? i'm playing at saturday."

"oh," you smiled, wide enough to compete with the sun. "of course, momo. wouldn't miss that."

"great!" she smiles in happiness, clutching the strawberry jam next to her.

"i'll be cheering for you," you chuckled as you put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it. "good luck!"

she chuckled. "yeah, thanks."

saturday came by fast.

you hung out with momo last night at the market fair, along with mina and sana, who went around the carnival hand in hand.

you had your own delight with momo, who was chill at the carnival games, her winning at several ones, surprisingly as you two ate several snacks on the way. she won a big my melody plushie, which you will forever be thankful for.

you just like spending time with her. she has such immense warmth, though quite timid and shy sometimes, but she was beautiful in a way that you wanted to be consumed by her.

"god," you sigh against your bed, trying to settle into an outfit. "fuck."

"hey," mina says, her body leaning against the doorway. "having trouble?"

"yeah," you sighed as you sat up, and mina made her way to sit with you. "i've been struggling to find an outfit. i don't want something too fitting, too unrevealing, too tight, too everything- i just want something perfect for the night, mina."

mina laughs as she made way to your closet, and pulls out a specific dress. it was a black, suede, champagne dress with its straps thin just to hold the dress together.

"mina, you're a fucking genius," you sighed in comfort as you chuckled, taking the dress from mina's hands. "this is perfect, thank you."

mina laughs, "i know it is. date with momo?"

"hm, kinda like that. i'm seeing her play," you chuckled. "what about you? staying for the night?"

"i'll be at sana's," mina sighs. "she's not having the best time right now..."

"oh, like..." you stopped for a moment, understanding that her girlfriend was sick.

"she's been having a bad fever for the past few days." mina sighs.

"well," you sighed as well, but you remembered something. "i had some extra soup i made a few hours ago," you said. "maybe that could help her."

"you're a lifesaver," mina sighs in relief. "why'd you make it though?"

"just wanted something warm," you giggled. "anyways, i'll be leaving at 7."

"yeah, no worries," mina smiles. "good luck with your date!"

you arrived at the bar, a little past 7pm, perfectly in time in momo's set.

the previous band had only finished playing as you sat right in front, ordering a martini as the first drink of the night.

momo's band comes in as the dim light slowly gets stronger, you catch a sight of momo; in her signature tank top, arms out, with her pants, and a flannel tightly wrapping around the waistband of it. god. she looks so good.

the drums were, unusually, right on front and on the side, just a little beside you and she says 'hi,' with a little smile, her drumstick stuck to her fingers.

she was so cute, but then, she went on to test the tone of the drums, and it sounded great. but god, the way her muscles flexed as she took the drums to sound was so tempting that you just wanted to pull her out of the band and take her home.

but then, she catches a little glance at you again, as she sees you walk to the bathroom. she doesn't miss the subtle appearance of your cleavage, the way that the dress hugged your body so divine, and the way that your ass was so curved in it. it drove her fucking crazy.

you made your way back to your seat, as momo started the song with her band. you got another drink of the same kind.

they played really well, a couple of jazz hits, some requests, and some originals from their band were played.

momo looked at you from the crowd the whole time. you were so beautiful and irresistible in that fucking dress, that she wants to make you tell her to rip it off.

a few songs later, momo's band takes a bow, and the lights dim once more as a sign that their set was finished.

you wait for her silently at your table, now ordering your fourth drink of the night.

"hey," someone taps your shoulder from the back. "how was it?"

you saw momo in all of her glory, her flannel now covering her bare arms. she sits beside you, looking you in the eye.

"you're so great," you said. "you were so good at playing the drums!"

"well," she chuckled as she gestured to the waiter to get her the same drink. "someone important was watching, i didn't want to blow that up."

you chuckled at her, "hm, important, then? so, it's a date..."

"you could put it that way," she teased back. she leans closer to whisper to you, "you look beautiful tonight."

"thanks," you said as you put a hand on her thigh, getting her comfortable with your touches. "you're not so bad yourself. had your arms out and all on the stage."

momo laughs, "well, i didn't know you'd stare at that."

