A/N: Reader is plus sized and female. No other descriptors used.
Warnings: Injury, Parent with dementia, Work stress. Please let me know if I missed any!
Part of the Royal Vows AU.
Previous -- Next
Jonathan checks his phone again. It's been four days and still no updates, no requests, nothing from you. He shouldn't worry, right? Maybe you have other people who can help you out. But if that were the case, would your mother have been alone that night he brought you home?
He chides himself. He needs to focus on his work, he can't get lost in thought about a single employee who is on leave. The Princess and her people are still settling in and there is much to be done for them on top of his usual duties.
Yet even as he roams the halls, putting out fires both literal and metaphorical, he cannot help but miss you. You would always greet him with a smile and a chipper "good morning, Mr. Pine!" And now that he's surrounded by people who are more reserved, who look at him with the expectation of being assigned more work, he finds himself in need of some sunshine and cheer. Someone with seemingly endless optimism even as they continually tripped over their own feet. Someone who, like him, took pride in their work, even if it was just sweeping and dusting.
As a servant comes looking for him, Jonathan tries to switch back into work mode.
"Mr. Pine, Angela is here with the latest fresh produce but she needs your signature," the servant explains.
Jonathan nods and heads towards the kitchens when he gets an idea. Perhaps Ms. Angela would be willing to deliver a small box of produce to your home. It might not be much, you might not even need it, but it might also help his mind settle a bit.
"Oh dear, aren't you supposed to be at work?" Mama asks for probably the thirtieth time this week.
Smiling softly, sadly, you show her the bruising on your rib cage. "I've been ordered to go on leave until I heal up," you explain again.
Mama pauses for a second. "Oh, yes, I remember now. I'm sorry, dear."
"It's okay, Mama," you nod. "It's hard to remember when I've gotten injured so many other times before."
She huffs. "Still, I should be more cognizant of these things. I don't know where my mind has been getting to since your Papa passed."
"Grief takes its toll, Mama," you reassure. "I'll be okay."
"Oh how I worry about you," she confesses. "I wish we could've set you up with a fine man who could take care of you. Someone who would make sure you never had to work so you wouldn't be at such risk of hurting yourself."
Mama's concerns are well meaning, you know. But it still hurts to think she doesn't want you working. That she's given up on you ever being less klutzy. Maybe that's why you latched onto Mr. Pine as strongly as you have. He works with you and, when you're not breaking things, he praises your work and dedication.
For now, though, you have more pressing concerns. You need to get to the grocery store but you're dreading the bus ride. You can't ask Mama to do it, obviously, and you're not sure your neighbors would be up for it. Papa was always the one people gravitated towards and were willing to help. Without him in your lives, the people didn't stick around so long, didn't offer assistance as much. Especially as you were so caught up in your work and taking care of Mama, it didn't give you much time to socialize, further pushing away old acquaintances.
A knock at your door startles you from your thoughts and you have to catch yourself before hurting your ribs again.
"Just a minute," you call out. Your mind runs through all the possibilities of who could be at the door. A package Mama forgot she ordered? A home inspection you'd forgotten to add to the calendar? An eviction notice you because of something you didn't realize you or Mama did?
You open the door and quickly recognize the woman in the doorway holding a box.
"Ms. Angela? What are you doing here?"
"Mr. Pine asked me to make a special delivery," she shrugs. "It's all bought and paid for, but I was told you've got some broken ribs so it's on me to bring into the kitchen. If you'll let me."
"Oh, of course!" you sniffle, trying to carefully get out of her way. "I'm so sorry about the state of the place. I wasn't expecting anyone."
"I understand," Ms. Angela assures. "Just lead the way."
"Oh, what's this?" Mama gasps. "I didn't know we were expecting visitors. Dear, why are making her carry that heavy box? That's not polite for a hostess. Oh, I need to get the tea on!"
"Mama, why don't you go freshen up while I get the tea started for Ms. Angela?" you suggest.
"Ah yes, thank you Dear! Lovely to meet you Angela, I hope you like lemon tarts! I just made some the other day."
"I'm sure I will, ma'am," Ms. Angela smiles and nods.
Mama walks away and you let out a small sigh of relief. "The kitchen is over this way. I can't thank you enough for this Ms. Angela!"
"Like I said, Pine asked and paid so I've got not problems dropping off some goods for you. It's mainly vegetables, I hope that's okay."
"It's more than okay! You've no idea how much stress you've saved me," you confess, a little teary eyed. "I'd give you a hug if I weren't worried about my ribs."
"Aww, don't worry about all that," she smiles. "Just do me a favor and let Pine know. I could tell him it was delivered, but I know it'll mean more coming from you." She gives you a wink as she sets down the box.
"I really should make sure express my gratitude," you nod. "That's the bare minimum of politeness, after all."
She smiles cryptically. "You know he ain't ever asked me to do this for other people."
Heat rushes to your face and you look away, embarrassed. "I guess he knows what a sad state we're in. He's such a kind, observant man."
"Just promise me you'll let him know. I gotta get back to the farm."
"I promise! And thank you again!"
Jonathan is in his office when his phone rings. His heart leaps when he sees it's you calling.
"Hello?" he answers.
"Mr. Pine," you sniffle and his heart drops. "Mr. Pine, I can't...I can't thank you enough."
Jonathan smiles, biting back a sigh of relief. "It's alright, Papillon. I'm just glad I wasn't overstepping."
"Not at all, Mr. Pine!" you're quick to reassure. "This should feed Mama and myself for at least a week!"
