#Meeting Room Scheduling Software

[liberty-i]

Meeting Room Scheduler & Booking Software

Our meeting room scheduler and booking software streamline the process of reserving meeting rooms. Simplify your scheduling process and book a room in seconds.

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 2 — JJK (m.)

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 22.5k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, lovely hot nerdy jk ): (i think i speak for all women when i say that nerdy jungkook is the best jungkook say I IF U AGREE),[explicit sexual content: masturbation (f)], has the budding romance finally hit the second towers? read more to find out

NOTES hey everyone thank you so much for the overwhelming support on this silly little fic. i hope you guys enjoy this update and let me know your thoughts in the replies/reblog section and in my inbox, wherever you prefer hehe <3

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You usually finish prepping for the office at around 7:40 am, just enough time left to walk to the station and catch your bus at exactly 8 am.

As of now, it's 7 but the clock's longer hand has moved past the 40-minute mark, and you are still in your living room, supposedly all done and ready to go – except that you're stuck on the floor looking at your laptop perched on your coffee table, staring at it blankly, the HR email looking right back at you; almost daunting.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this event is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this meeting is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You've been reading it over and over again you're sure you can recite it with ease if prompted. It's in the hopes that the name Jeon Jungkook will suddenly disappear somewhere in the email – that maybe you missed some detail, and it doesn't actually mention his name at all. You read the email repeatedly wishing that it is just a glitch in the system and what you found out about yesterday are all just a part of your extreme delusion. Maybe it's one of those nights with Jimin at his apartment where you would indulge in a little bit of guilty pressure – pots, to be exact – and just let it take you to a whole new world.

But you and Jimin didn't go home together last night, and you definitely did not smoke pot. He went straight to the airport and you straight home with nothing but mixed feelings inside, and you were more than thankful that Jimin was in a bout of panic himself about not getting there on time that he didn't notice you squirming in his passenger seat.

There is a vague memory in your head with him telling you he was going to come with Namjoon, but you can't be for sure. Everything that transpired that night is all reduced down to the very moment in the comfort room when you realized the glaring information about Jungkook being three eggs in your basket: first, he's Jimin's cousin. Second, he's an executive in your company – a CTO, to be exact – and while you aren't exactly working under his department and they are all the way up ten floors above you, he's still technically your boss according to the hierarchy. The son of the CEO of the very company you are working at. Not only is he the CTO, but third he's also your neighbor. Someone you've met weeks ago whom you may have developed a growing relationship with that will now possibly be bleak in a matter of hours or days depending on if you are going to tell him or if he finds out.

That is the thing that you're currently debating with yourself about as you let your eyes glide over the unsuspecting email from HR for the nth time.

7:50 am – the clock on your screen reads.

You think about the dock pay that you're gonna get if you come to work late. At this point, you can run to the station and still catch your bus, but you have to decide in a minute for that to be possible.

Groaning, you feel defeated as you shut your laptop close and stand up from the floorboards, your eyes going over to the door across from you which earns yourself a wince.

I'm gonna get a dock pay and it will all be Jungkook's fault. That jerk.

Okay – obviously, he's far from a jerk and he has nothing to do with any of this. You just like blaming anybody.

You sigh, grabbing your bag, finally making up your mind to just go and see for yourself what today has to offer you. A little optimism, if you will. But if you manage to bump into Jungkook at that company you aren't sure if you're not going to do something embarrassing because one thing about you, you do not know how to face certain challenges in life like a matured individual – you always have to be a little overboard and overdramatic with it.

You were heading towards the door when you suddenly remember your ID.

Your ID. Funny.

As you pick it up off the coffee table, you think about how you don't really wear it on the way to work and on your way home. You don't like the feeling of the lanyard wrapping around the skin of your nape, so you've always just worn it when you're in the office where it is mandatory. Otherwise, you make sure to take it off.

Suddenly, you think about a scenario where you're the kind of employee to wear their ID all the time, and those nights where you'd go to Midday straight from work to have dinner with Jungkook would've turned out differently because then if you were to have worn your ID during one of those meetings, he would've figured out that you're working at the same company. And maybe... the conversation about his relation to Jimin would've came up.

And maybe, you won't feel so... complicated about the whole thing.

How – in the two weeks that you've spent with him – do you know too much yet so little about him? How did you ever not ask each other where you work and how did this all come to you like a landslide and now you have no way out?

God's sake, you know about his dog, and you've exchanged numbers... and yet...

Although, granted, maybe you should've asked for each other's socials? Does he have Instagram? Twitter? Maybe if you had exchanged those sooner, you would've gotten to know him more and made the connections you only recently found out.

You want so badly to reach out to Jimin to talk to him about all of this. But he hasn't really contacted you since he sent off Namjoon to the airport. Maybe he really did leave with him, and it isn't just your imagination when he said something about going there last night when you sneaked out of the party.

But deep inside... you do not really want to talk to him about any of this, at all.

It is, to simply put, awkward.

You feel ashamed for gushing about your neighbor that is apparently the same person as his cousin. Feel embarrassed about how you ogled over him to Jimin when in fact, they're related. You don't know about other people, but you know the unspoken rule about not dating your friends' relatives? Not like you're dating Jungkook, but you have a crush on him for fuck's sake. The strings do not even stop at their blood relation because it extends to your workplace as well.

You know Jimin well enough to feel confident about not getting judged by him if you were to tell him about it, and if he actually does, he will directly say it to your face as far as you're concerned. But...

It's just all too awkward to tell anyone about. You're in too deep in the sea of embarrassment and shame you cannot think of ways to get out of it.

Your head is starting to hurt, and you know it's the sign to stop thinking. So, you shut up all the voices in your head and walk towards the door ready to go out, telling yourself that whatever happened, you're going to handle everything cooly like the grown woman you are.

Stepping outside the threshold of your apartment, you're just about to turn around to lock the door on your way out when suddenly, the door across yours opens and there welcomes you the man starring in your list of problems for the day: Jeon Jungkook, your neighbor Unit 446.

"Oh, hi. Good morning—"

You turn on your heel so quickly and open the door to your apartment so fast it's almost at the speed of light, entering your apartment once again and slamming the door closed, pressing your back on it as your eyes widen; heart beating at a staccato of thug, thug, thug as you take a moment to hold your breath.

What the fuck.

How in the hell is this the first time you see each other getting ready to work? It couldn't have happened in the first week you knew him or hell, the first day?! Why must you have bumped into him like that the moment you finally knew about who he is? Everything is getting way too ridiculous. It's like the universe is telling you once again that you'll always be her middle child: unfavorable by all ends.

"Shit." You hiss, biting your lip quite harshly as you think about how you must've looked like a goddamn fool turning on him like that for no reason. Jungkook must've been weirded the hell out – and rightfully so.

You face-palm. Damn, you were just telling yourself you're gonna handle everything like a grown, matured woman.

You unconsciously walk on your tippy toes on the way to the small window on the side of the door that lets you oversee outside your door, peeking from there like a creep as you watch Jungkook, still on his porch – with his grey coat over his arm – looking down on his phone and doing something with it.

That something is apparently sending you a text.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: why did u seem like u just saw a ghost?

The message read when you open your phone at the bell of notification. You haven't even read all of it yet when another one comes in.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: am I that appalling in the mornings? Haha 🥴

On any occasion, you would've laughed and go along with the joke, but you do not know what to say to him.

You stand there doing nothing, just staring at his two consecutive messages, poorly left on read. You purse your lips as you peek from the small window again, getting a glimpse of Jungkook standing still on his porch, eyes glued to his phone. He waits for awhile, and then you see him shaking his head with a hint of... smile on his face?

And then your phone dings once again.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:53am]: good morning by the way. Get safely to work

You stare at it so hard that the next second you look at the window, he isn't there anymore.

Letting out a heavy breath, you knock your head on the door, thinking about how you missed your 8 am bus and you have to wait for 30 minutes for another one to come and most especially, how you're going to get a dock pay for being late.

It's almost as if Jungkook is running for higher office the way his face is plastered all over the LED screens inside the building, showing the announcement of his ceremony. It's taunting almost, the way it was the first thing you see when you swiped your ID for entry.

Although, you do find it funny that it's the same man you just saw in front of you when you stepped outside of your place earlier this morning.

"Sol," you call your co-worker and also your friend, sliding your swivel chair closer to her desk. "Do we really have to go to the ceremony?" You ask, seeing that everybody in the office is already setting aside the stuff on their desks to head out to the 12th floor where the announcement ceremony will be held.

Sol fixes the post-it note on her computer first before turning to you, "Of course we do."

You pout at that.

"Is Ms. Jung really gonna be mad if we don't attend?"

"You know how she has this obsession of making our department look good, so I'm assuming yes." She answers, and you slump in your seat knowing damn well she's right to think that. Sol sees your seemingly grumpy disposition and asks, "Why? You don't wanna go?"

If only she knew.

You shake your head to her question.

"I just think it's gonna be boring," you shrug, the lie rolling on your tongue seamlessly.

"Eh, at least it's less work for today. Those things run for two hours and there's free lunch so that's that."

Events like these are supposed to be advantageous for you because again, Sol is right and those things do run for about two hours meaning less workload. Also, free lunch. Who doesn't like free stuff? But then again, Jungkook is going to be there and with your luck, you're starting to think that you're going to see more of him from now on. That is just how the world works against you.

"You're right." You say, frowning becoming more and more apparent, you're sure.

Sol chuckles at you and stands up herself, fixing her dress as you follow her out of the office.

Before you could completely go out though, you stop her on her tracks.

"Hey, do you think you have a face mask I can borrow?" You say, looking hopefully at her. Sol raises her brows, obviously confused at your strange request. Clearing your throat, you pretend to cough a little in your fisted hand. "I'm feeling a little under the weather today, but I drank my meds this morning. Forgot the mask." You reason with her, adding more lies to the conversation.

"Oh, I see. Okay, I think I have it." Sol perks up at the realization and you both enter your office once again, with your co-worker digging through her desk's drawer for the mask you were asking her for.

She hands it to you as soon as she finds it and you're quick to wear it around your mouth, silently rejoicing in your head at the brilliant last-minute plan you came up with in your head in order to avoid anything with Jungkook later. Not that you expect him to do something if he, indeed, sees you – you doubt he even will, given that the hall is huge, and you are planning to sit all the way back – but the mask is just a precautionary measure so there are less chances of him recognizing you or anything crazy like that.

Together, Sol and you ride the elevator down to the 12th floor and unsurprisingly, a lot of the company's employees are already there, finding their seats, chitchats heard across the hall.

"Sol, __!" Joonhwi, one of your co-junior accountants and also a friend, calls out to you both, separating himself from the other accountants and heading to your direction. "You're sick?" He asks as soon as he sees your face covered with the mask.

"A little." You reply.

Joonhwi nods his head and then say, "I thought you girls were planning to ditch the ceremony."

"I'll do anything to not see your face but then again we work together so I have no choice." Sol snarkily remarks.

"Sol, can you please refrain from professing your love to me with all these people around?" Joonhwi retorts back, smarmy and teasing, ever the expert on how to get on Sol's nerves.

"__, can you get this khia away from me?"

You laugh at both of their exchange, shaking your head at their silly antics. You don't know if Sol is just... emotionally constipated, but damn, she sure is clueless as hell about Joonhwi's feelings. It seems like everybody from the accounting department knows except for her.

Shaking your head, you go straight to the seats available with Joonhwi and Sol sitting on opposite sides of you.

"Anyway, I heard they're appointing Mr. Jeon's son." Joonhwi suddenly say.

Now that makes you squirm.

"Really?" You utter, just to give them a reaction.

Sol looks at you weird. "I thought everybody knew that?"

"Well, there are lots of Jeons in Korea..." you tell her, earning a laugh from Joonhwi which makes Sol frown.

"A man is not allowed to laugh in my vicinity, Joonhwi, shut up," she says rolling her eyes. Her tone shifts when she speaks to you though, suddenly sounding more gossip-y as she shows you a picture on her phone. "Look at the material, though,"

You look at the photo of a man who very much has the same and exact coloring of the one and only Jeon Jungkook you know and you have to swallow the lump in your throat.

"I mean, I've always thought Mr. Jeon was a DILF but his son is – damn." She adds, zooming in on Jungkook's professional head shot.

You and Joonhwi both give her the stinky eye.

"Have some class." you tell her, earning a laugh from both of them.

"For the record, you agreed to that before." Sol points out, referring to that dinner you three had at a barbecue house awhile ago. For the record, though, you were both drunk and Joonhwi had to haul Sol's ass back to her place and call Jimin to get you to yours.

"I refuse to acknowledge anything I've ever said when I was drunk."

"Okay but is anybody getting the urge to get transferred to the IT department expeditiously?" Sol jokes, obviously swooning over Jungkook.

Joonhwi snorts. "The CTO doesn't even go there."

"Killjoy much?" Sol frowns at him. "He'd visit, though. Imagine the eye candy."

You eye her in a teasing manner, "You have enough candy on your plate, Sol." And then you subtly look over Joonhwi.

Joonhwi himself doesn't seem to expect the insinuation, but nonetheless you know that he got the message of you implying he's good-looking and if Sol is looking for that, he's just there. That is why he suddenly loses his smirk and rests his back on the seat, crossing his arms as he retires himself from the conversation, obviously dodging your teasing.

Psh. Emotionally constipated co-worker number two.

"What the hell does that mean?" Sol asks, but she can't get an answer as the ceremony begins.

"Good morning, everyone. Today marks a significant moment as we gather to appoint our interim Chief Technology Officer," The host starts the introduction, "We are here to acknowledge the pivotal role of the CTO in our company's journey to ensure continuity in our innovation efforts. It is with great pleasure that I introduce Mr. Jeon Jungkook, our interim CTO, who has been selected to step into the position."

And there is him, in his grey suit that you've seen him in earlier. He's wearing his glasses as well, the one that has the thinner frame. You notice he switches between two kinds; he wears the thick-framed one off work and the thin-framed one during work, like right now. 

Jungkook smiles at the applause that reverberates all over the hall. There are LED screens that hang on both sides of the room and you can see his face clearly there. Sol gushes over how good he looks.

"Jesus, wow..." Sol whispers to herself, and you're sure she did not mean for you to hear that, so you try not to acknowledge it because deep inside, you agree with her. That's exactly your reaction when you saw him for the first time in the stairs of your apartment complex – and he didn't even clean up in his suit that time.

Jungkook stands on the podium with an easy-going smile on his face, his aura screaming confidence. He looks so sure of himself, like he's born to actually do this.

"Thank you, Mr. Park. Good day to all. I am deeply honored and humbled to accept the role of Chief Technology Officer at Blue Nexus Incorporation. As we navigate this interim period, my commitment is to uphold..."

You watch as he starts his speech, noting how well he speaks. You aren't a stranger to how people have different personalities when they are in and off work, but it's almost disorienting to see Jungkook going all professional, his voice soft but edgy at the same time, just enough for you and everyone to recognize a bit of authority in there.

He looks over the crowd, and for a brief second, you feel as if his eyes glossed over you far longer than he had other parts in the room.

But that thought dies down as quickly when he immediately goes back to speaking, and you're sure you just imagined it.

You're in the middle of your night routine when your phone suddenly dings.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:44pm]: just remembered we never really got around to that boxing machine, did we

Right. Today is Friday and you are supposed to go that boxing machine to determine if he's gonna supply your daily boba or if you're coming over to his place so he can cook you both a meal.

But that deal was made days ago when you still were clueless about his identity, and admittedly, you'd say that right now, you're doing anything to avoid him.

Scrolling through your message thread and seeing Jungkook's texts since that morning being left on read makes you feel bad. You know it isn't fair. It isn't nice to just suddenly go leave people dry like that, especially Jungkook who has been so strangely non-confronting about your sudden weird behavior.

It takes you a few minutes to give him a reply due to you erasing and retyping your message repeatedly.

You [10:47pm]: sorry ive been busy the whole day with work ):

Was what you lamely came up with. You couldn't have done better than that, to be honest with yourself.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:47pm]: I see Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:48pm]: so raincheck tonight?

You [10:48]: sorryyyy for cancellig im just feeling a little under the weather

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:49pm]: ohhhh ok ok sorry for texting late

You [10:50pm]: asbdbsfjshf its fine!!!!!!!!

Maybe you didn't think it through, but you find yourself typing the next message and hitting send way too quickly.

You [10:51pm]: maybe tomorrow?

You're thinking about taking it back, but Jungkook has already replied.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:51pm]: ok. I'll see you tomorrow 😊

Pursing your lips, you wonder what he's doing tonight.

Is he working? Maybe some take-home paperworks? What do CTOs even do? He must be really busy... though you think it has to be otherwise since he had the time to text you.

You stand up from the chair of your vanity table, patting your hair one last time and jumping to your bed, ready to overthink some more then sleep when an idea suddenly pops up into your head the moment your eyes lay on your phone.

Making yourself comfortable on your mattress, you pick up the phone from your night stand and unlock it, your fingers making quick work of opening the Instagram app and typing jeonjungkook on the search bar.

The results show you a few accounts that resemble the username you looked up, but as you check each one, none of them seems to belong to the man you're looking for. So, you try a few varieties: jungkook, jungkookjeon, jeon... JK?... but then you're sure you've milked out the last of your brain juice trying to come up with a possible username for him but to no avail.

Jimin must be following him, you think to yourself. Since Jimin is a snob on his verified and public account and isn't following anybody there, you go straight to his private account to try and find a Jungkook in his following but again – you guessed it, failed search.

"Does he not have an IG?" you ask yourself, feeling quite exhilarated.

You think about Twitter, but remembering Jungkook's face makes you share your head in disagreement with yourself. There is no way he has Twitter. That guy looks terminally offline and doesn't have the face of someone who likes tweeting in his leisure time.

You'd say it was curiosity rather than desperation when you decided to install Facebook and hoped to see some of him there. You did have little hopes though, as you started typing his name, thinking there was no way you'd see him on the app because, who even uses Facebook nowadays except moms and dads and grandparents?

But then as you jokingly type his name and enter it on the search bar, a few tagged pictures of him show up.

The first one is posted by a Jeon Junghyun, his brother, and the picture is from 2017. Said picture is of Jungkook at the airport sitting on his luggage, and the caption reads as: good luck in college brother.

You stare at the picture, noting how young he looked in it and suddenly feel disoriented when you see his arms with no ink around them. They're so bare, and he definitely looked more lean, not like the muscly guy you know him as now. He was starting college here, so he must've been only 19 in the photo... meaning he got his tattoos in the States while he was in college or maybe even later than that?

You click on Jungkook's page, the one that his brother tagged in the photo, but all you see is the default Facebook profile picture and a locked account.

Feeling disappointed at that, you go back to his brother's page and check it out, throwing all your shame away as you look through his photos.

He must've limited his audience since the public posts are all outdated, but there are a few pictures in which Jungkook is in them, as well as other recurring people who seem to be their parents.

There's a recent family picture of them in the Eiffel Tower – uploaded in 2022 – all four of them.

As you see Mr. Jeon, the CEO of your company, with his family, it's hard not to feel... whiplashed, for the lack of better term. From the looks of it, they seem to be... close? For the record, Jimin does not have any casual pictures of him with his parents, and as far as you know, they never went out on trips together – just galas and all that socialite events. You know they are only mere pictures, not solid enough to assume what Jungkook's relationship is with his family, but you're starting to think maybe it's a good one.

That'll honestly be surprising, given that every wealthy family you know has dysfunctional relationships. Nevertheless, it will be quite... adorable if what you think is true.

"Oh my god," you say, disbelieving, as you recognize Jimin in one of Junghyun's public photos while scrolling through more.

It's an event of some sort, and how can you not spot Jimin when he looks conspicuous in his orange hair? You remember this being in your sophomore year in college, and how much Jimin actually hates that hair and wants to burn down every picture that reminds him of it.

You snort as you zoom in on Jimin, taking a screenshot of the photo, mindlessly going to your messaging app; ready to send him the photo to poke lighthearted fun, but then you realize—

"Oh, I can't do that."

Jimin will ask you where you got the photo from, and you'll have to tell him that you were cyber stalking his cousin. Then, he'll ask why you were stalking his cousin, and he will find out the very thing you don't want him to find out.

That makes you frown, quick to delete the message you were just about to send and put your phone back to your nightstand.

Well, that ruins fun.

You wish you can tell Jimin or anyone for the matter, but you currently don't feel comfortable about doing that.

Sighing, you look up at your ceiling, then forcefully close your eyes to avoid more thoughts coming into your head.

You start counting sheep until you fall asleep.

There had been a lot of times where you felt like shit about yourself. They happen way too many times that at this point, you'd lost count. It wired you to think that there must be something wrong when a day goes all too well.

But there is no beating the feeling of self-antagonism when you ditch somebody – even if it's for a valid reason.

Sure, you've ditched Jimin a couple of times, and he always makes sure to rub it on your face as much as he can until you pout at him and explain to him that there are just some days you do not feel like going out. Jimin, as your best friend, understands that about you, of course.

A lot of times, though, it's the dates you tend to ditch the most. Three dates – you recall – is the number of times you'd skipped out of, just because you had a panic attack thirty minutes before the meeting that one time and two times for the plain, simple fact that you had a realization that you did not really like the guy you were planning to see.

Shin Taemu, the guy from the IT department asked you out last month for a second date and you texted him a last-minute, half-assed lame excuse about having gotten period cramps. Up to this day, you're still wary about using the IT department's copy room because his texts, since then, have been left unanswered. You saw him awhile ago at the cafeteria, though, and he seemed to be treating you non-differently even after you ghosted him suddenly. 

Recently, you're doing the same thing again to Jungkook.

It isn't dating, of course – just the whole ditching thing.

You feel terrible for canceling on him again on Saturday when you just told him Friday night that you would go to that boxing machine. He had texted you a simple "we still on?" with a smiley emoji that gave you the creeps (because that smiley emoji does not ever mean the person is smiling behind it – knowing Jungkook though, it's probably not the case, and you're just overthinking it). You've left that text to rot until Sunday morning, and only picked it up later during the night, telling him you were "sorry I just saw this now! I was swamped with work stuff" even though you've never brought paperworks at home in your whole career and you were just binging The X-Files, bashing those two idiotic emotionally constipated FBI agents when you are quite one, yourself.

Sometimes, you fear you're no better than a man. Jimin will willingly knock your head on a door to get you to your senses and tell you all the things about why you should never compare yourself to them – but there are times like these when your shortcomings – specifically your lack of proficiency in communication – mirror that of a man's, and you hate every single second of it.

Until then, you dreaded for Monday to come.

But it's ultimately inevitable 

And when you wake up from your sleep, it's Monday, and you have to go to work whether you like it or not.

And oh, to add, Jungkook hasn't replied to your message. Which – okay – ouch. But you're not supposed to be hurt by it; if anything, you kind of deserve it after ditching him so many times. He isn't an idiot, and you're sure he knows you lied... you're just thankful that he's not saying anything if he does know, indeed.

You have thought things over in the shower this morning, though.

If Jungkook is three eggs in your basket, why will it matter? So, what's the big deal if he is Jimin's cousin and that he works at the same company and lives in the same apartment complex?

You finally admit that those things matter to you initially because... you have a crush on him. If you didn't, you'll give fuck-all if he's related to your best friend. You won't care at all if he's your boss because you don't have to worry about fantasizing about him.

But the thing is, you do have some sort of romantic feelings for him, and that is why those things moved you in a way that makes you feel and act a little weird around him.

And now there's this feeling of guilt that has overtaken your entire system. Because if you just see Jungkook platonically, these things won't happen. And you hate it, because he's genuinely a good friend. Someone who may want a friend in you too, but you are ruining it all because you have trivial feelings for him.

Absolutely ridiculous.

But now that those realizations have become clear in your head, you've made up your mind by thinking that those eggs don't matter.

It doesn't matter that he's Jimin's cousin, doesn't matter that he's an executive. You are his friend, and it's was okay to have friends that are your other friend's relative and friends who are your boss.

Of course, it's still awkward to think about him catching you in your home clothes but on a more serious note, your crush will never see the light of the day and even if it does, there's no way Jungkook will accept it because guys like him never settle with people like you. And you don't even mean that in a self-deprecating way, not at all! You are just fully aware of the practical world you live in and know that the vast disparity of your economic status will never work, especially with the kind of family he was born into.

With that said, you are ready for things to be back the way they were. No more pussyfooting in the office in fear that you'll bump into him, no more canceling on his innocent invitations to dinner, no more pining over him secretly and putting malice over everything that he does because you're going to be a renewed person now.

You're ready to take on the big shoes and be matured enough to address his questions if ever he has one.

So, you enter the elevator of Blue Nexus Inc. with a sort of spirit that you're sure will be hard to take down, creating pictures in your head that depict a smooth-sailing conversation with Jungkook where you're ideally going to be cool in it and not at all panic-y.

It's alright. Nothing is going to change—

Your thoughts are disrupted when somebody enters the elevator and the people in it suddenly start bowing their heads, a series of greetings reverberating in the confined space.

Fuck.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeon."

"Greetings, Mr. Jeon."

"Mr. Jeon."

Your eyes widen when you see Jungkook walking in with his black suit and sleek black hair, his eyeglasses sitting on his nose.

Okay, so nevermind the illusion that you're going to be cool now – you're absolutely panicking in your position!

Thank fucking god you're at the back with two persons in front of you, hoping they are enough to at least cover your frame as Jungkook stands in front after greeting back the employees inside.

Oh my god. Fuck me.

You tilt your head to the side with a wince on your face, sneakily raising your arm over your head to take your hairclip off so your hair fans your face. It is a poor attempt at covering yourself lest Jungkook suddenly turns around and recognizes you as a result.

But in that moment, you must look stupid as hell that the guy beside you looks at you weird.

You stand upright, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He just snubs you.

That makes you roll your eyes.

You go back to staring at Jungkook's back agonizing the thought that you really aren't ready at all to confront him. You thought about it all morning, but the moment he got here, all those ideations of you being cool around him from thereon are suddenly thrown out the building.

A few seconds after, somebody drops off at the 13th floor, and it starts to make you feel nervous.

What if more people start going out and then you'll be left alone with Jungkook? You intended to go to the 16th floor where your office is... Jungkook is – wait, where is his floor? You actually have no idea. But you are certain it's floors above you. Oh god! How can you possibly move past him without him recognizing you? Shit. You didn't think about that.

Now, you're starting to lose your bottle, your head not able to form ideas to get through him. The elevator is small! And people are starting to head out...

You look at the position indicator of the elevator, telling you that you're going way up to the 15th floor. A few seconds after and it dings, the elevator door opening. The guy in front of you heads way out, and you can see Jungkook still on his spot.

You find yourself not being able to move, completely stoned in your position.

You sure as hell aren't going out unless he does first! That's your solution. If he's located at the topmost floor, you're going to wait until then. You're just going to ride the elevator down again.

But what you don't see coming is Jungkook suddenly moving to head outside the elevator.

Looking at the indicator once again, you confirm if he really is going to the 15th floor.

The door already closed by the time Jungkook is finally out, which eases your nerves. You're way too relieved to forget thinking about why he's in the 15th floor.

You stop at the 16th with a smile on your face, feeling like you just got away with murder. You've never done it – get away with murder – but that's exactly how you feel.

On your way to the office, your phone vibrates from the pocket of your trousers.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [8:56am]: Correct me if I'm wrong but I think I just saw you at the elevator today

You thought of ways to dodge his bullet, thought about denying his claim and telling him that he must've seen somebody else because you work all the way across town and him seeing you would've been impossible.

But you know the attempts will be futile.

If anything, though, you take it as a sign to finally make things right.

Avoiding Jungkook will never be efficient. In order to be successful in that regard, you'll have to hand in your resignation or move out of your apartment completely and you can't do that.

Besides, for what it's worth, you kind of miss hanging out with him and if you were to continue hiding from him, you will have to say goodbye to having him around at all.

The moment you got off work today, you think of plans to talk to him and maybe, just maybe, invite him for dinner – to, hopefully, make up for all the times you've bailed on him.

With a tail tucked between your legs, you stand apprehensively in front of the door of his unit, still unsure about your plans but doing it nonetheless. There's no going back now.

You ring the doorbell, taking your hand back quickly as if you just got electrocuted by it.

Please don't answer. Please don't be home. Please don't answer—

And there he goes, in his plain white shirt and grey sweats, hair wet from his previous shower – you assume. He's still drying his hair with a towel when he opens the door, but his ministrations stop the moment he lays his eyes on you.

You just give him an awkward smile that probably look more like a grimace.

"Hi."

The surprise is evident on Jungkook's face. Regardless, he is quick to get over it and gives you a big grin instead. An expression you did not expect to get.

"__, hey," Jungkook greets, placing the towel around his neck and letting go of his doorknob. "What brings you here?"

You balance your weight on your other side and purse your lips in a thin line.

"Do you, uh, wanna grab dinner?" You ask right away, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jungkook's smile somehow grows wider at your question, and you don't know what to feel. If he's petty, he'll reject your invitation but with the look on his face right now, he doesn't seem to have the intention to do so. At least you hope so. It will be so embarrassing for you to have come all the way to his place instead of just asking him through text.

He was about to answer when somebody suddenly approaches the door.

"Jeon Jungkook?" The guy asks, and you immediately shot your eyes to look at him. With his printed shirt that reads a famous food delivery brand and his hands carrying bags of what you assumed take-out food, you figure what he's here for. "Here's your order, sir."

Embarrassed, you scoot to the side to give way to the food delivery guy and let him extend the bags towards Jungkook who grabs his wallet from the pocket of his sweats to pay for the food, thanking the man in the process.

He already has plans for tonight, you realize. Your invitation to dinner is futile because he already bought take-out.

The food delivery guy gave you a look before he took off in which you returned a timid smile for. And then, you turn around to look at Jungkook again.

"Nevermind, don't answer my question." You say, referring to your invitation prior to the arrival of his food delivery. "Uhm, bye. Good night."

You were just turning your heels to go the other way around when Jungkook suddenly speaks.

"Wait, don't go yet," Jungkook steps to the side and inserts his wallet back into his pants. He raises the bags of take-out and arches his brow towards your way, "Do you like Thai?"

"I do." You reply, not really understanding where he's getting at first.

Jungkook smiles. "Good. Do you wanna come inside?"

When you realize what he just said, you shake your head, "Oh, no, no. We could grab dinner outside tomorrow if you're free."

"This is enough for two?"

He's inviting you to his place. Is he insane?

You shake your head once again. "No, Jungkook, I really don't want to impose on—"

Jungkook cut you off with a hearty laugh.

"__, you won't be imposing. Come on, I bet you haven't had dinner yet either." When you don't answer, he insists again, "I think I have Thai tea around here somewhere."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"You think I'll go inside just 'cause you have Thai tea?" you say, raising your brow at him, challenging Jungkook to say something to that. He shrugs with a smile of amusement. Then you break your demeanor and sigh. "You're actually right. I can probably be bribed with daily boba supply."

Jungkook laughs at your absurd claim.

"No matter what's on the line?"

"Yeah," Then you decide to joke a little, "If you're the one on the line."

His laughter only becomes louder, and you shake your head at him because you genuinely wonder why he laughs so much at your nonsensical jokes. You would consider yourself funny but not that funny.

But this is good. Joking is good. This dynamic is surely better than you avoiding him.

"You're so..." Jungkook stops to look at you and you stare back at him. That moment stretches into a minute until you feel the hair on your nape stand.

