#and then in that same breath boss/employee and anything along those lines

[rosicheeks]

3. What was your high school sex fantasy?

To have sex 😂

[mxtantrights]

the assistant - one

I'm here with another story with the batfam. however none of them are the love interest for the reader. You shall see,,, if you read... hope you enjoy! <3

part two here

It’s 9:03am when you get the email. It’s always 9:03am. Every time.

Mr. Wayne is doing his usual rounds of the office. To those who don’t know him personally, it’s time to be the star-employee. To those who know Bruce, it’s time to socialize about what Gotham’s playboy has been up to since he was last seen. Even though there was probably several magazine covers that could answer that question.

At 9:03am, Roy (security guard extraordinaire) sends you a very formal and very non anxious email to let you know that your big boss is in the building for his monthly rounds. He’s not even nervous, he does it to be funny. It looks something like this every single time:

to : yourname@waynein.co 

oH- your boss’ boss is herE! YOUR BIG BOSS IS HERE! Good mood, smiling, sMOOZING!! 

and you always reply with:  

to : royharper@waynein.co

thanks Roy, lunch later?

Your boss likes to make his rounds with almost everyone. And you work on the same floor as his son, so you see him last. Along with everyone else on your floor. 

At 9:19am Tim Drake comes out of his office and hightails it to yours. Usually he doesn’t wear the dreaded office suit. Usually it’s something bit more comfortable, less showy. But his adoptive father was coming and he always get nervous that something might go wrong.

When he opens your door, after knocking, you see the disheveled hair and the waft of mint gum. To hide his caffeine levels, you assume.

“Tim, nothing has gone wrong in the last twenty four hours. He’s your dad. He just wants to show face and leave.” you say.

He lets out a breath of relief. But like always he needs more. So he sits in the chair across from you and your desk. You take a second to peel your eyes off the computer screen for a moment. Your fingers stay moving, typing out the address to the sandwich shop for later today. 

“Tell me again. Please.” he says as you look at him.

You stop typing. 

“You know that nothing has gone wrong because your a bit of a control freak and you have managed everything down to the last minute detail. You’re doing great.” you say.

He nods, “Thanks again.”

by 9:21am Bruce Wayne is on your floor. And Tim leaves your office to greet him. Your phone rings, like usual. You pick it up knowing exactly who it is.

“How do you manage to call at the right time every time?” you ask.

“I don’t know it’s like I have someone in the building that tell me these things. Huh.” Jason says.

“Okay smart-ass.” you say.

“Anyways, how is work?” 

“Fine. Except your dad is a dilf and a distraction.”

“Please- how many times do I have to-”

“You ask me every time, and yet here we are. Funny how that works.”

There’s some moving in the background and you swear you can hear another voice with him. But you decide not to say anything over the phone. He might be at ‘work’ as you both like to call it.

“ANYWAYS, anything interesting happen today?” he asks.

“Didn’t I- you’re dad’s here. That’s the talk of the building, Jay.” you say.

There's more shuffling on the other end of the line, but he makes a noise that suggests that he did in fact hear you. But he’s obviously busy. You’re about to telling him to just call you back later when he answers.

“How’s Tim-bo doing?” 

“You know he’s spinning out a bit. But I think I calmed him down. Why are you asking for the run down, you know exactly how this goes down every time. It’s kinda weird.” you say.

He laughs, “I just think today might be a bit different.” 

You’re eyes squint at his words.

“Different how Todd?” 

“Oof, last name. I hit a nerve.” 

“Jason.”

“It’s nothing bad. When have I ever steered you wrong-”

“that time-”

“You know what I don’t know why I said that but suddenly I’ve got to go now and you’re breaking up and yeah buhbye-” Jason says.

He ends the call.

You put the phone down on your desk and sit there. What could he have planned? If there was one way to pick his mind it would be to talk to his partner in crime.

You pull up your email on your computer screen.

to : royharper@waynein.co

Jason was being weird on our call. what's about to happen? 

You click send and the whoosh sound fills the room. Instead of trying to get some work done you wait for him to answer. It would be quick anyways. Unless he was actually doing his own-

From: royharper@waynein.co

nothing he’s just trying to put you on edge. about lunch tho can we raincheck??

You’re about to write out a response when you hesitate. You don’t know why but you do. Your fingers hover above the keyboard and you look like an actual idiot. So then you curse yourself and type out a response.

to : royharper@waynein.co

yeah sure. you’re good!! is everything ok?

You truly hope everything is okay. and you also think about how you could text him and it would be quicker and you would actually have the message bubbles to look at instead of just a still screen as he answers.

from : royharper@waynein.co

yea yea. something came up. promise I'll make it up to you.

Now you really are worrying. Roy wasn’t one to overshare but he did share with you. Whether it came to building gossip, whatever the two of you were having for lunch or any very niche thought he had. 

This generalization felt weird. It’s not like you didn’t want him to have his privacy. He’s a grown man and he’s got the things going on in his life. But you guess- you don’t know what you guessed.

to : royharper@waynein.co

okay. if you need help with anything just txt me.

you sigh.

from : royharper@waynein.co

always. thankz.

With that, you exit out of your email and pull up your actual work. This weeks assignment enclosed looking over the small details for an upcoming board meeting. You’re used to it, two years at this company and you know the ins and outs.

It’s about thirty minutes of scanning for discrepancies when there is a knock on your door. You figure it’s Tim, always the polite one to knock before he enters. But the door doesn’t open.

“It’s open!” you shout.

And like some sick twist of fate, Bruce freakin Wayne opens your door. When you called him a diff to Jason you honestly meant it. And that’s why Jason prefers you don’t joke about his dad because he knows there is a part of you, very small but still apparent, that is not joking.

“Hi there.” he says

You shoot out of your chair, practically knocking over your whole desk when you do, “Hi Mr.Wayne.”

“Please, you’ve been here for two years. Call me Bruce.” he says.

You smile. There are so many jokes going through your mind right now. Jokes that would make Jason choke on his own spit. But you don’t say them out loud. It’s his dad. You’re not one of those Gotham piranhas that circle the Wayne family and ogle them.

“How can I help you, sir.” you say.

There was no way in hell you were calling him Bruce.

“I was just making my rounds, as usual, when I realized it’s been a while since we’ve chatted.” he says.

If by a while he means a whole three months then yes, it’s been a while. Three months ago at a Wayne gala that you were invited to by Tim and brought Roy to as your plus one, even though you were a plus one already. The same gala where you looked at Roy for a few moments too long and realized that you wound’t mind being more than friendly with him-

“Yes it has. How is everything?” you ask.

He nods his head, and moves to take a seat in front of you. But you notice that he waits for you to take your seat before he takes his own. Prim and Proper Mr.Wayne.  It makes you want to laugh but you can’t- he’s your boss!

“Everything is going well. How about you? Anything exciting?” he asks.

You chuckle at that a bit, “Sir, I think you get up to more exciting things than me.” 

“I think that’s untrue. My life is very boring, meanwhile you are a young woman. You must get into some trouble from time to time.” he says.

something in you is questioning him. But you’re not a hundred percent sure in your questioning to call out your boss. Yet. 

“Legal trouble or relationship trouble?” 

He laughs, “I hope it’s the later and not the former.”

“Oh well, not as much. Men in Gotham are... I’m sure there’s a word but I’m pretty sure I shouldn't say it to my boss.” you say.

“Oh-so, you aren’t seeing anyone right now?”

There it is.

Your boss was wondering if you were seeing someone. Why would he do that?Why would your boss be wondering who you swapped spit with? A thought flashes through your mind and you shoot it down instantly. It can’t be.

“No sir. It’s been a while.” you say.

He nods his head and you can see him smile a bit. Okay- maybe that thought you just pushed away wasn’t that far fetched.

“I think you’ll find the one. Gotham is many things you know.” he says.