"I'm glad to hear it," he smiles. "And please, do not hesitate to let me know if you need anything else."
"I...I'll try, Mr. Pine."
You hang up and Jonathan spends the rest of his day with a small smile on his face.
Summary: Career Day for your students brings in a surprise visitor.
A/N: Written for @castielscaplan's Love Doesn't Live Here challenge. Prompt: Character thinks they aren't good enough for the object of their pining
A/N2: Reader is plus sized, female. No other physical descriptors used.
When Adelay asked if, for Career Day, her actor uncle could stop by, you had no idea she meant Jonathan Pine. Not only was the man world famous for his acting abilities, but he'd also earned the titles of Most Eligible Bachelor and Sexiest Man Alive.
And now he's in your classroom, talking to your students about the life of an actor.
You were absolutely flabbergasted when he'd walked in, Adelay holding his hand and proudly introducing him to everyone. Despite the fame and fortune, the man had a genuinely relaxed, welcoming air about him. Truly the photos you'd seen of him couldn't truly capture the man's aura.
Of course Adelay introduced the two of you. If you were charmed by his smile, your heart melted as he kissed the back of your hand.
"Adelay speaks highly of you," he comments. "I daresay you're her favorite teacher."
Heat rushes to your face as you struggle to respond. "Oh, I'm certain she says that about all of her teachers. She's such a delightful young lady."
His smile grows a little at your response. "I can assure you, she is sincere."
"You're not going to talk me into giving her a better grade, Mr. Pine," you tease. "Besides, she doesn't need the extra credit."
He chuckles softly, "je suis étourdi par votre beauté."
"What...what was that?" you blink.
"Oh, I was...merely...complimenting your...your teaching."
"Why thank you, Mr. Pine," you beam.
You're not at all surprised when Mr. Pine practically takes over the entire Career Day. You're certain you'll need to apologize to the parents who were expecting to present. It's not as if you knew, but they never care. It's still always your fault.
At least Mr. Pine seems to be enjoying himself. He doesn't hesitate to take selfies with the students. He expertly manages to navigate too personal questions from the children, sometimes with your assistance as you regularly remind your students that their questions need to be about Mr. Pine's career, not personal life. You make sure your students see you writing when they try to ask inappropriate questions so they know you're paying attention and there will be consequences.
But as you keep your focus on your students, you miss the occasional looks Jonathan sends your way. They are subtle, of course. He needs to be careful. He'd hate for you to get caught up in a media storm because he can't help the way he looks at you.
The bell rings and, for the first time in your teaching career, the students are loathe to leave the classroom. You tell everyone to say "thank you" to Mr. Pine and encourage them to head out so they can brag to their friends and family that they got to meet him. That seems to do the trick and the room is emptied except for yourself, Mr. Pine and Adelay.
"Thanks again for letting Uncle Jon come in today!" Adelay beams. "He doesn't get to do 'normal people' things often."
Jonathan blushes at his niece's words. "Sincerely, Mademoiselle, thank you. I understand my presence can create a bit of a stir and that generally means more work for someone such as yourself."
"I won't say it wasn't a problem," you confess. "Adelay failed to mention that her 'actor uncle' was yourself so I was caught off guard. But I have to admit it was the most engaged my students have ever been."
"Oh I refuse to believe that," he replies. "You are delightful and I do not doubt your students pay wonderful attention to your lessons."
Heat rushes to your cheeks and you're not sure how to respond. Thankfully Adelay saves you by reminding Mr. Pine they need to get going.
For the rest of the week you keep yourself from thinking about how he looked at you. Part of you swears he looked more softly at you than anyone else. But it's simply wishful thinking. It has to be wishful thinking. Someone as handsome, intelligent, charismatic as him? There's no way he's interested in a frumpy, oversized woman like yourself. No. Best to protect yourself and keep your heart from hoping.
In another part of the world, Jonathan is trying to focus on an interview. He's had a lot of trouble focusing lately. Ever since he met Adelay's gorgeous teacher, in fact. But she lives such a quiet life, surely she can't be interested in him coming along and bringing her into his world. No. Best to keep her safe and shut down his feelings.
Summary: Your first convention doesn't go as planned.
A/N: Reader is female, plus sized, 30+ years old. No other physical descriptors used.
Word Count: ~2k
Warnings: Not taking 'no' for an answer. Please let me know if I missed any!
Your first ever convention! It's something you've dreamed about since you were a teenager but you could never find the time or the money to attend. Many will probably say you're too old to go to such things but you won't let them dampen your spirits.
The hotel closest to the convention is incredibly pricey but it'll be worth it to have a sanctuary of sorts that you can get to quickly. You're certain things will be crowded and it'll be nice to have a space just for you to go and decompress as you need.
Checking in you find yourself a bit flustered at the incredibly handsome, very polite man behind the desk. "Jonathan," according to his name tag.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, madam?" His face looks so sincere you're tongue tied for a moment.
"Um, no, I...I'll just go to my room. Gotta rest up if I'm to keep up with the kids at the convention."
"Ah yes," his smile widens. "Many of our other guests will be attending as well. It is always entertaining to see the varied and detailed costumes."
Your cheeks burn a little with embarrassment at the idea he'll be disappointed. "Well, no costumes for me, I'm afraid."
"Of course not. You're too beautiful to be covered up by such things."
Letting yourself giggle, even as your cheeks burn hotter, you playfully give him an "oh you" look as you walk away to the elevator.
