#especially yesterday onward

[violetsareblue-afterdark]

haha the ai are a little more wild the last few days huh?

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (02) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 11.9k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

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

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, ye-yes, sir,” you drag out.

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you at least have a soft copy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck. What an embarrassment,” Jungkook groans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You visibly shake but Jungkook doesn’t let up.

“Answer me.”

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

“You work hard?”

“Yes, sir.”

“In what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Understood, Mr. Jeon.” 

You bow and head out the door. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s Ms. Cho?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will, sir.”

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

You wish he’d offer an apology.

He wishes you’d say that you’re okay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[From: Mom] it isn’t leaking anymore! 

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

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

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

“I will. What about you?”

“I hope so.”

“Have you had dinner?”

“Hmm, yeah,” you hum. 

“And where are you now?”

“Outside the library,” you say. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you feeling better, darling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that all you need, Mr. Jeon?”

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

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

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

Jungkook, not keen on answering truthfully, merely shrugs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not what I saw growing up.”

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

Jungkook stays silent as he munches on his steak.

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

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

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

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

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

“Not everyone does that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He picks up the phone and calls you.

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

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

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

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

“You should clock out now, then.”

“Oh, but the reports, sir. I—”

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

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

“Ms. Cho?” Jungkook repeats your name.

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

“Yes, that’s what I just said.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[always-andromeda]

𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Ellie Williams x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 1232

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ You and Ellie enjoy an all-too-rare "quiet" moment with each other.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ soooo...this is my first time writing something for Ellie...please be gentle lmao. I decided to be a little easy on myself and start off with something light with absolutely no plot. Just pure, fluffy porn. That being said, I want to add that from this point onwards, anything I write based in the TLOU universe, I will be including links on what we can do to aid Palestine. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.

HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ smut (minors, do not interact, please and thank you), reader has no physical description aside from being afab and able-bodied, fingering (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), pet names (babe, baby), slight overstimulation, general softness, nothing else I can think of!

Early mornings suit you, Ellie decides. Especially when it's all cold and quiet and blue light as a thin layer of frost covers the outside of the window by her bed. You're both thankful that it obscures the view of any eyes that may have been peeking into Ellie's garage.

They would've seen you sprawled out on her mattress and Ellie slotted firmly between your legs, paying all sorts of attention to your thighs. And thank fucking god, you're the only one who can hear the filthy words that fall from that wonderful mouth of hers.

"You're so fucking soft, babe." Then she chuckles, "And so easy to work up."

Your thighs shiver with anticipation and you're far beyond the point of feeling any kind of shame about it. There's only urgency filling your chest as you hope that Ellie's teasing turns into something. It wouldn't be the first time that she'd spent so long on you that Jesse had to come and "wake her" for patrol.

Now that had been a special kind of torture: Ellie hoisting herself up off of you and yelling to Jesse that she'd be right out as she pulled on her hoodie and gathered her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. She grabbed her backpack, kissed you on the forehead, and muttered, "See you tonight," with a cocky grin. Then she fucking left.

And you'd have to shake away whatever mounting pressure she'd built up inside of you and uncomfortably shuffle your way home in yesterday's clothes all while trying to avoid the watching eyes of Jackson's population. It felt like every ounce of deprivation was written on your face in those moments and you hated it.

So you thread a hand through her hair, gently urging her towards your cunt.

"Hey, hey, hey, I'm gettin' there," she teases and removes your hand.

“Now, please,” you whine.

But it’s no use. With a little laugh under her breath, she keeps peppering kisses along your bikini line. You know she relishes in it, listening to you gasp as she gets closer and closer to where you need her only to pull back moments before her lips could connect with your center.

She must be feeling nice this morning; she hasn’t admonished you for squirming or whining. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t have patrol today. Or maybe it’s because you spent hours after dinner the night prior relieving her stress as well. Or maybe it’s just the simple fact that quiet moments like these are rare. All you know is that you can handle it; you can handle her.

You ball up the sheets in your fists and adjust your hips ever so slightly, settling in for whatever Ellie has planned for you. She uses a finger to pull the thin cotton crotch of your underwear to the side and groans to herself.

She laughs, “I don’t even have to try and you’re soaked.”

You lift yourself up on your elbows to look down at her. “Imagine what would happen if you did try,” you quip.

“Tough talk for a girl in your position,” she says. Before you can give her another snarky reply, she licks a long stripe up the center of you. The sudden warmth is welcome but it still startles you. 

Ellie adds with a scoff, “Besides, I don’t need to imagine. I am well aware of what happens when I try.” With that, she eases a finger in you.

In and out, she patiently worked you open until asking, “Want another, babe?”

You give a breathy yes. A beat passes where you wait for her to request a please alongside it. But it never comes. She must be feeling really nice.

With a whine, you feel her slip that second finger in. She’s methodic, curling her lithe fingers with each pump and carefully itching an ache inside of you that begs to be scratched. Bit by bit, she only feeds the flame; only makes it climb higher and higher up your belly until it seems to burn at the back of your throat. That wet squelch between your legs intensifies as she fucks you faster. You let out a soft moan and Ellie curses under her breath.

“That’s right, baby. You’ve got it.”

You can’t quite see her expression but you can tell she’s got that smug smirk creeping across her face. It’s the face she makes when she can tell just how well she’s playing you.

Right then she decides to go for the kill. Her tongue flicks over your swollen clit in time with her scissored fingers and before too long, you’re chasing it. Rutting against her mouth, you follow that all consuming fire that burns away each and every one of your better senses. It craves nothing more than pleasure and the praise of the girl you love more than life itself.

Strangely, you don’t mind it. In another world, you could afford to be so needy and so selfish whenever you wanted. Perhaps that’s why you’re so drawn to the feeling now; to the fleetingness of it. It’s lightning in a bottle. And with the heat mounting, you feel ready to burst.

A string of wanton curses falls from your lips. Bones scorched with pleasure, you're quickly approaching the point where you’ll be nothing more than ash.

Ellie groans desperately against your cunt, “C’mon, give it to me. You’re almost there.”

That’s all you need to fall over the edge. You shatter as soon as your climax makes contact. You’re a mess of limbs. Legs wrapping around the woman attached to your cunt. Heels digging into her back, still chasing that endless more until it damn near hurts. Chest heaving as you start to realize that it never will be enough. But somehow, that’s alright. If it was enough, there’d be nothing left for her to give; nothing left to yearn. And you’d rather spend the rest of your life wanting her than wandering in oblivion.

Finally, the pleasure gets to be too much. You’re all but a pile of smoldering cinders, terrifyingly close to blowing away in the wind. You cry out and tap the side of Ellie temple, signaling the end of the

She quickly obliges and switches to pressing gentle kisses to your mound between whispered praises. Hands gripping your thighs, her thumbs swirl soothing circles to your trembling flesh. Her kisses work their way up your belly, between your breasts, across your collar, up to your lips.

“You alright?” she asks softly.

Your head still spins a bit but you manage a nod and a low hum which only makes her chuckle.

A thin layer of sweat on her forehead sheens in the light. The smattering of freckles you adore dance with the flush on her cheeks. Judging by the creases next to her eyes and the smile she wears, she’s languishing in how you look too.

“I sure did a number on you, huh?”

“A little,” you mutter. But you know you’re not fooling her.

Ellie settles at your side and weaves an arm behind your neck, loosely holding you to her. You stay like that for a few seconds; quietly intertwined.

You look up at her through your lashes and break the silence. “Love you, Els.”

She smiles and presses one last kiss to your nose. “Love you too, weirdo.”

[gguk-n]

Pivotal choice (Carlos Sainz x Race Engineer!Vowels!Reader)

Summary- Just as the summer break 2024 started Carlos Sainz Jr announced that he would be joining Williams Racing from 2025 onwards. Everyone thought it was because James Vowels was persistent little did they know, Carlos's decision rested in Vowel's daughter's hand who was currently working as a race engineer at Williams.

There had been a shift in Williams from the start of 2024 season, it wasn't visible to the world but anyone in Formula One could see it. James Vowels, it seems was making the right decisions, but in actuality it was his daughter, Y/N who had just joined as a race engineer who was calling the shots during race strategies and giving her opinion to her dad which helped him make decisions. She was the reason Logan got his first point last year and the reason Alex was able to compete for points. That's how her and Logan had grown closer together since they were closer in age and had the same sense of humour.

Vowels spent a lot of his time courting Carlos Sainz Junior, especially after he had lost his seat to Lewis Hamilton in the start of the season much to his daughter's dismay. She couldn't believe her father was being so irrational and persistent which translated into her growing annoyance and hatred for the Ferrari driver. Y/N had caught Carlos's eyes the first time her dad had dragged her along to dinner with Carlos after the race. She had made sure to let her father and the potential Williams driver know of her annoyance at being dragged here and the fact that they were possibly making Logan seatless for next year.

She remembers it like yesterday when her dad after much deliberation and push had resigned Logan. She had even offered to be his race engineer to help him; her dad didn't think she could do much but agreed. She was currently not only Logan's race engineer but his therapist. So, you can imagine how much she was hating being here. Vowels got up to use the restroom leaving the two together; Y/N ate her food quietly not even looking up. "I heard you're Logan's race engineer" Carlos began. She nodded. "I know it must be difficult to sit and have dinner with the guy who might take your drivers seat. I'm sorry but the world of motorsports is cut throat and" she cut Carlos off with "I know, I'm just salty dad's being like this since Logan has potential if given the right chances, not looking for a replacement." she said looking into his eyes. Carlos's breath hitched in his throat, those were beautiful eyes he thought. "Again I'm sorry but I need to weigh all my options" he continued. "I know" she hung her head down while continuing to cut into her food. Her father was back soon, trying to cozy up and butter Carlos up. There was a perpetual grimace on her face apart from her usual frown.

The dinner couldn't end any sooner because Y/N bolted out with a quick good bye. Carlos was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this girl who looked at him with more disdain than Logan himself. Carlos found himself looking at her whenever she was around or searching for her during race weekends. He had found out from Alex that she was James Vowel's only daughter; extremely smart since she graduated from mechanical engineering and masters in automobile. She had used her connections to land good internships so that her being hired by Williams wouldn't be weird. She was a nepo baby who knew what she wanted and how to get it. To add insult to injury, she was friends with Logan which explained the disdain. Carlos found her interesting; she was funny from what he had gathered and found himself laughing at her jokes when he would over hear her conversations, she was pretty which he had decided the first time he saw her walk in with her dad, she was close with not only Logan Sargeant but Oscar Piastri who she didn't glare at like she would glare at him from time to time. It was starting to hurt Carlos's feelings.

The next time they met, Y/N looked even more annoyed with his presence then she could've been the last time they met, he thought. She was being dragged along by her dad again even though she threatened to run away. "Dad, I'm not having dinner with him. For goodness sake, let me mourn in peace." she snapped. "I don't get what you're mourning. Having Carlos on Williams is what we need. Also, I would like you to be his race engineer. Both of you are smart and will make a great team, I can already see it" Vowels reasoned trying to get his daughter to see the bigger picture. "Well I don't. I'll be Alex's engineer if Logan's no longer on the team" she stated. "You do not get a say in today's dinner, we'll discuss your plans for next year later. Now get dressed before I fire you" he commanded. "Ugh, that's why I didn't want to work for you. Even Sauber would've been fine at this point" she whined. "Well, we have points and they don't" he snapped. "Would've had more, had you not fucked Logan over" she snapped back and went to get dressed. "Language missy" James shouted back at her.

Carlos was bearing the brunt of much of Y/N's annoyance who got jabbed in her rib by her dad about 4 times since they sat down and the food wasn't even out yet. "I really want you and Y/N to get along since I feel like if you join Williams, Y/N would be a good fit as your race engineer even though she's a rookie. I'm not just saying this because she's my daughter." Vowels told Carlos. "Well, I'm not a good fit for him" she muttered. "If you'll excuse us Carlos" Vowels said sternly dragging her out, "I swear, if you do not behave I will drop Logan right now, God knows how much I want to" he seethed. "dad" she whispered with tears in her eyes. "Now, you'll walk in and be on your best behaviour." he commanded. She nodded and quickly wiped away her tears and walked in with her dad. Carlos noticed the sudden shift, her demeanour sadder and hurt, not the usual snappy and sarcastic self. Dinner ended without anymore hiccups, Y/N only nodded her head along to whatever her dad had to say.

