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#PLEASE SUPPORT ME!! Please if you like my art and I give you a smile consider supporting me and what I do.#I've been hit with deep medical debt and I could really use the extra help ;-;#I'd rather work more doing art than work more at my physically demanding job which would take me even more away from art than it already has#patreon#ko-fi#artist#lgbt artist#furry#furry art#trans artist#Neo
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you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson
pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader
warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl
a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?🫢) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3
older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.
you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.
tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.
his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.
you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.
an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.
he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.
when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.
“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.
“he’s in love with me?”
she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.
“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”
art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.
fucking smitten.
tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.
“go on.”
he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.
“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.
“love you more.”
he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.
at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.
he wins.
how could he not with his pretty girl watching?
and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.
so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.
#mine#my writing!#art x reader#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x female reader#art donaldson x tashi duncan#art donaldson drabble#art donaldson blurb#art donaldson fic#art donaldson fluff#art donaldson fanfiction#challengers movie#challengers#challengers fic#challengers film#challengers fanfiction#tashi duncan x reader#tashi duncan x you#art x tashi x reader#writer#writers on tumblr#writing#writing for fun#writing fanfic#smut writing#fluff writing#writing for myself#art 🎾
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MY LITTLE VIRGIN ! ❞
GOJO SATORU , your used to be upperclassmen who happened to be your friends-with-benefits teaching you how to kiss, also the one who took your virginity.
warning. highschool! gojo satoru ( early twenty and you are nineteen ), virginity lost, fingering, raw/unprotected sex.
wc. 2,8k
“hehe... it's amusing how you're still clueless about kissing,” gojo remarked, seated on your bed. his fingers traced along your neck, gently moving up to your chin. in your friends-with-benefits dynamic, you'd sought gojo's guidance on kissing, a proposition he willingly accepted.
“prepare for the best kiss of your life,” gojo chuckled, leaning in closer to your face. lifting your chin, he gazed at your lips with a playful glint in his eyes. blushing profusely under gojo's intense gaze, you nervously lick your lips. “i'm ready, satoru. . .” your voice wavers slightly as you try to maintain eye contact with him.
gojo smirks at your nervousness, finding it endearing. he leans in, closing the distance between your faces until his breath caresses your skin. gojo's smirk widens as he notices your blush deepening. his thumb gently brushes against your lower lip, parting them slightly. “nervous? there's no need to be. just relax and let me guide you...”
with those words, gojo closes the remaining gap between you. his lips meet yours in a tender yet passionate kiss. his free hand moves to cup your cheek, tilting your head for better access as he deepens the kiss.
after a moment, he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “like this... follow my lead and let instinct take over.” feeling overwhelmed but also strangely exhilarated by gojo's expert touch, you nod, trying to follow his instructions. your hands tentatively reach up to rest on his shoulders, holding onto him for support as he continues to guide you through the kiss.
as he pulls away again, you can't help but whimper softly in protest. but then you see that teasing smile on his lips and realize there's more to come. his blue eyes twinkling with mischief, gojo chuckles softly at your reaction. “oh? did you want more already?”
without waiting for an answer, he captures your lips once again in another searing kiss. this time though, he adds a new element— his tongue slips past your parted lips seeking entrance into your mouth. the sensation is overwhelming and intoxicating all at once. you find yourself responding eagerly, mimicking gojo’s movements as if driven by some primal urge.
pulling back after what seems like eternity but was probably mere seconds, gojo gazes down at you with satisfaction. “see? that wasn’t so bad now was it?” but before giving you time to respond, he leans in once more for another tantalizing kiss.
moaning softly into the kiss, you wrap your arms around gojo's neck, pulling him closer. your body feels electrified from the intimate contact, and you can't get enough of his taste, his scent, the way he makes you feel.
when he finally breaks the kiss again, you're left panting and dazed, struggling to regain your composure. “th-that was... s-satoru,” you manage to stammer out, your cheeks flushed a deep crimson. looking up at gojo with hooded eyes, you bite your lip and murmur, “more please... teach me everything...”
a low chuckle rumbles from within gojo's chest as he takes note of your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. “mmm... you're quite the eager student aren't you?” he leans down to capture your lips once more in a long, slow kiss that leaves both of you breathless when it ends. pulling back slightly, gojo looks into your eyes with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.
“i’ll teach you everything... but remember, practice makes perfect. so let's keep practicing until we've perfected this art form together.” and without waiting for another word from you, he dives back into another passionate kiss— this time taking things even further than before.
lost in the whirlwind of sensations, you forget all about being shy or inexperienced. all that matters right now is gojo and the way he makes your entire body tingle.
your hands roam freely across his back, feeling every muscle beneath his shirt. you press yourself closer to him, wanting nothing more than to lose yourself completely in this kiss. every flicker of gojo's tongue against yours sends sparks shooting throughout your body. each brush against your sensitive lips draws moans from deep within your throat.
breaking away from the kiss momentarily, you gasp for air while looking up at gojo with lust-filled eyes. “more... please don't stop...” gojo grins wolfishly at your plea, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, “as you wish...”
he trails hot kisses along your jawline and down the column of your throat, occasionally nipping lightly at the sensitive skin. one of his hands slides underneath your shirt, skimming over your stomach and ribcage before cupping your breast.
at the same time, his knee nudges your legs apart as he settles himself between them. the pressure of his hips against yours sends jolts of pleasure through your core. returning to your lips, gojo kisses you deeply, passionately, pouring all of his desire into the embrace. when he finally pulls away, you're both panting heavily.
“how do you feel now? ready for round two?”
your mind is foggy with lust, unable to process coherent thoughts beyond the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. all you know is that you crave more of gojo's touch, more of his kisses, more of everything he's doing to you.
arching into his touch, you press your breast harder against his palm, silently begging for more stimulation. your hips buck involuntarily, seeking friction against the hard length of gojo's thigh. when he asks if you're ready for round two, you can only nod frantically, too lost in the haze of pleasure to form words. your lips seek his out once more, demanding another scorching kiss.
this time, as your tongues dance, you start to explore gojo's mouth with yours, learning the contours and depths of him. a satisfied growl escapes gojo as he feels your breasts pressing into his hand and your hips grinding against him. he loves seeing how responsive you are to his touches, how eager you are for more.
sliding one finger down from your breast, he teases along the waistband of your pants before dipping beneath the fabric. his digit traces lazy circles against your heated flesh, drawing soft whimpers from deep within your throat.
breaking off from the kiss, gojo looks down at you with a burning desire in his eyes. “let's make sure this second round is even better than the first...” with those words, he plunges two fingers inside you, curling them upwards to stroke that sweet spot hidden within. at the same time, his thumb finds its way to your clit and begins circling slowly around it.
“feel good?”
a loud moan tears itself from your throat as gojo's fingers delve deeper, hitting spots inside you that you didn't even know existed. your back arches off the bed, pushing your chest towards him. his thumb on your clit is pure torture— each circle sending waves of pleasure radiating outward. it feels incredible, too much and not nearly enough all at once.
your nails dig into gojo's back, leaving red marks where they claw at his skin. “‘toru. . .” you gasp out between moans, “feels so good...” your hips move instinctively against his hand, chasing after that elusive climax that seems tantalizingly close but always just out of reach.
gojo's eyes darken with lust as he watches you writhe beneath him, your face contorted in pleasure. he loves seeing you like this— completely uninhibited and at his mercy. “that's it baby, let go. give in to the pleasure...”
he increases the speed of his fingers, pumping them in and out of you at a rapid pace. his thumb presses down firmly on your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. gojo leans down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to mix pain with pleasure. his other hand grips your hip tightly, holding you in place as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.
“come for me. i want to feel you fall apart on my fingers.”
the combination of gojo's relentless fingering and relentless thumbing sends shockwaves of ecstasy crashing through your body. every thrust of his fingers, every circle of his thumb pushes you higher and higher until there's no turning back. a strangled cry rips from your throat as you finally tip over the edge. your walls clench around gojo's fingers in rhythmic spasms, pulsating with each wave of orgasmic bliss that washes over you.
your entire world narrows down to the feeling of gojo's fingers inside you and his thumb working magic on your clit. the pleasure is so intense, so overpowering that it threatens to consume you whole. as the last tremors subside, you collapse back onto the bed��� spent yet utterly satisfied.
gojo continues to pump his fingers slowly inside you as you come down from your high, milking every last drop of your release. once your spasms have ceased, he withdraws his fingers with a satisfied smirk.
“look at you, coming undone so beautifully for me. you took your lesson well, i must say.”
he brings his fingers to his lips, sucking your essence off them with a low hum of appreciation. “delicious. . .” leaning over you, gojo captures your lips in a deep, sensual kiss, letting you taste yourself on him. after a moment, he pulls back with a mischievous glint in his eye, “but we're far from done, sweetheart. there are still plenty more lessons to be learned... and i'm just getting started.”
even though you're still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, a fresh wave of arousal surges through you at gojo's words. the thought of what else he might teach you sends tingles racing down your spine.
you manage to push myself up onto your elbows, your heavy-lidded gaze locked onto gojo's handsome face. “show me, teach me everything...” without waiting for him to respond, you reach down and unbutton your pants with shaky hands. the cool air hits my overheated skin as you peel off your clothes piece by piece, exposing more and more of yourself to gojo’s hungry eyes.
your heart pounds wildly in your chest as you lay bare before him— vulnerable yet filled with anticipation for whatever comes next. watching you strip off your clothes, gojo's cock twitches eagerly against his own trousers. he lets out a low chuckle, admiring the sight of your flushed skin and swollen breasts.
“i love seeing you like this— open and willing. it's incredibly arousing...” he moves closer, his blue eyes darkening with lust as he takes in every inch of exposed flesh. reaching out, he runs a single finger down the center line of your body from collarbone to belly button, savoring the sensation of your smooth skin under his touch.
“now, let's see how well you can please someone.”
with that said, gojo starts unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. his throbbing member springs free— long and thick— standing proudly erect against his lower abdomen.
“are you ready to take me on?”
your breath hitches in your throat as you watch gojo undo his belt and unzip his trousers. the sight of his erect member makes your pussy clench in longing. in response to his question, you nod vigorously, unable to form words due to the intense desire clouding your senses.
you reach out tentatively towards him, wanting nothing more than to wrap your fingers around his shaft and guide it towards your needy entrance. but instead of taking control, you wait patiently for him to initiate contact again.
as you lie there before him— naked and wanting— anticipation builds within you like never before, finally realizing that gojo is going to be the one who took your virginity. gojo smirks at your eagerness, enjoying the way you stare hungrily at his manhood. he steps out of his trousers and kicks them aside, revealing himself fully to you.
“there's no need to rush... we've got all night.”
he positions himself between your spread legs, leaning down to tease the head of his cock against your slick folds. the tip rubs gently against your clit, spreading your wetness across both areas. looking up into your eyes, gojo gives you a wicked grin, “relax and enjoy the ride...”
slowly, he begins pushing into you— stretching your tight walls deliciously wide around him. each inch that enters fills you up more completely than anything ever has before.
“feels fucking amazing doesn’t it?”
“fuck!” you cried in pain the moment he's bottomed out inside you. your nails digging into his biceps and eyes tightly shut from the pain of your virginity being taken with his massive cock.
at your sharp intake of breath and pained cry, gojo pauses for a moment, giving you time to adjust to the sudden fullness. he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, offering reassurance despite the fierce grip of your nails on his arms.
“shh, it's okay... just breathe. you're doing great.”
once you seem more comfortable, he carefully starts to rock his hips, withdrawing slightly before pressing back in at a slower, more controlled pace. the movement helps ease the initial discomfort, gradually building the pleasurable friction between your joined bodies.
“see? this isn't so bad, is it? in fact, it feels pretty damn good already...” as gojo starts moving, the initial pain begins to fade, replaced by an unfamiliar but not unpleasant sensation. it's almost like your body is remembering how to accommodate something so large inside you.
you manage a weak nod, still struggling to catch your breath, “y-yeah... it's okay now. . .” emboldened by the gentle rhythm, you start to move your hips in sync with gojo's, meeting him thrust for thrust. a soft moan escapes your lips as the pressure builds anew, this time centered on the sweet spot deep within you that he seems to hit perfectly with every stroke.
mindlessly, you tangle your fingers in his white hair, pulling him down for a desperate, clinging kiss as if trying to merge your very souls together through the intimate act. gojo grins against your lips, pleased by your growing responsiveness. he deepens the kiss further, tasting your sweetness while continuing his steady thrusts.
“that's right... let go and feel everything...”
he breaks away from the kiss only to trail hot kisses down along your jawline and neck. with each downward stroke of his tongue against sensitive skin, he matches it with another slow plunge into your welcoming depths.
feeling your inner muscles clenching around him drives gojo wild; he can tell that despite being a novice at sex, you were born for this kind of pleasure. the combination of gojo's relentless thrusts and teasing kisses sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. your mind becomes a blur of sensations— the feeling of him filling you completely, the sound of his low growls echoing in your ears, even the scent that surrounds you is intoxicating.
a loud gasp tears itself from your throat as he finds that perfect spot again and again, causing sparks to fly behind your closed eyelids, “oh god! ’toru. . .”
your entire focus narrows down to the point where they connect— it's overwhelming but also addictive. you find yourself arching up into him instinctively, urging him deeper.
“please don't stop. . .”
hearing you beg for more spurs gojo on, his movements becoming more urgent and powerful. he grips your hips firmly, using the leverage to piston into you at a frenzied pace.
“fuck, you feel incredible, so tight and wet for me.” his harsh breathing mingles with yours as he chases his impending climax, driven mad by the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping his cock. “gonna fill you up so g-good, baby, mark you as mine...”
gojo's thrusts grow erratic as he nears the edge, his balls drawing up tight against his body. with a final, brutal shove, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and holds still, roaring out his release as hot jets of cum flood your insides.
your whole body trembles violently beneath gojo as his seed floods your womb. the intense heat and pressure trigger an explosive orgasm in you, sending shockwaves of pure bliss radiating outward from your core.
your inner walls clench and flutter around his pulsing length, milking him for all he's worth. a strangled scream rips from your throat as wave after wave crashes over you, leaving you drenched in sweat and utterly spent.
“oh fuck! s-ah!atoru!”
as reality slowly comes back into focus, you realize just how deeply connected you two are at this moment— physically, emotionally and spiritually. there's no turning back now; you've been claimed by him in every possible way.
collapsing onto you, gojo lets out a satisfied sigh as he rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm. he plants tender kisses along your collarbone and chest, marking you as his own in ways beyond mere physical possession.
“that was... incredible.”
still buried deep within you, he slowly starts to withdraw from your clenching walls, allowing them to stretch and contract around his softening member. each pull sends another jolt of pleasure through your system, prolonging the high.
“feel better now?”
despite having just given you the most intense experience of your life, gojo looks at you with genuine concern and affection. after he collapses onto you, his heavy weight provides a comforting warmth against your cooling skin. his chest rises and falls rapidly against your breasts, matching the frantic beating of your heart.
despite the exhaustion seeping into every fiber of your being, there’s an undeniable satisfaction that settles deep within you. you run your fingers lazily through his disheveled hair, feeling proud yet vulnerable at having given yourself so completely to him.
“that was... incredible,” you murmur softly, give him a tired smile, looking up into those captivating blue eyes filled with raw desire and affection.
with a contented sigh, gojo leans down to capture your lips in a tender, lingering kiss. his tongue sweeps against yours softly, savoring the taste of you mixed with the musk of their combined arousal.
“mmm, i knew you'd be amazing...”
he pulls back slightly to gaze into your eyes, his expression a mix of pride, adoration, and possessiveness, “you're mine now, in every sense of the word. never forget that.” gojo rolls off of you and gathers you close, cradling your body against his as he strokes your hair soothingly, “rest now, my little virgin. we've got a lifetime of pleasure ahead of us.”
nestled securely in gojo's embrace, you let out a happy sigh, feeling safe and cherished in his strong arms. your eyelids grow heavy as the aftermath of your intense lovemaking washes over you, lulling you into a peaceful slumber.
in your dreams, you see flashes of the future— moments stolen from time, memories made with gojo, and a love that transcends the boundaries of life and death. when you awaken, you know without a doubt that you belong to him, and he to you, forevermore.
as you drift off to sleep nestled against him, gojo watches over you protectively. he runs his hand gently across your back, marveling at how different things could have turned out had he not intervened earlier today.
but fate brought you here, together. and though he may be many things— powerful mage, leader of jujutsu high school— nothing compares to how much he cares for this fragile human girl now lying trustingly beside him.
he smiles softly as he listens to your quiet breathing, knowing that whatever challenges await them both, they will face them side by side. for better or worse, you are his now.
“sleep well, my love.”
#gojo x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo satoru smut#satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#satoru x y/n#anime smut#jjk x reader smut
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I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 12k
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: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕
Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰
Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.
It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee.
You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile.
He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.
It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise.
“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”
Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss.
“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”
“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”
“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”
“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”
At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh.
“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.
“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”
“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”
You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved.
At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”
He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again.
“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”
“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”
“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.”
“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”
“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”
“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.”
“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that.
“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”
You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.
Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly.
But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.
You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.
You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong.
Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants.
She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face.
“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”
You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly.
“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”
“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.
“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in.
“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—”
“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true.
And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his.
But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay.
“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”
The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss.
“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room.
You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.
“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?”
Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head.
“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”
“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”
“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”
“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down.
With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile.
“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”
You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.
“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.”
“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”
“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues.
“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”
“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”
“But I—”
“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass.
You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.
“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”
Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.
“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”
“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.
In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala.
As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell.
He’s unfairly handsome.
He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.
The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze.
“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.
“If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him.
“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters.
“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”
Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.
Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”
“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say.
Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.
“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says.
“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached.
“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”
You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.
Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.
Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway.
“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”
“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”
Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.
Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok.
Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them.
There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point.
“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison.
“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”
“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind.
“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you.
“Yes, sir.”
“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”
“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”
Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.
“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.
“No.”
“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”
“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”
He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.
“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”
“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”
“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.
“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”
“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”
“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds.
“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”
“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”
“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.
“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”
“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”
You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.
But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.
“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around.
But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father.
You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.
“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”
“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk.
A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”
You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out.
As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.
“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says.
“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly.
“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”
“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”
You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.
“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”
“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”
“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”
You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day.
You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day.
All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.
Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks.
You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so.
You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you.
There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily.
You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised.
“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.
“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”
You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.
“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs.
He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.
“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?”
“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.
You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in.
“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”
You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed.
You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.
Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first.
He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.
“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”
“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what’s my week like?”
You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected.
Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make.
You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed.
But of course, he has to ruin it again.
“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”
“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings.
Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done.
You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough.
It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough.
You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon.
It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day.
They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.
His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.
“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.
He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting.
How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t.
You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting.
It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you.
Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs.
You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same.
You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge.
You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files.
You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents.
“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that.
“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”
“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door.
You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.
You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger.
It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.
“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes.
“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.”
You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.
Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours.
Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.
“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”
“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”
Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything.
But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.
You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.
[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you?
You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation.
You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do.
It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty.
You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.
“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”
“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more.
“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.
He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you.
“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.
“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”
“Well, duty calls. What can I do?”
“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies.
“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle.
“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”
“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites.
Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment.
“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.
“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”
“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”
“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”
“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs.
You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction.
You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.
“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”
“It will,” you smile. “Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”
“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing.
“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back.
“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it.
You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career.
“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.
“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm.
You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.
“Need help?” Yoongi asks.
“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.
“You brat.”
You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this.
“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder.
You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today.
From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.
He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision.
Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.
Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.
But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.
That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.
He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.
That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you.
Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.
It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.
Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.
But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.
“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”
Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.
“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”
“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly.
Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.
“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”
“So you’re actually friends?”
“Yes.”
“Were you more?”
Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.
“Does it matter?” The older man asks.
“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”
“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.”
Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede.
But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply.
“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”
Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.
“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. “You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know? But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”
“How are you still friends?”
“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.
“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”
“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”
“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs.
Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”
“How brave,” Jungkook remarks.
“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans.
“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”
“I already do. That’s why I…”
“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”
“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.
“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”
“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.
“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”
Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.
“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”
“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.
“The cafe down the street, then?”
“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans.
But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.
So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.
“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says.
“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”
“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”
“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”
Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now.
He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.
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i am always thinking about art getting a little too tipsy and making his way back to his dorm room, only to find out that patricks got another girl in there.. so he makes the familiar trip to your dorm <3
loud knocking echoes through your room, and you're thankful your roommate is on vacation or else you're sure she would complain endlessly. the knocking continues as you check the time. 1:45am. you mumble and yawn and rub your eyes as you walk to the door, opening it slowly and peeking out. there's art, red eyes and flushed cheeks, hair beautifully messed up from the wind outside. he sniffles. "'m sorry i really didn't mean t' wake you up.. jus' need somewhere t'sleep" he murmurs, grabbing onto the edge of your door for support. you welcome him in quickly, leading him like a shepherd leads his sheep to your bed, sitting him down.