"i mean, i can help but to, you know," you confessed. "it's just so big-"

"something else is bigger- what?" she gets flustered by herself, saying the phrase. "no, oh my god, sorry, y/n... that was such a bad joke."

you just laughed and let yourself lean on her arm. "it's nothing, momo. it's okay," you placed a little kiss on her cheek. "you know, if you really wanna show it off," you slide your hands through her inner thighs, down to her crotch, feeling the material and her cock desperately straining against it. "do it, momo."

"fuck," she stands up, holding your hand, leaving the payment on the table as she makes a rush going out of the bar. "you're getting it."

"hm, let me." you chuckled as she went to open the car door for you, letting you sit down. she went and got into the other side of the car, and she drove away.

"such a little tease for me," she said, running her hand through your bare thigh. "wearing this tight fucking dress," she touches the hem of it as she drove off. "all for others to see."

you held onto your seatbelts as she creeped her fingers closer to your center. "momo-"

the teasing stopped once you arrived at her house, as she pulled you into a deep, breathless kiss. she lets you wrap your legs around her waist as she carries you inside, going to her room.

"fuck," she pulls away, closing her room's door, as she nipped on your neck, making sure that it's red enough for her. "you don't know how much i've been wanting you, baby."

you can't help but moan, and clutch your hand on her hair as she laid you down on her bed, nipping on the valley of your collarbones as she takes off your dress.

"so fucking pretty." she latches on your nipple, as she takes the other to knead with her hand.

"momo, ah- fuck," you rut your hips against her knee as she holds you by the waist. "i need you."

she pulls away from your breasts, as you kiss her, taking her flannel off, and pulling her tank top off. you held tightly to her bicep, as you gently tug on her pants, opening the button of it.

she kneels on top of you, her evident bulge just right on your face. it curved to the side of her calvin klein's, and she takes your hand to palm it.

"so warm, baby," she says, feeling the sensation of you touching it above her boxers. "take it off."

you took it off, and it springed right up, her cock red and hard, slapping up to her navel.

you took her length to your hand, pumping it up and down, as she thrusts. "so needy." you swiped your thumb on the sensitive head, making her squirm.

"wan' fuck your mouth," she whined, getting off of you for a second as she took the space beside you. "please?"

"so cute when you beg," you pumped her a couple of times, as you trailed your kisses from her chest to her stomach. she was whining, holding you by the hair as she makes you a makeshift ponytail. you licked the head of her cock, and she moans loudly. "so cute."

you finally let her fuck your mouth, the big length just sliding in and out of your throat, the tip reaching parts of your mouth you've never known before. momo knows that you were choking, but that doesn't stop her, as she pulled you down by the head to take on her 9 inch length.

"god," she stills, letting her cock pulse fully inside of your mouth. "you're so fucking good, baby."

she finally pulls out, flipping you over with her big strong arms as she kisses your neck once more. "tell me what you want, baby," she whispered. "i need you to let me fuck you like the little bitch you are."

"make me cum," you held onto her hand that was kneading your breast. "please, momo, i don't care how many times- just-"

she kisses you on the lips once more, making you shut up. "don't worry about it."

she trailed her kisses from your chest to the waistband of your panties, spreading your legs and putting it on her shoulders.

"needy little bitch, all for me," she tapped on your arousal that seeped through your panties a couple of times, which made you squirm, your thighs closing on her head. she spreads them once more, removing your panties, and now, the wetness of it glistens in front of her. she takes a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you hold onto her hair. "and you're delicious. can't wait to eat you all night."

she latches her mouth on your clit, looking at you with utmost adoration and lust as you come apart on her tongue. she laps, circles, and plays around with it, making you moan and strut your hips to meet her tongue. she couldn't be more happier when you begged more.

"momo, fuck," you moaned out, her lips still closed and sucking your clit. "fingers, please."

she happily complies, her fingers teasing the outside of your folds, getting it wet enough to be inserted. she puts two of her fingers inside, licking at your clit, as she moves it in and out to hit your g-spot so deliciously.

"mmgh! holy shit, momo," you closed your eyes in the ecstasy of her pleasure. "more, fuck," you rutted your hips, her fingers going faster. "ah."

she pulls away, smirking as she pumps her fingers faster, now she latches on your nipple, stimulating the hard nub, as she makes you come apart on her fingers.

your juices were overflowing on her hand as she went and used her thumb to make circles on your clit. "momo!" you held onto her biceps as she kissed you on the neck. "fuck, fuck," you were becoming sensitive, with the way she was holding and fucking you with her fingers. "momo, i'm gonna-" you held onto her tightly, feeling the heat building up from your pussy.

