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ahundredtimesover · 2 months

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I Want You to Stay (07) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 15.4k

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: One of my fave chapters! I hope you like this one! And just a heads up that intervals between posting days will be longer as the chapters get longer, too. And bc u know, life... HAHA but again, thank you so much for all the love for this like??? HOW. PLS you've all been so nice so thank you! 🥰 Also… JK in that SNTY suit.

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

Mr. Ri loads the luggages in the trunk and you double check that all bags - which you helped pack yesterday - are complete. You enter the car right after and head to the airport where Jungkook will fly to Singapore for a few meetings and to attend Seokjin’s alcohol launch party.

It’s been over a month since the Arts Center event and so much has happened since then. Jungkook went to Jeju to meet an artist and then to Japan over a weekend to meet another two. He’s been on calls with a few more with plans to meet in their country of residence in the next months, and he’s gone around different local towns to meet with craftspeople for souvenirs and future exhibitions. He’s also touched base with various national and international Korean arts and culture organizations for promotion and joint projects. The event opened doors for a new network that he hoped for. There are now proposals for other collaborations and side engagements that’s doing a lot for the company’s brand and expansion.

To say that Jungkook and the team have been busy is an understatement. You went back to work after those few days of recovering with everyone overwhelmed by all the things they had to do but like you expected, you all managed and got things organized. There are still multiple things to handle all at once, but everyone’s just been on top of everything and showing how competent you all are as individuals and as a team.

Within that period, Jungkook has stopped by the team’s office and the pantry more times than those first months. He also managed to laugh at Do-hyun’s unfiltered remarks a few times and even slipped his own that got the team giggling. He’s seemed a lot more relaxed and so has the team. Lunch meetings have been regular given all the work you all have to do. Yohan and Chin-sun even say that they’ve gotten to know Jungkook a little better through their visits to the Arts Center. And while they do think he’s still a bit detached and catch him in his own world sometimes, he’s a lot more engaged and is actually way smarter than they’d initially thought.

Jungkook checks his phone and sighs, prompting you to turn to him.

“Seokjin says the party is an intimate event but there’s gonna be over two-fifty guests so I don’t know about that,” he shakes his head, showing you the restaurant bar where his friend will be launching his alcohol brand. “For some reason, he expects me and Tae to entertain guests on his behalf.”

This was another development you hadn’t expected. Since that morning when Jungkook sent you food when you were unwell, your relationship changed. It’s still professional but there’s more openness now, as if that prompted both of you to be comfortable around each other.

There’s more trust and honesty, too - he lets you make decisions, lets you handle the team when he’s away, and asks you for your unfiltered opinion. You feel like all the time you spend together has allowed you to learn how he sees and understands things; you even finish his sentences sometimes.

He’s also loosened up a bit and allows himself to laugh and smile more. They’re still rare occurrences but you never point them out, not wanting him to feel awkward and then stop. They often catch you off guard so you haven’t been able to fully appreciate them but at least he feels comfortable around you, enough to even talk about non-work stuff and things that fill his mind, like random questions or small concerns.

You’re unsure if he notices how uninhibited he’s become but you don’t point it out either. He still has his moments of living in his head, his faraway thoughts rendering him quiet and observant, and his perfectionist attitude means he’s still critical sometimes. But he doesn’t take anything out on you - not his frustrations nor his fears. He’d usually keep to himself and talk to you once he’s cooled down and you’d take that any day, so long as you keep your sanity and are able to do your tasks as instructed.

In return, you let yourself be the same. You’ve fully restored your confidence and that’s allowed you to show just how capable you are. You’ve been more vocal with your thoughts, too, and don’t take it personally when he doesn’t agree. You smile a lot more, joke with him even, and have been more generous with words of encouragement and affirmation. They come more naturally than you expected, and you appreciate that he doesn’t turn you away whenever it happens.

He’s actually okay to be around when he’s not being grumpy or difficult. You suppose that the situations he was put in - and how you responded with patience and understanding - allowed him to see that you’re truly on his side and that let him put his guard down a little. You’re past trying to please him for the sake of making your job bearable; there’s actual joy in it now, and while the search for who you are outside of all this continues to ring in your head, you think that sticking around for now isn’t so bad either.

“Perhaps Seokjin has seen how good you are with entertaining guests now and deems you worthy of being an extension of him,” you respond to Jungkook’s earlier musings. “And he wouldn’t be wrong. You’ve become really good at it.”

“You know, I think you oversell me sometimes,” he chuckles.

“Hmm, I think I don’t,” you counter. “If I may say so, Mr. Jeon, it's just that the bar was pretty low so the improvements are quite striking.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs, not taking offense.

“You can still do better at charming people. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from Seokjin and Taehyung,” you push.

“Those two flirt, they don’t charm,” he playfully rolls his eyes.

“Well, I completely disagree, sir. I mean, I’ve seen it firsthand. And I’m not one who’s easily charmed.”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can pick from them, then,” he concedes.

“Kidding aside, I think you’ll be fine, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s unrelated to work so there’s no need to impress anyone,” you state.

“True,” he hums. “But just thinking about these next few days is already making me tired. Tae rented a yacht for tonight. We have Seokjin’s launch tomorrow, and to celebrate, he’s throwing another party the day after.”

“Hmm, must be that you’re getting old,” you tease, earning you a hum in agreement. “But you’re used to that though, right? They always said that was your life back in Singapore.”

“It was. I had less responsibilities and people to manage but back then, everything seemed too much,” he shares. “I took the weekends seriously and really just did whatever I wanted. I haven’t done much of that these past weeks because I’ve been so tired and I feel like I’m under the microscope when I’m here. So yeah, I’ll probably just take advantage of being back there and just enjoy it.”

“As you should,” you say. “You’ve worked hard and you deserve to spend your weekend however you wish. Just, uh…”

“What?”

“Probably give Lucas a heads-up in case a half-naked woman greets him in the kitchen on Monday morning.”

The silence is deafening and you think you’ve crossed a line with this one. You turn towards him and he looks stunned at your unfiltered remark.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in apology. “That was too personal.”

“It’s okay,” he responds after a beat of silence. “I guess I deserve that. I mean, I never apologized for the morning when you experienced exactly that. And for when you found that underwear on the floor, which I forgot to clean up. So, uh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, too. I got over it,” you assure him. “And if anything, I’m pretty sure she left that on purpose so she’ll have a reason to come back.”

“That’s exactly it,” he groans. “She saw me again and wanted to go to my apartment so she could get it. I told her I threw it away.”

“How brutal,” you tease again.

“Not my finest moment but yeah, I’m sorry to put you in that position. Must’ve been tough seeing proof of all the washroom gossip.”

“You know about those?” You gasp.

“I’ve heard about them,” he sighs. “Mr. Ri’s got eyes and ears in the office.”

“It’s hard to defend so I just don’t try,” the older man shakes his head. “Not like you deny it anyway.”

“Not like I really care,” Jungkook shrugs. “But even then, I guess it wasn’t the best start for us,” he tells you.

“Perhaps not, but I’m not one to judge, Mr. Jeon. That’s all in the past now, and that feels like a lifetime ago.”

“It does,” he hums.

It’s during these casual exchanges when you get to see a bit more of Jungkook as the person that he is, beyond the perfectionist executive who still harbors fears and worries about his new role. He’s still a human being who finds ways to deal with the stresses of life, someone who needs time to step away from his burdensome responsibilities, someone who seeks intimacy and connection and finds ways to attain them in his own ways. The doubts and worries are still there, but the foundation has stabled a bit. Somehow you think that you’ve created a space safe enough for him to talk about them, to apologize, and to try to be better. You hope he gets to create that for himself, too, and if that’s what you’ll leave him with by the time you decide to step away from this job, you think you’d be satisfied.

Silence engulfs you both and like he often is after being vulnerable with you, he keeps to himself once again. You wait a while before running through his meetings for today and next week and inform him of what the team will be working on while he’s away. Jungkook responds with a few last-minute instructions, especially about the tasks he needs done in time for your team meeting on Monday. You’re both back to professional talk and you don’t really mind; there’s something about being honest and open that could be a bit disarming.

The car stops and Mr. Ri exits to retrieve the luggage from the trunk. Jungkook, in his navy blue suit, gathers his things and says goodbye. Before he can close the door, you call out his name.

“Yeah?” He asks, his one hand carrying his bag and the other, on the roof of the car as he bends to look at you.

“Happy birthday,” you say. “I know you think it’s just an ordinary day but I hope you celebrate well.”

“Thank you,” he says after a few seconds, basking in the softness of your smile for the short moment that he can.

Jungkook steps away then closes the door. He heads to the airport lounge before taking the 6-hour flight to Singapore, spending it on reviewing reports and design proposals. He goes straight to the office when he lands, settling down in his room where he responds to emails. He munches on some dumplings for lunch, thinking he’s missed the ones from the restaurant across the street, but then Lucas enters and sets down a bowl of seaweed soup.

“Ms. Cho asked me to get this for you, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook is caught off guard but manages to dismiss Lucas and tastes the dish. It’s nothing like his mother’s, but then again, he hasn’t had it in years. When Jungkook moved here, there were no celebrations apart from getting drunk at a club, which is also why he’d stopped thinking of his birthday as anything special. There were no traditional meals or well wishes or birthday cakes.

He’s here again. There’s that yacht party tonight but it won’t feel like a celebration. Somehow, with this bowl of soup, this does. You’re a thousand miles away but even then, he still feels your presence. Even then, he feels more cared for than he has these past several years combined.

Jungkook wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache. His neck feels a bit strained, given that he’d slept in an awkward position wearing his clothes from last night. He also barely remembers much. One minute he was drinking with a woman around his arm and the next he’s… here.

He shifts and lays flat on his back, groaning as last night’s happenings manifest in the soreness of his entire body. The yacht was fancy, as he’d expected from his best friends. There was overflowing food and drinks, the music was great, and the guests were honestly too many for his liking. There were familiar faces and new ones, but he mostly stuck around with those he knew. What he also remembers is not being able to taste his cake. He’s definitely calling Seokjin to complain.

Suddenly hit with the thought of not knowing how he’d gotten home last night - or with whom - Jungkook sits up and groans once more, the incoming call adding to the ringing sound in his head.

“Mr. Jeon,” Lucas answers on the other end. “How are you feeling today?”

“Terrible,” Jungkook says, now finding the strength to get off the bed. “Did you take me home?”

“Yes, sir. You wanted to leave so Mr. Ri and I took you to your penthouse,” Lucas answers. “Your valuables are on the table.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing it was one of those nights. Removing his clothes, he sees the fresh marks on his chest. Wanting to prepare himself before finding some stranger in the other room, he asks his assistant if he��d brought someone home with him.

“No, sir. It was just you. She, uh, she asked to come but you told her you were too tired so she stayed behind.”

“Oh, good,” Jungkook exhales in relief, not wanting to deal with any of that this morning, which is one reason why he always asks them to leave. “How long do I have until I have to get ready for tonight?”

“About five hours,” the younger man replies. “You have a scheduled dinner with your friends at 5:30 and then the event at 8. I’ll be there before that to help you get ready.”

“Alright, thanks. I’ll just workout to deal with this hangover.”

“Medicines are in the cupboard, sir. Please just let me know if there’s anything more you need.”

“I will.”

Jungkook hangs up and presses on his temples as if that’ll do anything. He retrieves the medicine as advised and thinks of something else he needs - a cup of lemon ginger tea. Ever since you’d prepared one for him that one morning, he’s been having it after every night out. He calls the butler to have it prepared for him, given that he doesn’t have the energy to do so himself.

It arrives, and coupled with the aspirin, he’s starting to somehow feel better. He knows that heading to the gym will do the trick, as it always does, but it still makes him think that he shouldn’t have drank as much as he did last night.

For someone who’s not particularly fond of people, even Jungkook sometimes wonders why he goes out and parties as much as he does.

He wasn’t always like this though. His weekends used to be spent on food trips and travels, but after the breakup with Chaerin, those days became free, and he’d stay out late so he could sleep the rest of the next day. The women were to make up for the loneliness; the alcohol was to forget why he needed them in the first place. He hates loud and unnecessary sounds, but the music and the chatter started to become white noise for him; they’d become a companion to help deal with the noise in his own head, or the lack of it.

Years later, the remaining thoughts in his mind were just all about work, and he’d revert to the same habit for relief - the women became his thrill; the alcohol was so he wouldn’t remember them.

And it works. The ecstasy lasts only through the night. It’s fleeting as his desire for them is. He doesn’t recall names, just that they made him feel good and that they felt the same; they often try to hook up with him again after all, seeking him in the clubs they know he frequents. But he rarely entertains them; a second time leads to a third, and he can’t be assured that they won’t ask the same tiring questions he hates hearing - why doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Why doesn’t he want to commit to anyone? Does he see himself settling down and having a family? What’ll make him want that?

It’s happened a few times, during the rare instances that there’s a lull in between and they take advantage of his brief period of vulnerability to make him open up. He never does, and it’s not because he thinks it’s a weakness to do so, but he just never really let the moment linger to find out.

After a light meal, Jungkook heads to the gym and spends three hours expending his energy so he could get it back.

This is his other means of dealing with his stress. Working out makes him focus on something else and it helps in releasing all his anger and frustration. As he stares at his bare body in the mirror right after - the marks from last night still visible - he scoffs at himself.

He’s so stereotypical, it makes him sick. He’s allowed himself to let his life revolve around the shallow and fleeting sensations of pleasure to counter the permanence and inevitability of his job. This is his world and he made it this way. And while he drowns in the nothingness inside the walls that he created, he still thinks it’s better than being outside; somehow he thinks it’s lonelier and more burdensome out there. At least in here, he’s all he has to deal with; he’s all he can disappoint.

But there are still moments when he wonders what it could be like if he just dared to live differently. Like when he watches Seokjin animatedly explain the history and creation process of Korean traditional alcohol during the product launch that evening and how his passion is moving and infectious. Or when he observes how Taehyung freely moves around the club and makes connections with others as deep as his smile.

Jungkook thinks about all this as he glances at the woman next to him later that night, bare under the covers like he is, her body curled into a cocoon as she takes a break.

She’d caught his eye earlier because she wasn’t trying to get his attention like the others were. She spoke less and screamed more, let him do what he wanted but touched him softly as she pleased.

“You’re a good lover. Why do you waste yourself with something temporary like me?” She’d asked.

It left him speechless and he shrugged - a change from his usual dismissal - but there’s really nothing to say.

Why does he? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to.

But it’s at this moment that he tries to imagine what it would be like if it were the same face he saw next to him every morning, if it were the same hand he held everyday, if it were the same warm body he curled into every night. His mind wanders too far, into the depths of a place it can’t go to, beyond boundaries he can’t cross, and the sight is both terrifying and calming.

It’s safer where he is.

So when she wakes up from a short nap, she looks up at him, her soft eyes wishing for something she knows she shouldn’t.

“You should go,” he says, the softest he’s ever uttered the words.

“Okay,” she whispers in submission.

She gets up from the bed, finds her stray clothes on the floor, and puts them on. Jungkook follows her to the door, a first for him. Maybe it’s her gentleness, or the unspoken understanding between them, or maybe because she doesn’t ask for more even if she seems to want to.

But though he contemplates pulling her back to try to feel what that’s like - seeing her in the morning, holding her hand, curling into her embrace - he doesn’t. He knows even that desire would end; it’s fleeting just as everything around him is.

He holds open the door. She turns around with a smile.

“I hope someday you find someone you’ll ask to stay,” she says, surprising him again. “I’m sure they would.”

You walk around the store in awe of the luscious plants displayed on the shelves, your eyes as bright as the lights that shine over them. There are so many to choose from, and though you have an idea of what you want to have, it’s tough deciding which ones to get right now. The money tree is a must, so is the Chinese evergreen. But do you go for the orchid or the peace lily? Can you keep up with a spider plant? How many of the asparagus ferns should you get?

Your eyes flit from one plant to the next, eventually deciding on getting everything on your list then placing them on the cart for payment.

Jimin chuckles next to you. “Since when were you a plant mom?”

“Since she got that aloe vera from Yoongi and she was convinced that she has a green thumb after it didn’t die,” Soomin deadpans next to you as you frown at her sarcasm. “That’s also after my weekly reminders to water the plant because ‘no care’ doesn’t actually mean it’s going to survive on its own.”

“Oh, shush,” you scoff at her. “You told me I was doing a good job.”

“You’d send a photo every few days, hun,” she laughs. “What else was I supposed to say?”

“True. I needed the encouragement,” you shrug, paying for your haul. “But also, I’m a plant newbie. Yoongi said that I probably need some of them at home and in the office for positive energy and he’s not wrong. All the frustration from months ago just accumulated in my apartment and I need a change.”

“So… Is Yoongi a plant dad, too?” Soomin wonders.

“No. He just knows about a lot of things,” you reply. “Plus, he’s an architect and a designer. He knows a thing or two about plant decor.”

“Why isn’t he here with you, then?” She arches an eyebrow.

“Because I’m with both of you, duh,” you roll your eyes. “And before you say anything more, I don’t really like mixing my work friends with my personal friends. It’s different.”

“Well, I’m glad we could join you on this new phase of your life,” Jimin tries to be encouraging. “It’s like turning over a new leaf.”

You scold him over his terrible pun but laugh anyway, enjoying the comfort and playfulness that only your best friends could bring. They picked you up from work last Friday then you all headed to a club after dinner. You spent yesterday at a beach at their insistence then stayed in during the evening. It’s now Sunday and you’re dragging them around as you run errands before saying goodbye to them again, and it’s not a normal day without Soomin mentioning Yoongi. Perhaps it’s because of all the guys you’ve mentioned that have taken interest in you, he’s the only true green flag; he’s also the only one you didn’t entertain at all. You suppose that’s something she’ll not really get over.

The three of you head to a nearby cafe. Jimin excitedly talks about the latest menu item in their chain of restaurants while Soomin groans about the stuff she has to deal with as she manages her family-owned shipping company that’s the biggest in the port city of Busan. They turn to you and ask how the rest of your week is going to go, with slightly surprised looks when you don’t talk about work with as much disdain as you used to. There’s excitement, even, something that Soomin points out, and when you mention that Jungkook is on an overseas trip, she assumes that’s the reason why.

“Not really,” you clarify. “He arrives tomorrow evening, but the week’s packed - we’re visiting the Arts Center for inspection and then I’m doing an ocular with Chin-sun for the VP events we’re holding in the next few months. I mean, I won’t be buried in files nor will I be in meetings all week. So yeah, it’s not bad.”

“That’s good,” Jimin beams. “At least it’s nothing like how it used to be. Right?”

“It’s a lot better, I told you guys,” you say, reminding them of a similar talk you had the last time they were here, which was a week after you’d gotten sick. “Jungkook is… rational, less grumpy and impulsive; he also listens to me and trusts me. He’s even smiled a few times.”

“Wow, he really set the bar low for you, huh,” Jimin chuckles, earning him a nod.

“Does that also mean that he’s now completely bearable and no longer your type because he’s not an asshole anymore?” Soomin chimes in, being the blunt and bold one among the three of you.

“He never was my type in the first place,” you scowl. “Plus, he’s literally my boss, Soo. That’s like, not some flag, it’s a whole ass brick wall that shall not be crossed.”

“Right. That’s why Mr. Min didn’t make the cut,” she points out. “Told you you should’ve just quit your job so you could date him.”

“And I also told you that wasn’t the only reason why I didn’t want to,” you remind her. “Yoongi’s exactly the type of person I need in my life, and being more than friends is the surefire way of making sure that doesn’t happen. Like, why would I risk a good friendship for something that may not work out? Whether I break his heart or he breaks mine, it’s pain I can’t handle. There’s just no going back from there.”

“Right, that is your biggest fear,” Soomin replies softly, the sympathetic tone in her voice telling you that she does understand where you’re coming from. “I mean, it’s still possible that you wouldn’t hurt each other but I get it. It just sucks, I guess. The good ones often start as your friends.”

“I know. And I’d rather have them and be single than none at all,” you sigh.

The thought is simpler than it seems. You won’t deny that you’ve thought of how things would’ve been if you gave Yoongi a chance, but the fear of what you’d lose always trumped that type of possibility.

There’s a kind of pain you don’t want to experience, one of a broken heart caused by losing someone you’ve given your all to. It’s how you think you love, after all; you can’t give any less. But it’s also why you’ve never done it. No one’s inspired that kind of devotion for you.

Soomin has pointed out before that it’s probably also because you don’t open yourself up to the possibilities as you should. Maybe you’ve just been too focused on other things. But maybe you also just haven’t felt the kind of all-consuming desire for someone who would be worth it, one you’d want so much that you’d willingly face the fear of paralyzing heartbreak just to be with them.

You suppose that’s the difference. That’s the irony, too. You’re scared to love because you’re scared of the pain, so you keep your distance to keep yourself safe but it’s also why you haven’t found someone you’re willing to crawl out of your walls for.

There’s not much you feel passionate about in life. Maybe it’s love. But you’re too cautious to feel it, to look for it, so you don’t really know. Maybe it’s something else completely, and working in the environment that you do hinders you from discovering it. You’ve kept your distance from a lot of things over the past years and the thought that one day, you’ll be able to feel free from all the burden you carry because of a past you couldn’t control, makes you look forward to the day when you get to walk away from all those and hopefully, find whatever it is you’re looking for.

Jimin nudges you after you zone out, and you switch the subject and ask about the latest gossip in their hometown. You enjoy living vicariously through their social life back in Busan. They not only come out here to Seoul to see you but also to take a break from all the drama that they can’t really escape from, given the type of people in their circle of friends. You always thank the heavens you got lucky that at 10 years old and making a new life in a new city, you found Soomin and Jimin, perhaps the only other people aside from your mother who make you feel safe and protected, a feeling you don’t take for granted.

They indulge you and share some stories, but when Soomin goes through her social media feed to show you something, she gasps instead when she realizes that the men in her friend’s Instagram post include Jungkook.

“Did your boss just go there to party?” She asks, showing you the photo.

“Partly,” you reply. “His best friend hosted the launch of his alcohol line there but there are a couple more parties because it’s his birthday weekend. Your friends went?”

“Yeah, some of them are Kim Seokjin’s friends, apparently,” Soomin says. “Small world. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Seoul and Busan socialites attract each other.”

“Why aren’t you there, then?” You chuckle.

“We’re choosy socialites,” Jimin clarifies. “Or like, pretentious. We just act like we are but we really aren’t, just to say that the Park and Cheon kids are interesting and sociable like the rest of them.”

“Who says they’re interesting and sociable?” Soomin states incredulously. “My eyes roll to the back of my head every time I’m in those shitty events. The lack of self-awareness of rich people repulses me. And I obviously don’t count us in.”

“And you shouldn’t,” you confirm. “I attract good people, I guess. I’m glad you’re not like them.”

“Well, what about Jungkook’s friends?” Jimin asks. “How are they like?”

“What I can say about the Kim brothers is that they’re nice people,” you say. “Very charming, ridiculously good-looking... And they sound like good friends, too. I can’t say much else. Their dating game is pretty strong though.”

“I’d assume. I mean, when you look like that, how could you not be?” Soomin states. “I mean, even Jungkook’s on point. That’s some hot girl he’s got.”