"art.. what happened? it's so late" he takes a second to comprehend what you're saying. "well i wen' to this party 'n patrick left to go makeout with some girl.. 'n then these guys started a drinking game 'n wanted me t' join.. so i did and.." he pauses, obviously embarrassed. "'n then i drank too much and threw up on their lawn.. everyone was laughing.." he whines, looking to you as if you can turn back time to save him from humiliation. "oh art.." you look him up and down, his clothes are messed up and dirty, and he looks absolutely exhausted and miserable. "alright um.. here's what ill do, drink some water art, ill try to find you a shirt and some old shorts to wear okay? you can sleep here" you know you worry too much but in his current state you're worried someone might come along and take advantage of him on the walk back to his dorm.
art drains your water bottle like a man dying of thirst, looking up at you with watery eyes when you hand him some clothes. "my old boyfriend left these here so.. they probably fit you, and im sure you wouldn't want to wear my shorts.." art nods, taking the clothes, but in his drunken state he almost remarks that, no, he wouldn't mind wearing your shorts, the ounce of connection he would feel would be worth the embarrassment. art stumbles up and changes in the bathroom, you hear him knocking around in there for almost ten minutes before he emerges, pulling up the shorts that are almost falling off of his lean frame. with your help, he gets into bed, letting you tuck him in, in such a caring way that makes arts heart beat faster. "im just gonna be over in my roommates bed okay? sleep well art" you can tell that he wants to say something, but after a second he just nods his head and pulls the covers around him.
art lasts about 10 minutes before he's softly calling your name, half hoping you're already asleep so you won't reject him. to his (un)happiness, you turn over in bed, meeting his eyes across the room. "what's up?" you ask, smiling at the familiar whispering across the room that reminded you of many sleepovers as a child. "i- um can you just come over here?" he asks. you sigh, getting out of bed and quietly padding over to your bed. "i can't sleep" art states. you look at your clock placed on your desk, "well it has only been ten minutes art.. just give yourself some time." you turn to walk away but art grabs your wrist. "no.. um.. can you stay in this bed tonight?" if you weren't listening as hard as you would you wouldn't be able to hear the near-whisper that comes out of his mouth. "please?" he whines, looking up at you with those pathetic blue eyes of his. you can't help but agree, crawling in bed behind him, adjusting your pillow. "thank you" art squeaks out, curling up on himself.
now it's you who can't last ten minutes. looking at art, alone and sad tugs at your heartstrings, triggering an almost maternal care for him that you're sure will be problematic later. you move art so that his head is now placed on your shoulder, his warm steady breaths hitting the side of your neck. before you can think about it, your hand comes down to rub his back softly, reflecting that it always helped you fall asleep quick when your mother would do it. you feel arts eye lashes flutter against you as his eyes droop, body melting into yours as sleep takes over his body. you fall asleep only minutes later, secretly wishing that patrick would kick art out of his dorm more often <3
#parkerluvsu#parker.talks#art donaldson#challengers x reader#challengers 2024#challengers#art donaldson x reader
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SLUT! — P.JS
synopsis: experiencing love in your last year of high school was totally unexpected, especially when it’s the fact that you had fallen for the boy everyone wants. what you weren’t prepared for was the troubles that came with it. however, you were willing to pay the price just for the sake of love.
pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader
genre: acquaintances to lovers, high school au, romance, angst, coming of age (?)
warning(s): profanities, (slight) slut shaming, underage drinking and partying
wc: 6.7k
a/n: last fic of 2023! thank you for all the support 🫶 a little piece dedicated to everyone and also those who loves this song equally as much as me! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
Finding love was the last thing you had on your list right now.
It was the final year of high school. Everyone was freaking out over the fact that they were growing older and their time in high school was over. The Californian air couldn't be any more duller after that. Senior prom and graduation preparations were already starting even though it was just the start of the year. What was stopping them anyway?
Being a teenager was art, but what they didn't tell you about growing up was the process of falling in love.
It was torture. Witnessing people in love all around you while you struggled with advancing past the talking stage. No, it wasn't fair. However, having cupid strike its bow at you unexpectedly one day was the worst of crimes.
You know the embarrassing feeling when you see your classmates outside of school? Right. That was how you felt the moment Park Jong Seong walked into your mother's clinic, your eyes widening behind the counter. Must you be responsible for the counter at this very hour?
“Hey—Y/N?”
Jay was a classmate. You didn't really know him and neither did he know much about you. It was just neutral, where you coexist in the same space until the bell rings and the day ends. You get the gist.
That doesn't exclude the point where Jay was widely known, though. He wasn't like his popular jock friends or an athlete whatsoever. Instead, he was a studious guy who kept his reputation clean. Basically, he was your typical golden boy. You knew he wasn't completely innocent to an extent, but at least he was good at hiding it.
There is no denying that everyone wants him. He was a nice guy paired with strong, distinct features. It was no secret he was also known for his looks and caring manners.
“Jay? What are you doing here?”
He was wrapped in a thick hoodie, hands hidden in his pants pocket. “Caught a cold. I thought I should drop by to see a doctor and get some medicine,”
“Oh no,” you tried your best at giving a concerned expression, though you were busy skimming through files on the laptop. “Do you have a record here?”
“I do. Not my first time,”
You tried for his full legal name instead of ‘Jay Park’ and thankfully, his record showed up. “Found it,” you glanced up just to find him staring back at you. This was probably the first time you were this close to him, enough to be able to distinguish the moles on his face.
“I'll call you in a bit,”
You did what you always do every time, inform your mother and call the patients in. But Jay wasn't just another patient to you. When you called his name, you watched as he got closer, casting you a sweet smile right before he disappeared behind the door, leaving you to your seat at the counter, overthinking the littlest details that you knew you'd have to spill to your best friend after.
Jay waited patiently by the counter once it was time to pay. His gaze followed your every move as you got his prescribed medicine and stuffed them carefully into a bag.
“Here you go,” you passed the bag over, then accepted the cash he had been holding for a while. “Thanks,” you muttered, taking the chance at avoiding eye contact when you slipped the cash into the register.
“Thank you too,” Jay said, immediately gaining your attention. He was still managing a smile even though you could tell he was shivering slightly.
“No problem. Rest well,” you took a piece of candy from your own bowl of personal sweets stash. “Here,”
“Candy?”
You nodded, humming softly.
“Thanks,” his voice was quieter, sounding as if he was in disbelief. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes twinkled, a hint of fascination lingered. “I'll see you around, Y/N.”
“See you.”
That night, you laid awake replaying the encounter you had with Jay. It was the first time you've ever talked to him, and it was barely anything, but you somehow understood why people liked him by then. Not like you didn't like him initially, you meant, romantically.
It was definitely an odd place to meet and talk to him. Out of all the possible places, it just had to be your mother’s clinic that none of your peers came to once, that was until him. But somehow, it was the right timing despite the location. It was the wrong place at the right time.
Who knew his cold and your candy would soon start something neither of you expected.
“Do you wish you made out with him or something?”
Telling Yunjin about it was probably the best and worst idea. Sure, she could be a great moral support, except she lacked filters when needed.
“What the fuck—no!” You glanced around, hoping none of the passing students heard your stupid discussions. “He's hot but not like that, at all,”
“So you admit he's hot!”
You rolled your eyes, chucking the bag of Doritos back to her. “I never said he wasn't,”
“You intended it, said you didn't get the ‘hype’ around him,”
“Until now!” You threw your hands up in surrender, only getting a cackle from Yunjin as a response. “Whatever. It's a one time thing. He's out of my league. It's a whole ‘You Belong with Me’ music video type of situation excluding me being friends with him,”
“You're yapping at this point,”
“Thanks, I know,”
“It's not that serious, Y/N. You fighting your life trying to defend yourself only makes it seem like you're in denial,” why must she always be on point?
“Whatever, whatever,” you waved her off, stubbornly ignoring what she said. “I'm at the back of the line anyway, I should be worrying about graduation and college,”
“Oh right!” Yunjin physically jumped, her backpack shook. “I need your opinion on something.”
That whole Jay discourse had swarmed your head that was currently leaning against the window. You purposely picked a seat by the window at the back of the class, hoping for some space to think since it was a class you didn't have with Yunjin.
“A dollar for your thoughts?”
To your right stood Jay, shouldering his backpack and offering a warm smile. You knew you shared this class with him, but to have him walk up to you at that very moment was something beyond unexpected.
“Hey,” you greeted rather stiffly, not knowing what to do now that you were put under the spot. “W–what are you doing standing there?” Facepalm.
“Oh—do you mind if I sit beside you?” He pointed at the empty seat next to you, and you shook your head. You usually sat with random classmates anyway, having no close friends in this class was a struggle.
Jay's face broke into a smile of relief, plotting his bag down before taking a seat. “Thanks, I don't really have anyone I know here,”
“You don't?” That's weird. You always noticed how people naturally swarmed around Jay's table, either greeting him or chatting with him.
“Not really. None of them are really my friends,”
But you were?
“You're a friend to me, though,” he added, as if reading your mind at that instant.
You were taken aback, but you hid it well, masking it with nonchalance. “Really?”
He nodded, a sincere smile that told you he meant it. You let yourself loose this time, reciprocating his smile. “I'm honoured,”
“I'm even more honoured.”
Throughout the class, you didn't miss the occasional glances from him and neither did you stop yourself from looking at him. He was much more breathtaking up close. Who were you to deny that?
By the end of the class, the bell rang and everyone started to pack up, some already rushing out in a hurry. You, on the other hand, was too caught up in your headspace to notice Jay was already done tidying up beside you and was waiting for his queue.
“Uh—Y/N?” he tapped you on your shoulder, stealing your attention at once. You stared at him expectantly, blinking with curiosity behind your eyes.
“Yeah?” You dragged the word out slightly, packing your last book into your bag.
“Would you like to go to a party this weekend?”
A party? That'd be your first.
“Where's that? Can I bring my friend too?”
“Yes and it's at Jake's house,” he winced, forgetting you're not one of those frequent party goers. “I'll text you the details—wait, I don't even have your number,” he laughed awkwardly, which only made you smile.
“Real smooth, Jay,” you signalled for his phone, and he grabbed it out of his jeans pocket without saying a word, eyes following your move as you typed in your number.
When you handed his phone back, he didn’t hesitate to press the call button. Obviously, you heard your ringtone coming from your backpack. You glanced at Jay, giving him a face that was saying ‘really?’, quite incredulous that he’d doubted you.
“Just wanted to be sure,” he smiled, scratching the back of his neck out of awkwardness. “I’ll make sure to text you,” he held his phone up, waving it a little and slowly getting up from his seat, to which you followed suit. At that moment, the classroom was already almost empty, so it was just a few lingering students with you and Jay, but it all felt like you were in a completely different universe altogether.
“Cool,”
“Cool,” Jay echoed after you, and you resisted yourself from laughing. Apparently he noticed your tight smile and smiled along with you. Wordlessly, you two communicated through each of your smiles even as you walked side by side out the door.
“Which way are you going?” he was quick to ask, eyes shining with expectations.
“I’m going that way,” you pointed to the right, down the busy corridor.
“Oh,” Jay visibly faltered, the expectations he held behind his gaze were crushed. “I’m heading that way,” he pointed to the left, the opposite direction of where you’re going.
“I guess that’s it for today,” you patted his shoulder, unbeknownst to how Jay had froze under your touch for a second. “Until our next class together, then,”
“See you,” he waved, gradually backing away.
You couldn’t help but grin. “Bye!”
You watched as he walked away, his back now fully facing you. It took you another beat before your feet were willing you away to where you were meant to go. But what you failed to realise as you concentrated on your steps was Jay turning his head back to catch a glimpse of you, his head only filled with the thoughts of you.
He’s so screwed.
Staying at the library was the last resort for you once you got to know Yunjin had an impromptu extra hour class after school. She promised she'd take you to the pool, considering the weather was only getting hotter day by day. But you suppose it'd have to wait for now.
What was worse, the heatwave or high school? Trick question.
The library was mostly empty by this hour, only a couple of students remained to either study or chill around just like you. It was one of those times where you wondered why you didn't explore more. As you wandered along the towering shelves filled with old books, you caught sight of an interesting looking one.
Instinctively, you pulled the book out of the shelf without thinking twice. But what caught your eyes wasn't the cover of the book or the book itself in general. Instead, it was the pair of eyes staring back at you through the small gap from where the book originally sat.
The most surprising bit of all was you knew and recognised who those eyes belonged to. Jay.
Your eyes widened, so did he once he saw your reaction. For some inexplicable reason, you stood up straight, unknowingly fixing your hair out of a nervous habit.
You were nervous? It's just Jay. No, wait, that's probably why. It's Jay. How were you not going to feel nervous around him?
Quick, think! Were you going to find him in the next aisle or run away. Maybe not the latter. You turned on your heel and walked forward, deciding to find Jay and greet him out of courtesy.
You were just about to turn the corner when you stumbled into the man you were looking for, perfect. Actually, not perfect. The moment you crashed into him, you stumbled into his chest and his hands flew up to catch you, the book originally in his possession dropped to the ground with a firm thud.
There you were, literally in his arms and looking frenzied. His wide eyes matched yours. It took a few beats and a moment for your mind to formulate what's happening for you to finally push yourself from him, absolutely flustered from embarrassment.
“Hey,” you dusted your front in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks.
“Hi,” he replied rather breathlessly, mirroring your rosy cheeks.
The book that fell to the ground suddenly became unimportant to Jay, but to you, it was a mark that was burning into the precious floorings. You moved fast and picked up the book, yet you weren't quick to hand it back, instead you took a look at it.
“Pride and Prejudice?” You noted from the old cover, then glanced at him, a glint of interest sparked. “Didn't know you're like that,” you extended the book out to him.
He took the book back into his possession, smiling rather sweetly. “Literature is the death of me,”
“Isn't it a selective subject?”
“It is. I was an idiot for thinking I could hold on,” he rolled his eyes, making you giggle softly.
“I'm sure you will. You're—like—Einstein smart,”
“Are you trying to stroke my ego right now?” He crossed his arms, leaning onto the bookshelf ever so casually.
“No, I'm just pointing it out. You literally rank in the top 5 every year! It's annoying,”
“Is it so?”
“Very much,”
“Should I be flattered? I'm flattered,” he bowed dramatically, unable to hide his smug smile. It was your turn to roll your eyes, shaking your head at him. He only let out a laugh at your reaction. “What are you doing here at this time anyway?”
“Oh—Yunjin, my friend, had a random impromptu class so she had to stay back. I was waiting for her since she’s bringing me to go swim, but now I don’t know if that’s happening,”
“You could always stop by my place for a swim,”
You blinked, head tilting to one side. “What?”
Jay seemed to have become embarrassed judging from the reddening tips of his ears that you were (thankfully) oblivious to. “I have a pool, and my parents are out of town for maybe a few months or so for work, so it’s practically unused,”
“What about your friends? Don’t they go over to swim?”
“They do, but they’re looking to take more advantage of it by wanting to throw a party soon since my parents are away,” he grumbled in the last part.
“Well, are you?”
“I guess? I don’t mind it,” he hummed, bright eyes flickering to you. “Will you come if I do?”
“If I’m invited,”
“Obviously you are,” Jay said matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised. “So what do you say?”
“Sure,”
“Great. I’ll hold you to it,” he snapped his fingers, and was basically beaming now. It only made you form more visible heart eyes. “But for now, I’ll see you at Jake’s party,”
“Deal.”
That day, you left the library with a lovesick smile instead of a book. You didn’t even get annoyed after knowing it was too late for a trip to the pool, and obviously Yunjin caught onto that. On the walk home, you thought about him and the party. Anxiety and anticipation were both building up, until he came up in mind again and everything disappeared.
You got lovestruck and it went straight to your head. It was almost the first time you’ve actually felt the way you’re feeling now, nobody had once made you fully experience every emotion of having a crush in your years in high school. No one was even capable of it, that was until Jay appeared into your life.
Going to bed that same night, you thought of him again. At that point, you wondered if he would materialise in your bedroom from the amount of times you had him in your head. Maybe he’d be accidentally manifested into life.
Tossing and turning, you kicked your feet at the imaginations you had of him. Upon realising your own behaviour, you covered your face with a pillow and screamed into it. Were you crazy? Oh my God, you were!
Then it hit you.
You’re admitting this now. You like Park Jong Seong.
“I can’t believe we’re here,”
Yunjin was currently having the best of her life even though nothing has happened yet and you both had just arrived at Jake’s house.
The walk in was already shocking. On the lawn of Jake’s house were knocked out drunks, then by the door were people making out and doing weird things you didn’t want to think of again. You were surprised that everything happening before you was something you’ve seen in movies and you were actually experiencing that now.
“Is this even … legal?” you glanced around, cringing at the tacky set ups and badly picked music in the background.
“No. But you’ve drunk before, so who are you to say?”
“Touche,”
Wandering further into the house, you realised there were many people here, but you weren't surprised at all. Jake was a well known footballer anyway, how could he not be popular in the first place?
"Y/N!"
At the sound of your name being called, you looked over your shoulder to see Jay approaching you. His eyes carried the same kind of brightness he has around you, the corner of his lips were curved up into a wide smile. Let's not forget how he has his hair styled up at that moment. Was he expecting you to not feel anything?
"Jay! Hey," you waved meekly at him until he was standing before you. You noticed his gaze on your friend who was standing beside you, a look of unfamiliarity clearly written in his expressions. "This is Yunjin, by the way,"
Yunjin and Jay both greeted each other amicably, though a little awkward but it was natural for it to be like that. Jay turned to look at you, eyebrows raised. "This would be a great chance to introduce my friends but—"
"Jay!"
"I take that back,"
You and your friend exchanged a brief look, stifling your laughter at Jay's demeanour. He was flailing his hand to get his friend to come closer, and by then, you could recognise who it was.
"Bro, why were you running around all night? Were you expecting someone—oh, hey," Jake, the host of the party and the popular footballer, had finally taken account of you and your friend's presence. "I'm Jake, nice to meet you,"
"Likewise, I'm Y/N,"
"Yunjin,"
"Y/N and Yunjin, you guys are new faces around here,"
"It's not really our scene," you nudged Yunjin a little, and she nodded in agreement. It's true, you and her equally preferred a night in with a romcom playing than this. But you'd make it an exception this time, and maybe the next time for Jay's party.
"You're always welcomed. Any friend's of Jay or friend's of Jay's friend are welcomed to our party," Jake patted Jay's back, while the latter only rolled his eyes at his friend.
"Jake! Your toilet's clogged—" another one you recognised to be a part of the friend group appeared out of the blue. It was Sunghoon. Star hockey player and basically every girl's crush, he was known for his wits, charming good looks, and crazy hockey skills, duh.
If you told yourself from months back that you'd somehow become friends with Jay and meet his friends, you'd think you're crazy.
"Hey, sorry," Sunghoon winced, but gave Jake a pointed look after. Jake scoffed in annoyance, then left with a huff and a wave of goodbye to you and Yunjin. "Sorry 'bout that, I'm Sunghoon,"
"I'm Yunjin," when did she become this bold? Whatever it was, you were willing to support her.
"I'm Y/N,"
"You're Y/N?" Sunghoon gasped quietly, glancing between you and Jay, interest forming in his head.
Jay slapped the back of Sunghoon's head, and in the midst of the latter's grumbles, he could only smile awkwardly at you. "Shut up," he hissed to Sunghoon.
"First, ouch. Second, whatever," Sunghoon bumped Jay roughly with his shoulder. "Wanna get some drinks?"
"I'm fine, I'll pass. Maybe Yunjin can go along with you?" You eyed Yunjin, and you saw her giving you those 'i owe you my life' type of eyes.
"Sure," Sunghoon smiled at Yunjin, but gave Jay a firm nudge, his gaze alone conveying the message. Apparently bro telepathy was a thing, because in a few seconds, he decided Jay was staying with you and wandered off along with your best friend.
"It's just us two now," you said, as if it wasn't already obvious.
"Yeah," Jay was equally stiff as you were. "Sounds crazy, but do you want to go up to the room? It's a little loud here,"
"I don't think it's 'a little' but totally, sure. Lead the way," you figured Jay was familiar with his way since it was quite literally his best friend's house.
He wordlessly took your hand and intertwined it with his. It was so casual and sudden that it was unexpected, knocking the breath out of you. He made sure you were walking in front of him the whole time, hand never leaving yours and only gripping tighter as he held you close to avoid the crowd.
In a world of boys, he was a gentleman.
He eventually brought you to a quiet room down the hall upstairs, into a bedroom that was decorated much simpler. You guessed it was the guest room, it would've made most sense.
"Do you normally bring girls here?"
Jay's face contorted into a mix of shock and disbelief, arms thrown into the air. "What—no!"
"Really?"
"What makes you think that?"
You shrugged, taking a seat on the bed. "I don't know? Well, everyone wants you—"
That was your crime.