Carlos wasn't sure what Vowels told his daughter which made her look like a puppy that had been kicked. But he did ask the restaurant they were eating at to pack him an assortment of their best dessert; he had heard from the others that she loved desserts, maybe this would cheer her up, he thought. He grabbed the bag before exiting the restaurant and handed it to her, her dad was waiting for the valet to bring his car who was now watching the pair interact. "What's this?" she asked. "Something to cheer you up" Carlos said. "I don't want it and you don't need to cheer me up" she said trying to hand him the bag back. "I know but I want to" he clarified. "You're already in my dad's good books, you don't have to try this hard" she said. "I don't want to, I want to be in your good books" Carlos smiled. Y/N's heart skipped a beat watching him smile, this was weird. "I don't think you can be" she corrected. "Well then, just enjoy the food. Don't think about it too much" he leaned into whisper in her ear, winking at her before climbing into his car which was ready for him. Y/N was staring at the bag in her hand and the driver that just handed it to her before leaving. She felt guilty now for treating him like shit when he was just trying to stay in the sport like anyone would.

She was in her home, slowly unboxing the package from Carlos which had a collection of macaroons, donuts, cheesecakes, red velvet cakes. This was so much food for anyone, she could have this for a couple days. The next time she meets Carlos, she should thank him, she thought as she took a bite of the coffee flavoured macaroon which tasted too good to even be real.

She got to meet Carlos in the next race, instead of running away or frowning like she had been doing the past couple months, she smiled at him and walked up to him; Carlos thought he was dreaming. The Y/N Vowels was walking up to him, it felt unreal, he almost pinched himself. "Thanks for the sweet treats, I loved them." she said. "That's a relief, I wasn't sure what you liked so I got you a few of everything" he replied. "Well, next time you wanna get me something, there is this patisserie in Paris." she began. "Tell me the address and I'll bring that to you next time" he interrupted. "I was just kidding. I enjoyed them. Thanks but that doesn't mean I'm okay with whatever is happening" she corrected. "If it means you'll stop looking at me like I killed a man than that's a win in my books" he laughed. She waved him off and walked away to the Williams garage.

"Were you talking to Y/N?" Lando asked. "yeah" Carlos said. "Why? Fancy her?" Lando laughed. "Maybe" Carlos thought out loud. "Mate, I think she likes Logan or something" Lando said immediately. "Really?" Carlos asked, a little hurt. "Yeah, I think that's what Oscar was talking about to Lily or something, I just over heard them anyways" Lando shrugged.

Carlos didn't think he liked Y/N, not until Lando asked him. That's when he realised that he did. There was a reason he tried so hard to make her like him and wished she would talk to him in all those dinners. He felt like he understood why she was being so annoyed with him since he would possibly replace the guy she liked. Carlos was a little hurt, he wished that was a piece of information Lando hadn't passed onto him.

Y/N on the other hand, found herself thinking about Carlos a lot, since he tried to cheer her up. She realised that she was being too harsh on Carlos when it was not his fault and if there was anyone she should be angry at was her dad and not Carlos. She found herself looking through his race stats and his strategies. She couldn't help but admire him for his craft. Maybe, she was being a little too unwelcoming. Obviously, she would fight tooth and nail for Logan; her dad wasn't having his way this easily.

The next dinner, Y/N felt like Carlos wasn't talking to her like the previous dinners. He would try to get her input on anything and listen intently even if she was bad mouthing him but right now, he was talking only business with her dad. She had decided to be civil today and didn't even make a snide remarks. A part of her was hurt, maybe she deserved it after the shitty way she had been treating Carlos. Dinner took forever to end, for other reasons than the previous ones. She tried to strike up a conversation with Carlos but nothing came of it.

A few weeks later, her father had stopped pestering her to tag along to dinners with Carlos. She was happy this way, until at family dinner. "I think I'm close to signing Carlos" James told his wife. "That sounds wonderful, darling" she remarked. "What do you mean?" Y/N almost shouted. "Not having you around seemed very fruitful to me, considering you're always frowning at the poor guy" your father corrected. "You can't kick Logan out without giving him a fair chance." she pointed out. "I gave him a chance and he blew it, it's not my fault" your father reprimanded. "No you did not. I can't believe you're behaving like this" she pushed the food away. "If you are going to be this rude, leave. I'll see what you can do without my name" your father replied. She had tears pricking her eyes. "dad" she began. "Just because you're my only daughter, doesn't mean I will let you behave like a rude brat and get away with it. Go on, I want to see what you can do with out me or my help" he said. He wasn't like this, she thought. Her mother tried to calm her father down but Y/N left.

Their fight wasn't over. It had seeped into their work where they would only talk when necessary. Everyone in Williams could fell the tense environment. Logan and Alex tried to diffuse the environment but Y/N just brushed it off, until she couldn't anymore. There were rumours floating around that Logan would be replaced next year or worse mid season because of the shit her dad was blabbering about in interviews. She was sick and tired of that man, that's why she was now storming into his office. The secretary left quickly, sensing the atmosphere.

"Dad, what is wrong with you? You need media training, not your drivers" she snapped. "What is this behaviour? Is this how you talk to your father?" he raised his voice. "Mr Vowels, please behave like an adult. Please don't talk crap about your drivers while they are driving for you at least" she reprimanded. " Miss Vowels, I'll talk however I like" he snapped back. The Miss Vowels hurt, "dad" she huffed. "I'm not your dad in this office. I'm the team principal of a team that is failing and I want to bring to the top" he replied sternly. "You can do all that without disposing people off like collateral damage" she pointed. "I'll do what I think is right" he said. "If you want Carlos to sign, stop talking about him in every interview like a love sick teenager. Tell him our stats and make promises you can keep and then if he signs give your driver who had been with you since his junior career a respectful send off" she said turning around. "You don't mind Carlos joining" he asked hopeful. "It's your team. I'm just an employee" she replied dejected.

Y/N had tears streaming down her face when Logan met her. "I'm sorry, I'm such a shitty friend. I told you I'll do anything for you but I can't" she cried. "It's okay. I know you are trying your best" Logan said wrapping her in his arms. "It's hard fighting your dad" she sobbed. "I know" he patted her back. "I don't blame you for it" he smiled bitterly rubbing her back. "Maybe I shouldn't have joined Williams" she sobbed. "Hey! You helped me score points and are giving valuable input, don't say that. I'm so proud of you and how far you've come" he said looking at her and wiping her tears. His hands were cupping her cheeks, "You did what you could, now it's my turn" he smiled at her. "I'll do whatever it takes. I'll continue racing even if it's not in formula one, I won't stop racing" he declared. He wiped away her tears, "Now smile, I hate it when my best friend cries" he teased.

Maybe talking to Carlos was like fraternising with the enemy, maybe that's why she felt awkward approaching him. She should have no reason to approach him anyways. There are already weird rumours floating around because of her father, she didn't want to add fuel to the fire.

Y/N ran into Carlos when she was rushing to her garage at the Spanish GP, where there were rumours floating around that he would announce the team he was joining. "Sorry" she apologised looking at the man she had run into. "It's okay" Carlos replied. "Did you sign a contract yet?" she asked abruptly. "No" Carlos replied scratching his neck. "Weigh in all you options. Whatever choice you make, let it be the best it is for you" she advised. "I thought you didn't want me at Williams" he commented. "I was being too emotional about losing my best friend. I've matured now" she smiled at him. "Logan's your best friend?" he asked, Carlos really needs to focus on more important things instead of the fact that his crush isn't crushing on another man, but he was a man of simple needs. "yeah. I mean you'll probably understand since....if something like this happened to Lando" she said shuffling her feet. "yeah" Carlos nodded. "Good luck with the decision" Y/N wished him. "You know, maybe we could go out for food" Carlos suggested. "Isn't it unethical since I'm William's team principal's daughter?" she smirked. "I haven't signed yet, so no" Carlos smiled. "Don't you want to spend time with your family" she asked. "Maybe you could join me" he winked. "What?" she asked, blushing. "I was kidding, but if you want to, I don't mind" now he was smirking. "Ah, no. Let's go out after the triple header's done" she told him. "No take backs" Carlos insisted, his tone firm as he scanned her eyes. "Ferrari's hottest driver just asked me out, I'd be a fool to say no" she teased. Carlos was now blushing, "I'll see you in Silverstone" he said, "for our date" he added tentatively. "yeah" she said biting her lower lip trying not to smile.

Y/N was counting down the days to Silverstone. The weeks didn't seem to pass. She didn't want anyone knowing either, not now anyways, what if she jinxed it?

The British GP was a big deal since it was Williams home race. Y/N was very busy with preparing everything related to work on the car. She had been working with Logan closely to get him the upgrades, which was taking longer than she hoped. Logan finishing just below points and Alex in points was great news. Everyone was ecstatic in the team and Vowels called for a team dinner which Y/N was thinking of ways to avoid. Her relation with her father was repairing it self slowly with the helpful intervention from her mother; "I will not be caught in a cross fire. This is a house not a war zone. Get along or I'm throwing you out James" her mum told her dad. That's why they had started being civil which in turn led to the atmosphere at Williams improving as well.

Y/N had lied saying that she was catching up with old friends and escaped the dinner after a lot of whining and cribbing on Alex and Logan's part for leaving them.

She got back, showered and got dressed. A white midi body con dress was calling her name. Carlos picked her up from her home, like a gentleman and held the door. "You look gorgeous" Carlos smiled checking her out. "Thank you Carlos, you look quite breath taking yourself" she breathed out.

They drove to the restaurant, talking about the most random things but racing was off the table. "If I knew how pretty you looked laughing I would've stolen you away ages ago" Carlos commented making Y/N blush. "I'm not that easy to entertain" she chided. "I know, I've been on the receiving end of some very angry stares" he laughed. "In my defence, my dad was being an ass" she spoke. "It's okay. I forgive you" he smiled.

The dinner ended rather quickly, much to the pair's dismay. "Do you want to do this again sometime?" Carlos asked hesitantly. "I would love to. Next week is off" she suggested. "Would you like to come to Monaco?" Carlos asked. "Yeah, see you then" she said kissing his cheek. "What will it take for you to kiss my lips?" he teased. "hmm..I'm a simple woman, a couple more dates maybe" she teased back. "I don't mind seeing you as often as I can but are you really going to keep me waiting?" he leaned in. "Maybe. But I could change my mind if you behave" Y/N bopped his nose and opened the door to her house biding him good night.

She was in Monaco next week, Carlos had come to pick her up from the airport and drove her around. She hadn't been in Monaco in a while. The place was warmer and the sun was shining down on them as they drove around. At night, they had dinner at a really nice Italian place. When they were walking around on the beach, "Spend the summer break with me?" Carlos asked. "I don't spend my holidays with random men" she teased. "Am I a random man?" Carlos cocked his eyebrow. "You aren't my boyfriend either" she retorted. "Well, maybe I'll ask you to be my girlfriend over the break, you'll have to find out thought" he joked. "Hmm..you drive a hard bargain Mr Sainz" she acted like she was thinking. She turned to him, "If this kiss is worth it, I might just spend the break with you" she provoked. "You're spending that break with me" he stated before he crashed his lips against her. Y/N's lips were warm and cushiony as Carlos's soft ones moved against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands found home on her waist. His nose bumping her cheek as they deepened the kiss. She pulled away, out of breath, "I guess I'm spending my break with you" she smiled at him. Carlos began to pepper his face with kisses.

The two of them had to wait for 2 more races. They were itching to be together; she couldn't go up to him and kiss his perfect face whenever she wanted. Carlos couldn't spend all his free time in the paddock with her; it was torture for the two of them.

Carlos had made up his mind, he would be signing with Williams. He saw a future and a very alluring exit clause just the way he wanted. He did mention something to Y/N about it but they didn't talk about racing during their dates.

It was the first day of the summer break, Carlos was laying in bed with Y/N in his arms; "I have an announcement to make" Carlos whispered. "At 9 in the morning" Y/N grumbled. "I'll be announcing which team I'm joining today" he spoke. "Really?" she asked, now wide awake. "yeah. I signed with Williams" he spoke slowly. It took a moment to register for Y/N and then tears prickled her eyes. She wasn't sure they were tears of joy or sorrow. "Congratulations" she croaked, kissing his lips. "I'm sorry about Logan" Carlos apologised squeezing her hips. "It's okay" she smiled weakly. "I'll make a few calls and be right back" he said getting out of bed. The video had been recorded and would be uploaded soon. Y/N was pacing around the house sending a few texts to Logan to check up on him and looking up what the fans had to say. As soon as the news went live, Y/N got a message from her dad; 'Carlos Sainz Jr is your new driver from next year' it read. She had a bitter sweet feeling reading the message.

Carlos came back, done with the initial announcement. "I'll be your engineer next year" Y/N said cupping his cheeks. "Yeah, that was one of my clauses for signing" he said cupping her cheeks too. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked looking into her eyes. "I don't know about mixing business and pleasure" she hesitated. "Just say yes" Carlos begged. "Promise me you won't get hurt" she asked. "I'll try my best" he replied. "Than, Yes" she said leaning in to kiss him, pushing up on her toes to close the distance. "I can't wait to kiss you in public" Carlos stated breaking the kiss. "Let's wait. After the way my dad has been courting you" she laughed. "Well I was trying to court his daughter" he retorted. "And you succeeded" she kissed him again. "Let's enjoy these 3 weeks of peace before we have to return" he said sweeping her off her feet and carrying her bridal style back to the room as she pressed open mouth kisses on his neck.