It's the night air, and not at all the almost intimate way he looked into your eyes.

That's what you'll tell yourself tonight.

"I'm so what?" You decide to break the silence, seemingly snapping Jungkook out of the trance he's put himself in awhile ago.

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Okay, now you're just making me curious."

"It's nothing."

"Okay, I'm gonna let it pass this time..." you say, eliciting a low chuckle from him.

He must realize that you've both been standing on his porch for a while now.

"Come," he says, gesturing inside his place.

Your steps are a bit hesitant as you follow him inside. But nonetheless, you both get in, Jungkook offering you a pair of home slipper that are almost twice as big as your feet as he locks the door.

When you let your eyes wander, you're more than surprised to see the state of the interior.

Jungkook's place is surprisingly... clean.

Sure, it must be because there aren't any decorations or much furniture yet, but from your experiences with men, the one thing they have in common is that they are messy. It's almost impossible to not see clothes strewn all over their places or food wrappings on any surface at a corner, but Jungkook's is spotless.

Except maybe for the few boxes that stand beside the door of the room all the way across the room which you assume is his bedroom, but other than that, there's no indicator that a man is residing inside. Admittedly, it's even cleaner than your own.

"Sorry, it's a little messy. I haven't unpacked all of my stuff. Got busy."

He seems to notice you eyeing the aforementioned boxes, and hearing his words, you shake your head.

"Oh, no, trust me. This is the cleanest place I've ever seen." You say truthfully.

"Thanks." Jungkook responds with a smile.

His apartment, like yours, has an open layout so from where you are in the living room, you can see him putting the bags on the kitchen counter, unloading them and starting to transfer some of them into his own plates.

You approach his direction to find yourself useful.

"Is it okay if we eat at the coffee table? My table set hasn't arrived yet..." he rubbs the back of his head, a sheepish smile painting his face.

"It's fine."

His coffee table is wide enough for all the food to fit, anyway. That's what you thought when you bring all the food to the living room, sitting on the floorboards opposite of him.

Before you start dinner, Jungkook asks if you want to watch something on the TV.

"It's like a jumbotron." Is your throw-away comment when he turns on his huge ass TV. It's genuinely so big you aren't even exaggerating. You are not that good with estimation but the screen is probably the same height as you...

"What?" Jungkook chuckles, looking at you all confused.

"Nothing. Just that your TV is so big."

"Yeah? I wanted to buy this one for so long and I got really lucky to get it on sale here. I have the Criterion channel so I've been wanting to watch stuff with an OLED screen—" he cuts himself off and looks at you with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry."

You look away before you can go on a spiral about how cute he looked with a proud smile on his face while he was going off about how he got his jumbotron on sale. He was geeking out about a freaking TV. But you guess it makes sense for a tech guy like him.

"Uh, what do you want to watch?" He asks, going through his streaming services.

The big TV and the streaming services just click so much in the context of him. You, in contrast, cannot relate. After forgetting to unsubscribe to Netflix a few months ago, it automatically stole the thirteen thousand won from your account, and since then, you're more than traumatized to pay for any streaming services until today. Pirating is bad but so is capitalism.

"Anything is fine."

"Okay."

You really couldn't have cared less about what he's going to click on, but National Geographic pops up on his big screen and you think he must be joking but he starts tuning in with genuine interest.

Oh. Wow.

He's just a big nerd trapped in a hot human body, huh?

How cute. And how unbelievably hot to discover this about him.

After a few minutes into the documentary, it turns out that whales are interesting to a certain degree. Sure, Jungkook's huge ass screen made it a little funny because the pictures are too big, but they did pique your interest a little, especially when Jungkook would add in a little of his own knowledge about them. When you asked him about the weird little stick thing on their mouth, he told you that they were tusks and only male narwhals had them, and that they used it as some sort of sensory tool. He admitted he hyperfixated on whales for a while when he saw them first on Discovery Channel as a kid.

You didn't even have to pretend to be engrossed, you were just in genuine awe of his interests and how enthusiastic he was about sharing them.

Food is starting to run out, making you realize that it's been awhile since you've eaten Thai food and you should probably eat them once again tomorrow.

You're just about to ask Jungkook which restaurant he got it from when he beats you to speaking first.

"You're still in your work clothes."

You stop.

"Yeah..."

And then you're reminded of why you're here in the first place.

It isn't for the whales or for Thai food, that's for sure.

You haven't changed out of your work clothes, indeed, since you planned going out for dinner in hopes of talking to Jungkook while ago. The night is going so well so far that you actually forgot about that. But then since he already cocked the gun, might as well just pull the trigger and get it over with.

You look at him, an uneasy feeling settling in your nerves.

"So... about your text earlier."

There is a hint of a smile on Jungkook's lips when he nods his head.

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't me." You say, trying to look for a reaction, trying to see if he'll insist or anything.

But Jungkook just nods his head again.

"I see."

He does not seem to see, though, and you know right then and there that your cover is finally and officially blown.

"Okay, I lied. That was me." You take back your words, jutting your bottom lip out when you add, "Turns out we work at the same company. And that you're apparently my boss."

"And you're my cousin's girlfriend."

You gasp audibly.

So he knows you were at that party! How? And what? He thought you were Jimin's girlfriend for real? Wait, does he not know it was all Jimin's ruse?

"How did you know that?"

"They mentioned Jimin's girlfriend was in the bathroom when I arrived. I asked Jimin about it and he told me her name was __."

You would face-palm yourself if Jungkook wasn't present.

Ugh. Of course, Jimin doesn't know.

"Well, okay, just so you know, I was a paid actress." You tell Jungkook, which earns you a laugh from him. Then you cover your mouth, realizing you shouldn't have said that. "Oh—uhm, do you know...?" You trail off, looking at him expectantly and hoping he knows what you meant.

You swear you remember Jimin telling you that Jungkook knows about him being gay, but now you are second-guessing yourself and you will be in trouble if you did slip up.

Thankfully, Jungkook nods, seemingly understanding where you're getting at.

"Don't worry, I know." You heave a sigh of relief at his verbal confirmation. Jungkook takes the tom yum goong and started peeling the shrimp from the bowl, continuing to say, "And Jimin brings a fake date to every family gathering, so I knew right away he was lying about dating somebody," Jungkook chuckles, and as if an afterthought, he adds, "I wish I could've seen you act. You two left so early."

Well... you did play a role in that, you think. But you can't tell him you purposefully didn't go back to the table that night because you saw him.

"Oh, Jimin had to send Joon off at the airport." You say, which is actually true. For a change.

He nods. "His boyfriend, yeah... did he go to Italy with him?"

You wonder how he knows about the Italy thing. Jimin, probably. They're close after all—

"Namjoon's a close friend as well." Jungkook adds, as if having read your thoughts.

"Ah," you nod, not surprised at all about their apparent link.

Wealthy people do have a tiny world.

"Jimin hasn't actually contacted me yet since that night."

It has been a few days, and you're starting to think he's dead or something. Your calls go straight to voicemail and your messages do not send. You've sent him a few on social media as well but it seems like he hasn't been online at all.

"I'm worried about him. Has Namjoon said anything?" You look at Jungkook, hoping he'll say yes.

But he shakes his head instead.

"I wouldn't be worried, though. I think they're together."

"In Italy?"

"Yeah."

You won't be surprised if that's the case. Jimin is the king of spontaneity and if he did fly off to another country abruptly with his boyfriend, you won't question it.

You do miss him though and you're gonna make sure to make him feel bad for not telling you anything soon.

"You're right." You sigh.

Jungkook has been peeling shrimp for awhile now, setting them aside in a small bowl. You think he's gonna eat it himself, but you're surprised when he slides off the bowl to your direction.

"There. I noticed you weren't eating the tom yum. You don't like it?" Jungkook asks, smiling at you.

You can't help it; blood rushes to your cheeks at the realization that he just peeled shrimps for you.

Is this normal for him? Like, does he just go around and do things like these for friends?

You will scream in your bathroom later when you get home.

"Oh, no, uh... I'm actually allergic to shrimp." You give him a tight-lipped smile.

You feel bad at the way Jungkook's expression drops as soon as you said that.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't know," He takes the small bowl quickly and looks at you apologetically.

"No, it's fine! I didn't tell you either."

"I'm really sorry. I should've asked first."

"Jungkook," you chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you, anyway."

"I could've done serious damage to you, huh?"

"Yeah, you'd have to tell Jimin you killed me because you fed me shrimp."

"Don't say that," Jungkook laughs. "How long are you friends now, by the way?"

You nip on your chopsticks, answering him.

"We've been friends since college... so almost ten years."

"That's really nice."

And then you remember to ask, "Did you tell him?"

"What?"

"That you know me?"

"No. Not yet, at least. Didn't have the chance." Jungkook proceeds to eat the shrimp himself and you have to keep yourself from letting out a breath of relief at his answer. "Did you tell him?"

"No. Uh— I know this is weird. But... can you not tell him?" You ask. Jungkook looks at you for a bit, studying your face. You clear your throat when seconds passed and he still hasn't said anything. "It's just that I want to tell him on my own time." You decide to add.

"Okay." He says after a while, smiling.

Thank god he doesn't ask any more questions.

"Thanks."

And now there's another elephant in the room that you still need to address.

A bit hesitant, you open with, "Did you uhm..." You think about how to word it, but then you think, fuck it. "Did you know by that time at the party that I work at Blue Nexus?"

Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, I saw you at the company and only put two and two together."

Your brows furrow. "When?"

"Uh... earlier this morning."

"Oh. Yeah..."

You don't know exactly why, but you feel a tinge of disappointment that he meant earlier. You really thought he recognized you at the ceremony.

But then you shake the feeling off and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "Why didn't you tell me about the party, then?"

"Why, did you see me there?"

You shut your mouth. Right. You're supposed to pretend you didn't seen him that time.

"No." You lie.

"So I thought it didn't matter... though I was pretty surprised when I saw you today."

"Ugh, I thought I hid myself pretty well." You lament dramatically, embarrassed that you really thought covering your face with your hair would do you any good.

"Nah," Jungkook shakes his head while laughing at your misery, "I thought, "who is this five-foot woman hiding in the back","

"Wow." You gasp, not believing his audacity. But you're also thankful that he makes talking to him so easy. The way your conversations goes from funny to serious is so seamless, all because Jungkook knows exactly how to turn the wheels around.

"Kidding. I actually recognized you by your blouse..." he gestures at your baby blue polo sleeves, making you furrow your brows, not quite sure how he meant. But then, he continues, "Did the ink ever come off?"

Oh. Right! He had seen you wear the blouse before and even heard you tell him the story about how the jammed printer caused a blot of ink to stain your cuff.

You're surprised he even remembers that. It seems so long ago.

Raising your arm to examine the cuff area of your blouse, you look at it with small amusement.

"Yeah, it did, actually."

"How did you do it?"

You deadpan, "You're not asking me how I do my laundry, Jungkook."

"Hey, I love doing laundry," You raise your brow, not believing him, but Jungkook insists. "No, I really do."

"Okay." You nod, chuckling because he really seems way too eager to prove to you that he loves doing laundry.

What you've found out about him so far is so... mesmerizing, to say the least. With how he looks like – you meant, the tattoos and the body – you would most likely assume he likes guy stuff. You know, big macho man stuff like that. But turns out, he's just a guy who likes big TVs and NatGeo and... laundry.

He's such a fascinating person.

"I'm also not your boss." Jungkook suddenly says, making you look up at him.

"Well, you're CTO, you technically are." You point out.

"Technically, yes. But I don't oversee the accounting department, so you're not really working for me, which means I'm not your boss."

The mental gymnastics make you frown but you get his point.

"Okay, that's true. But still... your father is Mr. Jeon."

"Would you believe me if I denied that?" He jokes, the tilt in his voice telling you he is.

"You kind of look the same, so I probably wouldn't believe you."

"Really? A lot of people say I look more like my mother..."

You've seen the pictures. It's more of a split, really. But you can't tell him that obviously.

Silence sits in his living room for a while, the NatGeo narrator serving as background noise at this point.

You drop your chopsticks down and sigh. Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows, worried about your sudden seriousness.

"So, you're not like weirded out about this whole thing?" You ask him straight to the point.

Joking is good, as you said. And this night is going better than you thought. But it feels like you are just glossing over the facts, and you need to address it with him lest it becomes a problem in the future. You don't know how exactly they are going to be; you just have a feeling in your heart that they are going to.

"The what?" Jungkook says, looking genuinely confused, as if he doesn't know what your deal is.

"The I'm-your-cousin's-best-friend? And the fact that you're an executive at the company I work at and we live in the same building?" You lay out, sounding exasperated now that you're taking it all out.

Jungkook stares at you for a bit.

"Why would that weird me out?"

He isn't being dense, you can see that. He's just plain confused.

You sigh once again. Seems like you've been doing a lot of that these past few days.

"Because it's just... too many eggs in the basket."

Jungkook chuckles, wiping his hands with a tissue. "Isn't it good you have many eggs in the basket?"

You glare at him, and it makes him raise his hands as a peace offering.

"It's bad because..."

"... because?" Jungkook, now with his hands clean, props an elbow on the coffee table, looking right into your eyes as he leans closer to your direction.

You look away.

"Because it means I can't hang out with you anymore."

When you look at him again, the smile is wiped off his face, suddenly exchanged with a frown.

"Why?"

"Because again, it's too many eggs in the basket and—" Running out with metaphors, you say the first thing that was off the top of your head, "That makes you my uncle."

Jungkook's jaw drops a bit.

"Your thought process really amazes me."

You grimace, already expecting that. "Thanks, I get that a lot."

"No, it's really... interesting."

He doesn't look judgmental at all, just full of genuine awe, but you're eager to come to your own defense and so you say, "You don't get it? It's like—" You fling your hands around, trying to explain what you just said. "You don't have a close relationship with your uncle, right? 'Cause it's awkward. When you're with them it's like being with your boss, which means you can't be friends with them 'cause, again, it's awkward."

Jungkook still looks like he doesn't know what the hell you're talking about, but he nods his head, nonetheless.

"Okay... but I have a very close relationship with the CEO..."

You pout. "That's not what I meant."

And when he chuckles at that, you know he's fucking with you and understand exactly what you were trying to say; fooling around as if you aren't having an internal crisis.

Jungkook must've seen how you're genuinely not finding anything funny and stops.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me the past few days?" He raises his brow, but his voice is gentle as he speaks.

You didn't think he'd confront you about that, but you decide to look away when you try to lie as an answer.

"No...?"

Jungkook only chuckle at your indignation.

"Okay, okay, let's divide and conquer, yeah?" He smiles at you. Warm and soft. "First, you're Jimin's best friend, what's the issue? It just means you must be a good person to hang around with because you're friends with the person I'm close to. Second, I'm not your boss, will you please stop saying that? And third, we're neighbors... so what? We just happened to rent in the same building. No big deal."

Your frown just gets deeper at what he said because... he's right. So right.

You overreacted the whole time you tried to hide from him.

With nothing else to add, you weakly ask, "Okay but... can you fire me?"

In your head, it's a relevant question. You don't know how the chain of command worked at the company. He's an executive which probably means he has firing rights, right? What if he finds you too rude towards him over the past few days that he wants to take your job away from you? Can he fire you because of personal vendetta?

"Asking the important question?" Jungkook teases.

"Damn straight, I am. I mean, I did complain to you about my job before, and it turns out you're one of the executives at the company."

"I can see the wheels in your head turning but sorry to say I'm not actually an official executive. I'm just an interim CTO. And no, I don't have the right to fire you," Jungkook chuckles, seemingly amused at your thoughts. "And you can complain to me about your job all you want."

You send him a suspicious look.

"No, thank you."

"Seriously?" He asks incredulously. "Interim CTO or Jimin's cousin or not, I'm still Jeon Jungkook. Just your plain ol' neighbor."

"You say that but what if I arrive to my desk tomorrow with my things packed because you told Ms. Jung all the things I told you about her?" You squint your eyes at him.

"God, you're unbelievable." Jungkook says in between his laughter.

"Okay, but I wanna ask you something." You say. Jungkook hums. "I'm curious... why here?"

It isn't like your apartment complex is abominable or anything of the sort. When you were still on the look-out of apartments five years ago, here was the only decent one that did not cause you a 3-month pay. It's why you chose it in the first place. The unit is big enough for yourself and it's located at the center of the city, which means that it's near establishments that are relevant to your daily living. The bus station is also just a few minutes walk, and it only takes you an hour commute to get to your company building. It was the best out of all your choices back then.

However, for a guy like Jungkook, you wonder why he isn't at the big shot complexes like in Cheongdam or Hannam. You don't doubt he can afford those.

But Jungkook surprises you with his answer.

"It's cheaper."

You can't help but raise your brow.

"What?" And then as if realizing your look, Jungkook chuckles. "Oh, I see... you think I'm, like, rich?"

You shrug.

Jungkook answer with a simple, "My parents are loaded. And anyway, it's near the company. I also really like it here so far. Hannam felt like prison when I stayed there in my first week. Guards were way too strict."

Nodding, you recall Jimin's stories about that gated community when he himself stayed there for merely three months. It makes sense for it to almost seem like prison, though, given that most people who live there are high profile.

"I commute on my way to work. What about you?"

"I bought a parking spot nearby; it's surprisingly cheap compared to America."

You wouldn't know because you've never had a car in your life. First of all, you refuse to apply for a driving license because you're sure you'll kill yourself on the road. Besides, cars are expensive. You'll stick to your buses and trains all your life even though commuting sucks ass sometimes.

But you nod at Jungkook's words.

Soon, you both engage in more conversation about yourselves until you notice the time.

"It's getting late, I should go. I have work tomorrow." You tell him with a pout, genuinely disappointed about having to go.

Jungkook looks over at the clock hanging on his wall and then turns to you, "We have work tomorrow, you mean."

You blush at that for no reason.

"Well..."

"Okay, I'll walk you to your place."

"What?" You laugh. "That's ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous about it? You're so short, the crickets might attack you." Jungkook says with a serious face.

That makes you frown instantly.

"Ugh, you've got to stop saying that. I'm starting to dislike you."

"Hmm."

Jungkook indeed followed you on your way out, though, but not without you insisting that he didn't need to walk you to your door because it was literally just across his, but Jungkook was persistent and you had no choice but to walk the five steps it took to get in front of your apartment from his own.

He's still laughing when your face is still contorted into an unpleasant expression.

"Okay, good night." You say. You point to his chest absent-mindedly, but you quickly take it back when you feel how hard it is. "A-and stop calling me short, I'm not. The __ karma is real, I have Jimin to prove that."

"Fine, I'll stop." Jungkook smiles, watching as you enter your threshold.

"Good."

You stand on your door, leaning over the frame and not closing it just yet.

Jungkook gives you a heart-warming smile before he says, "See you tomorrow."

And he speaks the words so gently that you feel your cheeks heating once again.

"S-see you as well."

"You look banging in that polo shirt." Jimin says, obviously chatting you up because the moment you accepted his call earlier this morning, you did not hesitate to tell him off about going MIA on you so suddenly.

"It's literally just a plain white polo."

"Okay, and you still look good in it, so..." He shrugs, but you can see the look on his face, sheepish and apologetic.

You scoff.

"You can't compliment me out of sulking. I'm mad at you."

There's a pout that forms on his lips quickly; a tactic so predictable you almost roll your eyes.

"I know... but I told you! Joon and I spent the last week—"

"Fucking each other to Sunday and back, blah blah blah. Still, you could've told me you went to Italy, you slut."

Jimin lets out a loud laugh at your blunt words.

"Slut shaming in the big year of 2028? I thought you were better than that." He shakes his head, pretending to be pointed and curt with the bitchy look on his face. But you know he's just teasing to get you out of your own bitchy mode as well.

It works every time.

You don't fight the way your eyes roll on their own accord as a response this time. Jimin compromises, "Okay, I'm sorry! For not telling. It's just that I've turned off my phone for the past week because I'm sure dad and his secretary are going to blow up my phone— they are, by the way, so cut me some slack."

Forgiveness comes easy when you take into consideration what he's been through for the past few weeks. The spontaneous trip to Italy and him flying along with his boyfriend may come off as immature, but you know deep inside he's just wanting to get away from the reality of his life: which is pretty much toxic family with incredibly high expectations and boring ass management school.

You are certain they are giving him shit, and you don't need to add more to that.

It's 7:20 and you're currently prepping for work. Privacy is almost moot in your friendship with Jimin, so you're quite literally dressing up in front of him on call, sweeping your hair to the side as you pull up your trousers.

"Okay... are you having fun there?" You ask instead.

Jimin smiles a knowing grin. "Babe, I just told you me and my boyfriend are having sex 24/7 in here, I'm having the most fun in my life."

You button your trousers and groan at his words.

"I wish I was also in Italy."

"I mean, you could."

You give him a look.

"And what? Third wheel you and Joon? No thanks."

Jimin just shrugs, the angle of his camera going shaky for a bit as he moves to lay on what you assume is his bed.

"I don't know, girl, maybe you'll find a nice Italian man here."

That earns him a snort from you while you duck to wear your sandals.

"I've long forgotten that fantasy since I was 19."

"You're not a stranger to relapsing..." Jimin clocks and that makes you shoot up straight so he can see the look of incredulity on your face as an immediate reaction to what he just said.

"Rude!"

Jimin just snorts. "Okay but for real, how are things going over there for you?"

You sigh. "Same old, same old. Pretty and single and working a very boring job."

Your best friend can't help but mirror the wince on your face.

"You could change the last two but never the first one, babe. So, you see, you're still miles ahead." He says as a matter of fact, sounding like he's giving out some sort of motivational speech.

"Lucky me," you noted with a straight face. You start rummaging your bag to see if you got everything you need. Then, there's something at the tip of your tongue. Something you've been wanting to open up to him. So, you start by clearing your throat – subtly, you hope.

"But you know, life's pretty... eventful the past few days."

Jimin quirks his eyebrow at that, obviously catching onto what could possibly be a new news.

You bite your lower lip, nibbling on it slightly as you contemplate whether to tell him about what you've been up to.

For some weird reason, you still haven't told him about Jungkook, and it seems like Jungkook has made good on his promise not to tell your best friend because if he did break it, Jimin would be inquiring you all about it now.

You figure now is sort of the perfect time to... maybe tell him.

"Uh, well... not eventful, per se, just a little..." you trailed off, finding a bit of uncertainty in your voice. You see Jimin's face morphing into more of a confused look rather than intrigued as the second passes. Pursing your lips into a thin line, you finish your previous sentence with, "Just a little different, I guess."

"Don't edge me, I swear to god." Jimin threatens playfully, making you chuckle.

"It's not something groundbreaking, okay? It's just the, uh, do you still remember Mr—"

The yawn that Jimin lets out stops you from completing your words, and you remember him mentioning a while ago that it's currently midnight from where he is.

"Ugh," Jimin groans, "Sorry, I slept so late yesterday. Anyway, go on, what were you saying?"

The uncertainty you felt a while ago increases, and you decide that maybe, now is so not the perfect time to bring up Jungkook, his cousin.

So, you shake your head, smiling at him, packing the words of your confession in a box that that you place at the back of your head, ready for unpacking when the time calls for it – which you don't exactly know when.

"Nah, go to sleep. This conversation can wait."

"You're gonna kill me with curiosity."

Rolling your eyes, you make a gesture of shoving him.

"I have to catch up with my bus soon, anyway." You say, dodging his insistence.

"Just tell me pretty please, I won't be able to sleep!" He dramatically says.

You roll your eyes again at the theatrics.

"It's really nothing big."

Well, it is. Sort of. Or maybe it's not, and you're just doing that thing again where you put too much thought over something inconsequential.

You swear you were ready to tell him about Jungkook, having even hyped yourself in the bathroom a few days ago and practicing what you're going to tell Jimin. But as of this moment, right now, it suddenly feels... unimportant. Not in a negative way. Just in a... does-it-really-matter way.

Jimin will find out eventually. But not now when you're not totally ready.

"I know what this is," Jimin suddenly says. At his suspicious tone, your heart starts to pick up the rate of its beat. You can see the way Jimin squints his eyes at you, and you wish he doesn't see the way you're slightly frozen. "You got back with your ex, Hansung."

You hope he sees the disgust on your face the moment he let out the words.

"Oh my god, hell no!" Is your instant response. Just hearing that name again made the hairs on your nape rise. "Jimin, what the fuck."

Jimin rolls his eyes. "You look so nervous, that's how you look like when you're about to tell me you've done something stupid."

Okay, fair. The assumption is coming from a valid basis. It makes you frown at him.

"You're such a bitch." Jimin laughs at the way you deflate. You let out a sign. "It's just... Taemu. From the IT dep."

"That guy?!" He exclaims and quickly covers his mouth. "The cute guy you refused to date a second time... you're finally dating him again?"

"What do you mean, finally?" You narrow your eyes at him, surprise at the positive comment about Taemu. "Jesus, I thought you were with me when I said I found him boring."

"What can I say? He can be cute and boring." He points out, as if he did not talk behind the Taemu's back when you ranted about the guy to him.

"You're fake as hell." You laugh, unbelieving.

Jimin joins your laughter, finding his sudden switch up funny as well.

"But you're, for real, dating him again? It means he still likes you?" He asks, obviously intrigued at this newfound information.

Unfortunately, it's a bit of a lie. You feel bad, but it is a great scapegoat to dodge the bullet of the conversation about Jungkook.

"I don't know... we're talking."

Which, for once, is true. Taemu and you did not exactly end on a good note (courtesy to you, boo), but you work in the same company, after all. There are times in the company's cafeteria where you bump into him, and it would have felt weird if you just snub him and act like you did not have an acquaintanceship before he asked you out to a date. Taemu's ultimately still your friend, and there are no hard feelings on his part, you can confidently say. He's... nice, you guess. Somehow of an afterthought. You're starting to think you completely misjudged him on your first date.

You take a quick trip to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water since Jimin is on loudspeaker anyway.

"That reminds me," Jimin suddenly quips. You hum to acknowledge him. "My cousin now works at your company, right? You still remember Jungkook? Have you met him yet?"

You couldn't help it; the water splattered all over the place when you heard Jungkook's name from his mouth.

Jimin quickly asks you a series of "are you okays" and you respond with a "yes" that's interrupted with a cough every time; a weak nod with a raised hand, telling him not to worry.

"Water just got in the wrong track." You reason, coughing and slapping your chest to regain your breathing. When you see wet spots on your shirt, you let out a whiny groan.

"You're so jumpy today. You're sure you're fine?" Jimin checks once again, and you have to bite your tongue to not show the way you froze a little at his observation.

You nod at him, showing him an expression that hopefully conveys he's the one being weird and definitely not you.

"Yeah, it's fine." You look down on your shirt. You're debating whether to stick with it and just let it dry in the bus later or completely change out of it. "But uh, your cousin! I did see him. We had a ceremony a week ago."

You would've said that with a smile, but Jimin knows you too well that he'll surely know it's fake. So, you spoke with an almost straight face. What Jimin says next surprises you a bit, though.

"I hope you meet each other," Jimin's excitement is visible on his face. "It'd be kinda fun; my closest cousin and my best friend... imagine that? I think you'll like each other." He seems to be so geeked about the idea that even when you're internally having a crisis, you can't help but find it cute. But then his smile gets wiped off his lips just as quickly as it showed. "It'd be awkward, though. He's, kinda like, your boss, right?"

You suddenly remember Jungkook's words about him not being your boss. It makes your lips curl, but you have to shake off the thought.

You give him a hesitant look.

"Well, not really, but he's an executive. So... it would be awkward. I guess."

Jimin nods, agreeing with you.

"It's crazy though, I never thought he'd be working at uncle's company so soon..." He trails off and he looks deep in thought, like his words were just supposed to be inner thoughts and you're not supposed to hear them. But he shakes his head after a while, moving on to another subject that makes you quietly sigh in relief. "Anyway, I'm sure I'm keeping you up. I'll sleep and you better tell me all about Kang Taemu when I wake up, okay?"

You chuckle, shaking your head at the threatening tone of his voice.

"I will. When will you come home, anyway?"

He groans, obviously not wanting to discuss home for the reasons you know exactly what. He confirms your assumption by telling so.

"Honestly, I don't know. I'm trying to avoid responsibilities as much as I can. God, I wish you were also here. There's a bar Joon and I discovered that sells these insane bottomless mimosas."

Before you could reply, Jimin goes off the frame suddenly, but the lower part of his face makes you see the way his lips curling up into a smile and saying, "Hey, hon."

There's a greeting from another person on the other end of the line – one that you are certainly familiar with.

Jimin moves his camera and as expected, you see Namjoon waving at you.

"Hey, __,"

You mirror the smile on his face. "Hi, Joon."

"Let's not keep her up. She has to go to work," Jimin tells Namjoon. "Anyway, bye. Kick some ass at work."

Laughing, you tell them, "I'll be off. Good night to you both."

When the call ends, you look down to your shirt once again, seeing that the little wet spots still haven't dried yet. Sighing, you decide to change out of it because it looked untidy.

Too bad you didn't check the time when you were doing it though, because as soon as you were done buttoning the new shirt you've worn, the clock hits 7:55 am. You bus arrives at exactly 8 am.

"Shit." You hiss, scrambling out of the apartment hoping that you can somehow run your way fast to the station and hop on it on time.

But you're no The Flash or Usain Bolt. To piss you off more, the strap of your bag got caught up with the handle of your door.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You whisper, hastily untangling the strap off the door which won't let up.

"__?" As soon as you hear the familiar voice, you stop with what you were doing and turn to Jungkook, conjuring up a what you can only hope a pleasant enough smile.

"Hey!" You say, chirpy in that weird way. You hope he didn't catch you cursing the door.

But with the way he was looking at your hand on your door, you knew he did.

Sigh. He just really has to catch you in your most vulnerable moments, huh?

"Good morning," Jungkook greets with a smile, ignoring the case at hand. As usual, he looks put together with his sleek suit and styled hair and eyeglasses.

"Morning," You say, slowly taking off the strap around the handle, gentle and slower this time.

Fucking door handle, you thought bitterly.

As you do that, you catch a glimpse of your wristwatch. Shoot.

You look back at Jungkook apologetically, moving away from your porch. "Nice seeing you. I have to catch my bus."

"When is it coming?"

"At exactly... two minutes from now. Bye! Gotta run!" You were about ready to literally run but Jungkook calls out your name.

"Wait!"

You stop coming down the flight of stairs to ask him, "What?"

"I can drive us together there."

"Oh," You slap your hands on your trousers. "That's so nice of you. Thank you—" And then suddenly, his words register, and you take back your quick agreement. You hate that you're so slow sometimes, but it's innate at this point. "I mean, no! That's a nice offer, but no, thank you."

"You won't catch your bus at this point," Jungkook says as a matter of fact, even taking a quick glance at his own watch. He begins to walk down the stairs to walk with you. "It only takes thirty minutes to drive by car to the company." When it takes you long to answer, Jungkook insists, already predicting the "no" that you're going to hit him with. "Come on, do you want to be late?"

"No."

Jungkook smiles at you. "Okay, so...?"

You purse your lips into a thin line, blowing your bangs and giving him a sheepish look.

"Okay, fine. But I owe you."

The smile on his face only grows wider. "More than fine by me."

He leads you both to the parking building nearby where his car was, only taking about a few minutes to walk towards.

When Jungkook points at his car, you follow his behind him shortly, stopping on the one side of the door. You're just about to open it when you feel Jungkook looming behind you, his hand extended forward to open the same door. You stretch your neck to look at him in question, making sure to keep a decent distance between you both.