Things are off to a bit of a rough start. You thought you were going to be early so you could get a good spot in line for your first event. Dismay hits as you learn that "early" is a relative term. At the very least you'll be able to get into the Q&A with the actors you wanted to see. And really, that's what matters.
Especially as you came prepared for waiting. You've got a physical book that you're hoping to get signed by the author, Smith Jerrod. It's another Q&A later in the week, but you're keeping it with you so you can reread.
There's a scoff behind you as you start to read and the man behind you comments, "you know this isn't the line for Jerrod, right?"
"Of course," you reply, arching an eyebrow. "It's for the voice actors from the Hawkeye cartoons."
"Don't you think it's disrespectful to read someone else's work while you're waiting for their talk?"
"Not really," you shake your head. "They're not watching us and I need a way to pass the time."
He huffs again and grumbles to himself. Thankfully they start seating people so you can get away from him now.
After the Q&A you're feeling much better and you decide to go walking around to the various booths. You make sure to admire and compliment the various costumes you see, from the bland to the elaborate. Thought was put into these things and you're happy to give credit where it's due.
Growling from your stomach has you looking around for a food court of some kind. Maybe there are street vendors out in the fresh air. There is a restaurant in your hotel, too. Perhaps that would be a good call. Freshen up, drop off some of your purchases and freebies, and get some good food.
The focus on your mission leads you to miss that you're being followed by the man from the line who scoffed at you.
"Hey! Hey! Jerrod lady!" he calls, making you turn around. "Hey, taking a food break? Not a bad idea. I'll join you."
"Oh, um, I'm not interested in having company," you reply.
"Ah, introvert. Gotta recharge your batteries. I get it. Let me help you get to where you're going, make sure no one bugs you."
"I'm good, thanks," you sternly reply.
"Hey, I'm trying to be a nice guy, here. Don't be such a bitch."
"Then learn to take 'no' for an answer," you shoot back.
"Whatever," he grumbles as he stomps off.
Part of you wants to immediately run to your hotel room but what if he follows you again? You don't want to spend the rest of the week hiding in your room because of one asshole. But how do you even know that he will follow you? Maybe he's too upset to do so?
Another growl from your stomach has you forcing a decision. The restaurant at the hotel first. That way you can get some food to help your nerves and that asshole doesn't have to know where you're staying if he follows you. Sure, it's a nice restaurant and you'd rather freshen up first, but food and safety get priority.
Enjoying your meal, you're feeling better but still on alert. You opted for the corner booth where you'll be able to see if Jackass enters or walks by the restaurant. It also provides some decent isolation so you feel less frazzled about your appearance.
At least until the flirty man who helped you check into the hotel walks up.
"Ah, I was hoping I'd run into you today," Jonathan says. "I do want to apologize if I was too forward last night. I fear I scared you off."
"Oh, no worries," you shake your head smiling. "I know you have to play nice for the customers. It's all good."
"Actually, I am required to be the utmost professional with our clientele," he counters shyly.
"Ah, you were probably tired," you nod. "I understand customer service jobs can be very draining."
"I meant every word, I assure you."
"That's very kind of you to say," you acknowledge. Mentally you know you don't stand a chance with someone like him. He probably got reported for being "too forward," as he put it. You know there's no chance he actually meant it.
Jonathan looks as though he's prepared to leave but then you see Jackass walk into the restaurant and you visibly flinch.
"Are you okay?"
"Sorry, sorry," you shake your head. "It's just...It's probably nothing but the man who just entered was...he's been very rude to me today."
Jonathan's face contorts in concern. "You fear he followed you from the convention?"
You nod. "But, as I said, it's probably nothing. This restaurant is reasonably close to the convention. He could simply be looking for a meal as well."
"If you should require it, I am willing to either have the man ejected or be your escort around the hotel," he offers.
Your eyes soften and it wrenches Jonathan's heart. "That's very generous of you, Jonathan."
"Oh, hey, Jerrod lady!" Jackass shouts, getting the attention of everyone in the restaurant. "What a coincidence, seeing you here. Is this guy bothering you? I'll get rid of him for you."
Jonathan doesn't turn, opting to quietly ask, "how would you like this handled?"
"Wait for me by the elevators? If he gets to be too much I'll need a quick escape."
Jonathan nods with a small bow and turns away, fixing his jacket.
"Yeah, you better run," Jackass mumbles, puffing out his chest as Jonathan walks past.
While he's distracted you get the attention of the nearest waitress.
"If this loudmouth sits down with me, can you make sure he's distracted while I pay my bill?"
She winks and nods in understanding before tending to the nearby tables.
"So what's good at this place?" he asks as he moves closer.
"I'm sure whatever you get will be fine," you comment, trying to hide your nervousness. He goes to sit down but you stop him. "I'm not interested in company right now, sir."
"Oh please," he rolls his eyes and sits down anyways. "That means you definitely owe me for chasing off that asshole who was bothering you."
"I didn't ask you to do that," you argue, keeping your tone level.
"Yeah, because you didn't see me," he shrugs. "Good thing he recognized I had claim."
"Claim?"
"Sure. I was the first one to talk to you, so I get dibs."
"Actually he talked to me first," you say carefully.
"Well then he recognized I was the better male."
It takes all of your strength to not let out a groan. Arguing with his type never does you any good. Worse yet, you could lose your time at the convention for creating a public disturbance.
No. You've got the semblance of a plan. You're going to stick to it.
"Listen, I just finished my meal. Do you mind if I go pay the bill while you place your order?"
"That shouldn't be a problem, so long as you come back so you can properly thank me."
"Of course," you smile thinly, fighting the bile rising in your throat.