I've been working on this since the announcement. I had fun writing it. Hope you enjoy too.

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

asked them out properly today btw don't worry guys we got it cleared up

hi tumblr i think i got a girlfriend today not entirely sure though

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 I was a dreamer before you went and let me down

pairing: sirius black x reader

warnings: angst idk, reader is ravenclaw but it’s only mentioned once so it doesn’t matter lmao. also white horse lyrics as the title🗣️🔥

a/n: take this bc i’m writing a long fic rn so this is bad😭🙏

1.6k words ^_^

“Good afternoon, Sirius!” you cheerfully greeted as he and the rest of the Marauders walked by you. He gave you a side glance before facing forward and walking away, not saying anything.

The cheerful smile on your face soon faded. Two months of trying (and failing) to get Sirius to talk to you, let alone agree to go out with you, was starting to get to you.

“What do you want?” Sirius said, not sparing a glance at you.

“Do you maybe want to go to Hogsmeade with me? This weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend, so I thought that you and I could–”

“No.” With that, you quickly shut down, the little confidence you had now gone, your lips turning into a line.

“Alright, well, I’ll be off now. Bye,” you said, trying not to show how embarrassed you were.

Come to think of it, you had done everything you could think of for Sirius to like you back or at least go on one date with you.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” your friend Anne asked, patting your back. She had been there for you since your very first day at Hogwarts. You honestly think you would’ve gone insane without her there with you.

“I’m alright, Anne. I just don’t understand why he won’t even glance at me! I’m not that bad looking, right?”

“Of course not, Y/N! I think it’s about time you get over him! I mean, you said it yourself, he never even glances at you!”

You had thought maybe it was time to get over Sirius. “You’re right! From now onwards, I will get over him.”

“Let’s see how long that lasts,” Anne said, a soft smile appearing on her lips.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It was safe to say that it lasted pretty long. Alright, it had only been a few hours, but still! It was around dinner time, and you had stayed a little longer after class putting away equipment and talking to the professor about the assignment.

Sirius couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. He had done half the homework as he felt too lazy to do the rest. All the pranks were finalized and ready to go, so why he felt like something was missing was confusing him.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It was now morning, and you had woken up feeling better than ever. Not having someone ruin the little confidence you had the night before really does change a person, huh?

Before you realized it, it was already time for breakfast.

That’s when your eyes caught wind of Sirius Black, laughing with his friends. Oh, his smile was always so beautiful to you.

“Y/N, no, you will not go up to him. Remember what you agreed on yesterday?” Anne said, tired of seeing you all sappy over a boy, especially one like Sirius.

“I know, I know, but come on, you can’t blame me! He’s just so… ughh!”

Anne sighed, slapping your arm. “Okay, but we have to walk past them to enter the Great Hall. Don’t spare a glance at him, and don’t even speak to him!”

And you did just that. You honestly thought he wouldn’t notice. How wrong you were. He had noticed; he thought that you were too tired to go up to him last evening, so you’d probably one-up yourself this morning for missing last night.

But how wrong he was. You didn’t even glance at him! He was shocked, to say the least. “Woah, she didn’t speak to you or even look at you! Hey, all that rejecting really worked, good for you,” said James.

Sirius forced a laugh. “Yeah, about time. She was getting annoying.” How he wishes he could take those words back. He knew you heard them but wished you never did.

You frowned. Did he really not like you that much?! Wow. You guess it was a good thing to stop trying to get his attention.

Anne gave you a side hug, hearing what he said himself. “He’s not worth it. Ignore what he said. If I was him, I’d be glad a very beautiful, smart, kind girl was giving me all her attention!” You smiled at that.

“Thanks, Anne, but I can’t believe he thinks that way of me. But I should’ve guessed.”

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It had now been a week. A week of Sirius yearning for your attention. A week since you made an effort of talking to him.

Despite the passing week, Sirius found himself unable to shake off the feeling of regret. He realized how much he had taken your presence for granted and how foolish he had been to dismiss your efforts. The more he thought about it, the more he missed your cheerful greetings and your attempts to engage him in conversation.

What really pushed him over the edge was the new guy you were now so close to. He was completely different from him—more quiet, with light hair, smarter, and, more importantly, actually talked to you and seemed to enjoy your presence.

How could you move on in just a week? Move on with a guy completely different from him?

He saw the way the guy looked at you, how your friends would always ship you two together. It was infuriating to him.

What really set him off was when he saw the soft pink hue on your cheeks. That could’ve been you two if he hadn’t been so stupid! Did he really think you would be like James, who has been chasing the same girl forever? Yes, he did think that.

Turns out you were not like James. You had given up in just two months!

"You’re staring," Remus' voice snapped Sirius out of his trance.

"Huh?" Sirius played dumb, not wanting Remus to know who or what he was staring at.

"You know, you could’ve just said yes the times she actually asked you out. I don’t know why you just rejected her. Didn’t you have a crush on her at one point?" Remus questioned.

"I just... I really don’t know why I never said yes. I thought she’d continue to ask me out at least until the end of this year. It isn’t even the holidays yet!" Sirius replied, feeling agitated.

Remus sighed, his gaze shifting from Sirius to you, who was now engrossed in conversation with the new guy. “Well, mate, sometimes we realize things a little too late. Maybe you should talk to her, explain how you feel.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, a mixture of frustration and longing evident in his eyes. “Do you think it’s too late, Moony? I mean, she seems happy now, and I don’t want to disrupt that.”

“It’s never too late if you genuinely care about someone,” Remus said gently. “But you have to be prepared for any outcome. She might not feel the same way anymore, or she might give you another chance. The important thing is that you’re honest with her and yourself.”

Sirius nodded, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have been and what could still be. “You’re right. I’ll talk to her, no more running away from my feelings.”

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Remus’s words echoed in Sirius’s mind as he watched you and the new guy sharing a laugh. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts before approaching you.

After a while, when you were alone, Sirius walked over, trying to appear casual despite the nervousness bubbling inside him. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, offering a small smile.

You looked up, surprised to see Sirius approaching you. “Hey, Sirius. What’s up?” you replied, returning the smile, though there was a hint of wariness in your eyes.

Sirius hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. “I wanted to talk to you about something… important,” he started, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Your smile faltered slightly, sensing the gravity of the conversation. “Sure, go ahead,” you said, trying to maintain a neutral tone.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius continued, “I know I haven’t been the best lately, and I want to apologize for that. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything, and I realize now that I made a mistake by not appreciating you and your efforts.”

You listened quietly, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. “It’s okay, Sirius. We all have our moments,” you replied, trying to keep your composure.

Sirius shook his head, a flicker of pain crossing his features. “No, it’s not okay. I should have realized sooner how much you mean to me. Seeing you happy with someone else made me realize how much I regret not being there for you when I had the chance.”

Your heart clenched at his words, memories of the morning after flooding back. “Did you really mean what you said that morning, Sirius?” you asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

Sirius’s expression faltered, guilt evident in his eyes. “I… I was being stupid, Y/N. I didn’t know how to handle my feelings, and I said things I regret. Please, let me make it right.”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, feeling a surge of frustration and hurt. “It’s not that easy, Sirius. You can’t just take back everything you said and expect things to go back to how they were.”

Sirius swallowed hard, realizing the depth of his mistake. “I know I messed up, and I don’t expect forgiveness right away. I just needed you to know how I feel.”

The tension between you was palpable as you both grappled with your emotions. “I need time, Sirius,” you finally said, your voice wavering slightly.

Sirius nodded, a pang of regret piercing his heart. “I understand. I’ll give you the time you need, but please know that I’m sincere about wanting to make amends.”

[bambi-kinos]

I have been thinking about this ask since I got it and as to the question of why John treated people the way he did, especially Paul. My take on this situation is that John Lennon was not allowed to grow up by the environment and people he was surrounded by and so he could not envision the future consequences of his actions the way that the average adult can. This with the addition of his constant drug use (which in all likelihood left him with significant brain damage) meant that he could not function the way an adult should.

John actually did have periods of emotional growth where he looked inward, changed, and tried to do better. These moments took place before he got famous, when he was faced with adversity and he rose to meet it.

IMO Hamburg 1960 was such a time. John partied, he found new pills to take, he experimented with kissing and shagging men, he discovered transgender people (and shagged them), and had a lot of ups and downs with his boyfriend(s) and his group. It is easy to dismiss this as mindless hedonism but as a retired hedonist myself (though I never pushed as hard as John did) I will tell you: hedonism can lead to introspection and self knowledge. John really pushed it to its limits and he almost lost Paul because of it but I think the Great Unknown that happened in Hamburg pushed John to actively change. He cleaned himself up a bit especially once Stuart left to be with Astrid. Once he came back to Liverpool (after enduring the trauma of his bandmates being ripped from him, yet another violent separation that no doubt would have left him in an emotional tailspin) he rested, hooked up with Cynthia, and then went looking for Paul knowing that he needed him to make this band thing work. Like, John spent a few weeks in his bedroom not speaking to anyone once he went home. He didn't want to be seen, he wanted to sleep and eat hot food, and think. He was considering whether he should continue with the band or not, if this was really worth it. Which implies there was a precarious moment where John was thinking of just ending The Beatles. He decided that the plan still had merit, ran into George, and then went to fetch Paul. A few months of light groveling and nagging later, Paul was his again. John committed to The Beatles and therefore committed to Paul. Paris was the culmination of this change and John's reward for putting in the work, and from what we can gather, Paul made every inch worth John's while.

The Beatlemania years leading up to Sgt. Pepper and psychedelia. This was period is more like 1961-1965 Shea Stadium. From here it was an upward climb and subsequently the most intense period of his relationship with Paul. I don't think this was just youthful enthusiasm and the flush of a new relationship, I think John was learning and growing as a person thanks to this adversity. He bonded even closer to Paul which resulted in their intimacy deepening; John's songwriting matured and culminated in "Ticket to Ride" which is a brutal self evaluation of his own faults and how he drives his loved ones away from him. You don't write a song like "Ticket to Ride" because you have no idea what it's like for your lover to get fed up with your moodiness and leave you. John was much more self aware than he's given credit for. This continued onward, them thinking they've reached the summit only to find there's a new height to climb. John said something to the effect of "I saw the top of the mountain" as a result of the first Shea concert. (They would do a second Shea concert in 1966.) That was when he realized that The Beatles were it and that they were not vacating the number one spot any time soon. What else was there to strive for?

And I think after that, a lot of John's emotional development kind of...stopped. Or was held up. Or slowed down to a snail's pace, whichever you prefer. The LSD had a hand in this, tripping constantly takes a lot out of you. Yesterday played its part, John emotionally retreated out of fear of losing Paul (which of course ensured that he lost Paul forever). Success becomes your enemy sometimes; John had so much success that he no longer had to face adversity, no longer had to grow because everything he wanted was on tap. As someone somewhere said, fame ruined the Beatles in this way.

That's the crux of it, I think. He just stopped maturing. It was childish the way he slagged off Paul -- not just Paul but other people as well. Sean said that John spent the rest of his life apologizing to everyone he ran into because of Lennon Remembers, which implies he burned a lot of bridges with that one. John had a habit of doing that and his fame as a Beatle enabled him to do it without consequences. No one was willing to stand up to him so he didn't get to learn a pattern of "don't do this or else this will happen." He was mentally damaged from his drug usage and I also wonder if he had a genuine learning disability of some kind because he simply could not make the connection between cause/effect: "If I do X then Y might happen so I shouldn't do X." His mother was not a drug user like John but she exhibited many of the same behaviors he did. Namely the "inability to visualize consequences" thing.

John did care about Paul, especially when it was starting out. I think the love was pure then because his mental aesthetic of who and what Paul was had not yet been distorted. John knew who Paul was, he knew who John Lennon was, they were in love and everything was possible.

But then John's untreated mental illness begins to take its toll, he's self medicating with drugs which does more harm than good, his mental aesthetic of Paul distorts more and more because Paul will not let him in. The media did this to John too, all of them reporting on how cool Paul was and how amazing Yesterday is and John is shitting himself internally because he can feel the split already forming between them musically. John is unable to stop himself from manipulating Paul in response, which is a bad move because Paul is the ultimate contrarian and bolts in response. Which sends John into deeper panic etc. And oh yes, the entire world is watching them while this happens and nitpicking their every move. We live in the age of social media, we know what this is like.