"Uh...?" You utter.

And then it hits you.

He's trying to open the door for you.

You take a step back after the realization, feeling shy about the prospect of such a chivalrous act from him.

"This is the driver's seat."

"Oh!" You exclaimed. Eyes widening, you walk backwards to give him more space. "Yeah! Fuck... sorry," You apologize, cheeks starting to heat in embarrassment.

You round about the car and enter the passenger seat quickly, seeing Jungkook already set in his own place. You look to the side, almost pressing yourself to the window just so he won't see the way you wince.

So fucking embarrassing. This is exactly what you write about in your diary during high school days.

"Your seatbelt," Jungkook says, and you look at him with widened eyes. Right. You were way too deep in embarrassment that you forgot about it. You fiddle with the seatbelt a few seconds before he speaks once again, "Let me."

And you couldn't have stopped him from leaning closer to you to grab the seatbelt and wear it around your waist, carefully and gently, making you hitch your breath at the sudden proximity.

Of course you've noticed it way before, but this is the first time you were close enough to deduce that he smells like green apple and fresh laundry. A little different from the musky scent that you were used to smelling on men that you've been with before.

"There." He smiles at you before sitting back on his chair, wearing his own seatbelt.

You are way too stunned to acknowledge what he did that for the first few minutes, you're just quiet, mind flying to some place. You only snap out of it when Jungkook speaks again.

"Slept late last night?"

You shake your head at his question. "No... just facetime with Jimin this morning. You were right to tell me not to worry, he's with Joon."

Jungkook nods at your words, turning the ignition of the car. He starts to reverse, and you feel yourself growing embarrassingly hot when he does the thing of putting his arm around the back of your seat while the other spins the wheel, stretching his neck to look back.

You decide to look away for your own sake.

"Uh, anyway, I'm really sorry."

"Hm?" Jungkook hums, eyes on the road as he starts driving.

If you think about it, you were just at his place a few nights ago eating dinner with him, and now, you somehow find yourself in his car as he drives you both to work. His constant kindness is not lost on you... but Jungkook's casualty makes it seem like this is just his plain nature.

You quirk your head to the side.

"Are you free later for lunch?"

"I can arrange my sched. Why?"

"Do you want to go together?" You ask. You'd say the offer is a form of compensation for his help today, but getting lunch together for the pure sake of it doesn't sound bad, either. Both works, so you're only a bit hopeful as you try to look for his reaction.

Jungkook has a hint of surprise on his face when he takes a quick look at you before turning his attention back on the road.

"Really?" There's a little lilt to his voice, as if he's not surer if you're being serious.

You shrug to appear casual. "If you're not too busy, that is."

He shakes his head, smiling. "Where are we going?"

"You're gonna find out later." You tell him. Jungkook cocks his head to the side, intrigued.

"Okay... where should I meet you, then? At your office?"

"Oh, god, no." Is your quick response. Jungkook immediately looks at you in offense, but it's more like amusement when he stares longer. At that, you wave your hand so he doesn't get the wrong idea. "No, no, I mean— it's just rude if an executive, like, comes to our office."

"You're still not hung up on the boss thing?" You roll your eyes at his teasing tone which earns a hearty chuckle from Jungkook. He shakes his head playfully at you. "I doubt anyone would care."

You jut your bottom lip out because he's probably right. But still, your co-workers would ask, and you're not trying to dig yourself a hole by making yourself news of the day because the newly appointed interim CTO just walked into your office for what? Lunch? The HR would have a field day.

"Maybe we can meet at the parking lot?" You offer, thinking it's the sensible place.

Jungkook smiles. "Alright."

You had to stay behind Joonhwi and Sol as lunch came, making an excuse about going out with a friend as opposed to not coming with them. In your head, you think you were doing Joonhwi a favor.

After that, you were welcomed with text from Jungkook when you turned on your phone. It said he was already at the basement where he parked earlier, so it wasn't exactly hard to spot him right away the moment you got there.

The drive to your destination was quick enough to only amount to around fifteen minutes. As soon as Jungkook managed to park his car somewhere, you lead him to where the place you'd chosen for lunch.

When he finally registered where you were, his amusement does not go unnoticed.

"I've always wanted to go here," He tells you, looking around the stores in-line by the street.

You look back at him in surprise.

"You haven't been here?" Jungkook nods and you want to ask him if he's kidding around, but then you realize he's no ordinary person like most of the people you know in your life, recalling that Jimin's first time in a marketplace like this was only when you introduced him to it during sophomore year. "But you eat street food, right?" You ask him, even though you know he does. You did spend nights on that food truck around your building.

"Of course I do," Jungkook chuckles, rubbing a hand at the back of his head, seemingly shy. "I just never tried it here."

You give him a wide grin. "You're gonna enjoy it here. Follow me, I have a favorite store here that sells really good hotteok."

You spent the better part of the morning thinking about the place where you can bring him, opting out of going to cafes and restaurant because it was just getting kind of old. Aside from the fact that you stopped going to the food truck across your apartment building, it's also been a while since you enjoyed some street food yourself. You're also delighted to know that this is apparently Jungkook's first time going here.

The area is usually livelier in the later hours of the night, but there are still a lot of people by lunch time. Students, civilians, tourists... a usual day in Seoul, you can say.

When you reach the hotteok stall, you ask for your usual right away, almost asking the same thing for Jungkook but remember that he might actually want something else.

"Do you want other flavors instead?" You look back at him while he stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. He's forgone the coat – it's somewhere in his car seat – which left him with his usual polo shirt, sleeves folded up to his forearms. He kind of looks broody with his stance and you know... the exposed tattoos – but he looks adorable when he gives you that familiar easy-going smile at your question.

"I'll have whatever you're having."

You're hungry for a while now so you don't wait a long time to take a bite of the hotteok when it's finally served. It's hot, and Jungkook laughs as you learn it the hard way, sputtering as you move the food away from you.

"Fuck!" You curse, blowing air and fanning your mouth which doesn't really do anything.

"Slow down," Jungkook says in between his chuckles. You feel his arm resting on your back as some sort of support. "I'll get you some water."

It only takes him a few seconds to stop by a nearby stall to get you some bottled water, and you thank him after drinking it quickly.

"Sorry 'bout that," You apologize, smiling sheepishly.

"There's a—" Jungkook gestures at his mouth. You arch your brow at him, a bit confused. He tries again. "Something in your—" He interrupts himself, shaking his head, and takes out a handkerchief from the depths of his slacks.

Your immediate reaction is to take a few steps back when he goes to wipe at your mouth. Jungkook stops, pausing his movement. You give him an awkward thumbs up which prompts him to continue.

"Done."

You choose to gloss over that occurrence, taking another bite of hotteok after that.

"You know I always wondered why I don't see you going out of your apartment every morning." You start a conversation while you walk together mindlessly.

"You wonder... why?" Jungkook looks at you for a brief moment. With a teasing grin, he says, "You wanna see me every day?"

You gasp.

"Gross, Jungkook." You say, absolutely scandalized at what he said.

He just laughs, shaking his head, amused at your reaction. It makes you roll your eyes.

"I just figured you don't commute so you don't need to leave early." You tell him.

You notice he seems to be extra playful today.

"Oh, yeah, that's right."

"Lucky you. I'm so sick of commuting."

"You don't like driving?"

You shake your head, "I don't know how to drive, and I don't have any intention to."

"I think I've heard that from Joon before." Jungkook chuckles.

"Oh yeah, he told me one time he'll most probably kill himself if he drives. Which– same."

Jungkook bites on his hotteok, chews on it for a while before saying, "That's what I thought when I started to drive a motorcycle."

You almost snap your head to look at him.

"You drive a motorcycle?" You ask, just to be sure you heard him right.

Jungkook nods. "Hm."

"Oh, wow... that must be..." You trail off, looking blankly ahead of you.

Well, now you can't get it out of your head. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with his tattoos out. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with a leather jacket.

Ugh. You told yourself you were gonna forget about the stupid crush! This is so counterproductive. There's nothing special about a man who drives a motorcycle! Not at all.

"Must be...?" Jungkook curiously asks you.

"Nerve-wracking." You say, which you think is a fair answer. He doesn't have to know that you're thinking about a totally different thing.

He nods. "It was for the first time. Mom always gives me an earful whenever I use it." He shakes his head while laughing.

You can't help but ask.

"You're close with your mom?" It only registers to you that the question must be way too privy, but Jungkook doesn't seem to think so as he answers casually right away.

"Yeah. She was really glad when I came home."

You smile. You once thought he's close with his family... turns out you aren't exactly wrong.

"That's sweet."

He just gives you a soft smile. "You?"

"Oh, me? She, uh, died awhile ago. So."

The smile on Jungkook's face falters.

"That... sucks."

"Thanks." And then it makes you laugh. "You know most people say sorry. You're the first one to say it sucks."

"I..." Jungkook seems to track back on what he said. "I mean, I'm sorry, of course. But it must suck, right? I just... love my mom a lot. Can't imagine losing her."

You nod, completely understanding where he's coming from.

All your life, people have always felt sorry for you for losing your mom, your only parent. Of course, you're thankful for the sympathy, but sometimes... you just need someone to be real with it. Someone to say it sucks – because losing a parent is hard. Losing a mother suck.

"You're not so bad, Jungkook." you comment after a while, and as you take a quick look at Jungkook, you see him in another light. The same light you see a person in when you figure you want to befriend them and be in their life.

"What do you mean by that?" Jungkook asks with an arched brow.

You shake your head, smile not going away.

"Nothing!"

Jungkook annoyed you some more about it and you had to laugh at his curiosity because it was funny the way he insisted about something really inconsequential. Even when you went to another stall to buy some drinks, he still tried to bring up the same thing, but you're more stubborn than him so of course his efforts did not bear any fruit.

After a while, you sit on some bench while you eat tornado fries.

"I don't like this." You say, looking at your stick and frowning. Turning to Jungkook, you extend your tornado fries to him. "Try this one."

He takes a bite from your own stick. Surprisingly, he seems to like it.

"You wanna exchange?" He offers his cheesy tornado fries in exchange with your sour barbecue-flavored one. You nod, taking it from him. Jungkook chuckles at you. "I told you to get that one."

"I was feeling experimental." You tell him simply.

When you were in front of the stall, you told him how you didn't like sour barbecue at all but still wanted to give it a try. Obviously, that did not go well. Good thing Jungkook bought the cheesy flavor, though.

From your peripheral vision, you see a group of what seems to be a group of teenage girls sitting on the bench across from you. Judging from the very familiar uniform, they're in high school. They've been there for a while now and you notice they've been stealing glances at your direction.

You glance at Jungkook and snort.

"Looks like someone here has some admirers from Seoul High School." You tease Jungkook. He does not seem to notice the girls at all, looking at you with confusion first before turning his head to look across.

In a second, Jungkook turns uncomfortable in his seat.

"That's Seoul High School?"

You laugh at the obvious way he ignores them looking at him. Still, you nod your head at his question, "Yup. Went there."

You subtly look at the girls' direction again, catching them do the same and you can just see Jungkook's ears getting red by the second, visibly embarrassed at the unwanted attention.

"That's just across my high school." He casually says, trying so hard not to mind the girls.

"No way!" You gasp. "Yongsan International?"

He nods.

"The cheerleading teams on both schools used to have, like, this big beef before, you know that?" You tell him, ready to lay out the huge gossip that happened in your batch. And then you remember, "Oh. You've probably graduated when I entered senior year in high school."

Jungkook gives you a look. "Rude. I'm not that old."

The sass comes unexpectedly which makes you laugh out loud you almost choke on the fries.

You were just about to tease him some more when somebody approaches you both.

"U-uhm..."

When you both look at the girl, she's one from the group who was shamelessly looking towards your direction, which is obviously aimed at a specific someone by your side, Jungkook.

"Hi!" You greet cheerfully.

The girl blushes and then turns to Jungkook.

"O-oppa..." She utters, hesitant when she pulls something out of her skirt pocket. It's a small, crocheted sunflower.

You coo at the sight, looking at Jungkook in amusement. The man beside you just grow more uncomfortable in his seat. He looks so constipated, god bless him.

"My friend told me to give this to the eonni beside you."

Your smile is quickly wiped off your face the moment her words sink in, confusion slowly coming to paint your expression. You look at the girl but before you can say anything, she's already walking away as soon as Jungkook takes the crocheted flower from her. You watch as she and her friends ran, their figures slowly disappearing from your line of sight.

"Looks like you got admirers from Seoul High School." Jungkook quips beside you. "For the eonni beside me." He teases, extending the cute little flower to you.

Hesitantly, you take the flower from his hands.

"You know, it suits you." Jungkook says when you don't say anything, still stunned from the literal turn of events.

You look up, baffled. "Huh?"

"A sunflower. It suits you... you're like it." He smiles, soft and gentle. There's a look of fondness in his eyes that you couldn't have mistaken for anything else. "I'm glad they gave that to you."

You open your mouth to speak, but there's nothing at the tip of your tongue.

Shying away from his gaze, you mumble a low, "Thank you."

You don't think you hear his next word right.

"Cute."

You have a hobby of collecting hobbies instead of focusing on one thing to be good at, jumping from one activity to another, even if it means abandoning your previous thing. Hobbies for most people means time lent to be better with it every day, but in your defense, you don't necessarily think you have to be good at something.

You've tried drawing. You've tried dancing. You've tried the guitar and you've tried the ukelele and you've tried crocheting and you've tried to study astrology. You've built three huge boxes of storage containing the needed materials for each of them, but they end up collecting dust.

Why can't a hobby just stay as a hobby, anyway? Why can't you just feel goofy one day to suddenly start drawing and give up the next day the moment you realize shading is hard? Why can't you just buy dress patterns and only sew the skirt part because tops are complicated to sew? Why can't you just learn four guitar chords because it's enough to play at least five songs using them?

None of it matters, you think. People will pressure you to push and push until you can possibly capitalize on something you're good at, but it just isn't the case for you.

You'll collect all the hobbies in the world until your head is full of random things and you just burst with it.

And true to your words, you find yourself wandering about in the baking aisle of your local grocery store at the late evening hours.

Yep. It's 2028 and your hobby pick for the year is baking.

So, what if you're a disaster in the kitchen? Cooking and baking are two different worlds! At least that's what Google tried to tell you a while ago when you were cleaning your bathroom earlier this morning, suddenly craving for some matcha cookies after you were done.

It sounded about right in your head that you decided to pick up ingredients for it, deciding it will be your dinner. At the back of your head, you think you should've just gone to the hundred cafes surrounding your apartment complex like, you know, any regular person would if they're craving something. But you figured that if you know how to bake, you could get matcha cookies anytime you want.

What can you say? You like to live life on edge. (You'll probably burn yourself in the oven later, but that will just be another lesson that life is soon to give you. You're just taking it in advance.)

But living on edge doesn't mean getting your card declined when you turn it to the cashier to supposedly pay for your grocery.

"I'm so sorry, uhm, can I have a few seconds, please?" You tell the cashier, giving her an awkward smile as you grab your wallet from your tote bag again, taking your card from her. You take another one of your debit cards this time and offer it to her, subtly looking around in hopes that no one is watching.

"Oh, we don't accept debit cards issued by this bank, ma'am." She says, and you're just about ready to dig yourself a hole from this complete, utter embarrassment.

"Okay..." you trail off nervously, glancing at the computer to look at your total. "I'll just pay in cash."

You do not, in fact, have enough cash.

You can tell the cashier is getting impatient from the way she shifts her weight from one side to another, and you keep yourself from making eye contact with her, fumbling with your wallet.

Three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and your card chose to decline on this very particular day. Why don't they accept your debit card? And why don't you have enough cash with you? Are you really this broke?

This is going to be a disaster. You can't afford to go to prison for this. Can you even go to prison for not paying grocery? Okay, maybe jail time for like 12 hours? But you have work tomorrow!

"Excuse me, miss,"

Somebody says but you refused to look at whoever it was, still counting the bills in your wallet that do not even accumulate to half the amount of your total.

"You can charge her bill here."

At that, your head quickly snap to the owner of the voice only to reveal himself as no other than Jeon Jungkook.

You swear you almost sigh in relief at the sight of him and have the sudden urge to hug him big time.

Jungkook looks at you and gives you a smile.

"Hi."

"Jungkook," you breathe. "Thank god you're here."

The cashier looks at you both weirdly but nonetheless swipes the card Jungkook gave her., instructing him to type his code on the key pad. There's nobody in line for the cashier you went to other than you both because it is too late an hour to be getting groceries, so Jungkook is able to butt in seamlessly and get his cart checked out as well.

"You're very much welcome." He says warmly.

Jungkook's dressed just as casually as you; a combination of simple white t-shirt and shorts and a pair of sliders. His grocery contains a lot different than yours, showing all sorts of food ingredients. You wait for his stuff to get bagged until you both head out of the store.

His car was just parked nearby, so you follow him towards its direction to apologize.

"I'm so, so sorry for earlier. I'll pay you later when we get home, of course." You say, just now registering how embarrassing it is for him to catch you in that situation. You're no stranger to getting your card declined... but really, now?

You decide to add awkwardly, "Or... do you have Kakao Pay?"

Jungkook chuckles while he opens his trunk, picking up his bags of groceries to place them in there. He shakes his head, keeping his hand outstretched to upwards to hold the hood of his car.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

You're about to speak in protest when he gestures at the bag in your hands, as if asking you to place it in the trunk as well. You shake your head repeatedly.

"No, it's okay, I'm just gonna take a cab home." You say, pointing to your back where the street is, politely refusing his obvious offer to drive you home.

He's done too much in the span of ten minutes you've seen each other tonight. He's paid for your groceries for heaven's sake, and he still has the intention to drive you again to your destination? Not adding the fact that he also just drove you to work yesterday to keep you from being late. It's like he's just doing you heaps of favors and so far, you've done nothing in return.

"__, please, I'm offering." Jungkook insists. As usual. "I really don't mind."

Shoulders deflating, you let out a sigh.

"It's just that..." You start, nibbling on your bottom lip.

"What?"

"You've just been doing me a lot of favors lately." You say, looking away from his gaze.

Jungkook calls your name gently. You train your gaze at him. He steps closer to you and gives your shoulder a soft tap. "Hey, I'm not counting."

The words in itself aren't all that special, but the way he said it and the way he looked at you while he did may have just did a little damage to your heart because why did it seem so genuine?

Still, you shy away.

"It's just really embarrassing." You say, out of argument now.

Jungkook lets out a sound of amusement and takes the bag from your hands. He didn't even give you the chance to protest before he managed to put it successfully in the trunk of his car, together with his own groceries.

"Why don't you pay me back by helping me make dinner tonight?" Jungkook muses.

You give him a weird look.

"You really want me in a kitchen? Have you not listened to my horror stories this whole time, Jungkook?"

He laughs as he leads you both inside his car. You follow quietly behind but this time, you don't mistake the passenger seat from the driver's seat and instantly wear your seatbelt as soon as you're sat.

"I dunno, I'm just offering. I thought it'll be fun." He shrugs, turning on the ignition of the car and starting to drive back to the apartment building.

"Okay, I can at least chop some onions and garlic..." You trail off. And then you remember as an afterthought, "Oh, I'm actually baking tonight as well."

Jungkook takes a quick surprise glance at you. "You never told me you know how."

You snort. "I don't know how, trust me. I'm just starting right now."

"Is that why you went out grocery shopping tonight?" He arches a brow.

"Yep. Totally a spontaneous thing. I wanted, like, this very specific matcha cookie..."

Jungkook laughs. "Should I help you with the baking as well? I might learn from you."

"Really? You want to help?" You ask him delightfully.

He nods, making your grin wider.

"Sounds fun."

You both agreed to cook and bake at his place, partly because you personally are not ready for him to see your own flat. When you get inside his unit, Jungkook cutely bragged about his table set that just arrived earlier this morning according to him.

Personally, you've barely cooked at your own place let alone somebody else's. The one time you were in someone else's kitchen was Jimin's but even then, it was just to microwave some pizza and other take-out food.

It should feel weird to be prepping ingredients with someone, to move around the kitchen with the goal to make yourself a homecooked meal – especially with somebody like Jungkook – but truthfully, it felt almost... natural. Probably because you're conversing casually while you're doing things so there isn't any awkward silence.

You're making tangsuyuk, according to him, and he's obviously taking the lead ��� expertly prepping the meat while you go chop some spices needed for the dish.

"Is this okay?" You ask, showing him your work. You hope he likes it because you're kind of under a weird pressure to be in here, helping him. Also, you're not sure if you minced the garlic right.

But Jungkook just gives you a hearty smile.

"Good girl."

And goes back to what he's doing as if he just said nothing.

Which—okay, he seemed to have unconsciously said it that now you're gaslighting yourself whether you heard him right or not. Did he really say what you think he just said? What the fucking fuck.

Thankfully, Jungkook's too busy to notice that you become a bit frozen in your position for a good ten seconds. If he truly didn't mean to say that, he needs to get those words out of his vocabulary before he sends you in a sudden cardiac arrest. It'd be the most mysterious death of humanity.

"Do you need the carrots?" You ask, raising the vegetable in your hand.

Jungkook nods and you start to peel it. He watches by your side when you begin slicing the carrot.

"Cut them into Julienne slices."

"Huh?" You look back at him. "Not the cooking jargon, Kook." You deadpan, the nickname seamlessly coming out of your mouth.

He apologizes and tells you exactly what he meant. You furrow your brows in concentration to achieve what he wants, but Jungkook just laughs beside you.

"Okay, let me just—"

He's behind you a second after that, towering over your form and circling his arms around you. Your breath hitches as Jungkook places his hand on top of yours – the one that holds the knife – and begins to guide you through slicing the carrot.

You can feel his breathing from the proximity of your position, and even though there's still distance between the both of you, it's only hairsbreadth away and frankly, the ridges of the front of his body are so prominent against your back.

Jungkook does not seem to face the same internal panic as you though, because as soon as he deems that you are staring to get it, he steps back and let you do the thing on your own.

He leans back on the countertop, crossing his arms while looking at you.

"You're not so bad at this like you claimed." He comments.

You feel your cheeks heating up, so you focus your full attention on the carrot, your hands seemingly having developed a mind of their own throughout the time. Well, at least it's doing the right job. You can only hope you don't slice through your fingers... imagine cutting them right into this very moment.

"This is a trauma response from watching too much Gordon Ramsay."

Jungkook chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.

"We're just gonna wait for another thirty minutes for the meat and the mushroom. Should we start baking? What do we do first?" He says, washing his hands first before walking towards your direction.

You take your phone out from your pocket, looking at him a bit apologetically as you say "sorry" for pulling up Google. For the record, you haven't memorized shit and this is your first time baking.

Jungkook shakes his head, telling you there's no need for apologies because he "can't bake for shit" himself. That makes you feel relieved. You thought he's just good at a lot of things.

You don't encounter any trouble while mixing the dry ingredients, but when it comes to the wet ones, you think you've done something wrong. Jungkook tells you to try it. When you dip your finger into the mixture and taste it, you automatically scrunch your face.

"What, why?" Jungkook asks curiously.

"I don't think this is quite right..." You say, looking down at the mixture sadly.

"Mayve we can add more vanilla...?" He takes the bottle with him, ready to pour some into the bowl.

You pout. "But it says one teaspoon and we already put one teaspoon."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know... give up?"

Jungkook chuckles as he says your name.

You sigh. "Okay, maybe we'll try some that."

You do as you say, and as you taste it again, you're delighted to notice the elevated flavor. Mindlessly dipping your finger again into the bowl, you offer it to Jungkook to try.

The very act just sinks into your head when he leans down to suck it off your finger.

It happened quick, not at all sensual and slow like the movies make it out to be, but you feel your heart rate picking up at the feel after-effect of Jungkook's hot tongue touching your skin. But as you look at him, his eyebrows are furrowed, assessing the taste, not at all in a trance by what just happened.

"Oh, definitely better." He comments, as if he didn't just... suck your finger?

... Which you offered.

That he took willingly.

You turn away from him and pretend to busy yourself with the electric mixer, fumbling with the paddle.

"Are you cooking the tangsuyuk yet?" You ask, changing the subject. Jungkook is completely unaware of the current chaos in your head, walking towards the refrigerator to take out the pork he marinated earlier and the bowl of mushrooms.

"Just tell me if you need help." He tells you, touching the small of your back as he passes by you to get to the stove.

You feel your cheeks heating at the touch, moving aside to let him start frying the meat with the batter he's busied himself with awhile ago.

"Shit!" You say, surprised at the sudden whir of the machine. Jungkook quickly looks at you. You laugh and give him a thumbs up. "I'm fine here!"

You both work together on your own thing, and when you let the dough to rest, Jungkook, at the same time, finishes frying the meat of the tangsuyuk. You don't want to feel useless while you don't have anything to work on, so you peer over what Jungkook is doing and ask him if you there's anything he needs.

"Do you want to make the sauce?" Jungkook asks you. You scrunch your nose and hesitantly nod. He seems to notice your uncertainty and chuckles. "I'll teach you."

"Okay, but don't blame me if it tastes like shit later, okay?" You warn but he just shrugs and laugh, telling you that he'll talk you through the process and there's no need to be nervous. You can just experiment with it a little, he says.

You've watched a lot of Hell's Kitchen episodes that you have this silly, unrealistic expectation on what goes on in kitchens, but thankfully, Jungkook isn't like Gordon Ramsay at all and is so unbelievably gentle in teaching you even when you almost spilled soy sauce on the countertop and put too much vinegar than needed. He shrugs your worries off by fixing the thing, thankful that when he offers you the ladle to taste the sauce from it, it's more than decent.

While Jungkook prepares the tangsuyuk for your dinner, you take the time to form your cookie dough into small circles, leaving it in the oven to bake while you follow Jungkook into the living room and start eating the food that you cooked – or he cooked.

Jungkook teases you that you lied about not being good at cooking, but you have to remind him you didn't do shit and only the bare minimum. He looks like he's not convinced.

By the time that you're finished with your dinner, the oven's timer went off. Jungkook insists that he wash the dishes even though you feel like you should be the one doing it, but he tells you to check your cookies in the oven and so you did.

You're not expecting anything, but it will feel really good if it tastes at least okay.

Crossed fingers, your mind says as you take out the sheet pan.

First impression: it looks okay to the eye. Like real cookies.

But soon, your parade is rained on when you try to bite into the cookie.

It looks like real cookie, all right, but apparently doesn't taste like one.

Your face contorts into a frown as soon as you bite down into it a second time.

Okay, that's it. Put them in the tupperware as soon as possible, you thought. So, you do just that, placing all of the pieces into the plastic box and securing them away.

From where you were, you can hear Jungkook shutting the water off on the sink, his footsteps coming near you. Once he gets close, he peers down at what you're doing. Intrigued, he asks for one.

"No." you shake your head. The cookies are to be gatekept not because it's too good but because it should not be consumed at all. Jesus. You just ate Jungkook's tangsuyuk and it tasted exactly like the ones you've eaten from restaurants; it'd be such an embarrassing contrast to your own work.

"Don't be stingy," Jungkook playfully says, already making a move to reach for the cookies in your hands.

You hide the tupperware behind your back and stop him with your other free hand.

"Don't come closer. These cookies are not for consumption. Go away."

But he just arches a brow, walking a few steps forward.

"Jungkook!" You whine. "They don't taste good, and I'm embarrassed by them."

"Just one bite," Jungkook chuckles at you, not understanding your mortification. "Come on, __."

But you're stubborn and you won't let him have any of it even if he tries hard.

Jungkook is just as determined though, as he threatens to get closer and closer to you.

You squeaked out his name when he takes a hold of the tupperware but thankfully, you're quick on your reflex and able to take it back.

The whole thing prompts you to burst into laughter as you run around the island of his kitchen, giggling at the silliness of it all.

Your efforts to get away from him eventually go to waste as he managed to get ahold of your waist with his one arm, the other not missing the beat to steal the cookies from you.

He's firm over his hold, lifting you up while laughing against your head as you try to wriggle away.

"Let me have one bite, __," He says, and with his one arm, sits you on the countertop, not letting you go just yet even when you're fully sat.

You try to snatch the plastic from him but he's much quicker this time. When he opens it, you have no choice but to cover your face in embarrassment.

"I told you it's bad." You say, pouting at him, noting the expression on his face as he chews on the cookies that tells you it definitely does not taste good.

"You're a first timer." Jungkook just says, putting down the tupperware.

"Don't try to make me feel better." You frown even more.

"I'm not! I'm just pointing out that this is the first time you tried so of course it's not gonna be perfect right away?" He offers, some sort of comfort, maybe?

But your shoulders deflate because he's right.

Still.

Jungkook must have noticed your mood and tries to cheer you up one more time.

"Come on, you still made a really good tangsuyuk."

That makes you chuckle, unconsciously kicking his knee slightly making him let out an ingenuine, "Ow!"

You don't notice one of the straps of your spaghetti top falling off until Jungkook fixes it for you in the middle of your shared laughter.

"Thanks." You smile at him, mindlessly touching the strap, keeping it in place.

Jungkook hums as he helps you jump out of the kitchen counter.

The night ended with him walking you to your unit again, a rather silly thing he keeps on insisting to do. It's hard to put a name on it, but there's a certain feeling in your chest when you went out of Jungkook's apartment.

A feeling that lingers its way through when you receive a text from him after you come out of the shower that night.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:05pm]: good night chef

You fight off the smile that forces its way into your lips as you type out a reply.

You [11:06pm]: good night :)))))

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:06pm]: i thought u already slept

You [11:07pm]: at 11oclock??? what do u think am i a grandma

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: fair Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: but i had fun earlier. we should do it again sometime

You lie on your back, can't help yourself from letting a small giggle.

You [11:09pm]: jungkook-a You [11:09pm]: just tell me u wanna be with me??

You meant that as a joke, obviously. Just like how he joked about you one time over lunch about wanting to see him every day when you brought up the topic of not seeing him come out of his apartment. You did not mean anything by it other than friendly banter.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:10pm]: 🤔 Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: that can be arranged. you can be my personal sous chef and I'll build us a restaurant

You [11:11pm]: sweet

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:11pm]: you havent seen all, baby

Your lips part.

Okay...

Your relationship is absolutely platonic at best. But you can't help but think that he gets a little flirty at times... like the few moments in his kitchen earlier. Is it bad that you're thinking way too much about that specific memory of him licking your finger without thought? Of his strong arm effortlessly carrying you against his rigid body and putting you on the countertop, almost manhandling you? Is it bad you can't get the memory of him fixing your top out of your head?

His use of nickname ticks a little light at the back of your head, and you decide to poke the nest a little.

You [11:12pm]: really? what r u wearing right now

Just a little jokey-joke between friends and nothing more.

You don't even expect a reply to that, but your phone dings a second after, and when you open your message thread again, your jaw parts wider this time.

It's a picture of Jungkook lying his bed, his face cut off from the frame. But you know it's him from the arm that peeks out, his tattoos a familiar sight by now. The photo is taken at a low angle, just enough for you to see the sleeveless shirt he's sporting and the strings of his grey shorts.

You [11:14pm]: i meant that as a joke

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:14pm]: 🥴

You do not know what he meant by that. You look for a picture to reply with, and the HAHA reaction is expected the moment you pressed send.