"cum for me," she whispers, the thumb on your clit teasing you further. "cum, baby."

"fuck!" you screamed, squirting on her hand. you felt your arousal trickle on her hand, to her bed, but you felt something different. it was momo's cum, white, spurted, on your thigh. "did my baby cum untouched with that, huh?" you teased as you pumped her cock, and was surprised that it wasn't even half hard. it was still hard, ready to be inside of you.

"don't worry," you went on top of her, your hands directly touching her toned stomach, as you glide your wetness on her length. "can't wait to have your big cock inside of me," you moaned, lining up her wet cock to your hole. "mmgh," you slowly sit on it, the girth already stretching you out enough. "so fucking big, baby."

she held your arms, as you tried to sit down on her cock. slowly, you ride her, her length not fully in. she was getting impatient, so she rolled you two over, slamming her cock inside of you fully.

she lets you feel her cock inside of you, almost kissing your cervix with how big it is.

"so tight," she thrusts, holding you by the waist, fucking into you slowly to get you loosened up. "fuck, is it your first time?"

"no," you let yourself sway with her, already trembling with how big she was. "it's just that you're so big..."

"hmm, i know," she kisses you once more, a little gentle, as she tries to thrust in and out slowly. "just tell me if you're good already, hm? don't want to destroy my sweetheart like that."

you wrapped your arms around her and you smiled, "get rough with me," you whispered, your mouth forming into an 'o' as her thrusts fasten. "make me your bitch, come on- ah," you moaned, holding onto her biceps. "fuck, use that fucking cock."

"g'nna destroy your little cunt, baby," she moans, holding you by the waist, thrusting as your back arches to her touch. "i'm too big for you," she growls, putting her hand above the spot where she feels her cock bulge. "taking me so fucking well."

you continued to writhe below her, as she pumps her cock, in and out, your pleasure spot getting battered as you let out spurts of your arousal.

"you're so wet," she says, pulling out completely, and turning you over. she tucked a few pillows on your chest, letting you lean onto it as you're now positioned by her on fours. "i want you to stay like this. can you, baby?"

"hmm," you moaned, feeling your juices trickle down to the bedsheets. "fuck..."

"you're making a mess," she laughs, rubbing your folds languidly, as she inserted herself once more, shocking you. you were tighter, "you're gonna squirt on my cock, aren't you, messy girl?'

she went and rubbed your hardened clit, making you squirm and grip her sheets as you whined, screamed, and shouted her name.

she continues to thrust, fast, as she slaps your ass. "fucking slut, always having your ass out when you're at the bakery," she closes her eyes and remembered the times that your ass confined into your clothes too much as she squeezed on it, spreading it apart. "you've been wanting someone to fuck you like this, haven't you, hm?"

"yes, yes!" you screamed, holding onto her sheets as you slammed your hips back in time with hers. she pulls you to her by your hair, and she wrapped her arms around you as she thrusts, her fingers once again creating tight circles on your wet clit.

she huffs, kissing your neck once more, leaving a mark as she held you by the waist, thrusting uncontrollably when she felt your pussy walls pulse against her.

"momo," you moaned, weakly, as you leaned into her touch. "fuck, momo, fuck me more," you whined. "please-"

she pushed you gently again, making you go on fours, as she thrusts, faster than she was before, pumping her wet length in and out of you.

"am i fucking in you enough, huh," she asks in short breaths, her wet skin on your wet skin as you moaned onto her pillows. "so fucking tight, baby," she grunts, feeling your arousal grow by the minute. "cum for me."

you squirted as she continued to thrust, fucking your overused pussy as it pulsed.

"take it." she thrusts, slow, as she makes you feel her pulse. her warm liquid covers your inner walls, as she falls on top of you. "fuck," she pulls out, letting herself soften outside of you. she went and admired her work, your hole filled with her cum, dripping to your clit, but she was fast as she used her tongue to put it back in. she went back to you, making you come back to a laying position, and she makes you rest on her chest. "w's that good, baby?"

you nod against her warm chest, looking up at her. "so good," you smiled, kissing her cheek. "thank you, momo."

she chuckled, "that's nothing," she says. "how are you? did i get too rough? sorry if i d-"

"i told you, right?" you chuckled, holding her hand. "so no, you're not too much."