Over time that love became mixed in with anger and resentment. John could not tell fantasy from reality. He did what he always does and he imagined something, tricked himself into believing it, and then got mad about something that didn't exist. If he did reach out to Paul then Paul responded badly, which understandably devastated John's feelings.

When you show someone your real feelings and they dismiss you or trivialize your vulnerability because they want to Win At Being Right...your relationship crumbles with that person. A common bug in Paul's relationships is that he needs to Win At Being Right even at the expense of people loving him. We don't know this for sure but I'm convinced he did this to John plenty of times. Frankly, a relationship cannot survive that behavior. Lack of mutual respect kills marriages all the time. I absolutely believe that Paul disrespected John and trivialized his feelings (even if by accident) and that this caused John to become bitter over time since Paul took him for granted. Who wouldn't become bitter under those circumstances?

This is how they got into the "fuck you/no, please, fuck you/no no no fuck YOU/I absolutely insist, you must go fuck yourself" cycle. Which John really just expanded on during the 1970s with his bitching about Paul, it was just another level of the "fuck you bitch" cycle that started between them with Yesterday. And John's immaturity and brain damage from drug usage and his inability to understand consequences meant that he didn't fully comprehend what he was doing. He didn't want to think that Paul was vulnerable because Paul had rejected John's vulnerability. He didn't want to imagine he was hurting Paul deeply because Paul had hurt him deeply. He wanted revenge on Paul more than he wanted to keep his relationship with Paul because he thought Paul wouldn't be too damaged by it. I think John had gotten comfortable with the idea that no matter what he threw at Paul, Paul would not only survive it but that he'd rub John's face in it. I don't think John ever considered the idea that he could actually succeed in what he was doing, he never imagined that he would actually win the argument and that he would damage Paul's image and John's relationship with Paul forever. That sense of "I'll lose no matter what" enabled him to act out however he wanted because it wasn't like any of it would matter anyway, right? Paul can survive anything. He's invincible.

Right?

John did love Paul, I believe that. I think he loved Paul deeply and sincerely. I think if he actually understood what Paul was thinking and feeling then John would have changed tactics immediately or even stopped what he was doing. But John's drug usage, years of slights and disrespect from Paul, being unable to visualize consequences, and immaturity caused him to act out in a childish way. He stopped listening to Paul and started listening to his resentments and grudges. Lashing out at Paul was the only outlet he had and John didn't know how to do anything else. He had no incentive to learn otherwise and grow up, deal with Paul on adult terms.

Funnily enough I think it's actually losing George that finally set something into motion inside John. Like, George cut John off, an extremely big deal. In my neck of the woods its called "severing" and its probably the most difficult thing you can possibly do with any sort of relationship. George ignored John; he cut John out of his autobiography; he stopped talking to John; he did not mention him in public. He knew this was the most brutal punishment he could devise for John Lennon and it worked. John wrote "lost" by George's name in the word association game. John went too far bitching about Bob Dylan and not apologizing for hanging George out to dry. George had enough and did the right thing. He severed his relationship with John because John was toxic and dragged George down. Of all the people in John's life, George is the one who willingly served consequences to John when he was surrounded by enablers and errand boys.

That, more than anything, seems to be what set John on the back foot. I sincerely believe that George cutting him off forced John to do some introspection and that is part of what he was doing in the Dakota after Sean was born. Asking himself what he did to make George cut him off; and then John slowly started to grow and mature again. Because you see, George provided what Paul couldn't: he gave John adversity to meet, which forced John to grow as a person. And so we got the song "Woman" which is not just about the women in John's life but is also a letter to all the people he hurt with his thoughtlessness and immaturity, where he finally starts taking responsibility for his actions:

I can hardly express, My mixed emotion at my thoughtlessness, After all I'm forever in your debt,

I will try to express, My inner feelings and thankfulness, For showing me the meaning of success,

hold me close to your heart, However distant don't keep us apart, After all it is written in the stars,

please let me explain, I never meant to cause you sorrow or pain, So let me tell you again and again and again,

It's on par with "Ticket to Ride" and "I Know, I Know" in John showing introspection and discussing his own flaws. Something that he notably was not doing during his peak "fuck you Paul" era.

John loved Paul but also resented him due to their circumstances. He wanted to hurt Paul but didn't think he could actually do so because his mental aesthetic of Paul was so viciously distorted. He dehumanized Paul by putting him on a pedestal, made him an object John could degrade at a moment's notice to make himself feel better. You can do that to objects without consequences; when you do it to people, you get pushback.

Losing George and Paul keeping him at a distance for years is what made John finally realize that he had hurt them and that he could hurt them to the point that he would never see them again. It took years of self examination for John to come to this realization which indicates how disordered and muddy his thinking was.

[grimmooree]

Barley Lightfoot from Disney-Pixar Onwards sketch board pt. 3

I was working on the lower right most sketch yesterday. Had to practice some more, especially on his smile since I am not quite satisfied yet with how I draw Barley. Off to make some more!

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: traumatized steve & eddie going to a wolf sanctuary and eddie watching steve basically live with the wolves in their area. And the one wolf,the one that hated everyone, the one who meaner and didn't get along with anyone to its cruel abusive situation (perhaps it was raised from puppyhood and onwards by people who used it in dogfighting, before it was rescued, that wolf, goes right up to Steve and sits by him. Giving him comfort. When Steve has bad nightmares he goes to that wolf's pen and they sleep cuddled together bc that wolf also has nightmares. (It can also be a wolfdog)

AS ALWAYS YOU COME THROUGH WITH SOMETHING FUN AND CREATIVE AND AS ALWAYS I MAKE IT EMOTIONAL AS SHIT!!! I was feelin' some type of way yesterday and started on this at peak emotional upheaval, which is really something I don't recommend. As many things tend to do, this got away from me and I think I could've still let it keep going, but I had to cut it off. Hope you love it!!! - Mickala ❤️

-----------------------------------------------

It was Robin’s idea.

She knew therapy wasn’t working. She knew firsthand that the nightmares, especially Steve’s, were impossible to handle some nights.

She stayed with him enough after the Russians to know he was averaging four hours of restless sleep on a good night.

And now that he’d seen the horrors of the Upside Down, and Eddie almost dying, and Max almost dying, and the guilt of just existing, they were worse.

Eddie had them, but he was usually able to calm down relatively quickly, usually even fall back into a dreamless sleep after.

His problem was just seeing the bats everywhere, even when he was awake. A large bird would fly by and he was ducking for cover like a bomb would be dropped on him. He’d hear screeching, sometimes even just kids yelling at the park, and he’d have a panic attack.

Drastically different problems, but Robin said this could help with both of them.

So Steve and Eddie stood outside the wolf sanctuary, staring at the front office entrance where they were told to check in.

They glanced at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

It’s not that they were scared. They’d been told about the process on the phone in great detail, the sanctuary director answering all of their questions in a friendly tone.

She’d said that the wolf sanctuary had been used as a form of therapy for people for years now, though many psychiatrists didn’t consider it an appropriate treatment.

Considering Steve and Eddie had been seeing a professional psychiatrist for months now with no progress and serious weight loss and migraines from their prescriptions, they were willing to give this a fair shot.

But their fear that it wouldn’t work kept circling through their minds.

If this didn’t work, they weren’t sure what else they could possibly try.

That was terrifying.

They were supposed to stay for a month, with the option of extending the stay if they felt they needed it.

It was expensive.

But this was on the US government, and Eddie was always quick to spend their money for his benefit.

Steve was just along for the ride.

They walked in together, both nervously looking around at the chairs and desks, bookshelves, pictures of wolves and mountains on the walls, and one small, gray-haired woman at the front desk.

“Oh, aren’t you two precious! Which one’s Steve and which one’s Eddie?”

“I’m Steve,” Eddie smirked as he held out his hand.

Steve smacked his arm.

“He’s Eddie, and he’s probably gonna be this way the whole time. Sorry in advance,” Steve told the woman.

“This is wonderful! You’ll be fun to have around. I’m Fran, I run the front office. I spoke to you the other day on the phone a bit about the check in. Are you boys ready?”

They both nodded.

She clapped her hands together in excitement.

Steve could tell Eddie loved her. She was full of theatrics like he was, every word punctuated by an exaggerated movement.

“First, the boring part. We did some of the first part over the phone, but these packets need to be filled out completely and given back to me. You can have a seat anywhere to do those. When that’s done, I’ll show you where to bring your bags so you can unpack and get comfortable. We can do a tour before dinner.”

She placed the packets on the desk in front of her, then took two pens out of a mug and placed them down too.

“If you have any questions, let me know. You two are just the cutest!”

She walked through a small doorway a few feet behind her desk and they grabbed the packets to start filling them out.

The first page was basic personal information, which had been filled out already. The second page was emergency contact information and how they were referred. But the third page is where it got difficult.

It has questions like “What is your worst memory?” and “Who is the person you would most expect to protect you in a life or death situation? Why?”

And while Eddie and Steve could probably answer those easily from terrible experiences, there was a lot they weren’t allowed to say.

So they just stuck with the official government stories for any and all Upside Down related parts, which was most of them.

Fran bustled back in, two steaming mugs in her hands. She set them on her desk carefully and then walked over to where Eddie was sitting.

“How’s it going?”

“Good. Almost done,” he smiled up at her.

“And you, dear?” She asked Steve.

“Good. I’m sorry I write kind of slow.”

Steve’s face was red, like he was embarrassed. Eddie watched as he focused on the paper in front of him, his hand moving slowly across the paper.

Steve’s concussions had a lot of lasting effects; migraines and one ear that was barely working, the occasional speech delay, and an inconvenient struggle with writing, especially if it was answering questions about himself like this.

Eddie distracted Fran as he wrote his last answer, talking to her about her favorite part of the sanctuary and how long she’s been working here.

He handed the packet to her when he was done, glancing over at Steve to see he was just starting on the last page.

“Hey, Fran, would it be okay if you helped me get our bags from the car while Steve finishes up?”

Steve sent him a grateful smile as he continued answering the questions on the paper.

As he walked with Fran to the car, she touched his arm.

“He’s got a lot going on, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. He’s been dealing with this a lot longer than I have,” Eddie smiled sadly at her, touching her hand to accept the comfort she was giving and give some in return. “I hope this works for both of us, but I’d be happy as long as it works for him.”

“You care a lot about him.”

It wasn’t a question, and her tone wasn’t judging, but Eddie could just tell. He should panic, he should tell her it wasn’t like that. And it wasn’t for Steve.

But he’d been hiding it for so long, and somehow successfully, he couldn’t lie to her.

“I love him. He doesn’t know how much. I did this for him, mostly. I mean I want it to help me too, but I know he wouldn’t have tried this if I didn’t come and he,” Eddie sighed. “He needs this. He can’t keep going like he has been.”

Fran pulled him into a hug and he did all he could not to start crying.

“He’s lucky to have you on his side no matter what, darling. And I’d bet anything he thinks the same of you,” she said softly.

“I don’t think it’s quite the same. He loves me like a friend, but he’s not…not like me.”

Gay. He wasn’t gay. Or even a little into men. Eddie was sure of that.

Fran pulled away and just smiled at him.

“Okay, then. Let’s get these bags inside.”

They managed to bring everything in in one trip, and by the time they made it back inside, Steve was done with his packet.

“Alright!” Fran clapped her hands together in excitement. “To your room!”

Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Room? Like, just one?”

“Yep! The other room we have for long-term residents is already taken for the next few weeks. Will that be okay?”

She was smiling innocently at Eddie, who knew she knew why he was suddenly panicking.

“That’s fine. We end up sharing a room all the time, right, Eds?” Steve asked as he grabbed his own bags from the floor.

“Uh. Yep. Totally fine.”

“Great!”

She led them out the back of the front office, down the sidewalk that led to a row of small buildings.

“This first building is storage. The next one is the short-term stays, usually people who donate frequently to keep us running, staying for a night or two to see where their money goes. This next building is for long-term stays. That’s you two. It’s split into a duplex, so you’ll have basically a studio apartment in there. Kitchen, bathroom, living area with a sectioned off area as the bedroom. You each will have a key, but keep in mind that the director also has a key for emergencies. The janitorial staff only goes if requested, so let me know if you feel it needs a sprucing up or you need new sheets or anything. Fridge is stocked and gets restocked every two weeks.” She paused as they made it to the steps to the building. “Oh! We don’t technically have a curfew for the guests. You’re adults and we trust you on your journey here. But we do ask that you try to be back no later than 11, as we often shut off many of the trail lights by midnight to ensure the animals have the closest replica of the wild as possible.”

Steve and Eddie nodded, eyes wide at all the information being thrown at them so quickly.