You [11:15pm]: stripper patrick says good night

Laughing silently at the meme you sent him which was Patrick from Spongebob wearing a pair of black fishnet tights and boots, you wait as three dots appear on Jungkook's line.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:15pm]: you're a minx

You chuckle, reacting to his message with an emoji and turn off your phone, almost throwing it on your nightstand and scrambling to bury your face in your pillow to let out a sound of a weird sob, but you're smiling your face off and your cheeks feel way too hot.

The truth of the matter is that you ended the conversation because you're afraid of where it's going.

Turning around, you lay on your back and stare at your ceiling, calming the beat of your heart and forcing your eyes to shut close.

But the picture Jungkook sent you keeps on popping up in your head, almost like those ads from shady websites on the internet, and when you think about it, it triggers a slur of memories that play like a picture in your head: his lips wrapped around your finger... his strong arm... his subtle touch on the small of your back...

"Ugh," you groan, slapping your hands over your face.

You furrow your brows to appear serious, thinking that it'll make you think of something serious as well, wrapping a blanket over your body and sighing when the technique doesn't work.

Okay, think of dogs... and puppies...but that's apparently a wrong move because now you're thinking of Jungkook with his dog.

You're obviously awful at this.

You turn on your bed once again, muffling a sound in your pillow.

But then as minutes passed, your restlessness continues to prevail and you're about to cry with the unknown frustration that sits at the back of your head.

Laying in silence for a while, your hand finds itself roaming over your body, your thumb catching your nipple through your thin top. You pinch the nub, experimental, until it turns into a pebbled rock in your touch.

You bite your bottom lip as your other hand trails down over your panties, running it around the waistband, down until you reach down, down, down to your core.

Your lips part when you feel its heat, two of your fingers starting to stroke where your nether lips were. You sigh at the sensation, squeezing at your boob and turning your head to the side, thinking about how good it feels.

Slowly, you reach down under your parties to part your lips, moaning at the wetness that welcomes you below.

You start to stroke gently with your middle finger, drawing figure eights over your core and making sure to put friction on your clit. The ministration produces more wetness in your cunt, and you spread it over for easier access inside as you start to poke into your hole.

"Oh my god," you mewled, breathing heavily against your pillow, pumping a finger into you. It's a little tight, and you remember you haven't touched yourself like this for over a few weeks now.

But god, how could you forget the feeling of it? The feeling of something going in and out of your cunt, gliding so smoothly because of the abundance of wetness all over.

"Fuck." you sigh out, lips parted, eyes closed to feel more of the sensation.

Your other hand reaches under your top to fondle with your boob, helping you stimulate yourself into that familiar feeling of great ecstasy that comes with your pussy getting touched.

It's starting to feel hot, and you can feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the side of your head even though the AC and your fan are both on. There's a zap that starts from your spine that comes with a sort of electricity coming from within, transferring that tick into your belly which prompts you to pump into your hole faster.

The sheets are a mess at this point, with your feet kicking into them as your movement picks up pace.

"Oh god," you cry out silently, muffling your sob in the comfort of your fluffy pillow.

You chase the feeling of completion, closing your eyes once more, trying to figure out how to get there.

And there's one familiar man that pops inside your head.

Jeon Jungkook.

"Oh shit," you hiss, pinching your nipple and going in and out faster.

Jungkook with his lips around your finger. Jungkook pressing his body against your back. Jungkook carrying you against his body. Jungkook's electric touch as he fixes the strap that's fallen over your naked shoulder.

You let out a pathetic moan, trying to shake away the thoughts of him.

You aren't supposed to. It feels wrong. So wrong.

Suddenly, you feel frustrated over still not reaching your climax up to this point.

You let out a heavy breath, pulling out your fingers from your pussy and from under your panties.

You don't get off. You never do – with your fingers, anyway, that is. And that's why you have a trusted toy buried deep at the back of the drawer of your nightstand, kept away for occasional uses. You'd say you need it right now, but you're too flushed and tired to take it out.

And there's also a melancholic feeling in your heart upon realizing that you just thought of Jungkook while touching yourself.

"Shit, shit, shit." You hiss, the cusses mostly dedicated to yourself.

You shake your head as you sit on the edge of your bed, your hair a bird's nest and clothes strewn over your body as per your reflection on the full-body mirror across your bed.

Sighing, you let your head down and massage your temples.

"God, what's wrong with me,"

You feel guilty... because you aren't supposed to think of a friend when you're trying to get off. You told yourself you'd stop finding Jungkook hot or cute or what-the-fuck-ever so that stupid crush can go away finally. But it feels like all your efforts – or lack, thereof – always seem to fall short.

This isn't good. You need to think straight.

A sudden loud ping catches your attention, almost startling you because it's in the middle of the night, after all. When you snap your head to the side, you see your phone with the light out.

You instantly feel a little nervous. What if it's Jungkook? There's an irrational fear in your head that he knows what you just did, but you shake the thought away, scolding yourself for getting way over your head.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel scared to open your phone but then, did you really have a choice?

Slowly trudging to the direction of your phone, you pick it up from the table and turn it on.

August 18: Your cycle forecast Ovulation in 2 days. Your sex drive may just be hitting its peak🌡️ Tap for tips to make most out of it👉

"Oh fuck me." You curse, throwing your phone on the bed, feeling pissed all of the sudden.

Fucking period tracker app... and ovulation.

PART THREE | ...

all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[winterarmyy]

Steal Me Away

Glimpses of the grumpy chubby alpha!bucky's love life.

Summary: When Bucky was stuck in an unpleasant lunch with his co-workers; he thought about how nice it would be if someone comes and steals him away.

Navigation: Prequel || Main Story I || Main Story II || Main Story III

Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader

Words: 2.6k++

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics. no plot, just fluff. low-key body shamming, bullying, bucky and his omega being adorable. (tell me is there's anything else I missed)

P/S: Impulsive writing at 3am in the morning because I couldn't sleep, then left the draft to rot for weeks, now posted. Also tagging @serendipitouslife90 because she's the biggest fan of this au. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short fic and happy reading! 🤍

Read my other works here: Masterlist

The morning sun filtered through the blinds of Bucky’s cubicle, casting narrow strips of light across his cluttered desk. The office was its usual sanctuary of muted tones and hushed conversations. Colleagues navigated the aisles like cautious explorers, their brief nods to Bucky barely concealing their unease.

He didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it this way. Solitude was his comfort zone, and he relished the uninterrupted focus on his work.

Bucky tapped away at his keyboard, the rhythmic clacking serving as his meditation. His thoughts were like the lines of code he worked with; orderly, precise, and devoid of unnecessary embellishments. Socializing was a distraction he neither wanted nor needed.

The occasional murmurs of sympathy about his less-than-ideal body shape for an Alpha like him, or the prosthetic arm he wore to make up for his imperfection, had long since ceased to bother him. They were background noise in the symphony of his workday.

Two weeks had passed since Bucky had last seen y/n, their second date now a vivid but distant memory. Their time together had been cut short, both of them consumed by the relentless demands of their careers. Especially for Bucky, the high-pressure world of software engineering was unforgiving.

Ever since he was in school, he always had the knack for tech but as he grew up, his path lead away from it. Then after his abrupt release from military service, he was lost for a moment. He lost his position and quite literally his limb. After he was introduced to Stark Technologies for is prosthetic, his interest in tech bloomed once more.

Fast forward, he had transitioned to civilian life with a single-minded focus on his career. The transition from soldier to software engineer had been a challenging yet rewarding shift, one that demanded every ounce of his dedication.

His days were a blur of client meetings, coding marathons, and sleepless nights, leaving him barely enough time to recharge. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't escape the gnawing sense of guilt that tugged at him.

Y/n had been understanding, insisting that they could take things slow and that she was patient. Yet Bucky felt a pressing need to make up for the lost time, to show her that she was more important than the endless stream of work that consumed him.

His longing for her was a constant undercurrent in his daily routine, a reminder of the connection he cherished and the promises he hoped to fulfill, even amidst the chaos of his demanding schedule.

Lunchtime arrived with an uncharacteristic intrusion; Brock’s insistent presence. Bucky had settled into his usual corner of the break room, anticipating a quiet meal alone.

But Brock, with his usual smirk, plopped down across from him, completely unfazed by Bucky’s visible discomfort.

“You know, Bucky,” he started, his tone laced with false camaraderie, “maybe you should join us for lunch this time. Walk off that fat in your belly, and maybe, just maybe, might help you lose a few pounds and get that soldier body of yours again.”

The comment triggered a ripple of reactions around the break room. A few colleagues, particularly those who fancied themselves as superior alpha, snickered behind their coffee cups, enjoying the moment at Bucky’s expense. The rest of the room fell into an awkward silence; some looked away, unable or unwilling to get involved, while others exchanged nervous glances, wary of crossing the line with either of the alpha males.

Bucky’s mind raced with a mix of frustration and contemplation. Brock’s taunts were nothing new, but the timing was particularly irritating. With his packed schedule and the constant pressure of meeting deadlines, Bucky had barely had a moment to breathe, let alone deal with petty office politics.

The jabs felt like an unnecessary complication in an already strained day. His thoughts were a whirlwind of frustration; he wondered why he always ended up the target of Brock’s remarks and whether it was a reflection of his own choices or just Brock’s way of asserting dominance.

The palpable tension in the room only added to his mounting irritation.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his irritation simmering beneath a thin veneer of politeness. “Yeah, sure. Why not?” He didn’t bother hiding the grumble in his voice. His work would have to wait, and so would his patience.

The café buzzed with conversation and clinking dishes, an atmosphere of forced cheerfulness that did little to mask the underlying tension. Bucky took his seat with a sigh, his mind already drifting to y/n, the image of her smile a soothing balm to his frayed nerves.

Brock wasted no time in launching his passive-aggressive jabs, each comment about Bucky’s weight or his vibranium prosthetic arm more cutting than the last. Bucky could feel the rage bubbling up, but he forced himself to stay calm, focusing instead on the thought of y/n. The warm glow of her presence seemed to wrap around him, even in the midst of Brock’s taunts.

Brock leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “You know, Bucky, it's always something watching you eat alone. Maybe if you spent less time working and more time mingling; hit the gym with us after work or something. Who knows you might actually find yourself a date for once.”

The remark seemed casual, almost playful, but it carried a veiled sting. It wasn’t just about Bucky’s solitary lunchtime habits; it was a pointed jab at his single status, suggesting that his lack of romantic success might be due to his social ineptitude and undesirable body.

Bucky’s patience snapped. He leaned forward, his voice cold and controlled. “I don’t know, Brock. Honestly, it’s much better to be alone than to ‘mingle’ with someone who’s all bark and no bite.” He fearlessly maintained his cold gaze; eyes seemingly bore the words his lips never spoke. “…Like you”

Brock's face flushed a deep crimson, and his jaw tightened in a futile attempt to maintain composure. He muttered something about needing a smoke before hastily exiting the room, his pride stinging from the unexpected jab. The rest of the team sat in an uneasy silence, the tension almost tangible.

They watched as Bucky’s eyes bore into Brock’s retreating figure, cold and unyielding. There was something almost feral in his gaze, a silent promise of consequences that only someone with true authority and control could convey.

Everyone knew better than to provoke him further; Bucky's look was a chilling reminder that he played by his own rules.

Brock stepped out of the café, his frustration boiling over as he lit a cigarette. With each inhale of nicotine, he muttered darkly under his breath, cursing Bucky and grumbling about how that fat-ass loser like him had the audacity to undermine his clearly more superior alpha status.

His anger was a tempest, raging against the affront to his ego.

As he paced, his gaze drifted to the sidewalk next to the café, where a striking woman in a sundress was engrossed in her phone. The late afternoon sun highlighted the gentle curves of her figure, and her unblemished skin glowed softly, exposed at the back of her neck.

Brock’s eyes raked over her with a predatory appreciation, the male gaze undeniable in his scrutiny.

Her poised stance and soft demeanor hinted at an aura of femineity that intrigued him. A smirk curved his lips as he took another drag from his cigarette, already imagining how he might woo her, hoping that a little charm could be the distraction he needed from his bruised pride.

Back in the café, Bucky was still seated at the table, surrounded by the typical midday hustle, yet he remained ensconced in a bubble of tranquility. His attention was focused solely on his phone, where a soft, contented smile played on his lips. The noise of the café faded into the background as he read through y/n’s messages.

Each word from her was a thread that connected him to a part of his life that felt more real and meaningful than the relentless grind of his daily routine.

Y/n had inquired about his lunch, her questions laced with genuine curiosity. “How was your lunch?” “Was it any good?” “How’s your day been so far?” The inquiries seemed almost innocent, yet they carried a warmth that enveloped him.

And then, the message that tugged at his heartstrings: “I miss you.” It was as if her words had the power to reach through the screen and touch him directly, offering a solace that was hard to find amidst the chaos left from the prior event.

He missed her deeply.

The absence of her voice, the comfort of her presence. He wished that she could just steal him away; or perhaps he would be stealing her away?

Eitherway, he just wants to get out of here.

As he glanced at the time, noting that he still had about thirty minutes before he needed to return to the office, he made a quick decision. He would step outside for a moment, away from the unnecessary drama, and maybe give her a call.

The thought of hearing her voice, even if only for a brief conversation, was a beacon of light in his otherwise frenetic day. As Bucky stepped out of the café, his gaze remained fixed on his phone, where y/n’s last message glowed softly on the screen.

Unbeknownst to him, the scene unfolding just a few paces away was far less pleasant. Brock, still nursing his bruised ego from their earlier encounter by relentlessly flirting with the girl. “Come on, sweetheart, just one date.” Brock said, his voice low and laced with insincere flirtation.

He leaned in close, a smirk playing on his lips as his hand reached out, brushing against her exposed shoulder. Y/n recoiled slightly, her discomfort palpable. “I’m really not interested,” she said firmly, though her voice carried an undercurrent of unease. “and I have a boyfriend.”

Brock’s persistence only grew more insistent. “I doubt that. I can see you do not have his mark here,” he persisted, his hand lingering uncomfortably on her shoulder, close to where her mating mark supposed to reside. Despite her attempts to shrug off his advances, Brock didn’t relent. His touch was intrusive, and his words edged on harassment. And she can sense the scent of arousal coming from the alpha.

Y/n’s eyes darted around, seeking an escape from the unwanted attention. As her gaze fell behind Brock, she caught sight of a familiar figure; one that seemed to offer a lifeline amidst her distress.

“Bucky?” she called out, her voice tinged with both relief and surprise. The name escaped her lips before she could fully process the situation, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of Bucky walking toward them.

Bucky knew that voice. It was a sound that resonated deep within him, as familiar as his own heartbeat. He lifted his eyes from his phone, and the world around him sharpened into focus. The scene before him was both infuriating and unmistakable: Brock, with his sleazy smirk and inappropriate proximity, stood uncomfortably close to Bucky's omega, his hand hovering dangerously near her exposed shoulder.

A surge of primal fury shot through Bucky, a blaze of anger that burned through his veins and coiled tight in his chest. His eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, a low, guttural growl forming in his throat as he prepared to confront the intruder. His body tensed, ready to pounce.

But before he could make a move, y/n was already in motion. She leaped into his arms with a mix of desperation and joy, catching Bucky off guard. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, holding her securely against his chest.

Her arms clung tightly to his nape, her face burying itself into the crook of his neck as if seeking refuge; shamelessly scenting him. Her warm breath and soft sighs was a soothing cure to his simmering rage.

The anger that had been boiling inside him began to fizzle away, replaced by a profound sense of relief and love. The sound of her happy purrs, the feel of her soft body pressed against his, and her intoxicatingly sweet scent; all of it made his anger dissolve into a tender, protective affection.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, his arms tightening around her waist as he relished in the comforting closeness. “Hi, sugar.” he whispered, his voice thick with affection and relief.

Bucky's hold loosen as he leaned down, his gentle smile never faltering as he closed the distance between them. His eyes softened with affection, and he pressed his lips against y/n's in a kiss so tender it felt like a whisper. It was a soft, loving caress that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

But before he could pull back, y/n’s playful energy erupted. She cupped his cheeks in her delicate hands, pulling him down to her level with a sudden, joyful enthusiasm.

Her lips attacked his with a flurry of kisses; quick, warm, and full of exuberance. Each kiss left behind a trace of her strawberry-scented lipstick, creating a trail of smudged rosy color across his face. The marks dotted his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and even his lips, a vibrant testament to her affection.

Amused laughter bubbled up from Bucky, the sound a rare and delightful departure from his usual stoic demeanor. His eyes twinkled with genuine mirth, his grumpy alpha persona completely melted away in the face of y/n’s loving onslaught.

He reveled in the smothering of her kisses, his initial tension and anger forgotten. A satisfied rumble vibrates on his throat, across his chest. The contrast between his earlier anger and the unrestrained joy he now experienced was stark; the shift was almost palpable.

Lost in their own world, the two seemed oblivious to their surroundings. Their display of affection was unabashedly public, a stark contrast to the earlier tension. Y/n looked up at him with bright eyes, her voice filled with eager excitement as she asked if he still had time.

“I want to steal you away.” she said with a playful smile.

Bucky’s smile widened, his heart swelling with happiness. “Of course, sugar. Anything for you.” he replied, his voice tender and filled with genuine warmth.

But as Bucky’s gaze shifted away from y/n and landed on Brock, his soft features momentarily disappeared. His expression hardened, the warmth in his eyes turning to ice. The switch in his demeanor was chilling; an instant transformation from the tender lover to a menacing figure.

The coldness in his eyes was a silent, yet unmistakable warning. It was as though a dark storm cloud had settled over him, a clear signal that Brock's earlier arrogance had crossed an unforgivable line.

The intensity of Bucky’s stare spoke volumes, a silent promise of retribution and a reminder of the strength behind his calm exterior. The abrupt shift in his demeanor was a jarring contrast to the affection he had just displayed, sending a clear message to Brock that any further provocation would be met with unspeakable consequences.

As Bucky and y/n walked hand in hand away from the café, Brock stood there, fuming and humiliated. His attempt to belittle Bucky had backfired spectacularly.

Inside the café, Bucky’s colleagues had their jaws dropped. They were astonished not only by y/n’s ethereal beauty but also by the sight of Bucky, usually so composed and reserved, smiling so openly. They were completely stunned by the unexpected display of vulnerability and affection from the grumpy loner.

The couple continued down the street, their hands clasped together. The afternoon sun cast long shadows as they headed towards their next destination.

Bucky’s smile was genuine, a rare and precious sight as he looked down; memorizing the way her hand perfectly intertwined with his. At that moment, he couldn’t help but think how much he wished y/n would steal him away more often.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for staying to the end of the fic. Hope you enjoy reading it!

[justalost4girl]

ONE

This fanfic is part of my Taylor Swift coded fanfics. word count: 3186

A girl walks onto the stage with a guitar in hand and a smile on her face.

She greets the band, and they greet her back. The shy girl thanks everyone for coming tonight.

Natasha Romanoff grips her glass tighter and orders another shot of whiskey without looking at the bartender, as she can't take her eyes off of you.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

One year earlier…

She finds you at the café. Natasha hates cafés, but she knows your company's head of security comes at the end of every period to get coffee with you; it's been like this for two weeks.

But today, you're alone at a table, and Natasha needs to adjust the plan. She goes to the counter and orders a cappuccino—the same as yours—and looks for a place to sit.

Your eyes meet hers, and for a moment, the redhead ignores the hot cup she's carrying.

You're beautiful

And shy.

Natasha recalls your file and smiles. You were exactly as Skye had described. She sees a chance to approach in the crowded room and clears her throat; she's done this before but feels the need to focus.

"Can I sit with you?" A soft voice pulls you out of the stupor you entered when you looked into those deep green eyes. Eyes that could inspire symphonies, and you believe she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, and your brain can't do more than nod, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

She sits beside you, not in front of you, waiting to analyze your computer. The file didn't mention the software you use, so it's up to her to find out before your friend arrives. She positions her coffee well so her field of vision can see anything that appears on the screen.

"I'm pretty sure I've seen you around here; do you live nearby?" She asks, trying to break the ice as usual, but deep down, she feels strange under your contemplative gaze.

"Yes, I live in the building across from Luthor Corp and work there." Your voice shows pride, and your eyes sparkle, Natasha notices. She wonders if you know what your colleague has been developing and the true nature of your boss.

"And you? I don't think I've seen you around here before," you seem genuinely interested. Natasha likes that. Targets are easy, but you are very easy; with just a few words, she already knows where you live and work. For a security analyst, you are far too naive.

And she puts the plan into practice.

"I just moved to the end of the block. There are so many boxes… I needed the coffee to give me energy." She says with an extremely calculated tone. You smile and notice that she has a beautiful corner smile and really seems tired, so you offer to help.

You always offer to help strangers.

And Natasha celebrates the success of the plan while taking a sip of coffee and leaning toward you, complimenting your screensaver. While you give her an excited explanation, she takes the opportunity to see the type of software used and memorizes the access password when you unlock the computer to show how the galaxy theme expands on your computer.

You exchange names.

She's Natalie. Nickname? Nat. The redhead shares similar tastes to yours, and something tells you that coming here alone was the best choice. After all, Nat would never look at you if Luke were around.

You also have a name, but everyone calls you Newton. In honor of your favorite physicist. A development assistant in the security sector with a desk always organizedly messy, in your words. Your boss, Luke, didn't come today because he had an emergency meeting and gave you the afternoon off. Natasha makes a mental note to understand this.

He didn't have any meetings scheduled.

As the coffee finishes, Nat guides you to her house. You stretch your back and even tie your hair up to help with the boxes. Then, you feel a bit disappointed to find there are only two, but you don't complain.

You never complain.

Natasha watches you help organize the books in the living room, chattering away about how you've read most of them and your opinions. You don't notice, however, that they show no signs of use, and amidst some jokes, for a minute Natasha forgets about the mission. Being with you is comfy.

"Wanna order pizza? I know a good place." You ask, sitting on her floor. Your jacket, backpack, and shoes are at the door. She liked how you took off your shoes to enter her house. It's a sign of respect, you say. The file points out the numerous k-dramas evaluated in your account, but she doesn't comment and even finds it adorable. She finds you adorable. Period.

"Sure, but only if you agree to watch something before we go and let me pay for the snack. You were my hero today." Nat smiles, and all that crosses your mind is how random your luck is. Here, sitting on this floor with the most beautiful woman you've ever met in front of you, the word destiny has a new meaning.

She gives you yoga pants and an oversized Star Wars shirt, your favorite saga, to make yourself comfortable. The pizza arrives while you're changing, and she can't use your laptop, but that loses its importance when your heart warms seeing you wear clothes she bought just for you. You feel like you're in heaven for finding someone as big a Star Wars fan as you, because that shirt was only available by order. Everything seems too perfect, you think, but the thought flies when you find out the theory of olives applies to both of you.

Natasha puts on your favorite movie from the franchise, and what was supposed to be just one movie becomes a marathon. She knows all the lines and jokes from each movie, knows curiosities and book details, and that makes you ignore your phone all night.

That night, you fall asleep on the couch.

The sun hits the window, and the redhead opens her eyes and sees you. Your arms are by your side, but Natasha is practically in your lap. Even in a deep sleep, you respect her too much to touch her.

Natasha is distracted for a moment and wonders how much of a spy she was last night. Here and now, looking at your lips in a half smile and your messy hair. Natasha almost feels bad for getting into this mission.

Almost.

She shakes her head and carefully gets off the couch and goes to your backpack, finding a black-covered book and the laptop. The goal? Install a spy program on the laptop. The problem? Natasha's curiosity gets the best of her, and she opens the book.

Your song lyrics, drawing attempts, and poems are a world for her to explore, and only after ten minutes, Natasha remembers the mission. She plugs in a device, pockets it, and waits for the installation, but when the progress bar is only halfway, your alarm goes off, and Natasha has to improvise.

Two minutes until the program is complete.

"Hello there," she says, smiling softly, throwing herself on top of you.

"Ah, now you're Obi-Wan? I thought you were Jar Jar Binks," you say, rubbing your eye and laughing at her offended expression.

Natasha rolls her eyes and starts a tickle war. You squirm, and she lets herself spin on the couch, ending up underneath you.

"Okay, okay, truce. You're not Jar Jar. You're the face anyone would turn to the dark side for," you say, feeling an unexpected courage.

"Does that go for you, Newton?" Natasha says softly, her eyes fixed on yours, her gaze alternating between your lips and your eyes in an almost hypnotizing manner.

"That goes for me, Nat," you whisper, looking at her lips.

You're not sure who initiated the kiss first, but you like to think it was both. The world seems to stop as your lips meet, each touch filled with emotions and suppressed desires. For you, it's a moment of pure magic and connection, an unexpected paradise. For Natasha, it's a reminder of what she could lose, a conflict between duty and desire.

The day passes slowly. She drags you from the couch to the kitchen for coffee and then back to the couch for a make-out session. Natasha has a dominant and bossy streak, and you feel comfortable and safe beside her, as her hands don’t cross any boundaries and remain on your waist. You try a new recipe, talk about the weather, exchange compliments and kisses. The afternoon arrives, and Luke calls you to the office.

You decide to stop by home first but manage to take one of Natasha's limited edition sweatshirts as a promise to meet again soon.

Natasha leaves you at the door smiling like she hasn't in a long time. All for the mission, of course. At least that's what she wants to believe.

She doesn't realize she forgot to send the report to Fury.

You don't realize your laptop is on in the backpack.

Nat is different from any woman you've ever met.

Not that you've met many.

No, but Nat is different. She's kind. She's everything you could ask for in a person. Nat is too good to be true.

"Newton is smiling today?" Luke says, approaching your desk.

"I found my soulmate at the café yesterday," you say, eyes sparkling.

"Really? What's she like?" he asks, placing some files on your desk.

You describe everything, from her appearance to shared tastes, and he smiles like he does with clients.

"Send me the code by 5 p.m., then you can go see your future wife," he says, typing something on his phone and leaving.

You smile and grab your laptop. It's almost dead and turned on. You find it strange but don't question it; after all, the computer is still locked. The memory of Nat's eyes brings you more inspiration, and you jot down about the new shade of green where you found peace.

The afternoon passes in a blur, the leaves fall, and you finally finish the code. Luke is nowhere to be found, something about an urgent meeting, and you decide to send the code by email.

Natasha is at home, with full access to your computer, celebrating the success of the plan. The virus will accompany the file. Luke will open it on the corporate computer, and she can finish the mission. She watches you through the camera, and Natasha misses you for a moment. You are a beautiful collateral damage. Too kind. Too captivating.

She knows it's wrong, but she lets the idea linger in her mind for more than a minute.

Natasha sighed as she shut down the laptop, feeling the weight of the decision she had made. She glanced at the phone screen, hesitant for a moment before typing a quick message to Newton.

"Miss you, come over?" she typed, her fingers hesitating over the keys. It was the first time in a long time that she allowed herself to be true.

"On my way, General Romanoff," you reply, making your usual path with a smile on your face.

☆。*。☆。 Eight months earlier…

One night, as the soft moonlight filtered through the curtains, you were sitting on the couch beside Natasha. She was flipping through your lyric notebook, and after much persuasion, she managed to convince you to sing one of your songs. With a shy smile, your voice filled the room, bringing life to the carefully crafted words.

Natasha watched you with admiration, her eyes sparkling with each note. When you finished, she applauded enthusiastically.

"You have an incredible voice, you know? You should leave this field and sing in a bar. Become famous and rich," Natasha suggested, excitement gleaming in her eyes.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Maybe someday. But if I do, will you promise to be there?"

Natasha took your hand and looked directly into your eyes. "I wouldn't miss any of your shows for anything in this world," she said sincerely.

Later that night, after waking from a nightmare and seeing Natasha, who was now lying on her side, her hair spread across the pillow, you took a deep breath.

Focusing on the woman beside you, you felt a mix of tenderness and curiosity as you admired the peace on her face. Her gentle features seemed even kinder in the quiet of the moment.

Natasha breathed calmly in peaceful sleep, immersed in a world of tranquility that contrasted with the turmoil of your own thoughts.

For a moment, you wondered about the thoughts Natasha kept, about what she dreamed and what made her smile in the silence of that rest. There was something intriguing about the way she moved in the world, near you, an aura of mystery and serenity that deeply attracted you.

You were in love; you felt it intensely and quickly. And for the first time in your life, you felt that this love was mutual. You lay down beside her, lightly touching Natasha's lips with a kiss. She slowly opened her eyes, meeting yours with a gentle shine of surprise and care.

"Nat," you started, feeling your heart racing with emotion overflowing in your words. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

A radiant smile formed on her lips, her eyes reflecting tenderness and joy. She nodded slightly, without saying a word, but making it clear that her answer was yes.

☆。*。☆。 Six months earlier…

You walked out of the office with firm steps, Luke by your side. For the first time in months, he mentioned it was for security measures, and you didn't mind, too excited to introduce your oldest friend to your girlfriend. The usual café was just a few meters away, and Natasha, watching from afar, noticed the smile on Newton's face as she entered the establishment.

"Hello there!" You exclaimed eagerly upon seeing Natasha, who smiled back warmly as she greeted you. "You're here! I missed you," Natasha said, warmly embracing you. She caught the familiar scent of Newton and momentarily lost herself in the comforting sensation.

"Yes, and accompanied this time. Nat, this is Luke. Luke, this is Natalie," you introduced them, your eyes shining with affection for Nat, your girlfriend.

"Natalie! You're as beautiful as she said," Luke complimented Natasha with a gallant air, earning a playful eye-roll from Newton. Natasha noted the dynamic between the two, the way Luke enjoyed subtly teasing her.

"Maybe Newton is onto something after all," Natasha replied, laughing softly as she observed Newton and Luke interact.

Luke was at ease, responding to Natasha's light questions with calculated calm. He didn't reveal much personal information, maintaining a professional and careful demeanor in his responses. Natasha tried to probe him about his work and interests, but Luke skillfully deflected, keeping the conversation on superficial topics.

During a momentary pause, Luke received a call on his cell phone. He discreetly stepped away to answer it, while you and Nat continued chatting. A few minutes later, Luke returned with a serious expression.

"Newton," Luke began, catching both your attention. "I just received an important call. We need to prepare for a trip to Seattle in a week. We have a client that requires our personal attention. We'll be there for a month."

You nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility on your shoulders. Natasha couldn't contain her excitement upon hearing about the trip. It was the perfect opportunity to gather evidence against Luke's criminal activities. She spoke with anticipation in her eyes. "That's great! I'd love to come along, if possible."

Luke seemed surprised by Natasha's suggestion, his gaze becoming more cautious. "Natalie, I'm not sure if…"

"I have family there, I don't need to know many details, I just didn't want to be away from Newton," Natasha said persuasively, while Luke looked at her with a wary gaze.

You smiled at Nat and kissed her gently. "Of course, you can come, right Luke?"

Luke nodded resignedly but with a faint smile. "Alright, then get ready for the trip."

While observing the tension in his voice, you recalled how meticulous he had been with security recently. First, insisting on buying a new computer for you, claiming it was safer and more efficient. Then, personally supervising the building's security system update. At the time, you thought it was just part of his protective nature as head of security. Now, however, looking at him, there was something in his behavior that made you wonder if he was hiding something.

The idea of betraying you was unbearable. If only she could find something to justify her mission, she could decide what to do next. She could stop everything, tell you the truth, and run away to Greece, or anywhere far from here.

On the flight, Natasha kept herself discreet, but every glance exchanged between you two left her more conflicted. You were excited about the trip, unaware of the internal turmoil Natasha was facing. She wanted to protect you, but how could she do that when she herself was the threat?