Okay, the dilf jokes were fun to annoy Jason with but this is... is this actually happening to you or did you accidentally ingest some hallucinogens? He stands up, as if to leave and it makes you stand too.

He is halfway over to the door when you get the courage.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you start and he turns back to you, “you can totally fire me if I’m crossing a line but, were you trying to ask me out or something?” 

His eyes go wide like saucers. And then you realize you’ve made a big mistake. He wasn’t. Your boss totally wasn’t trying to ask you out and you just put your foot in your mouth and now you were totally fired right?

“No!” he shouts. Then he seems to realize he shouted. 

He puts his hands up surrender, “Not that- you’re a wonderful girl but that’s not why I was asking about your love life.”

“But you were asking about my love life.” you say.

He winces, “I think I’m gonna leave before I give something away.” 

He waves and scurries off like a child with stolen candy. You are left standing there, confused and cheeks a bit warm.

WHY WAS BRUCE WAYNE ASKING ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE?

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 8

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 8

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language.

Words: ~2000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6   Part 7

Part 8

Billy read through the file on his desk for the third time that day. After the night of the gala he’d hired an investigator to gather info on you, and now all the major events in your life were neatly encompassed in a red folder, ready for his perusal. Despite your refusal to share anything, he’d managed to learn a lot about you reading your file. Except instead of giving him clarity on you, the documents triggered an avalanche of questions and emotions that left him rattled.

You grew up in the projects, in a poor neighbourhood in Chicago, but had managed to wrangle your way into a state university. He knew how expensive those were, and even with the scholarships you’d earned it was almost impossible for someone in your socio-economic background to be able to attend college – but you had, and judging by your relatively low student loans it wasn’t simply due to luck. Billy had learned a long time ago that when opportunities presented themselves, he had to make quick and tough decisions to get ahead. Rawlins had presented such an opportunity, which had given Billy the cashflow he needed to start Anvil. Who was your Rawlins, he wondered.

Throughout college you interned at a moderately-sized company in Chicago and they hired you immediately upon graduation. You never looked back after that, moving from firm to firm while going up the corporate ladder. There were so many things about your life you didn’t share with Billy but you had been honest about one thing – Anvil couldn’t afford you. If he’d hired you, your salary would be on par with his.  

Billy still remembered when he’d signed his first lucrative contract. He’d been eyeing the Wraith for months prior to that, and as soon as he could justify the purchase he did. The penthouse in a luxury high-rise building came next. You, however, were the complete opposite of him. You owned your condo, and while it was nice and in a decent neighbourhood, it certainly wasn’t a luxury purchase. You were careful with your money, except when it came to shoes. Based on your credit card records, you bought a lot but the ridiculously expensive purchases weren’t as numerous. He guessed those were the ones you bought when you were especially troubled, like Davina had said.

Billy had pored over your life starting from where you were now all the way back to your childhood. The first time he read the child abuse investigation report in your file was two days ago, and it had taken him hours to finish because of the sheer rage it provoked in him. It was an incident reported by one of your teachers after you’d shown up to school with bruises and burn marks. Of course the child protective services had done nothing, you’d been returned to your parents. There were no other reports filed after that but abuse that vicious didn’t stop just because the cops came around. Your parents probably just learned not to leave visible bruises.  Billy was all too familiar with that kind of violence and realizing you went through the same made him want to destroy every fucking person in your life that ever hurt you.

“I fought like hell to make something of myself, to be safe and happy.”

Your words still rung in his ears. They had haunted him for a week now. He could still remember the strange look of apathy on your face even though your words were obviously coming from a place of hurt and anger. At the time he didn’t know what you meant, but now he understood and it both sickened and infuriated him that you felt threatened by him. What could he have possibly done to conjure the same fear in you as your goddamn family? How could you compare him to them?

“You will not destroy me.”

Your voice had been steady and calm when you said the words, a complete contrast to the confusion he’d been feeling. Fine, he may not have recognized your worth sooner before but that didn’t mean he wanted to hurt you. Yet you’d accused him of doing just that and it pissed the fuck out of him. Yeah he’d bragged about Anvil to Roger but that was to get you actual protection and keep you safe – something your precious fucking Roger should have done from day one. Corporations didn’t give a fuck about their employees until their bottom lines were threatened and knowing a competitor had access to that kind of info meant bad PR for Valiant. You were smart, you should have realized exactly why Billy had played that card but instead you chose to be willfully blind and accuse him of jeopardizing your job. It made him so angry that it had taken every bit of willpower he had not to shake the stupidity out of you.

The phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts. Upon seeing who it was, he picked it up immediately. “Yeah?”

“Hey, boss. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Looks like she’s lost her tail. Didn’t even take her that long. The guy’s an idiot.”

Frustrated, Billy ran his fingers through his hair. The little talk with Roger had worked and Valiant had assigned a bodyguard to you, but like everything else about the company, the guard was ineffective. Fortunately Billy had already anticipated Valiant’s ineptitude so he’d made arrangements for one of his best trackers to keep an eye on you. “Think she knows about you?”

Andy snorted. “This ain’t my first gig.”

Even though Billy knew Andy was great at what he did - he was one of Anvil’s best - it still didn’t assuage his anxieties about you. “Where is she right now?”

“Driving out of town. I’m on her tail.”

“Headed for?”

“Not sure yet. Connecticut, I think.”

Billy exhaled an agitated sigh. “Okay, let me know if there’s trouble.”

“Will do.”

After hanging up with Andy, he called your number. As expected, it went to your voicemail automatically. Just like it had every time this past week. Obviously you’d blocked him, which irritated the fuck out of him, but he realized it was something you needed to do for yourself. And if you didn’t have some unhinged lunatic after you, Billy would have given you the space you needed - but now was not the time to respect your goddamn boundaries.

“Hey, it’s me. I get it. You’re pissed but we need to talk. Call me.” He paused, breathing. A part of him wanted to add a ‘please’ but he didn’t like the thought of pleading with another person, even you. Because if he begged and you still didn’t call back… he didn’t want to think about what that meant.

Reluctantly, he put your file down and returned to reviewing the contracts in front of him.

***

It was almost two in the morning. He’d gone out for dinner with some potential clients and schmoozed the hell out of them. After a lot of booze and ass-kissing, they finally shook on the deal. All in all, it was a pretty great night except he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Every time his phone rang he hoped it was you; it never was. And now he was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of you like some lovesick fool. It was pathetic. He should have gone home with the waitress that had slipped him her number. She’d been hot, fun, and more than happy to fuck him but some stupid part of him felt guilty – actually guilty even though you’d been ignoring him for a week – of sleeping with someone who wasn’t you. What the hell was wrong with him?

Yeah, sure, he’s been in some relationships before but they never lasted long. When things were bad, they were terribly, horribly bad and the good times just weren’t worth it. And so, in the past few years, he’d decided to keep things casual with everyone until you fucking came along and dropped a bomb and now he was right back in the middle of a hurricane. Fuck you. Fuck You. Fuck you for making him feel like this. For making him feel desperate and clingy and pathetic. For making him worry about you. For making him care.

He grabbed his phone and called you. There was your fucking voicemail greeting again and the dreaded beep.

“I make you feel worthless?” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. “What the fuck did I do to make you feel that way? Tell me. Because you actually haven’t given me any reasons. You just spouted some bullshit about having feelings for me before you walked away. Now you’ve blocked my number and I’m sitting here trying to figure out what the fuck I did wrong.” He scooted off the bed and began pacing the floor. “Eleven fucking months we’ve been sleeping together and you tell me nothing about yourself. Nothing. You were a glorified sex doll. A fucking fleshlight who spoke and only told me things I wanted to hear. Yes, Billy. No, Billy. Fuck me, Billy. You kept everything bottled up! Not once did we have a real conversation. And then all of a sudden you come alive and I find out there’s more to you and I want to get to know you better but then you tell me you have feelings for me, that you might actually love me and instead of giving me a chance to process any of this shit you dump my ass and block me? Fuck you, Y/N!”  