"—you're popular, smart, cute, kind and—am I talking too much?" You paused, feeling the bed dip beneath you as Jay joined your side.
"I like it," he hummed, turning to look at you. "I like you,"
You blinked. One second. Two seconds.
"What?" Your eyes were widening, whereas Jay was just staring back calmly with an unwavering smile.
"I like you, Y/N," the confession rolled off his tongue like a secret he has been keeping for too long. The eyes that were searching for yours were filled with longing and hope.
Was this really happening right now?
"I like you too, Jay,"
It felt like the world had stopped and it was just you and him there. You were taking in his confession and so was he. It might've been silent but it was comfortable.
"Can I—" he leaned in, but stopping just an inch away from your lips. You could feel his breath on yours, noses making contact. That was how close he was.
"Yeah,"
Just before Jay could press his lips against yours, the door burst open and you jumped, literally. You heard a thud too, and realised Jay was on the floor.
You turned to look at the door, finding the culprit standing there awkwardly. It was Jake, and he, too, was self aware that he had crashed an important private moment.
"Uh—I just wanted to find Jay…"
"Jake, if you don't close that door right now, I swear—"
Jay didn't even need to finish his sentence when Jake slammed the door shut, yelling out 'sorry's and saying he'd be waiting for Jay down the hall. Talk about awkward encounters.
You locked eyes with Jay, who looked thoroughly embarrassed but also humoured. It didn't take long before you burst out laughing and he joined along. Soon, he returned to his original spot next to you too.
"That was … bad,"
"It was," you were fidgeting with your hands, suddenly nervous. "I guess the timing wasn't right,"
"It really wasn't,"
Silence fell between the two of you, and there was something in your mind that was bugging you. "Does this mean we're …?" You didn't need to finish what you were saying for Jay to get the meaning.
"I mean, do you want to try it out first? We don't need to rush into anything, don't even need to be official. I just wanted you to know how I feel,"
"I can do slow," you nodded, catching a brief glimpse of Jay.
"I'll always be waiting for you," Jay took your hand in his, and that was when you finally had the courage to meet his eyes again. "Whenever you're ready."
People say dating the popular guy was a bad idea, but for once, you were willing to let loose and give your heart a go.
Who knew the start of your newfound romance would soon blossom into a whirlwind of tears, love, and scandalous teen romance.
"So you're dating him now?"
Having Yunjin scream into your ear in the morning during the first period was not surprising. Maybe telling her everything over the phone and leaving her hanging wasn't the best idea. It wasn't your fault she was hungover anyway.
"Shush! Do you want everyone to know?"
"I'm sure everyone knows by now,"
You gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
"Jake kinda saw you guys, then he blabbered it to Sunghoon, and I guess others heard it because he was not quiet about it,"
Jake. You heaved a sigh, shaking your head a bit. "We're not boyfriend girlfriend official, but just … trying things out, you know?"
"I know," Yunjin let out a satisfied hum. "I think he'd be great for you,"
"Really?"
"He's a nice guy, Y/N. Judging from his reputation, he seems like a good man," Yunjin practically gave you her seal of approval, and it left you feeling happy for the rest of the period.
That was until lunch break where everything fell apart way too fast.
Walking out to the cafeteria, you didn't think much about anything else as you listened to Yunjin rant about her latest online purchase. But the moment you heard Jay's name along with yours in passing, your ears perked up. You thought nothing of it, leading up to Kim Minjeong confronting you head on and you knew that's when you should start worrying.
"Are you … the one with Jay?"
You glanced at Yunjin for a split second, anxiety bubbling in your stomach. "I guess?"
"You're a slut. Don't you know I have a thing for him? There's something call girl code—"
"Woah woah, wait, what? Look, we don't even know you like that," Yunjin quickly butt in upon seeing you fall silent.
"Everyone knows me! Everyone knows Jay and I had a thing! What is it you want? His popularity? Money—"
"Shut up,"
Speaking of the devil.
"You okay?" Jay appeared by your side, gaze softening once it landed on you. "I was searching for you, didn't know this is happening,"
"I—"
"Jay! What are you doing? Why are you with her—"
"Can you just quit it? We've been through this many times, Minjeong. I don't like you and I never have, why can't you just accept it?" He sounded exasperated, almost as if he had been putting up with this for ages. "Put my girl's name out of your mouth and leave her out of this. She's the one I want, not you,"
The only way you could describe Minjeong's face there was rageful. Her expressions were contorted and her lips were etched into a frown. She knew she couldn't defend herself further, so she eventually left with a huff.
It was quite unsalvageable at that point and you felt yourself breaking down from the inside out. Even when Jay called your name, you only shrugged him off and brushed past him. The worst part of all: he didn't run after you either.
Great. Now you were going to spend the rest of the day mulling in bed.
That didn't last long either. Once you got into bed, ready to sleep away from the day's incident and think back to Yunjin's pep talk, you heard your phone buzz. Not once, but multiple times. Who was sending messages at that time? Of course, it had to be him.
jjongster: hey, can we please talk?
jjongster: like right now
you: right now?
jjongster: yeah, send me wherever you're most convenient to meet
This was stupid. Sneaking out of your room when it's dark out and meeting Jay down the street from your house. All when your emotions were not stable and set yet. You've sent him the address and now he's waiting there, standing by his car like a dream.
"Hey," he called out softly as you walked closer to him.
"Hi," you hated this, the sudden stiffness and awkwardness that got between you two, you shouldn't be suffering because of it.
"Sorry for asking you to come out this late," he was quick to apologise, taking a step closer to you. He was always so nice, so kind and loving. "I–it's just eating me up, and I really wanted to tell you—speak to you—in person. I wanted to see you,"
"It's okay, I get it. I'm sorry too, for leaving so abrupt and ignoring you. That was wrong of me to do," you were feeling guilty about what you did earlier, letting your emotions get the best of you and neglecting Jay.
"I understand, don't worry. Are you feeling okay? I didn't expect that to happen, I'm sorry,"
"Don't apologise, it's not on you," you brushed away the strand of hair that constantly fell onto your face, occasionally avoiding his stare. "And I don't know. I don't know how or what to feel,"
He frowned. "Tell me, tell me what's on your mind,"
"Jay, what if this was all a bad choice? You're you, and I'm … me. You're the golden boy, everyone wants you! Now they're talking behind our backs and all I do is hear rumours that aren't true, names being called …"
"It's not a bad choice, Y/N! I want you … so much. No one else compares. Can't you see that?" Jay moved closer to you, his hands now on both your shoulders. "Don't push me away now,"
Jay was taking his chance, and you thought it was a big mistake, but he doesn’t. It might blow up in his pretty face, and you didn’t tell him straight on to do it anyway, yet you knew he was going to and he wasn’t going to care what others think.
"I could never," you shook your head, welcoming his embrace as he pulled you in, and before you knew it, the tears you held in all day started streaming down your cheeks.
He held you there on the pavement as you broke down in his arms, his hold on you never once loosened. There that night, under the starry sky and illuminating street lights was a connection and trust formed unknowingly between you and him, love that blossomed like a flower in spring.
"Gosh, I probably look stupid right now crying," you chuckled, pushing yourself slightly off of him to glance at his face.
"You look pretty, gorgeous to me," his thumb travelled to your cheeks, wiping away the tears that remained.
"I shouldn't have said that … us being a bad choice," you said quietly, cursing internally that you've even doubted it in the first place. "I trust you, Jay, I do,"
"Thank you," his hand travelled down to hold onto yours, a smile ever so soft. "We'll go at your pace. Whenever you're ready,"
"Whenever I'm ready." you repeated, unable to stop yourself from smiling either.
Jay knew he was already in deep, experiencing feelings he's never felt before in his eighteen years of life, but seeing you then, made him realise maybe young love was something to believe in. For once, he had a love to fight for.
Jay was true to his words. He, in fact, did throw a party at his place. But what he didn't tell you was the cleaning up, and boy, was it a headache.
Once everyone had filed out a little after midnight, it was only you and Jay left. It was peaceful. In an empty house that had music blasting in the background, you and Jay each struggled to pick up all the rubbish strewn. You liked this. You like him.
It might've taken a while, but eventually you had the place cleaned, or at least, rubbish-less. There was probably more deep cleaning needed (that was for the next day to worry about). However, for now, it was finally just the two of you, and a whole lot of space with nothing to do.
"Wanna go for a dip?"
"Now?" You glanced at the clock, then back at Jay, who was trying to convince you with his starry eyes and nodding his head like an overly enthusiastic puppy. "Fine."
You didn't even know why you agreed to it. It was a lucky decision you brought an extra pair of everything since you were staying over.
Jay was already in the pool, floating around when you walked out. The light coming from the pool was the only thing providing light. Blue reflection and wet messy hair made Jay increasingly dreamy, till the point where you stood there for a bit too long and he had to call for you.
"Coming!" You huffed, but the moment you reached the edge of the pool, you found yourself stuck and feeling nervous.
The sight of Jay's bare front and your lack of clothing was nerve wracking to even think about. Your mind was in a fuzz even as you accepted his hand and let him pull you in, the cool water invading your senses.
His arms came to wrap around your waist, the only thing you could hold for support was his bicep, so that was what you reached for. Jay didn't mind, he only held you tighter, a conspiring glare glazed over his eyes.
"Hey," he tilted his head, gaze travelling all over your features. You were close, very close. It was almost as if you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.
"Hi," you whispered back. Your hand was on its own journey, absentmindedly moving to his shoulder.
You should be dying out of anxiety by now, or even freak the fuck out, yet, you successfully kept your composure, in front of a hot man. Hooray!
"How's the water? I swear it's clean. I gated it off before the party,"
You laughed, remembering how Jake was so insistent on keeping the pool part of the party. He claimed that a pool party was way cooler than just a regular party. Jay was not convinced.
"It's nice. Chilly,"
Jay nodded for a bit, pursing his lips, thinking for a beat. "I'm glad you were here today,"
"Why?"
"I just like having you here, that's all,"
"You're so cheesy, it's annoying," you joked lightheartedly, knowing you secretly enjoyed this side of him.
"Whatever, you tolerate it anyway,"
He was right, you did. Over the few months, you've grown to memorise and remember every part of Jay. His habits, his likings, et cetera. It was crazy how your relationship grew with time, but the much crazier part was the fact that you two had not gone official yet.
"Against my will,"
"That's a lie,"
"Whatever you say," you said in a sing-song tone, which only made Jay roll his eyes, reaching up to pinch your cheek.
His gaze never left yours, not even once. It was trained on you, always had been and always will be. The eventual silence got to you, and it was just the distant noise of the water that filled the air.
It was one of those moments where you think 'was this real'. Spoiler: it was. He was testing the waters, you could tell, and you let him.
Jay inched a little closer, eyes flickering between you and your lips. It was obvious that he was nervous from the shaky breath and wavering confidence, but it only made you more relieved.
You let out a breath, meeting his lips halfway. At first, he was shocked, you were too, but for different reasons. Kissing him was a breath of fresh air. His lips moved against yours naturally as if it was his first instinct, like he has been waiting for this for ages, which was not entirely wrong. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and you swore you felt yourself imploding.
The moment you two finally pulled away to catch your breath, you could only stare at him and hold onto him tighter as if you were afraid he might not be real. Jay chased after your lips, pressing haste pecks and smiling into every one of them. It was infectious, everything about him was and it had you intoxicated.
You realised at that second that you’d be willing to go against the world for him if you had to. Even if someone called you a ‘slut’ again, maybe it’d be worth it for once, and you knew he’d always be right there to defend you.
“I'm ready,”
“Hm?” he was still in a haze, eyes staring back at you with more than love in them.
“I’m ready to be yours, Jay, I’m serious,”
“You are?”
He has never been so relieved and happy leading up till that moment, just having you in his arms was about to make him burst. All he needed was to see you nod and watch your lips mouthing ‘yes’ as a confirmation before lifting you up, arms tight around you.
Under the moonlit swimming pool, you’ve never been happier.
The night might’ve already ended for others, but to you and Jay, it was still ongoing, and you wished for it to not end. So, there you were, in his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he lay beside you. There was barely any space between you and him, his hand brushed against yours from time to time, neither of you dared to move from your original position.
Half asleep, you were taking your time to do something. You took the chance to move your hand closer and gently made contact with his. It didn’t even take a beat for him to lace his fingers with yours, his grip ever so firm, calloused skin against yours. You could tell Jay was equally drifting in and out of sleep as you were, mind in a haze but awake enough to comprehend that you were next to him and not a figment of his imagination.
“I’m in love with you,”
It was faint, almost a whisper, but a mumble that was audible came from Jay. You turned your head to look at him, even under the dim lights, you were able to see that smile from him. The one that always made him look like a lovesick fool, that his friend would claim he’d have whenever he talked about you; it was a smile only reserved for you, and you were the cause of it too.
“Goodnight,” he mumbled out, eyes remained shut, but the smile stayed.
“Goodnight.”
There in the bed slept two young lovers, a fresh love that was unbreakable that connected the two of you together, all of it was fated. From the clinic to now, it might’ve started at the wrong place but it surely was at the right time, and you were glad to be next to him, hand in hand, anticipating what the future had in store for you two.
( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
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#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfics#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fluff#enhypen scenarios#enhypen#enhypen soft hours#enhypen smau#enhypen x reader#enhypen reactions#enhypen drabbles#enhypen headcanons#jay scenarios#jay x reader#jay enhypen#jay imagines#enhypen jay#enhypen jay x you#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jay park#park jong seong imagines#park jongseong#jay headcanons#enhypen jay drabbles#heeseung#lee heeseung#heeseung scenarios#heeseung fanfic#heeseung imagines
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𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍 | torture + non-con
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — art the clown x fem!reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, art the clown in general, torture, non-con, slight kidnapping (?), bondage, knife play, blood + blood play, violence, fingering (not sanitary knowing art, wash yall’s hands !!), slight dacryphilia
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — foreword, i do NOT condone anything in this fic ! david howard thornton himself actually said art would be against this and i find art a comfort character, this is just for kinktober purposes 😞 if you guys are NOT comfortable with non-con or torture please do not read this, spare yourself the pain please i beg 😭 i will not be upset bruh
you were a force to be reckoned with, that much was evident.
whether it was because you were drunk or with a friend group that made peer pressure feel good, it didn’t matter to the black and white clown you approached at the club. he had been standing there for the past hour or so, staring at you through the split in the crowd.
obviously he had a crush on you. that was what your friend whispered in your ear with a little nudge to your side and a drunken giggle.
your devil costume left very little to the imagination, faux red leather hugging your curves. that had to be it, without a doubt. you had already been getting attention throughout the night, so this was only more fuel to the fire that was your ego.
his costume was detailed to say the least. the fake blood on his costume looked rusty as opposed to the cherry coloring on everybody else’s clothes and faces. he must’ve made it himself.
it took a few more pushes of encouragement until you finally went up to him, wondering why he was unable to take his eyes off of you. it wasn’t flagged as creepy in your fogged mind, rather flattered.
“you’ve got a staring problem, don’t ya?” you shouted over the music with a giggle, leaning against the bar counter for support. your high heels definitely didn’t cheap out on the high part.
looking at him up close definitely made your mind wander a little more. he was much taller than you — likely over six foot — and seemed pretty lanky under that suit. his eyes were a brilliant blue, starkly contrasting the black makeup neatly circled around them, and they couldn’t seem to get away from you. his hooked nose, as well as his entire face, was painted white and had a singular black dot on the tip of it.
something about him piqued your interest, and it only grew when he didn’t answer you. instead, he smiled and tilted his head down, like he was feigning some bashfulness. it was cute. you respected the commitment to the act.
“i don’t suppose you want something from me?” those drinks you had earlier were kicking in, making your confidence soar to unnatural heights. “what’s your name?”
you expected him to drop his little facade and lean in and tell you. but he didn’t. he reached for your wrist and shifted your palm upwards. you were beyond curious, but allowed him into your space.
he dragged his finger across your palm a few times, you piecing the motions together. a-r-t. “art. oh, your name’s art?” the clown nodded with a wide grin.
that wasn’t his last trick, it seemed. from the palm of his hand, he revealed a fake red rose. the synthetic petals were slightly crumpled and stained with drops of something even darker than its natural color.
it was a little corny, but you blushed nonetheless. it was sweet. he gestured for you to take it, so you did.
“hey, let’s get outta here. the music’s making my head hurt.” the second part was a lie, but your motives were relatively pure. you thought that he was only silent because of the volume. maybe the fresh air would make him open up a little bit more.
art nodded a little too eagerly and started moving you towards the door. you could only give your friends a very brief glance, them offering you smiles and raised thumbs before you vanished outside. you would soon wish that they’d kept you inside.
you took in a deep breath of fresh air outside, observing the parking lot. there was not a person in sight. they were all inside. except for you and art.
art. you spun around to see where he had gone and found him hunched over a black trash bag. initially, you were going to pull him away from it, thinking he was digging through waste when he suddenly straightened up and turned towards you. his hands were behind his back.
words got caught in your throat and you found yourself laughing to fill the silence. a wave of anxiety washed over you until art revealed another fake rose. this one was attached to a plastic stem.
but while you graciously accepted his second offering, you failed to notice the bat he had brought down onto the side of your head.
—
you never had a concussion in your life, but you were sure this was what it felt like.
you awoke to a blinding headache and nausea bubbling in your stomach. your vision refused to adjust properly, but you couldn’t miss art’s black and white suit in front of you. your depth perception wasn’t the most reliable, but your body knew to start acting.
you went to kick and scream but found it futile. duct tape muffled your cries, though it was ripped off faster than you could register it was there, and thick rope around your limbs kept you still against the table you were draped over. a few blinks helped you understand your predicament: you had been moved to some sort of warehouse and were tied down to a cold, steel table that had goosebumps prickling on your exposed skin.
your clothes were intact, which made you sigh. one victory.
though you weren’t sure for how long. art hovered over you from the side of the table, his sick grin mocking you as he eyed you from head to toe. it felt like he had already undressed you just by the way he was sizing you up.
that came next. with his one hand that was free, he started to drag his finger down the center of your chest. the closer he got to the low-cut hem of your top, the louder your protests became. art was prepared for that.
he brought a thick chain with several rusted scalpels and medical scissors down onto your legs, creating multiple shallow breaks in your skin. you screamed out. he whipped you again. this time you bit back guttural cries and accepted his hand.
his face screamed disgust and disbelief, like he couldn’t believe that you would ever ask him to stop. the way his creased white face morphed was eerie. it rendered you silent while he unzipped your tiny red corset.
you flinched when it popped open, exposing your tits. you hurried to cover yourself but your arms only moved as far as the rope allowed you to. either way, art flung his chain at the arm closest to him and you had to choke back a scream.
blood seeped from countless wounds, warmth running down and onto the table. you squirmed and cried as much as art allowed you to. he seemed to enjoy your agonized writhing, running dirtied fingertips over your open cuts.
“please, please,” you whined. it was mindless rambling at that point because you knew he wouldn’t.
he had shifted his attention down to your pleather skirt, slowly undoing the zipper on the side. you wanted to kick and fight but you dreaded the idea of getting cut into even worse. so you let him peel it off of you, along with your panties.
“oh god, oh god,” you sobbed, clamping your legs together to keep some of your dignity. art must have been keeping a spare blade tucked in his hand because suddenly he sliced deep into the side of your thigh. you couldn’t help the scream that tore from you, which earned you another gash along your ribcage.
you started to think he was bleeding you dry as slowly as he could. but not after he had his fun first. your body shook underneath his gloved hand as it traveled down your stomach and towards your bare pussy.
part of you thought he was going to force your legs apart and jam as many scalpels inside of you as he could manage, so you resisted when he tried to pry them open. but when he did, after lashing you a few more times, he ran his blood soaked fingertips through your folds, making it slick for him.
it was nauseating at first. but after he pushed two fingers into you, the strange sensation of his fingerless gloves sliding inside, that feeling simmered into pleasure. you choked on a whine, your body fighting the urge to roll your hips into his hand.
your skepticism prevailed the second he slid his blade across your stomach. you cried out, and art felt your cunt squeeze around his fingers. the reaction was satisfactory to him and he gave you a few more markings before deciding you’d had enough for now.
the blade clattered onto the table a moment later and his freed hand went to your breast. you couldn’t deny what it did to you. the pain was beginning to make you delirious and you melted into his touch a few times. you pulled against your restraints but it didn’t get you very far.
for a while, he worked into a steady pace that had you crying out with more pleasure than pain. your cuts stung, but those sharp pains added to your rapidly building orgasm, that was only really accumulating with your eyes closed.
art didn’t seem to appreciate that, quickly finding his blade and carving something into your skin. it tore you out of your momentary tranquility and a scream ripped from your throat. as you did, his other hand curled inside of you and a moan fought to follow. pain and pleasure battled inside of you, and it was sick that the pleasure was threatening to win.
your body twisted to get away from the scalpel in your side but it was to no avail. he cut and sliced until he had crudely carved the word “CUNT” into the fleshy part of the side of your waist. blood oozed out of the deep gashes and art ran his gloved hand through it, smearing it all over your skin. crimson covered your breast as he came up to grab it again.
you got the message to look him in the eyes while you came, which came soon after he added a third finger. how he was able to do it with ease made you sick. you shouldn’t have been enjoying yourself in any way. you would probably need stitches and therapy after this.
but now, all you could focus on was his long fingers. the feel of his fabric white fingerless gloves inside of you, probably soaked with your blood and slick. your gashes burned every time your back arched off of the table but somehow, it intensified the growing fire in your stomach. that tensing of your thighs, the weak thrusts of your hips that attempted to match his.
it amazed you how he was still silent, blue beady eyes focused on you and only you. they started to widen when your moans went pitchy, like he was encouraging you to let go. he didn’t look so scary then. his face went closer to yours, and he was shocked that you didn’t immediately flinch back.
he offered you slow nods as his fingers continued their assault on you. your thighs parted in acceptance and defeat, your orgasm finally crashing into you. moans came out mingled with sobs because it was over.
your mind was spinning, and he granted you a moment to compose yourself before getting back to work. breathy pants quickly turned into raspy screams once more as he swiftly carved something else into the bloodied inside of your thigh:
ART WAS HERE
#art the clown#terrifier#terrifier smut#art the clown terrifier#terrifier art#terrifier art the clown#art the clown x reader#art the clown x you#art the clown smut#horror kinktober#horror smut#slashers#slasher smut
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Warrior!Penelope God Games
After writing Odysseus's Challenge, I was still on a creative high & decided to do this too. NOTE: The swaps between gods were taken from @too-much-flynnolium’s art.