Upon arriving at the destination, Natasha checked into the same hotel as you, but Luke made sure she had no access to the meetings. He was vigilant, observing every interaction between you. You, on the other hand, seemed happy with the opportunity to explore the city alongside Natasha, oblivious to her true intentions.

Every night, as you fell asleep, Natasha stayed awake, lost in thought. She looked at you, feeling a mixture of tenderness and guilt. She knew she needed to act, to find something that would change everything. But until that happened, she stayed by your side, cherishing the time she still had.

Natasha Romanoff had no idea she wasn't the only one playing this game.

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Two - July 9, 2024

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Comments are appreciated :)

[reticent-writer]

heyyy PLEASE I NEEDD Vox x teen! Reader. Where she’s like the Vee’s assistant, or Vox’s assistant or something like that and she sees Vox as a father figure? Tyy

I like this alot

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

the most chaotic job in all of hell, like there is never a peaceful moment in the Vees tower. Someone is always yelling, something is always being broken, and you are in the middle of it. The peacemaker.

Your soul belongs to Vox but you assist all of the Vees. Your like 17/18. You were a hacker before you died, you hacked into the governments software and was killed for it.

You did the same thing to Vox but he didn't get mad instead he offered a secure home/job for your soul. (Seeing that everyone is dead that sounds silly but you shook his hand anyway)

If Vox isn't around to calm down Val and Velvette you're the next best thing. Valentino can talk your ears off as much as he wants and Velvette can use you as a model

In hell you can travel through electronics like Vox

Most of your time is spent with Velvette and Vox, mainly Vox. Vox has you do a lot of work that he trusts no one else with like going to the overlord meetings when no one else wants to

You are genuinely nice, like the other overlords wonder why you're working with the Vees

Your room doesn't have a door, so to get to your room you have to go through electronics to a backroom type of place. It's still in the Vees tower but no one but you or Vox and get to it.

Vox made it like this so if you wanted to be unbothered no one could even knock on your door.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚-Vox-˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

"Y/n are you awake."

You heard Vox from inside your room. You zapped you phone knowing that Vox you feel it. Basically saying you were getting up.

It took you 15 minutes to get ready before you teleported to the monitor room to find Vox watching random sinners on his big screen.

"I'm up, sir."

He dramatically spun his chair to face you.

"I hope it's been a hellish morning so far, what's on today's schedule."

You pulled out your phone and started to read off it, "the day doesn't start until 1 which is when the early talk show starts ot lasts until 3, at 5-7 is a game show, Velvette s show starts at 7, Valentino's live streaming a BDSM thing at 8, late night talk show at 10."

You looked at the time it was 8 am.

"Well since I'm free why don't we work on your mega computer." He offered. He likes how your face lit up and without wasting a second you dragged him to one of the quietest rooms in the building. In it was a desktop with a few wires connected to it.

Your mega computer was a project you started after you sold your soul. You hope it can connect to heaven one day and who is Vox to stop you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚-Velvette-˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You were in Fox's monitor room untangling cords.

"Y/N COME HERE." Velvette yelled at you through her phone.

You sighed as you stopped what you were doing and turn went through one of the many TVs.

"Yes, Vel." You smiled, clearly Vox was rubbing off on you.

"Something is missing with this outfit, tell me what it is." She pointed you in the direction of a mannequin with a outfit in your preferred style.

"(￣ヘ￣）ᵁᴹᴹ a (whatever you want)."

She hummed and with a snap of her fingers it appeared.

"Better right?"

"Yes."

"Good it's yours, take it" she snapped again and the outfit was in your hands, "no go put it on, I wanna see it."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, put it on."

-It looked amazing-

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚-Valentino-˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

"Vox said your not aloud in the studio so the least your could do is read the script." He said as he handed you a think packed.

"Jailbird gets hard time" you read loud in disgust, "do you really think I should be reading this?"

He scoffed, "oh please it's not like I can't see your browser history. A03, wattpad, Quotev, fanfiction.net the list goes on."

You stared at him in disbelief.

"What... Aww is someone embarrassed." He squished your cheeks. Your face was beat red.

"Aw, Chiquita, I don't judge. You should see the more kinky scrips."

"Oh no thanks. I think I hear Vox calling me. Bye." You reached his pocket for his phone and with a poor you were gone.

After that you made it so no one could see any of your activity.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

A/n: I don't like Valentino. I love his voice tho

[kachowden]

hiii i love your writing so much and i’ve been deprived of jessie so my brain keeps feeding me scenarios that i desperately need you to write FOR INSTANCE: jessie using his special android abilities to spy on darling (like hacking home security, their cellphone, fun stuff <3) and maybe he sees darling in some.. compromising positions, either with other people or on their own.. idk i just need more of him please i’ll take crumbs

Yandere Android x Reader <3

Tw: Stalking, Generally creepy behavior, NSFW themes, Masturbation, Jessie is a freak, Happy Valentines Day

<>. <3 .<>

It was a slow day, even by Jessie’s standards. In a fit of anxious motivation the night before, Jessie had finished a months worth of calculations for the company and was now left with nothing to do.

Especially since his favorite worker wasn’t present today.

You had been given a paid day off due to covering for 4 other workers during the holidays.

“I need the extra pay for my cat. His allergies are acting up again.”

He was happy your work got recognized, he just wished it had been another bonus. Or maybe a day in the rest lounge. Not at the apartments. Away from him. Physically anyway.

Though he’s sure you knew he would’ve given you a bonus regardless of you actually getting any work done.

Doing a quick scan of the days schedule, noting happily, though with less enthusiasm than usual, that he had no meetings today. Which meant no interruptions and no visits to his office.

Privacy.

And of course with that privacy he’d partake in his favorite past time, typically only during weekends.

Watching you from the comfort of his monitors.

Every apartment building has a series of cameras, that only few humans were aware of. Mostly as a way of monitoring the behaviors of coworkers and looking for signs of poor mental health.

If a worker showed signs of poor health, mental or physical, they were automatically removed from the schedule until they recovered or were deemed fit enough to come back and not hinder work.

Of course if the worker decided, they could resign from coming back completely.

He feared the day that ever happened to you though. He didn’t think he would last long without you in the building. He barely lasted the weekends as it was.

That wasn’t important right now though.

Right now he just needed some B75 TLC time.

1-4-3-7

With ease he typed in the memorized address and dorm number of your apartment complex. It was as easy as doing software scans, given how often he checked in on you.

All with your health in mind of course.

Clicking through the few firewalls he smiled anxiously when the screen showed Cam 1. Your living room.

It was hard not to zoom in on various items in your home, even if he had seen them dozens of times before. And memorized their exact location.

Not that was hard for him to do.

A few portraits. A single Vase with wilted flowers from a promotion party months ago.

A cat bed where your- lovely- hairless cat layed, glaring at where the camera was despite Jessie knowing for fact it couldn’t see it.

It didn’t remove any of the chill that permeated his synthetic skin.

His switched to Cam 3, your home office. The camera was already zoomed in from a previous- visit, and as he slowly zoomed out he paused briefly. Those weren’t what he thought they were right? He knew they were yours. Of course he did.

But why was your underwear on the floor??

His synthetic skin was burned a deep cerulean blue. You weren’t a messy person by any means. And typically any article of clothes he was lucky to find was typically in your bedroom. Where there was no camera.

With shakey hands, he fooled himself into believing it was a glitch, and finished zooming out.

Jessie’s voice box glitched when he choked.

There you were, his precious, hardworking, diligent worker, leaning back in your desk chair doing-

“Ah..fucken hell..”

He forgot there were speakers.

Scrambling to plug himself into the monitor his ears flooded with the sounds of you playing with yourself.

Every lewd, beautiful sound registering and imprinting itself onto his hard drive.

The blue of his senors glowed and blinked warnling. Various pop ups appearing in his vision, warning his system that he was overheating, though he merely pushed them away, his eyes entirely unblinking as he stared at the screen.

He felt dirty. Disrespectful in a way.

But he had never felt more alive either.

And god he could not look away. All his sensors were tuned in. He couldn’t hear, or see anything but you.

The only motors that were functioning anymore were his fans and arms. Which was proven when he felt a new pressure on his-lower half and his eyes snapped down to register his hand palming against his office issued jeans.

A loud whirring sound filled the room as his fans tirelessly worked to keep the android from malfunctioning.

His artificial eyes dilating non stop before he leaned back in his large directors chair, hands finally moving to unbuckle his jeans.

A glitched moan poured from the bots lips as he carefully stroked his already unbearably hard cock.

The logistics of an android having a functioning dick was unimportant at this specific time.

Jessie watched in morbid fascination as you fucked yourself to your computer screen. He couldn’t entirely make out what you were watching, but the faint blue glow on one of the individuals was unmistakable

Holy fuck were you watching android porn?

I mean yeah androids practically dominated the industry but you had made your stance on bots very clear. Yet here you were, touching yourself to a video of- was one of those his model??

“Fuck Y/n…” The whine that poured out would’ve been embarrassing if not for his already melted shame.

His receptors took in every detail he could while his hand satiated his growing need.

God he picture it so perfectly.

Your thighs cupped perfectly in his hands, his sensors taking in the softness of your skin, taking in the heat of your very alive being. Feeling you bounce on his cock- fuck or even fucking him against his desk instead.

He gasped and moaned lewdly at what his eyes began projecting in-front of him. You looked so fucken pretty. And you’d feel so fucking good too.

The new upgrade he got would come in handy.

His hand grew quick, timing his release with your own, just to feel a little closer as one of his hands frantically shuffled through a desk drawer, yanking out a coffee stained uniform shirt. your coffee stained uniform shirt specially.

Jessie shakinly held the fabric up to his nose, inhaling deeply with a gargled moan and hunched back. His hips rutting up into his hand once he threw himself back in the chair.

Fuck he was so close- if you just-

“Mm fuck-!”

He cried out when you finally finished, relishing in your labored breaths, his own glowing release staining the mahogany desk and floor.

He panted with no breath, fans on overdrive as he tried to calm himself down, quickly plugging himself into a nearby adapter to reset and power off.

His energy sources were horrifically depleted. He needed to rest.

“I’ll clean up tomorrow…when Y/- B75 comes back….”

Famous last words moment

[authorhjk1]

London

Cho Miyeon and Jeon Soyeon X Male Reader

For the last three days you didn't do much except for working and sleeping. Once you finally got to London, you were working without a break to solve the problems that could ruin your company. It started from important briefings and making decisions on a management level, to even working on the projects yourself.

The company located in London is a programming company. It's clients are other firms, which need their own technology for computers and equipment and stuff.

You don't know as much about writing code and programming as you would like. But you can write in two languages and you aren't that bad.

Because the company doesn't have a lot of employees since it's only a small one, you started helping out fixing the messed up code. For some reason, parts of the software you sold a couple of months ago didn't function properly.

It took several days to finally get rid of the most important problems. You leave the smaller ones to the employees, not wanting to neglect your other business for too long.

"And then, you are done for today."

"Are you sure?"

One of your assistants is walking with you. Or at least she is trying to. You always walk pretty fast, since you are always busy. And her wearing high heels makes her walk slower.

"Yes, sir. After the dinner meeting your schedule is clear."

"Thank you, Kate. I will see you tomorrow in the office."

"Have a great night, sir."

You get in your car, putting the address she gave you earlier into the GPS.

While driving through the streets of London, you try to relax yourself a little. This is the little alone time you have during your stay here.

Usually, there is always someone who wants to call you, someone who wants a business meeting, or an employee is having issues. And even if all of the above isn't the case, Kate is pretty much always there.

She really is a great assistant and you regret that you haven't been able to convince her to move to Korea yet. But you are sure that you are slowly getting there.

Once you arrive at the restaurant, you park your car and get in. It's a really nice one, you didn't expect anything less for the upcoming meeting. Walking past the occupied tables, you glance at the other customers. Everyone here is decently wealthy. That's why you are surprised, when you see five young women chatting away over dinner. You are even more surprised, when you find out that they are speaking Korean.

Either way you walk to the back, entering one of the private rooms.

"Mr. (L/n). Please have a seat."

"All of you are here already. Did I get the wrong time?"

"No don't worry. You are never late."

You wink at the man on the opposite side of the table.

It's true. You try to always be as early as possible. Your father once told you: early is on time and on time is late.

"I think we can all agree on this being the most profitable solution for all of us."

Looking around the table, you try to see how many of the six men you convinced. Sometimes it's hard to tell.

"Please don't be offended by my forwardness..."

You mentally roll your eyes. Why do people say this stuff. Either just say it and offend me, or shut up.

"But your company had trouble over the last week. And I'm not sure if you are the best person to partner with. At least right now."

You force yourself to smile.

"Well, that was only one of my companies and we already solved the problem completely. Even now my smaller company generates more profit than your big one."

The older guy looks like he is about to walk out. You honestly don't really care. You don't need all six to help you buy a whole airline. Two or three should be more than enough.

"I also have more than one company!"

"Of course you do. But I make triple the amount of money."

"That's enough! I'm leaving! You came here to ask us for help! And now you are insulting us?"

The other guys are watching the two of you. You don't care if he leaves, but you don't want them all to think that you want to exploit them.

"I'm not insulting anyone. You made fun of my company and I simply pointed out that it makes more money than yours."

"Fuck you!"

You raise your eyebrow as he storms out of the room.

Not paying anymore attention to him, you look at the others.

"I didn't ask you to come for help. I'm just offering a business proposal. Korean Air is doing average right now and I got a pretty good offer. If we invest together, we can make the airline even better. Generate more profit."

Honestly, you don't even need these men. You could buy Korean Air almost on your own. But you don't want to take the risk. If you do it like this, you will only get a third of the profits, but you will only lose a third if it goes South.

You try to keep yourself under control as you go through your emails. The rejection you got was surprising. You didn't expect them all to decline. The offer wasn't bad, so you wonder why they didn't go through with it. Why waste your time and meet them, when they are going to say no anyways?

Your focus falls on something else, when you read the next email. Another big problem with a program. You were sure that everything got fixed. Programs are usually quite forward and predictable. That's why you like them. But sometimes, it feels like their magical. In a bad way. Sometimes there is a problem, but you just can't understand why.

Just like right now.

"May I refill your glass, sir?"

You look up from your laptop.

Currently sitting in the lounge of the hotel you are staying at, you ordered a scotch earlier. You were tired and just trying to get over the failed dinner.

"No thanks. You got some tea?"

You need to concentrate now. And alcohol usually doesn't help with that.

After working around the clock for the last years, you made a habit out of not working in your living space. That includes your bedroom at home and also your hotel room. You always work in the lounge. It helps you concentrate and usually it's not that loud.

"We should've run more tests."

You mumble to yourself, while you open the problematic part of the code on your second laptop. There is a reason why you use a second laptop for coding. You learned the hard way, that it's not a good idea to write code on a computer where you have a lot of important data stored. If something goes horribly wrong, everything is lost. Making your operating system fail due to your code is never a good idea.

"Excuse me?"

Looking up from your laptop, you look at the woman standing in front of you.

"Can we sit here? The rest is all occupied."

You look around the room, only realizing it now.

"Sure."

You scoot over to one side of the couch. The woman and her friends sit down next to you and order something to drink. They look somewhat familiar. Have you met them before? You think about it for a second.

Maybe not.

You return your attention to your work. It's a little harder now, since the five women are talking right next you. Only a couple of minutes later you realize that they are speaking Korean. Now you recognize them. They are the same women, who were eating at the restaurant.

Looking at them for a moment longer, you realize how pretty they all actually are. One of them looks unbelievably cute and-

Stop it. You have to concentrate.

"Here is your tea, sir."

"Thank you."

You put your laptop onto the glass surface of the coffee table, before taking the cup of tea. Leaning back, you relax a little, still staring at your screen.

The woman with the light brown hair laughs at a joke. You can't help but glance at her, as her hand covers her mouth in an elegant way while she laughs. Her white dress with flowers on it makes her look very innocent and cute. Her face looks like one of a princess.

Suddenly the two of you lock eyes and you see her smile at you sweetly. You smile back politely, hoping you didn't get caught staring.

The black haired woman next to you thanks the waiter, when he brings their drinks. Her voice sounds somewhat deep and sultry. You like it.

Trying to concentrate again, you focus back on your laptop. The space you are sitting in is made out of two leather couches, forming an "L". You are sitting on the smaller side with two of the five girls. It's a little tight, but you don't mind.

The shoulder of the woman next to you keeps touching yours from time to time. You don't pay much attention to it, until her hand rests on her thigh.

One of her fingers carefully reaches out to you, touching your thigh. At first you think it's an accident, just like her shoulder, but then a second finger joins.

You are not sure what to make of this. Although you are trying to work, you can't deny that she looks pretty and it's not like you are uninterested.

When three of the girls go to the bathroom, only two remain. The black haired woman next to you and the woman with the light brown hair, who is sitting on the other couch.

The younger woman squeezes your thigh now, her nails slightly digging into your flesh.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it."

She whispers, without looking at you. Her friend doesn't seem to notice.

When she takes her drink and a napkin from the table, she lets go of the napkin. It couldn't have been more obvious, as it falls onto the ground between your legs. She reaches downwards, her hand brushing against your crotch.

"Soyeon, what are you doing?"

The older woman looks at Soyeon in confusion.

"Getting my napkin."

She smiles innocently while her hand brushes against your crotch again.

This time, her friend caught it. You could see it on her face. A hint of red appears on her beautiful features.

She doesn't say anything though.

Soyeon sees it too.

"Are you being shy? Come on. We have done this before."

You are not sure what is happening right now.

"He does look handsome."

Her cheeks are still slightly flushed, but she smiles cutely at you.

"There you go, unnie. Let's have some fun."

It feels like she isn't even asking for your opinion.

"Come here, princess."

You are surprised by the sudden name calling, but the brunette woman does what Soyeon says.

She gets up from the couch and walks over, standing in front of you.

"Hi, I'm Miyeon. Do you mind if I sit on your lap?"

The high level of confusion you are experiencing right now must be evident on your face.

"Of course he doesn't."

Soyeon answers for you.

Miyeon gives you a peck on the forehead, before sitting down on you. Her back facing you.

Not sure what to do, you admire her body from behind. Her naked shoulders seem to be created by an angel. Or maybe she is an angel? Her face and her outfit suggest that.

But her actions don't. Although her hands are placed on her thighs, you feel Miyeon slowly moving on top of you.

"You know what?"

Soyeon whispers in your ear and you are barely able to shake your head.

"Our little princess has been a naughty girl."

Miyeon looks over her shoulder at you.

"Please punish me."

You really want to. But you are sitting in a public space.

"But you aren't done with work. Are you, sweetie?"

The younger woman's voice seems to radiate pure lust.

"Please, daddy. Punish your little princess."

Miyeon does a little aegyeo, trying to convince you.

"How about we split the work? I write on the laptop the stuff you dictate and you punish this naughty girl."

Soyeon kisses your cheek before grabbing your laptop.

You are still conflicted, but Miyeon lifting her skirt makes you decide very quickly. She exposes her naked butt, revealing her panties. They are matching with her dress. White. With flowers on them.

You can't do much else but watch as the woman on top of you slowly pulls the fabric to the side. Meanwhile Soyeon is opening your pants, fishing out your cock.

You are already hard at the sight of Miyeon and the younger woman's smirk shows that she is satisfied.

"Put your arms around her. She needs a lot of care when she is getting punished."

You do as she says, wrapping your arms around the brunette's waist.

Soyeon strokes your shaft slowly, before guiding it towards Miyeon's entrance.

The older woman sighs in pleasure as Soyeon teases her folds with your cock.

You are still very much aware that you are in public. But it seems to matter less and less.

Slightly lifting herself off you, Miyeon enables Soyeon to line up your tip with her entrance.

"Be a good princess and take daddy's cock well."

"Yes, mistress."

Miyeon moans quietly, when she lowers herself onto you. Your head falls back as you are almost unable to take it. Miyeon is by far the tightest you have ever had. It's almost painful to even enter her. Her walls clench around your cock tightly, squeezing it with all her strength.

You can't see yourself entering her because Miyeon let her dress fall down again. It looks as if she is just sitting on your lap. But both of your faces show, what is actually happening. You feel like it takes ages for Miyeon to completely slide down your shaft. You wonder if you could ever leave her again.

"Come one, sweetie. You have to get your work done."

Half of your attention moves back to Soyeon. It's like she is almost torturing you.

"Alright."

You can barely speak as Miyeon slowly begins her journey upwards.

"Int ETC = 5."

Soyeon types what you say.

"Int ETD = 9."

You are very glad that you are almost done with the code, so it isn't that hard. But Miyeon does her best to distract you. She lowers herself back onto you again.

You are still not entirely sure how you ended up in this situation. But Miyeon's tight snatch makes it hard concentrate on much else.

"Right_Coordinates( Program_C, 15, 70)."

Soyeon does as you say. You watch her typing in the code.

"Next."

It's like she doesn't even care that you are buried inside of Miyeon to the hilt. The brunette leans against you as her pleasure begins to increase. Although she is going slowly, the situation makes her horny. She never did this in public. Her pussy clenches around you as the thought of getting caught flashes through her mind.

You still hold Miyeon's waist, controlling her pace. It takes immense amount of self-control to not just fuck her brains out right now. She makes you go crazy with her pussy, tempting you to do more. Tempting you to tighten your grip. To make her bounce up and down your cock.

But you stay still. Trying to get out of this without getting caught.

"Sweetie?"

Soyeon is mocking you. She must know exactly what you are fighting through right now, but she is still making you work. It's as if the two are punishing you.

"If (ETC > XXX)

get.image045

else

get.image056."

You are glad that you are getting closer to the end of the code.

"Daddy, can you play with your princesses clit, please?"

Miyeon's begging makes you focus all of your attention back to her.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes, daddy."

"But aren't you supposed to be punished?"

You can feel the disappointment coming from Miyeon.

"But... But I need it."

Her cute voice tries to convince you to give in.

"How much do you need it?"

You know how to play this game. You are very good at it. And you attempt to punish the brunette really bad.

"I feel like I can't live without you. I can't live without daddy's cock."

Pretending not to listen, you dictate the next couple of lines.

"Daddy needs to pay attention to his princess. Or she will become really naughty."

"Is that a threat?"

Miyeon keeps gliding along the length of your shaft without rest.

"It's a prediction. Princess would never threaten daddy."

Her usage of the pet names makes you grow even harder inside of her. You are sure the brunette feels it.

Soyeon nudges you with her elbow.

"Return DDW."

She does as you say.

But Miyeon really does become impatient. In an instant she grabs your knees instead of her thighs. Raising her hips again, she impales herself on your cock.

"Add a semicolon and-Fuck."

You moan as Miyeon reaches your base with a new speed. It feels like she has become tighter. It feels like you are even deeper inside of her now. Before you can stop her, Miyeon raises and falls one more time. You see stars. Tightening your grip on her waist, you hold her in place. You are still buried inside her, while she is unable to move.

"I told you I will become naughty."

You quietly agree.

"You should bring me to your room. Just tear this dress off me and bend me over."

Being a great business man, your self-control is very high. But Miyeon almost makes you break. You want to bend her over right now. But you can't. Instead, you move your mouth to her skin. Sucking on it, you shut her up for a moment. She feels smooth and flawless. A cute moan leaves her lips, as she feels yours on her skin.

But she recovers too quickly from your attack.

"You should spank me really hard. Because I was so naughty. Because I was craving daddy's cock."

Her words and her appearance are just not matching. She looks like a princess, she sounds like a princess, but she speaks like a little brat.

"I'm going to give you the punishment you deserve."

"Yes, daddy. Please."

Miyeon leans her head back, letting it rest on your shoulder.

"Use my body how you want."

"I will."

You whisper into her ear. Hands still on her waist, you begin to make her move again. Miyeon happily complies.

Glancing at the computer, you read the last line.

"Return DDW; Fuck!"

"Don't write that. Delete the last words."

"Are you sure?"

Soyeon looks at you innocently.

"Yes. I am."

You watch her deleting the last word.

"Okay. Now you need to go the main function."

"What? How?"

You growl in disbelief. Miyeon's movements make you very impatient. And you should have predicted that Soyeon doesn't know much about writing code.

"Go the last line of the whole code."

While she does it, you feel Miyeon sneakily taking one of your hands in hers. Slowly, she guides it towards her core.

"Now what?"

You are distracted by Soyeon.

"System_FG(motion, 50, 70, 6)"

In that moment you feel your hand move under Miyeon's dress.

"Miyeon."

You scold her, making the brunette stop.

"But daddy. Don't you want to make me cum?"

"I do. But not here."

You don't even think about it. You know you want to. From the moment she sat in your lap you wanted to.

While your hand joins the other again, you look at the screen.

"If( ETD < SGH)

Return Exit_Failure

else

Return SGH."

You lean your head back, once Soyeon put in the last semicolon. You honestly don't know if it's compilable, but you decide that it's an unimportant detail for now.

"It's finished."

"You did so well."

You sigh in relief, while Soyeon puts down your laptop. Miyeon smiles at you over her shoulder.

"Now daddy can punish his princess properly."

In that moment you remember their friends.

"Wait. What about the others?"

"Don't worry. They are out."

Soyeon turns towards you. Her elbow on the armrest and her chin on her hand.

"How about you show us your room?"

It took you longer than expected to leave Miyeon. You didn't really want to, although you knew you could fuck her soon enough. But her tightness was almost traumatizing. When you finally did leave her pussy, you almost forgot to take your laptops with you. The cause of that was Soyeon, whispering dirty words into your ear.

She is unable to do it now though, since her mouth is occupied. Pressing her against the wall of the elevator, you make out with Soyeon passionately.

Although it probably takes you only five to ten minutes to your room, Miyeon's need for your touch can't wait. That's why your hand is under her dress, while your tongue is in Soyeon's mouth.

After what you did in the lounge, the fear of getting caught vanished. You guide the two women to your room, or your suite rather.

Once you are inside, you are already occupying Soyeon's lips once more. You feel Miyeon pressing her body against yours from behind.

"Daddy. Give me some attention."

Her cute voice enters your ear from behind. Her hands roam your body, occasionally touching your crotch in the process.

"It's my turn, slut."

Soyeon mumbles into your mouth, while she undoes you tie. Your tongue explores her mouth, while your hands wander over her figure.

You feel the naked skin of her back. You feel her thigh, when you drop your hand lower. Her body seems to be made for you to touch. And the way Soyeon moans into your mouth shows that she thinks the same.

When you are about to undo the strings of fabric on her back, Soyeon pushes you away a little. Taking the loose tie, which is now dangling around your neck, into her hands, she looks past you at Miyeon.

"Time for your punishment, princess."

Her tone is lustful and deep. The brunette looks excited and curious at the same time. In an instant, Soyeon has wrapped your tie around her wrists, tying them together.

"You have been such an impatient and naughty princess this whole time. Now you have to watch me getting fucked."

Miyeon's expression changes from excitement to horror.

"No. Please. I need daddy's cock."

"Silence. Just watch."

With that, Soyeon pushes Miyeon, making her fall onto the bed behind her. Because her hands are behind her back, she can't get up. She can't touch you. She can't even touch herself.

"Daddy!"

Her cry for help falls on deaf ears, as you watch Soyeon turn towards you.

"You are mine now."

Like a hungry lion, Soyeon jumps you. Quite literally. Because she is kinda short, she had to stay on her toes during making out. Now she jumps into your arms, making you hold her like this. Your hands are squeezing her naked thighs as Soyeon crashes her lips into yours.

"Daddy!"

You keep ignoring her while you kiss Soyeon deeply. Her lips still taste like the drink she had. Something sweet. Her hands hold onto your neck, not letting you go.

Once she has had enough, Soyeon whispers into your ear.

"Fuck me. Fuck me so hard that Miyeon cums from just watching. Without touching herself. Begging for your dick."

Without a word, you turn Soyeon around and push her. She lands on the bed too. Her head at Miyeon's feet. Finally having her where you want her, you undo the strings of her top, exposing her fully naked back. Your tongue starts its journey from her neck. Slowly traveling over to her shoulders. Then her back. You kiss and lick her skin while holding her in place.

Soyeon moans at your touch, unable to predict what spot you focus on next. Her eyes rest on Miyeon. The brunette has managed to sit up, leaning against the headboard. The lust in her eyes makes them dark pools of desire as she watches you worship Soyeon's perfect skin.

"Daddy."

Her begging has been reduced to a pitiful whine. Finally making eye contact with her, you see her smile. Hoping for you to change your mind. Hoping that she got punished enough.

Instead you reach down, moving your hand underneath Soyeon's skirt. Pulling her thong to the side, you slip one finger into the young woman. You are surprised at her wetness. Seems like the foreplay in the lounge got her off more than you thought. You finger her slowly, while keeping eye contact with Miyeon.

The brunette's cheeks are flushed as she watches you. She bites her quivering lip, needing release. A small part of her mind wonders, if she can actually cum without getting touched. But most of her focus is on you as you drop to your knees.

Soyeon is still bend over the bed, her knees on the floor. With one long lick, you taste her pussy from the bottom to the top.

"Fuck!"

Soyeon curses as you start to eat her out. Your hands hold her ass cheeks, kneading them, while your tongue pleasures her. The younger woman's moans make Miyeon want to get eaten out, too. The way her body moves when you hit the right spot. The way her glassy eyes look up at the brunette. The way her hands hold onto the bed sheets.

Miyeon feels her own pleasure rising. She imagines that she is the one bend over the bed. That she is the one that has your tongue in her pussy. That she is the one that moans in ecstasy.

"Daddy. I'm so sorry for being a naughty girl."

Her sobs make you look up for just a moment. Miyeon's cheeks are now bright red. A small trickle of blood is leaving her lower lip, where she bit to hard on it. She keeps trying to get the tie off her wrists, but her efforts become weaker.

"Daddy. I want to be a good princess."

"You will be."

It's a short answer. But it's the only one she is getting. At least for now. You pull Soyeon further onto the bed, positioning her on all fours.

"Yes. Fuck me good. Show that little slut what she is missing."

You push Soyeon's back further down, her ass moving higher in the process. Your tip brushes against her folds and she lets out another moan.

"Pound me."

It's a simple order. A good one. You do as she says.

Sliding inside of her, you feel Soyeon getting pushed forward. Her hair now falling onto Miyeon's naked feet. She took her shoes off when she entered your room. Now her hair is tickling her feet. Miyeon certainly is getting punished. There is no doubt about it.

You start to fuck Soyeon in front of the young brunette. Her pussy is wetter than Miyeon's, but not as tight. You can't help but compare the two of them.

"Fuck!"

Soyeon moans as you move in and out of her. Her wet walls let you glide easier through her. Reaching forward, you grab her hair, wrapping it around your fingers. It makes her raise her head, looking straight at Miyeon. The two of them lock eyes.

The brunette whines as she watches her friend getting fucked like this. She keeps imagining that it's her. But just watching isn't quite the same. Miyeon needs more. She needs more friction. She needs touching. Moving around a little, she tries to slip out of your tie, but to no prevail. Soyeon knows how to tie a tie.

Unable to move much, she has to watch. She doesn't want to look away from the scene in front of her. She can't.

Soyeon's glassy eyes as you fuck her from behind. Her black hair wrapped around your hand, while you pull her head up. Soyeon scratching at the sheets, as you hit the right spot in her pussy. Your hand at her waist, holding her tight. Your shirt that got unbuttoned, showing off your muscles. Sweat slowly forming on your chest.