He hung up the phone, feeling much better, but within seconds that feeling of euphoric release turned to anxiety. What if you misinterpreted what he meant? What if something he said inadvertently hurt you again? This time when he called you, his voice was calmer.

“This isn’t me, Y/N. I’m not the guy who calls a woman over and over again, especially when she wants nothing to do with me. But you’re in my head. You’re everywhere I look. I don’t want to think about you, I don’t want to give a fuck about you, but I do…” He took a deep breath. “You said you might love me but I think you’re full of shit. Because when you care about someone, you don’t leave them behind. Shutting someone out, abandoning them, that’s not love. That’s being a fucking coward.”

After putting his phone back on the nightstand table, he lay back in bed with his arm propped up behind his head. He pondered the message he left, realizing the truth. As hard as he’d fought it, as much as he didn’t want to, he had fallen for you. You. Not the woman he’d been fucking for eleven months who didn’t have any personality but the real you, the woman who challenged him, who made him laugh, who was brilliant and incredibly smart and so fucking beautiful he’d get a hard-on practically every time he looked at you. There was so much about you he didn’t know, but he wanted to spend the rest of his life discovering you, fucking you, making you his.

He didn’t believe in destiny or any of that romantic nonsense. The universe had fucked him over too many times for him to accept sentimental bullshit like that. But what he did believe in was himself. Everything he had he fought for and he destroyed anyone who got in his way. Something told him you were the same as him. You two were connected.

He reached for his phone again and dialed your number. His voice was strong, calm, and resolute as he left you a final message.

“I like you. I want you. I’m not walking away.”

He hung up, smirking.

Part 9

A/N - I’m back from lovely St Maarten, all tanned and relaxed :) I hope you guys had a wonderful week, and that you enjoyed this new chapter. I know it wasn’t plot-heavy, just thought-heavy but that was on purpose. I really wanted a chapter just for Billy to process his feelings about “You”. Hope the lack of plot wasn’t a disappointment. As always, thank you for the lovely feedback on the last chapter.  I’m sorry I didn’t respond in a timely manner while I was away!  Please know that I truly appreciate the likes, the reblogs, the wonderful feedback and the asks you guys left me.

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[nationalharryleague]

Portfolio

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: AU, Angst, Boss!Harry

Word count: 3.5k!

Warnings: Domestic violence mention, boss/employee dynamic

A/N: Hi! I decided to write another fic after Overnight was received so well! Again, thank you to anyone who read and enjoyed it! I’m not sure how I feel about this one lol but I think it’s good enough to post. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and send feedback! Thank you for reading!!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist! 

Part 2

You had always been a teacher’s pet. Growing up, you were the kid who worked hard to get a 4.0 GPA just for the rush of getting a compliment on your intelligence from your teacher. You craved that validation for all the hard work you put in and you just wanted people you admired to like you. And not for nothing, you deserved the compliments. At work, you were the first one there and the last one to leave. You loved your job and it showed.

You were currently working your first job with any real power at an up and coming public relations firm, Styles Public Relations. SPR was quickly growing in size and recognition and being brought onto the team was a dream come true. You loved everything about working there. The offices were beautiful, it paid well, and your ideas and proposals were finally being heard and brought to the public. Well, you loved everything except one glaring, irritating, and gorgeous problem: your boss.

Harry Styles was a striking man. He was tall, impeccably dressed, and obscenely attractive. His skin was perfectly tan and when it got warm in the office you could see  beautiful tattoos revealed by his rolled up sleeves. Those sleeves were worth more than your life and his head-to-toe Gucci ensembles usually showed his wealth off well. He looked like he should be on the front of a magazine, not behind a desk. Well, he was on the cover of Forbes that one time. While he was so nice to look at, the man was anything but nice. He had an abrasive attitude and not much care for pleasantries or mincing words.

Today, you found yourself on the opposite end of his brutal disposition. You had brought a campaign proposal to him for a newly acquired client and he began to rip it to shreds.

“I don’t know why you thought this campaign was a good idea, Y/N,” he told you sternly. “It’s childish, silly, and unprofessional.” Every word he said dug into you. You tried to attribute his harshness to it being Monday, but you knew he would say this to you any day of the week.

“The client said they wanted something more playful to soften their image,” you defended yourself. “I was doing what they asked for.”

“Well, you did a terrible job at it.”

That stung. You had dedicated your life for weeks to this proposal and had expected him to love it. You hoped this was finally the proposal that would secure your position in his good graces. Apparently, not.

“Okay. I’ll restart the project with a different angle.” You moved forward to grab the binder off the conference room table and flee the room back to the safety of your office. You were shocked when he put his own hands on the binder and slid it away from you.

“You’re off the account. I’ll have someone else do a better job,” he spat. Now, that really hurt. Your ego was closely related to your career and you knew you deserved better than this. You did everything you could to hold back your tears, but one betrayed you and fell down your cheek. You believed you saw his hard exterior soften for a split second before his ruthless demeanor returned.

“Fine,” you breathed, never breaking eye contact with the cruel man. “I’ll leave you now, your highness.” The words left your lips before you could fully register them in your own head. You turned on your heel and rushed back to your office, thinking about the insubordination complaint coming your way.

“Did I just get myself fired?” you asked yourself softly when you were finally in the safety of your own office.

The rest of your week passed in a blur. By Friday, you had accepted your fate and decided to get every passive aggressive dig at your boss you could before you carried your things out in a cardboard box. When you saw him around the office, you made sure to make direct eye contact and shoot daggers his way and you responded to his emails with one word answers. You were also producing the best work you had in years. Turns out, spite was a fantastic motivator for you. If he was going to fire you, he would feel bad about it.

As usual, you spent your Friday night typing away in your office. You were a workaholic and had no problem with staying at work late. Unfortunately, so was your new nemesis.

You caught your first glimpse of him after-hours on a trip to the copier. Your next was on your trek to the coffee pot. Later, on a walk around the office to stretch your legs. Each time you saw him, he was in the same spot. He sat at the conference table surrounded by spreadsheets and graphics and stared perplexed at the piles of paper encompassing him. You knew you could go in and ask him if he needed help, but you wanted to watch him suffer. According to him, you would just do a terrible job anyway.

It was about 7 o’clock when you heard a firm knock on your office door. You expected it to be the cleaning crew asking to vacuum your office. With a ‘come in’ your door opened and your boss’ large body leaned up against the door frame, careful not to enter the office he knew he wasn’t welcome in. While you were shocked he was coming to talk to you, you stayed quiet. If he wanted to talk to you, he would have to break the silence. After a few awkward moments, he did.

“Um, I was thinking about ordering dinner if you wanted to join me.” This was by far the nicest thing he had ever said to you other than ‘you’re hired.’

“Well, what are you getting?”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want for dinner if you take a look at the investor relations portfolio I’m working on.” You were taken aback. He was asking for your help. He needs me, you thought as you smirked to yourself.

“Make it the Italian place down the street and we have a deal,” you countered. You didn’t want to spend anytime with him at all but you were taking this as a sign that  1) he wasn’t firing you, and 2) he thought you did good work. Also, their spaghetti bolognese was calling your name.

Soon you were both knee deep in documents and investor information packets. You absolutely could not believe it but the two of you were collaborating well and making real progress on the portfolio. This was the working relationship you always wanted to have with your big shot boss; the opposite of his constant criticism and belittling of your work.

When the food arrived, you both decided to take a break and eat like an entire company’s stock shares weren’t resting on your shoulders. While your conversation stayed surrounding work, it inevitably steered towards the account he had taken away from you.

“So, how’s my campaign doing?” you asked. You knew it was a risky question but you two had been getting along and you decided you needed an update on the account that had become your baby.