She shows you a couple of Instagram stories from her friends posting about the launch party. It turns out, there were a lot of Korea-based personalities who were invited. You spot Jungkook immediately, wearing the all-white ensemble that you packed for him the other day. His hair is a bit curled and the knitted top underneath the simple coat highlights his taut physique. There’s also that gorgeous woman around his arms, and if what you know about him is enough, you’d guess she’s probably one of those he seeks for a good time.

The sight of him loosening up a bit and enjoying himself is something you appreciate. He’s always stressed when he’s here and you’re glad he could spend a few days partying elsewhere without having to think about work, especially during the week of his birthday. You don’t know how much of this aspect of his life he enjoys, but he does seem a bit free yet still somehow detached. You suppose that’s something he’ll always be - a man trying to live his life while separating himself from the meaning of it. You’re unsure of how he does it but perhaps it’s not that different from how you are, too.

After lunch, Soomin and Jimin do a few more of your errands with you before dropping you home and then heading back to theirs. You spend the rest of the evening arranging your plants in your tiny apartment and feeling like more life is breathed into it with every one of them finding their home in a corner or on a shelf. Oddly enough, you feel a bit less lonely. That’s how you think you’ve been doing things, after all - finding substitutes for the kind of company you’re yearning for, for the kind of relationship you’re so afraid to have.

Jungkook wakes up that Monday morning feeling a lot better than he did the days before. For one, there’s no ringing in his head nor the feeling of dehydration. Bare under his soft covers, there also aren’t any fresh marks on his chest that signify the kind of night he usually has. In fact, he remembers most of it - he stayed by the bar and briefly chatted with the women who’d approached him.

Suzy was there last night, too, the only one he’s hooked up with more than once, and probably the only one he’s had proper conversations with, given that she’s a landscape designer. She’s been away on business trips and had just gone back, her bluntness about going back to his apartment that she’s too familiar with being met with a rejection that she didn't take personally.

“Has Seoul changed you?” She asked, her eyebrow arched in anticipation of his reply.

“Do you think a place would do that to me?” He laughed.

“No, but a person would,” she shrugged.

“None of that,” he shook his head. “There’s no one. I’m too busy, too tired.”

“But not too lonely?” she asked. “It’s the only reason why you would call me.”

There was no bitterness in her words but still, he asked. “And why did you always come, then?”

“To see if each time would be good enough for you to not make me leave.”

The conversation took a turn that he didn’t expect, the usual honesty in her words being too honest for him. He fumbled for something to say but she shook him off, claiming that she knew what she was getting into every time he took her home and that constantly hoping for something doesn’t guarantee that she’d get it one day.

He drank a couple of glasses of whiskey after she left but managed to call his butler for a sandwich and lemon ginger tea in time for his arrival at his penthouse. The meal did the trick, as he’d slept soundly after a warm bath without a splitting headache and regrets the next day.

It’s Monday, after all, and it’s back to work as usual. He has a few meetings to attend before flying back to Seoul, one of which is with the team. He gathers the energy to get off the bed for a half-hour exercise before getting ready. He eats the breakfast that the butler orders for him then heads to the office where he briefly meets with Lucas.

Settled on his desk, he proceeds to virtually meet with the team, who all promptly greet him from the conference room. He asks how their weekend was, with most of them looking surprised because he rarely asks them about it, but they answer anyway. That’s when he notices that you’re not around, prompting him to look for you.

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you answer off camera before appearing on screen with a candle-lit cake in your hands.

He’s surprised when the team sings him a happy birthday, your eyes fixed on him as you mouth the words with a soft smile on your face. Do-hyun giggles at his silence, saying that he probably forgot it was his birthday or he maybe didn’t expect that they’d prepare something for him.

“We like you now, Mr. Jeon,” she teases, earning him a nudge from Chin-sun but she doesn’t seem to mind and neither does he.

It’s what makes him laugh, hoping that the pink on his cheeks aren’t visible on screen. He hadn’t expected this. He also knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he’d bet that you had everything to do with this.

“You’ve probably been too busy to celebrate but we haven’t forgotten. More like, Ms. Cho made sure we remembered,” Manager Lee chuckles. “We hope you enjoy this little something we prepared.”

“It’s an ice cream cake so it’ll just be in your refrigerator and you can have some when you return,” you say.

“Thank you,” he finally manages to say. “You didn’t have to but I appreciate it. I’m looking forward to having some when I get back. Ms. Cho should also buy another one big enough for the team to share.”

You nod in acknowledgment of his instruction before starting with the meeting. There’s a lot to talk about, given the Arts Center construction and activities, as well as the upcoming year-end events that they have to organize and coordinate. It goes on for over two hours and it ends with your gentle smile after he says goodbye.

The rest of the day feels too long for Jungkook, especially during the late afternoon flight and eventual ride home. He stares at the photo you sent of the cake, making sure he sees the greeting on it.

“Get home safely, Mr. Jeon,” you text him after he says thanks. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With the reminders of the impermanence of things and people this weekend, Jungkook finds comfort in the stability that you provide. It’s in your smile, in your reminders and organization of his life, in your thoughtfulness and patience. It’s in the assurance that tomorrow is another day, one in which he gets to see you once again.

The cake is simple but sophisticated. The mint chocolate flavor is exactly how he likes it and in ice cream cake form, it’s really delicious. He’s glad he gets to have this all for himself, as the team was able to enjoy one yesterday as per his instruction, and you’d sent a group photo of everyone enjoying it to him, the small smile that formed on his face no longer surprising him.

For one, the comfort is there. He’s seen just how much better the team is working together because of it - they’re more open to giving him feedback and receiving his, any moment of frustration is easily mended with laughter, and his encouragement and affirmation have been motivating them as well. In the midst of it is you who makes sure that communication flows smoothly and that everything is on track, acting as the glue that keeps everyone together.

He sees firsthand just how good you are at handling things, and how despite all the stress, you manage to get him seaweed soup and a cake for his birthday. It’s more than just the details regarding work that you’re on top of; it’s also details about his life, and how he’s responding to it tells him that maybe, whatever change there is like what Suzy observed, a big part of it is because of you.

“I’m glad you like it, Mr. Jeon,” your voice cuts through his thoughts.

He looks up and sees you with a portfolio in hand, motioning towards the cake that’s now one fourth eaten.

“Ah, yeah,” he says, not denying it. “I feel like I haven’t had sweets in a while. Where did you buy this?”

“Oh, uh, I asked the baker who made desserts for the Arts Center event if she could make a customized ice cream cake,” you explain. “Fortunately she could. And thankfully it’s delicious. She enjoyed working with us so she gave us a discount.”

“You… had this made for me?”

He’d expected it to be store-bought, but learning you made the effort to reach out to someone reminds him once more of your thoughtfulness, of your care.

“Yes, I, uh, I just assumed you’d receive a few and I thought to give you something a little different.”

“It’s the only one I got actually,” he says, catching you off guard. Your face falls a little so he follows it up. “Like I told you, I don’t celebrate my birthday so I don’t let people know about it. And the ones who do also know that I don’t make a big deal out of it so they don’t really give me anything.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling a little sad.

You’re not one to have big celebrations but you do have a bit of it. For your 30th birthday at the start of the year, Jimin and Soomin threw you a little party in your humble home in Daegu where they performed some of your favorite songs and enacted your favorite drama scenes to make you happy. There was no need for anything fancy - just your loved ones and your mom’s and Min-woo’s amazing cooking.

But even before that milestone, your friends always made sure to at least get you seaweed soup and a birthday cake; they want you to remember that there are lives impacted because you were born. You can’t really say that Jungkook’s impacted your life the same way but you still value his existence; a small cake is just a little something to celebrate that. But the idea that his family and friends pass up on the cake - and perhaps the gifts, too - makes you think that there’s really not much in Jungkook’s life he feels he could share with others, that there’s not much he could give and receive in return.

“I hope I didn’t cross a line if it’s something you don’t like people knowing,” you continue. “I just thought… it would be nice to receive something from us.”

“It actually was,” he admits, his voice soft and low. Turning away, he says, “it’s been a while since I actually thought about my birthday as anything other than ordinary. It’s nice to be reminded sometimes. So thank you, Ms. Cho. For the soup, too. I appreciate it.”

Perhaps it’s his honesty that does it, but you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. If learning how to express gratitude is something you could teach him, you already feel accomplished.

It’s the next day when you find yourself back in Jungkook’s office, staring at the potted plant in your hands. You’ve gone from debating on whether to leave it on his desk or the coffee table, to even giving it at all. You won’t lie and say you didn’t know what you were thinking when you passed by the plant store after work last night to get this specifically for him. You did - you wanted him to feel that joy of receiving a gift, which you suppose doesn’t happen, especially for someone who can literally buy anything he wants.

But still, it doesn’t mean that your good intention will be received well. You’ve given Hoseok a small gift every year for his birthday, partly because he likes receiving them and also because it’s your way of saying thanks.

You want to give this to Jungkook as a form of gratitude, too. Despite how you both started, the amount of things you’ve learned from him and continue to have somehow made up for it, and you also know that he’s learning from you as well. He’s given you agency to make decisions. He’s also given you events and small projects to manage, making you realize it’s what you really enjoy doing. Seeing things come together the way you envisioned it is so satisfying. Perhaps without intending it, Jungkook’s showed you a way out, a path that you want to explore so much that you’re willing to let go of all that you know in this company for something new, for something that feels more like you.

Your thoughts have completely digressed and with the time you took debating and reflecting, you hadn’t heard his footsteps, and so you jerk a little when he calls out your name.

Turning around, you bow in greeting, remembering at the same time that you have something that you’re not 100% sure yet you want to give right now. But as always, he calls you out on it.

“Is that a snake plant?” He asks, walking towards his seat.

“Yes.”

“Is that the one on your desk?”

“Uh, no, actually,” you laugh dryly, knowing you can’t turn back from it now. “I… I meant to give it to you, sir. I just thought that, uh, the money tree on the shelf might be too lonely so I got you a desk plant. I heard it’s good for positive energy and to filter the air.”

“It is,” he hums. “Is that why you got yourself one?”

“I suppose. I figured it could help improve my mood. Yoongi suggested it before but I just kept pushing it back. I finally got some for my apartment last weekend,” you explain, just so he knows it didn’t come out of nowhere.

“And you think this will improve my mood?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” you shrug. “We’ll probably need a dozen of them here but we could start with one.”

He matches your soft laughter with his own, which you’re thankful for. He reaches out for the plant, nonchalant like you when your fingers brush against each other.

“Hopefully this will work,” he says as he places the small, white pot next to his desktop.

You leave him so he could prepare for a conference call while you’re set to meet with the marketing team. Jungkook gazes at the plant and notices the little note attached to the string around the stem.

Happy birthday, it reads.

This wasn’t just something to match the money tree that Hoseok left for him that he hasn’t been caring for much. This was a gift for him. You probably assume that if he doesn’t receive birthday cakes, he wouldn’t be receiving gifts, either. And you’d be right. His best friends just throw him parties. And once he left Seoul to obtain his MBA in Singapore and stayed to work in their Southeast Asian headquarters, the distance between him and his parents grew. They’d reach out but he didn’t bother much, so he’d stopped expecting anything. After he broke up with Chaerin, he stopped receiving anything at all. This is the first time he’s gotten something from someone after a long time.

It’s simple in its meaning and honest in its intention, and he doesn’t hold back the smile that forms on his face.

You watch the realization dawn on Jungkook from outside. You’d remembered the silly note you left right as you sat down and didn’t have time to take it back, which really wasn’t much, but you suppose it’s enough to tell him that the plant indeed is a gift. You don’t know if someone like him even receives them, or would even appreciate something so cheap and humble, but the gentle smile he has on tells you that he probably doesn’t get much, but that this is something he welcomes.

Your smile follows soon after but it feels different this time. There’s pride somehow that your little gift could elicit something so rare out of him. There’s also a bit of awe; this is the softest he’s ever looked, with that tinge of gratitude and yearning, a complete contrast to what you know of him, to how you’ve always seen him. It’s… it’s actually beautiful.

And this is when things start to get confusing, especially as your phone beeps with that SMS from him.

[From: The Boss] Thank you, ___.

It’s the non-work message. It’s the use of your name. This is personal for him and you acknowledge that it’s the same for you. Perhaps there’s a reason why you made the effort to get the gift last night, why it mattered to you that he received something to celebrate his birthday, and why seeing him appreciate it the way he does is making you giddy and satisfied at the same time.

Maybe it’s the care you’re starting to feel for him that’s beyond just wanting to make your job bearable. You’ll dissect what that truly means later on, but right now it’s just you, him, and the glass wall in between the both of you. There’s distance, there’s a boundary, but there’s a transparent barrier that allows you to see what’s on the other side, one which allows you to know who he is behind the man you’ve come to know. And you admit, he’s not so bad after all.

The construction of the Arts Center is going better than expected. Given some of the delays due to the wrong materials delivered and some permits that took a while to get, the workers were able to make up some ground, largely due to Jungkook’s supervision. When you both visited a few weeks ago, there were many things to work on, and he managed to identify the priorities and find ways to get the project back on track.

It was during those few days of constantly being on site that you saw how efficient and effective he really works. You admired his precision and attention to detail, how he instructed the team leads and project managers and laborers, how he put together the design of one of the rooms just as he’d envisioned it.

He was commanding and decisive, and you appreciated his thorough and simple explanations that allowed you to keep up with him. He’s said that he wants you to understand what’s happening so that you’re well-informed should you need to communicate to others on his behalf, and what initially intimidated you turned into something you became interested in. Since then, you’ve been watching design shows to help you further. The challenge was welcomed, and now you feel like everyday, you’re learning something new on the job.

His instructions from that time were followed, and you’re back today to inspect the rest of the spaces. Everything is so massive, and with one half of the wall of the performance hall already done, you can clearly see the upgrade. The details are impressive, and the way that the traditional designs merge with modern elements is a feature itself.

You’re immersed in the intricacies of the ceiling, walking towards the wall to get a closer look that you don’t immediately notice the workers walking past you with a massive slab of marble. The moment that you do, you step back too quickly, tripping on your heels, and just as you brace yourself to hit the ground, you instead feel your back against a firm chest, with hands on your elbows breaking your fall.

You sigh in relief, even leaning your head back because nothing could be more embarrassing than falling on your ass in front of many people, including your boss. That is, until the familiar scent of jasmine and bergamot wafts through your nose and you realize that what you just did is debatably more embarrassing than what could’ve happened.

The familiar clearing of the throat is what finally does it for you, and with wide eyes, you turn around and face him to apologize.

“I’m sorry, sir. I—”

“Was so much in awe that you didn’t notice the workers passing by,” he finishes, his slightly teasing smile calming you down.

“Ah, well of course. The details are too pretty,” you reason, stepping back only a little. You look at him shyly. “But thank you. I was about to fall.”

“I know. And I was about to lose it if my assistant got injured on the job.”

“True. It’s bad publicity, I guess,” you shrug. “And distractions could cause delays. And that’s bad, too.”

“Or you know, I simply just can’t have you injured, simple as that,” he says with a little frown on his face.

“Imagine if I didn’t see them? They could’ve dropped the marble and I would’ve completely lost it!”

“Why?” He arches an eyebrow.

“That slab is like, two months’ worth of salary, Mr. Jeon.”

“It’s actually more but that’s not the point,” he fully frowns now. “If you didn’t see them, then they could’ve hit you, and then you would be whining in pain right now. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, ___.”

His voice is firm and low, and you nod in acknowledgment because you also know he’s right. The workers’ vision was limited but yours wasn’t; you were just too distracted and if you hadn’t pulled early enough, that marble really could’ve done damage to you. And if it wasn’t for Jungkook catching your fall, then something bad still would’ve happened to you.

“But are you okay? You didn’t twist your ankle or anything?” He asks.

“No. Uh, the heel’s just a bit loose but I’m fine,” you reply, still trying to wrap your head around how he’d said your name - informally, in this setting, as he told you that you could’ve gotten hurt. Maybe you weren’t imagining the worried tone of his voice earlier.

“Okay,” he sighs. “You have to be careful next time.”

“I will, sir,” you reply.

You step aside and Jungkook sees you from his peripheral vision as he returns to assessing, staying put and only glancing at the ceiling unlike earlier. He’d seen you marvel at the design of the hall earlier, and while he was initially doing the same, seeing you wide-eyed and impressed caught his attention more.

Many times, he’s seen you look dejected, frustrated, angry. He’s seen your moments of focus and joy, too, but this is the first time he’s seen you be in awe. There was this softness on your face that was still filled with emotion, and he’d been drawn to you enough to see that you were about to fall. He’s glad he has quick reflexes and was able to get to you in time, the worry he felt at the thought of you getting hurt in any way was quite overwhelming for him. And while it’s partly because you’re his responsibility in this case, he also knows it’s more than that.

He gestures moving to another room and you follow him outside, and just as you try to stay close to him, Jungkook also makes sure you’re away from any kind of danger. He moves to your side when there are workers nearby with their heavy equipment and large materials. He shields you from the drilling. He glances at you as you both walk towards the other performance hall. And when you get there, you see the ceiling installation is ongoing, and Jungkook immediately calls for hard hats for the both of you.

He hands you one and you put it on, fumbling with the strap underneath your chin. You groan in frustration when you’re unable to lock it, and that’s when you see him move towards you.

“Let me,” he says.

You stop your movements and shyly nod in agreement, and he waits for you to let go before he fixes it himself.

It’s a little odd being on the other side, since it’s always you who fixes his tie or his coat. But you’re the one watching him now, with his furrowed brows and seriousness in securing this safety gear on you making you feel warm inside.

He steps back then looks at you, trying hard to control his laughter.

“Are you laughing at me, sir?” You pout.

“No. I don’t make fun of people,” he says, turning serious now, but you don’t miss the grin on his face.

It’s unfair that he looks good even with a hard hat on.

One of the project managers calls him and he goes around, with you staying close by. This performance hall is bigger and boasts of a more traditional design, which would hold the cultural performances that the Culture Minister is very excited about. You watch Jungkook inspect the space with thoroughness, checking each wall panel and each seat.

It’s amazing to you just how involved he is with this project even with the project managers handling things relatively well. He wants to be on top of everything, he’s said; it matters too much for him to not know what’s going on.

You see Yoongi enter the room and approach him. Once he sees you, he laughs as well.

“Do I look that bad?” You groan. “Mr. Jeon was laughing at me, too.”

“It’s a little big, and I guess I’m just not used to seeing you in one,” Yoongi shrugs.

“Why don’t you have one?”

“I don’t need it. I’m here all the time and nothing happens.”

“Well, I’ve been here a few times and I almost fell earlier,” you say, recalling the almost-embarrassment.

“I know, I saw it,” he chuckles.

“You were there?!” You gasp.

“No, I was totally in the other room that’s why I witnessed you almost get hit by the marble then trip on yourself,” he deadpans.

“I didn’t see you, that’s all,” you shrug.

“I was by the doors. I checked these spaces yesterday and I just wanted to be around in case Jungkook had new instructions,” he explains. “But I gotta say, you guys were kinda cute earlier.”

“Almost falling on my ass isn’t cute, Min Yoongi,” you scowl. “I could’ve either ruined the marble slab or hurt my bum. Either way, it would’ve been embarrassing.”

“I didn’t mean just you. I meant you guys,” he gestures towards Jungkook. “He caught you, didn’t he?”

“Yes… That was embarrassing, too,” you frown. “What’s cute about that?”

“He looked worried. It’s just not something I’ve seen him be towards other people, that’s all.”

“It’s because an injured employee on site isn’t good, okay? Plus, if I’m incapable, then no one’s gonna be around to make his life easier,” you reason.

Yoongi stares at you for a while before shaking his head. “Wow, you really are dense.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you cross your arms in frustration.

“Forget about it,” Yoongi shakes his head, deciding not to push it.

He’ll tell you another time that he’s glad you’re becoming more of yourself again, that the light has somehow come back, that there’s now comfort you exude around the man you’d once despised. Yoongi feels assured now that there’s someone else who seems to be looking out for you, and that it’s something you don’t seem to mind at all.

“Yah! You’re being all mysterious again!” You pout, something he chuckles about.

“Me? Mysterious? Come on. I’ve always been an open book,” he teases.

You’re just about to nag him again when you hear Jungkook clear his throat, and you turn towards him and ask if he’s already done inspecting.

“There are still a few things I want to run by my design lead before leaving,” Jungkook says. “Please move my meeting to 3PM.”

“That’s noted, sir. I’ll give Mr. Hong’s assistant a call.”

You excuse yourself and step outside, leaving both men alone.

“Angering my assistant, are you?” Jungkook asks Yoongi, the curious yet playful tone in his voice evident.

“Nah, just teasing. That a problem?” Yoongi answers back.

“No. It’s good she has someone she’s comfortable with at work.”

“Could be you, you know? That isn’t so bad,” Yoongi remarks, surprising him. “And it doesn’t cross whatever boundary you’re trying so hard to stay behind.”

“We’re not… on that level. I mean, I don’t know how to be someone other people are comfortable being around,” Jungkook admits.

“I don’t know about that. Seems like you’re already that for her,” Yoongi says. “I was just teasing her about how you guys looked cute earlier, when you broke her fall.”

“You were there?”

“Both of you really don’t notice other people when it’s just both of you, huh,” Yoongi laughs. “But yeah, I was. I saw her relief. And I saw you worry.”

Jungkook merely shrugs, not wanting to confirm. Even if he denies it, Yoongi will still believe what he wants to believe. But the older man knows you well just as much as he knows him.

“You care about her, don’t you?” Yoongi responds to the silence. “And I mean not in a superficial way, or a good boss caring for his employee type of way. Like, you worry when she’s sick or overworking, when she’s hurt or in danger. You want her to always be safe, to get rest. You like having her near. You wanna know that she’s happy.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Jungkook finally answers. “I can’t think of her that way.”

“I know. That’s why you were the way you were,” Yoongi says. “How else do you respond to things you can’t control than through anger and detachment? But just because you shouldn’t, it doesn’t change the fact that you do.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong,” Jungkook counters.

“Well, irrationally calling her out and being angry were wrong, too, and you did those because you weren’t being honest with yourself,” Yoongi argues. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, the least you can do is be true to yourself about how you feel. Because the more you deny, then the more you resist, and when you do that, you end up hurting her. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.”

“Then just… accept things - what you feel, what you both are, what you can or can’t be.”

Jungkook looks at his friend as if some epiphany had just transpired. It’s been difficult for him to make sense of what he feels around you. There’s always that air of familiarity, but the warmth and comfort are new. There’s the reality that you come from different worlds, but that you both somehow feel and experience and maybe desire the same things. There’s that sense of fear over change and of what he can’t control, yet you somehow provide the calm and stability that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

It’s all these contradictions that have been messing with him, and Yoongi’s right - because of all the times that Jungkook had wanted to create that distance, all it did was hurt you. That’s the last thing he wants, he realizes now. He’s seen you struggle, and even if that’s just a fraction of what you normally go through, it’s enough to tell him that he doesn’t want you to experience that again, especially not because of him. It’s too early to say the extent of his care towards you, and it’s not something he’s willing or ready to explore right now. But just as Jungkook’s about to comfort himself that it’s fine, and that he shouldn’t dwell on it anyway so as not to further nurture it, Yoongi speaks again.

“Just… just a heads up, though,” he adds. “The care that I felt, that’s how it started for me.”

“What started?”

“Me, liking her.”

It’s at that moment when you come back from your call, and you inform Jungkook that the meeting’s been moved and that he has a scheduled one with some of the directors on Monday.