All of it she takes in. Miyeon starts to feel hotter. And when you fuck Soyeon harder, she feels like you are doing her harder. The brunette experiences your and Soyeon's act of sin as if she is participating. She smells your and Soyeon's scent. The sweat. The smell of sex. All of it.

And with that, Miyeon grinds on your pillow. She doesn't even realize it at first. But the pleasure in her body and in her mind starts to build up. Like waves. Like waves that are about to crash onto the rocks.

Hearing Miyeon whimper louder, you look up. You have been paying attention to Soyeon, but the sight of the brunette like this is a rare moment to witness. Her teary eyes begging you to touch her. She grinds on your pillow, showering it with her scent and probably with her juices soon as well.

Seeing her like this only makes you fuck Soyeon harder. And faster. Your hand leaves her hair and both of them reach for her shoulders. With new found strength, you give it to her hard. Pulling her towards you, while you push forward. With every thrust. You can't see her face, but Miyeon's makes up for it.

"Oh god!"

Soyeon moans louder as you fuck her as hard as you can. Miyeon looks like she is dying of thirst. Sexual thirst.

"Yes! Harder!"

Soyeon becomes more vocal. She starts to speak more, as you feel her hot cavern tighten around you.

"Daddy. Please fuck me after you make her cum."

Miyeon is begging once more as she feels the waves of pleasure in her body building up. Higher and higher. Her anticipation grows, wanting to see how Soyeon cums around your cock.

And the black haired woman does her that favour only a few moments later. Her moans become longer. Her breathing heavier. Her walls tighter. Her pussy wetter.

And then she cums. You stop moving as you are forced out of her by her juices. They spill onto your sheets and onto your legs, dripping down onto the floor. A long drawn out moan escapes Soyeon's mouth. It feels like it's going on for hours, until she finally falls flat onto the bed. You honestly have to say that you are dead tired as well. But there is still someone else in the room. One down (quite literally) and one more to go.

Looking at Miyeon, you are surprised, when you see her shaking slightly. Her eyes are shut tight, her teeth digging into her lips. Her hands twisting behind her back, while she trembles on top of the pillow. You realize that she is cumming, too. Not as hard as Soyeon, but hard enough that it rocks her body. The build up waves finally crash onto her. Drowning her in pleasure and arousal. Making her gasp for air.

Catching your breath, you wait a minute for Miyeon to calm down. When her eyelids flatter open, her eyes focus on you.

"Princess."

You slowly walk towards her, while using her pet name. She looks up at you. Desire and hope glistening in her dark orbs.

"Do you think you have been punished enough?"

"Yes, daddy."

Miyeon nods immediately. There is no way she can hold on for much longer. Her hunger for you slowly consuming her small body.

"Turn around."

It's not easy for her to do so. But her eagerness helps her. Once her back is facing you, you see her move her fingers.

"Is daddy going to get these off?"

You reach out to stroke her hair. She seems to relax a little at your touch. Once your hand reaches the back of her head, you suddenly hold her. In one motion you push her forward. You shove Miyeon head first into the mattress. Hearing her squeal in surprise turns you on even more. Your hand rests on her naked back, making it impossible for her to get out of this situation.

Teasing her labia with your cock, you bend down towards her ear.

"You fucked me without asking earlier. Now it's my turn."

You can't understand her response. Her voice muffled by your sheets. But the moan that escapes her lips is too loud to be soaked up by the sheets. As you push into her, you feel Miyeon squirm underneath you.

This is what she has been longing for, for the past thirty minutes. Since the moment you slipped out of her pussy. The feeling of your cock as deep as it would go inside her tight snatch.

Like the first time, bottoming out inside of Miyeon makes your head spin. Her tightness is unmatched.

"If princess cums like a good girl, I will untie her."

No answer. Only a lewd moan as you withdraw your cock almost entirely. You start out with slow and deep strokes. Similar to the way Miyeon was riding you earlier. Enough friction for the both of you to feel unbelievable pleasure. But at the same time too slow to satisfy your desires.

Miyeon's smooth walls clench onto your cock as you give her deep thrusts from behind. After a while you loosened your grip on her head, enabling the brunette to move it a little. Now her mouth isn't muffled by the sheets anymore.

"Daddy! Harder! Faster!"

It seems like those are the only words in her vocabulary right now. She repeats them over and over again. As if she is chanting a spell. With every trust you deliver, you fuck her harder. And with every word of hers, you fuck her faster.

Soon you are pounding Miyeon head first into the mattress. You know she loves it by the way her body twists in front of you. Sweat is making her bare back and shoulders sparkle in the light. Her brown hair starting to stick to her skin.

It's what Miyeon has been dreaming about, since you started to fuck Soyeon in front of her. To get used like a toy. To be a good princess. To take your cock like a good girl.

Putting one foot on the bed, you start to thrust harder.

"Oh my god!"

This way you somehow reach further into her depths. If you had to describe infinite pleasure, you would mention Miyeon's face. Her features are twisted. Her eyes rolling. Her mouth open, drooling onto your sheets. The princess like aura that you thought she had in the beginning has been washed away by the waves of pleasure. They hit her body over and over again.

"Cumming!"

Miyeon's high voice almost makes you lose your hearing. When she cums, her pussy almost squeezes the life out of you. You have to stop moving, afraid you are going to hurt her or yourself. It's almost painful as her tight snatch contracts around you. It feels wonderful at the same time. You can't help but groan as Miyeon shakes in front of you.

When she finally calms down from her high. You are still not moving. The brunette breaths heavily. Beats of sweat dropping from her cute nose onto the sheets.

"I think you have to let him go, princess."

You didn't even realize that Soyeon is now sitting next to Miyeon. You were too focused on punishing her. It seems like Soyeon's exhaustion is gone after she watched you rail her friend into oblivion.

"My turn."

Soyeon slowly helps you to retreat out of Miyeon's snatch. She is still too tight to move at a normal pace, so it takes a moment until you leave her. Her freshly fucked pussy looks delicious and you can't help yourself but give it a deep kiss. Miyeon moans into the sheets as she feels your tongue.

In that moment you feel Soyeon's tongue on your cock.

"Wow. Princess, you taste really good."

You can only agree as you push your tongue a little deeper into her tight cavern.

Unfortunately, you find yourself getting closer at Soyeon's work. Her skillful tongue playing with the tip of your cock, while her lips are wrapped around you.

"Wanna ride you."

No question. Not asking for permission. This girl is really something. Letting go off your cock, Soyeon moves aside so that you can lie down on the bed. She straddles your lap and a second later, you are inside of Soyeon once more.

"Oh gosh!"

She throws her head back as she rides you fast from the start. You can't do much else but hold her waist. To your surprise, you see a pair of quivering thighs enter your vision.

"Please daddy."

Miyeon keeps crawling backwards, until her pussy is right over your face. Moving your hands, you grab her butt, forcing her lower. Miyeon sits up straight, while she lowers herself onto your mouth. You give her a long lick up and down, before you focus your attention on her clit.

"Holy-"

Her curse is interrupted by Soyeon's loud moaning behind her.

While you eat out Miyeon, Soyeon keeps riding you. The two women moaning in tandem, as they both take pleasure from you. Soyeon's wet entrance coats your cock with her juices as she bounces on you. The brunette's hips buck against your face, desperate for more friction.

At one point, it feels like both of them are riding you at almost the same pace. You have to hold Miyeon down with her thighs, trying to make her cum. You feel her getting out of rhythm already. Because she still has her dress on, you can't see much of what's going on, but what you feel is more than enough. Your orgasm seems to be approaching. Slowly but steady.

Soyeon's work makes you groan into Miyeon's pussy, making the woman on your face finally cum again. She tugs at your hair desperately as more and more waves crash onto her small frame.

You grab her thighs harder, trying to prevent yourself from cumming in this moment. You might be leaving red marks on her creamy skin, but at this point the three of you are too far gone anyway. Soyeon impales herself over and over again with your cock. She spits out horrible curses as you feel her pussy getting wetter again.

You love the contrast between the two women. Soyeon is extremely wet and doesn't care what she says while she rides you. She only takes what she wants, not asking for your pleasure. Then there is Miyeon. She is unbelievably tight. Her cute face at odds with the filth that comes out of her mouth, when she is desperate. She is truly needy. Ready to do anything so that you keep pleasuring her.

Both of them are using your body. You don't complain as you feel yourself slowly trembling towards the edge.

"I'm gonna a cum."

You hiss into Miyeon's snatch, making her climax one more time. You don't know if its because you are eating her out, or the prospect of making you cum. Either way, she shakes on top of you.

Soyeon begins to slow down, breathing heavily. You only met the two of them about two hours ago, but you are sure that your climax doesn't mark the end of this activity.

As Miyeon collapses over your body again, Soyeon gets off your cock. Suddenly feeling her lips, you close your eyes.

"Come here, princess. You deserve a drop."

Miyeon acts surprisingly fast. In one motion, she turns around, still sitting on your face. You start to lick her folds again, hearing her moan deliciously. Then, you feel a second pair of lips on your cock. The two of them are making out with your cock from both sides. Their tongues twisting and playing.

At one point you are unable to keep pleasuring Miyeon. The only thing you can do is just lie there. It only takes a couple of moments.

Feeling your cock twitch, Soyeon takes you into her mouth, while Miyeon keeps working your shaft. You groan as you finally cum. Soyeon keeps sucking you as you shoot your cum into her mouth. She moans in satisfaction. When your head finally stops spinning, you hear the two of them kiss. It sounds like Soyeon is sharing some of your cum with Miyeon.

"Don't drop it."

It's the only thing she says and you are disappointed that you are unable to watch. Soyeon's hand at your base indicates that the two of them aren't done, though.

[itsbenedict]

okay, so- the past three days have been pretty insane, hence no to-do lists. did not know hour-to-hour what in the hell i'd have to do next.

monday morning, there was a company meeting, and it was announced that we were being sold. this was not... the most surprising thing in the world, because about a month ago there was this sudden hasty push by the top to reorganize the business into distinct independent units that didn't depend on shared services. like, what else would the point of doing that be, if not to sell off pieces of the business? sure, they said that wasn't happening, but who the hell was fooled by that?

so i used to do most of my work on these projects for this one specific business unit, building and running a bunch of middleware API integrations for our learning management system. but my boss, who used to be in charge of the dev team generally, got assigned to this totally different unit- and she liked me enough that she pushed really hard to get me reassigned to her unit.

so i was already conflicted about that:

i really like my boss- she's really understanding of my need for flexibility to work on my side projects, she only cares that i get the work done (and even with many side projects, i still consistently exceed expectations and get a full-time workload done ahead of schedule), and she was pushing hard to get me a raise against upper management who'd taken to using covid austerity as an excuse to never give anyone any raises ever. and the team assigned to this unit didn't have any senior devs who could handle a big infrastructure transition, and i'd just become AWS certified, and without someone like me, my coworkers assigned to that unit would be in some hot water. plus, after the transition, maintaining a reduced suite of products would probably be easier day-to-day.

but on the other hand, all my projects in the other business unit, with the LMS- those are pretty vital, and the nature of the contracts with those clients necessitates frequent maintenance and changes. my code for those integrations is bad, for various reasons but mainly that there is no dev environment for testing changes. it's fundamentally about managing production data in databases we don't directly control, so every change has to be done very quickly and carefully, with no room for big refactors to clean things up (and risk breaking stuff). it's a mess, and no one in the other business unit is prepared to take it over. plus- i liked working directly with clients, doing work where if i did the work someone was appreciative of the work. it was motivating!

ultimately, i decided to trust my boss and follow her to the other business unit. we weren't completely splitting from the rest of the business- i'd still be able to train up someone else to take over my projects, we'd still have the shared customer accounts management software, and- crucially- i'd still have the boss who understood my needs and had no interest in squeezing value out of me.

so i went on vacation for a couple weeks right after committing to that decision- and then i came back on monday, and that day they announce we're being sold.

also that my boss is fired and being replaced by someone from the new company.

also that we have two months to completely disconnect all our products from shared service infrastructure and rebuild our own.

also no takesies-backsies, the acquisition agreement included terms that the former company not hire back any of the sold-off employees or even discuss the acquisition with them at all. no chance to react to the new information except to sign the new offer letter by close of business on Wednesday.

i was unhappy about this! can you tell???

so my first thought was- okay, this is bullshit. i still want to work for the LMS people, the LMS people still want me to work for them, there has to be a solve here. so i go to the guy in charge of that division, who also wants me to keep working there, and he says okay i'll have our lawyers look into it.

and then... he gets back to me sounding like a robot, "i am unable to discuss this further with you at this time", which is so obviously out of character for the guy that i can tell legal's thrown the book at him. i talk to legal myself- it's a dead end. they can't- they're unable to even talk about why they can't talk about it, because obviously this deal was engineered to prevent me from doing exactly what i'm trying to do here.

so i go at it from the other angle. president of the sold company, now a wholly-owned for-profit subsidiary of a nonprofit organization (is that even allowed???), i explain to him, hey, this is a mistake, i'm only here because my old boss really wanted me to be on her team, surely you can let me go continue doing my actual job?

nope.

so then i start playing hardball.

the salary they're offering me is, adjusted for inflation, less than the salary i was offered two years ago, which had come with the (entirely failed) non-promise that i'd be bumped up to a certain level very quickly after some formalities re: the employment structure. i explain, in detail, how upset i am with the entire state of affairs- and i threaten to walk, which i am allowed to do. i'm not required to sign their new contract- i'd need to go job-hunting, sure, but i have money in the bank, i can afford to do it, and i could definitely get a better deal somewhere else.

this is a tense situation! my old boss knew this team needed me- but they unceremoniously fired her while she was on vacation, so her opinion doesn't mean dirt to them apparently. it's unclear how vital i really am to this- they could maybe train up one of the other devs to handle the AWS stuff.

and on my side- if i walk, that's it. all that horrible messy code for the LMS stuff- i don't get two months to train someone else up and write documentation and do some housecleaning. i'm gone! my horrific dirty laundry (and hours and hours of regular maintenance work) gets handed off to some other dev who's totally unprepared for it, and that person inevitably puts a curse on my entire family line as retribution for me leaving them holding that intolerable bag. i don't actually want to walk, because then i end up the bad guy in the eyes of people i respect and care about.

(also i'd have to do a job hunt and that shit is so god damn annoying you have no idea you probably have some idea.)

so i tell the guy, look- i can do better. i'm basically starting over doing harder work at an unfamiliar company, and if i'm doing that anyway, why not do it for someone who'll pay me? if you don't give me X amount of money, i'm walking out, and now you don't have an infrastructure guy during the two-month window you have to migrate a shit-ton of infrastructure. i am a serious dude and you can't just fuck with me!

(and inside i'm like:

because oh god i am not a serious dude i am so easily fucked with what if i'm pushing my luck too hard)

and he lets me fuckin' stew. 5:00 on wednesday i need to have either signed a contract or not signed a contract, and he hedges and goes to talk with the higher-ups and makes no promises, and i have no idea whether it's because i scared him or if he's trying to work out how to replace me or what. all this negotiation has been eating my brain for the past couple days and it's coming down to the wire-

and then a couple hours before the deadline he gets back to me with a counteroffer. it's less than i was asking, because that's how negotiations work, but it is more than i was making when i was brought on, by a good 10k.

so now it's on to round two. i'm gonna stick around for this two-month period, make this transition work, clean up my mess and take care of things with my now ex-coworkers- and then if they haven't either proven their management is tolerable or given me a crystal-clear path to advancement, we're back to the standoff- except this time, they'll have a good idea of exactly what it is they stand to lose.

haaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. okay. okay. yeah. so that's dealt with for the time being. i can breathe now. we'll see how it goes. fuck.

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 30

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Intercrural Sex

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

This chapter is dedicated to @hijinxensues aka Sofa, the true sitting foundation for me! Not only did they pioneer the most incredible weekend last week, but they are a superstar in their own right. I'll never be able to thank you enough for all that you've done for me!

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

You felt like you were trapped in the land of inconveniences. Without a specific source, you had instead been bombarded with a thousand little things that wore away at your very soul. It had started with the roll-out of a new software at your company. They’d eaten up three hours of every single morning with crash course training over the course of a week. Only sympathetic to a point, they’d given the maddeningly flippant response of not moving deadlines and instead said that they would work with each person individually if work were to fall behind. It left the entire company in a rushed state with no exact course of action. Team leads were under pressure which trickled up to their managers and beyond. It was under these conditions that the stage of your discomfort was set.  

So when inevitably things with the new system didn’t work out, you were forced to move up the chain of command. When they predictably could not get back to you in a timely manner because they were being flooded with questions, you’d switch tasks. There you’d hit another wall and have to repeat the process over again. Infuriated by the cycle, you went off to manage the things you could. It was there you’d found the vending machine currently out of order. You hadn’t even necessarily wanted a snack, but being denied one was a kick to the shins.

Leaving it for coffee was knowing full well that the caffeine would aggravate the problem. You only needed an excuse to not look at your computer. Arriving in the little break room found someone had taken it upon themselves to descale the two pots there. Mad because you hadn’t thought of starting the distracting process first, you stewed watching the coworker who had used the process as an excuse to unshackle themselves from their desk. Thinking you wanted in on the knowledge, the flick of their gaze as they explained oozed false confidence. It was like they were rubbing it in the face of each person who entered. They’d found a way out and since no one else had, they used it to fuel their twisted form of satisfaction.

Left with nothing to do but percolate at your desk, you returned and slumped in your chair. Waking up your computer found your team lead had messaged if you were available to chat. Having missed the message by five minutes, you threw back a response and all but collapsed when nothing returned. The person was gone again, presumably moved on to the next in their queue. Stuck, you picked through menial tasks which ate up little time. Then your team lead got back only to schedule a meeting for an hour and a half later. It meant that whatever you started next would most certainly be interrupted. 

Clicking through windows, you predictably had just gotten into it when the meeting time came around. You readied yourself and dug out your headset only to find a new email in your inbox. A quick tap found it was a postponement of said meeting and you stared at it with righteous fury. Glowering, you chugged your water just as an excuse to empty it. You then carried your bottle to the cooler where far too many people were congregated. Already knowing that to be a ticking time bomb, you still needed the H20. You got only about halfway through holding down the tap when a manager wandered upon the scene. Where everyone else scattered, you were a little too emboldened. You turned towards the man and shot him what you hoped was a busied look as water continued to pour into your jug. It must have not been the facial expression you meant because he soured and tossed a ‘get back to your desk when you’re done’ before walking away.

With him out of sight, you yanked the bottle back to your person only for the lid to not be screwed on tight. It meant water leaked and flicked over your shoe and torso. The dampness on your shirt was one thing, but the one down your foot hit at the perfect angle to where it absorbed into your sock. It meant with every step there was a faint squish of fabric that felt like an insult to injury. Stomping back to your cubicle, you slammed the water down only for the latent leak to spray droplets over your desk. Cleaning them up with a discarded napkin, you’d forgotten you’d shoved a piece of gum in said cloth earlier and smeared the sticky substance across your desk. Wanting to knock yourself out just to stop the onslaught, you instead did your best to clean it up. Already on the manager’s bad side, you needed to lay low and not grab a watered down cleaning solution from the break room.

Stuck with a faint residue, you tacked on your computer until the meeting came around a second time. It was there that your team lead revealed the purpose of said meeting was to round up questions. The others in your department were somehow prepared while you scrambled to compile your full list as they took their turns. When it came to you, you felt red in the face as your questions paled into comparison to the intricate ones they asked. Your team lead’s attitude was buoyant nonetheless and they ended with a promise of action. Sinking over having waited hours for that, you typed away on a copy with exaggerated key presses. Your gossipy coworker shot you a message that you responded to in a clipped few words. You weren’t in the mood for him to rattle off whatever was on his mind. At this point, you just needed to run out the clock.

At 5 you were blatantly staring at your phone. It meant you could clock out within seconds of the time’s rollover and were in motion. Riding the tide of heading home, you emerged from your cubicle to find others were on a similar journey. A bottleneck throttled the elevators and you threw your head back when you were forced to wait until the third boarding. It was a comically slow shuffle to get on and when you finally hit the ground floor, you thought about fleeing the premises in an all out jog. Biding your limited energy, you instead walked among the masses of suits at the pace they set. It meant multiple shovings were inevitable, but having someone’s old lunch bag bust on your shoulder was not. You barked at the assailant viciously only to realize it was a pregnant woman looking mortified. She explained she hadn’t been able to eat due to morning sickness and was near tears at your anger. Fizzling out into a sea of self-hatred, you tried to roll back, but the damage was done. Several people around you outwardly scoffed and you were forced to slink away.

Public transit was then packed at peak hours and the tuna salad on your sleeve made you public enemy number one in the already hostile environment. Shouldering off your jacket in an attempt to hide the smell, you stewed on only your exhaustion and starvation. Lunch seemed eons ago and, even with the off-putting scent, you were ravenous. It was in that thought space that you remembered it was your night in the dinner rotation. You would have wilted straight to the ground were it not for the mysterious puddle at your feet. Liquids on the grounds of New York were nearly always toxic and you were locked into standing in it by the many commuters. Berating yourself for the moderately difficult dish you’d chosen to prepare, you went through scenarios on how to best persuade Donnie into ordering take-out. 

Donnie.

Perking up only slightly, you considered your boyfriend. It wasn’t like you’d forgotten him, but you weren’t used to him being so especially accessible yet. Warmed, you hugged your jacket a little tighter. One of the perks of living with your partner was sharing the load. Not to discount your old roommate, there was something different about it being the person you dated. Awash with the many comforting possibilities, it made the rest of the trip home bearable even after you’d narrowly avoided some school kids ripping through the crowd chasing each other and the elderly man they knocked into who consequently dropped a gallon of milk creating a white splash zone of several feet.

You had a death grip on your last wit as you hit the apartment. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. signaled you up and you punched the elevator button. It came down with an unnerving thunk that made you almost take the stairs. Just worn down enough that you’d compromise your own safety, you boarded only for the screeching to chase you up. Having survived with a similar bang upon hitting the landing, you were quick to hop off and march towards the door. It opened in time for you and you entered your domicile. The increasingly familiar smell of Donnie’s musk that tinted the place was rapidly mixing with yours to create a new scent. Wrapped in it like a blanket, you dropped your dirty jacket and bag by the door while kicking it shut.

“Welcome home.” Donnie’s voice came as he tacked away without pause on his keyboard.

“Can’t you write on the screen?” You mumbled out, feet not lifting as you approached the couch.

“It’s more comfortable to write lengthy code this way.” He explained without turning.

You stared at the purple knot of his mask as the front of your thighs came into contact with the sofa’s arm. There you let momentum carry you and you fell forward. Face planting of your own volition and legs sent north, you laid in that spot until gravity yanked your stems down. It took some pathetic squirming, but you squirreled forward until most of your body made it onto the couch. You gave up right around the ankles where they laid bending back and figured you'd made it far enough. Face still flat to the cushions, you listened to the rhythmic tapping for a while.

He wasn’t even going to ask.

Didn’t you look pathetic?

Wondering if maybe you needed to crank it up a little, you gave a groaning sigh.

The keys ticked away as if on a recording.

Giving a second even louder whine, you turned your head to the side in case the seat was muffling you.

It was impossible with his hearing, but you were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Yes?” His voice was flat and the clacking started to irritate you.

Grumbling, you forced yourself up to glare at him just over the arm of the couch separating you. On screen there was a large black window with purple code manifesting at an alarming rate. Ignoring it, the rest of his monitors were blank until the typing slowed. Thinking he was finally going to stop, you found code still appearing, but at half speed. One of his hands had freed itself of the process and, with an outward pinch to the monitor, a new window appeared. It blinked to life with a camera and, in a wave of his hand, Donnie moved it so he was in the corner of the frame and you, just over his shoulder, displayed in his field of vision.

“You’re upset.”

“Wow, took looking at me to notice?” You bit down on a more dramatic scowl and simply glared into the mini version of you reflected back. “Getting sick again?”

“Hardly.”

“Hmph.” You sank down so he couldn’t see the bottom half of your face.

“There’s tuna salad on your jacket which is not what you had for lunch. There’s also milk on your pants, but it doesn’t smell near as spoiled. The elevator has been on the fritz since this morning when the tenant in 4B tried to shove a mattress in which damaged something in the roof. I have not had time to repair it. By your posture it looks as though you spent a majority of the day slouching, but in a way that doesn’t suggest you were stuck at the computer. From what you told me earlier this week about the new update, I can presume there are growing pains stemming from that. You didn’t have a coffee or an energy drink, but you slept well so I can surmise your exhaustion is more mental than physical. All of which points to a bad day and the only thing I don’t understand is why you’re prompting me as opposed to opening up. Is that what you were hoping to hear?”  

A sharp response was on your lips, but your face screwed up around it. Dropping down out of his view, you listened as the typing renewed to its prior speed. Shimmying until you rolled over, you stewed on your back. There was no way that comforting you hadn’t occurred to him. He confirmed he had all the signs about your bad day and yet he was still writing his code. Closing your eyes and thinking back to the morning, you tried to remember if he had mentioned something pressing. Nothing came to mind and by the time your lids came up you were resigned to your comfortless evening. Picturing a way to self soothe and still get dinner made, you prepared to sit up when you realized the keyboard wasn’t going anymore.

Blinking, you tipped your head back and found Donnie staring at you from his chair.

“I’m getting up.” You explained, ruminating over how tired you sounded.

He stood instead and took the few steps over to the arm as if lauding over you.

You stared back with a creased brow.

His came down similarly and, as you tried to make sense of it, he reached out to brush your cheek.

Leaning slightly into him, you watched his lips part, but no words came. Coming up from where it had been laying on your stomach, you covered his hand with yours. You both watched on with increasing uncertainty. Locking eyes until you caught the tiny reflection of yourself, you ran back over all the times he had cared for you. Reviewing it critically, there were always clear steps taken. Through his own means of problem solving, he often sorted the most pressing issues and tackled them in descending order of importance.

There were tangible symptoms.  

The only time he had dealt with a true malaise had been after your boss died and there were so many other factors happening then that convulsed the comparison to now. Even if you were to throw out that bit of data, there weren’t any similar situations. The second closest was probably your anxiety at the lake which he had simply tried to logic away. Still gazing up at your turtle, you knew you had to ask.

“Do you know what to do?”

There was the faintest shake to his head. “I’ve been debating if I should.”

“I assumed you did, but then I started thinking about it.”

His lip curled to the side before he broke eye contact.

Despite the lingering irritation still buzzing about, a certain amount of warmth cropped up around it. It made your insides the mark of a summer day that would have been nice if it weren’t for all the pests.

A little decided sound came from your partner and you returned from the imagery. He was gazing down at you again and he gave your cheek a single pat. “Bear with me while I test a few hypotheses?”

“Of course.”

He gave an approving nod and rounded the couch. Your head raised on instinct to watch him and he tucked a hand right under the space you created. Feeling the cup of his appendage, you leaned into it and he eased you up until you were nearly sitting. He then sat where your head had been before letting you back down. It meant you were laying on his thigh and you immediately rolled over so you could bury your face into the flat of the plastron around his stomach. “A positive reaction.”

“Write that down.” Your voice was muffled by his top.

“I’m using nature’s notepad.” You felt the weight of his hand fall onto your arm.

“Good choice.” You curled a little closer and almost wished you weren’t on the couch. You wanted to wrap all the way around him even knowing that would be an impossibility with his shell.

He stroked lightly in his hold and you felt him lift his head. “Want to swap dinner days?”

You shook your head furiously.

One of his fingers gave a tap. “Ah, because I cannot move.” 

You burrowed deeper.

He gave a bob of laughter. “Let’s see…”

The next choice you figured was clear which left you curious over what he was ruminating now. Too comfortable to bother with possibilities again, you lulled in his scent until you heard a faint response.

“Comfort food?”

You made a little noise of interest, but weren’t quite coaxed from your new home.

“It changes depending on regionality and we are living in an immense melting pot.”

More forced, you unearthed only your mouth. “Not in the mood for fried heavy. Also, no fish.”

“I’ll have your jacket cleaned.”

“Thank you.”

“Noodles?”

Settling into a head turn, you watched the underside of his chin. “Ramen doesn’t always deliver well.”

“Depends on the place.” He agreed. “Pasta?”

“Not mac and cheese.”

“Italian.” He tried to look down at you, but you were too tightly curled into him for him to get a good look.

“I feel bad following up that with ‘cheese.’”

“An entirely different type.” He offered.

“Too nice!” You rolled over and beamed up at him.

The awaiting glint in his eye dropped with something else. “First smile…”

You felt bad it was wiped right off your lips, but he’d been too candid with his care.

He took your change the wrong way. “I’ll start the order.”

Wiggling out of his lap, he glanced at you as he brought out his phone. He turned it towards you and you saddled up beside him with a flick of your eyes to check that was okay. Instead of confirming, he slung the arm holding the screen around you and sank down until his chin hit your shoulder to peruse local options. Bumping your head against his, you picked a place and narrowed down to the illustrious dish of comfort.

Now stuck with the inevitable waiting game, you went to wash up. Donnie gave you space which you found interesting and wondered if it was part of his experiment. It was also weirdly what you needed which made you doubly ponder your boyfriend’s actions. For someone testing out hypotheses, he was surprisingly good at it. It also struck you that he had about a year of data to pull from so it probably wasn’t as farfetched in that regard. It brought back memories of the DAR protocol and you wondered if it was a consolidation of all the little things he thought about you. You imagined it was something like a file on an animal in the zoo and internally laughed at the sort of silly things he might have marked there like diet.  

Still not in the mood to fully commit to a shower, you washed your face and pits. Changing into lounge wear, you estimated you had unwound about 15% down from the near hundred you had almost hit. It meant the manic energy had abated, but you still felt like maybe blasting one earworm style song at full volume and on repeat until it numbed what was left. Knowing from Shelly that wouldn’t be the most well received action, you emerged from the bathroom feeling the process of moving forward.

You quickly found quiet and within a few steps you could see Donnie standing at his computer with a litany of windows up. He turned and, with a clenched fist they all disappeared, before the slight down tilt of his lips told you his reaction had been one of surprise. Giving him a knowing lowering of your lids, he flicked the screens backup with a twist of his wrist.

“Research?” You asked, stopping just short of him.

“A cursory search was nothing but drivel.” You watched him sign ‘going back’ and several relationship magazine articles appeared.

“What’d you move to?” You tilted your head and reached up to close the closest rag window manually.

“Psychology think pieces and forums.”

“Getting into the weeds.” You mused, closing the other articles like popping bubbles.

Donnie flicked a window over to you and you tried to tap the ‘X’ before it fell in place on the screen.

“The investigative phase is a lengthy one.” His hand came around yours and he closed his fingers to make it seem like you closed all the windows in time.

Chewing your lip you pushed your body into him and he caught you by a hip. “Do you like it?”

“Absolutely.” He dipped down and pressed a kiss into your hair.

“How’s this one going?” You turned to look up at him knowing fully well that you were the specimen.

He dipped down to allow you to steal an actual kiss. “Real experiments are rarely broken down like elementary school projects. The steps occur in a sort of tandem.”

You left him and wandered towards the kitchen while debating a drink. “Back and forth, like adjusting?”

“Depends on what you’re testing.”

You thought it over and sought out a glass. “Is the current investigation a hands off one?” 

He made a hum of appreciation. “Interesting guess, but no.”

“I’m guessing now?” You poured some juice and turned to study him.