“I gave it to Marcus and-”

“Marcus? Really?” You interrupted  him. “Marcus is a shithead.” Your baby deserved better than Marcus.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said in a joking manner, with a small smile. The smile was just big enough for you to notice that he had dimples. He had never smiled in front of you before. “He’s doing a horrendous job and I was going to give it back to you on Monday.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the second chance,” you confessed. “Can you level with me for a minute?” you asked after a moment of silence. “Why did you rip into me like that? You could have just told me that it wasn’t right for me and taken it away.”

You watched him think for a moment. He scratched at his five o’clock shadow (that was more like a 9 o’clock shadow now) and you could tell he was searching for the right words.

“Because it got you fired up, but I could tell I hurt your feelings and I apologize.” You never expected an apology for the way he acted and you no longer regretted showing him your emotions. He had hurt you and he should feel bad for it. “I thought you were getting complacent in your ideas and you’ve been killing it since Monday.”

“Thank you for the apology. Here I am thinking you did it just to be a dick.”

“Is that what people in the office really think of me?” He looked genuinely hurt and you felt slightly guilty for being the bearer of bad news. But you hoped if he saw it from his fearful employees’ perspective he would lighten up a little.

“Do you want me to be honest?” He nodded his head. “You act like you have a stick so far up your ass it’s touching your brain and that you’re better than everyone else because your suit costs more than my rent.” If he never minced his words, why should you?

“Oh Y/N, tell me what you really think,” he said after a pause with a light chuckle. You were surprised by his reaction. You never expected him to take something like that so well.

“Listen,” you began again. “I understand and respect your toughness on us. But there is a line between criticism and just being mean.” You decided this was a time to call him on his shit, during this very very rare moment of comradery between you. You wanted to have a healthy relationship with him, maybe even a friendship.

“I understand that I can get a bit harsh. It’s just the whole ‘is it better to be loved or feared’ thing. I’ve always thought fear would be the safer option.” You felt like you were getting to pull back the layers of his hard shell and see the human being underneath for a brief period of time.

“But if you were truly loved, no one would ever betray you,” you whispered softly, always the romantic.

“Love has never been reliable, has it?” Your heart broke for him and you realized someone doesn’t become as hardened as he is overnight. Something did this to him.

“What about love being the most powerful force on earth?” you wiggled your eyebrows at him, referring to the slogan for an engagement ring campaign you were both working on.

“Well, when your wife tries to steal the company that you built together and run away to Spain with her personal trainer, love gets a little bit more complicated.” There it is, you thought to yourself. This was the first time he ever felt like a real person to you; not like a teflon shell of anger, wealth, and ambition. His features looked softer and he seemed less like your evil boss, and more like someone dealing with a painful trauma.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” you said softly, genuinely meaning it. “Oh shit, sorry. Mr. Styles,” you corrected yourself. He laughed at your mistake and you watched his dimples reach their full potential. He looked down at the table, obviously a little uncomfortable with his rare moment of vulnerability with the woman who was probably the biggest pain in his ass in the office. Before you knew it, you had decided to share your own uncomfortable vulnerability.

“My ex put me in the hospital while I was still living in New York,” you began, watching his eyes immediately jump to yours and listen intently.

“Oh Y/N, you don’t have to talk about this… I didn’t mean-,” he tried to stop you but you figured if he shared with you, you could share with him.

“No, it’s okay. It’s been a long time,” you reassured him, shaking your head softly. “We were fighting because I found out he had been cheating on me. I had packed a bag and was trying to leave when he pushed me down the stairs of our apartment building. I broke my arm in two places and I had to have a few surgeries.” You rolled up the sleeve of your blouse and showed him the scar that ran down your forearm. You scanned his face and it looked like he genuinely cared about you for a moment. You brushed it off. “After that, I decided I needed to leave New York.”

“Why London?” he said gently.

“I was obsessed with this English boy band when I was growing up,” you laughed. “I guess I romanticised London in my head and decided it might be a good place for a fresh start.”

“While I’m incredibly sorry you had to go through all of that to get to London, I’m very glad that you found your way to me,” he spoke tenderly. His face was serious, but not the seriousness you were used to while getting scolded about your work. It was gentle and like he meant every word he said. You were happy you found your way to this version of him too.

“To the firm, I mean,” he corrected himself and you felt a weird pang of sadness inside of you. You are just his employee, remember that, you thought to yourself.

“I’m happy I found the firm too. If only I could figure out how to deal with my hellish boss?” you asked sarcastically, rolling your eyes dramatically and laughing at him. You realized that this could definitely be taken as flirting, but you decided were okay with that.

“Maybe they’re just trying to push you because you are by far the best campaign director they have,” he said nonchalantly, leaning back in his seat and watching your every movement. You felt your cheeks heat and the rush of adrenaline from finally getting his validation. This was all you ever wanted from him.

“Oh, I know,” you smirked, leaning back in your own chair and studying him as well.

He really was gorgeous. His quaffed hair had fallen over the course of the day and a few stray pieces hung on his forehead. His black dress shirt fit him so well. You were fully able to appreciate the tailored fit after he had shrugged off his blazer and removed his tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons to reveal glimpses of two swallows that sat on his collarbones. A chain that you had never gotten to see hung around his neck, a cross and the Star of David resting on his chest.

“We should get back to work,” he murmured after a few extended moments of staring at each other.

“Probably.”

You two worked for another hour or so before you let out a small yawn and Harry insisted you both call it a night. Although you protested and told him you were fine, he was firm in his demand that you go home and rest. As you packed up your things in your office, he hovered in the room and watched your every move. Conversation was relaxed and casual, not stained with the malice you usually had towards each other.

He took your briefcase from your hands, offering to help as you struggled to carry a poster and a few proposal binders, and carried it as you walked in step with each other out of the office. When you reached the front doors and went to go your separate ways, you were met with a puzzled look on his face.

“Where are you going? The parking garage is this way?”

“Oh, I don’t have a car. I take the tube wherever I have to go.”

“Let me drive you home,” he offered. When you denied his proposal, you were met with a stern, “Let me drive you home or you’re fired.”

Although you fought him the entire walk to his car, asserting that you were fine to take the train, you climbed into his beautiful jet black sports car with a huff and a pout. He had a triumphant smirk on his face that you were tempted to slap off, but decided to take this as a sign from the universe that you just weren’t meant to get blisters from your heels walking home tonight. You watched as his long fingers gripped the steering wheel skillfully and you both sat peacefully, the silence between you only interrupted when you gave him occasional directions to turn right or left. The soft sounds of a Fleetwood Mac song you couldn’t remember the name to flowed through the speakers and his mouth silently lip-synced the words. You admired him the whole drive home and you didn’t want to get out of the car when he pulled up to your building.

You both departed the car, walking around to the trunk where he had stashed your briefcase. Your casual conversations had long passed, both of you beginning to mourn the night you had together. You had enjoyed this night far more than you anticipated and you hoped this would be the first of many late nights at the office that he would join you for. You looked up at him when he handed you your briefcase and you both stood there in silence for just a few more fleeting seconds, neither of you wanting to be alone yet. You were first to break the noiseless night.

“Thank you for dinner and the ride home, Mr. Styles.”

“Please call me Harry,” he said with a subtle smile, stepping up on to the curb, closing much of the space between you.

“I can do that, Harry.” His first name felt foreign on your lips but it was a welcome change.

“Thank you for all your help tonight. I needed your fresh set of eyes on that portfolio.” This interaction felt so intimate; his words hushed and complimentary, intensified by his body’s proximity to yours.

“Whenever you need me,” you breathed, refusing to break the eye contact you were both desperately holding on to.