"well," she blushed still, as she Interlocked her fingers with yours. "what about a proper date?"

"maybe, that's too late to ask," you chuckled. "i mean, you already have me here, you know?"

she laughs, "just wanted to make sure." she kisses your forehead.

maybe, your year isn't that bad at all.

#twice imagines #twice smut #twice fluff #momo imagines #momo fluff #momo smut #twice momo

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remember-that-one-blog · 9 months

Text

As We Go Along (Part 1)

You were offered up as a payment to a mob boss by your father and step-mother. He agreed. Now you're the fiance of the most feared man in New York.

I do not own these characters!

Warnings: Abuse not openly mentioned but is talked about.

This first part is more of a background and getting to know each other chapter. More to come!

You were a burden. At least that’s the way they made you feel. You were from your father’s first marriage. Your mother had died when you were young and your step-mother never had anything for you. She never loved you, but she loved your sister. The daughter she had with your father. You knew this but you never thought she would talk your father into doing this to you. Marrying you off to some mob boss so he could get himself out of debt that he got himself in. She came up with it and he took it to the boss’ right hand man. Two days letter you’re engaged. You didn’t care either way. You hadn’t met the man yet, but you had heard rumors. He was cold-hearted and cruel. Nothing you weren’t used to.

Your father told you that you were to meet him tomorrow at his home.

“You will meet him tomorrow at noon. Here is the address. It should be easy enough to find.”

“Yes, sir.” Your father nodded without another word. That let you know that you were on your own now. Not that you haven’t been since your mom died. You packed up what little you had. Everything you owned fit into one duffle bag. As you laid in your bed for the last time you looked back on your time here with your family. You decided nowhere could be worse than here. With that thought in mind you slipped into a dreamless sleep.

You stood outside your childhood home giving it one last glance. It was bittersweet leaving this place. This is where you had all the memories of your mother, but this place had also been your living hell. You turned away with all the good memories of your mother in the forefront of your mind. A small part of you felt she was leaving with you as well.

You made your way to the bus stop. You looked at the address and read the bus schedule so you knew which bus you would need to take. It was hard, you had been getting around like this for years. You found when the bus you needed would be here you had hoped you left early enough just in case of any delays the buses may have.

You timed it just right. You made it to the address with ten minutes to spare. Although, all you saw was a giant gate but no house. A loud beep caught made you jump. That’s when you saw the intercom.

“State your business.”

“I’m Alexander Pierce’s daughter. I’m supposed to meet Mr. Barnes.” You heard the gate buzz open. A tall, blonde man in a black suit appeared before you in a black SUV. He stepped out to greet you.

“Ms. Pierce, Mr. Barnes has been expecting you. My name is Steve. I can help you with your bags.” He looked around you confused. You felt your face go bright red.

“This is all I have.” You grabbed your duffle bag by the handle. You saw something flash in his eyes but you weren’t sure what. He nodded and held the front door open for you.

“Here, I’ll put it in the back for you.” Steve took your duffle and sat it in the back seat.

“Thank you.” He gave you his hand to help you as you climbed into the front seat. This was new for you. You had never been treated this well. Maybe they were expecting someone else. You couldn’t help as these thoughts ran through your mind. Steve could tell you didn’t want to talk so he left the two of you in a comfortable silence.

It was a short drive to the house you were going to. It was more of a mansion. You felt your mouth drop at the sight. You heard Steve chuckle a bit. Your face went red again.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. You’ll be fine. He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

“You know him pretty well then?”

“I do. Been friends since we were kids. I know him better than he knows himself most of the time.” You nodded as you took in this information. That gave you a little bit of hope, not that you really ever clinged to it. Steve stopped the vehicle as you reached the front door. He got out, grabbed your bag, and proceeded to help you down onto the ground. “Take a deep breath and follow me. You’ll be fine.”