“Alright,” he says, directing you and Yoongi towards the souvenir shop, temporarily disregarding what he was warned about.

“You two looked so serious. Everything okay?” You whisper to your friend.

“Yeah,” Yoongi hums, giving you the most genuine smile he could give.

There’s that sparkle and softness in your eyes that had captured him all those years ago. They dimmed throughout the years and they’ve just been sporadic, illuminating only during specific moments. He’d seen them again a lot more regularly, and even today, as you looked around the halls and admired the designs of the space.

Yoongi doesn’t know if a certain person is the reason for that. He knows you enough that you wouldn’t even notice it, so you definitely wouldn’t know what caused the change. But as your friend, he hopes one day you will, so that if you’re brave enough, too, you’d try to make sure that the light stays.

The inspection ends and you get back to the office at 4. You return to piles of documents you have to sift through and encode, and your original plan of leaving on time changes.

Jungkook spends over an hour talking with Yoongi and the construction lead about the Arts Center, and once that’s over, you see just how exhausted he is. He’s massaging his temples and sighing deeply, and you know that whatever just transpired, he’s going to be thinking about it all throughout the weekend, which he doesn’t really have time for. The gala that one of the Board members throws annually is tomorrow night, an event you’ll be attending with him as well.

You enter his room to remind him about it and to give some forms for his signature. He signs them off, and when you say you’ve got a few more requests that you’ll leave on his desk for Monday, he tells you to just wait until then.

“Go home, Ms. Cho,” he says. “It’s been a long week. And it won’t end until after tomorrow night.”

“What about you, Mr. Jeon?”

“I’ve got some stuff to sort through after inspection. I’ll probably leave in an hour or so.”

You frown, a mannerism of yours that he’s gotten used to seeing. It’s mixed with a pout that often makes him internally laugh because it seems unlike you. It also always means there’s something you want to say that you’re holding back.

“Should I not?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Hmm. Just thinking that it might be better for you to take a rest tonight, too,” you advise. “The gala could be quite draining and it would be good to save your energy for that.”

“I’ll think about it,” he hums.

“Then I’ll think about going home, too,” you answer back.

Jungkook chuckles, knowing you’re always going to counter him in some way. And he’s glad that you do.

“You may go. And get a good rest, too.”

You nod and bid him goodbye, exiting the room to start packing your things. It’s five minutes later when the door opens and you see him with his bag, ready to head home as well.

You smile at his tender doe-eyes as he admits through them that you were right - he doesn’t have a reason to stay behind, so he’ll call it a night and get as much rest as he can.

He pauses by the entryway, and you pick up that he’s waiting for you, perhaps to make sure that you’re indeed going home. You quicken your pace and walk next to him, steps in pace as you both go to the elevator and down to the lobby.

“Mr. Ri can bring you home after me,” Jungkook says. “It’s late already.”

“Not late enough,” you reply. “I’m okay, Mr. Jeon. It’s not necessary.”

He concedes, and you wait for the car to arrive and say goodbye to him again.

There’s a softness on his face as he lingers before he enters. A small smile forms, and it’s what you see until you fall asleep that night. It’s the same one that’s oddly been giving you comfort lately - it’s a little restrained but somehow it still looks vulnerable. Perhaps it represents how Jungkook’s been to you - there are some contradictions, but beyond all that, there’s care.

Mr. Ri happily greets you as you enter the car that late Saturday afternoon to head to Jungkook’s penthouse. He compliments your dress, saying it’s nice to see you in something formal that fits your style - it’s simple yet elegant, and you tell him that your mother wouldn’t stop gushing over you through the screen, nagging you to send full-body photos so she could appreciate you more.

Jimin and Soomin surprised you in the morning to help you fix up, insisting that they wanted to make sure you spoiled yourself for the event. If you wouldn’t, they would, so they treated you to the hair salon and had your nails done. They’re the ones who took so many photos like some formal dance, and Jimin commented that the only downside was that they were sending you off to pick up Jungkook.

Defending your boss the way you did surprised you a little; it surprised them a lot more. You’d said that he bought you the dress, that he’s been nothing but kind, and that whatever negative feelings you had towards him are all in the past. Your friends understood, deciding not to ruin your night and then letting you go so they could eat out and meet you back at your apartment once you’re done.

You chat with Mr. Ri about how things have been at work, your friends, and your family. You also talk about the gala and how it feels a little nerve-racking attending this time, given your experience with Jungkook.

It’s a grand event that the company’s executives attend, and guests are asked to refrain from going solo. For such requests, it’s not unusual for them to bring their assistants. You’re expected to attend anyway, and assistants usually partner up with each other and it always worked. You went with Hoseok last year because A-yeong had a work event, and while you expected that Jungkook wouldn’t care for such request and maintain that he’d go by himself, you also didn’t think that CEO Jeon would insist that his son take you as his date so he wouldn’t be alone.

The elder Jeon had reasoned that business discussions usually take place during the gala, and it would be good for you to be around and be familiar with the new people on the scene. Hoseok had said that they’re expected to stay through the whole thing, and it’s much better for his cousin to have a companion so he could survive the night. That was months ago when things were still a little shaky for you both. You still remember Jungkook’s displeased look when it seemed like he had no choice in the matter, especially since he probably thought that his father just wanted to make sure he’d act accordingly. It feels like a lifetime ago, really, as you think about his soft smile from last night.

You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, why his gestures or mannerisms suddenly mean something to you, or why there’s excitement when you think about seeing him outside of work. You’re unsure why the curve of his lips when he grins or the deep huff that follows his laugh makes you a little giddy, or why his eyes lingering on you makes your heart beat a little faster than usual.

Just like right now, as they gaze at you while you seemingly do the same.

“You look, uh—” he starts, unable to find the accurate but appropriate term to describe how you look.

“Nice?” You finish, recalling the term he’d used when you tried this gown for the first time.

“Something like that,” he chuckles, earning him a giggle from you.

He playfully shakes his head, perhaps knowing that you’re used to him not making grand compliments or anything. But he does smile after, and there goes that blissful feeling again.

Maybe it’s because for the first time, you’re being appreciated. Maybe just like how it’s been recently, he likes being around you, prefers it, even. And given how you felt so unwanted during his first few weeks here, this is a blessing, as if in his appreciation of you, you’re liking yourself as well.

“Well, in my opinion, you look quite dashing, Mr. Jeon,” you say bravely. “Except your waistcoat seems to be uneven.”

“Exactly what I thought,” he sighs. “I can’t quite align it properly.”

And as you always do, you approach him, your hands immediately going towards his shoulders to flatten the vest, then his sides to pull it down. You adjust it a little bit more then fix his collar after, and suddenly this feels so natural - being close to him, taking in his scent, and smiling as he glances at you.

“Do you need help with your coat?” You ask once you finish.

He nods and you follow him to his walk-in closet where you take the last piece of clothing and assist him in wearing it. He adjusts the lapels while you assess if all wrinkles have been flattened. You watch him look at himself in the mirror and you can’t help but admire him as well. He exudes confidence, which you can say now is strikingly different from the Appointment Dinner where he still looked a bit unsure. But now, he commands respect. The deep black color of his striped three-piece ensemble with his slick hair parted in the middle makes him even more handsome, and you manage to hold in the gasp you were about to release as he faces you for a final look.

“All good?” He asks.

“All good,” you smile, turning around and walking back to the living room.

He follows, and he takes this time to bask in your beauty before he has to act like it doesn’t affect him again.

There’s a reason why he was rendered speechless the first time he saw you in this gown at the tailor shop, so much so that he had to step out to get some air. You look even more stunning now, with your classic but natural-looking makeup and your styled hair. You exude a certain kind of glow that sucks him in, that makes his heart race yet soothes him just the same.

It’s a little dangerous for him, given that he’ll be spending this entire evening with you as his date, looking the way you do while he has to act disinterested, as if his attraction isn’t slapping him in the face and his internal alarm bells aren’t ringing.

But he has to act professional. He has to stay behind the lines even if his mind is yelling all the words about your beauty that he has to ignore. So he gives himself this short moment where he gets to admire you, and when you make it to the elevator and become confined in a small space, he holds his breath as you smile at him shyly, hoping that he doesn’t give himself away.

He’ll get himself together, he orders to himself, and he’ll make sure he doesn’t scare you off.

You make it to the lobby and enter the car. The drive to the venue is quiet at the beginning. It’s technically not a work day so there’s no reason to discuss work. You and Jungkook may have started talking about non-work matters but it doesn’t mean you readily talk about actual personal things. They’re occasional, as it’s not something he seems to do much and you’re often guarded about yours. It took a while for you to open up to Yoongi and even then, there are many things he doesn’t know. You’re comfortable around him, there’s no denying that, but there are still parts of you that you don’t like to share with others, and you suppose that Jungkook is the same.

But still, you ask how his evening was and how his day went, expecting he’d give a basic answer.

“I just stayed home last night and watched soccer over drinks,” he says. “Then I did my workout and went for a swim this morning. I did a bit of work in the afternoon and then got ready.”

“Ah, no party last night and then recovering from it in the morning?” You tease, knowing that’s a usual occurrence for him. Lucas did mention about the Singapore trip and how he’d taken home a passed out Jungkook on the night of his birthday.

“Well, there was a party,” he responds. “There always is, but I passed up on it. I didn’t want to feel out of sorts tonight. There’ll be a lot of new faces and I don’t wanna mess up.”

“Oh, you won’t. You’ve been doing really well, Mr. Jeon. And that’s me being honest.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” He arches an eyebrow. “Would you tell me otherwise?”

“Well, the me of now, would. The me of a few months ago would want to but wouldn’t.”

Jungkook dwells on your answer. “Hmm. What changed, then?”

“I got used to you.”

He meets your gaze and somehow it feels too long. You don’t really know what prompted you to say it but you felt a little bold, a little too honest.

“In what sense?” he wonders, turning away now.

“I’d say I got used to the mood swings but then again, they haven’t been intense compared to those first few weeks,” you admit. “But surprisingly, it’s the calmness I’ve become accustomed to. And the seriousness and occasional zoning out, but also, the…”

Care, you want to say. Or the thoughtfulness.

“Consideration,” you say instead.

Jungkook’s throat dries up as he finds the words to say. He’s now afraid to look at you because he might give in and say something he’ll regret. He’s been praised before for his work and his designs, but he supposes that no one’s really complimented him for something he does for other people, specifically for you. Maybe that’s why he thinks he doesn’t deserve it; he’s unsure if he’s really considerate by nature or if he just is towards you. It’s why he brushes it off, insisting he just has his moments.

“But those moments could mean a lot to the one it’s shared with or directed to,” you counter. “Even if it was just once. Or even if it was so trivial that you probably forgot already. But the other person doesn’t. Or they would, but something about that moment stays.”

Jungkook thinks about the moments you’d shown him consideration. Or even care or thoughtfulness, but he wouldn’t word it that way to you. There are the big ones - when you showed your support of the Arts Center to his father, when you calmed him down during that first Board meeting, when you gave him the noodles when he was sick, when you stayed with him during his interview with the magazine publications.

When you stood up to him. When you didn’t quit after that first week.

There are also the small moments - the ginger and lemon tea on Monday mornings when he looks like he’d drank too much the night before, the biscuits you serve with his coffee, the affirming looks during team meetings, the comforting smiles from outside his office when he’s stressed.

There’s a lot of those you show him, and he realizes now that he remembers each one.

The silence returns soon after, as you both seem to prefer basking in the soft music that Mr. Ri plays.

It’s 15 minutes later when you arrive at the venue. You get out of the car and meet Jungkook by his door, surprised when he offers his arm that you take.

“This is how they do it, right?” He looks at you questioningly.

“Yes,” you chuckle. “It’s a little over-the-top but the hosts treat this like it’s some red carpet event and I just follow what the others do. Bitna says it’s the one time we could feel like proper ladies or something, whatever that means.”

“Hmm, makes sense. I guess I’ll be a proper gentleman, then. Whatever that means.”

You hold onto him lightly as you both make your way inside. You try to disregard the firmness of his arm and the way it feels under your touch, so you gently let go not long after and clutch onto your purse instead, not wanting to give off the idea that you’re anything more than each other’s dates. You greet the guests and establish your position to those who are unaware in an effort to show that this social event is a work function as well.

Jungkook talks about the Arts Center when he can, and you mentally take note of certain projects, sites, events, artists, and patrons that are mentioned, quickly typing them on your phone for future reference. He talks to you about them in between flutes of champagne and canapes that are some of the most delicious you’ve ever had.

Jungkook laughs as you down another brie and cranberry bruschetta.

“What? I like fancy food,” you pout.

“Yes, your normal people’s taste buds like fancy food,” he teases.

It’s a statement you make often and you smile that he now uses it against you.

Your moments of casual ignorance of what’s going on around you are ones you find yourself enjoying too much. You internally sigh every time a guest approaches him, and even more so when you find yourself with a few others and someone stands a little too close, or has his hand linger on your elbow, or whispers something in your ear as if you’re at a bar and the music is too loud, which it isn’t, so there’s really no reason for this son of some business tycoon to be asking you to head outside “to talk.”

“Don’t you have a date?” You ask after he insists.

“Yeah, some girl,” he shrugs. “She’s kinda boring. Lucky I found you.”

You awkwardly smile, knowing it’s not your place to reject him and make a scene. He looks to be the type who always gets his way and if he doesn’t this time, you’re afraid of how he might take it.

You don’t budge and call for another flute of champagne instead, finishing it in one gulp that has the man releasing a deep breath in front of you.

“So you’ve been working for the Jeon’s for 8 years, you say?” He speaks again.

You nod, looking around to avoid his eyes.

“That’s quite a long time, yeah? I’m sure I can get you a spot at my company,” he brags. “I mean, we sell luxury cars. That’s way more interesting than buildings and shit.”

“I don’t drive,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I don’t know how to.”

“Perfect. I can teach you then,” he smirks.

It’s the look that heightens your level of discomfort, and just as you’re about to make some excuse and run away, Jungkook calls your name that has you immediately turning towards him.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

He’s not too far away; he comes closer yet still maintains a bit of a distance.

“Hoseok’s asking for me but I want to speak to Mr. Saito before he leaves. Can you go to my cousin on my behalf?”

“Of course,” you say, excusing yourself and scurrying away from the scene, sighing in relief at the sight of a familiar pair of faces.

A-yeong gives you a hug and you return it, then you turn to Hoseok and ask what he needs Jungkook for.

“Nothing,” he says. “I didn’t call for him.”

“Oh, okay. Well, he said you did.”

“I haven’t spoken to him since we got here,” Hoseok replies. “You know how this gala goes. So many people to meet. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just… uh. Well, I just met Mr. Kwon’s son. And let’s just say, I don’t want that to happen again.”

“Oh, ___,” A-yeong sighs, knowing exactly what you mean. “Just stay with us. Or don’t leave Jungkook’s side.” Turning towards the man who’d just arrived, she adds, “stay close to her, okay?”

Jungkook looks at you, his eyes asking a question that you know the answer to but neither of you says anything.

“I will,” he nods.

Both of you stay where you are for a while before heading back to your seats for the sit-down dinner. You converse with those at your table, thankful that they’re all decent and entertaining. After that, Jungkook doesn’t leave your side. It almost seems like he’s your date rather than the other way around, but you appreciate his presence, especially when he calls your attention once you start looking uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I just… I just get a little uneasy when people I don’t know get too close.”

“I understand. I’m the same,” he says, prompting you to look at him. “But I just feel uncomfortable, not unsafe. There’s a difference. And it’s not okay if that’s how they make you feel.”

He knew without you saying the words. It takes you back to that night at the restaurant with Hajoon and how Jungkook had looked the most guilty he’d ever been when you said that his staring made you feel uncomfortable. You supposed then that it was mostly because he thought he was causing a rift between you and Hajoon but you realize now that it was more than that. For all that Jungkook is, you’ve come to see that there are things he can’t stand himself doing; deliberately making you feel unsafe is definitely one of them. Perhaps it’s why at this moment, you feel the exact opposite being around him.

And that’s how the rest of the night goes. He stays close but when he’s caught up in a conversation he can’t get out of, he gives you that look to remind you that it’s okay to step away, that you have the ability to remove yourself from a situation you don’t feel good being in. And you do, and the worry you used to have about being a mere assistant fades away. You never thought that one Jeon Jungkook would give you the permission to do that.

You’re seated on a chair some time later, the hours of walking in your high heels taking its toll on you. You wave to Hoseok and A-yeong, no longer having the energy to walk up to them for a proper goodbye. You sigh to yourself, feeling the tiredness slowly overtake you. It was still a good night, but it took a lot of energy from you, too.

“Hey,” you hear Jungkook call out.

You turn to him, still looking handsome as he stands nearby, his hands in his pockets as he mirrors your exhaustion.

“Ready to head home?” He asks.

“Yes,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh.

You stand up, limping only a tiny bit, but you think Jungkook notices, as he offers his arm just like he did at the start of the night.

“This is what a proper gentleman does, right?” He asks.

“I suppose. Although I might say, Mr. Jeon, that’s what you were the entire time. So thank you.”

Jungkook nods in response, unsure how to receive your gratitude. He knows what you mean, as the first sign of your discomfort had him looking at you constantly. He was worried all night but he supposes there’s no reason to feel that way now, as your faint smile just signifies that you’re tired more than anything.

For the short moment it takes for you to walk closer to him, he basks in your beauty once more. The night will be over soon, and he’s glad he could give you some reprieve this time. He tries not to lose it when you tighten your grip on his arm for support though, but that’s something he can think about later on.

The walk to the car isn’t that long and you let go of him eventually. You head towards the other door then enter, the space in between reminding him of where you both belong - on either side of a line, one that he shouldn’t think of crossing.

You sink into your seat, fighting the urge to curl your body and take a nap, so you sit up straight and hold yourself together after once again feeling Jungkook’s arm under your touch. Most of the alcohol has left your system but perhaps not enough, as you boldly look at him and smile in appreciation. He returns it, perhaps knowing why you are.

You look out the window, appreciating Seoul’s night sky, until the vision starts getting unclear, as the rain falls steadily on the window. The tapping of the droplets on the glass is a sound you’ve come to appreciate, among other things that you used to be terrified of.

There’s just this calmness, as if the rain is greeting you, accompanying you in your thoughts. But the sound of the radio getting louder disrupts that a little bit, and in looking at Mr. Ri in question only to find him glancing at the rearview mirror to see the man next to you, do you realize why he’s doing so.

Jungkook’s demeanor has changed, a complete 180 to how he looked not long ago when he seemed satisfied, fulfilled, almost proud of himself for surviving the night. He’s now cross-legged and cross-armed, with his eyes closed and jaws clenched, as if he’s trying to hold himself together. Or trying his best to drown out the sound of the rain, the way Mr. Ri is trying to do for him.

Your face falls at the sight. You’ve seen Jungkook stressed and angry and disappointed; you’ve seen him anxious, too, but this is different. There’s a bit of fear in there, and with the way he flinches and how he’s clutching onto his arms, you know this comes from somewhere and this was caused by something. If it’s anything similar to what you know, then this was because of something painful.

You want to reach out to him but you know you shouldn’t. You helplessly look back on the road then glance at Jungkook every few seconds as the rain continues. It doesn’t seem like it will be a terrible downpour but it’s stronger than usual.

You try to remember instances in the past where he’d acted this way. A few come to mind, and you think now there’s a reason why he becomes uneasy when it starts to drizzle. That happened the other week while you were on a site visit with him for a small project, but you hadn’t thought much of it, given that he was on his fourth cup of coffee on the way there.

But right now, you wish there was something more you could do; anything is better than nothing. But you feel constrained - by the distance, by your position, by his boundaries that seem to always be there.

By some miracle, the rain weakens, and it’s stopped by the time you arrive at Jungkook’s apartment building. The car halts and with him still in the same position, you think he probably doesn’t realize he’s home.

“Mr. Jeon,” you say softly, gently tapping his arm to get his attention. “We’ve reached your place. And the rain has stopped. It’s… it’s okay to open your eyes now.”

It takes a few seconds but he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, then looks around. It’s just droplets frozen in time on his window and he sighs in relief. Somehow the assurance that he’s okay means something to you this time; you hate to think of what burden he carries that he hides away.

He opens the door, and there’s a bit of disappointment you feel when he closes it and leaves without a goodbye. You suppose he just wants to get to his place immediately and rush to safety. But you don’t want to intrude, not if distance is what he needs, so you settle with just watching him walk away.

But then he turns around, and with that bit of boldness left in your body, you open the window and give him another smile. You wish he feels the tenderness in it; you wish somehow it’s enough to let him know that you understand, and that he’s not alone.

“Good night,” you manage to say, and he hears it despite the distance.

“Good night, ___. And thank you.”

It’s the use of your name. It’s the softness of his smile and the words of gratitude. It’s the way he lingers as the car starts to drive away and you’re left watching him even from afar.

It lets you know that he knows. And it’s the reason why you sleep soundly that night and why for the first time since you’ve met him, you can’t wait to see him again.

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goldsbitch · 4 months

Text

That one missed lecture

part 3 to That one Christmas flight

summary: After a missed moment, both parties are trying to contemplate what to do next.

warnings: crushing hard, cheesy af, swear words I guess, typos probably, slow burn let's just admit that

"A what?"

Surely she must have misheard Teresa. Yes. Lando has been on Y/N's mind so much these past few days that she has officially lost it.

"Sorry, not what. Who?"

"I dunno, apparently this like formula racer or something. I don't really understand it - so like we were at Al Bricco right, as usual. And there was this guy who seemed to be super into that sport and he totally freaked out. Like, the racer guy just went in and immediately left, kind of embarrassing. He like proper asked for a photo and shit. And after the racer guy left, this dude was so high off that he paid for everyone's drinks at the bar. Was nice! Shame you had the thing you had, or whatever."

Yes. Or whatever. Y/N made up some excuse for last evening, so mundane even she forgot what it was.

It was Monday afternoon after the Imola weekend. The philosophy lesson was about to start in few minutes. Y/N cursed Teresa for keeping this one tiny detail about yesterday. For fuck's sake, they'd already had two classes together today! Plenty of opportunity to mention this. Nobody famous ever came to Bologna. Y/N would expect Teresa to make it a bigger deal. But then again, usually it would not be a big deal for neither of you.

"Yeah, shame I didn't order a bottle instead of a glass," Teresa proclaimed.

"Did you see him? The racer guy?"

"Yeah. He looked like a guy, honestly nothing special about him."

"Do you know like his name or the team?"

"No, the fuck would I know that. You're focusing on the wrong thing - you missed a fun night with free drinks."

Y/N felt like her mind just got the DRS.

There were 20 drivers on the grid - the chances were low. Y/N overcame her initial shock and tried to focus on the lecture that was about to start.

For some reason Hegel's Lord-bondsman dialectic was not able to win in the battle for Y/N's attention today. Since Teresa was of little help, Y/N turned to social media. Surely, this fan must have shared his photo online. And then, once she finally discovers the photo of Ocon or Tsunoda, she will be abel to return back to her actual real problems instead of her schoolgirl crush.

They say if you need to find the "corpus delicti" these days, ask a woman to scan social media. Source more powerful than FBI.

Y/N had to excuse herself after staring at a photo of Lando's fake smile while standing in her favorite bar. Pacing around was required right now. After all, show us a problem that can't be fixed by maniacally walking around the block seven hundred times.