After a couple of steps you hear the waitress start talking to jackass and you rush to the host to pay your bill. They wave you on whispering you can come back later when it's safe, "Mr. Pine vouched for you."
While you're not entirely sure who Mr. Pine is, you're not one to question a good thing. Taking a quick glance to be sure Jackass can't see you, you start speed walking towards the elevators.
Out in the main lobby you can see Jonathan anxiously pacing.
"Jonathan," you call, waving your hand. His shoulders relax when he sees you and quickly presses the button for the elevator.
"You're alright?"
"Will be," you breathe. "Also, if you're able, please suggest that my waitress gets a raise."
He smirks at that just as the elevator doors open.
"What the hell?!" you hear Jackass shout from the restaurant.
"Don't look at him," Jonathan quietly murmurs as he gets into the elevator with you.
Jonathan presses the button for the top floor, ignoring Jackass's continued exclamations. As he presses the "Close Door" button, Jonathan puts a finger to his ear, implying he can't hear the other man, even as he storms closer.
The doors close and you let out a breath of relief.
Jonathan takes out a walkie talkie and informs security of a disturbance in the lobby. "Call the police if needed, but I do not want him back on the premises."
"Copy that, Mr. Pine."
"Oh, so you're the one who vouched for me with the restaurant," you smile softly.
"Anything to help a guest," Jonathan smiles back. "And, I hope you don't mind my selecting the top floor. On the off chance he's able to see which floor we get off at, I don't want it to be your actual floor."
"I appreciate the extra precaution," you chirp. "I just wish..."
"How can I be of service?" he encourages.
"You only work with the hotel, not the convention," you shrug.
Jonathan nods in understanding. "You know, I have been encouraged to take some time off. I have so much of it saved up because I never found a reason to use it. With your permission, I would like to accompany you to the convention."
Your shoulders tense and he quickly adds, "nothing untoward, of course! I would wait for you at the convention center, not setting foot in the hotel, lest I be accused of working during my vacation. If, at any time, I get to be too much, I shall give you some space and still not return to the hotel."
The elevator dings and, though it's not your floor, you instinctively take a step out. Jonathan follows you, making sure to not be too close.
Turning back to him you decide to take a chance. You hold your hand out, "that sounds like fun."
Jonathan beams back at you as he shakes your hand.
Summary: An outing with friends has you and Jonathan talking about a big decision.
Warnings: Insecure reader. Please let me know if I missed any!
A/N: Reader is 40+ years old and female. No physical descriptors used.
Previous -- Next
Series Masterlist; Tech Tuesdays Masterlist
It was truly a lovely day for a double date with Sy and Darling. The weather was perfect for outdoor seating so they could bring Lily along as well. You'd last seen Darling and Lily a couple years ago when the Jensen family asked everyone to help with introducing the Twins to Trick or Treating.
"I'm so glad we could find the time to do this," Jonathan tells the table after the waiter leaves with your orders. "It's lovely to meet outside of work, especially as we can include Lady Darling!"
Darling giggles shyly and you smile in understanding. Jonathan is a gentleman so every woman is a "lady". It can be overwhelming when you're not used to such courtesy, especially from someone you don't know well. There was a time when you might be jealous of him being so courteous to other women but you know that's simply who he is. Plus, you're the only one who gets to see his more "ungentlemanly" behavior. He trusts you with the parts of him that aren't so charming, so precise.
"And Lady Lily," you add cheerfully.
Darling's german shepherd perks her ears up at her name and you give her some chin scritches.
"Y'all thought about getting yourselves a pup?" Sy asks.
"I have," you admit, surprising Jonathan. "But my apartment complex doesn't allow for pets."
"Mine does," Jonathan offers.
"If that's your way of asking me to move in with you, you're likely to succeed," you laugh. Under the table you give Jonathan's thigh a light squeeze, silently telling him to save that topic for another time.
"Perhaps I should look into getting a pup at that adoption fair the company is sponsoring," Jonathan adds, keeping the topic of animals but dropping the idea of moving in together.
"The company sponsors those?" Darling's eyes widen. "I had no idea!"
"Me neither," Sy grumbles.
"Yes, I'm afraid our CFO has trouble getting the word out about charitable sponsorships the company has a hand in. I'm certain the vast majority of employees just delete those emails the events coordinator sends out."
"Maybe if they made it a get-together for employees with pets it would get more attention," Darling suggests.
"That's not a bad idea!" you enthusiastically beam. "It would be a great way to get more people there in general, give everyone a chance to experience a bit of life with a pet and make informed decisions."
"Do you think enough people at the office have pets?" Darling asks.
"Well we know Everett and Maestro smuggled in a cat. Pretty safe to assume one of them adopted it," Jonathan muses.
"And Ran's got a puppy," Sy adds.
"He does?" you gush.
"Yeah, he was asking advice on trainin'," Sy explains. "I hope he sticks with it 'cause an untrained corgi is a menace."
"And then we can bring in Lily," Darling promises. "That's three pets in just one department!"
"Wonder if we can talk Romanov into a Bring-Your-Pet-to-Work Day the Friday before," Sy ponders.
Jonathan chuckles. "I think she'd be amenable to it, but we'll need to get that discussion going soon."
"Sounds like we got a plan for Monday," Sy smiles.
"So you want me to move in with you?" you quietly ask as you and Jonathan settle onto the couch at your apartment.
I want you to marry me, he thinks.
"I would," he says. "I find I sleep better, wake up in a better mood, and even enjoy spending time in my home when you are there."