[ARES]
Mother, God Queen, rarely do I ask for favours
Now, I'm kneeling on your floor
With hopes to save a friendship
With one who's a prisoner far from home
Penelope
[HERA]
Divine intervention, so that is your wish?
To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?
You are braving such dangers for a girl full of shame
But if she's worth the risk of going under
Why not make it a game?
Convince each of them that she ought to be released
And I'll release her
[ARES]
Who's them?
[HERA]
Artemis! Hestia!
Dionysus! Athena!
Demeter! Or me
What do you say?
[ARTEMIS]
Sure.
[HESTIA]
Very well.
[DIONYSUS]
Hic!
[ATHENA]
Alright.
[DEMETER]
Interesting.
[ARES]
Bring it.
[ARTEMIS]
You all know I'm a fan of nature and all
So with so many sirens gone
I think Penny's in the wrong
[ARES]
They had planned to do their worst
All she did was reimburse them
Now they'll tread with caution first
To live another day and sing even more verse!
[ARTEMIS]
Good point, release her.
[HESTIA]
Trust is not wasted, it’s forged
Why should I give her my support?
She turned her back on her cohort
[ARES]
Did you forget they failed to listen?
She was betrayed and now imprisoned
But if you make the right decision
She can still have a future with those who miss her!
[HESTIA]
Fine, release her.
[DIONYSUS]
Your little high and mighty Penelope
Claims to love another, but keeps him chained to a broken heart
[ARES]
She was busy fighting
[DIONYSUS]
More like busy spiting the cyclops
Let her feel the pain that the others feel and rot
[ARES]
Wait!
You must reconsider this!
[ATHENA]
Really now, Ares, no new tricks?
[ARES]
Athena!
[ATHENA]
What kind of so-called fighter holds back her power
Just lets her friends get devoured?
She couldn’t fight Scylla, but didn’t even try to outwit her
Hides with naught but a sword to get the job done
Tries to handle things upfront
Dim-witted and weak like her son
[ARES]
Hold your tongue now, her son's my friend!
And tell that drunkard that all kinds of hurts can mend
You want more mind games? Then set her free
To get back to her homestead, she'll make everyone’s brains bleed!
[ATHENA & DIONYSUS]
Then release her.
[DEMETER]
So many talents, so many tales
Give me one good reason why yours should prevail
[ARES]
She's got the hands of a weaver!
[DEMETER]
Dig deeper
[ARES]
She's pretty skilled with words!
[DEMETER]
You can do better than that!
[ARES]
She's very sassy…?
[DEMETER]
Eh
[ARES]
Never once does she give up on her child.
[DEMETER]
Release her.
[ARES]
I’ve played your game and won! Release her.
[HERA]
You dare to defy me? To give me more shame?
No one beats me, no one wins my game!
Marriage, bring her through the wringer
Show her I'm the judgement call
The one who makes the final call!
.
.
.
.
[ATHENA]
Is he dead?
.
.
.
Penelope had told Ares that for mothers, childbirth in itself was a difficult battle and the parenthood that came after a race with no finish line in sight. Personally, Ares would’ve likened it to war. If family had truly been something as linear as a race then surely Hermes would be on their father’s throne by now.
She placed her spawn in his arms. Said spawn miraculously didn’t squirm or squall against his battle-hardened muscles and cold gauntlets.
“His name is Telemachus.” Far from battle. The irony wasn’t lost on anyone. Then again, considering how eerily squishy the infant was, perhaps the name was fitting.
Ares blinked as tiny fingers gripped his, the pudgy digits unable to full wrap around it. Yet, the grip was strong. No, it was simply alive. He’s bathed in blood so often that he’s forgotten even the tiniest of hearts can still beat.
“Telemachus.” Penelope and Odysseus smiled. Smiled at him, smiled because of him. They were happy. He was happy.
.
.
.
[ARES]
Let her go…..please
Let her go……
#epic the musical#warrior!penelope#role swap au#god games#ares#hera#dionysus#artemis#demeter#hestia#athena#song rewrite#epic the wisdom saga
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Batboys as scenes from my favorite romance novels
Even when you’re alone, it’s like your love is torn from a page.
Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne x fem!reader
Contains: A very self-indulgent author. Scenes inspired by trashy Regency/Victorian romance novels. Oral sex (f!receiving) in Dick’s and (m!receiving) in Tim’s. Praise kink in Dick’s. Blindfolding, bondage, and vaginal fingering in Damian’s.
Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Scenes are inspo only, not direct quotes. I swear I can write cute smut. I have so many other favorite books and could do this another two times at least.
BRUCE WAYNE 💋 When He Was Wicked by Julia Quinn
“Do you ever wonder what I think about?” Bruce murmurs, head buried in your neck. He refuses to touch you with his lips, only ghosting his nose over your sensitive skin; you feel his breath, warm and lightly spiced, fan over your collarbone.
He lets out a low sigh that covers your chest like a blanket, and your heart echoes the way his breath trembles. Whatever control he thinks he has most of the time—it’s completely gone with you.
“Do you wonder,” he continues, “what I wish I could do to you?”
You’re laying back in his bed and he kneels between your thighs, supporting your back with one hand while his fingers absentmindedly toy with the zipper on the back of your dress. Like this, he notices everything about you: the way your hair sits, the warm sparkle in your eyes, the way your lips part with every breath.
And you look so unbearably kissable that he’s fighting against his baser instincts.
“I would start right here,” he answers himself, finally pressing his lips against your shoulder. You shiver in reply, and a low chuckle slides out of his throat. “I would kiss every inch of you. Twice. I’d figure out where to bite you to make you squeal, where to lick to make you whimper. I’d have you come undone on my tongue—and I think you’d like it. Maybe you’d like it so much that I’d have to do it again.
“And then I’d sit you in my lap,” he rumbles, lips pressed underneath your ear while he finally, finally, unzips your dress. His eyes are half-lidded, his mind just as hazy as yours is. “I’d fill you so completely, darling; your heart, your thoughts. I’d make every one of your breaths mine—forever, if I could.”
DICK GRAYSON 💋 Heartbreaker by Sarah MacLean
“Here, baby, give me your— Yeah, just like that.”
The second Dick says that, your breath catches and you feel yourself tense. Heat washes over you from cheeks to toes, and you let out a soft whine that makes blue eyes dart up to your own. All he did was ask you to move your leg, then take your thigh in his hand to bring it over his shoulder.
His eyes glint and he smiles like a kid on Christmas. You just gave him a fun new trick to use on you.
“Oh baby,” he croons. “You’re gonna be such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
You whimper. “Dick, please—”
While his cheek presses against your thigh, his smile is nothing less than devastatingly sweet. “I know, baby; I know.”
He watches you like you’re a work of art, like he’s in awe of every breath you take. Eyes locked on yours, he kisses his way from your knee to the juncture of your hip and thigh, then lets you watch as his tongue darts out from his lips and laves over your soft mound. You tense, shivering, and nudge your hips just a little closer to his lips.
“Oh, good girl,” he groans as if your eagerness is bringing him pleasure. He rewards you, then, with a languid lip up your folds, another groan, and a muffled murmur of, “Look how you squeeze me when I praise you, baby. Fuck, just like that; just like that. Wanna feel you nice and tight, can you do that for me?”
JASON TODD 💋 Scandal in Spring by Lisa Kleypas
“I’m here,” Jason murmurs near your ear, lifting his lips only as high as is necessary to whisper to you. In a second, his mouth is on you again, kissing down your jaw and throat until his face is buried where your neck and shoulder meet. In one swift, light motion, he tugs your shirt down so he can mouth over your skin, and your heart begins to race.
Because, just a few hours ago, you were under the impression he was dead.
Equal parts astonished and worried, you brush your hands over the angry bruises purpling on his skin. You don’t know what to say except, “Please be real.”
“I’m real,” he instantly replies in a shaking voice, kissing down your chest until he reaches the point of a nipple and sucks it into his mouth. Warmth blooms where his lips meet your skin, and you know for certain that this can’t be a dream; your imagination has never been so vivid.
“I’m real,” he repeats. “Feel me.”
“But you’re covered in cuts—”
His eyes, glinting in the moonlight that streams through your window, dart up to your face. He looks at you the same way you look at him: as if you’re newly aware of how lucky the two of you are.
“They don’t matter,” he promises. He takes your chin in one of his hands, and you feel his fingers—rough with scars, freezing cold—as they slide toward your neck. “You’re all that matters, baby. I’m not going anywhere without you, understand?”
TIM DRAKE 💋 Devil’s Daughter by Lisa Kleypas
“Oh fuck,” Tim murmurs behind you. At first, you think it’s in ecstasy, given the fact that he has you bent over a low bookshelf with his cock shoved mercilessly in your cunt.
But then he repeats himself, and you turn your head—but you can only catch a glimpse of how his lips are pressed tightly together. “What’s wrong?”
He huffs out a self-conscious laugh. “Do you have any tissues?”
Huh? “No, I don’t think so—”
“I forgot,” he declares around the thick lump of embarrassment of his throat, while letting his head unceremoniously fall on your shoulder, “a condom.”
“Oh,” you say, and then you start to laugh. Here you are, having sex where you definitely shouldn’t be—in a private study room in the library—and of course this happens. It’s too funny. Perfect, even.
“That’s okay,” you assure him before you wriggle and turn in his arms. With gentle hands, you touch his hips and nudge him backwards; now, he’s the one against the wall instead of you, and you smile up at him while you drop to your knees. Biting your lip, batting your eyelashes, you have the perfect solution in mind.
All his mortification goes up in a puff of smoke when you take his cock—so pretty, pink-tipped and bobbing against his thigh—in one of your very capable hands. Leaning forward, you kiss up the shaft until your nose meets coarse, intimate hair; then, you kiss down again and wrap your lips around him, drawing precum and a soft moan out of him with your first curious, teasing suck.
DAMIAN WAYNE 💋 Widow in Emerald by Scarlett Peckham
You don’t know him, but that makes it better. You’re blindfolded before he ever enters the room, and his hands are cool to the touch and efficient in every movement as he binds your wrists to the four-poster bed.
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t kiss you. That’s the arrangement you have: you place your trust in this stranger as a means of learning how your body finds release. He, for whatever reason, wants to make music out of your whimpers and moans.
His weight shifts, and you feel him slide in between your thighs. His fingers spread atop your bare chest, and you marvel at how big his hands must be for his thumb to reach one nipple while his little finger grazes the other. He puts just a hint of pressure on your sternum, then drags his hand down your stomach until his palm cups your sex.
Cold. His fingers are cold as ice, and you wonder if he’s just like that, or if he did something to his hands before his time alone with you.
With a flick of what feels like a sturdy yet nimble wrist, two fingers spread your folds, gathering your beginning wetness and exposing you to the air of the room—no, that’s his breath, and you feel the sensation of menthol when he breathes a sigh against your clit. Those same two fingers slip into you now, and you shakily sigh. The pace of his breaths becomes your own as he sends waves of pleasure through you, fingers moving in and out in a slow rhythm that draws a veil between who you are outside this room and who you’re meant to be within it.
#bruce wayne x reader#dick grayson x reader#jason todd x reader#tim drake x reader#damian wayne x reader#batman x reader#nightwing x reader#red hood x reader#🌸— mine.#🌸— bruce wayne.#🌸— dick grayson.#🌸— jason todd.#🌸— tim drake.#🌸— damian wayne.
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you give me bad ideas
cw: 1.5k wc, female reader, reader has a vagina, NSFW, handjob, dry humping, slight fingering, pet names, established relationship, sanemi is as needy as an inappropriately horny boyfriend in the middle of the night can be and you're just gonna have to deal with it i guess
thank you a million times @erexart for this GORGEOUS WORK OF ART OF A BANNER i will stare at it for the rest of my life and then some more!!!!! thank you @katsulock for reading this and sharing your precious opinions i'm truly so lucky to know you and have your support
“Sanemi, no” you hiss but it’s quiet, you don’t even peel your eyes open to further underline how serious the ban is. He huffs into your hair from behind and it’s not long before he resumes his ministrations, lips gently tracing your spine with featherlight kisses that eventually rise up to your neck.
“No, what?” he whispers, faux innocence laced into his tone “I’m not doin’ anything” and just like that, his hands skim under your shirt, gently caress your tummy with a touch so warm and familiar it makes you sigh.
“Behave” you lazily grab one of his wrists, knowing all too well it’s going to do absolutely nothing to stop him “Genya is literally sleeping in the next room, I’m not risking your brother hearing us”
“So be quiet” Sanemi’s free hand rises up ever so slightly, thumb tentatively grazing the portion of skin he’s so used to grabbing “I’ll make sure none of your usual pretty whimpers slips past those lips” his warm breath on your neck elicits a shiver that only makes him smile.
“I cannot believe you” it’s nothing but a weak, annoyed yet fond groan. A soft chuckle vibrates in the wide, solid chest pressed to your back.
“Well, I think you owe it to me”
That’s when you open your eyes and fidget into his hold to turn to look at him, amused lavender gaze reciprocating your outraged one.
“I beg your pardon?”
Sanemi hums, seizes the opportunity to press his lips to your forehead as his arms further close around your waist and you’re pulled in tightly. “Don’t play coy. Can’t feel what you’re doing to me right now?” a familiar hardness is now pressing against your ass and it takes everything in you not to push your hips further into him “this is all you. I’m so hard it hurts”
As if to underline his point, he grinds against you ever so slightly, just enough for you to feel more of him.
“Sounds like a you problem” you whisper and Sanemi rolls his eyes at your stubborness, pretends not to notice how you’re now absolutely still. Pliant, malleable.
“And if I want to make it our problem?” he presses against you once more, rocks his hips slowly but with intention while keeping you in his iron embrace.
“Fuck” you quietly groan, familiar heat flooding your core “Nemi, we really can’t—”
“Please” he whispers, lips and teeth grazing your ear, hold growing stronger on your hips “need it so bad. Will be quiet, won’t even put it in if you don’t want me to”
“God— fine” you surrender, exasperated, and roll to your side once more “take what you need, then. Quietly”
“That’s my girl” the curve of a smirk where your neck meets your shoulder, his rocking gaining a steadier rythm now “my perfect girl. C’mere” Sanemi cups your jaw with the hand not busy kneading the plush skin of your breast, tilts your pretty face to claim a slow kiss that turns messy, sloppy. It’s rare for him to be this needy, in search of relief for himself. Poor thing. The thought of his gorgeous cock smearing precum against his briefs, bulge pushed over and over into the curve of your ass, the sound of his breathing morphing into raspy pants against your neck… it’s all enough for you to decide to help him out, ass wantonly wiggling over his hardness eliciting a hiss.
“Oh? What’s that?” the lilt lingering in his voice is still infuriatingly amused, in contrast with his hips still desperately bucking upward for friction “changed your mind, princess?”
“You never know when to shut up” you reach behind your back and sneak a hand in between your bodies, fingers curling easily around the ridge of his clothed length “and count your blessings” he curses into your hair when you start stroking him, torturously slow, the way you know it drives him insane.
“Fucking— shit” he ruts into your fist and it makes you hide a proud grin into the pillow.
“What is it? Not so smug anymore, are we?”
“I never need to be, ah, smug about this” he mutters before gently biting down on your neck, tongue warm and sensual easing the stinging pain right after “about how much I need you”
“Tell me how much you need me” you whisper, hand finding its way underneath the waistband of his sweatpants, his cock harder, heavier and quite literally leaking by the time it’s set free. You could get drunk on the moan bubbling up from his chest when you circle the flushed tip with your thumb, a good natured keep it low leaving your lips as you increase your pace ever so slightly.
“Nothing compares” he mutters, voice soft and so close to breaking “not my fist, not your pictures. Need your touch, your mouth, shit, even your voice alone is fucking enough to—” Sanemi is interrupted by his own groan, unable to focus as he shamelessly throbs into your skilled hand as it gathers more precum before squeezing his head once more.
You let him bury the pads of his fingers into your jaw again, kiss him just as desperately while a familiar throb between your legs has your thighs rubbing together. Desire mercilessly licks at your stomach but you don’t give in, not when all you’re focused on is him, getting closer and closer to his peak.
“So good for me” you murmur into his mouth, soft voice dripping with honey making him twitch “my beautiful, strong man. I love you, Nemi” and just like that, with another breathless moan buried into the crook of your neck in an attempt at keeping his promise of being quiet, ropes of hot cum make a mess of your hand.
A series of profanities is hissed into your skin and you relish in the way he still jerks into your touch when you teasingly caress his spent tip, makes you a little sad that you didn’t have the best view of his pretty features drunk on pleasure while stroking him.
“You will be the death of me” his breathing grows steadier at last but you can feel how painfully hard his heart beats against your back, arms possessively tightening around you as he shivers, hands sneaking underneath your shirt once more “I love you” it’s sincere, a declaration that never fails to make your heart flutter despite hearing it so many times each day.
You playfully hum as you retract your hand, chuckle when he groans as you carefully lick your fingers clean, gaze locked to his half lidded one.
“Sleep now” you kiss along his jaw when you’re done, only to then peck his lips to give him a chance to taste himself. Sanemi presses his body against yours with purpose once, still half hard, before gently maneuvering you to roll onto your other side and face him.
“My perfect girl” he repeats, tone gone soft oozing with sheer devotion when he brings you as close as humanly possible to kiss you. It’s slow but deep, tongue entering your mouth and grazing yours over and over again, low groan vibrating against your chest as you card your fingers through his hair and pull at the snowy strands.
“Let me take care of you” it’s a plea barely whispered into your mouth “don’t think I don’t know how wet you are”
“There’s no need, I can—” he swallows your airless gasp with another needy kiss when one of his hands easily slips beneath the waistband of your sleeping shorts and panties, fingers zeroing on your clit by muscle memory and pressing against it. You bury your face into the crook of his neck when he starts making steady circles, a whimper inevitably slipping past your lips.
“You can’t. Not on my watch, not if I’m here” Sanemi nestles his cock between your thighs, painfully close to your still clothed entrance. He’s barely keeping himself from ripping those stupid shorts apart, especially as you grind against him in search for more friction.
“Nemi” you mewl, eyes rolling back when the circles against your sticky clit grow faster, harsher “fuck, please, need you”
“Need me? Where?” he pushes, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth when you scoff.
“Sanemi”
“Answer the question, baby” you jolt against him when he teases your dripping hole with a single finger, barely dipping it in.
“Inside me” it’s a hiss more than a whisper “I need you inside me, you fucking prick”
That’s when he halts his movements, rough fingers taken away so abruptly you emit a pathetic whine. He grabs you by the hips instead, dampness sinking into your heated skin as he forcefully rolls you along his cock, heat stirring in his groin at the thought of just how slippery your folds must be by now, smug grin so close, so discernible even in the darkness of you shared bedroom, you could easily kiss or slap it off his handsome face.
“Why are you askin’ for it?” Sanemi tilts his head to the side a little, impertinence swarming in a darkened violet gaze “come claim what’s already yours”
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WRITE A PART 4 I BEG YOU.
Your favorite patient...
Part 4
Summary: your slave has been a very good boy lately and you decide it's time for a reward
Contains: sub!male! yandere, AFAB!dom!reader(no gender specified), smut, master/slave dynamic, fingering(m!receiving), pegging, praise, degradation, breeding kink
Short note: thank you guys so much for all your support! I really appreciate it!❤️
"What have you done today, baby?" you ask, a smile on your face as you look at the kneeling man in front of you.