You nodded as you followed Steve up the stairs. The front door itself was huge. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a place this big. Not that someone lived in any way. As you stepped inside you tried to take it all in. It was beautiful. Everything seemed to be decorated in light gray, white, and gold accents. While it was beautiful it didn’t have that homey feel that most homes do. Given what he does, that's not too surprising. There were tall windows everywhere. It made everything look even bigger. It was very modern. You were still reeling as you followed Steve further into the house. As you reached your destination you heard yelling that made you jump. Steve steadied you with a hand to your shoulder.

“It’s okay. Give me a minute while I go talk to him.” You just nodded. Steve sat your bag down beside you and knocked three times on the door.

“Come in!” Steve cracked the door and stuck his head in,

“Buck, it’s Pierce’s daughter.”

“Send her in.” Steve stepped back out to usher you inside the room. Once you entered your eyes went straight to the man behind the desk. He was handsome. Dark hair and bright blue eyes. He was almost as tall as Steve and just as built as he was. He was in a dark gray three piece suit.

“Ms. Pierce, I’ve been expecting you. How did your driver find the place?” You felt yourself deflate. So he had been expecting your sister. You wanted to ask but couldn’t bring yourself to, afraid of the answer.

“Uh, I didn’t - I mean, I brought myself. I don’t have a driver.” Bucky stopped what he was doing. You were looking down at the floor. He said your name just loud enough. Surprised you glanced up at him.

“You mean to tell me, your father sent you here alone?”

“Yes, sir. He did.” Bucky felt his skin crawl. At first glance he thought you were beautiful. Nothing would change that. As he looked closer though he could tell you weren’t taken care of. He could tell you had been given the bare minimum to survive. That was something that would not bode well with him.

“Why would he send you here alone?” You knew the true answer, but you were sure Bucky didn’t want to hear that.

“He had other business to attend to and I was capable of making it here myself.” Bucky didn’t like that answer.

“That’s not an acceptable reason.” That surprised you. “And doll, you can call me Bucky, everyone else does. ‘Sir’ is what everyone called my father.” His nickname for you caught you by surprise. You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but you didn’t hate it

“Of course, sir- I mean, Bucky.” Bucky straightened his tie and made his way to you.

“I have a meeting in a couple of minutes, I don’t have time to show you around or I would. Steve can show you around. I just have two rules.” You nodded to show you were listening. “Never go anywhere alone and never knock on or open this door if it’s closed. The only exception is if it is an emergency. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Steve, if you’ll show her around. I’ll meet you for dinner around seven, doll. I’ll take you out and we’ll get to know each other.” Before you could answer his phone rang. You followed Steve back out of the office and watched him pull the door closed. Steve must have sensed your hesitation.

“Just put on the best clothes you have, sweetheart.” You just nodded. You really didn’t have anything to go out in. You would see what you had though. You followed Steve around as he showed you where everything was. What you couldn’t wait to use was the kitchen. You loved to cook and bake. You didn’t get the chance to do it much at home, but maybe you could here. Finally, Steve showed you to your room. It was three times bigger than your old room was. You had what seemed to be a king sized bed, a little balcony that overlooked the backyard, an en suite bathroom and a closet that you could fit your entire old room in.

“Bucky thought you would want some space. He knows this wasn’t up to you.”

“I’ll have to tell him thank you.” Steve sat your duffle bag beside the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”

“Thank you, Steve.” He closed your door as he left. You looked around and laid down on the bed. It was so soft and cozy! You couldn’t believe it. You pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Maybe, just maybe, this would be okay.

Steve listened for you but you seemed to be unpacking. He could hear you moving around. Once he was sure you were okay, he went to talk to Bucky. Steve saw the door cracked and eased his way inside. Bucky was on the phone but he wasn’t as heated as earlier. He saw Steve made his way to him and ended the call. Steve made his way over to a seat in front of Bucky’s desk.

“So, anything?”

“She’s not anything like her father. She seems to be the exact opposite. She’s quiet, reserved. She doesn’t own a lot, Buck. She came here with one duffle bag. One.” That made Bucky’s skin prickle. He knew Pierce was a harsh man but didn’t think he would be harsh with his daughter.

“So you don’t think this is a set up?”

“If it is, she doesn’t know about it. From what I can tell she wouldn’t do something like that. She’s too soft spoken to do or go along with something like that.”

“I picked up on that, too. I don’t think she was treated well there.” Steve shook his head.