With one swift step he pressed your bodies and your lips together, backing you up until your body pressed against his car. You dropped your briefcase to the ground and your hands flew up to the base of his neck. He tasted like the lemon cookie he had ordered for dessert and you smelled his intoxicating cologne as you drank each other in. His hands snaked their way under your blazer and rested on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His kiss was deep and demanding and you weren’t sure if you ever wanted it to end.

This morning you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him and mere hours later you were ready to bring him up into your own. He was infuriating and rude and knew just how to push your buttons. But, he also seemed to be gentle, kind, and thoughtful when he wanted to be. Harry Styles was an enigma. You couldn’t wrap your head around him and it drew you to him even more.

Your bodies flowed in perfect sync with one another and your open-mouthed and hungry kisses were so hypnotizing you couldn’t think. Harry was the only person that existed to you anymore, tuning out the murmurs of a passersby, and anywhere your skin touched his was lit on fire.

Finally coming up for air, you breathlessly peeled your lips away from the other. You both refused to break your eye contact, your hands gripping tight to his biceps to steady your weak legs, and scanned each other’s faces.

“You have a little something,” he murmured, reaching to wipe your smudged red lipstick from your bottom lip with his thumb. You leaned into his touch and smiled up at him.

“So do you,” you panted, staring at his lips that were now stained red.

You both just stood there for a little while, soaking up the other’s company before you pulled away and things got more complicated. He was your boss after all, was this even allowed? Did he want to be something more than coworkers? If things ended poorly, would you still be able to work together? Would he be nicer to you now?

“It’s late. You should get some sleep,” he eventually broke the silence and your spiraling thoughts.

“I agree. You worked me real hard today,” you smirked at him, unable to pass up the innuendo. An amused grin spread across his lips and he took a step back from you, releasing you from his grip against the car. He gathered your things you had dropped on the ground during his assault and handed them back to you.

Harry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek that lingered a little too long to be considered friendly. It made your cheeks burn.

“I’ll see you Monday, sweetheart” was the last thing he said to you before he climbed back into his car and drove off into the night.

Part 2

[x-ladyathena-x]

Who We Were

(also on my AO3 & Wattpad under the name: Grey_Eyed_Athena)

Warnings: Smut, like dirty smut. Don’t read if you’re under 18. Angst, some fluff, enemies to lovers

Bucky x Reader

Word count: 2460

Summary: (one shot) You're an employee at Captain America's family fishing business. When a handsome stranger with a metal arm appears out of the blue, tensions rise.

You were a mutant working for Captain America’s family fishing business. It was a slow day today in the marina store, you hadn’t had a customer in hours. So, you sat with your feet propped up on the counter, reading from an old magazine with crinkled pages.

“Ahem,” a deep voice cleared their throat to get your attention.

You peered over the top of your magazine slightly annoyed.

“I’m looking for Sam Wilson.”

The man was tall, with short dark hair, and tragedy etched into every line of his beautiful face. The type of look people get when they’ve seen horrible things that they’ll never truly be free of.

He looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place him until you noticed his arm. At first, you thought it was a dark compression sleeve, but now you realized that this was the Winter Soldier you were talking to.

You called Sam on the phone, “Hey, Boss, there’s an Avenger here to see you.”

Sam groaned on the other end of the phone, “Which one?”

You didn’t know if it would be rude to call the man in front of you Winter Soldier to his face. That was the name Hydra gave him.

“The quiet one with the metal arm.”

Sam groaned again, “Bring him down.”

You hung up the phone and turned back to the man, “Follow me.”

The two of you walked past the register and into the back hallway. At the end of the hall, you both squeezed into a small service elevator that led to the lower levels. Sam liked to keep his office out of plain sight.

Inside the elevator, the two of you were nearly touching shoulders. It was a little awkward, so you decided to make small talk.

“How did you lose your arm?”

In truth, you didn’t know. You knew exactly who this man was but nothing much about him. You knew he’d renounced Hydra, joined the Avengers and fought Thanos. Everything that could be read in the media.

You, yourself, were one of the lucky?—or unlucky few who were not snapped and left to wander the earth in confusion and fear.

He ignored your question.

The elevator dinged open and the two of you stepped out.

“It’s pretty, your arm. The black and gold.”

He didn’t say anything, just glanced at you.

“What brings you here Mr. Barnes?”

“Bucky,” he corrected you.

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry. That’s what Captain America called you, right? That’s what Steve Rod—”

He slammed you up against the wall, holding you by the neck with his metal arm, “Do not ever mention that name to me.”

At first, you were scared, shocked even, but then you got mad. You slipped your foot behind his heel and knock him off balance. He wasn’t expecting it.

He fell flat on his back and you crouched over him with a fist full of his shirt, and got down in his face, nose to nose, “You ever do that again and we’re gonna have a problem, okay?”

He nodded with resignation.

You patted him roughly on the cheek, “Good, now come on,” You got up off him and began walking away, “The boss’s office is right up here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The woman was strong, he’d give her that. He supposed that he should feel bad that he grabbed her like that, but when she said Steve’s name, he just—he couldn’t think about him right now. Thinking about his old friend made him go to a dark place. He couldn’t blame Steve for what he did, where he went. After an entire lifetime of being the most selfless, self-sacrificing human alive, he deserved to make a selfish decision for himself. It still hurt though. The only person that ever loved him for who he was—was gone. And hearing his best friend’s name come out of the mouth of someone like her? Well, what did she know? She didn’t deserve to speak his name.

She showed him Sam’s office and turned to leave without another word. Bucky watched her walk away as he stood at Sam’s office door. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but admire her (your body type) body as she walked away.

“You’re drooling, Buck.”

Bucky snapped out of his daze to see Sam Wilson smirking at him from inside the office. His red, white, and blue vibranium shield displayed proudly on the wall.

“Good to see you, Cap,” Bucky smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat back in your chair up front. It was a quiet day, the off season. Not many people coming in to buy bait and tackle. As you tried to go back to reading your magazine, your fingers trailed over the place on your neck the Winter Soldier’s fingers had wrapped around.

You say Winter Soldier, because the eyes that were looking back at you as he had you pinned against the wall were not those of Bucky Barnes.

A shiver ran over you and you couldn’t help but press your legs together.

You thought about the cold metal. The whirring noise the plates made as they locked into place. The scent coming off him—he smelled like a cold winter’s night. Like pine and wood smoke.

You shook your head. Get a grip y/n. You still stood by what you told him down there. If he got aggressive with you again, the two of you would have a problem.

Maybe you wanted a problem.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, what brings you here, Buck?” Sam asked the man seated across from him.

“Mutants,” Bucky said gravely, “Hydra sleeper cells that still believe in the cause, lying in wait. I was just in Prague last week and got attacked by two of them. At first, I thought super soldiers, but no, they had abilities.”

Sam sighed, “Well, you’re not gonna like what I’m about to tell you, then.”

Sam launched into the story of how he was in Europe a month ago, helping investigate odd claims. That’s when he learned of the mutants. While there were many that operated as Bucky described, the majority were refugees, seeking asylum from those that would use them for their powers. Not unlike their friend Wanda and what Hydra did to her.

“That’s when I met y/n.” Sam said.

Bucky’s blood ran cold at the thought of the woman upstairs, “How do you know she’s not a sleeper?”

“Because I trust her,” Sam told him, “There’s still good in people in the world, Buck. Even if you don’t see it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were dreaming tonight. Dreaming of the man with the metal arm. The Winter Soldier. Bucky. Dreaming of the way he smelled. Dreaming of his weight on top of you—wait.

You awoke with a jolt to find Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier pinning you down into your mattress with a knife against your throat.

In your panic, you moved with strength not previously explored. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling the knife away from your neck. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you used the leverage to flip him over.

He was a large man. Burly and heavily muscled with broad shoulders, thick arms, and even thicker thighs. But your mutant strength, along with your adrenaline-fueled panic allowed you to flip him with ease.

You now sat atop him, straddling his waist. The knife in your hand, holding it to his throat.