"I did the chores, the laundry, I restocked the fridge and I made dinner!" the man answers, eyes full of love and adoration slightly pleading for praise.
You start caressing his cheek and he leans into your touch letting out a contented sound. "And about your body, love? What have you done to keep it beautiful for me?"
He blushes at your question and slightly averts his gaze. "I shaved... everything. And applied soothing lotion...and also used a scrub before you arrived to make sure my skin is perfect for you. I did that after the shower, of course...then a face mask. And...I think that's all"
"Have you touched yourself?" he almost jumps at your sudden question, his eyes filling with apprehension. You chuckle and pinch his cheek hard until he lets out a whine.
"Haven't...only you can..." he whispers.
"Louder, baby and I want you to tell me why only I can"
He lets out an almost inaudible whimper. "You own me...I'm yours...my pleasure belongs to you..."
"That's a good boy" you praise and rub the red spot on his cheek with your thumb. "I think you deserve a reward, sweet thing"
His eyes light up at your words and he starts nodding frantically. "Yes yes yes yes please...yes please...I've been good..."
"Patience, baby" you say and pat his head. He leans into your touch, his body moving towards your hand as soon as you pull it away, eager to feel more of it. You pat the spot on the bed next to you and he basically jumps on the mattress like an obedient puppy. You get up and spread his legs, feeling the man squirm under your touch.
"Mhmm~ what are you gonna do?" he whimpers, big pleading eyes staring right at you. He was laying on his back, arms above his head and legs spread, looking like a piece of art you were impatient to devour yourself.
Your hands slip under his shirt and grope his chest, earning you a moan from your slave. He arches his back, trying to get more of your arousing touches. Before he even realized it, his shirt was on the floor and so were his pants. He lets out a trembling sigh as your hand starts caressing his bulge, your thumb slightly rubbing over his clothed tip.
"Ahh~ ...mhm doctor~ pleaseeee..."
"What is it you need, baby? Hm?" you ask with a heart warming smile on your face that made him weaker than he already was for you.
He blushes and looks away from you, squeezing his eyes shut. Your fingers start playing with the hem of his boxers, threatening to take them off and expose his hard cock. "I thought you were a good boy who deserves a reward, darling. Was I wrong? Are you naughty?" you ask him teasingly.
"No no no" he starts, shaking his head. "I'm a good boy....'m your good boy. I need uhm...I..." He looks at you, eyes filled with tears. Poor boy was so embarrassed about telling you this. Wasn't he so adorable?
"Need...cock...please" he whispers, letting out a whimper as soon as he finishes his words. You chuckle and stroke his thigh lovingly. "Mhm...don't laugh doctor!" he whines, a pout forming on his face which only makes you the more amused.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll give you what you want. How does that sound, sweet boy?" you ask. His face lights up and his hips thrust upwards slightly. You take his boxers off, causing him to let out a moan when his hard dick slaps against his lower stomach, precum sticking to his skin.
You get up from the bed and he whimpers when he sees you open the toy drawer. You grab the harness and his favorite dildo (a pink one with a huge tip, long but not too thick) and you start fastening the belts around your hips.
Soon enough he's already shivering from the touch of the cold lube against his sensitive hole, your fingers skillfully prepping him for the strap. "Mhm~ please..." he begs, giving you those adorable puppy eyes that, combined to the flush on his cheeks and the slight tremble of his lower lip, made you wanna fuck him then and there and forget about this procedure. But you couldn't. You couldn't fathom hurting him.
"Patience baby...we need to stretch you out good for my cock, okay sweetheart?" He nods at your reassuring words, taking deep breaths trying to calm himself down. His dick twitches, his arousal sliding down his length and reaching your fingers, adding to the lubrication.
Once he gets used to your fingers you curl them oh so deliciously inside him and press on his prostate, making him let out a loud whimper. "Ahh~ not so...ngh hard...pleaseee~"
"Oh, did I press too hard, sweet boy? Forgive me" you apologize to the man under you who looked more like a mindless pile of mush than an actual human being. God he was so pretty...You just wanted to hold him in your arms and care for him for all eternity, make him yours, make him yours, make him-
"Ngh-ahh ahh~ f-ahh doctor...!" he moans when he feels the pink fat tip of the dildo penetrate his hole.
"You're so pretty like this, baby" you tell him as you thrust inside him, the toy hitting his soft spot, making his eyes roll in the back of his head. His legs wrap around your waist and pull you towards him in a desperate attempt to feel more of you.
"More ngh~ more! Fuck me~ ahh ahh AHH~...!" And you can't argue with that. He was too fucking perfect. So desperate for you, so slutty for you, so pretty, yours, only yours. You keep fucking him just like he asked, pressing on his lower stomach to feel how deep inside him your toy went and oh god why wasn't it real? Why was life so unfair that you couldn't feel your sweet boy's walls wrap around your cock?
You hated that thought and out of anger and frustration you kept going harder. The bed was creaking, you could feel it underneath you, but his moans and whimpers were the only sound which could be heard in your apartment. You were sure the neighbors will complain again. Fuck the neighbors. All the hatred you had for them, all the hatred you had for every single thing that had made you pissed, you were taking it out on this poor boy's prostate and he was loving every second of it.
"Ahh~ ahh... ngh- plea- more nee-... cock"
"Yeah?" you try to ask him breathlessly. "You like it when my cock fills you up so good? Fucking slut! My slut! Mine mine mine"
"Ahh ngh-ahh wan- ...cum inside...me~ pleaseee"
"You want me to fill you up?" He nods frantically as you ask him this, trying to cover the sounds he was making with your words. "You want me to breed you? Want me to stuff you full of my cum?"
"Yesyesyesyesyes!! Pleaseeee~.....!!"
You didn't even care that it was impossible to get him pregnant. None of you cared about that. You were too lost in the moment.
Before your hand even gets its chance to grab his cock and stroke it, he arches his back and cums all over his stomach and chest. You slower your pace, helping him get down from his high.
"You did great, baby..." you tell him as you slowly slide your strap out of him. He whines a little when he feels you removing it from inside him.
"Mhm doctor...thank you~...I...I love you..."
You look at him with the most loving smile he's ever seen, the most love filled eyes. You caress his cheek gently as you speak.
"I love you too..."
Thank you for reading this and I hope you enjoyed it! You can send me requests for what you want me to write about in the future (this series or anything else)❤️
#yandere fanfiction#sub yandere#sub!yandere#sub!character#dom!reader#dom reader#smut#anime#anime fanfic#anime fic#anime fanfiction#anime smut
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Champ
Summary: Arts wife goes into labor during one of his most important matches and Patrick is caught in the middle.
Art Donaldson x Reader
Okay it’s a little long but I like the way it turned out! Please send requests in!
It was July, it was hot and you were heavily pregnant. The combo did not go well, you were so uncomfortable and anyone around you longer than ten minutes knew it especially Art. Art felt terrible he didn’t know how to help, you were so irritated most of the times he felt like it was his fault. But if he acted like it was his fault you would cry and think your a bad wife so he just kept to himself and did the best he could, doing whatever he could for you.
You and Art had been back at home for a few months and were able to get the nursery all set up and were ready to welcome your baby girl. However Art had one last match before you planned to give birth. The U.S open. Luckily it was right by your house this year so you didn’t have to travel. You were doing your best to support his prep but you were kind of pre occupied.
It was the day before the match, Art was off because he always took the day off before a match to rest and reset,
“Can I get you anything babe?” Art asked you standing up from the outdoor lounge bed. It was a painfully hot day and your air conditioning had broke in your house so you and Art were outside relaxing
“No Art sit down. I should be getting you stuff you have the most important-“ Art cut you off while you tried sitting up
“Hey hey stop, it’s okay just relax, you have something big coming up too so let me take care of you” he said making you lay back down
“Art I’m such a bad wife” you started to cry, you felt pathetic, Art knew the drill
“Baby stop your the greatest wife you know that” Art knew what would make you feel better even if it would make him feel worse “can you… get me some water?” He offered more for you than him. You stopped crying and started to stand up and grab his some water,
“It is so fucking hot!” You yelled aggressively handing your husband your water, “I just need this baby to get the fuck out! My back hurts my feet hurt I’m huge and it’s so fucking hot!” You continued on your hormonal rampage Art stood up letting you finish which he learned was best. He walked up to you and wrapped His arms around you, you slowly gave in Art waited a minute before saying soemthing
“You know it’s so amazing what your doing for our little girl, I’m sorry it’s so hot out. But it two weeks we will get to see Lily, and hold her and I will never let her forget all that you did to bring her into the world.” He softly told you. You loved him so much he always knew what to do
“ I love you Art. thank you I’m sorry I’m such a wreck.” You said into his chest
“You’re allowed to be my love… want me to give you a back massage?” He offered, you just looked up at him smiling already going inside.
“I’ll text Patrick and tell him to bring over all of his fans.” Art said picking up his phone
The rest of the night you spent relaxing as did Art, doing some minor prep things for his huge match tomorrow. You knew he was nervous this is the first open of his career. Patrick had brought over four fans which helped but not much.
Throughout the night you couldn’t sleep which wasn’t unusual for you lately but this was different you were having some pain in your stomach and back. You have had Braxton hicks before but these felt different, you were pretty sure they were real contractions. This couldn’t be happening not now before your husbands big match. You tried to stay calm mabye it would pass and you were just over reacting. You decided not to say anything to Art, he needed to focus. If he knew that anything was wrong he would not play as well. Besides the contraction we’re very far apart and not frequent enough to worry anyways.
You picked out Arts outfit like you always did. Art was leaving before you to warm up and get ready.
“Patrick is gonna pick up in a half an hour, I don’t want you to have to drive right now” he told you, you rolled your eyes playfully at his over protectiveness. You may have protested but you didn’t think it was a good idea to drive either.
“Go get ‘em champ” you whispered before kissing him with your arms around his shoulders, he gave you a nervous smile then leaned down to your bump
“Hey Lily girl wish your daddy luck today, okay?“ he kissed your belly making you smile, she definitely was wishing him luck. Art kissed you once more before leaving. You finished getting ready, you had only felt one contraction since he left about fifteens ago. They were starting to get more intense, you wished Art was here to support you.
Patrick came though the front door as you were leaned over clutching the counter top in the middle of a contraction.
“Fuck y/n are you okay what’s going on!?” He rushed over to you putting his hand on your back, the contraction ended after about 40 seconds
“Yeah I’m fine. I’m just… I’m fine” you stuttered. Patrick looked at you knowing you were lying. He looked terrified “I think I’m in labor” you continued. Patrick’s mouth opened wider
“Well should I call Art?!” He panicked already grabbing his phone
“No! Don’t call him!” Patrick looked at you very confused “he can’t know this is the most important match of his Career he can’t miss it or be distracted. He can’t” you had tears in your eyes because of how terrible you felt that this was happening today.
“Y/n you gotta call him it will be fine” Patrick tried convincing you
“No Patrick! It’s fine the contractions are far apart and spontaneous, it might not even be real, and if it is we’ve got a lot of time so we are going to the fucking match and we are going to support my husband and not take this away from him! So get in the damn car right now so we aren’t late!” You ordered, Patrick hesitated then decided to listen to you. You took a deep breath and headed out to the car as well.
The drive to the stadium you had one more contraction only lasting 30 seconds this made you feel better because you knew they should be one minute before thinking about going to the hospital.
You and Patrick sat in the stands, Patrick keeping a very close eye on you. He was scared shitless and it was obvious. The coin toss just happened art was serving first he saw you in the stands and gave you a smile and a quick wave. You did your best to not look freaked out.
The match was going well art won the first set and they were on to the second it had taken about an hour and you had three more contractions but they weren’t too intense. The two player just started the second set when you felt another one hit you like a train this time in your back too, you gasped grabbing Patrick’s forearm tightly. You looked at you,
“Y/n, Y/n is that another one? Y/n”
“Just shut up” you said through gritted teeth squeezing his arm so tight.
“Pat you gotta do me a favor and time them okay? How far apart they are and how long they last, please” you asked him letting go of his arm.
“Of course. But we really gotta go I think we should at least tell someone on Arts team or-“
“No! It’s almost done he needs to win this I’m fine, my water didn’t even break yet” you interrupted him trying to believe your own words, but as the day progresses you started to panic more. You knew it was the real thing now.
It had only been about an hour but it felt like a lifetime. Art lost the second set so now they had to play a third. Contractions had really started to pick up and you didn’t know how much longer you could last.
“Y/n that’s eight minutes apart. Stop this you have to go.” Patrick told you trying to be firm
“Don’t you want him to win!?” You said in a whisper yell,
“I don’t want you to have his kid in the stands!” He whisper yelled back. A few people around you probably cougt on but you didn’t care.
“It’s almost over. Your supposed to go to the hospital at five minute and eight minutes is not five minutes Patrick” you said clearly not budging on your plan. Patrick put his head in his hands, he was a mess, sweating pale you’d think he was the one in labor.
It had been another hour and the match wasn’t over. Luckily things hadn’t progressed to much probably because you were just sitting this whole time. Contractions were six minutes apart. You were in so much pain you couldn’t believe it. You were trying to hide it from everyone but it was becoming harder. Patrick was bouncing his leg nervously and it was driving you insane.
“Patrick stop.” You said glaring at him
“I’m nervous okay. This is crazy”
“I know it is. But can you just stop being so annoying because I’m nervous too. I’m about to give birth on live television at my husbands tennis match.” You told him, he looked at you realizing he should stop being a baby
“You’re right y/n I’m sorry. It shouldn’t be too much longer now. Can I get you anything a water?” He offered putting his hand on your knee.
“Yes please thank you” you patted his hand but before he could stand up the crowd went wild. To be honest you or Patrick weren’t paying attention to the match at all. You looked down at the court. Art had won. You totally forgot about how much pain you were in for a second seeing the confetti fall down to the courts
“Oh my god Patrick!” You smiled Pulling Patrick in for a hug
“He won he fucking won! He’s won the US open!” Patrick cheered, everything felt unreal until another contraction came crashing through ruining the moment
“Fuck Patrick get Art we gotta go now” you said clutching him to help keep you standing, he held you up until it was over
“Okay I’m going just hold on” he said helping you sit down, Patrick ran down the stairs leaning over the edge to motion art towards him art had just finished shaking his opponents hand than ran over to him while simultaneously looking for you in the crowd. You couldn’t hear what Patrick said you just saw arts face go into shock as he was frozen then Patrick hit his arm and art leaped over the bar into the stands. People were still cheering like crazy. Art found you in the stands and bolted towards you kneeling in front of where you were sitting
“Hey baby what’s going on?” Art said out of breath and panicked
“I’m definitely having this baby now” you said feeling another contraction come on Patrick was right behind Art. Now the three of you had caught some attention. Art looked shocked and confused
“Oh my good um okay I’ll- i um- I don’t hav e my car here fuck” Art stuttered looking like a mess still sweaty from his match and in shock that he’s about to have a baby
“We can take mine come on!” Patrick said both boys helped you up out of the seat. The crowd was still cheering and arts coach’s and team were looking for him, he would explain later. He didn’t care about giving a speech or doing interviews or any of that all he cared about was you.
You all piled into the car after making your way through all the people, people were shouting at Art cheering for him asking for autographs but be totally blocked it all out. Art sat in the back you were in the front,
“How long have your been in labor?” He asked leaning over the seat from the middle
“Since this morning, we’ll kind of last night” you admitted feeling guilty all of the sudden
“What!? Why didn’t you tell me y/n!?”
“I couldnt! You had to play, you couldn’t miss this match Art!”
“Well I can’t miss the birth of our child either!”
“Well you didn’t! And I knew if you knew I was having contractions you wouldn’t play as well, and I haven’t had her yet and you won so we are all winners!”
“Guys! Mabye you should focus on the big picture?” Patrick shouted interrupting you and arts disagreement
“Your right I’m sorry baby, I’m just surprised. Are you okay how do you feel?” Art asked shifting to a calming compassionate tone that instantly made you feel more comfortable.
“I’ve been better. I’m just happy you’re here now. I was starting to freak out I thought the match would never end” you reached grabbing his hand looking back at him he looked at you and smiled
“We’re having a baby y/n” he laughed kissing you. Just then you felt something pop, your legs became wet. Fuck.
“Shit I think my water just broke” you cursed looking at Art terrified, you saw Patrick grimace probably worried about his car seat
“Uh um. It’s okay baby we’re almost there just take deep breaths” Art said stroking your arm. Art was terrified but he knew you were too. He didn’t have time to freak out and he needed to be there for you in case you freaked out.
“Fuck I’m scared Art.” You whimpered you hadn’t even realized how scared you were because you were so focused on trying to get through the match.
“I know. Me too. But your already doing so great. I can’t believe you were doing this all alone”
“I mean I was there too” Patrick chimed in but you both ignored him
“Your gonna be such a good mom y/n I’m so proud of you my love” you spoke softly cupping your face. Another contraction ripped through you the worst one you’ve had yet you let out a gutteral moan grabbing Arts hand, you could hardly breath. You couldn’t talk through it, it was much more intense now.
“Patrick how far away are we?” Art asked trying to stay calm
“ like ten minutes but we’re stuck in traffic so I don’t know” he said also trying to stay calm
“I don’t want to have a baby in Patrick’s car” you cried as you felt the contraction coming to an end
“You’re not baby it’s okay we will be there soon” Art reassured but was terrified you might actually have a baby in his best friends car.
You had been sitting traffic for ten minutes and your contractions were now four minutes apart. You were arched off the seat grabbing your stomach trying to get through the contraction, Art looked like he was about to cry from seeing you in so much pain. Patrick looked angry that there was so much traffic.
“Your doing so good y/n/n, just keep breathing okay?” He said stroking your hair.
“Art what do we do?” You asked scared that the traffic wouldn’t let up
“We um we-“
“Finally!” Patrick yelled seeing the traffic break. Everyone sighed with relief.
You had finally made it to the hospital and were settled in a room laying down with Art kneeling by your head stroking your hair. Art sent Patrick back to let his team know why he left and make sure everything was okay. Your labor seemed to be at a stand still, no progress had been made since you arrived.
“Hey I never told you how proud I was of you champ.” You said facing your husband smiling putting a hand on his face
“Well you were kind of busy” he laughed kissing your nose
“Sorry we couldn’t celebrate”
“This is a pretty good way to celebrate are you kidding?” He chuckled
“We’re gonna be parents. Like tonight” you whispered sweetly to him he had tears in his eyes
“Thank you for going through this all baby I owe you everything” he kissed you.
It had been another hour. Very little progress had been made you were so frustrated and just wanted to get your baby girl out and hold her. They suggested walking around to help move the process along which was the last thing you wanted to do. But here you were walking around with Art right by your side. Another contraction came on and you helped in pain, your arms were around arts shoulders as you leaned down in pain. He held you up and swayed you back and fourth.
“I can’t do this anymore” you cried grabbing your husband for dear life.
“What can I do for you y/n how can I help you babe” he asked wholeheartedly
“Can you help me walk, I gotta hurry this up” you said breathlessly. Art came behind you and wrapped his arms under your armpits and walked with you, pretty much for you. You couldn’t ask for a better father of your child. He was the most supportive guy you’d ever seen. He would do this for hours for you.
Now you were settled back in bed exhausted. It felt like an eternity had gone by but then the nurse came in to check you.
“Alright your ready to push I’ll call the doctor in” she smiled. You were shocked and scared. You looked at Art
“What? I don’t I can’t I’m not ready I can’t-“yes you can y/n. I know you can. Your the strongest person I know you’ve made it this far I’ll be here the whole time.” He instructed you. You looked up at him with tears nodding.
It had been half an hour and you were still pushing not making much progress. Everyone could tell you were exhausted.
“Y/n cmon you have to push harder we gotta get this baby out” the doctor said
“I can’t … I can’t do it anymore” you cried feeling lifeless. Art didn’t say anything he just climbed in bed behind you and straddled you holding you up with his body.
“Now y/n push” the doctor told you again
“Baby look at me just look at me. You can do it only a few more than you’ll be able to hold Lily. Okay? You got this champ” he told you tears in his eyes too. You let your head fall back on his shoulder as you screamed in pain pushing as hard as you could. Art was holding you legs back with his arms around you.
“Good good, just one more y/n” the doctor told you
“Your doing so good darling just one more” art was in tears you couldn’t see but you knew. You have one more push before hearing a very loud cry
“Oh my god” you cried as they Laid your daughter on your chest
“Congratulations you have a little girl. “ the doctor smiled. Art was speechless and balling, he couldn’t believe his baby was here he was holding the love of his life who was holding the other love of his life that you two created together, it was a perfect moment.
“We gotta have more Art she’s so cute” you said crying harder every second, everyone in the room laughed,
“I can’t believe it y/n. Thank you so much thank you so so much” he said crying into your hair. He reached his arm around to the baby who grabbed his finger with her tiny hand. You both cried with joy
“Oh my god look at her fingernails” Art said still in disbelief “there so tiny”
“Art we have a daughter” you said to him as he kissed your cheek multiple times
“Does she have a name?” The doctor asked
“Lily” you both said at the same time smiling. You and Art decided on her middle name a few weeks ago
“Hi Lily Jane” you whispered kissing her head. You were so content with your family. All the pain and tears were 100% worth it.