In her favorite bar. Lando was in her bar. In a bar, where she would have been, hadn't it been for her actually trying to track down Lando. Out of all the places on this gigantic planet. In. Her. Favorite. Bar. Must have been some random game of destiny. Y/N was getting real mad at destiny. She cursed the stupid Christmas tradition, she cursed ever getting herself involved with formula 1.

She cursed herself for missing him. In both meanings of the word.

Lando forgot when exactly had his burner account turned completely Bologna centered. But it was impossible to escape that city. So he decided to leave that account be for a while.

His fitness trainer must have been happy with him. Lando burned his the tension and confused mix of feelings in his session like his life depended on it. He went on to stream in his free time to check in on his friends, who seemed a bit confused on where his head had been lately. In the course of few days, life got back on track. Y/N slowly leaving his mind and he parting with it peacefully. Yet every was covered under a gray cloud of nothingness.

It was a simulator day for him. He was supposed be testing new configurations. Lando was never really good at simulators, it completely lacked the realness of it, so he had to push himself to stay professional and be a proper teammate.

"I'm just not sure about this breaking set up," he commented quietly, perhaps even more to himself than others after missing another turn. His engineer however picked up on it and started to get into super detailed explanation on why they wanted him to use this configuration and did not fail to mention how great it job it did for Oscar this morning. Lando simply nodded and did not bother to engage in eye contact. He was in no mood for this debate and kept staring at the screen. Just let it all flow by him. This engineer had been on the team for quite some time, so he did not hesitate to try and cheer him up.

"Come on, man. You can't just sit there. The car won't start if you don't go for it, you know?" he said as a joke. When Lando did not respond, he began to second guess his judgement. "Or we could just take a break, what ever suits you."

Lando took a deep breath. "No, you're right. I can't just sit here and do nothing." He turned to his engineer with a different more energetic look. "When I crash, we just start again next time, am I right?"

"That's my boy!"

Y/N woke up the next morning to suspiciously large amount of notifications on her Instagram account. Someone liked every single one of her pictures and few of those where she was tagged and commented on one of her selfies "nice". Curious to what this was about, she went and checked the profile out. The only thing present on it was a black and white photo with some random numbers and letters. Ok, so nothing. Just some random weirdo or a drunken joke of one the uni friends. Because for a single moment she allowed her intrusive thoughts in - and expected Lando's account to be the one liking it.

Contemplating breaking the rule and reaching out to him was the only thing occupying her yesterday's evening. But what good would that do, his account probably being run by some PR people who would dismiss it as just another fangirl trying her chances. She thought a photo might be more helpful, but it was just the same thing all over again. No, she missed her chance and it was time to start moving on.

Her usual morning brain fog breaking espresso at a coffee bar in the centre did it's job well. A lot of paragraphs she was due to write were waiting on her. Only one lecture in the afternoon. A nice calm day to spend in one of the libraries. She loved Bologna. Great food and ever-present history has cured many crushes through out the ages.

"also nice" -another notification from the same account. Y/N contemplated blocking it, but it just seemed rude, so she just silenced her phone.

When took her phone out to listen to some music on the way to her lecture, she had three more comment.

"very nice" -appeared under a photo from one of her dinner parties with the local students.

"why no smile?" -it was a selfie, so what?

"thought you were the smart one, but starting to doubt that" - written under a random photo of Bologna's stunning libraries. So what, she enjoyed aesthetics too.

The one comment questioning her brain capacity stuck in head whole the way to her lecture. What the fuck was that about. Why was anyone spending their time so uselessly. The only thing on that profile was picture with some JL043 mash of letters. She had more important things to do.

A loud ding of her comments notification interrupted the lecture in the middle of it. She gave an apologetic look to her already grumpy professor.

"check my followers"

She sighed. That's it, she'll have a look and then block this asshole out.

Her heart sank when she saw that the only account this one was following was the Japan Airlines. JL043. The Christmas flight.

Y/N has already left one lecture because of Lando this week, so she was not about to it for the second time. But she might have as well done that, seeing she would not have been able to repeat a single point from this lecture.

Lando was not a patient man. Especially not after he has decided on something. And he decided on contacting Y/N. With the newfound fire in his veins, another burner account was created - can't let her see he was following every single one of her friends, bit weird. Well, once you've started you might as well finish it. Lando was happy that he did not posses any serial killer tendencies.

He was also a cheeky boy, not about to make it easy for anyone. Had to be fun.

So he liked all her pictures and put few comments. When she did not respond immediately in the morning, he continued. And again, and again. In the later afternoon, Y/N's account followed his and smile on Lando's face followed after that.

A message appeared shortly after.

"Hey you..."

part 4

_________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1 @superlegend216

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papercraneswemade · 2 years

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Weekend Mornings Headcanons (Part 4)

A/N: We're finally on the last part of this series! Thank you to everyone who had stuck until the end. I'll probably make a one-post headcanons after this but only limited to some agents.

Part 1: here

Part 2: here

Part 3: here

Skye

Lazy cuddles are not on her dictionary. "Mondays, Sundays, who cares? Ya gotta be sharp everyday!" She says. Which is why the bed is always cold when you wake up. You didn't mind at first but one time you just groaned and said, "it's Saturday and yesterday night I went to sleep alone because you weren't back yet so you better stay or I will make you." Skye's eyes widened at your demand and quickly snuggled onto you, kissing your nose before saying, "whatever you say, your majesty."

That's when you know you LOVE being spoiled by Skye, and Skye loves spoiling you any chance she gets. She would workout and if you're still sleeping by the time she's done, she would cook you a simple breakfast, however if you're already awake in the middle of her workout, you cook her a huge breakfast to replenish her energy. Bonus: you always have to slap Phoenix's hand away from stealing a piece of bacon.

Skye has a hard time relaxing because she feels the need to do something productive everytime, so she's really thankful to have you in her life that tells her to lay back and relax. But habits are hard to change, so every Saturday you both would watch a movie in the morning, then go do something productive (Skye would learn more about her power and you'd watch or even train with her), and on the evening you would go somewhere to get dinner.

After dinner, you both would go back to your room and pick an activity for Sunday morning. She would be delighted if you agree for a hike, but anything else will do just fine.

She would purposefully workout for a little longer, because when you cook for her you like to hum and sing and sway your hips (and she cannot stop looking at your ass). If she finds you like that, she walks up to you and hug you from behind and whisper in your ear, "breakfast smells delicious, love." She enjoys making you blush.

Sova

Good Lord help me I am in love with this man. He would be an absolute teddy bear you'd cuddle with every night, except this one hugs you back. Doesn't mind being the little spoon. Since he's Brim's right hand man it's obvious he needs to be ready before everyone else, so he pecks you on the cheek before starting his day. On weekends, however, he wakes up and admire your sleeping figure. His knuckles would gently caress your cheek and he'd smile unconsciously.

"Stay in bed, I'll make breakfast," he said, but you knew he went to bed pretty late last night so you told him you'd cook instead. Since he has a hard time saying no, he feels guilty at first, but everytime he does you assure him you want to do this for him simply because you love him. It took a while, but now he can finally kick back and relax without any guilt in his mind.

Which is how breakfast in bed became a tradition for your Saturday mornings. Sova insist on taking you out for a morning walk so you could at least squeeze a little exercise in (that ended up being a 5 km stroll which hurt your feet) but the satisfaction in his eyes makes it all worth it.

Even on weekends Brimstone still gives him orders and it worries you (and Viper and Sage as well) since you know he's going to accept. Sometimes the bed is cold, but he makes sure to always come back to you, and for now it's good enough. He makes it up by buying you flowers or chocolates. When he hugs you just a little bit tighter, you knew something crucial happened on his mission. You didn't push, he will tell you when he wants to. Both of you noticed Brim gives him less and less missions on weekends, though, but in the end you both were thankful for the free time given (and for Sage and Viper for threatening Brimstone).

I feel like he's the type to lay on your chest while you play with his hair as you both just talk about everything. He overdramatize his adventure stories back in Russia, and you ramble on and on about your home country. "Your home sounds great, love," he said, a silent promise of him going there with you.

Viper

She won't wake you up because she knows how cranky you get in the morning. She'll run for 30 minutes before getting ready (and she'll do it super early to avoid any interactions).

You sleep while she's writing her reports and you'll wake up to her writing her reports as well (yes even on weekends), so one time you woke up in the middle of night to hide her report so she'll have no option but to lay in bed with you. That backfired as you woke up to her frantically searching the reports before you guiltily handed them back to her. She straight up asked why you did that, and when you answered her face softened a little. She apologizes by taking you somewhere fancy for breakfast.

Since then you learn to compromise. There are times when Viper has no choice but to do her job, but when there's no job at all, she learns to take it easy and enjoy spending time doing nothing with you (though if you have long hair she insist on playing with it). Sometimes you both like to rewatch old movies just to reminisce.

Speaking of breakfast, the only thing she has for breakfast is a mug of black coffee without anything to eat. You tried to cook something for her but you end up almost burning the kitchen down. She appreciates the effort, but she'll appreciated you even more if you stop trying to cook something without anyone's supervision.

One time you woke up earlier than her and you were too busy admiring her sleeping face she woke up suprised to see you staring blankly at her. What you didn't know is that Viper does the same thing to you, she stares at you for some time and imagined a future where there's no danger or threats of war. Then everytime she promises to herself she'll do anything to keep you out of harm, even if it meant sacrificing herself. She has done a lot of things wrong, but this one, she'll do it right.

Yoru

This dude fucking snores and that's why you woke up at 4 A.M on a Saturday. Also is a heavy sleeper and when you smacked him awake on a Sunday he wrestled and apprehended you out of instinct. It was worth it as you get to see his messy hair from a lower angle. So you decided the best part of waking up next to him is seeing his hair down and almost black due to the blue streak getting covered.

You serve him breakfast in bed, he refuses to admit but he likes being spoiled as well, so he really looks forward to Saturday mornings because he gets to wake up to forehead kisses and your very own cooking.

Goes for a morning jog with you when he found out you couldn't run for a long time. At first he was pushy to the point you ask him to stop because he was hurting you unintentionally. He apologized (as he was unfamiliar with being in a relationship) and explained the reason why he was actively trying to push you. You both compromised and decided on Sunday morning to go jogging together, and he was patient with helping you form a better endurance.

You take showers together after that! You're pretty conscious of your body, but he assures you he loves every part of you. Sometimes it's the other way around, he's afraid you'll get scared by the scars on his back, but one night you gently kissed them and tells him how brave he was (he might have shed a tear on that).

He's not really a touchy person, so if he wakes up first he'll read comics or watch something on his phone (he's too embarrassed to admit he doesn't want to start his day without you). One time he tried cooking breakfast for you and it ended up...less than edible. So now he just waits for you to wake up before you do stuff together.

And we're done! Sorry it took so long 😭 drop some request for me to write! Thank you for waiting for the final update 🌸

A/N: thank you so much for the 110 likes on the 1st part!! You all motivated me to write more!!

#valorant x reader #valorant imagines #valorant headcanons #valorant #skye x reader #sova x reader #viper x reader #yoru x reader

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fairyswg · 3 months

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bunny <3

I love you very very much. I really hope you read this sometime. All the way through. I think you were wrong about me.

I wrote you an essay, this isn't it. I was going to hide it somewhere in a place only you could find. And then I was going to retire this account so it'd stay only for you. I thought you deserved a really romantic gesture, you still do, but not that one and probably not from me.

I still think I'll probably retire this account.

I want start by saying I'm really sorry for upsetting you over last weekend. Before that Friday I'd spent the past week closing myself off as I watched you get further and further away from me and once you came back it came rushing out and then it closed up again. I wanted to wait until I was open again, because that's what you deserve. I think I probably ended up making you feel the way I did that passed week. Opening yourself up for someone only for them to parade around talking to other people and still ignoring you. I hope you know I never ignored you. The same way I know you weren't ignoring me.

When you came back on Monday you were upset and I understand why. I really am sorry. You must've felt like I'd just left you out to dry after you'd tried to open back up for me and the mess I made outside of that couldn't have helped in the least.

But when you did come back I was still glued shut, and I'd been trying really hard to be me again. For the first time ever it became really hard to open up. You were rightfully upset but what you said in your anger was horrifying for me. I don't think you know the power you have over me, the total control you have over me.

You know I'm not full of myself, or self-centred. You know that I don't act a certain way or lie. You know that I've never tried to guilt trip you. But I can't know that. Not for certain. Not always. So when you said those things, just like in December, I couldn't help but believe you. I rarely ever stand up for myself, not with someone I love as much as you. You know - most of all - that I always do listen to you. I think that was the biggest problem. I trust your word so much that I take everything you say as the truth. Obviously I don't blame you at all, you were upset and I should've recognised that, it was me that put so much weight on the words you said.

I think I've only ever lost myself twice in my life. The first time in December, when I hurt you and you told me just how awful I'd been, I started to genuinely believe I was evil. I started questioning the intentions I had behind every nice thing I did, even the things I did unconsciously. It took me weeks to forgive myself for it. I still know what I did was horrible, I’m still so sorry. I swore I'd never let it happen again, but when I hurt you again last week and you called me all those things, the same thing happened. I went crazy, I'm really sorry for how I acted, I was completely hysterical.

I wrote you an essay on Tuesday, when I still believed I was some sort of gross sociopathic weirdo, but it didn't feel right posting it. It was only yesterday, Wednesday, in the afternoon that I finally talked to a friend about it and hearing myself cry, hearing myself talk about you, how much I love you, was enough to remind me how innocent my love for you really is. The love I have for you is the purest thing I’ve ever cultivated. All those times you hurt me and I forgave you. All those times you left and you came back. I was never confident at all that you'd come back, I'm not cocky or proud in that way. I mourned you every time you left. Even the very first time, when you were only gone for a morning. That was the first time I cried over someone leaving me.

And every time I let you back in it was because I really thought I could make you happy. I hope you know already that I really really tried to make you happy. The most beautiful thing you showed me was always your smile, the most beautiful things you said to me were always,

'You've changed me for the better',

'You're the best thing that's ever happened to me',

'You make it easier to breathe',

'You make me feel alive.'

I gave you everything, over and over again. I love you but when you called me what you did you made me question my intentions, to the point I believed I was insane. Those things you labelled me with, I almost let manifest in myself, because that's how sacred your word is to me. You say I don't listen but it's the exact opposite. You have always been everything to me. Over and over again you carved your name into my bones and now I’ll always feel you when I pick at my scars.

I don't think I'll ever post that essay now, parts of it are lovely and I wish I could show you those parts, but there are parts I despise. The little flicks of self-loathing and pity, it reads like a letter from a bad dog who'd disobeyed its owner. I love you more than anything, but you can't convince me I was a bad dog. I can say with the utmost certainty now that everything I did - I did because I wanted to make you happy, even the mistakes I made. Even the times I disobeyed you, I only wanted to impress you or make you proud of me in some way but all those times when you disapproved it felt like you’d slapped me in the face, and not in a good way 0_o .

I really hope this doesn’t hurt you at all. I let myself go and I’m the only one to blame. I promised you I wouldn’t let you ruin me, and you haven’t. I’m sure we’ll both be okay. I know I don’t really want to love anyone else for a long while. I know I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you. You’re still the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re still so perfect. I really wish we could’ve been better for each other.

The things I said about you in that essay are things you deserve to hear thousands of times, you deserve everything, but I think it should come from another boy now (or girl ^-^). You really are everything. I keep editing this because I want to say more nice things, I know I should leave it to someone else now but you really mean so much to me. You’re the kindest, warmest most loving person I’ve ever met. I remember everything we used to talk about, I always will now. You told me you wanted to be a teacher, I think you’ll be the best teacher there is.

You're already looking for another boy to love, I can't help but feel a little betrayed by that. But I love you more than anything. These past 5 months would've been the worst of my life without you, but you made me the happiest I've ever been. I'll always love you so much. I think I'll miss you long after you forget my name, but I don't mind. I still hope I'll be a fairy in your mind somewhere, the same way you'll always be hopping through mine.

I love you forever bunny <3

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mickcedesagenda · 1 year

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04.03.2023 | BAHRAIN QUALIFYING

I couldn't watch FP3 yesterday and missed almost all of Qualifying live because the power went out, but I was able to watch it on replay :)

I couldn't believe that a piece of bodywork had blown off Charles' car, and they couldn't even give him an answer.

I'm surprised that Lance was able to get out of Q1 in the final minutes, considering his condition. But he was awesome all the same.

Another one that surprised me was Pierre, because why is Pierre P20 with a damn Alpine?

Curiously, the three rookies were eliminated in Q1. It makes sense, but at the same time, I was hoping that at least one would go into Q2 (Piastri, specifically). Logan was so close. It was bad luck, I guess.

It's a pity that Kevin got knocked out in Q1.

This was a really interesting Qualifying, compared to last season at least. I like that the competition is closer. I hope the season is full of this.

I have to say, it bothers me so much that Alex didn't make it to Q3. I'm convinced that he genuinely would have done it with enough time.

Lance's pace is impressive, as he has moved into Q3 at the last moment again.

That being said, Lando ended up eliminated (I feel everyone was celebrating haha). McLaren is bad and is a shame for the drivers. It's still interesting that last year they focused a lot on how Daniel was outqualified by Lando, while Lando narrowly missed Q3 this time. I hope it makes them realize that the biggest problem is the car. They need to accept their mistakes in order to improve.

I don't have much to say about Max, just that he's a beast. 1:29.897? What? Incredible, simply incredible.

I'll admit that I don't really want to see Red Bull dominate because I'm more interested in seeing a fight between two or more teams (The Big 3 + Aston Martin), but the way Max and Checo dominated at the last moment was awesome.

Now Charles. God. 1:30.000 is very impressive, and it wasn't enough. But that's not my problem, my problem is that he had to retire. According to them [Ferrari and Charles], he withdrew to be able to use softs tomorrow, but if it's a strategy, why did Charles react like that when he got out of the car? They say it's not a mechanical problem, but I don't believe them, sorry.

I love Carlos, but his pace has not been the best this weekend, much less in Qualifying. I want to think it's because of a new car that's not at its best, but… P4 is a good place anyway, as long as you're not Carlos Sainz and George Russell is not behind you.

FERNANDO ALONSO WAS INCREDIBLE. I know he got P5, but considering that Aston Martin was struggling and the Alpine was uncooperative last season, P5 seems unbelievable. Fernando was great all weekend and is known to be great at overtaking. Starting further back is no problem for him.

You know what? I don't even want to talk about Mercedes. Which is weird because I always want to talk about Mercedes. They haven't had a good pace in qualifying, even in the first round of the season, and that's worrying. Hopefully, it's just Bahrain, but I'm not expecting much from them anymore.

Lance and Esteban were great. They did really well.

Hulkenberg? In a Haas? In Q3? They deleted his lap time, so he was down to P10, which is still kinda impressive, but oh well.

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dansnaturepictures · 1 year

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22nd January 2023 post 1 of 3: Lymington (The wildlife)

We came back here today and saw three species it’s a good place to see for the first time this year; a dinky Ringed Plover on an island in a frozen Normandy lagoon, imposing Spoonbill distant in the estuary and a fine view of a smart Spotted Redshank. All very welcome additions to my year list and ones I admire to take my year list to 127, pipping last year by two to already mean I’ve seen more birds after one month of a year than ever this year which I am thrilled to achieve. It has been a whirlwind of a month already and an amazing birdwatching one with so much seen. Having seen Greenshank and Common Redshank standout birds today also earlier in the walk at the point where we saw the Spotted Redshank by the bridge we had the amazing moment of seeing Spotted Redshank, Redshank and Greenshank all wading near to each other. One of those birding moments out when things align perfectly to create a textbook in the mudflats to compare the features of the three waders which was really interesting and brilliant to see. It was quite interesting also that in 2018 the same day we went to see Hawfinches at Mercer Way (which we did yesterday) I got Greenshank and Spotted Redshank as year ticks here and saw the two side by side at this point by the bridge. I took the sixth picture in this photoset of the Greenshank earlier in the walk and final two pictures in this set of the Spotted Redshank.

There were strong connected moments to nature this afternoon seeing Avocets seeking new sanctuary on bits of land out to sea with their usual Normandy lagoon haunt frozen always elegant birds to see I enjoyed seeing one flying today which is always great too, immersive sights and sounds of Brent Geese especially flying over birds I love, the stunning sound and sight of Mute Swans flying ahead and magical sounds from Curlews’ wings as some flew over. There was also an astonishing moment as a Curlew flew into an area the other side of the sea wall to the path further up and as we walked by it stayed put surprisingly, meaning we uncharacteristically for this species got some sensational intimate views of the bird. What a special species to observe so closely, I took the second and third pictures in this photoset of this bird. Other highlights today were Goldeneye out to sea, Little Egrets including close views of one which I took the seventh picture in this photoset of and one flying by a pipe where another emerged from near and chased it which was great and Little Grebes including four at once near each other on Eight Acre pond where there were a few so this was great. I am thankful to a kind couple we got speaking to as the gentlemen walked back towards us after walking on after the conversation to show us the Spoonbills and ensured we’d noticed the Curlew too.

It was also fantastic to see and get to photograph a Kingfisher on the icy moat like channel around Normandy lagoon, it was atmospheric to see this bird probably the one that was our first of the year here three weeks ago today to the back drop of the frost and ice of the lagoon behind, and I cherished some powerful and cracking views of this colourful bird. Obviously these were the star of our Winnall Moors visit yesterday and with this being somewhere we’ve seen them so much over the years and this year already I had a funny feeling it might be in the script for me to see and photograph a Kingfisher again this weekend. I took the first, fourth and fifth pictures in this photoset of it. It is always an honour to see them so this was a big moment and I possibly saw another flying over the sea.

Charmingly on the way in and out where we had seen Roe Deers three weeks ago on New Year’s Day and before we saw Roe Deers in fields, eight of them which is more than I’ve seen at once before I believe. In flower gorse especially to the backdrop of ice was a nice floral sight today I took the eighth picture in this photoset of some gorse with cleavers seen nicely in the lane.

Wildlife Sightings Summary for Lymington: My first Ringed Plover, Spoonbill and Spotted Redshank of the year, Kingfisher, Great Crested Grebes seen nicely, Shelduck nicely seen flying over, Brent Geese, Little Egret, Canada Geese seen nicely, Mute Swan, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Wigeon, Shoveler on Eight Acre pond which we’d not seen before possibly driven there by the freezing of the lagoon water which I could say about Redshank on that pond too, Gadwall, Goldeneye, Little Grebe, Cormorant, Grey Heron, Black-headed Gull, Curlew, Lapwing, Avocet, Oystercatcher, Redshank, Greenshank, Dunlin, probable Turnstone, Stonechat seen really well, Pied Wagtail seen well, Greenfinch seen nicely in the lane at the start, Robin and Roe Deer.

My next two posts are about the landscape at Lymington and bits at home and on journeys today.