“Your room has a phone of course. You’re free to use as often as you’d like. Pressing 1 gets you in touch with the front office, 2 is for security, 3 is for the director’s office. I recommend calling the front office unless it’s an emergency so we can get in touch with the right people for you. After your tour, you’ll have free reign over the entire sanctuary except for anywhere marked employees and volunteers only. That’s for your safety, of course. We encourage you to be a part of some of the educational tours and seminars that we offer to the general public as well as enjoy time on your own with the wolves. Volunteers are here every day from 9 to 5, and the employees who help care for the wolves stay until 11. We have security here 24/7, but the director usually has a couple people on staff remain after regular hours in case of an animal emergency.”

This felt a little overwhelming, but he could already tell Steve was more relaxed here than he’d been anywhere else since he met him.

“I work when they need me, but my home number is by the phone in there for you just in case you need a chat. I retired a couple years ago so I spend a lot of my time at home with my dog. You’re never a bother, okay?”

They both nodded.

She hugged them both, handed them their keys, and started to walk away.

“Your tour will be in about an hour. James is running it today. You’ll love him!”

She was gone before they could even respond, so they looked back to each other and shrugged before heading inside.

The main door was unlocked, but the door inside marked with a “2” was locked. Steve unlocked it and pushed the door open.

The apartment was nice, but small, smaller than either of them had expected.

“Guess we’ll be getting pretty close for the next month, huh?” Steve joked.

Eddie’s heart was in his throat.

He could see the “bedroom” from where he stood. It was one queen sized bed. One.

“Um. Yep. Guess so. I can take the couch,” Eddie rushed out.

Steve clearly hadn’t seen the sleeping arrangement yet or he would have probably offered. He’s a self-sacrificing idiot, so Eddie had to rush to offer before he could.

“What? Why?”

Eddie gestured towards the bed.

“There’s plenty of room for both of us, dude. A month on the couch isn’t exactly gonna help with the nightmares.”

“It looks pretty cozy.”

Steve just stared at him, brows raised like Eddie was an idiot.

He was an idiot, but he didn’t need Steve thinking it.

“Eddie. Seriously. We can share a bed.”

Steve wouldn’t let him win, it’s just not who Steve was.

“Okay, okay! Let’s just unpack so we can go see some wolves or whatever.”

They unpacked in silence, Steve taking the spot closest to the door without Eddie having a choice.

Self-sacrificing idiot.

—--------------

James knocked on their door at exactly 4:00, like he’d been standing there waiting for the clock to change over from 3:59.

“Hello! I’m James. You’re Steve and Eddie?”

They all shook hands and James started explaining things quickly.

James was only a bit older than them, wearing a volunteer shirt that had seen better days, and had the energy of Dustin.

“So! I’m gonna show you the lay of the land, you can ask me questions, I can try to answer them, and then I can drop you off back here so you can eat. The first night can be a bit of an adjustment, so feel free to give me a call if you have trouble. My number is under Fran’s,” James spoke rapid-fire, but not so fast they couldn’t keep up. They were used to that, anyway.

“So to start, everything you guys really need is along this main trail.” He pointed the way they came earlier and then the other direction. “That way leads to our nutrition area for the wolves, which you are welcome to visit anytime during the day to help or feed some of the rehabilitated wolves in the building nextdoor which is the hospital. The hospital is only open to the guests staying here and employees from 12-5, just because much of the mornings are spent performing surgeries or checkups. You’re encouraged to spend time with any of the wolves there in recovery as it helps their spirits much like a person. But if you take the left at the fork in this trail, you’ll be led to other trails. The first one is the wolf enclosures, which I’m taking you to now.” He kept walking as he spoke, moving his hands constantly, big smile keeping Eddie and Steve enthralled.

“We have one specifically for the ones we’ve rescued who are still healing from injuries, and that one is off limits to everyone between dusk and dawn. Many of these wolves are relearning how to be wild and part of that is using the night to hunt. Being in their cage during those times could be dangerous. They wouldn’t necessarily eat you,” he paused to laugh. “But they may take a bite. Now! The second enclosure is where we keep Herald. You can laugh at his name.” Eddie let out a small laugh.

“Herald had a rough upbringing. He was rescued about six months ago from a traveling circus that had abused him for at least a few years. We think he’s about 5 years old, but can’t be 100% certain. He’s hesitant around all people, even the director. He can be very unpredictable, so only the director, vet, and head nutritionist are allowed in there. You’re welcome to visit from the outside anytime you’d like though! He’s shy, but it can’t hurt having people talk to him.”

James was walking pretty quickly, and if Steve wasn’t so in shape, he’d be struggling. He looked over at Eddie. Eddie was struggling a little, but didn’t want to stop or slow down.

“And the last enclosure is for the rest of the wolves. These are ones that may be reintroduced to the wild soon or who may have been rescued without injuries, but just aren’t ready to go yet. This enclosure has a few areas for public access. The first being the feeding area, the second being the petting area. The petting area is only able to be accessed when employees or volunteers are present. The third area is only for guests staying long term such as yourselves.”

James walked them through a gate off to the side of the enclosure.

“This area is my favorite in the whole sanctuary. It’s their den area. It’s not recommended to come alone, and you should always go to the petting area to meet them first, but this area is nice for anyone who wants to feel like a part of the pack.”

“We can go in there?”

“Again, it’s definitely recommended to meet the wolves in the petting area first, maybe feed them a few times to show them you’re a friend, but yes.”

“Huh.”

Eddie watched Steve’s reaction.

This was much more involved than they expected to be.

“So that’s the enclosures! The next part of this trail leads to a walking and biking trail that is a great way to see some nature without having to leave the area. It’s snake season, though, so make sure you know your snake safety beforehand and bring the provided whistle with you in case of an emergency. Volunteers and employees are always within hearing distance during normal hours and can usually respond within 3-4 minutes.”

“Could we go back to Herald?”

Eddie’s head snapped to Steve, who was looking at James with a kind smile.

“Oh. Well, sure. The only other thing I needed to show you was the trail leading to the lake, but we can go back after.”

So James backtracked, Steve and Eddie close on his heels.

They got to the enclosure with Herald, but didn’t see him.

“He likes to hide. Especially if it isn’t close to meal time, he doesn’t usually come close to the fence. His den is hidden away.”

Steve kept walking up to the fence as James spoke, Eddie watching and trying to figure out what was going on.

“Herald? You there?” Steve called gently into the fence. Wolves had excellent hearing, and he’d probably already heard them approach. “You can come say hi if you want to.”

Eddie stood next to Steve, looking out at the area in the enclosure. There was a good mix of forest and empty area, with plenty of things that were probably used as toys scattered around. He watched for any sign of movement, listened for any trotting over.

Nothing.

Steve looked incredibly disappointed, but James walked closer and gave them both a smile.

“Like I said, Herald isn’t very social and it’s nothing personal. He doesn’t even seem to like the director and all the wolves love her.”

But Eddie knew Steve. He knew that he wasn’t gonna let that shit go.

“Alright! Shall we head to the trail by the lake?”

Eddie watched as Steve sighed, but nodded.

—--------------

Steve cooked them dinner that evening, said it helped him relax and that he would feel more at home if he got into a routine.

Eddie wouldn’t complain; He loved Steve’s cooking.

He made a basic spaghetti dish, even toasted some bread and sprinkled some garlic powder on it to make garlic bread.

They sat at the small table by the front door and ate in silence.

“It’s really quiet here.”

Eddie looked up to see Steve staring down at his plate, biting his lip nervously.

“It’s kind of nice though. Peaceful.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie knew what he was worried about.

He was worried the silence would make him have more nightmares instead of less, that he’d be left with nothing to help him if this failed.

“Hey,” Eddie reached over and patted Steve’s hand that rested on the table. “I’m here, alright? You won’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, only slightly relaxing back into his seat.

—--------------

The next day was relaxed.

They walked along the main trail after breakfast, happy to see Fran again and meet some new people.

They stopped at Herald’s enclosure, but still didn’t see or hear him.

Steve was disappointed, but it was hidden away when they were able to feed and pet some of the other wolves before lunch.

The wolves were all beautiful, clearly well taken care of, and even the ones still in recovery were cleaned, well-fed, and cared for by the team.

Eddie quickly had a favorite: Mabel. She was an “old woman” as the employee at the feeding area said. She was 12 years old, had been brought in from the side of the road after being hit. She had had a broken leg and many broken ribs, along with cuts that needed stitches. Not the worst they’d seen, but due to her being nearly 11 at the time, they didn’t expect her to pull through. She did though, and had quickly become known as the leader of the group. All the wolves respected her, it was clear even to Eddie and Steve. She was the first to the feeding area, the first to the petting area, and would often stand guard over the others as they went into the shared spaces.

She was light brown with gray speckled throughout, her scars visible, but mostly covered with hair.

Steve loved Mabel, too, but he still had his heart set on Herald.

Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew why Steve was so fixated on him.

Someone who was abused and hidden away and expected to perform every day for crowds of people? Yeah, Steve and Herald had quite a bit in common.

He just didn’t want him to get his hopes up for nothing.

After lunch, they decided to walk over to the nutrition center, maybe learn something new.

It was educational, and fun, and Eddie said multiple times how much he wished actual school had been like this.

The nutritionists let them help set up all the wolves’ dinners, showing them portion sizes for each of the wolves, telling them what the wolves’ favorites were. How they celebrated birthdays for them.

It was fun. Steve even cracked some smiles throughout.

—--------------

That night was rough.

Steve had fallen asleep quickly, much to Eddie’s delight, but it didn’t last long.

Eddie was woken up not long after he fell asleep by whimpering. He glanced at the alarm clock by the bed. 10:38. Barely an hour.

He knew from experience that waking Steve up would just make things worse for him, so he gently set his hand on Steve’s side, the best support he could give right now.

It physically pained Eddie to watch Steve’s face tighten in fear and sadness, whatever his nightmare was this time painting a horrifying picture he couldn’t escape.

Steve had mentioned once that his worst nightmares weren’t even about reliving anything that happened. They weren’t anyone dying, though he had those too. They weren’t even him dying.

They were everyone turning on him, finally seeing he wasn’t worth their time or effort, leaving him alone in that big empty house just like his parents did. He said the worst part was when Robin and Eddie left in the nightmare. When they looked at him with disgust and said he wasn’t good enough for the kids, and he damn sure wasn’t good enough for them.

No matter how many times they told him that would never be true, he still had them.

Ten minutes went by, agonizingly slowly, tears falling down Steve’s face. Eddie was whispering words of comfort, hoping that somehow Steve could hear him, but knowing he probably couldn’t.

But finally, Steve’s eyes opened, the whimpering stopped, and he was no longer hearing and seeing what hurt him the most.

He sat up and wiped his eyes, but the tears kept coming and his breathing was still labored.

Eddie sat up with him, hand on his arm, thumb rubbing back and forth to keep him present.

“I think I need to walk it off,” Steve said, voice wet with tears still to come.

“Okay. Do you want me to come with you?”

Steve shook his head.

“No, go back to sleep. I’ll only be out for a few minutes.”

And as much as Eddie knew that was a lie, and knew he should probably go with Steve, he had to trust him.

He’d be safe. He had to be.

—--------------

Steve walked aimlessly up and down the main trail for 10 minutes, trying to breathe in the fresh air, focus on his surroundings.

It wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped, but it was better than staying in bed and letting Eddie see him like this.

Eddie was too kind, always. He was bright, like the sun and the stars and the moon on a clear night. He was everything. And if Steve let himself be too vulnerable, too much, Eddie would take that light.

He lost track of where he was going, his breaths coming in sharper pants now as he let more tears fall.

A noise made him freeze.

Leaves rustling.

He looked up to see Herald’s enclosure in front of him. And…

Herald.

Herald was huge, much bigger than any of the other wolves they’d seen so far. He was beautiful. Scars along his legs showing that he had��been abused awfully before coming here, but the rest of him glowed with health. He was standing about eight feet from the fence, trying to hide some of his body still behind the bushes along the forest line.

Steve slowly made his way to the fence, his hands up to show he wasn’t going to cause any harm.

Herald didn’t come closer, but he didn’t back or run away either.

Steve counted that as a win.

He instantly slumped to the ground at the fence, his hands and head resting against the chain links like they were the only thing keeping him upright. Maybe they were.

Steve closed his eyes.

He was so focused on staying calm, he couldn’t hear Herald approach. But he suddenly felt a cold, wet nose against his head.

He didn’t panic, he didn’t want to scare Herald, but he realized suddenly that his fingers were very much easily accessed by sharp teeth.

He let Herald sniff him, then slowly looked up.

Herald was tilting his head at him, almost as if he was asking if he was okay.

That made Steve sob.

Herald jumped slightly, but then moved so he was completely against the fence, laying down so his warm body could be against Steve’s.

Steve slowly let his hands fall, reaching through the fence slowly to let them rest in Herald’s fur.