He looked shocked. There was also something else in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. Not the Winter Soldier, but a darkness that didn’t pass unnoticed by you.

He licked his lips, “Well, now that you have me where you want me, what will you do?”

You pressed the knife harder into his throat, “Why are you in my room?”

“Trying to kill you, I thought that was obvious,” He said with a husky deepness in his voice.

You scoffed, “Good job,” and shifted your weight. You couldn’t help but feel the stiffness in his pants pressing through your thin pajamas.

He knew you felt him because he added, “I may not be able to control how my body reacts to you, but that doesn’t change anything.”

Taking advantage of your distraction and with lightning speed, he flipped the two of you back over again.

“I’m still going to kill you,” he whispered in your ear, “I recognized you the moment I saw you today.”

Your body stiffened. No. That was a long time ago. You weren’t that person anymore, and neither was he.

You’d worked with the Winter Soldier years ago, once on a mission when you both worked for Hydra. He was brainwashed into doing what he did and you supposed you were too. Hydra convinced you that you were doing the right thing. And you thought you were, until you weren’t.

Years of trying to escape until you ran into Captain America. Sam Wilson was the only person to help you, to believe you. He’d helped so much. He got you out of there, helped you start a new life.

You may have changed, but you could see that your chemistry with the Soldat hadn’t. On the mission you worked together, all those years ago, you ended up snowed into the safe house until the next morning. The memory of tangled limbs, sweating bodies, nips, kisses, and screams of ecstasy made you shiver.

You were surprised that the man on top of you even remembered you. Hydra wiped his mind so many times.

“So, you do remember me,” You quipped, at the mercy of his knife’s razor edge.

“Doll, I remember everything,” He growled.

You ground your hips against him, “Even this?”

His eyes fluttered shut as he released a shaky breath, “Yes, especially that.”

His body stilled; he was hesitating. He swallowed hard and threw the knife with all his strength. It plunged to the hilt into the opposite wall with a solid thud.

You lunged for each other at the same time. His lips crashed into yours like a starving man and you fed him graciously.

Your fingers tangled in his short hair as he threaded his metal arm under your body to pull you closer.

He ground into you; his erection painfully obvious now. He pulled away from you for just a moment. Just long enough to help you remove your pajamas and allow you to help him remove his clothing.

Bucky trailed a finger over the front of your black lace thong, down the front and to the strip between your legs. You gasped at the feather light sensations.

Bucky bit his lip, “You’re so fucking wet, Doll.”

In one motion, he tore the panties from your body and dove down between your legs.

You gasped at his sudden movement and rested both legs on his shoulders and tangled your hand in his dark hair as you lost yourself in the sensation.

He ate greedily. You could feel every soft lick, suckle, and kiss. Every second brought you closer to the edge. You were about to—

“Bucky!” You screamed, riding out the wave of pleasure washing over you like a warm breeze.

As soon as you came down from your high, you saw him sitting up, licking his lips.

“I missed your sweet taste, Doll.”

Your breath caught under his hungry gaze. Your eyes trailed down until they landed on him. Every inch of him. You reached out and began to pump.

He closed his eyes and his breath shuddered, “Get on your belly for me.”

You obliged his request with enthusiasm. Opening your legs and lifting your butt ever so slightly into the air. You looked over your shoulder at him as you felt him against your soaking wet core. He crawled on top of you and kissed your shoulder.

“Ready?” He asked tentatively.

You grabbed his thigh with the hand you weren’t using to prop yourself up and shoved him inside you.

The two of you gasped.

His pumps went from slow and sensual, to needy and fast. He snapped into you with a desire that made your second orgasm crash over you before you knew it was upon you.

The feel of your orgasm fluttering around him spurred him on harder. He wrapped his metal arm under your chest and rested the hand lightly on your neck and he pulled your body in closer to his, his face buried in the crook of your neck and the flesh arm wrapped tightly around your waist like he was fearful you’d disappear.

He fucked you like his life depended on it. With desperation and need. And you melted into him as if he were the only thing that was real in this world.

You could feel his thrusts getting shorter, he was about to come. And so were you. Your third orgasm is what pushed him over the edge. You both cried out in unison as you felt him empty inside you.

He continued pumping until you rode out your orgasm. He stayed inside you as he trailed kisses over your shoulder and down your back, catching his breath.

You felt him twitch inside you and he began pumping again. You moaned and cried out nonsensical words as he thrust into you again. Lost in the depths of your own pleasure and the way he made you feel, you didn’t even realize he was coming again until his body collapsed onto yours.

You rolled over to face him, and the sight broke your heart. His face looked sad and worn. Tired.

He buried his face in your chest and you held him, stroking your fingers though his soft hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time until he leaned up and kissed you.

“I’m sorry,” He said.

“I’m sorry too. I’m not that person anymore,” You said to him.

He pressed his forehead to yours, “I guess neither of us are.”

You let your fingers trail through his soft curls, “What made you drop the knife?”

Bucky sighed, “Like I said, I recognized you immediately. Sam said I could trust you, but I was still skeptical. Then when I came in here, the Soldat recognized you and I couldn’t..”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“He’s me, and I’m him. I can control him, he doesn’t take control of my body anymore, but I can still feel his influence. He recognized you, and once he did, I couldn’t control my reaction—didn’t want to, because I also remembered.”

He stopped and swallowed hard and you felt him stiffen again against your leg.

“Bucky,” You laughed and kissed him, “You’re gonna be the end of me.”

Super soldiers…

He laughed too as he went in for another kiss, rolling on top of you, “Doll, you have no idea.”

[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 2

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: None, just more fuel to the fire. Fluff!!

A/N: Honestly this was fun to write, stay on the look out for chapter 2.5 -winks-

“Neville?!”

(Y/n) walked around the boy, taking in his appearance. She almost couldn't believe it was him. The lanky, tall, awkward boy she spent her days pining over had truly blossomed and from the looks of it, turned into a flower truly worth attention. Part of her almost didn't believe it was him but the cadence of his voice combined with the soft look in his eyes was more than enough confirmation. She'd recognize them anywhere.

The boy nodded, a small smile gracing his face as he held his arms open, inviting him into the warmth of his embrace. She accepted it gladly, sighing as she relaxed into them, squeaking a bit as she felt her feet leave the ground. Relaxing a bit, the girl closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around him tighter. 'Just like I remember..'

"Pardon?" He asked, causing her to tense as he sat her down. Had she said that out loud? If she had she certainly hadn't intended on doing so.

"N-nothing!" She started as she made her way back behind the counter, using her distance to admire his appearance. Twyla nudged her, still eyeing up the dangerous looking men.

"Geez (Y/n), and here I was thinking you were a complete prude. Who would've thought that you knew such hot guys!" She said, biting her lip as she eyed up the red head. The shorter girl crushed her foot, glaring up at her employee. She yelped but quieted up, staring down at her boss

"To be fair, I haven't seen any of them in 3 years. And plus, none of them looked like this during our years at Hogwarts." Her eyes drifted to the rings on Neville's thick tattooed hands. "I apologize for it taking me so long to recognize you, Nev. I hope I didn't make things too awkward."

"You're quite alright, petal. I'm not the same man I was when you went to school with me." He sighed, looking out the window into the distance as he adjusted his tie. "I've changed quite a bit."

(Y/n) could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn't just referring to his new (but most certainly not unwelcomed) appearance, but he had been through some things as well. As much as she wanted to ask him about the things he had seen and the things he had done, she knew now wasn't the time. Neville had always been private about how he felt, that was another thing that clearly hadn't faded. She reached across the counter, placing her hand on top of his as she offered him a smile.

"So, how's life been treating ya? From the looks of it, I'd assume good?" She asked, watching as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. He went to speak but Twyla cut him off.