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lifewithoutmeds · 1 year

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may 18, 2023

depressed.

i think i failed to mention that lorena had been here last weekend. she had let me know earlier and that she’d try to see me/get dinner/drinks, and so i kind of left some of my weekend open in the event she got around to seeing me. i think saturday was pretty free and then sunday was church, lunch at a japanese place, and then armstrong gardens with my mom. it felt like a good chunk of time together and we both seemed pleased with the outing.

on monday she texted after my lunch whether i’d had lunch to which i said i had (it was about 1:30 p.m.) then she said that she must’ve gotten food poisoning or something from the previous day’s carne asada that she had whilst visiting reyna’s family in san bernardino and wasn’t feeling well and next thing i knew on tuesday at 6 she texted an apology for not being able to see me.

i had mixed feelings. i kinda figured she wouldn’t see me as she didn’t seem to be making many pains to go through with it, and she was here for just a short time and it was to see her gf and meet her gf’s family/mom, which she did, so she did what she set out to do and i guess if there had been a ton of dead time she might’ve tried to see if i was available but i got the impression it wasn’t a high priority for her, and perhaps hurt by that notion, i tried not to make it a high priority for me either.

come tuesday and i was both vindicated and validated and also weirdly felt almost in a slight position of power when i got her text. i was glad she was sorry because that meant she cared, or realized she was supposed to care, or realized that she should at least act like she cared. i felt a lot of things. but i felt like the ball was in my court and i didn’t know how to respond. punish her with silence? lay it on thick how shitty it made me feel? how insignificant? but that would betray, once again, that my feelings for her were stronger than hers for me, the old tale, and what would be the purpose of bringing that up. or play it off like i didn’t care, which would be a sort of a passive aggressive dig on my part. i went back and forth and finally texted her back at 1:34 a curt: thanks for reaching out. i’ll see you next time.

i felt cold and a bit shaky when i sent it, but i felt it was better than crying to her, and better than silence, and i don’t know why i thought that was the only option, but now for several hours i have been waiting, agonized, panicking, desperate, desolate, and all the old hurts and angers and sads came raging back and i had to stop from punching all the ugly people’s faces at costco while i icily navigated my stupid cart with my stupid toilet paper.

i should also note that i’m trying to wean off lexapro and ability but haven’t yet gotten my prescription for lamichtol, so ... not sure if it’s just the angry mood disorder that’s flaring up now that i’m kinda not being regularly medicated. just lots of feelings coursing through me, and most are bad, which makes me feel a little sad because i thought i had made/was making such good progress with the morning routine and the healthy diet, etc. like all my gains suddenly seemed like nothing, even though i know that that’s not quite true.

i’ve lost a couple pounds this week and have been a caloric deficit while maintaining a high amount of protein, so i know, objectively, that i am getting better even though today i don’t feel better.

i watched this youtube video yesterday or the day before that you can’t be in love with the results, you have to be in love with the process. you can’t measure a business by a single day’s profits or even a week’s or a month’s because everything fluctuates. he also said that he can’t resolve to increase his youtube viewership, he can only commit to making the best product that he can and if youtube viewers follow, it’s a bonus. in that way i guess i have to be in love with the process of pursuing health. i think i read/saw/heard something to the effect that the person who likes walking is able to walk longer than the one who is ... something else. but something measurable.

anyway. i have a 8:30 scheduled google chat with LD today so we can discuss the upcoming camping trip. hopefully it’ll help get my mind off of things.

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awakeandalive2012 · 1 year

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(Not) Sticking the Landing - The end of 2022 in Review

**Edit from this morning: I started this yesterday when everything was fresh, but now that I have had time to reflect, I want to make sure I get my thoughts out there before the year officially ends at midnight. **

I am not sure I am in the right head space to be making this post, but since everything is fresh in my mind, I just want to put it out there.

This holiday season was not as cheery and bright as I wanted i to bet. I came down with COVID 19 after nearly three years of avoiding it. It all started the week before Christmas. I have mostly recovered from it (nearly two weeks later) and it was not a joke. I just felt really upset throughout the whole thing: I followed the rules, I masked up, I had gotten a booster and flu vaccine this past September, and yet I still contracted the virus. I believe I was the only one to get sick from my group (if I can accurately pinpoint where I believe I contracted it from). I had to miss our annual family gathering for both Christmas and New Year's because of this (and not wanting to get our family sick). I just hope I feel 100% soon. I was disappointed as I wanted to get some stuff done and see my family for the holidays. But we made it work regardless. Our Christmas was still full of smiles, hot chocolate, and Christmas movies galore. Even with COVID, I enjoyed my holidays with my loved ones (my husband and Lucy, our adorable dog).

Then the big one; the bang to end my 2022. For context, I finally sold my old Honda Element. For those that knew me, I loved that car. I finally decided to upgrade to a new car. Not even two months after I finally got everything sorted, my car was the victim of a an attempted hit and run in our grocery store parking lot. I had a guardian angel watching over me that day, as I was not in the car (I was grocery shopping at the time) but a key witness saw everything and brought the man who hit my car inside to confront me. To tell you the truth, I was, and still am, shaken about the whole event. I was in absolutely shock. When they called my car information over the loud speaker, I seriously hoped that it wasn't me or that my car had only gotten broken into (which I was used to). I just stood there, I tried to stay composed and gather as much information as possible. I went through a wild ride of emotions: shock, anger, sadness, stress and anxiety. And of course, on a holiday weekend, there is only so much power and answers I can received at this time. I have an amazing support system and have gotten so much advice and answers thus far. I just hope that I can move on from this and begin my 2023 on a much better foot than what I landed on.

Happy New Year all <3

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alanm00ch · 2 years

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NASCAR Street Race - My thoughts

So if you’ve been out of the loop, there have been rumblings in NASCAR about taking the Cup cars to the streets of a major city as far back as December of 2020. The rumblings had talks of Chicago being the lead off to this experiment.

I made a huge case for Denver to get a race in a blog I put together on May 8th, 2021. (Ugh. 2021. Get me away from that year.) If you missed that blog, I brought up the following. 1) Colorado’s love of sports 2) the star power of Colorado sports 3) Iconic sports venues, famous landmarks, and mountain backdrop

I did bring up some challenges that would come along with hosting a street race such as traffic, noise complaints, city could lose money, and the fact that Denver has the unique additional challenge of being 1 mile above sea level, making the thin air an extra challenge for the teams and drivers. But in that blog, I failed to point something out. Street racing really isn’t the best style of racing in the world when it comes to the top levels of racing... IMSA and IndyCar being the outliers as they have cars that are built to race on the streets. IndyCar races on the streets, while not always a thrilling race, provides good entertainment to be had and are really fun in person. I would know, I went to the 2011 Baltimore Grand Prix. NASCAR, on the other hand? We’re talking about a 1.5 ton stock car racing that is purpose built to be raced on tracks from the high banks of Daytona and Talladega to the tiny little short tracks of Bristol and Martinsville. NASCAR road course racing isn’t exactly the best nor is it that entertaining to watch a vast majority of the time. Looking at Sonoma in particular. Anyway, the rumblings have turned into a roar. It was confirmed yesterday that the NASCAR Cup Series will indeed be racing on the streets of Chicago. Want me to be perfectly honest? I’m not thrilled. The more I think about it, the less enthusiastic I am.

We got that street course race, yes. But Chicago? Really? You could’ve put a street race anywhere in the US (cough, cough, Denver, cough cough), hell, gone north of the US border to Toronto, south to Mexico City, and yet, you chose Chicago? Why? So you can chase a market that doesn’t care for the product? And that’s the only thing that has me not thrilled about it. The track itself, tested on iRacing, doesn’t inspire any confidence in this race being any good at all.

Credit to NASCAR.com for this track image, but I want you guys to look at it. There are 12 turns, and it looks like there will be absolutely no passing zones. Topping all that off, Road America, a race track that had long been wanting a Cup Series race, finally got it in 2021 on a major weekend, got it back in 2022, and are now losing it to... this. An attempt to chase the casual fans. To chase a market that probably doesn’t, and probably will never, care for NASCAR or racing in general. Road America had over 100,000 people show up to their 2021 and 2022 events and this is how they get treated? You give them the shaft due to TV ratings not matching up to every other race? Seriously? I can think of another track that should get the axe over Road America. Sure, the Road America race wasn’t all that great, but they made a case to keep their race date. And they lose it. At least cut Road America for a track that isn’t going to make you all look like you’re chasing the casual fans who don’t give a rip and a market that doesn’t care

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f1 · 2 years

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Alonso admits he was eyeing podium finish as leaders battled around Silverstone

Fernando Alonso reckons his run to fifth place in the British Grand Prix was Alpine’s best race of the year – but says he was even eyeing a podium as the cars in front of him engaged in some dramatic wheel-to-wheel racing in the final laps. The veteran Spaniard qualified seventh and had a great start to get up to P5 on the opening lap, before the red flag came out for Zhou Guanyu’s crash, putting him back to P7 for the restart. ALL THE ANGLES: Watch the dramatic multi-car crash at the start of the British Grand Prix But thereafter he had a textbook Alonso race, climbing to fifth when he was able to pit under the Safety Car and jump Lando Norris ahead of him. But with Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton and Sergio Perez fighting it out with some hard racing just ahead of him on the track in the closing laps, Alonso was ready to pounce if any of them made an error. “It was close. When I saw them fighting that hard and nearly touching each other I said 'okay, if they touch with two cars it’s enough to be on the podium'," he said after the race. "But in the end I’m very happy with fifth. It was a very good race pace-wise from us from the beginning. 2022 British Grand Prix: Hamilton, Pérez and Leclerc go wheel-to-wheel in 'unbelievable' three-way battle “Even the first start was mega – P5 – but unfortunately because of the rules I positioned myself P7 again, so I had to do it again. It was probably the best race for us in the championship.” Alonso’s result also helped Alpine cut the gap to McLaren to six points in the fight for P4 in the constructors’ championship – though the two-time champion was aggrieved that Leclerc was not punished for weaving, as Alonso was two weeks ago in Canada. READ MORE: 6 Winners and 5 Losers from the British Grand Prix – Who shone at Silverstone? “This circuit – we knew that for McLaren, it would be one of the best with the high-speed corners, and we were matching them for pace so definitely our package is working well and this P5 feels good, even though I have to say I expected P4 because Charles was moving three or four times in front of Hamilton on the back straight. I moved once in Canada and I had five seconds’ penalty, so I think by moving three times it would be 15 seconds’ penalty for Charles, unfortunately!” Team mate Esteban Ocon, meanwhile, largely had a weekend to forget. After qualifying 15th, he was then caught up in the first-lap crash, and though the team repaired his car in time for the restart, he was eventually forced to retire with a fuel pump problem. Ocon managed to limp back to the pits after being hit by Alex Albon on the first start “The first thing to come out of today, the best news, is that Zhou is fine. We’re very happy to hear that he’s okay because it was a very scary crash," the Frenchman said. “I had a good launch, went around Yuki [Tsunoda] at the start, but everything in the front that happened, I tried to avoid it and managed to avoid it, not hit anything. But Alex [Albon] came spinning and hit my wheel. I managed to bring back the car – just – at the back of the grid and the guys repaired it, and did a fantastic job. MONDAY MORNING DEBRIEF: Binotto says there was ‘no way’ for Leclerc to win the British GP after the Safety Car – but is he right? “We had a flying launch on the start after that – again, like five places or something like that, which was great and a good race from there on. We were going to finish sixth or seventh, it was going to be a good one, but unfortunately, the fuel pump issue. "So a tough day: yesterday, quali problems with the battery power and today the fuel pump. So we need to review and come back stronger.” via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

#F1 #Alonso admits he was eyeing podium finish as leaders battled around Silverstone #Formula 1

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

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Not Enough

has anyone else just wanted Danny to go completely fucking feral at Dash? anyone?

yeah me too

this is some truly self-indulgent shit y'all

"Hey Fenton!"

Danny slammed his locker shut, sighing as Dash clapped him roughly on the shoulder.

"I'm throwin' a huge ass Halloween party this weekend, ghosts are all about Halloween right? You should totally come!"

It wasn't the first party Danny had been invited to since being outed as Phantom, but somehow Dash didn't seem to get the hint that he wasn't even remotely interested.

"No." Danny snapped, he threw his bag over his shoulder and turned his back on Dash, walking away without another word.

"What's your problem?"

Danny stopped, turning back around with a face of utter disdain.

"Excuse me?"

"I've been trying to be nice, but all you do is just brush me off! Like you can't even pretend to be busy or something?"

Danny stared, mouth halfway open as he tried to find the words to respond.

"Are you actually serious?" he finally choked out, almost too bewildered to be angry.

Almost.

"You're not still mad about all that stuff from before right?" Dash asked. "Like, I don't even do that shit anymore, it's over."

"Is it?" Danny's eyes flashed brightly and Dash took a half step back as the air went cold. "Because I'm pretty sure it was just yesterday that I pulled Mikey out of his locker."

"Well, yeah but that was Mikey." Dash laughed. "C'mon man, I wouldn't do that to you. We're totally cool now, so why you gotta keep blowing me off? You talk to Kwan like it's not big deal, and he used to wail on you all the time!"

Danny took a deep, slow breath, then another.

"Have you considered that maybe it's because I don't like you?" Danny said through gritted teeth.

Dash huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring at the ground.

"Look, I get it, I was a jerk, but it's over! I'm actually trying to be nice, now you're the one being an asshole."

Danny looked as though he'd been slapped.

"You're such a fucking idiot Dash." Said Danny, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "You can't just treat someone like shit every single day for two years and then expect them to get over it because you invited them to a few parties."

"Then how come Kwan gets to hang out with you?" Dash could feel his face heating up. "You're just gonna let him off the hook? That's not fair!"

"HE APOLOGISED!"

In one thunderous moment, every locker in the hallway slammed open, sending papers and books flying across the floor. The few students still packing up their things got the fuck out of dodge, whether this was a ghost thing or a Fenton thing (was there even a difference at this point?) they wanted no part of it.

Dash couldn't move, his feet felt heavy, he wasn't entirely sure if Danny had done something to him with his ghost powers, or if he was just afraid.

Because he was certainly afraid.

Even after everyone found out, Danny still didn't use his powers at school unless it was a ghost emergency. He didn't use them for pranks, didn't use them to get even, didn't even use them to show off.

But he was sure as hell using them now, and Dash suddenly realised why he was always holding himself back.

He was terrifying.

Danny took a few steps forward, stopping barely an arm's length away from where Dash was rooted to the spot, trembling.

"Kwan apologised to me." He said, quietly this time. "He apologised to my friends, he even apologised to some other kids, and when I told him that I wasn't ready to forgive him, he accepted that and left me alone until I was ready to talk to him again."

Dash wanted to speak, but he couldn't seem to make his brain form the words he needed, it was too busy buzzing with danger run danger get out run run RUN.

"You made every single day of my life miserable for two whole fucking years, and that isn't even counting the bullshit you pulled in middle school. How do you feel right now Dash? Does it scare you to be around me? Does it scare you to be at the mercy of someone that you know damn well can hurt you?" Danny leant in, grabbing a fistful of letterman jacket. "I hope it does, because now maybe you'll have an idea what it was like for me going to school every fucking day knowing that you would be there, ready and waiting to hurt me. Every single FUCKING day."

Dash found himself being thrown backwards, his feet finally able to move again as he caught himself.

"I'm s-sor-sorry." he mumbled, his lips felt numb and tingly and his head swam with panic as he struggled to get the words out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Are you?" Danny's voice cracked, his face wasn't twisted in rage anymore, his eyes were blue once again, and shining with tears. "Are you really sorry for hurting me? Or are you just sorry that the guy you were beating the shit out of turned out to be Phantom?"

"I didn't... I didn't know." Dash gasped out, he could barely hear his own words, all he could hear was his own heart beating loudly in his ears as he struggled to draw in breath. "I didn't know it was like that, I just thought-"

Thought what? What had he thought? That he wasn't really hurting anyone? That it wasn't that big a deal?

No, he hadn't thought that, because he hadn't thought at all.

"And you're gonna stand here and tell me I'm an asshole." Danny was almost sobbing as he raggedly spat out each word. "Because I won't forgive you for something you never even apologised for. This is the first time you even acknowledged that you were an absolute jerk to me, and you followed it up by demanding that I just get over it."

Dash stared down at the floor, it sounded terrible when Danny put it like that.

"I wasn't... demanding anything." he said, he was embarrassed by how whiny he sounded. "I was just trying to make it up to you, I was trying, I just thought... it's not fair that I can't have second chance. I was trying so hard and all I wanted was a second chance-"

"I DON'T CARE." Danny's eyes were screwed up tight, but it didn't stop the tears of fury from pouring down his cheeks, his voice so shredded with pain it was barely recognisable. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU. I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT. I DON'T OWE YOU A SECOND CHANCE. I DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING. YOU FUCKED ME UP AND YOU. CAN'T. FIX IT."

Dash didn't know what to do. Danny was openly sobbing, his breaths came out in grunts as he couldn't hold the rage and misery back.

He was still standing within arm's reach, Dash cautiously put out a hand, to comfort him? He wasn't sure, but he barely brushed Danny's shoulder before Dash found himself spinning violently and his cheekbone exploded with sudden pain as he hit the floor. Cold hands drew away from him roughly.

"DON'T TOUCH ME." Danny screamed. "DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN."

Dash watched as Danny grabbed his backpack and his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

It was over, just like that it was over.

Dash sat up and touched his face, he wasn't bleeding but he knew it would bruise pretty bad. It hurt, he would be squinting through one eye for a few days.

Danny could have done this to him at any time, he could have done it to him every day if he wanted, and maybe he would, now that he'd done it once.

The thought made Dash feel cold as dread pooled in his stomach.

The next day Dash told people he'd gotten his black eye from playing football, his team knew it wasn't true, but they didn't ask. He kept his eye out for Danny, wondering if he would pop up invisibly and knock him off his feet, or drag him through the floor, or hit him when nobody was looking.

He clung to Kwan's side all day, afraid to be alone.

Phantom could be anywhere, he could get him anywhere, if he wanted to hurt Dash nobody would be able to stop him.

Nobody had been able to stop Dash, and he didn't even have superpowers.

But in the end, nothing happened.

Dash went through the day untouched. Danny didn't even look his way. Not once. He just acted like yesterday never happened.

But it did happen, Dash still had the bruise on his cheek, and the terror set deep in his bones.

In the following days, weeks, months, Danny still never touched him, never looked at him, never talked to him. Dash realised that Danny probably wasn't going to do anything else after all, that maybe he hadn't even meant to hurt him in the first place.

He was a hero after all, he protected people, even people he didn't like. The only time he had ever come into contact with Dash again was to haul him out of the way of a ghost, and he did so with the same care as he would with anyone else.

Danny wasn't like him, he didn't gloat about hurting him, he didn't revel in the fact that Dash was scared of him. He just went about his day, acting for all the world like Dash didn't even exist.

Dash never gave him a true apology, it was clear Danny didn't want one, it was far too late for that.

It left Dash with a sick feeling of unfulfillment. He understood now what Danny had been going through, the pain, the terror, he wanted Danny to know that he was truly sorry, that he really had changed this time.

But he couldn't, because forcing an unwanted apology on him would just make Dash the asshole all over again, he was trying to steal a forgiveness that he could never have.

So he had to find his closure somewhere else.

He stopped picking on Mikey, and Nathan, and all of the other nerds he frequently hassled. He even tried apologising to them, some forgave him, others didn't, and he had to be okay with that. He struggled not to lash out, it still felt unfair, the world had always told him that you were supposed to forgive people when they apologised. It always happened that way on tv, in the cartoons he grew up watching. The mean kid would apologise, the other kids would forgive him, and they would all become friends.

He was realising that the real world was a whole lot more complicated than that, he didn't earn forgiveness just because apologising was hard, he was learning fast that he didn't earn any brownie points for taking responsibility for his actions. He was just doing what any decent person should.

It took him a while to come to terms with that, to stop being angry at people for not letting him make it up to them. For not letting him prove that he had changed.

All it took was to occasionally pass by Danny in the hallways for him to cool his jets and think more clearly. To remind him that he was the bad guy, he was the one who hurt people, that his victims did not owe him anything.

In his last year of school, he had found himself watching the juniors below him falling into the same behaviours, the same struggle for power and control. Pushing other kids around without so much as sparing a thought to how it made them feel.

After a lengthy chat with Mr Lancer, Dash was given permission to pull out younger students from detention one day a week. He would talk to them, ask about their lives, ask about their feelings. He would ask why they lashed out, why they thought it was okay to treat people that way. Most of them didn't have an answer, or simply refused to give one, but he would push, he wouldn't let them hide in ignorance like he did.

Some of them did feel guilt for the way they treated people, and they only needed someone they could talk to who could understand what they were going through, so they wouldn't take it out on whoever was around at the time.

Others would take more effort, they need a far stronger push in the right direction, they were defensive and combative, selfish and unapologetic.

Dash had been one of those kids, he knew they would be hard work, but he did his best. He couldn't help all of them, some were simply unwilling to change.

So he contacted the school-board, he pushed for better protection for students, more programs to help troubled kids, he volunteered to keep running his own counselling groups even after he graduated.

It still never felt like enough.

After graduation he turned down his favoured college to attend one closer to home so he could continue his volunteer work. He joined petitions and rallies for change across entire school districts, he spoke at other schools' anti-bullying campaigns. He'd attended enough of them in his own childhood that he knew they did next to nothing, but it gave him the opportunity to reach out to kids for one on one support.

He found more volunteers for his counselling groups, he helped people start them up in other local schools. It was a lot of work, especially when he was also juggling his college studies. He was taking a major in psychology, it was brutal, Dash had never been good at studying, but he'd decided that this was what he needed to do, this was important to him.

It still wasn't enough.

It would come at him in the night, as soon as he laid his head down on his pillow. He would see the faces of all the kids he hurt, it felt so much worse the older he got, they just looked younger and younger every time the memories came back to plague him.

He had beat the shit out of children. Kids who were the same age as the students he now counselled. He beat them until they were bloody or bruised, he shoved them into lockers, pulled pranks that humiliated them in front of the whole school, and he had laughed.

He'd laughed at their pain.

When the guilt weighed him down, he would begin searching for new programs to volunteer for, new petitions or rallies to get behind, always finding another way to help protect kids like Danny from kids like him.

And to protect kids like him from doing things that would one day haunt them.

He had spread himself thin across every school in the district, barely keeping afloat at college, but it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

Kids still slipped through the cracks, schools were still too lenient, there were too many kids, not enough volunteers.

Casper High was holding another anti-bullying assembly. It had been a few years since Dash had attended one at his old school. This year they had excitedly announced that they'd even secured an appearance from Phantom himself.

Dash's blood ran cold, his hands shook as he went over his notes, he was slated to do his speech alongside Phantom's, they would be sharing the stage for a solid 75 minutes, barely a few feet from one another.

When Danny showed up he was already in Phantom form, Dash spotted him discussing emergency exit plans with one of the organisers in the event of a ghost attack.

He was so different from when they were in school.

He was tall, and broad, he stood with confidence and had a good natured charm to him. He was a hero, he was strong, he was brave. He could fight monsters ten times his size with a smirk and a witty one liner. He could take on anything, he wasn't afraid of anything.

He was a kid, running down a hallway, screaming words that still pierced through Dash's mind every time he saw the hero's face.

"DON'T TOUCH ME."

Dash's hands clenched around his notes, shaking so violently that they barely even looked like words.

"DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN."

"Dash?"

A deep voice cut through the chaos in Dash's mind as cold hands closed over his tremblings ones.

"It's good to see you again."

Phantom was smiling at him, his hands still closed around Dash's.

"Good... good to see you too." Dash mumbled, not able to meet the man's eyes.

Phantom paused before releasing Dash's hands.

"I've heard all about your work." Phantom grinned as Dash finally looked up and met his eyes.

"Yeah." he said, and then before his mind could catch up with his mouth, he blurted out, "I'm sorry, for everything."