"I have to admit, I feel similarly. Though I'll admit I'm nervous about...it's not 'giving up my independence' but..."
"We work together and live together, when do you get time for you?"
"Yes! Thank you for understanding what I'm trying to say."
"Perhaps we should look into a bigger place? A two-bedroom so that you can have your own space?"
"That doesn't feel fair, though. You need your own space as well."
"I have a private office," he argues. "I have the ability to lock the door, close the blinds and be left alone. You don't have such a space."
"Even though it's at work?"
"To be fair, my love, I couldn't be such a workaholic if I didn't find peace in my work environment."
"I suppose."
"And I have my office tailored to my preferences. Should we get a second room, it will be tailored to yours."
"Can we afford it? Because you know I'm not letting you pay all of the rent yourself."
"You've more the mind for numbers," Jonathan hesitates.
"Hmm. I guess we'll have to do some apartment hunting so we can check out some rent rates."
Summary: You get in your own head about where you and Jonathan stand.
Warnings: Insecure reader, Period talk, Pregnancy talk. Please let me know if I missed any!
Word Count: ~1.3k
A/N: Reader is 40+ years old and female. No physical descriptors used.
Previous -- Next
Series Masterlist; Tech Tuesdays Masterlist
"I still can't believe Bernardo was actually Franco's evil twin," G grumbles as he shakes his head. "Very clever of the writers to use fraternal twins instead of identical."
"They definitely played us!" you agreed.
Ever since the two of you learned you both watched La Mujer Fuerte, a Telenovela, you've had morning "meetings" the day after new episodes to talk. You appreciated that it was the kind of show where you could turn your brain off. G enjoyed that he couldn't predict where the story was going. Very different approaches to the same result of enjoying yourselves.
Jonathan had tried to get into the shows, he really did. But you know he's grateful you have someone else to talk to about them. It's similar to how he and Syverson talk about their military services. You never know what to say or how to respond, so you're glad he has someone else to talk to. Someone who understands.
"And to think, Dr. Carrera knew Isabella had had twins but never gave away her secret!" you add.
"They must have paid him quite a lot for that," G nods.
"Or Carrera knew he could use the information to his advantage one day!" you whisper yell.
G's eyes widen. "I hadn't thought of that."
"Hey desk lady," Lloyd's voice interrupts. "Where's that dipshit Brit? He was supposed to be at my office 7 minutes ago!"
You bite back a rude comment. Especially as he's "softened" as much as a man like him can. He hasn't said anything about your weight or age in months. And he's even stopped randomly dropping by to have shouting matches with Jonathan.
"According to the calendar, the meeting was set to be in his office."
"The fuck?" Lloyd yells, grabbing his phone. You guess he's checking his calendar. "Mother fucker!"
As he storms into Jonathan's office you shake your head. How Maestro can put up with that loudmouth diva is beyond you.
"Back to work," G sighs. "Oh, keep an ear out for Johnny. He's been..."
"Less active than usual?"
"Among other things," he nods before heading back to his desk.
As you find yourself alone again, your shoulders tense up waiting for Lloyd and Jonathan to start shouting at each other. Sure it hasn't happened in a long while, but you can't shake the habit. With Johnny maybe being in trouble on top of that and your concerns about Syverson and Darling, you feel yourself getting very emotional.
Perhaps it's just my period, you think. Then again, your period hasn't started yet. Wasn't it supposed to start last week?
Grabbing your phone you go to your period tracker. You're a week late. It's a struggle to resist the urge to get up and run to the nearest pharmacy for a test. You're grateful you haven't moved in with Jonathan yet as you're going to need some time to yourself tonight.
But isn't this the kind of thing you share with a partner? The fear of a possible pregnancy? No, no. Better to make sure there isn't a problem. Right? You don't want him thinking you're careless or trying to trap him. But that doesn't sound like something Jonathan would think. You should know, you've been working for him for years, even before you started sharing a bed.
Then again, you've never brought up the topic of kids with Jonathan outside of talking about your nieces and nephews. What if this is a hard line for him that you didn't know about because it was never discussed?
You have to get out of your head! It used to be you could get help from your work friends in the breakroom, but they're still upset with you. Maybe you should get G back here? Maybe you should do as he asked and check up on Johnny? Talking to Syverson probably won't help because he and Darling are actually trying for a baby so he won't be able to distract you from thinking about possibly being pregnant.
Maybe you could talk to Maestro? Not for long, though. Every time Lloyd gets out of a meeting with Jonathan, he goes right for her desk.
You're so busy thinking of who you can talk to to get out of your own head that you didn't notice Lloyd and Jonathan had finished their meeting.
"Later desk lady," Lloyd calls, already walking past you. Clearly he's speaking loudly so Maestro knows to expect him.
Surprisingly he stops and turns around. "You know, I'm finding myself in need of an assistant. How about you switch departments and be my bitch instead of his?"
"There isn't enough money in the world to get me to work for you, Mr. Hansen," you snap back.
"Ouch!" He playfully acts like you physically hurt him. "And be careful with that foreplay. I'm spoken for, madam." He winks before walking away.
Rolling your eyes you turn back to Jonathan, trying to get back into work mode.
"The man is truly odious," he groans quietly.
"Only reason I tolerate him is he's apparently very good to Maestro," you nod.
Jonathan considers that. "To each their own, I suppose."
"It's not for us to worry about," you dismiss. "We've got some work to do, yes?"
"Not as much as we used to after a meeting with Hansen," Jonathan hums. "Though there is likely to be more coming up. Apparently employees are using AI programs so Legal needs to work with IT to make sure that stops, lest company secrets get out."