He felt the wolf sigh, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I get it. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone care, huh? You’re so soft,” Steve whispered, knowing Herald was still not completely relaxed around him.

“You tired?”

Steve felt a little silly for asking a wolf a question, but he felt even sillier when he realized Herald had just moved his head up and down. It was probably a coincidence, but the timing was crazy.

“Me too. We should get some sleep.”

Herald huffed and rolled his head back against the fence.

“Want me to stay?”

Herald huffed again.

“Okay.”

So Steve stayed.

He sat down on the ground, back against the fence, and listened to the crickets and the steady breaths of Herald.

He was woken up by Eddie shaking him and a growl coming from behind him.

“Steve! Jesus, I thought you’d got lost or died or something.”

“How long have I been out here?”

“It’s nearly two in the morning!”

Herald was growling behind him, protectively pacing behind Steve like he would find a way to get through the fence if Eddie tried to hurt him.

“Hey, Herald, it’s okay. This is Eddie. He’s here with me. He’s my friend,” Steve said calmly, holding his hand through the fence so Herald could sniff him and see he was okay.

“Steve! Get your hand out of there. He isn’t friendly, remember?”

“Oh, please. He just slept by me for hours and let me hold his fur like he was a stuffed animal. He’s plenty friendly.”

Eddie just stared, jaw slack, as he realized Steve was right.

Herald was licking Steve’s hand, leaving his scent on him like he was trying to provide as much protection as possible.

“You made friends with the only wolf here who hates people. Unbelievable.”

“Hey, be nice. He just needs some love is all.”

Eddie nodded. Yeah, him and another person with a name that started with S and rhymed with sleeve.

Eddie’s heart had been racing for the last 15 minutes since he woke up and realized Steve wasn’t in bed next to him or anywhere in the apartment.

He finally took a deep breath, balling his shaking hands into fists and stuffing them into the pocket of his hoodie.

“We should head back inside, Stevie.”

Steve seemed to notice Eddie wasn’t doing so great.

“I’m alright, Eds. Hey, look at me.” Eddie looked at Steve’s face, the way he seemed more relaxed than when he first left after his nightmare. “I’m okay. I must have fallen asleep.”

Eddie took a deep breath, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder as he let it out.

“I thought you were gone.”

“Nah, you can’t get rid of me now.”

“No?”

“Nope. Herald and I are just good friends, but you’re still-” Steve cut himself off, but Eddie wasn’t going to let that pass.

“What?”

“Nothing. Not important.”

“Yeah it is. Tell me.”

Steve seemed nervous, and Herald must have sensed it because he let out a low growl.

“It’s just that you mean a lot to me. Kind of everything, actually.”

Eddie couldn’t breathe.

What did that even mean?

Steve’s hand was suddenly in his hair, playing with the ends the way Eddie did when he was nervous.

“You’re just. I mean, how could you not mean the world to me? You dropped everything to come here with me because you knew I wouldn’t do it alone, Eds. You bring me candy at work even though I literally have access to all the candy I want at the counter. You let me find reasons not to watch the scary movies on movie nights when Dustin picks because you know I can’t handle them. You swim in the pool with me alone so no one knows how much I still hate it. I…you’re just…”

Eddie didn’t let him stutter any more, knowing what he was saying without actually saying it.

He knew what Steve was afraid of, and he wasn’t going to let him be scared anymore.

“Steve. I love you. That’s why I do all that. I love you. I’m in love with you. You deserve more than what I can give, but I can keep giving you all of the love I have, and hopefully that will be enough.”

Steve’s lips were on his before he finished speaking, teeth clacking together at the force of it.

Herald huffed, but they didn’t stop. Eddie didn’t know how he was supposed to now that he had Steve’s lips on his.

He never wanted them gone.

His hands reached up to Steve’s neck, cradling his jaw between them as if he was holding something precious. He was.

“I love you so much,” Steve said against his lips, melting against Eddie.

“I love you, Stevie,” Eddie said back. He planted another soft kiss to his lips before resting their foreheads together. “Let’s go back to bed, okay? We can come see Herald after breakfast.”

Steve nodded and turned to Herald.

“I’ll be back. Don’t hide from me, okay?”

He reached in to give Herald’s head a scratch, and Eddie shook his head in disbelief.

It took less than 48 hours for Steve to have the one wolf in this sanctuary who didn’t like people completely wrapped around his finger.

But Eddie could relate.

Steve’s charm was damn near impossible to resist and now he didn’t have to try.

[yandere-wishes]

𝟙:𝟘𝟘 𝕒𝕞 Dottore x reader

Synopsis: Dottore isn't the best at words, especially when it's past midnight and you both have an assignment due first thing in the morning. Yet as the clock tics onwards, he grows a bit bolder. 

Notes: I'm trying a new writing style so please let me know what you think. 

Editor: The wonderful @tealyjade-libran

💙🔹💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹

There's blood on his hands again. Just like yesterday and the day before that. Limp body drowning in a sea of half-done lab reports, and suicide notes, and love letters. Desperate words scribbled on warn notepads come to life to haunt him. 

The dorm light overhead scorches his eyes. He thinks it's divine punishment on the utmost microscopic level. He feels so sick of playing mortal. So sick of the Akademiya that treats them like feeble rats.

 and still, he calls it home, 

Dottore's gaze lingers on your hunched figure. Matted hair and clouded eyes. Scrawling away at another assignment that's due upon first bell. 

There's an unspeakable fatigue that lays heavily on your bones. Something that neither sleep nor furlough will fix. 

You're tired

So is he. 

1:30  am

There’s blood under his fingernails from clawing away at beakers and graduated cylinders. Desperate to have something to show, when morning comes. Something cohesive enough that his dreaded professors may finally see that his frantic hypotheses hold some bearings. 

your wry eyes stare at him like he's an archon, a primordial deity. Like he's death frozen in a prison overrun with blooming life and wildflowers 

The desk you two share is a mess. Border blurred between medical science and sociology. Where does the human body end and the mind begin? Where does logic decay and love take over? 

What's the purpose of a heart anyway?

To sustain or to guide?

He wonders if you love him.

He doubts it.  

2:15 am 

There's blood slipping from between the cracks in his flesh. 

You cradle his palm in your hand. Wrapping a cloth around the wound. 

He wonders if you could do the same for the lacerations he hides behind sharp comments and blood-red eyes. When you touch him so tenderly he remembers he has a name, a body, a soul. 

He remembers he's not just rogue fragments of past lives haunting a walking husk. He's Zandik, he's Dottore, he's everything you need him to be. 

He tries to kiss you. 

You turn away. 

2:55 am 

there's blood slithering down his lips, his chin, his throat.

You grasp at his heart, molding the darkness in your likeness. To him you are light. Not that he's seen the sun in days. 

"You're beautiful" he mutters, hoping you hear him as you lay on the bathroom floor. 

Ice-cold water sprinkles along his flesh as he tries to wash away the blood, the stress,  the stubborn ache caught between his muscles. 

This is intimacy, right? Not quite love, but a speck more than friendship. 

You laugh at him from behind the blue shower curtain. A haunted, hollow noise. "Beauty doesn't matter much around here" you replied as you hand him his towel. 

You switch places. Cold showers keep the sleep away. Or so you've heard. 

"You're beautiful" you call after him.

Dottore thinks he hears you say something. Or maybe it's all the memorized data finally getting to him.

3:30 am

There's blood on his lips as he kisses you.

He wonders what you see him as.

A lover or a killer.

It's late and there are too many emotions to keep track of. 

So you kiss, the final solution to an otherwise unsolvable query.

Deep and desperate. Teeth clashing and hearts melting as you both hopelessly search for the answer to all your woes.

Dottore leans down to kiss you again, he tastes of dying stars and burning metal.

somewhere a santoor plays a lone tune. Haunting the dormitory halls. 

Dottore watches as you dance. Some botched replica of your eon-long traditions. He thinks it's funny how you're the prettiest girl in Teyvat. He thinks it's funny how he's the most monstrous thing to crawl out of the abyss. 

You kiss again. This time with precise calculations and perfect time. 

'I love you'

you both long to say.

4:00 am 

There’s blood on his tongue, in his mouth, in his lungs. All he can think of is how much he needs you. How much he wants you. 

There are so many pieces of you that he's been preserving inside himself. 

Enjoying the sensation of glass entering skin as he impales himself with your shards.

Your fingers tangle in his hair. Tugging to try and make him feel your pain. 

The Akadimiya is no place for love, you think as Dottore kisses the veins on your arm. Do you want him or do you need him?

There's still a lab report on the effect of neurological suppressants on vision wielders to complete. 

There's still a four-page essay on the effect of broken cultural ties on Sumeru's populace to complete.

4:30 pm 

there's blood on your dormitory floor. Pristine royal red and something more. Yasmin is the first to find it and you wonder if that makes all the difference in the world. You beg her to stay silent and she's too scared to decline. The pool of maroon evidence of some sort of love declared between two exhausted university students. 

You like to think of it as a promise ring. 

You can't deny Dottore of anything. Be it love or anything else, not in the mornings when you're semi-lucid and definitely not at night when you're too muddled to care about anything. 

Dottore is destined for misery, not enlightenment. Knowing this you'll be sure to let him drag you down if he so desires. 

He may as well fall into the abyss and you'll leap in after him. 

You think the two of you confessed last night. Kissed until the breath in your lungs and fire in your loins had been exhausted. You're too exhausted from today's lectures to recall fully. 

Still, you're heart races as he enters the room. Steps in the puddle and trudges towards you. Firm hands on your shoulders as you kiss again to the beat of the afternoon sun. 

This is love you think as your eyelids grow heavier. 

This is love he thinks as he spills his research into your veins. 

[silcoitus]

The Mad Scientist's Assistant - Chp 29

Full TMSA masterlist

Previous Chapter: Chapter 28

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI 

Chapter Tags: Silco x Fem!Reader, Reader-Insert,

Chapter word count: 18k

Chapter Beta Readers: Thank you as always @purplefangirl42

Total word count: 201k

A/N: Thank you for joining me on this journey. I hope the ending is satisfying in more ways than one. As promised, I'm posting the chapter in its entirety. But in one month, I'll be replacing the text with an AO3 link. So read it here while you still can!

Chapter 29—The Nation of Zaun on AO3

A/N: I can’t believe we’re here. I can’t believe we made it. I say “we” because I truly could not have finished this work if not for you, my amazing readers. Every kudos, every comment, every hit kept me going. Can you believe when I first set out to write this it was only supposed to be 15 chapters? But then y’all inspired me and I had so many more ideas that I just had to throw in. (Some of you directly affecting the plot—looking at you, @dreamyonahill and your comment about the sleep serum side effects. I wasn’t ever going to turn that into anything, but your comment made me want to explore it and it led to one of my favorite chapters, Chapter 15! Forever grateful.)

I of course must give a giant, sloppy thank you to both my betas @purplefangirl42 and @deny-the-issue. Catching my errors and leaving me reactions in google docs really made writing feel less like a solitary endeavor. And Kels, you alone kept me in check from chapters 20 onwards and were subject to so many DMs of me questioning if I was making the right choices or not. I appreciate your honesty and your comfort when the big imposter syndrome monster would rear its ugly head.

A thank you to the BR discord. Thanks for putting up with my ramblings about TMSA and for just being an amazing, supportive community of beautiful, unhinged, sexy, talented creatives. 

Big thank you to anyone who did art of TMSA, commissioned or otherwise. It’s one thing to write a fic; it’s a different thing entirely seeing art derived from it, especially when it’s fanart. It’s so surreal to see it. (I’ll have you know I’ve saved all of them to my laptop/drive and I will cherish them forever. I should print them out!)

Yesterday was my 2-year ao3 anniversary and honestly, this feels like the perfect way to celebrate it.

Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

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[sepublic]

Thinking back to criticisms of Luz going through the same arc of opening up and letting people in throughout S2B onwards (a point following Yesterday's Lie, where Luz's guilt increased tenfold after seeing Camila's reaction), and I think it's important to remember that this is the frustrating reality behind living when you have self-loathing, suicidal ideation, etc., AKA things Luz absolutely had. The healing process IS unpleasant, that's the point. Especially in later cases when the Day of Unity is impending, or the need to get back to the Demon Realm; Sometimes the situation is inherently stressful, it feels helpless and it’s not just a matter of mental health and handling. And that just makes it easier to self-sabotage.

To apply my own quote from another fandom to this situation: Luz is grappling with continuing to apply this lesson of self-worth because that's the exhausting truth; You will relapse and you will have to constantly remind yourself and relearn that same lesson over and over again. That's life, that's the banal truth behind living, but there's also a deep wonder behind it too.

Plus there’s other ideas this contributes towards; Like how you need to live with mistakes and how that plays into Camila’s arc with her daughter; Luz having her You are Not Immune to Propaganda moment, then forgiving herself to avoid the fallacy in Leftist circles that it’s better to have done nothing wrong than to do something right.