Later on that night Lily was cleaned and wrapped up in a cute little blanket with a hat on in her dads arms next to the hospital bed asleep. Art was smiling down at her still teary eyed. After examining all your babies features you decided she was a clone of her father. She had your lips but his everything else. Even a little speck of brown in her blue eyes that made your heart swell. You had never been more tired but you also had never been happier.
“She’s so beautiful” Art whispered trying not to wake her up “I could look at her for hours.” He smiled
“She looks just like you baby” you told him, he looked at you then her and smiled
“ I don’t know I see you a lot in her too” he told you. Just then you heard a knock at the door and saw Patrick’s head poke through, he was carrying the trophy Art had won
“Hey I thought I’d bring this by” he said quietly “is now a good time?” He asked softly, you nodded and he came into the room
“Wow.” He said carefully walking over to Art staring at the baby in his arms “She’s uh wow she’s-“
“I know.” You finished knowing his was mezmorized by his niece.
“I’m so proud of you guys” he said speaking from the heart
“You wanna hold her?” Art looked up at his best friend
“Oh I don’t know she looks pretty comfortable”
“Oh come on she’s gotta meet her uncle.” Art said standing up and handing him the tiny baby. Patrick took a deep breath staring at her
“Jesus Art she’s your twin” he laughed “Let’s hope she doesn’t get your ears” he teased
“Yeah Pat your one to talk” he he teased back.
Patrick didn’t stay long it was getting pretty late. You and Art decided to announce it on his social media to fill everyone in on why he rushed out of there after winning. He posted a picture you took of him holding Lily in one arm and his trophy from that day in the other. He captioned the picture with
@ArtDondson:
I didn’t think my day could get any better… but it did. Welcome to the world sweet Lily Jane, she’s already our little champ🤍
Of course the post blew up and many people commented and reporters contacted him but he ignored it. At least for now. He had never been so happy with his life than in this moment. This day would go down in history for the Donaldson family.
#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#challengers fic#patrick zweig#art donaldson fluff#tashi duncan#art#challangers#make first x reader
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The Right Decision || ART DONALDSON
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pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader
summary: you’ve come to a big scary decision but it’s okay because Art supports you. no matter what.
tags: married art, working mom female reader, they have kids, basically the conversation that tashi should’ve had with art when he wanted to retire lol
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“I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset. Just listen.”
Art looks away from the tv, his mouth falling automatically into a frown. You stand next to the couch, your fingers fidgeting with your wedding ring. A habit you picked up on when you first got engaged.
“I might cry,” you warn, already feeling the tears sting the edge of your eyes. “But it’s not because I am sad or anything. I just have anxiety.”
His frown deepens and he instantly turns off the television, giving you his full attention. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
With a heavy sigh, you drop down onto the couch next to him. “I’m struggling at work,” you admit, the embarrassment creeping behind your neck like a tick. “I can’t do it anymore. The demand, the constant traveling. It’s keeping me away from you and the boys. I hate it.”
Art scoots closer to you, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We hate being away from you too.”
“I want to be home,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I want to be here for them. I feel like I’m missing out in everything. I want to be a good wife and a good mom. I want to cook dinner and help with homework. I want to clean—god I miss cleaning.”
Art chuckles quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Baby, I-“
You cut him off because you already know what he was going to say. That you should’ve quit that job the moment you found out you were pregnant. But you weren’t a quitter, you saw things through to the end but this… this was just too much.
“Yes, I know,” you say quickly. “I should’ve quit years ago but I just didn’t want to take advantage of you. You trained so hard to be where you are. I’m not entitled to it just because I’m your wife.”
You could feel Art tense beside you, he couldn’t understand how you could think that. With a gentle touch, his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to stare into those ocean eye that made you weak.
“You are the mother of my children and the love of my life,” he firmly states. “You are entitled to every part of me. You took care of me, held it down for us when I first turned pro. Let me take care of you.”
Cue the waterworks. You always told him that if the tennis thing didn’t work out, he could look into being a writer. The sincerity in his voice, the love in his eyes, the kindness of his touch really made you fall in love all over again.
“We have more money than we know what to do with. If it quitting your job brings you peace, then do it. Be a stay-at-home mom or get another job if it’s what you really want. And please, cook for us again, I don’t think I can keep eating dino nuggets.”
A watery laugh escapes your lips as you grab the bag of his neck, pulling him closer. “Thank you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
The sounds of tiny footsteps, thundering down the hallway capture both of your attentions. Your twin boys, Jackson and Eli, burst into the living room.
They are the perfect mixture of you and Art. Their blonde curly locks, your skin tone, his stunning blue eyes and your nose. You couldn’t help but to stare of them in slight awe, eternally grateful to be able to be their mom.
“Mama, look!” Eli exclaimed, climbing up onto your lap. “I drew a dino.”
You took the paper in your hand, gasping dramatically. “Wow, this looks so good bear.”
Jackson, the more reserved of the too, quietly climbed onto Art’s lap. He snuggled into his chest. “I drew something too,” he says, handing a paper to Art.
Art shows you the paper with a fond smile. “Wow, buddy. Is that our family?”
He nods, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, you, me, mama and Eli.”
Your heart swelled at the picture perfect moment. Sitting there basking in the love of your family you realized the decision you had to make. It wasn’t a hard one at all.
“I have some great news,” you say as the four of you cuddle closer. “Mama is going to be home all the time now.”
Eli jumps excited on your lap, his eyes wide and curious. “No more trips?”
“No more trips,” you confirm, ruffling his hair.
Jackson lifts his head from Art’s chest. “Really?”
Art smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Really,” he confirms. “Mommy is ours now!”
The boys cheer, jumping from the couch and pulling your hand. Both of them babbling excitedly about playing and painting and snacks. You turned to look at Art, smiling widely.
“Thank you,” you say, tears threatening to fall again.
He smiles, tilting his head. “No, thank you.”
#married art donaldson#art donaldson drabble#art donaldson oneshot#art donaldson x female reader#art donaldson fanfiction#art donaldson fluff#art donaldson x reader#mikefaist x reader#mike faist fanfic
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Rooted in Love
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Plant!Dad Bucky and he's beefy!)
Word Count: 1,740
Summary: You and Bucky run into each other (literally) while plant shopping.
Author's Note: So a few days ago a friend shared the amazing art done by @nalonzooo and I immediately fell in love with her plant!dad bucky! Please go check out her page, it will just make you so happy! Her art was the inspo for this story and will be for the rest of this Universe- which I already plan to do more of! Thank you all so much for reading and thank you @nalonzooo for sharing your beautiful work! And thank you to my lovely friends @witchywithwhiskey @vonalyn and @biteofcherry for your support and help! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰
Warnings: Fluffy sweet fluff, plants and Alpine!
You hand the money to the cashier with a smile and gently cradle your new plant to your body before walking off toward the car. You’re not paying attention to where you’re going because you’re looking down and cooing over your new friend, a spider plant, whom you’ve aptly named Spidey.
Suddenly the sun goes out of view and a shadow falls over you just before you walk straight into what feels like a wall.
“Oof, shit,” you mutter, juggling your spider plant and thankfully managing to hold on to it. “I’m sorry!” you quickly add, now looking up.
You can barely see the person behind all the green leaves and fronds but you do hear a deep voice say, “no doll, I’m sorry! I can barely see where I’m going and should probably have gotten a cart. Are you ok?”
Your giggle escapes without warning but you assure him you’re fine.
“Um, do you want some help? I only have one plant so I can take one or two off your hands.”
He stands there for a moment, clearly contemplating you’re offer. “You know what, that would be great!” he says finally. “Can you grab the two smaller ones here.”
His body shifts so you can take two plants that are resting precariously on his forearm.
“Sure!”
You reach over and carefully take them from him, revealing something you were not at all expecting.
There’s a fluffy white cat curled up in the crook of his arm, it’s blue eyes peering at you with curiosity.
“Oh how cute!” you squeal.
Plant guy chuckles. “That’s Alpine. He’s very friendly so you can say hi if you want.”
Your hand immediately shoots out to rub Alpine gently on the head and then scratch behind his ears.
“He’s so sweet and handsome,” you gush.
After several moments spent doting on Alpine you realize poor plant guy is still standing there holding way too many plants.
“Oh shit,” you mumble. “I’m sorry! You’re totally standing here waiting to go to your car and carrying a whole forest and here I am just petting your cat like it’s nothing.”
“It’s really ok doll,” he says. “I appreciate the help and Alpine loves the attention.”
You try to peek around the large leaves to get a look at this guy’s face but you can’t really make out more than a black hat and the outline of a dark shadow of hair lining his sculpted jaw.
But when he says, “my car is just over here,” and he starts walking to the parking lot you get a better glimpse of the rest of him and can’t help the way your breath hitches.
“Damn…” you whisper to yourself.
He’s tall, with long thick legs and broad shoulders and an ass you already want to grab hold of.
“Well,” he starts. “My keys are in my back pocket and uh…”
You put the plants you’re holding down onto the pavement and hold out your hands. “Here give me a couple more this way you can free up a hand.”
“Good idea,” he says with a chuckle. “I was about to ask you to reach into my pocket but that wouldn’t be appropriate before at least a date right?”
You bite your lip to stifle your laugh, thinking that you wouldn’t have minded at all.
As you take three more plants from him you get a clear view of his face and you can’t help but stare.
Sparkling blue eyes meet yours, framed by long, dark lashes and as your gaze sweeps over the rest of his face you realize he’s literally gorgeous.
“Hi,” you say far too breathily.
“Hey doll,” he answers with a megawatt smile but seemingly oblivious to your obvious appreciation as he opens the trunk and starts to place the plants down.
As he’s lightening the load of foliage Alpine starts to crawl up his arm until he’s settled comfortably on his shoulder.
Once his hands are free he extends one to you. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.”
“Bucky,” you repeat, then give him your name. “How did you get that from James?”
He huffs out a laugh. “James Buchanan Barnes is my full name and my family shortened the middle and stuck with it.”
“That makes sense then,” you say lightly.
“Thanks again for the help. I’d probably still be wandering around the parking lot looking for my car if it weren’t for you,” he admits, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
“Glad I could help,” you say, meaning it. “You must have a lot of space for all these.”
You sweep your arm out, motioning to his trunk full of plants.
“Yeah, well…I mean sorta. It’s kinda gettin’ like a Tetris game, but I’ll make it work.”
He looks down at your feet, just now noticing your plant.
“I see you got a spider plant,” he says. “New plant parent?”
You nod before starting to bend down and pick it up. He stops you with a soft hand to your shoulder. “I’ll get it and let me walk you to your car at least.”
He grabs the plant and you see Alpine cling tighter to his shirt and shoulder. A few strands of hair fall loose from his hat and around his ear and when he stands again Alpine starts batting at them.
You cover your mouth, hoping your giggle won’t be heard but Bucky narrows his eyes playfully before explaining, “this cat is a menace.”
“Does he behave around all your plants?” you ask. “I bet they’re fun to bat around.”
You start to walk toward your car which is on the other side of the parking lot, chatting as you go.
“Actually, he does. I rescued him when he was just a kitten and started collecting plants around the same time so he’s used to them and knows he’s not allowed to mess around.”
You reach up and give Alpine a soft pat, cooing at him before you continue.
“I really hope I don’t kill this one,” you sigh, now glancing over at Spidey. “I love plants but they don’t love me.”
“That was me too,” he tells you. “It actually took me two spider plants before I got the hang of it. I still feel bad about the first two.”
“This is my third,” you say quietly, making a face. “Third plant. Not spider plant specifically. But to be fair the first two were definitely not starter plants. I don’t know what I was thinking…well, I do. They were really pretty, with these beautiful flowers- I love flowers- and I wanted them so…”
“I get it doll,” he says, “we all like pretty things.”
He looks at you, holding your stare and when you smile knowingly you see the pink creep along his cheeks again.
“So how many plants do you have?” you ask with a smirk.
“Umm,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s see…I mean there’s the kitchen and that’s probably one, two, three, four…and then the living room…one, two, three, four, five…” he continues on, talking mostly to himself as he counts and lifts his left hand to finish.
You notice he’s wearing a leather glove and when he’s done getting his final count he looks from you to where your eyes are focused.
“So if I’m counting right that’s over twenty-five plants,” he says sheepishly. “And uh…old war injury.” He twinkles the fingers on his left hand at you with a lopsided smirk.
“A plant connoisseur and a war hero,” you say, hoping your tone comes off as genuine as you mean it. “And you have the best cat!”
He brightens at your words and tugs Alpine from his shoulder, cradling him in the crook of his arm. His tight Henley does nothing to hide the bulge of his bicep and the best you can do is try to focus on how cute the cat is so you don’t blurt out any of the lascivious thoughts racing through your mind.
“He is the best cat!” Bucky boasts.
Bucky leans closer to you, as if he’s telling you a deep, dark secret, his voice low. “I have this plant on my balcony that attracts a lot of butterflies and he’s so good that he won’t even try to swat at them. He just sits on my chair and watches them all afternoon! But never goes after one.”
“Best. Cat. Ever.” You proclaim, scratching under Alpine’s chin. “And I bet they are beautiful to watch.”
“If you love flowers you’d love the plants on my balcony!” he says excitedly. “It’s like a rainbow. And I have this indoor desert rose plant that’s just incredible and my gardenia’s not only look amazing but they smell amazing too.”
Your smile only grows as he continues chattering on about all his flowering plants but he must realize he’s been rambling because he suddenly trails off and his eyes get wide.
“Oh man,” he stammers. “Shit, doll. I’m sorry. That was a lot.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot.
“I don’t mind at all,” you tell him honestly. “I think it’s wonderful. Actually, I’m hoping you can give me some tips to keep Spidey alive.”
You pat the plant pot and then delicately rub one of the long, thin leaves.
“Spidey,” he says with a big smile. “I love that. And I name mine too.”
“Phew,” you say. “Thought I was going to be the weird one on that.”
“Tell you what,” he says. “I’d love to help you keep Spidey alive but only if you agree to meet me for coffee this weekend.”
You tap your finger to your chin, pretending to think it over. “What do you think Alpine?”
The cat blinks at you then meows loudly.
“He said you should,” Bucky interjects. “That was definitely a yes.”
“In that case, definitely a yes,” you say.
“That’s great doll!” Bucky replies with a grin. “How about Saturday?”
“Sounds perfect.”
After you exchange numbers and agree on a coffee shop between your two apartments you say goodbye.
“Thanks again for your help and I’m really looking forward to our coffee date,” he says, then clamps his mouth shut.
He stares at you with wide eyes again. “I uh…I didn’t mean date…what I meant was…”
“It’s ok,” you say softly, stepping closer and kissing his cheek. “I’m looking forward to our date too.”
@randomfandompenguin @book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @sebstanwhore @goldylions @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @lookiamtrying
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#beefy!bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#beefy bucky#plant!dad bucky#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#plant!dad bucky x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes au
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Handle With Care - Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Summary: Reader and Aaron meet for the first time before she starts as a full-time nanny for Jack.
Notes: Hopefully will be at least 5 parts! I'm excited to be writing again :)
Word Count: 4.6K
I always believed in new beginnings, but as I stood on Aaron’s doorstep, rolling a suitcase in one hand and a Vera Bradley duffel bag in the other, I was tempted to question my resolute thinking. It had yet to fail me. Not when I was hardly eighteen and living on the other side of the country, vying for my spot at the esteemed culinary arts program. And not when I’m twenty-four with a stint as the private chef
Professional chef turned nanny–for my father’s beloved mentee, no less. My parents, ever supportive and ever loving, practically held an intervention when I showed up on their suburban door step a fractured shell of the bubbly daughter they dropped off at the airport.
Five years later, I’m sleeping in the same bed. I had nightmares about leaving once again. And yesterday I gave up that bed for a full-time position as Aaron Hotchner’s live-in nanny. Aaron, who I never even met, is my father’s protege. He knew him as a whip-smart, young lawyer from a family Law dynasty at Quantico. My father took him under his wing and even after his early retirement from the BAU they would get together for an annual work lunch.
I was nearly finished with my final year of the Los Angeles Culinary Arts Program when my fathers called to say that Aaron’s wife was murdered. I remembered thinking how lucky Dad was and how brave Daddy had to be. With one day off saving the world and the other left to hold down the fort with an awfully anxious only child daughter.
One year later, I was unemployed and completely blacklisted from the culinary entertainment industry for reasons beyond my control and without my fault. I gripped the suitcase, my chipped fingernails so jagged they punctured my skin.
Aaron had a nice house with a manicured front lawn, a big wrap around porch, and a fully furnished backyard. Clearly, he was a man with a lot of education and a lot of smarts to top it off. He worked hard. It showed, these neighborhoods of Arlington, Virginia weren’t cheap. No wonder my dads were dying to relocate to Georgia.
The door swung open before I could work up the courage to ring the bell or knock on the dark cherry wood. Aaron answered. He wore a dark green men’s quarter zip that was pushed up, showing off his forearms. His dark, charcoal gray watch shone as he let me into his foyer.
He had a foyer.
And a house that smelt like warm cinnamon and musk.
“Y/N,” Aaron said, nodding to me with a smile, “Please give me your bags. And we’ll go sit and chat before Jack comes. His grandma is still in town and brought him to the zoo.”
I complied. There wasn’t a need for me to protest. And clearly, by the looks of those forearms, he would have no problem handling my bags. I only brought a single suitcase, a duffel, and five boxes of books. Aaron’s mother-in-law, Lorriane, had been staying with them since Haley died a year and a half ago. But her husband broke his hip. Apparently, Aaron had added a mother-in-law suite for Lorriane and judging by the looks of his home, the suite I’d be living in for the foreseeable future was twice the size of my studio in LA.
“Thanks.” I said, grabbing a seat on the brown fabric sofa, “My dad said I had to say hello to you for him. He still raves about you. Like all the time.” I chuckle, watching as Aaron hands me a glass of iced tea.
“Marty’s a good man. He and Gideon built the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Our team is in constant debt to him.” Aaron spoke so formally, gesturing for enthusiasm with his hands.
“Yeah, well. He’s always just been dad to me.” I smiled, the man I knew showed up to my field hockey games even if it meant holding office hours there. He was the most there dad I could ask for– maybe it was neck in neck for the both of them.
“So Jack?” I said, breaking the silence. “How–how’s he been?” I couldn’t help but wonder. My dads had a close friend who helped them with their surrogacy journey, so while I didn’t have a mother in the traditional sense, the woman who I’ m half of was still alive and in my life. Debra was more like an aunt to me, fun and spirited and eternally youthful. But I still had her.
Unlike Jack, who’s Earthly ties to his mother were shredded in an horribly violent way.
My dad hardly ever cried, but when he called and told me that Aaron’s wife died I could hear it in his raw voice. Aaron’s a man cut from the same cloth a Dad; stoic and responsible. He was a wall of somber trepidation, but somewhere deep inside I could make out the man that wasn’t cataclysmically destroyed.
“Jack is…he’s a strong kid. I put him in therapy after it happened. He still goes once a week. Laura, she’s his therapist. She’s wonderful. Truly has helped Jack work through all this.”
“That’s good. That’s really good, Mr. Hotchner. It seems as though Jack has a solid foundation here.” I say, unsure what to say exactly. I can make an omelet six different ways, yet it’s lost on me to know what to say to a widower with a little boy. If I had to bear even a fraction of their grief, I’m sure it would break me. I would crumble. But these two boys? They’re a good man in the storm. And I know in my bones, it’s entirely Aaron’s doing. If that man is anything, he’s steady.
“It’s Aaron. Please, Mr. Hotchner reminds me of my father.” He cringes, the lines on his eyes creasing, “Your dad said you’re a professionally trained chef? Unfortunately, Jack’s still squarely in the dinosaur shaped chicken nugget and baked tater tots phase. It’s been a struggle to get him to try anything new…for…for awhile now, if I’m being honest.”
I nod, thinking that Jack’s food discouragement might stem from losing his mom. “Well, the way I see it, Jack lost his mom at how old? Four and half? That’s when we’re starting to really know what we like and don’t like to eat. His life was turned upside down and shaken all around when you lost her. So maybe he needed some consistency in a world of chaos. Not that your home is chaotic, it’s lovely and clean and happy. It’s just…loss…”
“Losing your mother as a toddler really fucks up your life.” Aaron says. He speaks so definitely, as if he means everything so ardently you could cast it into stone.
“Yeah.” I add, somberly. “But I think we can get him to branch out. Make it a game. I’d love to cook with him. I can get him kid-safe tools so he can be involved in food preparation and cooking. Oh! Maybe Jack and I can have a garden. I’m sure that will get him eating vegetables and fruits.”
Aaron’s neutral expression slowly transitions to a soft smile. He thumps his fingers on the wooden table, as he looks out through the deck. I could feel him glance back at me and then to the yard again.