"Ugh, that's going to be such a headache," you groan.
"That it is," he nods. "What do you say tonight we get in some...distraction to help us brace for the incoming work?"
Your cheeks heat up and you give Jonathan a small smile. "That sounds lovely," you admit. But then you remember your period tracker. "But not tonight. Tonight I...I think I just need some alone time."
Jonathan looks hurt for a second but he quickly recovers. "Of course, my dear, Rose. Whatever you need."
"Thank you for being so good to me," you mutter.
"If someone has upset you---"
"No," you interrupt. "I'm just...hormonal. You know how my periods can get."
He nods in sympathetic understanding. "Please do let me know if you need anything."
"I promise I will, my darling man."
Tears of relief pour from your eyes. To be safe, you picked up three tests. All of them came up negative. Maybe it's just a change in your cycle, you are getting to perimenopausal age after all. But it doesn't hurt to check, or triple check, these things.
As the tension in your body releases, you set about making yourself a bubble bath. You wish Jonathan was there with you, but you can explain everything to him tomorrow. Or this weekend. Or whenever your period actually starts and you can get some peace of mind that you didn't get bad pregnancy tests or do something wrong with them.
As the water starts up, you message Jonathan, "Thank you for being you."
In another part of town, Jonathan sits on his couch, unable to pay attention to the show he put on. He misses you. He's not sure what it was that upset you, but clearly something did. He believes you when you say it wasn't someone upsetting you. You'd never hide anything like that from him. Maybe it is your hormones, as you claimed. He'd rather be with you to help you through any emotional turmoil you're enduring, but he can, and will, respect your wish to be alone. Sometimes that's the best way to deal with one's thoughts, as he knows from experience.
His phone dings. A text, from you. It is a small thing, but the message, the meaning is clear and he is able to smile and rest a little easier.
Summary: Your injury gets addressed and Jonathan offers to help.
A/N: Reader is plus sized and female. No other descriptors used.
Warnings: Injury, Parent with dementia, Work stress. Please let me know if I missed any!
Part of the Royal Vows AU.
Previous -- Next
You wake up slowly, unsure of what's causing all the commotion around you. As you open your eyes, the memories come back and you try to move, only to be stopped by the incredible pain in your side. You let out a whimper as you stay still and wait for the pain to subside. You've gotta get back to work! You can't disappoint Mr. Pine by living down to Arne's expectations of you.
Jonathan says your name and your eyes snap open as you try to stand up again. He gently puts a hand on your shoulder stopping you.
"You need to stay in place," he gently orders.
"Please, Mr. Pine, I'm so sorry! I'll get right back to work. I'm sorry I tripped again!"
"It is not your fault you were injured on the job," he quietly reassures. "I've already called a chauffeur to take you to the hospital. Are you familiar with Mr. Dayton White?"
"Oh, yes, a little," you nod. "He was nice to me when I still working in the kitchens."
"Excellent. Now, let me see your phone. I am adding myself to your contacts. You will update me as to your status as things come up. Understood?"
"Oh, um, yes, Mr. Pine," you mumble, handing over your phone. "Again, I'm so sorry!"
"Again, it is not your fault. If anything, the fault lies with me for putting someone so clearly inadequate in charge. The move is already going much smoother under Max's supervision." He hands you back your phone. "Mr. White should be here momentarily. You are to move slowly and carefully, watching your breathing. Understood?"
"Yes, Mr. Pine," you confirm before he turns and gets back to work supervising the Princess's move-in.
Dayton makes sure to drive extra carefully with you in the front seat. When you confirm you're okay with him talking he starts telling you about the car. It isn't one of the royal family's cars but it's still much nicer than anything you could afford. He admits he used to drive race cars and sometimes misses the speed but it was really good training for driving safely.
You try to pay attention, but every small bump in the road hurts you. Every attempt at a deep breath hurts you. You can't breathe properly to settle your nerves as you internally panic about your job and taking care of your mother. What are you going to tell her? Well, at least Mr. Pine's words make you think you'll be given the time off you need to heal without any pay cuts or anything. But what if he hires someone else in your place who isn't a klutz? What if it takes you too long to get better? What if something happens to Mama?
Another stab of pain hits, interrupting your panic. You're grateful to see the hospital in sight.
As Dayton rolls up to the entrance he lets you know, "I'm under orders to make sure you get seen and to be on alert for when you need to get taken home. You just text Mr. Pine and I'll be here quick to pick you up, okay?"
"Okay," you breathe through the pain. "Thanks, Dayton."
"Not a problem," he smiles as he gets out and calls for a wheelchair to take you inside.
Jonathan continues to check his phone. Thankfully your injury was the only mishap, the only black mark on the day. The Princess's servants had been appeased, noting how quickly Jonathan stepped in to fire Arne, promote someone competent and take care of the poor girl who was injured.
But Jonathan can't let it go. It was his fault Arne was in charge. He'd put his trust in the man and Arne had caused someone to get hurt by blatantly disregarding safety precautions. What's worse, you had taken the damage to yourself instead of letting some objects potentially break.
He feels a pang of guilt about that. He can't be sure of your reasoning, but somehow he knows it was your discussion on treating objects like they're as fragile as butterfly wings that led to this. It's a poor reflection of King Rogers when their Butler is encouraging people to put objects ahead of themselves. The Royal Family has always been keen on serving the people, how had Jonathan forgotten that?
When he gets the notification that you're being discharged from the hospital, Jonathan decides to pick you up himself. He has much to make up for.