“If you are inclined.” He gave a noncommittal tip of his head and crossed towards the couch. There he leaned as if lying in wait.

“Your body language says otherwise.” You gestured to your cup and he shook his head.

“I don’t have to be forthcoming in this.” He had a taunting quality.

You rolled your eyes and took a sip. Coming down from the sweet liquid found your boyfriend relaxed. He seemed to be in his natural element, observing.

Carting your juice along, you took lazy steps towards the couch. Once you reached it, you set your glass down safely before collapsing into the cushions. “This is the worst part!”

You heard the fabric of his joggers shift and he presumably came around to gather new information.

“Waiting for the food to arrive.” You tossed an arm over your eyes. “You want to eat, but you can’t really commit to anything because who knows when it’ll actually get here.”

You didn’t hear anything but could sense that he squatted down closer.

Turning your head instead of removing your arm, you glimpsed him crouched down far enough to see your face. “We forgot couch pillows.”

One of his brows rose.

You stared at him with an increasingly narrowed gaze. “I never said that out loud did I?”

“I would recall.”

“Your apartment was suspicious as hell.”

His gaze constricted. “How?”

“Hotel rooms have more personality.”

He was somehow less amused even though he hadn’t shown much emotion in the first place. “It’s a point of function.”

“Tell that to your costume and car.” In a turn your lids were pressed back into your arm. “This place should be all futuristic lab with purple neon.”

“That’s impractical for an actual lab.”

“I figured you’ve made less work.”

“I have.”

“Wait, we’re getting away from the point…”

“Function in a rudimentary sense. The units were identical for convenience. If I included décor then I would either defeat the purpose or need of multiples. There was no point to either.”

Waiting a few beats and turning over what that meant on a larger scale, you pulled your arm down. “You never brought people over.”

“No.”

Sitting up, you could only hear Hypno’s voice ghosting in your ear. “You’ve really been alone all thi-?”

There was an alert buzzed to the computer.

Donnie rose in a fluid motion and walked over to it.

You watched him flick at a display that noted someone arrived along with a live feed of the delivery person waiting at the door.

“Does that alert always pop up?”

“No.” Donnie responded with ease and headed towards the door.

“Full stop?”

He flicked you a gaze as he strode by.

“Up to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s discretion or something?”

“Yes.”

You pursed your lips. “Whatever you’re doing now is heading in a bad direction.”

His step stuttered and his gaze dropped. There he processed your statement with a creased brow until there was a knock at the door. Remembering his original destination, Donnie reclaimed his stoic aura and made the exchange. The delivery person departed and he headed straight towards the kitchen with thoughts clouding his attention.

You gave a fond smile before chasing after him. He moved slow in comparison as you lapped him opening boxes as he was still getting them out of their bag. You’d identified your meal and even grabbed a roll before ditching him in favor of the couch. You had bread in your mouth, a metal bowl in one hand, and the remote in the other when he finally reached your side.

“You… should pick whatever you want to watch.”

“Figured ‘hat mush.” You chuckled as you chewed.

You flicked on one of your comfort movies that you had seen more times then you could count and spared him a glance. He was nearly glaring at his food with an intensity that you figured could probably heat it back up if it was cold.

“You alright?”

His head tipped. “Wellbeing, mental and physical, are adequate.”

“Donnie.”

“You don’t need to worry about me on top of everything else.”

“Experiments and life.” 

He looked up at you with a bit of loss tinting his gaze.

“It happens in tandem.”

Understanding blossomed and there was a minor decrease in his furrowed brow. “There will be times when we are both upset.”

“There’ll be times when what one of us needs is going to be actively against what the other needs!”

As if hitting a button on a remote, Donnie’s brows dropped right back down to where they had been.

Unable to help him, you felt a little guilty leaving him to give your attention to your dinner. Similarly to what you had just said, it felt a lot like picking and choosing. You needed your pasta as a means to lessen your agitation while he was in dire need of some guidance. You just didn’t have it in you to help. Upon your first forkful, you had an odd plane imagery and heard the line about putting your own oxygen mask on first. It quirked a smile as you chewed and mused about how this was nothing like airline food. Losing track of your thoughts, you busied yourself with eating until one of your favorite lines was said on screen. Compounding distractions took hold and you left mental processes in favor of sensation.

“You know this cameo was completely unplanned?” The fact popped out of you as you lazed into the couch with a full belly.

“Should that not be the case?”  

The question caught you off guard. “I mean sure a cameo is like a teaser, but they usually plan those things… out…” You were in a slow turn towards your partner when you realized you had forgotten all about him.

“For audience enrichment.” He offered.

“Donnie!”

He simply watched you as you pulled your legs up to face him fully.

“Are you okay!?”

“Yes.” One of his brows descended while the other shot up like a counterbalance. 

“I-” You cut yourself off as everything about him obviously spoke that he hadn’t noticed your neglect.

An odd counter thought grouched about how he was better at self-soothing.

Another weighed in with sorrow on why that must be.

Shaking them all away, you offered a pathetic look. “Can we pretend I didn’t do anything because I’m having a bad day?”

He chuffed. “It can’t be that bad, but I won’t refuse your request.”

Dropping your gaze, you checked your hands. There was a light grease from the bread there and you got up to busy yourself washing your hands.

“Should I pause it?”

“No. I’ve seen it. The girls are going to surprise her with a pillow fort in a second.”

You heard the couch creak as Donnie turned back to the movie as if to check your comment. You heard the telltale dialog between running water and headed back as you were drying your hands. He was staring intently at the screen as you approached. When you didn’t immediately reclaim your seat, you watched as Donnie had to wrench his gaze away to look up at you curiously.

“I… sort of… forgot you were upset…”

“I wasn’t upset.”

You wove several circles with your pointer fingers. “The thought thing. You were stuck and I didn’t help.”

“You had just explain-”

“I know, but I should have tried.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what you do when you care about someone.”

His gaze said that was obvious.

“T-that you push through to help your partner even if you…”

He increased his look to a near comical level.

Running a little too late, you saw a reel of nearly hundred tiny discomforts he had weathered on your account. “Ah…”

He made a show of turning his body to you in a mime of what you had done earlier. “Are you alright?”

You relented by shaking your head. “You’re pretty intuitive, you know that?”

He shrugged.

“Even if you don’t know… you also somehow do.”

“Oxymoron.”

You gave a light groan and watched your feet as you stepped as if there was a tightrope. Walking the line as it curved around the back of the couch you stopped there. Out of your periphery you could tell Donnie was keeping vigil. “Like tonight, you say you don’t know what to do, but you… do all this.”

You could see it; he had the protest on his lips of his faults.

“Overall.” You interjected and waited for him to catch what you meant.

Confirmation came quickly and he nodded for you to continue.

“This is a small example of the grand scale. It’s… It’s…” You stopped and wondered what you were even trying to say.

Exhibiting his usual patience, he leaned into the couch as an indication that he’d give you all the time you needed.

It only added fuel to the fire of your point. “This!” You threw your arms out at him. “You try so hard!”

He gave a sigh as if his next sentence was going to be a big labor. “And you don’t?”

You weren’t even moving, but the comment stopped you cold. “What?”

He turned his head and you could tell he was debating getting up. “Since the beginning. You pushed yourself to points of near humiliation. You saw… something in me…” He changed his mind by tipping his head until it pressed into the back of the couch. “I’ll never know what and I will always be grateful.”

Your heart skipped in your chest and you wanted to relish the feeling, but all you could do was fixate on how much that seemed like an impossibility with how dower you’d been all day. Even now with the buoy of joy, it felt more like a blip on the radar as opposed to a healing property. With your feet grounded, your body swayed away from him as you tried to recapture the spark and hold it close to nurse it.

There was a shift of fabric that said Donnie was finally up.

You hadn’t done your usual maneuver of throwing yourself at him when he’d admitted something terribly sweet and you wondered if it worried him. Unable to part a glance to see as you were still trying to locate that elusive firefly of joy, you heard the soft padding as he headed past you. Almost grateful, you closed your eyes and replayed his words. The jump didn’t occur, but you didn’t expect it. Instead, you tried to distill the feeling. The casual nature of his comment that spoke to things that had probably been on his mind for months. The gratitude he’d had despite that he still was very much his own worst enemy. How could you explain that it was Donnie’s intangible concept that drew you to him despite knowing nothing about him? That pure instinct drove you two together and weathered every piece of knowledge gathered.

The sound of a loud muffled thud brought you out of the contemplation.

Not startling, but turning with widened eyes, you watched as Donnie observed how he had tipped the couch over onto its front.

Curiosity flooded around you, but the interest didn’t hit your lips. You wandered a large curve that sent you closer to the door as you observed what he had done. On the coffee table was a stack of the linens from the bed. Putting a finger to the plump of your lower lip, you pushed against it as you headed towards the TV. It afforded you a look into the bedroom where he had stripped the bed.

Donnie’s head lolled to one side and then he hoisted the sofa up by one hand.

You took a tentative step back and watched as he turned the whole thing in the air before setting it back down on one of its sides. It stood as an odd column in the living room and his hand’s didn’t retract. Instead he gave it a little rock which you immediately noted was him testing how sturdy it was. Satisfied it wouldn’t fall, he released it and headed back to the bedroom.

In his absence, you made it to the third metaphorical base of your living room trek which brought you right next to the obelisk. The underside of the fabric was neat and spoke of its disuse. Something lifted in your periphery and you turned to find Donnie hoisting the entire bed, stand and all. Underneath were containers you had never seen before and with a kick of his real foot, he pushed them cleanly out from underneath. You wandered closer, half shielding your body behind the partition near the desk as he set the bed back down and centered it. He then rounded the mattress and with a few clicks he opened the containers. There you found them stuffed with extra sheets, pillows, and a comforter you hadn’t seen in almost a year.

Its pale purple color held the barest negative connotation that was easily eclipsed with the knowledge of where all these things had been stored. Ducking back as he turned to you, you still saw the quick knowing look he sent before he began to gather these things up as well. As he passed you with an actual armful, you trailed him like a duckling. He made a precarious stack on the coffee table before he did an about face so fast you leaned away in surprise. He then sized you up as if you were part of his calculations before reaching out. He caught you by the forearms and, with a question on your face, he lifted you straight up.

“Hey!” The sound appeared on your lips and he set you down a few feet away before giving an approving nod that was all snark.

He then turned his back to you and you watched him think. It was clear he was drawing up mental blueprints and you leaned against the wall he had set you near. You saw the exact metaphorical pen flick that dotted off his design before he was set into calculated motion. Getting his computer chair in on the other side, he unwound blankets and started to build. Chewing your lip at his cuteness, you did a sock-sliding turn that sent you back into the bedroom. There you unearthed some starry garland you’d been gifted and never employed from your nightstand.

Returning found a sheet strung between the sofa and the office chair. The whole set had been rearranged and his form was a faint shadow through the fabric where the TV sat behind him in an idle glow. Coming around, you picked up the comforter. It bunched in your arms and was unwieldy which caused Donnie to throw you a glance over his shoulder.

You ignored him and ducked under the top sheet to find he was kneeling on something similarly puffy. Setting the comforter aside, you yanked at it which appeared as some sort of access code for his lips.

“It’s a futon.”

You paused only to turn the word over before he lifted his weight to allow you ability to adjust. On his feet, he worked the above structure as you laid out the plush flooring. In tandem, you both erected the pillow fort until you got a sense it was nearly complete. It was then you wandered away to get your lights along with an outlet and extension cord. When you returned, Donnie’s attention must have been split because he had wig pins in hand. You gave a rueful look at them and he merely brushed you off. Taking your wire, he dipped under the sheet awning and you watched as the fabric of the ceiling of the fort pinch as he pinned the garland in place.

He reappeared and with a flap of his fingers urged you to step back. You obeyed and, with a tilt of his head, the other lights turned off. It meant the only source was now the waning glow coming from the window and the warm yellow tints oozing out from under the fort.

“Come in.” He took a step back and straightened as if he were a maître d'.

“Thank you.” You appeared as a gracious guest and used a bow to duck under the swing of fabric overhanging the entrance. Inside, though you had helped with construction, had a totally different feel than what you remembered. From the base you’d built up, he’d covered it more in what now appeared to be a cozy nest of pillows and blankets. Smoothing out your pants as if they were fine attire, you got to your knees and crawled in. You then fluffed your selected pillow before flopping down like a disarmed rabbit.

Through your lids, the warm tones shone with comfort as you felt the press to the futon as Donnie crept beside you. He was careful not to jostle you despite his size and after quite a bit of adjusting fabrics, he eventually settled in on his back. Finally cracking your eyes open, you found him staring up with a reflection of the garland dancing in his pupils. It was enough for you to want a taste so you flipped over. Eyes widening, you found that he had not only strung the lights up, but there were little crystals pinned to the surface that threw the light into glittering prisms. Mesmerized, you wiggled down further into the comforter. Side by side with your arms just a hair's breadth away from touching, you felt a gentle tug in your chest. Allowing it to take you, the many grievances were drawn away by the tides of high quality cotton. The drain tugged at your lids and softened your cheeks. Feeling very much like you were the manifestation of a decompression, you turned your head until your temple met Donnie’s shoulder.

“This is amazing, Don.”

He made a little hum.

It was just distant enough that you finally tore your gaze away from the stars above. Next to you Donnie was the picture of serene and there was something about it that made you sit up. His placid features weren’t disrupted sharply, but a wrinkle formed. You made quick work of leaning over him to grab a loose sheet. You then pulled it across his body and got to your knees to tuck him in. With curved fingertips, you buried all the edges around him until a mummy-like shape of his body appeared coated appropriately in Egyptian cotton.

Out of the corner of your eye you could tell he wasn’t sure how to feel about it as you fell back unceremoniously into your divot. There you threw some excess comforter over your body before resuming your star gazing. One of the star lights hung a little lower than its brethren and you watched the near imperceptible shake of it. It took some focusing of your gaze, but you eventually caught how it swayed side to side as opposed to making a circle. There, a rhythmic pattern drummed up like the tick of a clock.

Leaning into the hypnotic nature, you felt your body free of the comforter first. The texture didn’t drag across your body, but simply evaporated. Torso loose, none of the cold you imagined came with it. Instead you counted the stars and found they seemingly had no limit. Vaguely remembering the garland was only a few feet long, you abandoned wondering how that was possible. It was there with your hands dangling by your sides that you felt them fall further. They dangled far past your butt which indicated you were floating. In a blink, the void around you was dark, but no fear came. The garland now stretched fully across the expanse, leaving only the long stretch of ground where it met at some horizon that you would never reach.

You smiled, free.

In a blink, the yellow centered glow returned and you realized you had fallen asleep. Body sluggish and comforter cozy, you sat up in a daze. Your mouth felt thick and the pangs in your temples spoke to dehydration. Wondering about the salt content of the pasta, you stared through the hole in the pillow fort and found it was much darker in the apartment. Wondering how long it’d been since the sun had gone down, you were ready to chug a glass of water, take a steaming hot shower, and go to bed. Turning to add your favorite component to the mix found Donnie still the rod straight mummy you’d left him. The only indicative change was that his face was utterly slack with unencumbered sleep.

This time the blossoming in your chest wasn’t a quick flicker, but a slow unfurl that stuck around to suck up the sun’s rays. Cheeks bursting with a smile, you made careful work of crawling up beside him. There you pressed a kiss to his temple and found him utterly unmoved by the process. Giving a silent and airy chuckle, you climbed out of the fort and went for that glass. Water went down smoothly and you found the time not too unmanageable for still making it to work tomorrow without the added misery of lost sleep. Passing by for one more check that your boyfriend was still knocked out, you let him rest and went for that shower.

It washed away latent soreness and you came out feeling renewed though, frustratingly, more awake. Trying to shrug the exhilaration off, you rounded lazily to find Donnie still wrapped up. Wondering if you should leave him like that, you squatted down to think. He looked so cozy that it seemed like a shame to disturb him. A selfish part of your brain complained about sleeping alone, but you rallied against it until the thought threw its hands up in defeat. Satisfied with your mental victory, you debated joining him. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, but you preferred the luxury of the bed. Frowning, it was then you realized that by the fort’s design, said structure was now bare.

You didn’t need to, but you rose up to overlook the pillow fort and found the mattress in nothing but its cover sat on the other side of the apartment. Pressing your lips together in irritation, that cinched your decision. Dropping back down, you tried to be as gentle as possible. “Hey, Don…?”

Silence chased you and you sort of wished he would snore because that would at least be funny.

“Don-don…” You teased, wondering if the sillier nickname would reach him.

He was really unconscious.

“Don-bon.” You spoke a little more forcefully and reached out to tap his plastron.  

With a little roll of his upper lip, his head turned away.

“Dearest Donnie.” You gave a mocking coo.

He gave a gravely sound of protest.

“Let’s go to bed, hm?”

He whined and rolled over.

“Donnie!”

“Go…” He managed around a swollen tongue.

“You have all the sheets!”

He gave a grunt that you took as ‘do what you want.’

Frowning deeply, you glanced around and weren’t even sure where the fitted one was stuck into the fort. The top sheet was clearly acting as the roof, but that wouldn’t be enough with late winter clinging to the city. Turning back to Donnie found him seemingly asleep once again. “Fine, you can stay.”

He made no noise and with an extension of your neck, you found he had really drifted back off.

“I’m taking this though.” You grabbed the edge of the comforter and pulled.

He made an annoyed noise and his legs passed you as it pulled up to his body. It made him look like a pale purple pill bug and you stood, changing grip. It was there you planted your feet and yanked. In his new position, he was heavy but easy to manipulate which rolled him over. It took a rotation and a half to get him off the comforter and you stumbled backwards as it came free. Keeping yourself from falling, you recovered just in time for Donnie’s body to come back to a stationary position whilst bumping against the couch. Your heart plummeted as the sheer size of him was enough to rock the pillar which wobbled a little too much.

Heart clenched and trapped, it careened back and forth in a way that suggested it was going to stop. You released a little breath and then, as if someone had shoved it, it suddenly gave out and fell in Donnie’s direction.

“No! Don!!”

You couldn’t make it in time and scrambled over to the fallen sofa. Throwing back fabric, you found it had landed on its front face and, with a wash of relief that had you sinking back on your haunches, you noted it hadn’t squished your boyfriend at all. Instead, his nose was near the arm and the rest of his body was still curled up, now under the safe cocoon of the couch’s back.

“You scared me…” You huffed.

“’m fine…” He got out sleepily.

The sudden pump of adrenaline left you exhausted and you blew out a long sigh.

That wasn’t how you wanted to tire yourself out, but in a gross cosmic way it worked.

“You’re really want to sleep there?”

He only hummed an agreement.

“It’s not nesting season.” You chided, getting to your feet. “We should get a canopy bed or something if you like it so much.”  

He didn’t respond and you smiled at how hopelessly cute he was. Setting the comforter aside, you tucked what was left of the pillow fort back into place so he was sequestered away. Soon satisfied you buried him deep enough, you gathered up the comforter and headed to bed. You dropped the ball of fabric down and were lamenting the loss of your pillow when you heard his voice.

Stepping away from the mattress, there was quiet and you craned your neck to hear. “Huh?”

He stunted out a single syllable.

You rolled your eyes back to the bed. “I can’t hear you, Don. I’m going to bed.”

“Sorry.” He raised his voice though it seemed to come with great difficulty.

“Don’t be.” You called back, laying out the comforter and folding it so you could sleep on it like a sleeping bag. It was big enough that you could turn down the top and make it into a supportive headrest.

Another phrase came and this one you had no clues for.

“Night!” You chanced a response, before tucking yourself in. It took some shuffling, but you eventually settled into a comfortable position. “Hey, Don?”

You heard a heavy sound of acknowledgment.

“Feel safe?”

There was a lengthy pause that begged you to drift off. Lids only showing a slit of the room, you fended sleep just in case. It was nearing the losing end of your battle when he finally spoke up.

“Yes.” There was a clarity there that said he’d roused for your question alone. “Missing one thing.”

Your cheeks dusted as even without a single clue you knew just who he was talking about. Sinking a little deeper into the comforter, you pulled your hands to your chest. “Canopy bed.” You repeated with conviction.

NEXT

Big beta screech this week especially because these rockstars put up with the VERY SHORT timeline I gave them: @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 ! Love y'all!

[sunmontuewrites]

THURSDAY! Having to stick around the apartment as cat has strict timing schedule for being fed. At work now but almost time for a staff meeting.

Morning coffee

Breakfast / Lunch / Dinner

Morning routine / Evening routine

Moisturise

Staff meeting 9.30am

Work emails 35, 30, 25, 20, 15, 10, 5

PG room audit of F.2.08

Do printing

VDI room list of user names

ME thesis admin x 5

Degree planners for UG

Answer AO3 comments

Post Academic AU fic on AO3

Digital sketch / paper sketch

Social events for PG students

Exam scripts

Newsletter

Type up SM notes

EDS Competitions

Photo board

Library - drawing books for software

Lunch out with colleagues

Pick up groceries

[eponymous-rose]

Something I wanted to do in the New Year is be more aware of how I'm spending my time at work, so I think I'm gonna try to do little summaries here of what each day entails. Hopefully also kind of interesting/useful if anyone's interested in academia?

For reference: we're on the quarter system, classes started on the 3rd, and I currently teach one class per quarter (heavy research-focused department, so very light teaching load). I also currently supervise 1 PhD student, 2 Master's students and 2 undergraduate research interns.

Monday!

Checked email on the bus to work, which mainly consisted of me seeing a colleague had received an endowed professorship, me writing her an effusive congratulatory message, and then me editing back the message a bit so it was less embarrassingly over the top. Also sent my students a reminder about their homework due on Wednesday and our little field trip tomorrow morning and accidentally sent it to last quarter's class, whoops. Luckily a former student quickly notified me of my mistake and I got it fixed!

Class was great - lots of flipped-classroom stuff that worked well even with only two students in the room (it's a conference week, everyone's traveling). I knew from previous years that the students had really, really struggled with this one equation, so I had them do a couple of examples in class and after working through the first one together, they both nailed it on the second try. Had to cancel a meeting with one of my undergrad research interns after class because the other members of our research team are out of town this week. Where is everyone? Well, at a conference and doing a two-month-long field campaign on the east coast. Forgivable. She offered to send me some of the work she's done thus far, so that's handy!

Went to check email after class and found that apparently a new remote meeting had popped on my schedule for immediately after class with an old peer mentoring group of mine (fellow 4th-year assistant profs in tangentially-related fields - we all did a professional development course last year together). Luckily it was cameras off so I could snack and decompress a bit while we caught up and made some strategic plans for the quarter.

Okay, FINALLY time to check email in earnest before my next meeting. 36 new messages since I checked last. New software package I need to bookmark and keep in mind for later work. Updates from the conference I'm technically attending virtually this week. Reference letter request from an undergrad student; add to calendar! Title and abstract to get added to the website for a seminar I'm hosting in a couple weeks. Reminder that the Zoom recording of my class is available to put online (which I promptly did). Triple-check with our tech guy that we're good to go up on the roof tomorrow to set up instrumentation for my class's term projects (all good!). Time flies, so here's the email with research progress from my undergraduate research intern and a handful of questions, we'll answer those and see how she likes jumping into a new dataset. New grant opportunities, job listings, a bunch of easy stuff to mark off. An essay about allocating time each week into the categories of Teaching, Research, and Service and strictly adhering to the percentages laid out by your tenure/promotion committee. Got a few minutes before my next meeting so I'll try it this week? Ish? Maybe? Looked sidelong at the new schedule, sure, we'll try that this week. Sent an email to my collaborator who's on a field project to see if we can do a remote meeting tomorrow to chat about a couple research proposals. Queued an email for next week's seminar speaker to see if he can send me the title and abstract for his talk/PhD entrance exam next week - no sense freaking him out before Wednesday, so we'll do a scheduled send.

Next up, meeting remotely with my former postdoc advisor! We've set up these meetings to "work on research projects" together but honestly this week it was just listening to him tell a very entertaining story about his car breaking down in rural Missouri and also listening to him describe a truly tragic tale of his very fancy sandwich getting thrown out of the office fridge by accident. That's scientific collaboration, baybee. We did talk research for a bit and he mentioned wanting to collaborate on a paper (he offered to pay for it out of the much more substantial research funds that come with his 30 extra years in the field) so I'm gonna come up with something for that by our next meeting in two weeks. I like working with him - we've published a couple papers in some pretty high-impact journals and he's always let me take the lead and go for first authorship without butting in, only providing support - so this is a fun prospect! I do have to submit an abstract this week for a European conference that'll be happening this spring, so maybe I can go ahead and lean into that idea a little.

It's now getting a little dark and rainy and I'm flagging a bit but I still have an hour before the afternoon seminar, so probably time to do a little course prep. Did some "grading" (just checking completion certificates for an introductory module the students had to go through). Fixed a mistake in Wednesday's lecture (why is there an anemometer when I'm talking about thermometers???). Reviewed some of the more complicated topics in Wednesday's lecture to make sure I'm not totally lost (some thermodynamics I haven't looked at in a while, thermocouples, semiconductors). Replacement slides uploaded to our course management system.

Aha! Email back from collaborator, she's going to be on a research flight tomorrow and won't be able to meet. All good, I don't have much to report anyway. That frees up an hour tomorrow, woohoo.

Okay, students have a homework assignment due a week from Wednesday, so I'm gonna post it this Wednesday. I have a good homework assignment prepared, I just needed to go in and write up a nice answer key. Got that done (along with some sample Python code to provide them with) and the homework assignment is scheduled to be posted, so it's time to look at next week's lectures. I've inherited this class from someone whose course notes can be a little scattered, so this is usually a bit of a process. Only two lectures to prep for next week, though!

Took a break from lecture prep to go to today's seminar, which purported to be about a really dodgy geoengineering scheme (redundant descriptor, am I right?) but in fact just rigorously tested said scheme and demonstrated it would actually have the opposite effect. Super fun and interesting seminar!

Okay, back to working on lectures for next week. Somehow got both of next week's lectures done before the end of the day, so those should just need a little polish and they'll be ready to go! Uploaded them to the course management system but sneakily and they won't appear to students until I've checked them over.

Tomorrow: going to the roof with my students to set up their term projects, then tons of sweet, sweet, meeting-free office time carved out. Hope this doesn't come back to bite me with a million meetings on Wednesday (...it will).

Important: work is done by 5PM. I try very hard to adhere to "leave work at work", which is not as much of a pipe dream as it seems, even for R1 tenure-track.

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Tuning In  (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Tuning In - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

Author’s note:  

I’m still in recovery mode but my mind is so bored and filled with ideas! I managed to use my voice to text software to make a little oneshot to hold me over until I can type on my laptop again. If you want to timeline this oneshot in line with the series, I’d say it takes place between Breakfast for Two and Three Steps Back. Roughly? I dunno. It’s a scrap idea I wouldn’t be able to squeeze into the series as it stands right now.

As always, enjoy! I’m actually going to rest my hand now.

Taglist!

@blackreaderatrisk​

A joyful tune escaped your lips.

It didn't have words much less a title, just a string of musical notes you hummed on the fly as you styled your hair.

It was any other day at your penthouse. The sun was beaming into your living room on all of your streaming equipment that was on your desk, ready to go. You had scheduled a virtual meet and greet for your fans that couldn't travel to Gotham to see you.

Cindy thought the idea was marvelous and wanted to make the event bigger than it already was but you toned her down the best you could. You wanted this to be intimate and fun, despite the expected turnout.

You posted the date and time months ago and the original message had already been liked over half a million times on different social media platforms.

In no way were you scared of your fans but that many people on a video? You had some pre-stream jitters.

Thankfully Cindy assigned IT and some background software programmers to make sure the event ran smoothly. But after that, it was all up to you.

She gave you free creative reign. Two hours of content completely up to you to plan and execute.

Saying you were excited was an understatement.

You made a flow chart to keep everything cohesive but added in Q & A slots in between segments for fans. Moderators would be standing by to keep the chat under control and to give you some breathing room so you didn't have to multitask. You planned this out thoroughly after all.

And rightfully so! You had a lot you wanted to cover.

Limited edition box sets were dropping next week and you purchased a main booth at the upcoming GothCon and you wanted everyone to know about it.

Signatures, private photo opportunities, timed book discussions, and new merch for sale at both the event and your online merch shop were available. You name it; it was happening.

You couldn't end the stream without giving a shout out to all of the recent art your fans had created since your last blog post and near the end of everything, you wanted to tease everyone about your new work in progress.

You couldn't help it! So what if you were a little troll? Your community loved that about you.

All of this and more, you hoped to talk about during the stream — if only you could get your hair looking right! You were so busy taking care of Joker these days your daily hair routine had fallen to the wayside.

It was still healthy and gorgeous just.. not right now. Trying to plait multiple braids to the scalp and letting the bottom portion be free and curly while pressed for time was nerve wracking and seemingly impossible.

It also didn't help that Joker was watching your every move.

Apparently he was in a good mood today. He acted more and more like your fake adopted cat by the day.

He wandered outside of his room after breakfast and decided to silently annoy you by parking himself smack dab in front of your desk.

His mind was originally focused on the tv but over time his eyes gravitated to you or rather to your hands that moved like magic through your h/c locks.

You were still working on the first braid and parted your hair with a fine tooth comb - how you did that so neatly without a mirror was mind boggling, and you positioned your hands to move hypnotically to form a braid.

He was also in awe with how fast you moved.

You braided about halfway back to the crown of your head before stopping. From there you let your natural texture be free and wild, spraying it with a curl defining product and incorporated it in thoroughly with a comb to set.

He fought back the urge to walk over and bury his hands into your fine silk. It looked softer than cashmere and it smelled intoxicating from far away. Were you trying to seduce him again?

You were doing a great job if so.

You started sectioning out the second braid but an incoming text on your phone stopped your progress.

It must've been IT in the way you wiped your hands free of any oily residue and fiddled with your computer setup with a huff.

Joker remembered you saying the stream began at the top of the hour. He glanced at the clock and began to worry if you would make it on time.

You were already dressed in a crochet top, a pale cornflower blue that hung off your shoulders, with a choker that proudly sported Will's family crest hanging from a leather band. Once again, fan made art pieces. You looked stunning as always but he knew if your hair wasn't perfect, you would cancel the entire thing.

And since he was secretly a big fan of yours, that was totally unacceptable.

He knew it wasn't his place. You two weren't close by any means, but that didn't stop Joker from standing up and limping towards your desk.

You noticed his presence a little too late.

Before you could open your mouth to ask what he was doing, Joker had already picked up your comb and began sectioning your hair right where you left off.

You turned into a statue.

His presence behind you was ominous yet you felt the gentle way he smoothed your hair back and clipped it out of the way with a hair claw. He used your previous braid as a model and carefully crafted the same halo pattern you began on your scalp in earnest.

Then the unthinkable happened. Joker started to do your hair.

You felt the moment his hands gripped the three strands and wove them up and over, back and forth to follow the pattern you created.

You had so many questions. Where did he learn to braid hair? Who did he practice on? How was he this good?

He applied just the right amount of pressure, not too loose but definitely not heavy handed, to make neat braids within his section. You felt the confidence in his grip, this wasn't his first rodeo.

And just like you did before, he stopped halfway and brushed out your ends, spraying it with your curl pattern styling agent and left it alone to develop into the effortless curls he liked (loved) so much.

IT messaged you again about performing a quick last minute bandwidth test and you gave them the okay while keeping your head straight. Joker paid you no mind and was working on the middle section when you couldn't take it anymore.