“I think that a garden would be lovely over on the side. It’s far enough away from the pool and patio.” Aaron offers, sipping his tea. It’s sweet tea, too sweet for me. Working in kitchens throughout my program has trained me to not only tolerate black coffee, but to actively seek it out. He smiles, his grin defining his face. “Good idea.”
I feel heat at his praise. I like doing well, who doesn't? But after a series of mishaps and bad luck, an 'atta' girl is my Hail Mary of the month. I simply nod. “Simple things to start so he can see some quick results. I’ll get him super involved in it. Make him feel like he’s a part of a team.”
“I work a lot. My team flies across the nation, as you know. It takes me away from here for days on end. It was getting too much for Lorriane. And how her husband broke his hip.” Aaron shakes his head, “Honestly, you couldn’t have shown up here at a better time.”
He runs his pointer finger over the water rung pooled on the coasters. “Jack’s a very easy kid. Reasonable. But shy. He was shy even before Haley…even before last year. I’ve brought him to the pediatrician because he stopped talking for a while, but she said that we’ve all survived an immense trauma and our brains simply process and live through that trauma differently.”
Sitting there, I couldn’t help but think how lucky this little boy is. His dad was running up the hill; pushing that boulder up and up and up for an eternity. It must be an awfully lot to carry, without anyone to share the load.
“Yeah. I’m sure it is? Is he going into Kindergarten after the summer?” I ask, wondering if Jack went to Kindergarten on time or if Aaron and his grandma kept him home when they lost Haley.
“Lori, Haley’s mother, taught preschool for thirty-five years. She told me to keep him home for a year, let him be a little bit older and get the help he needs to heal and then send him. So I listened. I think that was one of the only decisions I made as a team this year.”
Sympathy must have colored my face because Aaron’s demeanor shifted quickly. He sat up, sipping his iced tea and wiping his hands on his jeans. “So basically your weekdays are around 8am-7:30pm. And occasionally on the weekends when the team does have to be on location But recently, I’ve been trying to transition to a more leadership position at headquarters. Hopefully, that’ll mean less traveling.”
I quickly journaled the hours down in my notebook. Live-in nannying hours are not for those looking for a job to allow them the life of leisure. Naturally that couldn’t possibly be true for a position whose main coworker is a five and a half year old boy.
“Alright. So that’s summer hours. We’ll need to brainstorm lots of stuff to do all day. Maybe the library?” I write a small note to get ideas and have them approved by Aaron.
He nodded, “Yes, summer hours are a lot, but Jack will be going to a couple camps that his therapist recommended. So you can get a couple hours each day to yourself. I am ready to compensate accordingly. Between my new role at the BAU and other personal investments, we live comfortably. How’s $2,500 to start and then we’ll discuss a raise in the future. And naturally your room and anything you may want to eat or have will be covered by me.” Aaron says it again in a way that leaves no room for argument. He must’ve been a great lawyer; no wonder dad adores him.
“That’s quite a lot of money.” I’m shocked and my face does a horrible job of hiding it. “I’m not a professional nanny. I’m good with kids. Really good. But I don’t do this for a living. This is you doing me a favor because if it wasn’t for you, I’d be a waitress at my dads’ country clubs” I cringed, my mind instantly filtering in an image of me serving one-time sorority sisters bottomless mimosas for an Easter Brunch.
“I apologize if you though that it was up for discussion, Y/N. Your first month’s pay will be $2,500 each week. And then it will increase to $3,250 each week. If I’m asking you to work 13 hour days plus one weekend a month? I better be paying you that much. And you’re still on Marty’s health insurance?”
I rolled my eyes, of course dad mentioned that to Aaron and of course Aaron double checked. Aaron just might have Marty, JD beat when it comes to thoroughness. “Yeah, till I’m 26. And that’s like…a year and change away.” I say, implying that it’s not up to me, or Aaron even, to know how long I’ll be with him. I wasn’t sure if I would ever venture out to LA again; not after what happened that sent me back here for good.
But the thing about food is that everyone wants good food, no matter where they live. And right now, the ones that wanted something good in their lives, lived in a lovely Colonial home on Moss Avenue.
“I guess there’s no arguing with you, prosecutor.” I say, my voice increasing just so that it balances the line between teasing and something else…something else I should be too ashamed to admit.
It elicited a smile from him and all of the sudden it was completely worth it. Aaron finishes his tea, and places it into the sink after dumping the remaining ice chips down the drain.
“Non-negotiable. It’s in your contract. Along with a health insurance package should you need to go off Marty’s name. Plus all that tax information that I’ll get you someone to walk you through it.” Aaron explained.
“Thank you.” I replied, grateful that it was both all above the table and that I would be given the resources to help me figure it out. Looking at the pile of paperwork in my lap, I was sure that if Aaron didn’t offer legal literacy assistance I would be way in over my head. “That’s wonderful. Really.”
“I just…I just want my son to be a good kid with a good childhood. That’s all. I want to be there for him and if I’m not there, I want the next best thing there. You know?” Aaron said and I’m not sure if it’s a plea or statement. Or if it was stuck somewhere in the middle; lost at sea like Aaron was himself. An island unto himself, drifting as the tide rolled in.
I break the silence. “What was Haley’s favorite meal?”
Aaron smiled. His eyes, crinkling again. “She had chicken piccata on our first date. And we ate it at our wedding. And when she found out she was pregnant with Jack she made it for me.” I nodded, understanding the important link between food and memories.
“Let’s make it. For Jack and you and Lorianne to share tonight before she leaves. It’s going to be a big transition for him to go from having grandma all the time to me, someone very new.” I expressed, hoping that I didn’t sound bossy or as if I wanted to parent Jack myself.
“That’s a lovely idea, Y/N.” Aaron sighed. “But I never was much of a chef. I wouldn’t know the first place to start.”
He leaned his hands against the table, a slight smile breaking the formidable since that had fallen between us in the moments before. I smiled back, standing from the table to reach my tote bag.
I pulled out an apron, the kind that criss crossed over my back. It was denim blue with a canvas front and large pockets.
“Move over,” I said, tying my apron, “It might be your kitchen, Aaron, but for tonight you’re kicked out”
The chicken ended up being more chicken piccata adjacent than a true representation of the dish. I mixed a seasoned blend of flour and spices for the dredging. Then, butterflied and pounded the chicken breasts into thin pieces.
Aaron’s kitchen was spacious and airy. There was a large island with barstools on one side and lots of pantry and cupboard space on the other. I stood at the island, dredging the chicken in seasoned flour before placing it nearly on paper towel lined trays. The chicken, thinned and butterflied, didn’t take long to cook in the oil and butter.
I let the skillet heat up till the oil, butter, garlic, and capers produced a mouthwatering aroma. Aaron gave me a bottle of white wine, imperative to make the sauce taste even better. I added freshly squeezed lemon juice and lemon slices to the pan sauce, letting the brown bits cook a little bit more. I scraped the edges of the skillet, incorporating the sauce even more.
I placed the chicken back into the pan, letting it absorb the lemony, garlicky flavor of the sauce. The sauce thickened, forming something that was similar enough to chicken piccata. I added a bit more butter to the pan, along with some lemon. I figured that it would stretch a little bit more for some sauce for the pasta on the side.
The chicken was simmering in the pan and the pasta water nearly boiling, when Jack came home. He looked like his father, but must have gotten his lighter colored hair and eyes from his mother.
Aaron walked into the kitchen with Jack, his hands resting on Jack’s shoulders protectively. Jack’s shy demeanor was evident as he peered over at me. I smiled and waved as I finished the pasta.
“Jackie, this is Ms. Y/N.” Aaron introduced me to the young boy, who stood shyly by his father. “We talked about how Grandma Lorraine needs to go back home. And we’re gonna have a friend come and live here.”
Jack nodded, his little mind clearly spinning and spinning to make sense of all this. He was clearly well adjusted, even for losing his mother at such a young age.
“Hey, there Jack!” I smiled. “I made a good dinner for you and your dad. I heard you went to the zoo with Grandma. I love the zoo. Especially the tigers.”
Jack nodded, eagerly walking around the kitchen island to talk about the zoo. “Yeah,” he said, “I liked the monkeys. They were funny. The babies were learning to climb and jump.”
I nodded, plating up some food for Jack. “Super cool. They’re kinda like little people. The way they act and play.” I placed the plate on the counter. “I used the Cars plate. It was way too cool not to.” I crouched down and whispered to Jack, “Just make sure your dad doesn’t swipe it. Between you and me I can see him eying it from here.”
Aaron chuckled, reaching high to grab not one, but two plates. He handed one to me before telling Jack to go sit for dinner. “You’re joining us. It’ll be good for us to get to know one another.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“Nothing you do would be an intrusion. And it’s good for Jack to see that we’re friends. He’ll be more trusting of you.”
I nodded, understanding that it was very important for Jack to become used to me. Especially considering Aaron’s job could take him away for days at a time.
“Alright.”
Aaron nodded. “Sit. I’ll get your plate.”
There was an understanding that washed over me. An understanding that Aaron was the kind of man that didn’t ask for things. He was simply used to things he wanted being carried out. I envied that security. Maybe if I had even an ounce of it I would still be hacking it out in LA. Or maybe I wouldn’t have needed to figure it out because I would’ve figured it out already.
Jack and Aaron went back and forth, swapping facts about dinosaurs. Jack was squarely in the dinosaur phase. Five minutes in, and I already had promised to help him find a dinosaur coloring book, with dinosaurs besides just the “cool ones”.
“Uncle Spencer says that some dinosaurs had heads as big as a car!” Jack said, practically shrieking with excitement as he recounted all the facts a certain Uncle Spencer had told him.
“Uncle Spencer’s so smart. And he’s a kid!” Several of Jack’s stories started with the aforementioned Uncle Spencer and I couldn’t help but wonder where the connection lay. Especially if, like Jack claimed, Spencer was a child. Sometimes some cousins are so far apart in age they’re more like an aunt or an uncle. Perhaps this was the case.
“Spencer is on my team.” My face must have shown my confusion. I always wore my emotions and thoughts on my sleeves, something that failed me several times over. Most notably when my friends in LA would get hit on by men at bars in the most vile of ways. One of the blessings of being deemed unapproachable by men was being left alone, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t burdened by their lack of tact in seducing women. “And he’s 28…yes about 28 now, and has been on the team since he was 23. He’s brilliant. Jason Gideon, who worked with Martin, scouted him when he was hardly 21. His mind works in ways that are simply unexplainable.”
“Which means he must have some pretty sick dino facts?” I ask, my question causing a prickly smile to appear on Aaron’s face. Jack giggles, he must enjoy seeing his father smile. It seems that even though the boys find themselves moving alone, smiles are few and far between. Especially from the elder Hotchner.
“And three phDs.” Aaron cut the rest of Jack’s chicken, sliding his plate over and reminding him to at least try the vegetables. “It’s like these kids are getting younger as fast as they are getting smarter. Sometimes I just look at Spencer and my knees hurt. Then again, I’m pretty sure I would beat him in anything athletic. Even though he’s much younger.”
I raised my brow instinctively, smiling. “Was that a joke?” I deadpanned. “My dad said you made two jokes the entire time he knew you. And the first was…”
I stopped myself short. But it was far too late. Aaron, like myself and my father, knew when the first joke he made to my father was. His wedding day. My father had long retired, and moved his mind and soul far, far away from the BAU. He trusted Aaron and Gideon to handle it. Instead he decided to live as himself, freely with his husband and their daughter in the suburbs.
If there was one thing that I shouldn’t have done the first night working with a nanny family consisting of a widower and his son, it was to bring up the marriage of the widower.
When Aaron married his late wife, Haley. My fathers attended, but I didn’t even remember. It must’ve been one of those times that Nana would sleepover. I remembered it was painting nails, ordering Chinese, and watching Walker, Texas Ranger and Family Feud. I remembered it as falling asleep to my Nana’s snoring as Home Shopping Club glowed on her ancient TV set and waking up to her chocolate chip pancakes. My father remembers it was the first time his young protege made a joke. And Aaron remembers it was the day he married the love of his life.
“Daddy?” Jack said, cutting through the silence, “I don’t like veggies. They’re too mushy.”
“Don’t eat them, bud.” Aaron, murmured, his voice laced with a guard that I hadn’t noticed till now. It was careful, like he crafted each tone and cadence before he spoke. “We’ll figure it out, Jack. Come on, let’s show Ms. Y/N her room. Where she’ll be staying.”
Each sentence is clipped and calculated. I nod, smiling as Jack stands next to his father.
“I’ll clean up.”
Aaron nodded, thanking me as he took Jack up to get ready for bed. Minutes later, the kitchen was back to normal and a couple extra meals were packed away for leftovers. I left a note on the counter for Aaron in the morning.
Lunch is in the fridge.
I always like to make extras!
Have a nice day
Y/N
Aaron returned, without Jack. “You didn’t have to do the whole kitchen. I don’t expect that. This isn’t a housekeeping job, it’s taking care of Jack.”
“I don’t mind. Being a chef…or I was a chef, as much as a pain in the ass cleaning and dishes can be sometimes it’s a good way to finish it all. I don’t know…I don’t make sense.” I chuckled, trailing off in a rambly way that fully gave away my nerves. My previous blunder had shaken me, especially since Aaron seemed completely unnerved, even though I knew it stung.
“I suppose, sometimes I used to stay late to do all the paperwork, even though the interns usually will do it for us.” Aaron wipped his hands on his pants.“Anyway, let me show you to the room. I had it cleaned over the weekend and put Lorianne up at a hotel for a couple nights so there wouldn’t be any issues or crossover.”
Aaron led me through the rest of the house. It was neat and tidy and I didn’t expect anything else from someone like Aaron, even though he does have a young, energetic son. There was just something meticulous about him. Something so put together and careful. And then there was me. Messy and complicated and unsure and terrified. Anyone would be that after having the carpet pulled out from under them. And I couldn’t name a bigger carpet than having to bury your life.
There was a locked door that led to what Aaron explained as my private area. “Jack and I won’t come over here. From the time that I get home in the evenings, or frankly, some days, till I leave in the mornings is your own. This is your spot in the house, but my housekeepers that come twice a month will clean in here, if you’d like.”
I nodded, grateful for that added bonus. The small attachment was the size of a studio apartment. There was a kitchenette with a nook tucked into the corner with the windows. The furniture matched the rest of the house, clearly Aaron had spared no expense to add this attachment. The queen sized bed was pushed up against the wall and nestled into the corner. Next to it was a nightstand with a lamp. And, as I turned the corner, was the crowning jewel.
“Are those built–ins?” I asked, staring in disbelief. “Those are so gorgeous. I have like, easy, a ton, of books. God! Can I use them?” I turned, practically jumping from joy as Aaron chuckled reluctantly.
“Of course. This room’s yours.” Aaron must’ve carried my bags into the bedroom while I was cooking because all of my belongings sat on the floor near the set of love seats and armchair. “I’ll leave you to get settled. 8:30 okay for tomorrow?”
I nodded, stunned beyond belief as I opened my boxes of books. Aaron handed me a set of keys, one to the house, the shed, and the other to my area of the house.
“You’re the only one that has a copy. If you want others made, I’ll cover the expense.” Aaron explained. “Have a good night, Y/N.”
“Good night,” I replied, hooking the keys onto my set. “And thank you for this room. It’s nicer than my apartment in LA.”
Aaron leaned against the doorframe, “Of course, I think Jack'll be very happy. It’s been hard to trust others. With him, honestly…Jack’s all I got left.” I had known Aaron for about three hours, heard stories of his skill and professionalism and talent for years, but he wasn’t someone that I had known, let alone even met. But in those three hours, I could count several times where I saw a sliver of emotions.
“I’ll leave you to it.”
“Night.”
“And Y/N?” Aaron said, stopping me as I reach down to start shelving books, “Food does hold memories. You’re right. I needed it. We did. Jack and I. He needs to remember her.”
“Food has memories.” I said, shrugging, “You’re gonna have to learn I know more than you think I do.”
Taglist
@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @pear-1206 @this-is-calm-and-its-anne @little-jana @pastelpinkflowerlife @sarcasm-and-stiles @ilovefictionalmennn
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#my writing#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch hotchner
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⋅˚୨୧ BARBIE PLAY ⋅˚୨୧
MDI
Hiromi Higuruma x innocent f!reader
18+, dark, dub/noncon, manipulation, loss of innocence, manipulation, slight incest, praises, dad-daughter bonding , nipple play, face sitting, rough raw sex, blow job, multiple orgasms, infertility, mentions of cheating ART NOT MINE
"I'll be gone for now." Hiromi sighs and stuffs a piece of toast into his mouth while wearing his black suit. "And, I can be late, so please eat dinner without me."
"Daddy, are you going to work again today?" you ask, looking at him with puppy eyes, hoping he melts. "Leaving me alone with the nanny," you say quietly.
Hiromi's expression transforms into one of concern when he notices the tone of your voice.
"I am pregnant!!" Your mother hugs Hiromi.
He frowns at her.
"You're joking, right?" Hiromi freezes and looks at her, shocked. "No, I am not. Why should I?" your mother replied.
Hiromi sighs as his jaw clenches. He takes his bag and goes to leave.
"I don't want to discuss this right now. I'll be home late, so eat the dinner yourself."
He shuts the door and walks towards his office.
She cheated on him. There is no chance that could be his baby because he is sterile. She is unaware of this, and he does not want to inform her either. He doesn't blame her, he is so preoccupied with his work that he can't devote time to his wife.
*9 months later*
Hiromi glances at the baby girl.
"Doesn't she look like you?" your mother cooes.
"No," Hiromi bluntly says.
"But look at the smile; it's exactly like yours."
"I do not smile."
Your mother pushes her lips together and remains silent.
*timeskips*
Your mother and Hiromi end up having divorce, and Hiromi takes custody of you since your mother cannot pay child support.
Hiromi, although not your biological father, adores you and provides for all of your needs. Not everything though. Not himself. He is a highly busy man, so he is constantly away from you at work.
But there's something about you that offers him joy. He had never smiled in his life, except for the times when you make him smile. He is now attached to you in both ways, physically and mentally.
"I...Yes, I'm going to work again." Hiromi's tone of voice is rather soft and a bit depressed. He's trying his best to be a good father, but it's always hard to make it work because he is so busy with work all the time. Hiromi seems like he understands that his work schedule might be causing problems in their relationship, and he feels sorry for that.
You get closer to him, noticing his dark circles and pale skin.
"It's Sunday, and... you don't look so well."
Hiromi gives you a fake smile. The pale skin and the dark circles around his eyes are reminders of just how hard he's been working. He looks back up and smiles softly at you. "I know, I know. I'm just a bit... tired. But it's not too bad; don't worry about it."
It's clear to both of you that he hasn't been taking care of himself lately. Hiromi is so focused on work that he's forgotten to eat and sleep properly.
"I want to take care of you, dad. I want you to be here with me. I know how hard you work providing for us," you say, hugging him.
The warmth of your hug makes him close his eyes. Hiromi has been working tirelessly to support both of you, and your words make him realize just how tired and burned out he can be.
Hiromi hugs you tight, pressing his chest tightly against your face to feel your warmth. "I'm sorry... I know... I'll try my best to spend more time with you."
You can feel the strain of his exhaustion as he clings to you, like he's terrified of letting you go.
"I promise..." Hiromi whispers to you before letting out a small sigh of relief. It feels like all of the stress and worry that he has been carrying around lately is lifted off of his shoulders as he nuzzles into your soft vanilla-scented hair. Hiromi seems much lighter and more relaxed now. He realizes you have grown up and crave his presence more than you used to.
"Do you promise to spend the next Sunday with me?"
"I promise." Hiromi's tone is soft but serious as he says these words. He stares at you with his brown eyes, wanting to emphasize just how much your happiness means to him. He knows next Sunday's going to be your birthday, so he has to do something to light up the relationship between you too.
*timeskips*
The next Sunday comes, and Hiromi is up early to make you some breakfast. He is making your favorite pancakes, though his hands are shaking slightly as he does. Hiromi can't stop thinking about everything he wants to do with you today. He hopes that he can finally show you just how much he has been missing you.
You enter the kitchen yawning and stretching, and you are surprised to see Hiromi making your breakfast. Usually you get to see your nanny making you breakfast, but your dad has actually kept the promise.
You run to hug him from behind.
The unexpected hug from behind makes Hiromi flinch in surprise. He smiles softly as his eyes flicker from a look of shock back to one of warmth.
"Good morning, sweetheart..." Hiromi chuckles softly as he turns around and wraps his arms around your small frame.
The sensation of your body pressed against his fills Hiromi with a sense of joy. It's been far too long since he has spent quality time with you, and your presence now means the world to him.
"Dad, do you know what day it is?" You expectantly look at him.
"Yes, of course I do, honey." Hiromi's soft voice is like music to your ears. He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes as he speaks.
"It's Sunday." Hiromi smiles at you warmly.
Pressing your lips together, you reply, "You really don't remember."