Several hours later the hospital is ready to send you home. Yes, one of your ribs is broken, but at least none of your internal organs were damaged. You're under strict orders to not lay down to sleep, to ice your ribs a few times a day, and to make sure you cough to keep your lungs working. And you only have to do this for six weeks. You wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Pine decided that was too long and either fired you or made you come back to work after just a week or so.
To your surprise, you'll be given the chance to tell him right away as he's arrived to take you home.
"Mr. Pine? Where... where is Dayton?"
"It's quite late in the day. Mr. White's off the clock so I am picking you up," he explains. "Please do get in carefully. I will close the door behind you."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Pine," you murmur tiredly as you carefully sit.
Jonathan gets in on the driver's side and puts your address into the vehicle's GPS. He waits until you're on the road before initiating conversation.
"Did the doctor say how long you will need to recover?"
"Um...he said..." you hesitate, debating whether or not you should tell him the full 6 weeks.
"I understand typical rib injury recovery can take several weeks," he interrupts your thoughts, his tone reassuring. He sees your confusion and explains, "I encountered several types of injuries during military service."
"Oh...um...yes, the doctor said 4 to 6 weeks."
"And that's with proper rest and care."
"Yes, Mr. Pine."
"Again, you needn't worry about your job," he reassures. "Workplace injuries are under my purview and I take them quite seriously. Your job will still be waiting for you when you are ready to come back."
Tears trail down your cheeks. "Thank you, Mr. Pine. I promise, I won't let you down."
"I believe in you, Papillon."
"Papillon?"
"Our discussion the other day? Where I recommended you treat items as if they were as fragile as butterfly wings?" You nod. "I should have said to take care of yourself as well. I've seen your bruises and cuts from your klutziness and now this. All because I implied the items were more valuable than your well-being. You are a butterfly, a papillon, in your own right. It is why I'm hopeful you will take the full six weeks to let yourself recover and heal."
"Yes, Mr. Pine," you whisper, wiping away the tears.
The car turns into your driveway and puts the vehicle in park. "But a moment and I'll have your door open for you."
"Oh, no, Mr. Pine, please!" you shake your head, stopping him from unbuckling. He freezes and gives you a confused look. "It's late and Mama's...Mama gets confused easily, especially in the late evenings. She...she doesn't like seeing strange men."
Jonathan's eyes soften and he nods, moving his hands away from his seat belt. "Please do be safe and careful. And do not hesitate to contact me should you need anything."
"Thank you, Mr. Pine."
Jonathan waits until you've entered the small house before driving away.
Mama is sitting in front of the TV, watching the shows she used to watch with Papa. Her symptoms had shown up years ago but got exponentially worse when he passed away.
"Hello, Mama," you call, keeping your tone happy. "Sorry I'm home late. Have you eaten?"
She doesn't respond, just keeps watching her show. Her fingers toying with her necklace are you only real indicator that she's alive.
Taking a careful breath you head into the kitchen only to find it a mess. Again. Mama must have gotten confused again and went looking for some food or drink that wasn't there. Well, the doctor said you had to alternate between rest and moving so at least you've got something to do.
Looking in the freezer you confirm that you've got some food you can easily cook for the two of you. You set the oven to preheat then put some ice cubes into a plastic bag for a makeshift icepack before heading into the living room.
Remembering the doctor's orders to not lay flat, you set yourself up in the recliner. It lets you keep an eye on Mama and you'll be near enough to the kitchen to take care of food and drink as needed. The exhaustion of the day settles in and you quickly drift off to sleep.
The oven's incessant beeping startles you awake and you move in a way that hurts your ribs. Hissing at the pain, you slow your movements and try to remember to take full breaths.
"Did you crash into the table again, dear?" Mama asks. "I should get your Papa to make some bumpers for the corners."
"It wasn't the table, Mama," you tell her, keeping your tone soft. "But I'm sure Papa will get right on it." You never talk to her like Papa has passed. The woman's mind is already going, no need to remind her of her pain.
"Charles," Mama calls out. "Charles, dinner is almost ready."
"I think he's working late, Mama. I bet he'll come home just as we've finished washing the dishes," you chuckle. It was always a joke in the family that Papa somehow knew when the chores were all done.
Mama chuckles softly and you get yourself into the kitchen. You'll do the plotting and planning for the groceries tomorrow. You'll also need how to figure out how to explain your presence to Mama. But first, dinner.
Summary: Jonathan Pine has had a perfect career, except for you, a maid whose klutzy nature makes things more difficult.
A/N: Reader is plus sized and female. No other descriptors used.
Warnings: Injury, Work stress. Please let me know if I missed any!
Part of the Royal Vows AU.
Jonathan had been a butler in the service of King Rogers for almost his entire career. He'd gotten the role after serving alongside Prince Ari during his required military service. He'd impressed the Prince so much that, when Jonathan asked for employment at the palace, it was immediately granted. Since that time, he worked his way up to becoming the greatest butler in multiple kingdoms, if the royal guests were to be believed.
He's appreciated by the royals he serves and even the staff he employs. He's never been too good to roll up his sleeves and help out where needed. He pays attention to the staff and their needs and is often generous with praise. Work at the palace pays very well and Jonathan knows how to motivate employees to do their best.
But right now his face is in his hand as he tries to keep calm about the broken 100 year old vase on his desk. You'd cleaned up the mess but brought him the pieces in the hopes he knew some way it could be repaired. It probably could, but that was beside the point.