"Yeah, you look like you've got money! How'd you get so rich?" She leaned forward, eyes squint as she eyed them all. "What're you like loan sharks or something?"

"Something of the sorts." The redhead responded, nodding as he spoke. However (Y/n) was in shambles, she gaped at her friend, giving her a pissed look.

"Twyla you can't just go around asking people if they're rich!" She hissed out, going to tell her off but stopped as she felt a hand on top of hers. Neville chuckled some, patting her hand a few times.

"It's fine, 's only natural to be curious. And to answer your question…" he trailed off as if he was looking for an answer. "We work a less...desirable form of work. Lots of things people normally wouldn't wanna do."

"Yeah lots of paperwork. You wouldn't wanna hear about it, trust me." The freckled brunette finally spoke up. He held his hand out for the (h/c) haired girl to shake which she shook. "Seamus Finnigan."

"Oh! Your Nev's best friend, yeah? I remember during one of our herbology classes we had to leave because you blew something up." She began to giggle at the memory, trying to stifle some brasher laughter. "I don't know how you manage to do that with a plant. I'm (Y/n)." Seamus stepped back, clearing his throat as his face tinted a dark rouge.

"Oh trust me, we know. The bos- Neville would never shut up about you. Sometimes he still doesn't, going on about how he wonders what you're up to. Maybe running into you like this will shut him up a bit." The ginger spoke up, offering her a nod of acknowledgement. "Ron Weasley."

"Well it's clear who the lover boy here is swooning for but what about you two? Are you single?" Twyla asked, stepping from around the corner. The three of them began to converse, leaving the two former acquaintances to be amongst themselves.

"I'm sorry about her. She's got no filter on her mouth." She said, laughing to clear the stiffness to clear the air. He joined her, his familiar dopey smile on his face.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it, really." He sighed, looking around the bakery. "You got a job in a bakery like you always wanted! I'm happy for you, truly." She could feel the sincerity in each of his words. During her time at Hogwarts, Neville had been kind enough to be the one to sample her baking all the time while encouraging her to follow her dreams. Having him in her bakery was enough to make her heart burst.

The girl felt her face heat up as she shrugged, smiling at him sheepishly. "Actually, I don't just work here, I uh," she looked back at him as he had his focus on her, engaged as every, "I own it."

His eyes widened as he gasped, a mix of happiness and shock on his face. "Really? That's even better!" Neville's eyes wandered along the different treats and such in the display table, looking at them in awe at the variety of things. Each item was different than the other and yet they all worked together. "I see you're still as creative with your flavors. You are a true artist, (Y/n)."

"I-I wouldn't go that far. I'm just doing what I love and I couldn't be happier." She squeezed the man's hand, trying to ignore the burning in her cheeks and ears. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you. Whenever my parents would send me those awful howlers, you'd be right there to lift me back up."

He felt his eyes gloss over but blinked back his tears, clearing his throat as he unwillingly ripped his gaze from hers. "Wait- are those the chocolates? The ones with the brownie pieces in them?! I've been thinking about these for ages!" He exclaimed. If it weren't for the fact she was still nervous, she would've found humor in the giant, tattoo covered man freaking out about her coco brownie chocolates. 

"I remember you used to give them to me every valentine's day. We'd take them up to the astronomy tower and share them together." He sighed dreamily at the memory. "You were such a good friend for that!"

Right. Friends, that's what they were if you could even call them that. They rarely hung out with each other outside of school except for Valentine's day. She had originally gifted him the chocolates as a way to show how she felt about him but for some reason or another, he didn't realize the meaning behind them. She didn't correct him either. The way she saw it was any time she got with Neville was good time to her and that's all that mattered.

"Yeah...did you want me to pack some up for you?" She asked, reaching back for an empty box before leaning down, filling the box with the rest of the chocolates. "Here. My treat."

“Are you sure? I couldn’t possibly just take these from you! You’ve got a business to run here.” He responded, pushing the box back towards her. However, she pushed them right back, shaking her head.

“I’m positive! Think of it as an IOU for all those late night cram sessions during 7th year.” she wasn’t really giving them to him for that reason. Saying that though was just easier than saying ‘Hey take these, I’ve been in love with you for 5 years.’ and to be fair, she wasn’t in the mood for rejection. (Y/n) found herself being disappointed that even after all these years, she was conveying the way she felt for him through sweets. Anytime she went to say how she felt it was quickly just replaced with some excuse along the lines of ‘needing him to sample something’ when in reality, she knew her baking was good. But, there was just something so fulfilling from the way he’s eyes would light up whenever she’d give it to him, leaving the heart felt note in her pocket. 

“Thank you.” he smiled, taking them in his hands, acutely aware of the way her fingers were on his. He felt his face flush as he looked up at her, finding her eyes were already on his. “Listen (Y/n), I was wondering if you’d like to-” his words were cut short by the sound of a phone ringing. Shortly after Ron came up, whispering something in his ear which caused his soft expression to turn into stone. He gave him a nod, taking the box and ending the contact. “I’ve gotta get going. Duty calls! I’ll see you again soon, yeah?” he muttered something under his breath smiling at her before turning around and leaving the bakery. 

“Soo, what’s going on between you and the tall one?” Twyla questioned, sneaking another cookie from the display counter (which didn’t go unnoticed). (Y/n grabbed it from her hands, putting it back in the glass case as she rolled her eyes.

“First of all, you work at this bakery, not eat here. And second, nothing!” the blue haired girl gave her a look that screamed ‘bullshit’ which she simply chose to ignore. “He’s an old friend of mine and…”

“Andd?” she urged, using her hands to motion for her to continue. (Y/n) huffed, crossing her arms across her chest as she looked to the side.

“And my old crush. But I promise the only feelings we ever had in common were platonic ones!” she leaned over the counter, watching as his figure disappeared into the distance. A wave of regret fell over her wishing she had done something, anything to be able to see him again. She knew the reason he probably didn’t ask for her number was due to the fact that during her time at Hogwarts, she didn’t use a smart phone. It was something she had gotten into as of recent. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have asked for his.

“That looked like a lot more than platonic to me.” the green eyed girl sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her chest as she spun around. “Love is in the air with you two! I can feel it, you know I’ve got a 6th sense for these sorta- woah! Look at the tip he fucking put in the jar!” she exclaimed, reaching her hand into the jar.

 (Y/n) gasped, eyes widening as she looked at the three hundred dollar bills in the girls hand. ‘I kinda wish I had just let him pay..’ she thought to herself. She grabbed the bills, holding them up in the light to check the authenticity. She knew Neville would never give her fake money but it was almost hard to believe that he had given it to her without hesitancy. When had he even done that?

“I told you they have money! I mean, did you see the ring he had on? The big skull one with the sapphire eyes?” she asked, watching as her boss shook her head. “There’s only 3 of those in the world! It’s a hefty price for one of them. They must be really good at what they do!”

“Since when do you know about fashion?” (Y/n) asked, causing Twyla to let out a dramatic gasp. 

“I’ll have you know I went to one of the most elite fashion schools in the wizarding world thank you very much!” (Y/n) eyed her suspiciously causing her to let out a sigh. “Okay I give up, I just shagged a guy who did. However I did steal his books!”

“Whatever.” she giggled out, walking over to hand a menu to a regular that walked in. She knew he didn’t need it but it was still common courtesy. “I just wonder what he was going to say before he left…”

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

As the sun began to set, (Y/n) flipped the sign to closed, closing the blinds. Although Wednesdays were their slow days, that didn’t mean they still didn’t get customers. There was also an unexpected lunch rush due to a conference being held in the hotel a few blocks over. Walking over to a cushion, she sat down relaxing into the softness of the chair. Her eyes shot open at the sound of the backroom door slamming open.

“You wanted excitement didn’t you?” her worker asked, causing her to nod cautiously. “Well get ready. We’ve got plans this weekend! Hope you’re ready for a much needed shopping trip.”