“I don’t think she was either. She seems to be genuine. Which is a surprise considering who her father is.” Bucky nodded. This was unusual, even for him. He normally wouldn’t agree to something like this, but he was looking to settle down as well. The last few women he dated only wanted him for money. He was hoping this might change that.

“Where did you plan on taking her tonight?”

“I’m not sure yet. Why?”

“I don’t think she has anything to wear to a nice restaurant. She seemed a bit panicked when you brought it up.”

“We’ll eat in tonight then. Would you care to go get it?”

“Not at all. You could go talk to her if you want. She’s good, Buck. You could use some good.” Bucky nodded. That was true he could. Steve got up to go get dinner while Bucky debated on going to find you.

You decided to go look around yourself taking your time. You couldn’t find Steve so you decided to go downstairs and see if you could find him there. You looked down the small hallway to see Bucky’s office door was cracked. You thought about going to ask him if you could look around yourself, but your thoughts were distracted by the kitchen. It was state-of-the-art. The mixers, the pans, the refrigerator. Everything was something out of one of your dreams. Your thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You jumped, turning around to see Bucky standing behind you.

“There you are. I thought you would still be unpacking.”

“No, it didn’t take me long. Sorry, I was just curious to see what you had in here. It’s amazing.” You looked around, still blown away by his kitchen.

“No need to apologize. Make yourself at home.” You gave him a small smile. You weren’t sure you knew how to do that. Bucky made his way over to one of the bar stools. He sat down while he eyed you from across the counter. He studied you as you studied him. He seemed to be a little more relaxed. His jacket was off and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Bucky noticed you changed into an oversized sweatshirt, some leggings and fuzzy socks. You seemed so cozy. “So, tell me about yourself, doll. What do you like to do?”

“There isn’t much to tell really. I help my family out when I can and bake if I get the chance.” Bucky nodded his head.

“What’s your favorite thing to bake?”

“Chocolate chip cookies, any kind of cookie really but definitely chocolate chip.”

“Would you wanna make some?” You felt your eyes get big. “No one uses the kitchen much. I usually either go out or order in and no one ever bakes.” You felt yourself getting excited.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You gave Bucky a genuine smile. Those were very rare for you. Bucky gave you one back, his were probably as rare as yours were, maybe even moreso.

Many cookies later, you and Bucky asked small questions at first. You found out he loved sweets and would love to have a dog but is afraid he wouldn’t have the time for one. He found out you loved dogs, even more than you loved baking, and you had never left the state of New York.

“We’ll change that, doll. Don’t you worry.” You giggled at that.

“You know, you’re nothing like everyone makes you out to be.”

“I’m sure my reputation proceeds me. Let me guess, a cold hearted killer and womanizer? That’s what they say in the tabloids I see every now and then.”

“Pretty much, but I will say you are much kinder to me than what I’m used to.” You gave him a small smile. You saw something flash in his eyes that you couldn’t place. With that he decided to bring up the elephant in the room.

“There is something I do want to talk to you about, doll.” You took a pan of cookies out of the oven and sat the next pan in while the others cooled.

“Okay, what’s that?”

“The reason I agreed to your father’s proposal.” You turned around to face him. You had been curious about it but didn’t want to ask out right.

“Okay.”

“Did you want to ask me anything?”

“I did wonder why you agreed to it. I mean, I’m nothing special. Men usually come to my father about proposals for my sister, not me. Although I know this was his idea. I’m just surprised you agreed to it.” You had never been this open and honest with someone you just met. There was just something about Bucky. “I’m sorry, that was overstepping. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Not overstepping, doll. I surprised myself when I agreed to it. The thing is, I am ready to settle down, but not give up my title just yet. I am tired of women just wanting money or just wanting to say they were with me. Granted, I could have gone about it differently than this, but it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t want something.”

“My father was the one who wanted something though.”

“Yes, but not you. I’m just curious as to why you just went along with it.” You took a deep breath.

“You want an honest answer?”

“Of course, doll.”

“I didn’t have a choice. My family also sees me as in the way. So, it got me out of their way.” Bucky’s heart broke for you. You could see it in his eyes. You felt your face turn bright red. You were going to be honest. Your family never hid their disdain for you around anyone, so you didn’t see the point in trying to hide it yourself.

“That’s terrible, doll. I can assure you, you won’t be in the way here. If you ever feel like that you come to me, understand?”