A fake look of worry crosses Hiromi's face when he notices your expression. He realizes just now that you have been testing him, wondering if he had actually forgotten what today was.
"It's your birthday today. How can I forget?" Hiromi smirks slightly, whispering. "Happy birthday, sweetheart!" Hiromi's voice is warm and soft as he smiles at you.
Hiromi leans down to give you a kiss on the forehead. He is sad to see that you grew up so fast without him much looking after you.
"Let's make this a day to remember, shall we?"
You nod excitedly at his words.
"How do you want to spend today?" He asks you, seeming excited at the prospect of making this day a special one for you.
"I want to spend the whole day with you at home."
Hiromi's expression lights up as he hears this. He would love to spend all day at home with you, just the two of you.
"Ah, that is perfect." Hiromi can't begin to describe how excited he is to spend the day with you.
"Now, let's go sit down and eat breakfast together. I've made some delicious pancakes for you." He says it softly, grabbing your hand to lead you to the table where your breakfast is waiting.
*time skips to night after having dinner*
The two of you have been spending the whole day together, and you can't seem to remember the last time you've had so much fun.
You're currently cuddled up with your dad on the couch, watching a horror movie together. You feel so content in his arms, and the comfort of your father's presence means so much to you.
Hiromi seems to be enjoying this just as much as you. He keeps looking down at you and smiling; his eyes are filled with an overwhelming sense of affection.
You have grown up now with striking feminine features.
"OO~ I love slender men," you squeaked.
As you watch the movie together, your eyes are drawn to the screen where the Slenderman character is stalking its victims.
Hiromi notices your eyes wander away and leans down to rest his head on your shoulder. He leans in close and whispers something in your ear.
"Don't you think he is evil?" He chuckles softly as he pulls back to look down at you.
"But I love slender men. I always had... He is just like you. He wears a black suit and has pale skin, just like you. He is not evil at all. He is cute, just like you."
"Aww..." Hiromi laughs at what you've just said. It's so innocent and endearing, and Hiromi can't help but feel amused.
"I guess I can sort of see that? Though I would never hurt a fly." He says this as he cuddles up to you a little closer, feeling the warmth and softness of your body against his. It makes his heart flutter.
"You know, since you're (your next age) now, I can start treating you like a little adult." Hiromi whispers in your ear. A look of pride lights up his eyes as he stares right at you with a small smile.
"And adults like to celebrate their birthday in a special way; do you remember what people do?"
"Oh, THEY CELEBRATE IN A DIFFERENT WAY?" You feel interested.
"Oh, yes, adults tend to have a bit of an extra special celebration." Hiromi grins widely as he looks down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischievous intentions.
He whispers something in your ear before leaning back and looking down at you with a playful grin.
"Do you want to know a secret?"
You nod excitedly.
"Come here and let me tell you..." Hiromi pats his lap and gestures for you to sit on his lap.
His playful expression is like a kid on Christmas as he looks back up at you.
"I have a surprise for you today." He whispers in your ear. You feel Hiromi squeeze your back slightly trying to pull you close to him.
You sit on his lap and feel him wrap his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Hiromi's playful expression has evolved into something that you don't recognize.
"Good girl," Hiromi whispers as he leans in close and presses his lips against your neck. His voice has taken on a tone of sensuality as he leans into your ear and whispers softly.
"What are you doing?" You giggle, feeling the tickling sensation on your neck.
"Keep being a good girl for me." His words are soft and tender as his breath caresses the soft skin of your neck.
"I want you to stay in this position," he says playfully, "just like this." He puts one arm around your waist while the other gently cups one of your cheeks.
"I love you, my girl. Nothing matters to me more than you." His words are like a hypnotizer, as his voice grows more seductive with each breath.
"I love you too," you reply. You can feel something is strange.
A grin spreads across Hiromi's face at your confession. You feel his teeth brush against your neck once more.
You flinch, and one of your hands runs through his hair, grabbing them.
"Ah..." Your sudden movement surprises Hiromi, but he loves the fact that you are responding so strongly to his touch. Your hands stroking his hair make him smirk faintly; the movement of your hands is so alluring.
Hiromi leans his head down towards yours, his forehead touching yours and his voice grows husky and deeper as he speaks.
"You're being such a good girl right now... So cooperative... and I know exactly what I want to do to you for your birthday."
"What-" You grab something hard underneath you.
Hiromi's eyes flutter almost shut at your touch.
"Hm...?" He seems to be enjoying the physical contact of your hands on that part of his body where you grabbed it.
A cheeky grin spreads across Hiromi's face. He leans back again to look into your eyes.
"It seems like you're the very curious type, and I was waiting for this moment." For a moment, he stares at you, studying your expression.
You look at him, confused.
He lets out a soft chuckle as he starts whispering again.
"Would you like to get a little intimate gift from your father? I wasn't kidding when I said this was going to be a very special birthday, was I?" He whispers softly, his breath hot in your ear.
You accidentally press on that hard object to rest your cheek against his chest and look up at him with innocent eyes.
"Yes, I want that gift. I want to spend more time with you." You reply, almost sounding as if you were begging.
This causes Hiromi's breath to hitch and his eyes to widen with disbelief.
He smiles down at you as he stares into your innocent eyes.
"Oh, you really are my little girl." He whispers softly, his voice filled with a deep sense of admiration and affection.
"If you want an intimate gift from your dad, we will have to go elsewhere." Hiromi's voice has become more sultry and seductive, his eyes never leaving your face. Hiromi seems to like the way you are pressing into him. His expression has grown even more seductive as he gazes into your eyes.
"Where do you want me to go to receive the gift?"
"My bedroom," he whispers softly.
"Oh, you have the gift there?" You ask, laughing sheepishly.
"Yes, my dear, that's where the special gift is." He smiles and reaches up to stroke your face.
He picks you up and takes you to his bedroom.
"You are very strong." You cling to his neck while he carries you. "You can carry me as if I am a baby."
"Well, you're still my little baby." He says softly as he carries you to his bedroom, being careful not to bump into things along the way.
Once inside the bedroom, he sets you down on his bed and gets on top of you, pinning your arms to the bed.
You wait for the gift.
He chuckles softly and looks down into your expecting eyes.
"Just let your hands wander a bit, and you'll find it." He whispers seductively, his breath touching your neck.
"Is it there?" You ask him, looking at his hardened member. It's already huge and bulging and could be seen through his pants.
"Mm..." He chuckles and leans down to kiss your neck before he speaks again.
"You sure know how to tease your dad, don't you?" He strides his tongue along your neck towards your collar bone, his breath burns your skin.
You allow him to kiss your neck. You still think he is playing with you, so you start to get mad and pouty.
"I don't understand."
"That's alright. You'll find out soon enough." He whispers softly in your ear, and his voice is almost breathless with excitement.
"It's going to be a very special day for you." He leans in close to you and whispers softly into your ear. "Just let me take control for today, and we'll make today all about you and your special birthday." He seems to find your cluelessness endearing, and his own excitement grows as he can tell that you have no idea what he's going to do to you for your birthday.
He smiles and sits down next to you on the bed, brushing your hair out of your face.
"You're such a naive girl..." His voice is full of sultry playfulness, and he stares at you with hungry eyes. "Do you trust Daddy?"
"Of course I do."
He seems amused by your innocent trust in him.
"Do you trust me to make this day special for you?" His voice is still sultry, but he also speaks with a sense of tenderness and care now that it's clear that he has you exactly where he wants you—vulnerable, naive, and trusting of him.
"I don't understand anything you're saying."
"You don't need to understand." He smiles warmly at you and places a hand under your chin.
"Would you let Daddy control you for today?"
He seems so confident in his words and has a sly, almost mischievous grin playing at his lips.
Suddenly, you sit up. "Ohhh, I GOT IT NOW.. You want to play Barbie with me? like I am your Barbie, and you will be playing with me?"
His smile grows wider at your innocent reaction, and his eyes seem to be gleaming with anticipation now that you are beginning to understand what he has planned.
"Yes, that's exactly right." He chuckles softly as he watches you sit up. "I want to play with my doll today."
"Yes!!!! take control of me. I am your doll today," you say without still understanding its meaning.
Your innocent words fill Hiromi's heart with a deep sense of joy and excitement.
He can't help but chuckle softly as he watches you shift around excitedly.
"Oh, my dear girl, you have absolutely no idea what you're in for today." His voice is filled with admiration and satisfaction at the fact that you're so willing to give yourself over to him.
Your innocent and lively attitude warms Hiromi's heart as he watches you lay back in a lifeless pose.
"My precious little doll..." His voice has taken on a much more sensual tone as he gazes down at you.
He places his hand on your cheek and strokes it playfully while he speaks. His other hand plays with the hem of your top.
"Let me change the dress on my Barbie."
You lift your arms up just like a lifeless doll, allowing him to open your top.
The playful expression on your face excites Hiromi's heart, and he chuckles softly to himself as he removes your top.
"You really are just like a doll to me, you know that?" He strokes your hair fondly and seems to enjoy the innocent look on your face.
His caress makes your body shiver with sensations, and you can feel his breath blowing against your neck.
"I will paint your face with my makeup. You will look really pretty. My very own pretty little Barbie girl."
You giggle excitedly.
"My little Barbie girl..."
Hiromi continues to caress your body as he speaks. He begins to move his hand down toward your chest.
He caresses your breasts, gently brushing your nipples.
He rests his head on one arm while he plays with your nipples with the other hand.
He grins at your playful expression, his fingers making you squirm on the bed.
"My little Barbie girl..."
You slowly turn to look at his face and at his hands.
He notices you looking over at his hands, and he smiles softly. His eyes are filled with admiration and a touch of pride as he sees you staring at him.
"Yes, my little doll... Look at me."
He chuckles softly, enjoying your reactions. He continues to caress your chest, watching you squirm on the bed with his hand.
He gets on top of you and starts kissing your cheek, then your neck. His eyes never leaving your face.
"My little doll is blushing at my touch. She is so responsive."
He places a small peck on your lips.
"I love to play with you, my doll," he says, keeping on speaking to you while his other hand goes down to take off your shorts.
"Would you like to wear a dress or a skirt?"
"Anything Daddy wants to put on me"—your voice trembles.
His hands go down to the thighs, pulling one up to caress your inner thighs.
His hands slide slowly up and down your thigh, causing you to shiver and gasp.
He moves himself higher on the bed to hover above you as his hands caress your thighs.
"My little doll is so sensitive to my touch. I wonder where else she is sensitive to my touch."
He smiles widely at you as his fingers trail along your clad clitoral area.
You gasp at his touch.
He chuckles softly at the playful expression on your face, his eyes shining brightly with mischievous excitement.
"I would like to paint you with my make-up first.".
Hiromi gets on top of you, unbuckling his belt and finally freeing his member with a loud groan.
"Will my little doll work to get the makeup?"
"W-what is that?" Your mouth drops. His huge, hardened shaft stands erect, leaking some cum.
"It's my..."
He seems at a loss for words, his voice trailing off.
His face flushes with a deep blush when he sees your innocent reaction to his freeing himself.
"I think we should just get the makeup ready first... Don't worry about that for now. Now hold your hands out so I can put the makeup on, little doll."
His voice is still filled with a playful tone as he reaches out to grab your hands.
Your eyes widen as he guides your hand and places it on his dick.
Your expression encourages him to continue.
"You're way too cute." He glances at your small hand, trying to squeeze him.
He slowly pulls your hand up, putting it against his lower lips, nibbling on your index finger, and then placing it back on his dick.
"Rub it and press it gently. It won't come out so easily. You have to work for that," he whispers seductively.
"I don't know how to."
"I can show you." He whispers seductively, his voice filled with a sultry tone.
He moves your hand in his and along his shaft, rubbing himself up and down.
"Yeah, just like that."
He can see how your face turned red, but that does not stop him from continuing to show you how to rub him.
His breaths become longer and deeper as he watches you, and his voice becomes increasingly sensual with each word he speaks.
He can see how excited your innocent behavior is making him, and he is enjoying every second of it.
Your inexperienced movements make him feel in control, and with every movement, you make him feel more and more aroused.
"Where is the cream?"
His breath becomes even more ragged, and his face flushes more as his body begins to twitch with excitement.
"You're so impatient."
He stops and leans to get closer to your face.
"If you want the cream fast, then you have to lap your tongue on it like candy. Does my doll like candies?"
You nod and take his shaft to your mouth, licking the tip.
He can feel your tongue sliding across the tip of his breath.
"It's salty," you say, sliding your tongue across his whole length. His mouth opened wide, and his body begins to shiver.
"You realized that it wasn't just simple cream, didn't you?"
"It's a special cream?" You keep licking him and lapping at his tip.
"Yes, a very special cream." He seems incredibly aroused as his breath becomes even more ragged, and you can feel his body twitch beneath you.
Your innocent and playful reaction is making it extremely hard for him to control himself.
He begins to twitch more intensely beneath you, and his breath continues to become even more strained.
His movements become even more intense, and he starts to arch his back slightly.
"Ahh... Aaaah!" At this point, his voice begins to become more agitated as he struggles to remain in control.
He looks up at your innocent eyes, eyeing his face while you play your tongue on him, and he is almost on the verge of losing his cool and just taking you right here and now.
"Ahh, my little doll..." He seems desperate for you to continue on.
"Pls, daddy, I am so eager for your cream."
"I know."
He places his hands on your head, and his grip becomes tighter on your head as he looks at you.
Your innocent behavior continues to take him further away, and he suddenly pushes you down on him, thrusting his dick into your throat and making you choke.
"Mghn?"
He pulls you closer to him as his body continues to shiver. He seems to be struggling to remain in control, and he seems to be unable to control himself anymore. He's beginning to breathe very hard as he grips your head even tighter.
Your teary eyes start to cause his mind to break, and his grip becomes even tighter, as if he wants to crush you against him. He can't even speak anymore; it's just incoherent mutters as his body trembles.
Your jaw starts aching, and you accidentally press your teeth against his shaft.
He lets out a loud groan as he feels your teeth on him. He grips your head even harder as he starts to whisper again.
"You're a bad little doll." He mutters as his voice cracks, and his breaths become even more strained as he pushes your head down on his length one more time.
Tears roll down your cheek as angry eyes spray upon him.
"My doll is angry with her dad now?"
He starts thrusting into your throat again. Drools slide down your mouth.
"Ah." His voice takes on a more seductive tone, and his smile grows more mischievous.
"Is my doll angry that I'm not giving her what she wants quick enough?"
You make a whimpering hum.
He bites his lip as his body continues to tremble. He takes his thumb and gently wipes the tear from your cheek.
"I see, I see, my dear." He runs his fingers gently through your hair as he caresses your cheek. "You're so desperate already, aren't you?"
He slows down his thrusts in order to tease you.
You squeeze his dick again with your teeth.
The little nibble causes him to let out a louder grunt than you'd expect considering how delicate your bites are.
"You're such a bad doll... And now you're even angry with me."
He runs his hands through your hair as he takes his dick out of your mouth and stares deep into your eyes.
"Do you want me to punish bad dolls?"
You wipe your mouth and give him an evil smirk.
"What's that, hmm? My doll is so curious as to what kind of punishment I will use."
He caresses your lips with his fingertips while he speaks.
"You are not being a good doll, and I'm going to punish you for it."
His voice is becoming increasingly playful, but at the same time, his touches still seem to make your skin tingle and shiver.
He takes off his white shirt and lays on the bed. He pulls you towards him.
"D-dad-"
"My doll, sit on my face."
As you are going to protest, he pulls you close again and yanks your panties off. His spreads your legs apart, his fingers parting your wet labia. He flips you so that you are now on top of him as his breath hits directly on your cunt, making you squirm in sudden sensation.
"Let's see how you respond to this."
With every word, he intentionally blows over your pussy , making you mewl and wrap your thighs around his face.
He feels you squirm once again, so he pulls his shirt, which was lying on the bed, and ties it to your hand, placing your hands above his hair.
He gives your clit a gentle lick, you arch in response.
As he feels you arch, he's eyes roll back slightly with excitement and then open up again with a deep and primal urge.
His breathing grows deeper and heavier as his lips brush against you, sucking on your clit then tongue slides against your entrance.
"What are you trying to do?"
"Shhh," he mumbles against your skin, kissing your inner thigh.
"M-my.. I"
He chuckles and presses you down on him; his hand grips you tightly to stop you from squirming.
"Please, I am going to release something. Stop."
Hiromi smirk. His tongue, continuously flicking on your clit.
You feel a strange warmth building inside you.
You grip his hair tighter while riding his face, your hips unconsciously buck against his face. Thighs fasten around his head as you arch back to release.
"Daddy," you say, with his tongue still on your clit , gently teasing and making you overly sensitive.
"Let it out..."
"G-gah," your whole body vibrates with every breath that hits against your clit. Your heart starts to beat quicker.
You can see him licking his lips, and he pulls away from you.
"Did it feel good?"
"What was that?" you ask, avoiding eye contact.
"Was my doll so nervous that she couldn't even look at her daddy's face?" He says it in a teasing tone.
His lips curl into a playful smile as he wraps his arms around you again, his body pressed against yours as he pulls you close to him.
You're suddenly caught off guard by his actions and before you knew it, he leans his head towards you, and he suddenly presses his lips against yours. His breath is hot and heavy. He pushes you down on the bed, and his hand travels to your oversensitive clit.
"Do you like your own taste?"
He gives you a peck once more, and the feeling of you licking his lips causes him to smirk. He inserts two of his fingers inside you, scissoring and stretching your hole. You moan and struggle against him, and your movements makes him even more aroused.
"You're good, very good... Now, the final part of getting the cream."
"Why is it so hard to get the cream? It must be really special."
"Oh, this cream is very special. It's my secret recipe. You won't be able to get it from anywhere but me." He chuckles softly before pulling his fingers out and whispering to you again, getting on top of you and wrapping his arms around your waist.
"Just a bit more, my doll. We're almost there."
He pushes himself inside your wetness.
"Aaaah~" you scream out in sudden thrust.
He stares into your pain-inflicted face.
"Does my doll feel hurt?"
He starts moving slowly.
"Yes, d- don't move."
He can feel your eyes begin to tear up and your body shudder as the feeling gets harder and harder to bear. He swirls his tongue on your hardened nipples and squeezes your breasts gently.
He pulls you closer to him and whispers softly in your ear, "I know I'm being too rough with you, but please bear with me just for a little bit more. The feeling will be worth it. Trust me."
"You're such a good little doll that even after all that pain and discomfort, you still trust your dad." He caresses your tear-stained cheek as he begins to speed up.
Hiromi's voice becomes more and more frantic as the pace increases. You feel a strange warmth growing between your legs as his thrusts start getting sloppier and rougher. His hand travels down your neck, slightly choking you while swirling his tongue with yours.
"Does my doll want more?"
"I want the cream," you moan.
"That's good to know...Don't be impatient; good things will come to those who wait."
He whispers softly into your ear.
Hiromi pulls out of you and looks at you with a smirk. He pushes your legs onto your chest and inserts himself once more, his dick reaching deeper and hits your cervix.
"I-I can't breathe", you grab onto his neck.It becomes unbearable for you to take it anymore.
"Just a bit more, my doll; we're almost there."
Hiromi begins to kiss you passionately as he grips you tightly again.
His tongue starts to move to your earlobe, nibbling the tip.
"Ah, good doll, I see you're taking this really well."
He begins to move faster than before, and your body shudders from the intensity of the sensation.
"Good, good, don't stop taking it in doll."
His breath becomes more rapid as he pulls you even closer against him, and he whispers into your ear.
"You're taking it so well, my doll."
You moan, and your body starts shaking again.
His breath becomes heavier as he speeds up, making the sensation even more powerful and clear.
"You're a good doll, such a good little doll... Keep taking it; keep taking it all in."
His voice becomes more desperate, and his pace increases even more.
Your stomach tightens as you release again with a loud moan. Hiromi slows down his pace, letting you calm your nerves. Your walls clamp around his shaft, squeezing them. His breath becomes heavier, and he gets to the edge too. He thrusts a few more times before spilling inside you, stuffing your pussy with his infertile seed.
"Was it good?"
Hiromi looks into your eyes with a playful grin as he pulls out of you, watching his seed drool down your clamping pussy.
You breathe through your mouth as your heart beat starts getting back to normal.
Hiromi stares at you for a bit; he seems pleased with your response. He pulls you close again and kisses you with a soft smile.
"Good, doll, was it everything you had hoped for?"
"But my cream??"
He stares at you for a bit; your body is shaking from satisfaction, and he smiles. He laughs a bit and speaks up, "Alright."
He pushes two of his fingers into your dripping hole, making you flinch and arch back. He gathers some of his cum, applying it to your cheeks and lips.
You lick your lips and giggle.
"You like it?" Hiromi lays next to you, spooning you.
"Mhm..salty," you say, drowning in sleep.
He looks down at you and sees you begin to slowly drift asleep.
Hiromi can't help but grin as he pulls you close to him and kisses your head.
"My barbie"
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