"This is the third item this month," he states in a tone that makes your face drop in embarrassment. "At the very least, I can say that's an improvement from the last month. I think keeping you out of the Garden and Ground floors has worked well."
"Thank you, Mr. Pine," you mumble, not trusting yourself to say more.
"What happened this time?"
"I was vacuuming the guest suite, as you ordered. Getting it nice and clean for the Princess of Carga. I...I tripped over the vacuum cord and reached out to catch my fall but...I...I ended up grabbing the cloth the vase was on."
Tears start forming at the corner of your eyes as you recall. You really didn't mean to break anything. You never do. It's been your one saving grace with Mr. Pine. He knows you're not malicious and that you really need the work. Some items can be repaired but always at a cost you can't afford.
He sighs heavily, "are you certain there is no other employment available to you?"
The tears start pouring. "I promise, Mr. Pine, I promise I've looked. But no one else can pay enough for me and my mother unless I spend years either going to school or building a skill with an apprenticeship."
"But that would be years without a steady income," he nods in understanding. "Well, as I said, only three priceless items broken in a month is an improvement." You shrink further into yourself at the reminder of how precious the items you've broken are. "And you are very diligent in your work, not everyone is so dedicated to getting every nook and cranny. So do not worry about your employment at this time."
You let out a sob of relief. "Thank you, Mr. Pine. I promise to keep improving."
He gives a curt nod. "Just please remember to treat every item in the palace as if it were as fragile as a butterfly wing?"
"Oh, that's a good way to think about it, Sir. Each piece is so beautiful but so fragile. I promise I'll get that to work!"
He simply nods again and gestures for you to leave. Thankfully he doesn't comment when you almost trip over your own feet.
It's all hands on deck for the Princess's arrival. Jonathan has been working overtime to make sure the Royal Family doesn't have to worry about any of it. Every member of his staff has their part to play and he's on alert for things going wrong. While it may not be humanly possible to achieve perfection, he will get it as close as he can.
Knowing you don't do well in fast paced, high stress environments Jonathan assigned you to the rooms where the Princess's servants would be staying. You were part of the team helping them settle in and showing them where things are.
The team lead, Arne, was not a fan. He's repeatedly told Mr. Pine that he should fire you and seemed to go out of his way to remind you of everything you've ever broken. When you found out he was leading the team, you gulped and made yourself as small as possible.
When the Princess and her ensemble arrive, Arne directs your team to the servants' entrance where you stand in a line and wait for a box to carry inside.
Your heart drops when Arne hands you one of the bigger boxes with a huff. You almost drop it immediately because of how heavy it is.
"Careful!" he yells as you struggle. "And hurry up. Gotta make sure everyone does their share of the work."
"Yes, Sir," you mumble, finally getting a firm grip on the box.
Trying to hurry without rushing only adds to the difficulty of the task. If you rush, you're more likely to make a mistake but if you're too slow, Arne will yell and make more trouble for Mr. Pine.
You're so focused on your task you forget about the small threshold between the top of the stairs and guest rooms. As you feel yourself start to fall you know you can't drop this box! Not just for the Princess but for Mr. Pine as well! You can't embarrass him!
You're not sure how you manage it but you twist yourself so that the heavy box lands on top of you instead of the other way around. You get the wind knocked out of you but you didn't hear anything break! Well, at least not from the box. You're definitely going to be bruised from this. But you don't let that damper your mood. You saved it!
"Keep it moving!" Arne yells from the bottom of the stairs. "Ain't paying you to rest your fat ass!"
Getting up you try to respond but you breathing is still not easy so you focus on getting the box moved. It's much more of a struggle than before but you're determined.
"Here, let me help," Max, one of your team members steps up. "That had to hurt. Maybe you should sit?"
"No rest!" Arne barks, now at the top of the stairs. "If she can't keep up, she shouldn't be here. Besides, she's got plenty of cushion to pad her fall."
"Sir, it landed on top of her!"
"Well it's about time she learned how to not break anything important."
Trying to ignore the argument you try to get back to work carrying the heavy box. Your lungs are on fire and your vision is getting blurry but you're determined to prove yourself. To not embarrass Mr. Pine. To do your part.
As soon as the box is in place you work your way back down to the truck. Max walks with you, continually asking if you're ok. When Arne tries to give you another of the big, heavy boxes, Max grabs it for you.
"Please, sir, I really think she needs to rest," he implores.
"If she needs a rest after tripping over her own feet, she should be docked her pay!"
"That's not for you to decide," you hear Mr. Pine say. All three of you look to his direction. "Today is supposed to go perfectly but I'm already getting wind of complaints from Her Majesty's staff, concerned about the working conditions of the King's staff."
He pointedly looks at Arne who turns red in the face. "There were concerns about a hurt servant being forced to continue working under threat of losing employment. Which is strange to me because, last I checked, I'm the one who makes those decisions. And I have not threatened anyone. Yet."
"She's not able to carry the damn thing, so why should she be here?"
"Mr. Pine, if I may?" Max approaches. Mr. Pine gives a nod and he continues. "She was given a box that was recommended for two people to carry for safety's sake. She got it up there on her own, after tripping in such a way that the thing landed on her. I think she's earned some rest, if not a visit to the hospital."
Mr. Pine looks to you and finally notices your breathing is off and you look faint. He rushes over to you and starts making mental note of symptoms.
"You will sit," he orders you, walking you over to one of the lawn chairs.
"Please, Mr. Pine," you say between gasps. "I can still work. Don't want to ruin today."
"You have done nothing wrong," he asserts. "If anything--"