“I understand.” The timer went off for the last batch of cookies just as Steve walked in the door with take out. Your stomach immediately rumbled at the smell of Chinese food. Steve walked in, sitting the food on the counter.

“It smells like a bakery. Did you do all this?” Steve looked around at all the cookies you had baked. You felt your face turn red again.

“She did, we’re gonna try them after we eat.”

“They smell amazing. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Wait, Steve! Here, take some with you. I made way too many as it is.” You hurriedly put a couple of batches in some containers you had found earlier. Steve looked to Bucky as you were packing up the cookies. Steve gave Bucky a small smile and a slight nod you didn’t pick up on. You handed Steve the bag before Bucky could silently reply to Steve. Steve gave you a big smile.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I can’t wait to try them.”

“Let me know what you think. I haven’t got my recipe just right yet.”

“I’ll let you know. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Steve left you all to your dinner. Bucky started getting the containers out. You decided to go ahead and put the cookies that were already cooled in a container. Bucky was still getting food out when you were finished. You hadn’t seen this much food in front of you in a long time. Not that you didn’t eat, you just didn’t eat much. Bucky watched your eyes get wide.

“You okay, doll?”

“Yeah, that’s just a lot of food.”

“Maybe, but then we can have leftovers tomorrow.” He said it so easily. You were a little taken back. “Doll, would you care to get these last few containers out so I can go change. Then we’ll eat.” You just nodded. You didn’t have it in you to reply. Bucky walked up the stairs to his room as you got the last few containers out. You were still in shock at all the food. And the fact that he got some for you too caught you off guard. You didn’t realize it but you felt tears in your eyes. Usually when your family ordered out you got what was left and if you were still hungry you made yourself something in the kitchen. You didn’t hear Bucky come up behind you.

“Everything okay, doll?” He noticed the tears in your eyes. You quickly wiped them away. You noticed he had changed into a white t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. You thought he looked even better like this than in his suit.

“Yeah, everything is fine. I was just getting the rest out.” You put the paper bag in the trash can you found earlier. Bucky sat down on the same bar stool from earlier. He started opening the containers.

“Get whatever you like, doll. I got some of everything. I didn’t know what you would like.” You didn’t know what you would like either. You hadn’t had Chinese takeout before. Your family would get it sometimes but there was never any left for you. “What’s going on in your head?”

“Um, it’s just, uh-”

“Doll, you can talk to me. The side of me you see right now, no one else sees. This is for you and you alone. I want you to be able to talk to me. I know this isn’t conventional but I would like to be able to be open and honest with one another.” You wanted that too, but you weren’t sure how to do it. You never had anyone to confide in. Ever. This was all so new to you, so you decided to be open and honest about everything.

“I’m not used to this, Bucky. I’m not used to being doted on. I never get take-out. I don’t get luxurious bedrooms. I get told what to do and when to do it. I don’t know how to confide in someone. I don’t know how to make myself at home because I’ve never had that luxury. I always get the bare minimum. I’m the burden of my family and they let everyone know.” You hadn’t realized tears started to spill over by the end of what was always on your heart. You had never told anyone this. Bucky reached for your hand nearest him. When you didn’t pull away he clasped it in both of his. You could see Bucky’s eyes dim and then watch something light in them you had never seen before.

“You will never be in the way here. You are going to be my wife and with that is going to come a lot of things you’re not used to. I can see that now. If you are ever overwhelmed please do not hesitate to tell me. I want you to be able to tell me what you’re feeling. This is new to me, too. I want to be honest with you. Granted there are some things that I do that I would rather keep you away from and I will try my best to. Doll, here you will be taken care of and doted on. You won’t even remember what it was like at that house you lived in. We’ll learn as we go along.” You didn’t realize you needed to hear that. You squeezed Bucky’s hand as well as you could as he had started holding your more firmly than before.

“We’ll learn as we go along.” He squeezed your hand back releasing it.

“Great, now that we’ve talked about that. What do you want to try first?” You smiled as you pointed to some chicken that looked good. Bucky handed it to you and waited until you tried it before he grabbed something as well.

And that’s how your first night went with your fiance. Trying Chinese take-out you had never had and learning how to make yourself at home. Maybe you could get used to this.

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