In particular, we see how Luz’s relapse can affect Amity, and how it gradually wears down on her, how it's genuinely stressful on her end as well; Obviously, Amity is giving Luz extra grace because Luz did the same for her first, despite nothing really prompting on her own end besides unyielding compassion. So it would hypocritical to not extend that same patience in return, and Amity does!!! But it ties back into why Raine and Eda broke up, why Raine isn't blamed for it, why Eda has to take responsibility and not just wallow in self-pity about how she's driven people away because Eda has others she cares about, and needs to look after as well, especially when they're kids dependent on her!!!

So Luz’s own relationship with Amity is at stake here if she doesn’t internalize her lesson, and sure that may seem insignificant compared to saving the isles; But it’s not just about saving the isles, but also Luz letting herself want things by continuing to stay afterwards, rather than live a self-imposed exile out of the mistaken belief that she’s inherently harmful to the demon realm for being an outsider. That can be a xenophobic take! And in the end, that relationship with Amity (who very much benefitted from Luz the Outsider) is one of the things Luz looks forward to even in her depression, and even if she planned to cut ties she wouldn’t want Amity to leave it on a bad note either; In fact Luz shouldn’t cut ties, period.

And I find it a bold take; That you need to open up not just because it's good for you, but because if you really care about your loved ones, you will see it hurts them too. That you're not just hurting yourself, this is not your ideal, noble self-sacrifice. You are still deciding things for other people in a way by hurting them, that you're not just caring about yourself but the loved ones you claim are better off from this anyhow.

You are putting people under a lot of stress because they can't reach out, and to save themselves because they can't save you without your own input, sometimes they just gotta cut ties. They feel like you're not being honest with them, and you can't blame them for making it about themselves because they've spent all this time up until now trying to make it about you and why you deserve to live. And since your own wellbeing as motive isn't good enough, at least consider theirs???

If you think about it, this could even apply to Luz’s own relationship with the Demon Realm; By insisting it doesn’t need her, that she’s more a harmful force than anything, she’s just harming it in the long run by not helping stop Belos. The isles needs Luz too, it’s not just the other way around! And then you have to remember the isles is an actual person, the Titan; So it’s another relationship of hers to maintain. The Titan is like a father figure, like Manny, so it all ties back together in Luz continuing to live and love to honor her dead father.

It's easy and even comforting to portray this type of self-loathing and self-destruction as only happening in a vacuum; But it doesn't. Despair can be comforting, and it's gonna keep hitting you over and over, unless you keep fighting it over and over. By god is it tedious, but over time it might fade away entirely. But even then you might have to stay on alert regardless. They really weren't kidding when they said To Live is To Suffer. But it's also To Thrive, and you need to work for that too.

Plus, Luz not being just done after hearing it the first time connects to how the Boiling Isles wasn't magically fixed following Belos' death and the Collector releasing everyone; They still had other people to worry about, like the other coven heads, and so much work in rebuilding the isles. We check back four years later and only then do they finally figure out how to undo coven bindings. The work continues, life continues, there is no definitive ending but you just gotta keep going. This was Dana's actual intent behind her displeasure with "Happily ever after" as a phrase, rather than hating happy endings inherently.

And I think the fact that there's still so much more to do works with the meta fact that there were still so many other stories and conflicts left untold, unresolved; Things like the Archivists, the Bat Queen's past, coven heads like Hettie Cutburn or Vitimir, etc. But in a way, the epilogue, the four year gap, and life continuing after the Quincenera because of course it will, because people and things will live on no matter how much destruction there is, is good space to explore that.

And it's a gift to fans who love stories and have the opportunity to make more themselves, because Dana herself explained in an interview how she loved to make connections in shows she had growing up, so it pleased her to inspire the same in fans from this generation. At the very least, if the show was given a spin-off or continuation, something like that, there'd definitely be more stories, and more work, to do with The Owl House. Again, those unlived stories are both the frustration, but also the wonder, behind keeping going.

[the-sky-queen]

so Jim Carrey said that movie 3 will be his last role, and then they also confirmed that there will be alot more movies in sonic cinema like Marvel does, and I love the idea that Amy will be in the next post credits scene, because it just makes sense... so, do you think movie 4 and onwards would have Metal Sonic as the main villain??

Oooooooo, that would be very interesting!! I like that I idea, though I personally have always thought that once Robotnik is gone, Stone will take his place as the main antagonist. It would be immensely interesting, especially since Sonic loves to banter with his enemies and Stone is kinda. Well. Stone faced. XD I also think it would be kinda cool to watch Stone just completely unravel as he tries to fulfill his boss's wish if destroying that hedgehog. An insane Stone would be really interesting to see!

Maybe Stone is the one who creates Metal Sonic! That way we can still have Metal as a major villain like you suggested. I think it would make sense for Stone to create Metal, especially if he still has access to the quill we saw Sonic give Robotnik in the trailer yesterday.

Anyway, sorry for the rambling. XD To sum it up, yes Metal Sonic being the new main villain would be very cool! But I think it should be in tandem with Agent Stone.

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ they're crying, but why?

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FEAT... cyno, venti (w/ diluc), gorou

A/N... aaand the results are in! this is the result of the poll i posted yesterday, thank you to everyone who submitted their vote ♡ (sorry these got a bit long! i got a bit carried away...)

WARNINGS... death/injury (gorou), mentions of alcohol/drinking (venti)

✧ cyno.

when you really put some thought into it, you don't think you've ever actually seen cyno cry. he is quite a solitary person, after all, and tends to take matters into his own hands; hating when other people get involved in his problems, especially those most dear to him.

being general mahamatra comes with a lot of responsibilty, and it's only reasonable for things to become stressful from time to time, maybe even too much too handle. that's why when you come home to a seemingly empty house, the snack you left for him on the kitchen table remaining untouched, you begin to worry. cyno has plenty of unhealthy habits, one of which being avoiding food when mentally conflicted, convinced that it acts as a catalyst to his emotions.

your first thought is to check the bedroom, expecting your beloved to be lying in bed, hopefully asleep and not silently shedding tears. however, as you near the doorway, you soon notice that the door is open... cyno never leaves the door open.

"love? are you home?"

you call out, half expecting a response, yet one was not given. instead, you were met by an eerie silence...

"where in teyvat is he?!"

you searched high and low but to no avail, you're beloved was nowhere to be seen; it was like the two of you were running in circles. little did you know, he was searching for you too...

normally, cyno would seek a quiet, secluded place to be alone with his thoughts, desperately trying to come up with a solution but his mind often wanders off to you; how you would deal with the situation, how he would manage it if it were you feeling this way. sometimes it works, other times it's completely and utterly useless; he fails to picture someone as kind-hearted and loving as you committing such violent deeds. he imagines your warmth, how gentle you are with him, how soft yet meaningful your kisses are, and finally comes to the realisation: the last thing he wants is to be alone. it had all become too much for him to handle by himself, and as guilty a he'd feel dumping it all on you, it felt as if he had no other choice.

at this point, you're breaking into a sprint, the daunting realisation that the sun was beginning to set urging you to go onwards. the thought of cyno being alone in the desert at night sent chills down your spine, even though you knew he could probably handle himself.

you pass by villagers, adventurers, and even narrowly avoid a group of hermits, all but one of them fast asleep around a campfire. a flaming ache shoots down your legs, only causing you to become more desperate as you throw your head from side to side, scouring your surroundings for any signs of him. you stop in your tracks, frozen as a silohuette in the distance catches your eye. it has ears, just like cyno's, pointing up to the sky, and you're convinced it's him. you feel your heart pounding in your chest, whether it be from the running or from nervousness you didn't know but in tha-

[THUD!]

all of a sudden, you're sent toppling to the ground, a figure falling right ontop of you, but managing to catch themselves with their hands, placed on either side of your head.

"what the..."

they had ears, just like cyno's, pointing up to the sky... was it the silohuette from earlier? it can't be, they must've been a mile away.. then who on teyvat is it?!

"cyno?!"

relief washes over you as you pull him down ontop of you, wrapping him in a tight embrace. he squirms at first, puzzled as to why a stranger was holding onto him so tightly. only when he realises its you underneath him does he finally loosen up, letting your comforting warmth envelop him and save him from the harsh cold of the desert's night.

you kiss his forehead lovingly before slowly repositioning the two of you so that he's sat upright on your lap, your back pressed against the cold cliff face behind you. it felt... strange having him on top of you like this, it wasn't often you in control, and you'd never imagined cyno of all people being on your lap, or anyone's lap for that matter. his eyes lock with yours and he immediately breaks, his eyes welling up as he crashes onto you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. he cries. he cries and cries and cries, but you remain patient with him; rubbing his back slowly and shushing him every so often.

"you're ok... shhh, you're alright. i love you, cyno, and i'll always be right by your side, no matter what"

"even when i hurt innocent people?"

you're taken aback by this statement. never in your life had anyone challenged cyno's judgment, and the last person you thought you'd hear it from was the man himself.

"you don't, love... those people deserved their punishment, don't doubt your judgement"

you feel him shift, pulling his away from your shoulder, his face mere inches from yours.

"i love you..."

he murmers, letting out a shakey breath, the warm air hitting your face and bringing a soft, rosey tint to your cheeks.

"i love you too"

you close the gap, kissing him tenderly, conveying everything you feel for him in that intimate moment, showing him how much you love him, how much you care...

✧ venti.

at first, you think venti is drunk, slumped over the bar in angel's share, seemingly groggy and, honestly, looking absolutely exhausted (but cute nontheless). you admire him from afar, taking in how his cape wraps around his figure perfectly.

"ah, [name], i was wondering when you'd turn up"

diluc, the owner of the tavern, has quite the tough exterior, though once you get to know him, his wall begins to crack, revealing his slightly softer interior.

you sigh; yes, you're used to picking venti up from the tavern by now, but you wished he could at least be a bit more responsible for things like his tab.

"don't worry, i'll pay"

approaching the two of them, you reach into your pocket, feeling around for your bag of mora, only to be interrupted by diluc's monotonous yet somehow expressive voice.

"he hasn't had anything"

even diluc seems surprised, causing you stop in your tracks; he hasn't been drinking? the feeling of disappointment quickly leaves you and is instantaneously replaced by a feeling of pure concern. your lover, still lying on the counter, is yet to even move since you walked in, and didn't respond when the redhead called his name. instinctively, you place your hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him, urging him to get up.

"love?"

he doesn't respond, you and diluc sharing a look; you can tell from his eyes that does, in fact, care for venti. your eyebrows furrow as you stop shaking him and rest your hand on his back, only to realise he is still trembling. as quietly as you can, you pull up a stool and take a seat next to him, diluc taking this as his hint to leave and wondering into the storage room.

all it takes is a few sniffles for you to realise exactly what was going on.

"darling... venti, look at me"

reaching out your hand to hold his, your realise how sweaty his palms are, pulling them away from his face to reveal his puffy, red eyes staring up at you, though he quickly diverts his gaze once the two of you make eye contact. in that exact moment, you can feel your heart breaking, each tear rolling down his cheek forming a new crack. without hesitation, you hug him. it's an awkward hug, his upper half still resting on the counter, your right arm reaching over his back and rubbing his shoulder, your left snaking around his waist and pulling him closer.

"this isn't very comfortable..."

you chuckle, even through sadness, venti's... strong personality never fails to show through. his breath hitches every so often as he tries to hold back his sobs, but, archons, was it good to hear his voice again, no matter how broken it may sound. you feel him shift under your arms and so you remove them from around him, allowing him the capacity to move into a more comfortable position; which happened to be lifting you up and pulling you onto his lap, the small of your back pressed against the edge of the counter.

"what's got you so down in the dumps, hm?"

you question, reaching up a hand to tilt his chin up while the other ruffles his hair. he doesn't respond, but instead pulls his face away from your touch and buries it in your chest, finding the rise and fall of your breathing comforting. you both just sit in silence, appreciating eachother's presence more than anything. still in venti's arms, you reach into your bag and grab a notepad and pen, scribbling down a note, thanking diluc for letting your partner stay and watching over him. venti simply watches, slightly confused when you leave a scrappy looking piece of paper on the stool next to you... that is until he reads "dear diluc", and everything seems to click.

venti never does explain what had upset him so much, but you trust him; you trust that when he needs you, he'll come find you, for you can hide from many things, but never the wind...

(unbeknownst to the two of you, diluc had been listening in to your conversation the entire time, a foreign sense of worry prevented him from leaving, curious to know what had gotten his most loyal patron friend in such a state...)