"Um.. how did you know how to do this?" You gestured at your head.

Joker's hand froze for a millisecond but continued braiding unfazed. "Would ya believe me if I said prison?"

Your snort told him no.

He smirked to himself but indulged in your curiosity. "But it wasss. One of my prison mates had nice long hair just.. like.. you. Although he's uhh, not alive, to brag about my work, he received all types of comp-li-ments before his.. untimely demise."

He felt you tense up. "You have nothing to worry about my dear Y/n!"

Joker brushed out a new part and caught a snag in the comb making you yelp. Your head followed the tug making it bump into Joker's abdomen. You could feel his muscles through his cotton shirt "Sorry!"

"Hm. That's my line." You tried turning around to apologize further when Joker forcefully jerked your head back straight. "Stay still."

Now that scared you. It would be so easy for him to snap your neck. Is that how he offed his prison mate with the good hair?

You gulped and bobbed your head but instantly regretted that action.

Joker's hands slid from your hair down to your neck where he massaged it gently. He bent down to whisper in your ear. "Now bunny... whaT. Did I just say?"

You felt horrible for being turned on. His hands felt so good around your neck and it took all of your strength not to moan out loud.

"Y/n."

He snapped you out of your thoughts. Your mouth flopped like a fish as you tried to form words that weren't about Joker choking you during that activity.

"You ah.. said to stay s-still." You stared straight ahead at the countdown timer set for your stream.

Thirty-six minutes left. Joker had well over half left to braid. Would you make it through this torture?

"Then be a good girl and.. stay still." He purred in your ear. He stood up straight and went back to work, adding in the golden beads you had scattered on the desk to a few braids that he finished.

Ohhhhh he knew he was cruel and like the obedient girl you were, you listened to him. If you had a tail it would be wagging.

When did you stoop so low?

With five minutes to spare Joker finished your hair for you and you dashed over to the floor length mirror leaning on the living room wall.

You turned your head left and right, admiring Joker's handiwork up close. It was incredibly neat and it matched the first halo braid you did perfectly. You couldn't believe that he did the rest.

You were about to turn and thank him but Joker was already behind you in the mirror.

At times you forgot how tall he was compared to your height. If you moved back any further you would bump into Joker's chest. Not like you minded but!

Once was an accident, twice and he might get curious.

You wanted so badly to rest your weight on Joker or feel his hands in your hair again, scratch that. You wanted to have his hands around your throat again. There was so much power you gave up in that brief moment that had you reeling. You wanted to surrender it again.

"Y/n. I asked if you like it?" His voice startled you again out of the naughty thots.

"Y-Yeah Joker, I do."

His green eyes flickered down to your colored ones, eyeing you warily.

Your reply came out way too breathless, almost like it pained you to answer v He hoped this video stream wasn't making you nervous. He'd stick around (out of sight of the cameras of course) and keep an eye on you.

It's not like he wanted to hear any book announcements or anything. He quickly acclimated to the fact that he was staying with one of his favorite authors but it was still an exciting reminder. You were right there! He could bombard you with questions or annoy you until you fled the room.

Right now, he just wanted to admire your beauty up close.

Joker singled out a strand of your hair that didn't want to curl and wove it around his finger to help it. He lifted the lock up to his nose and sniffed.

Divine.

Your eyes widened witnessing his soft gesture until his eyes met yours in the mirror. They grew heavy almost instantly with an emotion you feared to say aloud.

"Alrightyy your hair is done. Off you go."

And just like that Joker was back to being a jerk, roughly pushing you over towards your desk chair.

You were forced down into it and Joker's hands came to rest on the armrests beside you.

"Now... have fun doing your video blog.. thingy. I'll be here watching." He spun you around to face your laptop and towards the countdown timer that had less than a minute left.

Joker took up his original seat within your line of sight and licked his lips slowly. His smug look did nothing to help calm your arousal as the timer ticked down from thirty seconds.

You had half that time to wipe your mind clean and plaster a big smile on your face as your dear readers joined the stream and flooded the comment section with love and support.

You couldn't think about Joker as the participant counter jumped past three hundred thousand and rising. Did you even have that many active readers? Cindy must've ran a promo behind your back.

It didn't matter, this was your time to shine. "Welcome! Welcome everyone! I'm so excited you all joined!"

[thelesbiandeli]

A Caged Bird Set Free

Summary:

Standing at the head of the table, grin plastered across their face and their arms crossed cockily, is a person. Or rather, a hologram of a person. They seem rather short, although their height is boosted by a large pair of white and pink platform heels. They have a small chest window, very similar to Scars, cut into their sleeveless black turtleneck, although the corners are more rounded. A too-large fluffy white cardigan has slipped off their shoulders, revealing light freckling along their arms. Bracelets and bangles jingle around their wrists as they slide on a pair of pink heart-shaped rimless sunglasses. “Hiya boss!” --- (aka I made Grian into an AI assistant for HotGuy, then had him have an identity crisis)

(Ao3 link here)

(Chapter one of three)

(2619 words)

Scar casually strolls into the meeting room. A member of the board of directors sniffs curtly at his casual vest and tracksuit bottoms. Scar simply flashes a grin at them, and pushes his signature HotGuy sunglasses further up his nose from where they had slipped.

“Ah, directors! What did you need from me?”

Scar has gotten used to random meeting requests from his higher ups. Sometimes it’s to change his patrol schedules, sometimes it’s to inform him about new marketing opportunities, and sometimes it’s just to check up on him. The city's top hero is their pride and joy, and Scar intends to keep it that way. One of the directors stands, and smiles fondly at him.

“Well HotGuy, we have come to realise that your whole brand as a hero relies on your looks just as much as your skill. And we have come to the conclusion that you need someone to compliment you for that.”

Scar stares in confusion for a second, before squinting at the man addressing him.

“Sir, are you suggesting that I have a sidekick? I thought we’ve been over this already, I work alone.”

Another director stands and pulls a small remote out of her blazer. She points it at the empty space at the head of the table, and presses a button on it. Scar raises an eyebrow, and watches as a small spark of light appears in the air. The point of light expands, its pale pink glow filling the entire room for a second before it dims down.

Standing at the head of the table, grin plastered across their face and their arms crossed cockily, is a person. Or rather, a hologram of a person. They seem rather short, although their height is boosted by a large pair of white and pink platform heels. They have a small chest window, very similar to Scars, cut into their sleeveless black turtleneck, although the corners are more rounded. A too-large fluffy white cardigan has slipped off their shoulders, revealing light freckling along their arms. Bracelets and bangles jingle around their wrists as they slide on a pair of pink heart-shaped rimless sunglasses.

“Hiya boss!”

Another director gets out of his chair, and walks over so he’s standing next to the hologram.

“This here is CuteGuy. He is the one of the most advanced pieces in current AI technology, and we have decided that he would be the perfect candidate for your sidekick.”

Before Scar can respond, CuteGuy wrinkles up his nose and sticks his tongue out.

“CuteGuy? Do I not get to decide my own hero name?”

The director sighs, and shakes his head.

“No, you do not get to decide your own hero name. You are called CuteGuy for branding purposes, it will fit best with HotGuy. Now, HotGuy, what do you think? Will he be a good sidekick?”

Scar grins in enthusiasm. Who’s to say if that smile is genuine. Certainly not CuteGuy, despite the fact that he knows the answer.

“This will be fantastic, thank you directors. Now, if you don’t mind,” He holds up his wrist, where his wristband is flashing with a villain alert, “I do believe I have a villain to catch.”

The directors all smile at him, and one hands him the small remote.

“We’ve already taken the liberty to download the CuteGuy software into your suit, so you will be able to communicate freely with him during battle. Now, go catch a villain for us!”

Scar strolls out the room casually, CuteGuy following with a spring in his step. As soon as the meeting room doors swing shut, Scar turns on the hologram.

“Look here. I’m going to work with you, but that doesn’t mean I have to like you. I don’t want you getting in the way, okay?”

CuteGuy salutes, and grins.

“Yessir! Now, The Goat is currently attempting to rob a bank two roads down. You have eight minutes until he will get away safely, so you better make it count!”

Scar curses, and sprints off down the corridor, leaving CuteGuy to cackle, and jog after him.

—

Almost a year after the CuteGuy AI has been introduced, and he has already grown a fanbase nearly as large as HotGuy’s. The Institute of Heroes have gone all in, making posters, childrens dolls, and even a wall calendar featuring the new top hero duo. The only person not so thrilled, it seems, is HotGuy himself, although he would never let the public know that.

Don’t get him wrong, Scar doesn’t mind the extra help. He doesn’t mind the slightly irritable voice in his earpiece, or the updates on villains locations so he doesn’t have to track them himself, or even the early morning wake-up calls because this high tech, state-of-the-art AI ‘misread the time’. No, what annoys him is the fact that recently, CuteGuy has been pulling a few ‘pranks’. Well, he would call them pranks. Scar would call them a range of things, from annoyances to security breaches. He could deal with his bathroom door locking him inside for a solid twenty minutes, or holographic chickens appearing in his training sequences, but it was when CuteGuy would message people on Scar’s phone, or ‘forget’ to alert him about a villain attack until it was nearly too late that really got on his nerves.

“Hey Scar! Circuit has been spotted in the northwest of the city, a few blocks away from the Museum of Technological Histories and Innovations. The police have been dispatched, but in the case that he manages to get hold of something from the museum that boosts his powers, you’ve been called in.”

CuteGuy’s chipper voice suddenly breaks Scar’s brooding. Opening his eyes, Scar sighs at the AI’s grinning face leaning over him. He groans and gets up from where he was lying on his sofa.

“Give me a recap on this guy. Is he that guy with the horns, or was that someone else?”

CuteGuy sighs, and rubs his eyes. Scar loved to make the blonde’s job just that slight bit more annoying sometimes.

“Villain name: Circuit. Threat level: moderate to low. Suspected powers: Energy/Technological manipulation. Notes: Has been witnessed engaging in several larger fights, but has never tried to fight a hero one-on-one. They have attempted several robberies, but usually flee if someone tries to stop them. They once punched a policeman and apologised for it.” CuteGuy sticks out his tongue and cracks his knuckles, “Basically, he’s a coward. I reckon you could take him on without backup. He’s probably got some sort of plan or agenda, but I reckon he’d need a hand to carry it out.”

Scar rolls his eyes, and grabs his bow out of his umbrella stand. Pulling his angled boots on, he smiles at CuteGuy.

“Should be a pretty easy fight then. You feel like sitting this one out?”

“Even if I wanted to, it goes against my programming. You know that.”

Scar slides his sunglasses on, and chuckles.

“Well then, we better get moving. No use slacking on the job, ay Cutes?”

CuteGuy rolls his eyes as Scar closes the door behind him, and teleports with a buzz of static out into the corridor.

“Please don’t call me that, Scar.”

Clipping on his quiver of branded arrows while power walking down the corridor, Scar raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t you mean HotGuy? Anyway, I think it’s cute. Get it? Cute?”

“Void below, Scar. Let’s just go.”

They turn the corner and jog onto the balcony. Wings glitching into existence, CuteGuy spreads them and takes off. HotGuy leaps up onto the railing, takes a breath, and launches himself out into the empty air

—

Landing with perfect accuracy in front of the museum, HotGuy straightens up and strolls casually towards the nearest police officer.

“Excuse me ma'am? I was called in to deal with a villain, are they anywhere in sight?”

The police officer shakes her head, but points to the large doors of the building in front of them.

“No, Mr HotGuy sir, but several eyewitnesses say they went into the museum. We don’t want to send any of our men in due to the risk of a fight in such a small space. Would you be able to take this one, sir?”

HotGuy nods confidently, and slicks his hair back with one hand. CuteGuy groans, nearly causing his companion to jump. The lack of physical footsteps to hear or fabric to rustle means that he can be extremely quiet when he wants to. He shoots HotGuy a grin, and steps forwards to place a comforting hand on the officer’s shoulder.

“Of course ma’am, that was a good situational evaluation. We’ll get right on it.”

The two stroll as confidently as they dare up to the wooden double doors. CuteGuy stares up at the large carvings chiselled into them, leaving his partner to enter the museum alone.

Cringing as the door creaks open, HotGuy slips into the dark museum. The villain must have destroyed the electrics, he notes to himself. He beckons to his faintly glowing sidekick, who silently strolls up to stand next to him. Leaning over, HotGuy whispers to him.

“You search the bottom floor, I’ll take the top. Yell if he sees you, and send me a message if you see him. Got it?”

CuteGuy rolls his eyes, and gives him a thumbs up.

“Got it, boss. You know you could have just said that into your earpiece.”

HotGuy glares at him, and CuteGuy sighs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” He walks away towards a nearly pitch black exhibition hall, and mutters to himself, “You would think he’s watched more police dramas than he has actually taken part in this sort of thing at this point. Who am I kidding, of course he has.”

Padding silently through the dark, CuteGuy glances at the exhibits. One glass case contains a fried circuit board, another showing off a rusty set of cogs. He pauses in front of a tall cabinet, even taller than him, displaying one of the earliest designs for a wearable flying contraption. Its coppery buckles glint in his faint pink glow, and he smiles at the worn leather and papery wing membranes. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the blink of a small red light from somewhere on the device. Cocking his head slightly, he scans the exhibit in confusion. Why would this exhibit still have working LED’s? And why would they be on when the rest of the museum’s power is off? He spots it again, a brief flash before it disappears. Not on the contraption itself, but rather in the reflection of the glass.

Wait, the reflection of the glass?

Before he can turn around properly, his holographic body seizes up into perfect posture, pinning him in place with his hands tucked neatly behind his back. He tries to yell, but no noise comes out. A mute symbol hovers just in front of his mouth.

A tall figure steps into his field of view, and waves awkwardly. CuteGuy gives them his best death glare, and they wince.

“Hi, uhm, I’m sorry about this. I didn’t really think that would work quite so well.”

Before CuteGuy can try to spit out an insult, his earpiece blinks on, and HotGuy’s crackly voice fills the room.

“Hey, CG, any sign of the guy? I’ve finished searching the ‘modern technologies’ exhibit, and I’m about to move on to the next one.”

The villain’s eyes widen, and they frown, reaching a hand out in front of them and shutting their eyes. CuteGuy gasps silently as he feels a new force infiltrate his code. The villain looks at him apologetically, and mutters.

“I’m sorry about this.”

And all of a sudden, CuteGuy’s mouth opens without him trying to. Words form in his throat that aren’t his. He’s flung into the backseat of his own body. He can hear his own chirpy voice whispering into his earpiece, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“Hey HotGuy, no sign of him yet. I’ve pretty much searched the whole bottom floor, so he must be upstairs.”

The villain's face is screwed up in a mixture of anxiety and concentration, and CuteGuy can see a faint red glow forming in their pupils. HotGuy chuckles.

“Good to know! And hey, before you go,” the villain freezes up as HotGuy pauses for a second, “It’s good to see that you’re learning some respect. I think that’s the first time you’ve actually called me HotGuy, y’know!”

The villain’s eyes widen in panic, and CuteGuy feels the intrusive tug at his vocal chords again, the enemy force twisting its way around his core being.

“Are you sure you’re not hearing things? I don’t think I said anything of the sort.”

CuteGuy can practically hear the light-hearted annoyance in the other hero’s voice as he replies.

“Fine, just get back to work. Report when you finish searching your floor. HotGuy out.”

The call shuts off, and CuteGuy collapses to the ground, gasping yet still silent. The villain pushes down their hood, and crouches down in front of the hologram. Concern filling their eyes, they wave a cautious hand past his eyes. The AI looks up, and scowls at them. With a hoarse whisper, they hiss at the villain.

“Give me two good reasons why I shouldn’t sound off all the alarms in this building.”

The villain shrugs nervously.

“Well, uh, you couldn’t really do that if you wanted to, I still have control over your communications systems. Also, I’m really sorry? Does that count?”

When they get no reply from the hero, they sigh and crack their knuckles casually. They watch the hero in silence, and CuteGuy can feel them exploring his code. He chooses to ignore it, because it’s not like he could do anything to stop it. He squeezes his eyes shut, and sits perfectly still until he hears the villain make a strange confused noise.

“Are you aware that there are code locks on your consciousness stopping you from thinking certain things?”

CuteGuy’s eyes open in a mix of shock and horror, and he shakes his head. The villain continues with a grimace.

“Well, there’s the obvious things of ‘don’t kill anybody’ and ‘don’t light a building on fire’. But there’s also things stopping you from disobeying orders, and blocking you from even considering going against the heroes. The only reason you can comprehend this conversation is because I’m blocking them.”

CuteGuy blinks in confusion. No, surely not, the Institute would never do such a thing. But it would explain some things, like how sometimes, despite having near flawless memory banks, he sometimes forgets whole monologues done by supervillains, or random strings of thought he has in his spare time having the subject rapidly change, seemingly without his input. The villain snaps their fingers in front of the hologram’s face, drawing his attention back to them.

“I can unblock them for you if you want?”

Silently, the AI contemplates this and nods, a few strands of sandy blonde hair falling into his face. The villain cracks his fingers, and furrows his brow in determination. CuteGuy desperately tries to ignore the feeling of another's code winding through his own. After a few minutes, the villain glances up at him.

“Alright, here goes nothing!”

CuteGuy’s eyes widen as previously blocked threads of code reveal themself to his mind. All new emotions and memories flood his brain bringing tears to the corners of his eyes. And for the first time in his existence, CuteGuy breaks down crying, his movements choppy and poorly animated because, of course, he was never meant to feel this way. Never meant to be free.

[fashiondesign-college]

The Art of Time Management in Fashion Design: Tips for Success

Fashion design is a thrilling, fast-paced world where creativity knows no bounds. However, amidst the whirlwind of inspiration, creation, and execution, effective time management is the linchpin that separates successful designers from the rest. In this article, we'll delve into the art of time management in fashion design and provide essential tips to help you navigate this dynamic industry with precision and poise.

Why Time Management Matters in Fashion Design

In fashion, time is of the essence. Launch dates, fashion weeks, and client demands all converge on tight schedules. Efficient time management not only ensures deadlines are met but also fosters creativity, minimizes stress, and improves the quality of your work.

Tips for Successful Time Management in Fashion Design

Set Clear Goals and Priorities: Begin each project by defining clear objectives and priorities. What is the end goal? What are the most critical tasks? This clarity will guide your work and help you stay on track.

Create a Detailed Schedule: Develop a comprehensive schedule for each project, breaking it down into manageable tasks and allocating time to each. Tools like calendars, project management software, or even a simple to-do list can be incredibly helpful.

Embrace Deadlines: Deadlines are the heartbeat of the fashion industry. Embrace them, use them to your advantage, and always strive to meet them with time to spare. This not only reduces stress but also leaves room for revisions and improvements.

Avoid Overcommitting: As a designer, it's easy to get excited about multiple projects and collaborations. However, overcommitting can lead to burnout and compromised quality. Be realistic about what you can handle.

Limit Distractions: Identify common distractions in your work environment and take steps to minimize them. This might mean setting aside specific time blocks for focused work and turning off notifications.

Break Tasks into Smaller Steps: Large projects can feel overwhelming. Break them into smaller, more manageable steps. This approach makes progress feel achievable and keeps you motivated.

Learn to Delegate: Don't try to do everything yourself. Delegate tasks when possible, whether it's hiring assistants or outsourcing certain aspects of a project. This frees up your time for more creative work.

Maintain a Work-Life Balance: Fashion design can be all-consuming, but maintaining a healthy work-life balance is crucial for long-term success. Schedule downtime, stick to it, and return to your work refreshed and inspired.

Stay Organized: Keep your workspace and digital files organized. This saves time that might otherwise be spent searching for materials or information.

Review and Reflect: Periodically assess your time management strategies. What's working? What needs improvement? Adjust your approach accordingly to optimize your efficiency.

The Balance Between Speed and Quality

Efficient time management in fashion design is not about rushing through projects. It's about finding the balance between speed and quality. Rushing can lead to mistakes, overlooked details, and a compromised creative process. Effective time management allows you to maintain high standards while meeting deadlines.

In the fashion world, those who consistently deliver quality work on time gain a reputation for reliability and excellence. This, in turn, opens doors to exciting opportunities, collaborations, and industry recognition.

In conclusion, time management is an art that every fashion designer must master to thrive in this competitive and ever-evolving industry. By setting clear goals, adhering to schedules, and finding a balance between speed and quality, you can navigate the world of fashion design with grace and achieve lasting success.

Indian Institute Of Fashion & Design- IIFD is the Best Fashion Design College in India. IIFD is The most popular and Leading Fashion Design Institute which offers professional training in Fashion Design, textile design, and interior design Courses in India. IIFD is committed to excellence, creation, and growth for their students through ongoing educational activities, and live sessions, They offer an industry-ready curriculum that helps you improve your practical knowledge and skills.

[mythgrippa-blog]

Day 0 - rebooting

Hello, call me Mythgrippa! Nice to meet you, the name comes from two fascinations I have, myths and Marcus Agrippa (my favorite Roman). I am currently doing my final year of computer science and I've done a lot, I'll list them out in a different blog post but it was a lot a lot and I'm left with only one semester which I'm quite excited about.

However, I think I must have overworked myself to get to this point, like I'm truly exhausted all the time, can't really focus on my work and having constant feelings of stress and anxiety, I used to be a stallion programmer but I can barely write a few lines of code and not feeling mentally overwhelmed.

This morning, like in the night I woke up to go to the bathroom and couldn't go back to sleep so I went online and got a bit too curious and searched up why I'm like this and found an online blog post which explained all the symptoms I've been experiencing with pin point accuracy.

I'm mentally exhausted, it makes sense because I'm always thinking about whatever school work I have and trying to get good grades, sleeping deep into the night trying to get work done. My performance has been declining, I still get work done but my quality isn't what it used to be. I've also been neglecting self care and not going outside, my skin is starting to show, I'm black by the way and my tone has started feeling... spotty? I don't know, I don't like it. My self confidence has kind of diminished because of it so there's that as well.

So, I still have a lot of work to do, like a software project for school that I'm the leader of, so I have to be the technical lead and also the semester hasn't started yet so I've to prepare for that as well. These are my stressors. I've to stop this mental daemon from running all the time.

To accomplish this, the article I read suggested these 11 solutions

Eliminate the stressors

My stressors would be mostly work, I can't just simply eliminate it because I have to finish this semester, and its not something I can set aside, plus my software project with my group isn't going so well so we gotta work our butts off for that

Work-life balance

Alright, this is part I get because I honestly don't have a life. The closet life I have is the friends I hang out with at school when on break and also the tennis games we go to, but I've mostly been a work person. So, for starters I need a life!!! But where to start... maybe I should start. Perhaps restricting myself to working up to 6 hours or less per day?

I could play video games or watch movies, I mean... hm... I'll try out the other games and watch more TV, I haven't been reading any of my novels or play board games. I'm off Twitter and Reddit, I don't like scrolling mindlessly for hours.

Damn it!! I remember that one of my friends has my board games, no matter I'll just play on ipad, hopefully there are good apps in the app store. I'll see what my other friends have to say. Well I'll see what I will do

Clear your space

I suppose this means I should rid of what doesn't kindle joy, I'm in recess at the moment and I'm back home, I don't have a room of my own so I sleep in my little brother's room (which used to be mine before I moved to uni), the spare that I usually sleep in is occupied by one of my older brothers. This room is a mess and I really can't do much about it other than tidy some stuff but the way things are laid out is just so annoying, so much wasted space. But this isn't my room anymore so I can't really do anything major plus my energy is down the drain.

Schedule (and take) regular breaks

I should take breaks when working, I used to study using Pomodoro and it was quite effective I won't lie but I've lost some of my discipline, at least partly attributed to the main reason I'm writing this in the first place.

How did I go so many semesters without taking regular breaks, not even like five minutes, I'm really a mad lad. I'll try to take at least 5 minutes off per hour, that should make it easier, but what constitutes a break? Doing nothing? I suppose that works

Get outside

In terms of this, I try to go outside but the weather is just so cold, but the sun does feel good but I'm the type of person who likes dark and gloomy weather accompanied by rain and thunder storms, I just really like that, the rain drops crashing onto the roof or window, the warm clothing I get to wear!! Oh my goodness, it feels like a mental refresher because I naturally feel easy and relaxed when there's rain. But I'll try to go out, perhaps a jog every now and then?

Do something new

Something new... well I could really try that, I used to go to the gym but school got so hectic I had to cancel my membership but I think I'll go back since I believe the hardest semester has concluded (last semester was the hardest honestly and I'm glad I made it out alive).

I'll try out other types of sports because I want to regain my stamina and activeness, my right leg though... its fine I'll be fine, I'll buy better shoes and sports gear. I'll try to be healthier, eat my fruits daily, and drink plenty of water.

That's a lot of stuff, how will I manage though? I'll figure it out but at least the idea is there

Reduce screen time

I mean... even though its the start of recess and I'm done with my old modules and the new ones haven't started yet, I'm still checking my emails and notifications, I do have the group project, and I'm doing Computer Science, I need a computer to science god damn it, how am I supposed to reduce that. I'll let this one slide. Because I can't really digitally detox... I'm not ready for that or even see the need to, but I can reduce the amount of time I spend on my phone, no phone time between 10PM and 7AM, that worked before in the past. But as for computer time, yeah I can't really reduce that.

Find positive ways to distract yourself

I used to have this bad habit I'm still recovering, I tricked myself into thinking it could help get the "edge off", I regret it and I'm glad I'm not that person, incase you're wondering its not drugs or weed or alcohol or any bad substances... I've never done any of that, and NO I DON'T VAPE. I'm as a clean as they get, but there's always been something I've been struggling with for almost four years now but I think I've finally learnt to let it go for the better.

You could say it was a negative distraction for myself, but no more of that I just need a positive way to distract myself, perhaps calling up an old friend? I haven't spoken to a number of people, I am messaging someone but they're not a regular person I talk to because of odd response times but I'm one of those people who'll reply as soon as they see your message no matter how long you take because I get people have stuff to do or don't feel like replying at times, its completely normal.

Perhaps I'll start playing games again? But that can get out of hand pretty quickly, actually... having coffee with my best friend can work? Yeah, there are plenty, I'll just ask her (oh yeah, a bit of a rant but I'm a guy, my best friend is a girl so yeah that can be a thing, why don't people get it! Guys and Girls don't have to date to have fun, goodness I hate my class mates, for CS nerds they're sure talkative, they're nice people but JEEEEZ). I'll ask her if I want to be distracted, or my other friends as well

Take care of yourself 

I need to eat nourishing food, I ate a lot of KFC and boy it ain't good for ya, but it helps fill me up but I'll try to be better than that and eat better. I'll start eating from this restaurant I frequent they sell some delicious and nourishing food. I'll also try to sleep by 10 and wake by 7, that should be plenty of rest yeah? I will drink water every day, trust me I'm a water freak.

Focus on what you can control

I can't really do everything, so I should be able to tell others what to do, I am group leader after all. I'll see what I can do and what should be done, I'll delegate and try to organize more. So, that the objective is very clear. I'm not a stallion anymore, I can't code for hours on end like I used to, but luckily there's capable members in my group so I'll delegate the work to them and do my group leader duties.

Talk to a coach or therapist

NO

Well that lists everything, I wrote so much without realizing it, this was all in one sitting so I'm impressed with myself. I always did enjoy writing stories, I'm not as creative anymore but when it comes to stuff like this, I have like 3 filled up diaries.

If you made it this far, I'm so impressed with you, thank you for taking an interest and reading my first public blog (I've written so many private ones that I'll never release because I'm so embarrassed plus its useless and uninteresting, like unfinished stories, other diary attempts, blah blah)

Well thanks again you and I'll see you in the next one

[writtenjewels]

Switched part 8

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

“Where were you last night?” The question popped out of his mouth as soon as he and Jason were close enough to talk. The guard's face turned a little red and he turned his head aside. “Dar wasn't upset,” Eric mentioned. “So don't worry about Salim getting in trouble.”

“Yeah. Salim said it'd be all right.” Jason turned back to Eric. “What about you and Lord al-Basri? The fuck is goin' on there?”

“I really don't know.” Last night after parting from the man, Eric's body had echoed with the feel of Dar's weight pressing him against the door. The way that warm hand felt traveling down his side. Primal desire had stirred with the need for intimate touch.

“It's your business,” Jason shrugged. “I ain't gonna say anything.” Eric nodded gratefully. In truth, his feelings concerning Lord al-Basri were very confusing.

Though he never considered being with other men before, as a man of science Eric was always open to explore and experiment. There was certainly physical appeal to the way Dar kissed him and the feel of the man's hands and body. But there was also their conversations, Dar's many attempts at teaching Eric “languages”, and the fact that Eric was comfortable talking and being around Dar. Eric would be happy spending the afternoon teaching Dar to play Minesweeper or walking with him around the lake.

And Eric called last night a date. There was no getting around that.

“All right, people,” Rachel spoke up. “We have a meeting with Lord al-Basri in two hours. I want everyone prepared and in formal attire. We want to impress him. Eric, Nick, don't forget to leave time in your presentations for me to translate.”

Eric wondered if he should tell her that he already talked about his work with Dar, and the man seemed to follow along without translation. When you speak of your passion, you are beautiful. His heart beat faster remembering those words. After their heated kiss last night, it would be strange to be so formal around Dar.

– – –

Admittedly Dar moved the schedule of ambassador meetings around so he would see the Americans first. It was a flimsy excuse to see Eric again. When it was Eric's turn, Dar noticed that the presentation was much more stiff than when Eric talked through his work last night. It was all about what the software did and how it could be used, nothing of Eric's enthusiasm for the work or his excitement during the process.

In short, what Dar heard at the meeting was enough to satisfy the ruler of a palace but not nearly enough to satisfy a man with growing affection toward the presenter.

“Delegate King,” he called. “Will you stay a moment longer?” Eric paused, but so did Rachel.

[Is something wrong?] she asked in Arabic.

“A moment with your scientist, please,” Dar requested in English. “Alone. My guard can translate.” Rachel pursed her lips in displeasure. Dar stared her down until she finally nodded and left the room. Eric turned to him expectantly. “Your other talk was better,” Dar told him.

“To be fair,” Eric responded, “I wrote that presentation thinking I would give it to the lord of this palace. I didn't think you'd care about my passion.”

“I care chiefly about your passion,” Dar argued. Eric's eyes went wide and his face flushed. Dar smirked at him. “Second date tonight,” Dar suggested. Eric didn't answer right away. “Eric,” Dar prodded him.

“Is that what this is, then?” he finally asked. “We're dating?” Dar moved closer. When Eric was still, Dar lifted a hand to touch the American's face. His fingers slid up into the blonde hair.

“What you call two who enjoy each other, and want to spend time together.”

“Using logic on me.” Eric wrinkled his nose. “How do you know me so well?”

“I pay attention.” He pressed his lips delicately against Eric's. The response was immediate as Eric made the kiss more defined. Dar's fingers pushed farther into Eric's hair to keep their lips together. They broke apart, Eric flushed and breathing hard.

“I should, um... they're waiting for me.”

“I know.” Dar brushed his fingers one last time through Eric's hair to make sure it looked messy. He wanted that woman to see her ex-husband in this state and have her wonder. “Second date, Eric?” he mentioned hopefully. “Meet me in the garden.”

“I met a handsome guard there a few days ago,” Eric mused. “I remember the place.” He slipped out of Dar's reach and headed out into the hall. Dar let out a sigh.

So he was 'dating' an American man. It was a surprise, to say the least.