Phantom's eyebrows rose for a moment, before he gave a gentle smile and clapped a hand on Dash's shoulder.

"I know." he said warmly. "Thank you."

They gave their speeches, Dash had told his story many times before, the victim that he'd pushed to breaking point, the boy whose words drove the change that made him the man he had become.

For the first time ever, that boy was listening.

After the assembly had packed up and the volunteers were heading home, it was Danny Fenton who approached Dash and asked if he wanted to go grab a beer together.

Dash thought it would be rather awkward, but Danny had plenty of experience socialising with the public, awkwardness slid right off him, and soon enough Dash found himself laughing alongside Danny as he told a story about the new misadventures of the Box Ghost.

He returned to his dorm that night, head still swimming from one too many beers, and he had the best sleep of his life.

He pulled back on some of his volunteer work, hunting for new people to take his place as he focused on college. He was falling far behind, but he would work hard to make his way back. As a volunteer he could only do so much, but with the right education and training, he could do so much more.

The guilt still haunted him, every so often when the pressure and the stress weighed heavy, it would creep back into his mind. It would probably never go away, not entirely, but at least now he had his closure.

Finally, it was enough.

#lula's fanfics #I'm still in a creativity funk so this isn't like #my best work #but I needed to get it out of my system #danny phantom #dash baxter #danny phantom fanfiction #tw bullying

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elysiadjarin · 3 years

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Day 3: Dacryphilia

Jesse Cromeans may be a ruthless killer, but at home with you? You’re the one in charge. And especially those days when you’re annoyed at how long he’s been gone and he comes back so desperate for your attention… well. You did so like to see him cry.

Day 3 of Kinktober has arrived! I actually think I discovered some things about myself writing this one, so y’all enjoy. 😂 Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ content only. This one is a slasher x reader fic, so please beware of mentions of murder and assault as part of the territory, though nothing is explicitly mentioned. PinV unprotected sex, dacryphilia, desperation, cumplay.

Tags: Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) x reader, slasher x reader, yandere!reader, soft femdom, sub/dom themes

Paint Splatters over Canvas

It was rather funny, really.

You scrolled through your phone, ignoring the giant man standing in the doorway of the room staring at you. Jesse had always made a point of never touching you without your permission. A way for him to separate the meaningless victims of his murderous hobby with you, his wife, his everything. And while of course your relationship stayed perfectly strong, you well aware of his hobby and he well aware of your own tendencies… it did sometimes backfire on him in the best worst ways.

Like now. When you were annoyed with him because he’d been gone an entire day later than he’d promised, extra dark web cash be damned. A promise was a promise, and it wasn’t as though he’d needed the money. He did have a perfectly legal and highly successful business, after all. So shouldn’t you have come first?

You liked revenge cold, playing the long game; something you had in common with Jesse. And today, you certainly had plans put in place for said revenge. Which, for the time being, meant ignoring Jesse. You had plenty to occupy you, from communications for the business to just working on your own projects. Still, you’d made sure to be just nonchalant enough to let him know that it was all so… deliberate.

Jesse shuffled in the doorway, clearly wanting your attention but knowing better than to think any sort of demanding would get him anywhere. He’d learned the hard way that at home, his power over subordinates decidedly did not apply to you. When you didn’t give him any response, he hovered for a moment, clearly trying to decide on what to do next.

You knew how he would get after a mission. Needy. Wanting. Starved for attention and affection from you. Pent up for days, probably thinking about you every spare moment between takes.

With a hum, you typed out a message on your phone before standing and heading for the doorway. You briefly looked up to see him as you brushed past in the doorway. “Oh, hi, Jesse,” you said, giving him a brief, distracted smile. “I’m off to get ready for a meeting with a client.” You headed for the bedroom, already thinking about your next steps.

You could hear him following behind you, could almost feel the mounting despair as he started to realized what was happening. Why you had used his name instead of the usual love, darling. His shoulders hunched, and you could see his face twist as he clearly tried to think of what to do. He already knew that you’d have your revenge however you wanted: apologies would be expected but certainly wouldn’t get him any closer to mercy.

Walking into the bedroom, you headed straight for the bathroom to start preparing. Jesse still trailed along behind you like a forlorn, helpless puppy, and you swore you could almost hear him let out a small whine. Pausing for a moment in front of your vanity, you dialed your friend’s number and set it to speaker, putting it down on the countertop and sitting in front of the mirror.

You tied your hair up and reached for your cosmetics, beginning the process as the phone dialed. Your friend picked up quickly, already in on your plan thanks to your texting. She always approved of your payback plans.

Bestie! I thought you said you had to prepare for the meeting? I mean, yknow, not that I don’t like hearing from you. She cheerfully teased over the phone.

You smiled. “Well yeah, I just sat down to do my makeup. But I mean, we did say we were going to talk about the party for little Jacen this weekend, and what better time than now? You can help me pick out an outfit once I’m done,” you cajoled, noticing how Jesse sat on the edge of the jacuzzi bathtub, unabashedly staring at you. He always had loved watching you get ready for an event. Not that you minded.

Fair enough. Your best friend admitted readily. But seriously, you didn’t have to go all out for Jacen like this. She half scolded. It’s so much!

You laughed lightly, the creamy foundation smoothing across your skin. “Oh c’mon, he’s my adorable little nephew in all but name. He deserves to get spoiled by his doting Aunt, let me have my fun,” you wheedled, knowing she would cave.

She sighed over the receiver. I swear, girl, you could convince anyone into anything.

“Or maybe I’m just your weakness, Miss Mara,” you teased back. The soft brush in your fingers blended the contour onto your face, and you smiled as you glanced at the phone. “But anyway, did you manage to figure out what he might want for a birthday present? Or are we going with my original idea to let him loose in a mall?”

Oh, no, you are so not buying him everything he points at. I’d never get him to not be a spoiled brat if I let you.Mara snorted. I’ll text you what I figured out, he seems to be pretty fixated on it right now.

“Ugh, fineeee,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “But I’m going to at least get him that adorable motorized scooter I showed you before. He’s going to look so cute riding around in it.”

Fair enough I suppose. Better than the mall idea— wait, did you just get me to agree to something extravagant by threatening something so ridiculous—

“Anyway,” you interrupted blithely, “did you send out invitations to everyone?”

Yep, and I got back all the RSVPs. Speaking of which, I thought you said that you were meeting with the CEO of some business tonight? What’s that all about? I know you, you normally don’t like dealing with people.

You sighed. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag a little.” You pouted, reaching for the eyeshadow and liner. “Jesse was supposed to be back yesterday, but since he wasn’t I had to reschedule, and I promised to personally meet with the CEO in order to smooth over ruffled feathers. But besides that… I wanted to be there personally to see my best friend and her husband’s house finally paid off for their fifth anniversary.”

A pause. Then a screech that made you grin. You’re not serious! Babes, no, wait—

“No use protesting!” You said cheerfully, waving your brush. “It’s already been practically settled. Besides, you both need to start saving up for Jacen’s college funds. We did have the agreement that I’d open the doors to whatever college he wanted instead of just paying for it,” you reminded.

Ugh, I don’t know if I want to smack you or hug you, you sly little— Mara groaned. Wait till I tell Damien, he won’t know what hit him. She laughed. Thank you. You know how much it means to us. I won’t scold.

“Good.” You nodded. “And you know I’ll take care of you.”

She sighed. Never doubted it. So, how’s the process?

You hummed, pursing your lips as you finished the eyeshadow and grabbed the mascara. “About to do mascara, then all I have left is the lipstick. But shouldn’t I wait till we pick a dress before I actually pick a color?”

Probably. What’s the mood? You going for boss ass bitch, sultry Queen, or mysterious vampire lady? Amusement laced Mara’s voice.

“You’re not even in my house and yet you walked in and called me out to my face,” you said dryly, earning laughter. Jesse, you saw in the mirror, tilted his head with a small smile playing over his lips. He’d quietly observed the whole processes, eyes fixed on your face.

Only cause I love you. So, show me the closet, girl! Oh, show me your makeup first tho so we got reference.

You picked up the phone as you finished, turning on the camera so she could see your makeup sans the lipstick. She whistled, eyebrows wriggling teasingly as she grinned.

Oh, so mysterious vampire queen it is. She smirked. Closet. Though I do have the feeling that we’re going to be choosing a gorgeous red lipstick.

“Yes ma’am,” you answered, standing and heading for your closet. You heard Jesse stand and follow behind you, and stifled a smile. Flipping the camera, you started to flip through the racks of dresses. “Does that mean we’re leaning towards a black dress?”

Hmm, probably. Actually, how about one of your sleek black ones? The one with like, barely any frills and only a tiny bit of lace at the top. Off the shoulder. If you’re gonna try to assert dominance, probably drawing attention to your mouth and hands is the best way to go.

You tilted your head at the hangers, then nodded. “You’re right. Especially if I go for the red lipstick. I could also honestly use a glass of wine during that meeting,” you sighed.

Mara snickered. Blood in a wine glass? How stereotypical of you, madame.

“You hush, drama queen,” you said dryly, finding the dress she’d described and pulling it out.

Ooh, that’s the one! And I know you have that one crimson shade of lipstick that I always say looks vampiric.

You went back to the vanity and set the phone down, pretending to not notice that it showed Jesse standing in the doorway, clearly staring at you. You slid your shirt off, careful not to smudge any makeup, then slipped out of your pants and reached for the dress. Smoothing it over your front to get rid of any wrinkles, you sat back down and tilted the camera back to yourself, reaching for the lipstick.

“This one, right?” You waved it in front of your face.

Yep! That dress is stunning, by the way. Oh, and what are you doing with your hair?

“Ugh, I don’t really wanna bother too much with it, so I figured I’d go with the… messy, loose waves.” You shrugged, applying the lipstick.

Mara snorted. I think you mean, ‘sorry I’m late I was doing things’ while ignoring Jesse staggering behind you clearly radiating ‘I’m things’ energy.

You half-choked, laughing despite yourself. “Mara-! Seriously!”

She rolled her eyes at you. I’m just saying it like it is. But you go girlie, you look bomb. She laughed. Blow them all away. Be the boss bitch you are. A noise in the background interrupted her. Oop, that’s my cue. I gotta go, text me though okay?

“Will do, tell Damien and Jacen hi for me.” You smiled and hung up, finishing fluffing your hair. Standing, you grabbed the phone and headed for the door. “The meeting is in five minutes,” you remarked to Jesse as you passed him in the doorway. “If you want to join.”

You saw him type on his phone, the text to speech translator sounding a moment later. May I be there with you?

You flashed him a warm smile, as though you weren’t at all deliberately enacting revenge. “Of course! I’d love to have you there. Let’s go.” With a little hum, you headed towards the stairs.

Your phone pinged with a message. Girl, I swear he was drooling. You’re so mean sometimes. Not that he didn’t deserve it.

You suppressed a laugh, replying with one hand as your other slid down the bannister to guide you down the staircase. You know it. Mission so far successful. Wish me luck, I’m about to go into this meeting.

You looked up as you got to the bottom of the stairs, seeing an assistant waiting with the guest. The assistant bowed politely. “May I introduce Mr. Trace, CEO of Finley Bank.”

Giving the assistant a nod, you turned to Mr. Trace. “Greetings, Mr. Trace. Welcome! Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I do apologize for the delay,” you said, taking charge and sweeping towards the parlor.

He followed after automatically. “Of course, Mrs. Cromeans,” he answered, quickly recovering from his moment of bewilderment.

You motioned to a chair, sitting on the velvet couch across the coffee table. “Please, please, have a seat,” you said, keeping the easy smile on your face. “Can I get you a drink? Anything at all?”

He blinked, sitting down and setting his briefcase next to him. “Ah— thank you. I’d appreciate a scotch on the rocks if it’s available.”

“Of course,” you said easily, nodding to the maid standing nearby. “A red wine for me, please.” You smiled at Jesse as he sat next to you. “Your regular?” you asked sweetly. At his nod, you turned back to the maid. “And a glass of dry white.”

She bowed and went to go fetch the drinks.

“I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do, Mr. Trace,” you said smoothly, “so I’ll not take any more of your time than necessary. Of course, as I said, I’d like to discuss several things with you…”

Twenty minutes later found you leaning against the arm of the couch, feet propped up beside you as you swirled the last dregs of the red wine, tapping the glass with your fingernails. The CEO had long since emptied his scotch, and Jesse was on his second glass. His fingers kept clenching around the flute of his glass every time your feet brushed against his thigh.

“Of course,” Trace said with a nod, jotting down the final notes on the paperwork. “Easily managed. Are there any other details you would like to add or anything else to discuss?” He looked up at you.

Your tactics of firm politeness and the scotch seemed to have worked their charm, and you’d been able to rather easily dominate the flow of the interaction. Not to mention, Mara had been right about appearances clearly setting a tone. Trace seemed to be studiously avoiding eye contact with either you or Jesse.

“Not at all, Mr. Trace,” you said, a pleased note in your voice. “I’m rather pleased at how everything has turned out. We do so value your business, you know.” You tilted the glass in your fingers. “Shall I sign the papers?”

“At your leisure.” He slid them across the table toward you.

You slowly uncurled yourself like a lazy feline, straightening yourself and leaning over to set the glass down on the table. Grasping the pen, you slowly signed your name on the papers, eyes glancing over the print to ascertain that everything was in order. Shuffling through the papers, you finally set the pen down.

Trace took them back, glancing through them before nodding. “Everything seems to be in order.” He slid them back into his briefcase. “Thank you as always for your business, Mrs. Cromeans, Mr. Cromeans.”

You nodded, and Jesse stood, setting his glass down. You rose as well, sliding your arm into the crook of his elbow as he automatically adjusted for you. “And thank you for your help, Mr. Trace,” you answered easily. “I do hope you have a productive rest of the day. Do be safe out there.”

He nodded as the assistant returned to escort him out. “Same to you.”

With a hum, you absently patted Jesse’s arm and let yours slide out of his grasp, drifting towards the stairs again. “Oh, I need to go tell Mara it’s all confirmed. Besides, this dress is only comfortable for so long,” you remarked, pulling out your phone again.

Guess who completely owns their house now? You texted Mara, smiling. And your tactics worked, I think dominance was asserted.

You waltzed into the bedroom, headed straight for the closet. “Jesse, are you hungry? I think the food I ordered should have arrived by now, it should be in front of the TV. Maybe pick a movie? I still have a few messages to send.”

You changed into a comfortable black babydoll nightdress, sighing in relief as the silk slid over your skin. It was far more comfortable, and you could feel yourself finally starting to relax after the pent-up tension of the meeting. You really did hate dealing with people, especially ones like the CEO.

Your phone buzzed as you went to go pick it back up. You are literally the best. Now go finish seducing Jesse while I go figure out how to make this news sexy.

Stifling a snort, you went to go wipe your makeup off and wash your face. You could hear the sounds of the TV starting in the bedroom, so you took one more glance in the mirror before heading out into the room, still tapping at your phone. You still had to finish some arrangements for Jacen’s birthday, after all, and your revenge was still percolating.

Jesse’s head turned as soon as you approached the couch in front of the TV. You ignored the way he froze, sliding onto the couch and tucking your feet under a soft blanket. Sending off another message, you set it beside you and reached forward to grab a tray, pulling it into your lap.

“I figured you might not want anything too heavy since you just got back, so I kinda just made a guess and ended up ordering too much…” You frowned at the myriad of food laid out over the table. “Sorry, Jesse… I don’t even know if this is what you want—“

The text to speech cut you off. The food is fine, thank you. I’m sorry for being late. I know I can only make excuses, but I am sorry. Can I make it up to you?

A frown touched your lips as you picked up your spoon, still not looking at him. Your fingernails tapped against the screen of your phone. “Jacen asked the other day if Uncle Jesse would be at his party. I told him I didn’t know, but I’d ask.”

He quickly typed. Of course, if he asked for me, I’ll be sure to be there. His fingers paused, then he slowly typed again, as though hesitating. I got you a present while I was gone.

You hummed, swallowing your food and picking your phone back up. “He’ll be happy to hear it. And thank you for the present.” You sent a message to tell Mara that Jacen’s wish had been granted.

Jesse practically fidgeted as he ate, the movie playing in the background. You could feel his eyes slide from the screen to you, could almost hear the wheels in his head frantically turning. The tension in every line of his body was obvious, his movements stilted and jerky. He practically twitched every time you so much as moved.

Finally, you set down the tray, grabbing a mint to refresh your mouth. Shifting to get more comfortable, you angled yourself towards him a little more. You snitched a piece of food from his plate, letting out a hum as you smiled down at Mara’s message. If possible, Jesse stiffened even more, his fingers clenching so hard around his spoon that it even bent a little in his grasp.

A crumb fell from your fingers onto the lace edge of your nightgown, and you let out a quiet noise of protest as you looked down. Your fingers brushed against the top of your breast, brushing off the crumb. Sticking your finger in your mouth, you typed out a message in response to another conversation. With a sigh, you looked up and glanced over Jesse’s shoulder to see the lamp on the table next to him. Night had fallen, and shadows fell over the room.

Stirring yourself, you sat up, setting your phone down for a moment. “Can I turn on the lamp? I don’t wanna get up for the lights,” you said, starting to lean across him. Almost thoughtlessly, you placed your hand on his thigh and put your weight on it, reaching over his body on your hands and knees to pull at the cord on the lamp. The light clicked on, just as a low keening sound came from Jesse.

Your head tilted at the sound, and you turned to look up at his face. It was your turn to freeze.

Jesse’s face had crumpled, his soft green eyes literally awash with tears. His hands were clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with hitching breaths as he struggled to control his expression. The tears welled in his eyes, and faint color had splashed across his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

Slowly, a smile crossed your lips as you stared up at his face. Leaning back, you tilted your head, licking your lips. “Oh, look at you,” you breathed. “You made all the little piggies cry, Jesse. But maybe it’s your turn, hmm?” Your eyes flickered down to the way his entire body trembled, every muscle taut and strained.

You moved, sliding your entire body into his lap to straddle his waist and face him. Crossing your arms under your chest, you stared into his face. “I don’t know… you broke your promise, though.” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he let out another hoarse whimper. Tears slid down his cheeks, his mouth opening for shuddering breaths.

He shook his head, lips trembling as he lifted one hand and signed. Sorry. Please. Sorry. His fingers spelled out your name.

Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hands. You leaned up, face drawing closer to his. “But I already accepted your apology, love,” you cooed, smiling. “You know what I think?” You slowly dragged your tongue across his tear tracks, your body flushing with heat at the taste of the bitter salt. “I think,” you murmured against his jaw, “that I like seeing you cry.”

Jesse’s breath hitched on a sob, more tears spilling down his cheeks. It was fairly intoxicating, seeing the giant man completely fall apart under you, trapped between his desperation and his personal standards. When you slid forward, your body pressing flush against him, another sob wrenched from his gritted teeth.

You decided for the moment to have a bit of mercy. Reaching down, you grasped his wrists and lifted his hands to your waist. His fingers instantly clenched in the silk babydoll dress, shaking as he grabbed at your waist. His entire body lurched forwards towards you, eyes fixed on your face.

You hummed softly, brushing a kiss to his jaw. “Your eyes are so pretty when they’re filled with tears, Jesse,” you purred, drawing his face closer to you. Still, you refused to kiss him, instead trailing your lips down his jaw, down to his throat. You opened your mouth against his neck, savoring the taste of his skin and the soft scent of his cologne.

Jesse’s trembling fingers jerked against your waist, and he slumped into you. His hands slid over your waist to your lower back, his touch practically reverent as he squeezed. His breaths came quick and fast, breaking occasionally on a sob. Every time you suckled or moved your lips, every time your hands slid down his shoulders, he gasped and shuddered, more tears dripping down his cheeks.

You slid your hands down, starting to unbutton his shirt. Your tongue dragged across his neck, and you felt the bulge in his pants throb against your thigh. “Isn’t this punishment fair, darling?” you cooed. “I only ask for a few tears, hmm? A front row seat to your pretty eyes?”

His head jerked, even though it wrenched another tortured sob from him. Despite the contact, you could feel his frustration mounting.

You pulled back, looking up at him as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. “Oh, you don’t think so?” Your fingers slid across his bared chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. “But isn’t this what you wanted? Me, paying attention to you?”

His gasps had turned ragged. His hips jerked, rutting up against your thigh. A strangled noise left his throat, his eyes squeezing shut. His grip on your waist threatened to leave fingerprints against your skin.

“No?” You bit your lip, raking your nails lightly against his chest. “Then what is it you want, hmm?”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, unconsciously licking his own. His fingers clenching, he pulled you down to grind against his cock, straining in his trousers. Pants fell from his mouth, and he kept glancing from your eyes to your lips.

You reached down, teasingly trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Unzipping his trousers, you looked up at his face and smiled as you traced one fingertip down the bulge in his underwear. His eyes fairly rolled back in his head, more tears streaming down his face afresh.

“Look at you, already such a mess,” you murmured, sliding your fingers into his underwear. The moment you wrapped a hand around his cock and slid up, you were rewarded with a guttural groan. He gritted his teeth, clearly struggling to stay still. With a soft laugh, you leaned up and brushed a kiss to his ear.

You tugged at his collar. “Why don’t you lie down for me?” you murmured.

He immediately complied, his hands still clamped around your waist as he turned and shifted up, lying down on the couch. He stared up at you, face still twisted in agony and desperation.

Lifting yourself a little, you tilted your head at him. “Take your pants off for me?”

He practically kicked his pants and underwear off in his haste. You guided one of his hands to the latch on the side of your own panties, giving him an amused smile and nod. His trembling fingers unlatched them, his chest heaving as he watched the black silk slide away from your skin. The moment you lowered back down onto him, his cock throbbed against you and his back arched.

Leaning forward, you hummed a pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Jesse, love,” you murmured. “Cry for me a little more?” You cupped his face in your hands, feeling your wetness coat his own length as you ground against his tip. But you deliberately kept shifting, not giving him any steady pressure.

Another broken whine came from him, and a few more tears slipped down his cheeks. Frustration scrunched his face, his neck mottled with red and flushing down to his shoulders and chest, making your white nail marks stand out. His hips jerked, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment.

“Is this what you want?” You pressed down against him again, feeling his cock slip against your wet folds teasingly.

His head jerked in a nod, almost violently. Tremors kept running through his arms, his body occasionally shuddering under you.

You leaned down and sucked his lower lip between yours. Your teeth nipped at his lip, and you finally slanted your mouth over his. Tears poured afresh down his cheeks as he desperately pulled at you, trying to get closer, kiss you more. You relented and let him, thumbs brushing against his jaw as you hummed softly into his frantic, pleading kisses. Without warning, you slipped your tongue between his lips, feeling his mouth part with alacrity. When you finally parted, his green eyes were glazed over with tears, hazily staring at you.

Then you smiled at him slyly. “I think you’ve deserved a little bit more,” you decided.

The moment you slid his tip into you, he choked. Saliva dribbled from the corners of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling for breath. His entire body froze, humming taut under you and his eyes sightlessly staring up at the ceiling.

You observed his wrecked expression, licking your lips with satisfaction. Rarely did Jesse ever fully submit to you like this, usually a brat. But tonight, you had absolute and utter control, and you intended to milk every last ounce of satisfaction out of it. The memories would fuel you for years of his utterly ruined expression, tears slipping down his cheeks as he drooled uncontrollably.