✧ gorou.

gorou doesn't know how long he's been stood at the front door, trembling as waves upon waves of guilt flood over him. an impossible challenge had approached him, one he could never have been prepared for.

it was an ambush.

manslaughter. hundreds of his men, brave warriors, slain. defeated. gone. the hope he had, the passion, dissapated within an instant, crashing to the ground just like him when he heard the news. he fell silent, but kokomi could tell by the way he slumped over that his heart shattered. she told him not to lose hope, that the resistance still has a chance of overpowering the vision hunt decree, but that isn't what got him on his knees. he wasn't there. he couldn't save them. it was his fault.

he wondered for hours, aimlessly following paths but straying off them once he neared the home of a fallen soldier. somehow, as if by miracle, he found himself at the front door of your shared home, hours after his usual return, leaving you worried sick. weakly, he lifted his hand and rested it on the door handle, but he couldn't bring himself to walk in... he was ashamed. hundreds of his men died on his watch, how could he possibly return home carrying that on his shoulders? it must've been 20 minutes after he arrived before you finally decided to go out looking for him, despite him making you promise that you'd never go searching for him if he didn't return home; how could you not knowing your beloved could be in danger?

"gorou? archons, i was worried sick! how long have you been standing out here its so- cold... love?"

you practically exploded on him, not giving him a chance to speak, which in some ways he is grateful for, the last thing he wanted was to have to confess. so instead he just stood there, motionless, his feet stiff on the ground, as if held in place by glue. he couldn't bare to look you in the eye, avoiding your gaze at all costs.

"sweetheart... please look at me? did something happen? are you hurt?"

scanning him over, you see no signs of external injury, but you notice how he's gently shaking, his hands fidgeting with the tip of his tail which seemed slightly damp. immediatey you knew; he'd been crying. what for, you don't know, but in that moment, you didn't need to.

you know gorou well enough to have memorised his habits, one of which being him cuddling his tail when he cries, especially when you're not there to hold and console him. how do you know this? you've walked in on him before; hidden under the covers and whimpering softly as he tried his best to muffle his cries.

seeing him upset is like a dagger to the heart, and you can't stand watching him fall apart right in front of you.

"let's get you inside, hm?"

he nods meekly, forcing a smile as he steps past you and into the warmth, instantly feeling a sense of comfort at the familiar smells and sensations of your home.

you have your back turned from him, purposefully taking longer than usual to lock the door, trying to come up with a way to cheer up your partner.

the very instant you turned back around to face him, solid plan in mid, he crashes into your arms, desperately clawing at the back of your shirt, searching for something to ground himself. you feel his face nuzzle into your chest, his tears wetting your shirt, but you didn't mind. infact, you opted to bring him even closer, your hand at the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair and gently scratching his scalp.

"i- i'm sorry..."

his voice wavered, as if he forced the words out. he breaks down after his apology, knowing just how the hard the news was going to hit you.

"don't apologise, dear, i'm just glad you're back with me, safe and sound"

you squeeze him tighter, wanting to pull him in even more, but knowing he could only be so close until he literally couldn't breathe. once the trembling stops, and his sobs turn to sniffles, you pull away, moving your hands to cup his cheeks and tilt his head to face yours. smiling, you lean down ever so slightly and plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

"now, let's get a warm cup of tea and you can tell me all about it, ok? i'll fix you up a little something to eat too"

hand in hand, the two of you relocate to the kitchen, gorou sat timidly at the table whilst you prepare him some tricolour dango. you both take deep breaths together before he slowly guides you through his day, attempting to explain what had happened. his nerves were spiking, knowing you'd be distraught at what had happened on the battlefield, scared that you'd become angry at him and tell him he's to blame.

to say you were heartbroken was an understatement, some of those who were lost were friends of yours, that was a fact that couldn't be dismissed, and so you did shed a few tears; but you would never blame any of it on gorou.

over the course of the next couple hours, you cried together, you laughed together, you ate together, only to cry once more, but you found comfort in doing it together. rising from your seat to get a glass of water, you catch sight of the time, letting gorou know and suggesting the pair of you head to bed. you tell him to go ahead and get comfortable while you stay and clean the dishes, giving him a few minutes to recollect his thoughts and calm himself down.

the two of you stay in bed from that point onwards, holding each other close, reminiscing on the memories you had shared with those who had unfortunately passed; you knew it was hard for him to talk about such things, and it was hard for you too, but if not now, when? there were moments where he'd begin to tear up again, but you'd be there to calm him, rubbing his back and whispering sweet nothings in his ear...

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

© FICTOCULUS 2023; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

[sgiandubh]

Hello, good afternoon! Yesterday I read your post about James Morrison and I was thinking about the other fragments of himself that Sam eventually shows - a few hints here and there that he collects something, etc. Then I remembered the parts we've already seen of his house (the new one and the previous one) and I was wondering where these things are? There doesn't seem to be anything as delicate or sophisticated as these paintings. Could it be, just could it be, that those portions of his houses that he shows us are some kind of staged set?

Dear (returning) Greeting Anon,

I am very glad to see you back, always a pleasure, but just so you know: my James Morrison post is a shameful flop, because I was wrong and had to edit & explain. But you know, it's ultimately fine, because: a) it sparked comments & debate and b) I do hope it somehow helped to show that it could happen to anyone. And when it does, I think it's way worse (and toxic!) to play the ostrich game, than to step forward and openly own it (you'd need balls for it, though). One thing I am very sorry for: all those readers who never peruse the comments and take it as is from the people who share it first just took it for granted. Edits happen and they are sometimes (like yesterday) drastic.

That being said, along with my deepest apologies, onwards to your question. Yes, he showed us one of his James Morrison paintings and, unlike my idiotic speculation, that is a documented fact:

The painting very probably being Bergs, Otto Fiord (1992), from Morrison's Arctic cycle:

... and we even have a very personal, BTS photograph of it - fascinating, eh?

[Source: Apollo Magazine, March 2021: https://www.apollo-magazine.com/james-morrison-scottish-painter-film-review-anthony-baxter-bbc-iplayer/ - gracias a ti, siempre, ❤️]

We all know that his house is rather a big, sprawling affair. I don't think we ever saw anything he was not ready to show us with a very specific and calculated purpose in mind. And that purpose might just be to promote the idea of a rather dull non descript bachelor pad, filled with meh, neutral furniture, naive memorabilia and a haphazard assortment of books on a shelf, that tell us strictly nothing about the real S.

If anything, C's recording cupboard didn't seem to fare better. Same flair & inspiration, or rather lack thereof, that made all those rooms look like storage spaces for luxury nomads. That Mordor ass-kissing fan art and the church sketch seem way too much in your face to be credible, especially when compared with her Queen of the Arctic public, uxorial appearances. But what do I know, Greeting Anon? And perhaps not knowing is exactly what These Two really want. Her bookshelves were way more talkative - but then the idiots across the street immediately screeched it 'was staged' (as if there was an urgent need to stage a corridor!).

Life is always elsewhere and more interesting than on social media. And it is quite alright, Anon. Trust me - this story is not for us and not ours to tell.

[lovehotelreservation]

Hunting for Sport

Summary: He was seen as The Outlaw to many. But to you--especially after what you’ve done to him--he was your hunter.

[Contains plot spoilers for Final Fantasy XVI]

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: F!Reader/Clive

i was up until 4 am yesterday to finish ff16  🚬🚬

----------------

There was a bounty on your head.

A piece of parchment with your face illustrated across, a hefty lump sum of gil stamped right beneath.

Who could resist trying their luck for such a splendid prize?

But being wanted so much was why you were currently meandering through the bustling streets of Kanver. Grand boulevards lined with shops and stalls offering the finest wares and goods in all of Valisthea, enticing big crowds to peruse–which, in turn, allowed for you to blend in easily without being noticed, especially with the hood of your cloak drawn over your head.

Even in the case of drawing suspicion amidst the hubbub, a quick turn into a nearby alleyway or striking up conversation with an earnest merchant was enough to shake off any attention.

Of course, there was one point to be made: Why go through such lengths when you could seek comfort in the shadows?

And the answer to such a question was simple.

It was as you were approaching a busy intersection at the heart of one of Kanver’s beloved marketplaces when a shadow loomed above you from behind, a soft yet gruff “Pardon me” uttered before you felt someone shift beside you to move on ahead.

The calm expression on your features broke into mischievous glee as you immediately took a few steps back.

That towering herculean physique, clothes, cape and armor of fine crimson and sturdy obsidian, the fine brisk hairs of a beard along his chiseled jaw that barely masked the strikingly distinct scar on his cheek, a grand and gorgeous sword sheathed on the scabbard that hung on his back, and–most captivatingly of all–those darling deep blue eyes that stared out ahead, narrowed ever so slightly in focus.

The Outlaw.

By his infamous renown, he was the only man you would ever entertain the thought of being apprehended by.

You readied to disappear back into the crowds.

That would have to wait for another day, another city, however.

But as you stepped back once more, it was right when you turned that you realized that those captivating blue eyes were no longer facing forward.

They were facing directly to your direction, straight right into your eyes.

His gaze thinned and his eyebrows furrowed as he shifted into a far more hawkish stance while his mouth uttered one word.

A word that made your eyes glitter with thrill and your lips curl into a wide grin.

Your name.

Your instincts roared at you to flee and so you did.

The hunt was on.

Kanver’s streets were to be the playing grounds while The Outlaw was to be your predator.

And as appealing as it sounded with how utterly handsome he was, you were in no mood to be easy prey.

Prior to this encounter, you had your means of discretely slipping back into the shadows. Yet for every moment you heard the heavy thuds of his armored boots a bit too close for your liking, you went from trying to slip back into the crowds to barrelling yourself through as much as you could, for ven a moment’s hesitation could result in being seized by the clawed grip of The Outlaw.

Forward, onward. 

A sharp turn around a corner. 

Kicking at a barrel to obstruct a path. 

Weaving in and out from street to shop.

The threat of his hand finally grabbing at the back of neck felt closer with each attempted swipe.

It was as you rushed through the empty storage hall of an abandoned store front that you then decided to tear off your cloak, tossing it back behind you as one last effort to hold him up before you would try to find refuge elsewhere.

Not that you needed your cloak to begin with.

Even with your hood on, The Outlaw had gazed upon your hunting bill far too long much within his personal quarters to mistake you.

After all, you were the one to send the parchment to him in the first place.

Your fingers immediately tugged at the front tie and clasp of your cloak just before tossing it back behind you while you dug deep into the well of your energy to sprint as fast as you could.

And then, you heard a burst of flame behind. 

The cool seaside air behind you was replaced by the brush of scorching heat, soon replaced by the natural warmth of flesh as a big sturdy arm immediately wrapped around your waist before pulling you back against a broad and chiseled chest, an action that was more smooth rather than brutish.

You barely could get a gasp out, your eyes wide and jaw slack in surprise.

The hunt was over but The Outlaw was far from done.

Your name was uttered once more right as you were drawn into a turn, your eyes soon finding themselves gazing right up into his.

All while your lips were soon claimed by his own.

So hungry, so yearning.

Passion was in the heart of its ferocity.

One that you were happy to reciprocate in return.

Yet as the two of you pulled away for air, you finally got a few words out in a huff.

“Using magic? That’s not fair, Clive…!”

You were met with a small grin in response. 

“Did you expect an outlaw to play fairly?” He chuckled just before kissing you once again, all while his hands reached to grab at your backside. “Then again, I’d say we’re eye to eye on this after what you did…”

Your pout was replaced by a satisfied smile as you recalled the last night you spent together, just before you took off for a mission towards the Easternmost coast of Storm.

You and him at his study, his desk a mess of paperwork and letters. His wrists were bound behind him while he remained seated, his teeth gritted tight as he fought back to groan and snarl too loudly while you rode his cock, bouncing up and down his lap. You made sure to brush your breasts right against his chest, knowing fully well that all he craved was to have his hands on you, to please you as much as you pleased him.

Though, you were more of the mind to be far more wicked, for it was as he was ready to release that you suddenly got off of him, breaking your kiss with him to instead bring your lips to his ear while your hand wrapped around the base of his cock to bring him to orgasm, his seed staining your fingers instead of spilling inside of you as he so desperately wanted.

The devastation on his face was too precious for words.

Joining you, being close to you, being one with you–that was what he cherished most.

It was teasingly cruel, you knew.

Yet how could you resist wickedness around him?

Witnessing those deep tender blue eyes of his become stormy with burning desire was a sight you were simply addicted to beholding.

And thus, if he wanted to receive what he wanted from you, he would just have to hunt you down, as you sweetly murmured into his ear.

You were gone before the last knot of the ropes around his wrists unraveled.

Now you were here, caught and caged against him while he kissed your mouth, his hands caught between pulling at your clothes to outright tearing at the fabric, urgency in his pace and touch.

What a joy it was to be hunted by him.

Your body, his bounty.

Your heart, his prize.

You, his.