“So pretty, darling,” you purred, licking the tears from his cheek. You gave him another kiss, letting his hands wander over your waist and up your front. “So good for me. Do you think you can handle more?”

His eyes widened, breath quickening. He glanced down, then shook his head jerkily. Then nodded. Then shook his head.

You tilted your head. “Hmmm.” A wicked grin crossed your lips. “No? Oh, but I think you can,” your said, just as you lifted yourself and fully sheathed him inside you.

Jesse sobbed. His mouth opened, tongue lolling as he gasped. Tears poured down his cheeks from the mingled pleasurable pain and relief. His cock throbbed inside you, and his hands grasped desperately at your thighs. His entire body started to shake, arching.

You barely gave him time to adjust before you were already bouncing on him, hands braced against the back of the couch. Laughter spilled from your lips, delighted and cruel, as his hands scrabbled against your thighs, raking across your skin. Moans kept being torn from his throat, your name framed on his lips.

As soon as you angled your hips and brought your fingers down to ring tight circles on your clit, you hissed in pleasure. You pulsed around his cock, earning another helpless sob and wave of tears. He just hit that one spot inside you perfectly, again and again, until you bit your lip and moaned his name as you came around him. Your body clenched down on him, even as you kept fucking yourself through your orgasm.

More laughter spilled from your lips. “Are you gonna cum for me, Jesse, my pretty darling?” you asked breathlessly, purposely moaning his name. “Gonna cum inside me?”

The only warning you got from Jesse was another sob and the gritting of his teeth. His hands flew to your hips, slamming you down on him one more time before holding you there with an iron grip. Gasps tore from his mouth, his eyes trying to blink away tears as he stared up at you.

You hummed, caressing his hands and arms as you bit your lip in satisfaction. He kept pouring into you, his hips jerking once in a while and wringing a whimper from him. Finally, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His lips parted under yours weakly, chest heaving under your hands.

“Thank you, Jesse,” you cooed sweetly between kisses. “You’re so good to me, make me feel so good.” Your mind fuzzed with the pleasure of both your high and the sight of his tears.

He pushed up against you, kissing you fervently. Though he didn’t say a word, you could feel his thoughts through his drugged, sloppy kiss.

You giggled, teasingly clenching down on him one more time and earning a jerk and grunt. “And I forgive you. But don’t do it again, okay?”

Jesse’s calculating look as he clearly weighed the consequences made you roll your eyes but laugh. Maybe this one would turn out to backfire against you, next time.

You decided it was worth it.

222 notes · View notes

mochegato · 3 years

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

“We have a problem,” Tim grumbled as he stumbled into the dining room. He threw the morning newspaper down on the table, letting it slide the last few feet until it stopped millimeters short of Bruce’s coffee.

Bruce sputtered his eggs and grabbed the paper, staring at the picture of him speaking with Marinette and Adrien that took up the entire front page above the fold. He threw the paper back on the table. “Son of a b…”

“We’ve been getting calls from PR all morning,” Tim interrupted him before Alfred got upset with Bruce for his language. “Because they’ve been getting calls from every newspaper, news station, blog, and interested citizen in the world, calling to ask them about it.”

Tim poured himself a large cup of coffee, larger than usual. He’d had patrol last night and gotten woken up at the crack of dawn this morning with calls about the story. So he was running on all of three hours of sleep and just wanted to crawl back into bed, but with this story, there was no chance of him getting to bed until after tonight’s patrol had already left.

It didn’t help that he was beating himself up for not picking up on the cues she was giving that night. He’d run into her. He and Stephanie had talked to her. He saw her freeze up when she realized who he was. He knew she was acting off, he just hadn’t thought it was nefarious. If anything, it seemed hurt, not scared. He should have caught onto her body language. He should have noticed how she seemed to freeze when he mentioned the family. She must have thought he was fishing, letting her know he was onto her and her plan to do this.

“You’d think after all the false alarms they’ve reported in the past that they’d know better by now. Not every black haired, blue eyed child is a Wayne. I’ve had PR draft up a statement that while we appreciate her support for the orphans, she is not, in fact, a Wayne,” he finished, taking a bite of his muffin, missing Bruce’s grimace.

Damian grabbed the paper, wrinkling it in his clenched fists as he scanned the text. “She must have orchestrated the whole thing to put this out. How else would they know these details?”

“No,” Dick commented thoughtfully, prying the paper away from Damian to take a look at the picture. “If she was in on it she would have put on a better act. Look at the image. She isn’t playing into it. She looks scared, not excited to ‘introduce her fiancé to her family’.” Dick quoted. He briefly scanned the paper for more information.

All the evidence appeared to be the picture, her physical features, and some call logs to her parent’s business. Dick scrunched up his face with concern. While not damning, it was interesting. He didn’t know any reason Bruce would have to contact a bakery in Paris. “Not to mention the story would have gone out yesterday for a bigger circulation boost. Sundays are the big press days. They wouldn’t have waited until Monday. That suggests they researched, or rather stole the information. And no quotes from her in here.”

“Fine,” Damian growled, acquiescing to his logic. “Maybe she did it after the fact. She saw the opportunity and took it.”

“No,” Bruce admitted quietly. “She wouldn’t have had to do that.” The room seemed to become still as everyone turned to face him. “If she wanted this story to go out she could have put it out at any time. And she would have played up the dance, would have sought me out at the gala. But she didn’t.”

“What dance?” Duke asked cautiously, his focus entirely on Bruce now.

“I asked her to dance. She said no. Ran away as quickly as she could actually,” Bruce chuckled self-deprecatingly as he stared at the paper in Dick’s hands.

Damian blinked at him as though the longer he stared the clearer what was happening would become. But no matter how hard he stared, the image didn’t become clearer. If anything, things became hazier. “This could all be a clever ruse. She wants to appear innocent so when you confront her she can point out that she didn’t do those things. It says she’s an aspiring designer. This could all be for publicity.”

“She wouldn’t have to go through all that,” Bruce stated again, more finality in his voice. He finally looked up, but still didn’t make eye contact with any of them.

Dick stared at Bruce, taking in his response, letting the words and their broader meaning sink in. The words he wasn’t saying hung in the room like thick smoke, winding their way into everything they touched, stealing the air out of the room. “What are you saying Bruce?” Dick asked cautiously

“The story’s true, isn’t it,” Tim observed. It was a statement more than a question.

Bruce nodded with a sigh. “Except for the meeting her fiancé part.”

Tim knew it was true even before Bruce’s verbal acknowledgement. The pieces suddenly fit together. It was the only thing that made sense. That’s why her reactions were off. That matched. He saw her face when they told her the gala was to celebrate family. He saw her body language change sharply when Stephanie joked about Bruce taking in everyone he saw. He wasn’t sure what to make of it at the time and didn’t really even try because it didn’t seem relevant and they had more important issues to think about, namely celebrating Duke. After the story, he thought the reactions were a tell. But now… now that he knew, they were a tell, but for something else entirely.

She was trying to be polite about it, not letting on how hard it was hitting. And oh God, didn’t that make it worse. Everything they said had been cordial, joking at Bruce’s expense, at their own expense. But with the new knowledge… it was at hers. They weren’t jokes, they were digs. They were attacks. They were him putting her ‘in her place’; out of the family. Tim took in a shuttering breath and collapsed on the couch, his head in his hands.

He would have so much to apologize for. He would have to find her and make sure she knew he didn’t mean his words the way they must have come across. He knew how it felt to not be accepted. He knew how it felt to not feel loved by your parents. He knew how it felt to have your place in the family questioned constantly, to be attacked, to be unwelcome. He wouldn’t wish that on enemies, let alone family.

“Who is she, Father?” Damian demanded.

Bruce met his eyes, guilt swimming in his own. “She’s your half-sister. Her mother and step-father have been raising her in Paris,” Bruce answered calmly.

Damian fought the gasp his lungs demanded against his will. His father was confirming it. He was acknowledging her. But never trusted them with the information. “Were you ever going to tell us?” Damian finally asked with forced coolness

“I was letting the dust settle on introducing Duke before I broached it,” Bruce hedged.

“So you just found out,” Damian asked angrily. That would make sense. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, him. It was that he didn’t know until recently. Of course that was what happened.

“No.”

Damian gaped at him, his hastily built protective construct shattering with one word. “How long have you known?”

“Since she was born.” Damian gaped at him. He’d known. He’d known since before Damian came to live with them and still never told them. He didn’t trust him. Even after all he’d done, he still didn’t trust him. And now he was letting this unknown, this daughter, even just thinking the word made him wrinkle his nose in disgust, do whatever she wanted. He trusted her but not him.

“You have a daughter, a biological daughter you’ve known about for decades and that you never told us about,” Dick asked again in a daze. He fell into a chair staring at Bruce incredulously. There was no way. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He loved kids. He loved his kids. Why would he send one away? He hadn’t even wanted to do that to Jason.

“So I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know?” Duke asked. He looked around, taking in the stunned, disbelieving, hurt expressions.

“Not just you,” Damian gritted out.

Duke sucked in a breath and pulled out his phone, texting Jason and Cass to let them know what was happening. They were going to want to know as soon as possible too. All of them were going to have questions and issues with this information. And if the conversation went on much longer, they may want to be involved.

“Why was she there last night? What did she want? Surely she wouldn’t have come without a plan,” Damian pressed. Nobody had access to the kind of power and money they had and just walked away. If she was presenting herself and not to them, to the press, there must be a reason, a plot. They needed to find out more about her to figure it out. “How did she get a ticket in the first place?” That might be a place to start. It would give an insight into her accomplices and they could be pressed later for more information.

Bruce sighed and looked back down at his food, pushing the plate away, no longer hungry in the slightest. “I can’t answer how she got her ticket. As to why she was there, she was there to talk about a position for a friend of hers… with Lucius apparently, not me.”

“She was using her name to get her subpar friend a job,” Damian spat in disgust. There had to be more though. With their name, she could get much, much more. This had to be an opening gambit. The job must be placing an operative, loyal to her, within their institution. Next was the stunt with the press. They needed to figure out her next steps.

“No,” Bruce insisted. “She didn’t mention her association. He doesn’t know… well, he does now. He spoke to me after the gala, said he discovered one of our managers is stealing ideas and there was someone he was going to spend the weekend researching but he was excited about hiring him. Luthor is trying to hire him, so if we don’t act fast we’ll lose him. I’m betting that was her friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Damian growled out. “That could be a coincidence.”

“I’ll confirm with Lucius today, but it fits with what I know,” Bruce insisted calmly. “From what her mother has told me over the years, it’s the kind of thing she would do; go well out of her way to help a friend. And her mother let me know she was planning on attending the gala to talk about hiring her friend. I just thought she was going to talk to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell us,” Dick asked breathlessly. He was staring at Bruce with hurt saturating his eyes. He heard nothing after Bruce admitting he’d known about her and never told them. He was aware Bruce had been saying things for the last few minutes but none of it had registered. None of it was what he needed to know.

Bruce sighed and ran his hand over his face. “Nobody knew. Nobody but me and her mother and step-father. It was easier that way.” Easier to pretend was left unsaid. Easier for Bruce to pretend like he hadn’t cut her out of his life, like he didn’t regret it every day. Easier for Bruce to try to forget.

“Not even her?” Duke asked.

“Not even her,” Bruce confirmed with a sigh. He ran his hand over his face.

“Why?” Dick was staring at him in wide eyed confusion. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. He’d been with Bruce for twenty years and never heard a whisper of a biological daughter. But she existed. And he knew. Bruce took a deep breath and Dick scowled. “I swear to God, B, if you say some dumbass excuse like to protect her…”

“She has a happy life. Her mother and step-father love her beyond words. They support her, love her, encourage her. They’re there for her whenever she needs it. They never miss an event. Family dinners every night. She has friends… a good life. She’s safe. She never had to worry about defending herself. She never had to be taught what to do when she got kidnapped. Never had to… doesn’t remember seeing the people around her dead from the latest rogue attack. Not like what she would have here…” he again left the last part of the sentence off. The “with me” was left for everyone to fill in on their own.

“You’re a good father,” Tim assured him weakly, because at this point, with this information…

“I hope so.” Bruce gave him a weak smile. “But when she was born… I had an obligation. I had a responsibility.”

“She was your responsibility!” Dick yelled, his face suddenly contorting in anger and frustration with Bruce.

Bruce looked away stoically, face suddenly a mask devoid of emotion. “She had a better option and I made sure she got it.”

The room was silent for a few moments while his words settled in. The only sound was Dick seething in his seat. “But she doesn’t know you? You never visited. You never interacted with her. Even not telling her who you were to her,” Tim clarified.

Bruce shook his head. “I visited her final project for her degree a few weeks ago under the guise of research for the fabric project. She’s a designer. I was hoping to get her in on the fabric project. I thought it would be a good cover to get her comfortable with the family. But I didn’t talk with her while I was there.” He chuckled slightly at the memory. “I couldn’t even get close. There were too many people talking to her, congratulating her, offering her internships. Her work was beautiful.”

“But you’ve talked with her parents,” Tim checked.

He sighed and waved his hand helplessly. “I spoke with Sabine every so often to check on Marinette, make sure she was okay. I helped pay for her schooling, but even that was disguised as an investment into her parents’ company.”

“So her parents were having you pay for their company, holding the secret over your head,” Damian spat out.

“No!” Bruce growled. He knew Damian was having a hard time with this. Hell, that’s one of the main reasons he waited so long, because he knew Damian wouldn’t react well. Damian would have taken it as an attack on his position in the family. And after the way he treated Tim and Dick when he first found out about them… They could protect themselves against his attacks. She wouldn’t have been able to. He didn’t know how far Damian would actually go and he didn’t want Damian to have to find out either. He had been waiting until Damian was more settled, more secure in the family and their unconditional love for him before he reached out to her. But he wasn’t going to let him disparage Sabine and Tom. They’d been nothing but understanding.

“They only let me put in the amount for tuition. They wouldn’t allow me to give any more than that and Marinette got a scholarship for her university so she didn’t need any assistance. I tried to keep giving them money for her to at least have spending money but they refused. They stopped accepting the transfers. They only relented when I said it would look suspicious. So they’ve been creating a trust for her with it.”

Damian grumbled and looked away. Whatever their game was, they were certainly good at it.

Bruce dropped his head into his hands. “Nobody was supposed to know about her until I was sure it was safe,” Bruce grumbled into his hands. “Until I’d had a chance to talk to everyone about it.”

“Well now everyone knows, so maybe now is a good time to start trying to make that connection,” Dick growled.

“If she’ll let us,” Tim added. He remembered the look in her eyes when he talked about his… their family.

“It’s never too late to start trying to bond,” Dick insisted. His eyes were bordering on wild. They could bring this back, right? The family had come back from worse. They’d faced steeper hills. Hell, Damian tried to kill them when he first came. Jason had also tried to kill them all more than once when he came back. She couldn’t be that bad. They just had to make the first move. “We just have to let her know we want to.”

Tim shook his head and looked down, not at all convinced it really was as easy as that. Tim was awkward on a good day. He could make friends but usually they made the first move. He was pretty certain she wouldn’t make the first move in this instance. Damian wouldn’t accept her, period. Dick would crowd her. Jason would… whatever Jason did, probably disappear. She wasn’t a Robin so he probably wouldn’t try to kill her. Cass would try, but her success depended on Marinette understanding what Cass wasn’t saying. And Bruce… Bruce was never good at understanding emotions or sympathizing. Honestly, their best hope was Duke.

Duke breathed out a deep sigh and looked away. This family was not easy to get along with or find your place with. And bonding with each other? He managed because he fought next to them. They bonded in the field, in their suits. He wasn’t sure if they realized that about themselves. If they interacted outside the suits it was because of the bond they formed inside them. She wouldn’t have that opportunity and without it… The prognosis was not good.

“What are you going to do, B?” Tim asked tentatively. “Because whatever your plans were, now she knows and she’s dealing with it on her own. She… You need to talk to her.”

Bruce sucked in a breath and massaged his temples. “I know.”

“And you need to apologize,” Dick added firmly.

Bruce nodded. “I know.”

“No, you don’t,” Dick growled. “You have no idea what has to be going through her head right now.” He grabbed his bag and stalked out of the manor, slamming the door as he left.

“And you need to decide what we’re going to tell the public,” Tim added. “We need to put a statement out soon.”

“I know,” Bruce agreed. His voice this time was more detached. That was something he would have to decide, but that wasn’t the priority right now and not something he wanted to do without her input.

He needed to come up with a new plan and quickly. This was nothing like the one he had come up with. He was supposed to have more time. He was supposed to be able to ease into this. He was supposed to be able to feel things out before deciding a path. He was supposed to control the environment and how his family found out.

But now he was thrown into it, they all were, and he had no idea how to proceed. He didn’t know her well enough to anticipate how she would react to the situation or to him. He didn’t know her well enough yet to know the best way to approach her. He needed to come up with a game plan. He sighed heavily. He had to get into the office, not show anything out of the ordinary. And once he was behind his office door, he could talk to Sabine. She would know what to do.

Chapter 5

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #Even the Losers #mbdbwm2021 #prompt - bonding

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mysticpetals · 3 years

Text

Supermarket runs

Pairing: Jake × mc (Syianne)

Genre: fluff, humor

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Three times Jake ran into Syianne and one time he actually made plans.

Anonymous asked: Hello. If you do still requests, can you do 27 and 40, with Jake and MC from Duskwood from fluff? Sorry I forgot to add that.

Prompts: 27. "Are you blushing?" 40. "Why are you so afraid of loving?"

Notes: here it is! A cute meet up fic with Jake's point of view. I hope you like this one because it's going to be the last thing I'll be posting for a while 😬

Jake had reached his new hideout just a few hours ago.

After evading yet another capture from the government and planting false trails in his wake, he had escaped to a small town, renting an apartment for the time being.

Opening the door to his new house for a few days, he put his cat down, opened his cage and let him explore. Glitch immediately disappeared and Jake put his bags down, sighing tiredly.

He needed to make a quick run to the store nearby, getting some food and other essential items since it was clear that they didn't stock it in the room.

Before he could change his mind, Jake picked up his wallet, locking the door and walked to the store he came across on his way over to the apartment.

It was a medium sized store, probably the one of the few in this small town. Jake browsed the shelves picking up the things he needed along the way. He avoided eye contact with everyone, putting his hood up.

When he was done, he quietly put the few cup noodles and microwaveable dinners on the counter and waited for the cashier to scan his items. Just as he went to pick up the first item, the cashier's phone rang and he glanced at the screen, eyes widening in surprise before his face settled into panic.

"Oh shit, oh shit, I completely forgot," he mumbled to himself frantically and giving Jake an apologetic glance, ran towards the back room.

Well then, it wasn't like he was in any hurry either. He didn't want to go back so soon anyway. He rocked back on his heels, adjusting his mask so that it still covered the lower half of his face and looked around in boredom.

From the backroom, he could hear two voices arguing, one male and other female and just when he thought that maybe it was going to take a while, the cashier ran out of the room, hefting a jacket over his shoulders and looked back.

"I owe you one, Syianne! Thank you so much!"

Jake tilted his head on hearing the familiar name, memories of conversations with his Syianne creeping up.

"You really do, Percy! I better have a three day weekend after this!" The girl shouted back and Jake smiled behind his mask. She even sounded like her.

The cashier yelled back something but he was already out the door to hear properly. The girl came out from the back, wearing her uniform jacket and grumbling about having to do two shifts, but Jake had frozen.

"Sorry about that. My coworker forgot about the date with his girlfriend and had to bolt. Between you and me, she's pretty scary so I'd be running too," she said, already ringing up his few items but Jake couldn't reply. He kept staring at her familiar face, which he had accidentally accessed when going through her chats before.

This was his Syianne.

She glanced at him, probably wondering why he didn't say anything before looking back on the screen. He broke out of his stupor when she told him the total and held up a bag with his items.

His fingers brushed against her and it felt like a lifetime, blood rushing to his cheeks and heart pacing.

"Thank you," he said and got a smile in return.

"You're welcome! Sorry about the delay earlier."

He shook his head rapidly, telling her that it was no trouble and he completely understood. That made her smile widen, her eyes crinkling with happiness.

"Come again soon!"

Oh, he'd be coming back very soon, indeed.

The first thing he did after reaching home was to power on his laptop and search for Syianne's location. Glitch hissed angrily at him for disturbing his slumber atop the chair he was now sitting in but Jake's eyes were fixed on the screen.

The results baffled him, as it showed her living in a completely different country from when he had searched her before, when he had just gotten her number. And then, realisation dawned on him that she might be using a VPN.

He banged his head on the table in frustration but also a little impressed that Syianne had thought of doing something like this to protect her identity.

He was supposed to stay away from all of them, to prevent pulling people into his messes but now one of the most important people in his life literally worked a walk away from his hiding place. He couldn't change places so frequently as it hadn't even been a day and he had to give some time to the police to cool off, before he got on the move again.

He sighed, too wound up to make anything but cup noodles, he got up and went into the kitchen. Glitch trailed behind him, sniping at his heels for his own food and Jake emptied the last can of cat food into Glitch's bowl.

With a jolt, he realised that he would have to go to the supermarket tomorrow again and it brought him equal parts of excitement as well as anxiety at the thought of seeing Syianne again.

———

The next evening, he put the cans of cat food on the counter and was disappointed to find that the guy from yesterday – Percy, if he recalled right – was going to scan his items.

Jake shifted the mask on his face and looked around to see if Syianne was somewhere but to no avail. If Percy noticed him looking around, he didn't say anything. When he grabbed the bag from him, the employee room opened and Syianne came out wearing casual clothes, a bag slung over her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow, Percy!"

She came out from behind the counter and her eyes widened in surprise as they fell on him.

"Oh hi! You're the one from yesterday."

Jake cleared his throat and let out a hesitant, "Y-yeah."

Percy snickered, throwing a knowing look at Jake before turning to Syianne.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, idiot. Bring some coffee with you." He handed Jake his bag as he scrambled to bring out his wallet to pay and gave him a wide smile.

"Syianne here works the morning shifts." He winked and Jake was mortified to hear the amusement in his voice, knowing that he had been caught.

"I'm not bringing you anything until I get my three-day weekend. Anyway, nice to see you again…." She trailed off when she turned to Jake and his mind went into overdrive as he thought about whether he should tell her his real name or not.

"Phil." He blurted out, "My name's Phil."

She tilted her head, no doubt thinking about that bartender from Duskwood who was currently locked up in jail.

"Funny, I know a guy named Phil. Not from around here though." She glanced at the door giving him a final smile.

"Because all the customers come in the evening." Percy complained and Syianne only rolled her eyes at his antics.

"Well, come by in the morning if you want to chat. It's pretty chill that time."

"Deal with it. Anyway, see you tomorrow." She waved one last time and walked out, Jake's eyes following her figure until she disappeared around the corner.

"She's sweet and a little too trustful. I better not hear any complaints about you from her Phil or I won't hesitate to throw a punch or two." Percy threatened and Jake flushed before muttering a hasty excuse and practically running out of the store.

She actually talked to him today and hearing her voice, her words just made it harder for him to stay away. But it was okay if he didn't tell her who he was, right? She won't be in any danger then, right?

These thoughts chased him as he walked back to his temporary home, almost tripping over Glitch when he entered and found a disgruntled cat, waiting for his food.

———

The next morning, Jake worked in his room, occasionally shooing away Glitch who was determined to get his daily dose of affection.

"Just a minute, Glitch." He muttered, typing rapidly, his eyes scanning the screen with an eerie quickness.

A loud, disgruntled meow from his cat breaks the silence again and Jake heaved a frustrated sigh, pushing his laptop away and glaring at the culprit.

"Fine, you little devil! I'll give you breakfast first."

He walked out of the room, Glitch trailing behind him, purring in appreciation and hopped on to a chair while Jake took out the instant pancake mixture that he had recently bought. And that reminded him of the fact that Syianne was here, so close and whether he should tell her or not.

Making the pancakes in a daze, he put a plate in front of Glitch who immediately started gobbling it up. Jake huffed out a laugh and made his own plate, sitting across from his cat. The syrup was towards Glitch and when he leaned forward to take it, he was met by Glitch's paw swatting at his hand.

"What the hell? You ate already! Let me eat too!"

Glitch's paw rested on the syrup bottle and edged it towards the end of the table.

Jake froze.

"Glitch, no. Give me the syrup."

The bottle shifted a bit more.

"No, Glitch. Stop that."

The cat looked at him and stopped and Jake gave a sigh of relief, only to throw back his head in exasperation at the next moment as the bottle was finally pushed off the table.

"You little devil! I'm going to—"

The cat sprang up and ran into the other room, leaving Jake in the kitchen alone.

"Why is it always me?"

———

After cleaning up the kitchen and eating pancakes without any syrup, Jake found himself in the supermarket once again, embarrassed about being there everyday for the last three or so days.

When he put his items on the counter, including a syrup in a plastic bottle this time, he found himself facing Syianne who gave her an amused look.

"Having a good day, Phil?"

It took a moment for Jake to understand that she was talking to him and he flushed when he met her gaze.

"Not really. My cat decided to be an asshole today."

Syianne laughed and if Jake could have heard it everyday, he would. When she scanned his bandaids, she raised an eyebrow, and Jake gave her a sheepish smile, showing her his poorly wrapped hand.

"Oh no, that looks bad," she said but Jake only shook his head.

"It's better than it looks, I promise. I'm just bad at wrapping things up."

She didn't smile but only looked behind him. Seeing no more customers, she gestured for him to come to her side of the counter. Confused, he did as she asked and understanding dawned on him when he saw her opening the packet of gauze he had just bought.

"Oh, no, no. It's okay. I can do it at home." He rushed but she didn't listen, silently asking for him to hold his hand forward. When he realised that Syianne wasn't going to take no for an answer, he sighed and put his hand forward, face heating up and he regretted forgetting to wear a face mask that day.

"Are you blushing?" She asked teasingly and his flush only worsened.

"I-I'm not used to other people caring for me."

She hummed.

"That must be lonely."

She carefully unwrapped his hand, winching at the sight of blood and cleaned it with antiseptic wipes, before wrapping a bandage around the cut. Her hands were gentle but firm, as if she knew what she was doing and had done it a hundred times before. Jake was suddenly hit with a weird nostalgia, a feeling of wanting to know who she was, how many siblings she had, what her goals were.

He didn't realise when she had stopped, staring at him, as he was looking at her and only after several minutes had passed, did Syianne dropped her hands, letting him know that she was done.

The thought struck him like lightning and he quickly grabbed his bags, muttering another thank you and getting a simple smile in return. Before he knew, he was out on the streets and on the way to his house, his thoughts a raging turmoil.

"Thank you very much." He spoke softly, quietly, overwhelmed by such a gesture from her. He was essentially a stranger and she had still helped him, not knowing who he was.

She didn't know who he was.

What was he doing? Going to see her like that, finding excuses to go to the supermarket in hopes of seeing her? What did he want to accomplish?

He released a shaky sigh, running his hands through his hair, when he reached the place. Glitch, knowing that it wasn't the time for his shenanigans, only gave a welcoming meow from his place on the couch.

Maybe it was time he started searching again.

Jake opened his laptop but the ping from his phone made him look for it, heart quickening when he saw her name on it.

Syianne [5:00 pm]

Hey Jake!

How are you doing? I hope you're safe

I patched up a guy today who came in at work. He had a cat too!

Anyway, I don't know why I'm still writing but I hope you're safe and nobody got to you

Why are you so afraid of loving?

Sorry, insensitive question. Ignore that

Waiting for when you come back

...I'm still looking forward to that date

Jake's lips quirked at her messages, warmed by her concern. She had messaged him everyday ever since he went into hiding again. He hadn't replied then, being busy because of his relocation, but now….

In a bold move, very uncharacteristic for him, he messaged her back.

Jake [5:03 pm]

What if I told you that the guy you patched up was me?

Syianne [5:04 pm]

What?

His name was Phil

Jake waited as she typed and erased, all of it going on for two minutes before she stopped. Jake had a sudden, terrible feeling that perhaps he had made a mistake but soon enough, she replied.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

You're cute in real life as well <3

Jake laughed, amused by her flirty response and decided that perhaps he'd stay there for a few more days.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

What about that date at the Chinese restaurant you promised me?

Jake [5:07 pm]

Does tomorrow work for you? ;)

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood mc #duskwood phil

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storiesofsvu · 3 years

Text

Classified Affairs Ch 10

Heather Dunbar x fem!reader Warnings: language, mentions of smut, anxiety/panic attacks.

It had been a couple of weeks since Heather’s punishment had nearly destroyed you. She’d seen you briefly through that time, a couple of dinners, a shopping trip, and an evening at your condo where she fucked you so well you nearly forgot your own name, one where she let you come, over and over again until you were fully shivering and happily pleased.

She’d chosen to work from home today, knowing that she had the house to herself, her husband away at a medical conference for the next four days, coincidentally, your ‘weekend’. She’d been planning on a rather large, sex filled weekend with you, ordering a couple of new toys and sending a couple of new outfits over to the condo. To be completely honest, she was relieved, maybe even a bit delighted, knowing she didn’t have to worry about time restraints or coming up with stupid, false excuses as to why she wasn’t home. She had gotten up from her desk, figuring a midday glass of wine wouldn’t hurt alongside a snack, her phone laying on the kitchen island as she got things prepared.

The glass was just to her lips as her phone set off a series of vibrations that she recognized as your Apple Watch’s ‘congratulatory’ pattern. She picked it up, noting that it was mentioning you hitting your 150 mins of heart health thanks to exercise, your heart rate still clocking in at 150 bpm. She raised a brow, knowing that your workouts usually took place in the morning, before you really had a chance to wake up and realizing what you were doing. She flicked her phone open to double check your schedule, reassuring herself that you were indeed not at work, knowing that your heart rate usually spiked when you were running your ass of serving tables. She huffed noting that you certainly weren’t there, and that you were supposed to tell her whenever you picked up a shift.

Taking a large sip of wine she thought back to when you’d drunkenly called her, barely able to mention a coworker having a crush on you before she’d cut you off. Her lips formed a frown, wondering if you were getting up to something. You’d been so goddamn good since your last punishment that she was certain you weren’t about to act up again, so she collected her snack, wine and phone and made her way back to the home office, keeping your stats up on the app as she continue to work through her files.

Heather lost track of time, finally glancing up nearly an hour later, she let out a sigh, rubbing at her temples before picking up her phone. She instantly frowned at your stats, pausing to refresh the app, then closing it completely before reopening it and making sure it was synched properly. Your heart rate was still sitting in the 140’s, even if you had been at the gym, there was no reason for it to still be there.

‘You better be rearranging your apartment, or at a two hour workout class kitten. Because if you’re not alone right now…’ She warned.

‘I am literally lying on the kitchen floor trying to breathe.’

Your next text came through less than a moment later.

‘As much as I would hate to give you photographic evidence, I will if you don’t believe me.’

‘Honey, what are you on about?’

‘My anxiety’s spiked. I thought I’d be fine. I tried to work it off earlier, but that just made it worse. I’ve tried all the home remedies but none of them want to work’

‘What’s going on?’ the worry and concern shot through Heather, ‘should I call? Do you need to talk?’

‘I can barely hold a text conversation M’am, I’m so sorry.’

‘Honey, you have nothing to be sorry for. Does this happen often?’

‘No. Usually I have my meds. I had an appointment to get them filled yesterday but my Dr never went into the office. Now he’s backed up and I can’t get in for another two weeks, and walk ins can’t hand out Ativan. My only choice is to sit in the E.R for twelve hours or power through.’

‘Your heart is racing sweetheart.’ Her first message came through, ‘and you say you can’t breathe?!’

‘Heather…please… I know you’re trying to help but you’re making it worse. You’re making me think about it and that’s making my chest get tighter. I need to try and not think, to make sure I can breathe if I’m going to get through this.’

‘I’m sorry.’

You were half surprised when Heather actually sent an apologetic text to you, it was something you’d never, ever expected, though, in this particular situation, the dynamic of your normal interactions was changed a little bit. You continued to lie on the cool linoleum of the kitchen floor, adjusting every so often to make sure your skin was touching the cold parts of the floor. Pulling ice cubes from the slowly melting tray to hold against your pulse points as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe, watching the relax settling on your watch. Usually it didn’t get this bad, usually you were able to conquer it, and if you felt super jittery at work, you’d pop an Ativan and be fine.

Something just didn’t feel right, you barely realized what was happening until you felt like you were about to pass out. Normally it was just the fluttering in your chest, the extra shaking energy that you were able to burn off by doing something physical, but whatever was in you today was mental, and you slowly started to feel the tears burn in your eyelids as you tried to gain your composure. Your throat was so tight you started to wonder if you’d developed an unknown allergy in the last twenty four hours.

You let out a strangled gasp, your body jumping at the sound of the condo door opening. Your brain, being complete paranoid, caused your heart to leap into your throat, panic soared through your body with the sudden intrusion that someone had broken into your apartment, you let out a small cry, accepting the fact that you were probably about to die, your heart thundering in your ears as you shot up to sitting, your vision tunnelled, leaving you even more panicked.

The nausea coursed through you, and thankfully the figure in front of you wasn’t actually there to murder you, pulling the garbage can from under the sink just in the nick of time as you lost your only meal of the day into it.

You felt a tender hand making sure your hair was out of the way of your face, tucking the loose pieces into your ponytail and softly rubbing at your back before you dropped back against the island behind you. A bottle of water came into your view that you took the cap off, taking a small sip.

“You really didn’t have to come.” You croaked up, now realizing that Heather was your house guest.

“Oh I really think I did.” She replied, a brief dig through her bag and a bottle of pills came into your view, “take at least one, I don’t want you to feel that bad ever again.”

You took the bottle from her, it was labelled as Ativan, and was completely full to the brim, way more pills than your doctor would ever give you at one time. You raised what you could of a brow at her before you popped the lid open, dumping one under your tongue, letting it dissolve.

“How…did you…?”

“Sweetheart.” She smirked, “there’s got to be at least a couple of good perks for being a politician.”

“Thank you.” You started to feel the anxiety well up again, tears breaking into your eyes, “you really didn’t have to.”

“On the contrary,” she hummed, helping you up off the floor and guiding you to the couch, “you’re supposed to be taking care of yourself kitten…you’ve let that slide. No thanks to that fucking doctor of yours.” She huffed in annoyance, making sure you were settled on the couch instead of the hard floor.

“I’m sorry.” You ducked your gaze, your cheeks heating as a tear rolled down your face.

“None of that now.” She flicked at your chin with her finger gently, bringing her gaze up to yours. “Let that Ativan settle in, help yourself to a second one. I’ll set you up with a better doctor next week if that’s alright?”

“It is.” You took a heavy breath, sinking into the couch, trying to focus on your breathing as the meds kicked in.

“Did you eat kitten?” Heather asked and you winced.

“Uh…breakfast….and….then a beer….i thought it would help…clearly I’m an idiot.”

“You are not.” She cast you a glance as she moved around the island, pulling open the fridge door, “this is all leftover take out?”

“I’m sorry.” You nearly whimpered, your heart still beating out of your chest, worried that she would punish you, tears blurring your eyes “I got the groceries yesterday and meant to meal prep but I’m so fucking tired after serving snooty politicians all day the last thing I want to do is work more…” your breath caught in your throat and your heart skyrocketed, “no offence..M’am.”

“Oh kitten….” Heather’s face softened as she turned back to you, “you need to breathe, to relax.” She shut the fridge, “are you feeling better yet?”

“Barely.”

“Okay.” She turned back to the fridge, pulling out the bottle of rose and grabbing an empty glass, “I know you’re not supposed to mix alcohol with it, but I think you deserve it, and it might help knock you out for a bit. I feel like you’re burnt out, two jobs plus I know you’ve been training new kids like crazy this month. You still have the next three days off, right?”

“Yes M’am.” You managed though a shaky breath, taking the glass of wine from her, managing a small sip as your throat finally started to not feel so swollen anymore.

“Kitten try and finish that, I’m going to run you a bath, see if that helps.”

Before you could even protest, you were left alone, your body still vibrating against the couch as you heard the water start to run. It was a few moments later that Heather came out with a soft smile on her face, cupping your cheek as she laid a kiss on your head.

“Go get in the bath. I’ll take care of everything else. If the heat is too much and making it worse just go lie down in bed, alright?” You gave her a shaky nod, forcing yourself up from the couch, your body still tense and jittery, she handed the bottle of Ativan off to you and gently nudged you toward the bathroom.

Slipping under the water you let out a gentle sigh, while the heat wasn’t exactly ideal it seemed to be at least relaxing your muscles that had been locked up the entire morning. You let your head rest against the tub, closing your eyes as you focussed on breathing, you could hear muffled noises from the bedroom, not totally sure what Heather was doing. You weren’t quite sure how long you managed under the water, as much as you knew it was relaxing your body, it was doing nothing for calming your heart rate. You managed to lug yourself out of the bath, draining it as you swiped the bottle of Ativan, popping a second one under your tongue and sipping back some of the wine Heather had left you.

When you pulled yourself together enough to get into the bedroom, it was clear what she’d done, fresh sheets on the bed, fluffy duvet waiting for you alongside plush pillows. You let out a quiet groan, dropping against it as the second pill mixed with the wine started to knock you out, not to mention the complete and utter exhaustion from fighting back the intense anxiety for the past twelve hours.

You weren’t sure how much later it was when you finally woke up, but you knew it had to have been late afternoon, the sun having already started to slowly sink in the sky. You could hear the light rumble of the dryer in the distance, when you rolled over, you noticed your phone plugged in on the nightstand, double checking the time. You’d been out for hours. You also had a slew of missed notifications, a couple from your work app, confirming shifts over the next week, a few Facebook ones you didn’t care about, and a couple of texts from Becca, inviting you out to the movies that night. You grumbled quietly, shooting her off a reply that you were busy, you weren’t but after the day you’d had, the idea of having to go out in public and deal with your coworkers was not ideal.

You shoved out of bed, pausing to change into a cozy pair of pyjama shorts, and a hoodie. Your body heat was finally lowered enough, you could still feel a slight amount of jitters rocking through your body, but you felt a world of better. Even just knowing that you had Ativan made you feel so much more relaxed, that you wouldn’t have to try and fight it on your own.

When you pulled open the bedroom door, you brow furrowed at the sight of Heather at your kitchen island, a row of Tupperware containers in front of her as she scooped something out of a pan into them. She was more casually dressed than normal, a pair of expensive leggings and a three quarter sleeved white very cozy looking sweater type blouse on. Though, you honestly couldn’t remember what she’d been wearing earlier, if it wasn’t for the bottle of pills, you probably would’ve forgotten she’d even been there at all. She glanced up at the sound of the door opening, her face moving into a small smile,

“You feeling better kitten?” You nodded, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“You’re….still here?”

She chuckled softly, scooping what was left in the pan to the last container before she turned to rinse it in the sink before placing it in the open dishwasher.

“You had no food.” She shrugged, “I put in an order, figured I’d use my time wisely to make sure you had some meals ready to go for the rest of the week. This way all you have to do is plop them in the microwave.”

“Thank you…” you ducked your gaze from her again, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie as you leant on the island, facing her.

“Hey…” her arm reached across the island, lifting your chin up, “I said none of that, remember?” You nodded, “I told you, I want you healthy and taken care of. And I understand that that can be a pretty fucking hard thing to do for yourself when you’re working as much as someone like you are. You do remember that your weekly allowance is supposed to help alleviate stress, right? I wanted you to not have to work so much.”

“You do remember when this whole thing started I had three jobs right?”

“Do I need to up your allowance?” She asked, raising a brow as she picked up another pan, adding veggies into the containers.

“M’am, no..”

“I will if these assholes refuse to give you a raise.”

“I already got one.” You reminded her, “I’m just extra exhausted from training so many people. It’s hard enough trying to do your job, but to have to stop and verbally explain every single step of what you’re doing and why makes everything take five times longer, and then the customers are way more antsy over how long things are taking. And even if I’m not training, people seek me out for question which throws off my flow and it just…fucking sucks.” You dropped into a stool at the island. Heather raised a brow at you before she poured out a glass of wine, sliding it across to you.

“If you didn’t take another pill when you woke up, I think it’s time for a bit more wine.” She smiled, “dinner’s on its way.” The dryer beeped, pulling her attention, “give me a moment.”

“Heather, just leave it, I’ll deal with it in the morning.”

“You absolutely will not.” She assured, moving around the island, pausing briefly to kiss your temple, “if you feel so inclined, throw the lids on these, toss them in the fridge.” She gestured to the containers before disappearing into the laundry room.

You shifted off the stool, still feeling the exhaustion in your body as you moved around it, as you started to clip lids onto containers you glanced up to the rest of the apartment.

Your brow furrowed at the sight, you knew Heather had mentioned more than once that her ‘taking care of you’ extended beyond the bedroom, but she usually paid someone to do whatever was needed. Today, there was something different, her showing up when you were at your worst, encouraging you in the right direction, and reminding you that you were worthy and she wasn’t upset over something that you couldn’t control? The bath, the fresh sheets? On top of that she’d cooked enough food to last you the week, done your laundry, and your living room was completely tidied and clean, all the dirty dishes waiting in the dishwasher. Along with how gentle she was being with you, making sure you were taken care of, there was something nearly maternal about it. You started to feel yourself nearly melt at the feeling, that she actually did care about you, as you stacked the prepped meals up and slipped them into the fridge.

You dropped the rest of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, not even noticing the fact that she had managed to put your laundry away while you did so.

“Thought I told you to relax?” There was a slight teasing to her voice as her hand trailed up your side.

“I’m just trying to help.” You admitted, “you really don’t have to do all of this.”

“We all need help sometimes, even if you don’t know how to ask for it.” Her eyes gleamed for a moment before she pressed a kiss to your forehead, “and you need a fucking break.” She nudged you back to your stool and you settled in, your eyes glancing to the clock, noticing it was basically dinner time.

“Shouldn’t you be home by now?” You asked and Heather chuckled,

“Normally? Yes.” She shot you a grin, “Rob’s away for the next bit at a conference.” She let out a soft sigh, pouring herself out a glass of wine as she leant against the island. “My original plan for your weekend was to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name, not let you out of my sight for three days….but…all things considered…” she took a large sip, “you need some relaxing.”

“Oh…” your breath caught into your throat, “M’am, I mean…I could still..”

“No.” Her voice hardened, “at least not tonight. Tonight you’re going to eat dinner, drink some wine and we can watch a couple of movies. I want you calm, safe and asleep at a reasonable hour, and I’m making you breakfast tomorrow.”

“Are….are you…staying?” You asked hesitantly, glancing up at her surprised with the soft smile on her face.

“Unless you don’t want me to.” She sucked back more wine, “kitten I do think you deserve some undivided attention, and this seemed like the most opportune moment. You’re off and I don’t have to be home until Thursday.”

“What about work?”

“They can try to call if they really want to.” She shrugged, “I may need to steal your desk for a few emails or virtual meetings, but aside from that I’m all yours.” Her phone suddenly buzzed, distracting her for a moment, “that’s the pizza, go get settled on the couch and pick a movie or show.”

“Pizza?” You raised a brow, even knowing Heather was a regular human, you didn’t expect her to be one to order pizza when she was trying to baby you.

“Yes, pizza.” She chuckled, “we all have our guilty pleasures, don’t we?”

“And here I thought yours was younger women.” You teased, your confidence back and she barked back a laugh, rolling her eyes at you.

“You’re ridiculous kitten. Now….go get settled.” She gestured to the couch again and you huffed, grabbing the wine bottle and glasses before you dropped into the couch, nestling under the blankets as you skimmed through the available entertainment.

Heather paused to collect a couple of plates and the roll of paper towels before she joined you on the couch. You suggested a couple of different movies, though she let you take control, wanting to make sure you had the best night you could after your hellish day. You were honestly surprised, once again, when her free arm laid around the back of the couch, and she didn’t even wince as you nestled into her shoulder. You let out a heavy yawn near the end of the second movie and she chuckled, pressing a kiss to your head.

While the credits rolled, she took the time to clean up, tossing the leftovers into the fridge, and the plates into the dishwasher before starting it. She couldn’t help but smile softy at the way your eyes were drooping as you tried to pay attention to the finale of the movie.

“Kitten…” the demanding in her voice pulled your attention from the t.v and you let out another yawn, “it’s bedtime.” She nodded toward the bedroom.

“I know.” You yawned, standing and tossing the blanket onto the couch behind you as you flicked off the t.v, “you can go. I promise I’m just going to brush my teeth and go to sleep.”

“I’m not going anywhere….remember?” She smirked and your heart nearly jumped into your throat as she smirked.

“Oh..” you breathed, “I…I didn’t think you meant it.”

“I did.” She smiled, flicking the light off, “now…bed…”

You followed her lead, swiftly brushing your teeth and shucking the hoodie as you slipped under the covers. She only took a moment in the ensuite after you, returning in her own silky pyjama set that you weren’t totally sure where it came from (though you had been passed out for more than half the day). She slid under the covers, an arm wrapping around you,

“Remember that this doesn’t happen often kitten.”

“I know Mommy.” You yawned again, nestling into her chest, your arms wrapping around her middle, “I can at least take advantage in the meantime?” You smiled softly and she chuckled.

“That’s my good girl.” She stoked at your hair softly, “now…get some sleep.

”Are you going to be here when I wake up?” You asked, your voice slurred with sleep.

“Did I not tell you I’ll be here for the next three days?” She asked with a laugh.

Though this time you didn’t respond, your chest rising slowly as you fell asleep against her. Heather smirked, turning off the bedside light as she sunk deeper into the bed, letting herself cuddle you for once. It wasn’t something she ever did, wasn’t something she had been planning on doing this weekend, but she knew you needed it. A bad day was one thing, but a bad day that nearly sent you to the hospital was way fucking worse. She was glad she was able to help you as much as she could. And honestly, it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep with your warmth against her.

_________ @lesbianologist @screenee @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @laurenhope13 @imlike-so-gaydude @svulife-rl @gay-ass-bitch @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @paulson-hargitay @molllss @solemnnova @svushots @nocreditinthestraightworld @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @thatgaygiraffesquirrelgirl @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @rosiewritesagain @imaginaryoperagloves @wandasbrat @lustvolle-liebe @disn3y7 @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @swimmingstudentchaos891 @anne-gillettes-wh0r3 @season4scullyhair @whimsicallymad @alexusonfire @mmmmokdok @lazarettta @muscatmusic18 @sia2raw @ladysc @Annieray2020 @dxtery

#Heather dunbar #heather dunbar x reader #house of cards #classified affairs #heather dunbar fluff

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