PREVIOUS||NEXT

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @beewitchedlou @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

[petersasteria]

The Package - Harry Holland

Harry || Main || Taglist

Requested? Nah 1,583 words Heavily inspired by Key and Peele.

* * * *

Harry was in his office bored out of his mind. He was sipping around in his office chair while throwing his stress ball up in the air and catching it repeatedly. The young CEO hated his job despite the multiple and grand benefits that came along with the job. He hated that his brothers Tom and Sam were allowed to decline the offer when their father asked them if they could take over the family business. Tom declined it because he wanted to focus more on the carpentry side of the business. Sam declined because it wasn’t his passion; he wanted to be a chef. But Harry was never asked about what he wanted. His father told him that he’s the heir of the company. With that being said, Harry hated it and he resented his brothers and father for it.

He loved them dearly, though. He knew that no one else would take over and Paddy was far too young to be a CEO. Harry just unwillingly took his fate as his father retired. Now that he’s seated on ‘the throne’, as everyone in the office called it, he felt powerful but at the same time he felt judged by the people who work for him because they were all older than him and most of them saw him and his brothers grow up. It was awkward.

Harry stopped spinning around his chair and heavily sighed before grabbing his phone to play games on it. There was nothing better to do and it was a slow day. All the shipments were done yesterday, all the forms were signed before lunch, no meetings until next month, and no new applicants to take up the job of being his assistant. His last assistant, Margaret, was his dad’s assistant. Harry loved Margaret like a family member, but she was too old, so he allowed her to retire.

The game on his phone started to become boring and with a sigh, he exited the game and went on Facebook to see anything new about the people he went to school with. He loved, for lack of better term, tea. He loved spilling tea and he loved being told tea. He and Sam bonded over it.

Just as Harry was reading a post about his former schoolmate being involved in a scandal with one of his former teachers, his office telephone rang. Without an assistant, Harry was forced to answer calls without knowing who it was on lines 1, 2, and 3.

“Hello, this is Harry Holland of Holland Industries. Who am I speaking to?” Harry asked. At this point, it was engraved in his mind now. He knew what to say and what not to say.

“Hi, Harry! This is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m calling from Master Travel Incorporated to tell you about an exciting limited-time offer, exclusive getaway to the Philippines. Can I have a few moments of your time to tell you about this new package?” Your tone of voice matched the exciting offer you asked, but it wasn’t enough to entice Harry. He didn’t even know where that pine place was.

“You know, Y/N, I would love to, but I just don’t have the time-”

Upon hearing that, you immediately hung up the phone. Harry stopped talking and looked at the phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“Huh, rude.” Harry muttered under his breath as he put the phone in its place. He grabbed his phone and continued reading about his schoolmate, but he couldn’t shake off the rude thing you just did. He sighed to himself and grabbed the phone, somehow directing the call to you, and waited for you to pick up.

Your telephone rang and you answered on the first ring, “This is Y/N Y/L/N, Master Travel Incorporated. How may I be of service?”

“Hi, Y/N Y/L/N. My name is Harry. I think we just spoke not too long ago.” Harry said as he fiddled with a pen that was on his desk. “Did we just get disconnected?”

“Um, yeah. I hung up on you.” You said blatantly.

Harry raised his eyebrows upon hearing your answer and asked, “Why? Like, why would you do that? Are you allowed to do that? Because that was rude, Y/N. I’ll tell you that.”

You sat back in your chair and twirled the cord of your headset around your finger with a smug look on your face. “Were you going to buy the Philippines package?”

“What? No! Don’t be daft. That’s not the point I was trying to make. What I’m saying is-”

You hung up on him again and Harry’s jaw dropped. He has never encountered someone so rude such as yourself. “What the fuck.” Harry said before calling you again.

“This is Y/N-”

“Yeah, Y/L/N. Listen. I don’t know why you’re being rude to me, but you don’t get to hang up-” Harry gasped as soon as you hung up again. “Oh my fucking god!” Harry shouted in annoyance. He knew it wasn’t worth it, but he was never disrespected like that in his life. So, he called again.

You answered the call immediately, “What the fuck do you want?”

“What’s your deal, huh?” Harry asked as his eyebrows knit in confusion and slight anger.

“Um, you don’t want the Philippines package,” You started. “So I don’t want to talk. I did us a favor instead of wasting our time.” You were about to end the call and somehow, Harry sensed that.

“Stop, stop! Don’t you dare end this call!” Harry raised his voice, not noticing the attention he drew to himself. Everyone looked at his office and as if it wasn’t enough, Tom and Sam went to visit him just to see how he was doing.

“What’s going on?” Tom asked Edith, the accountant,

“Harry is throwing a fit.” Edith answered before returning to do her job. Edith was a 50 year old woman and she’s so over the stage of being the one to calm a kid down when throwing a fit. Those years were behind her and she didn’t want to calm Harry down. If Harry wanted to throw a fit, she doesn’t care. She just wanted to get paid and get through the day like everyone else.

“He’s… too old for that.” Sam chuckled as he and Tom walked closer to his twin’s office.

Harry never noticed them standing by the doorframe, though.

“Why shouldn’t I?” You asked him.

“Why shouldn’t you?!” Harry shrieked. “What if I wanted the Philippines package?! You know what? I want the Philippines package!”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he looked at Sam and Sam just shrugged. He didn’t know what was happening either.

There was silence between your line and Harry’s. After a few seconds, you broke the silence and said, “Sure, you do.” You hung up the phone once more before Harry could say anything else. This made Harry scream and throw the pen in frustration.

He stood up from his seat and yelled at the telephone, “You motherfucking bitch! I will give you a piece of my mind and you will feel my wrath!”

Neither Sam nor Tom wanted to stop. They wanted to see how it would go down.

Harry called again and this time, he put you on speaker. The phone rang and you answered on the first ring, “Come on, man. Let it go.”

“Fuck you! I WANT SIX FUCKING PACKAGES RIGHT NOW!! You know what- where’s my wallet?” Harry walked around the room to find his wallet as you sat back with a victorious smile on your face.

Harry found his wallet and pulled out his credit card. He quickly walked to where the telephone was and said, “I found my fucking credit card! Now put the details there, Y/L/N! My credit card number is 1185-6514-1109. The fucking expiration date is 12-22! And then the security number is 195! Run the fucking card right fucking now! Run it now, asshole!”

You held back your laughter as you punched in his details and when you were done, you simply said, “Thank you for your business.”

Harry took a deep breath and said, “I hope you learned your le-”

You hung up once more and that made Harry scream in anger. Sam walked further into the room and tapped Harry’s shoulder. Harry turned around and saw Sam, “Mate, stop it! Just stop calling or you’ll get even more pissed!”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He took a few calming breaths before looking up at Sam and finally noticing Tom who gave Harry a small wave which Harry returned.

“What was that, H?” Tom asked softly as he walked further into the office.

Harry looked at his brothers and calmly said, “Pack your things. We’re going to the Philippines for a family vacation. I just bought six packages for it.”

Bonus +

Your boss, Colin, went to your desk with a huge grin on his face. “Y/N, I don’t know how you do it, but you’ve made a ton of sales recently! I’m really proud of you for coming this far! Because of that-”

Colin turned to everyone and shouted, “Y/N is employee of the month! Let’s all leave an hour early and celebrate! It’s on me!”

Everyone cheered and congratulated you. Colin went back to his office and you smirked before calling your new ‘victim’.

* * * *

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @thatforgottenangel @turtoix @givebuckyhisplumsnow @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @euphorichxlland @thevelvetseries @buckymylove @more-like-reyna

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow @bi-lmg

[sweet-sammy-kisses]

Make my Heart a Better Place

Written for @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt victim blaming Fandom: 9-1-1 Pairing: Eddie x Buck Rating: M Warnings: past rape, deal with the therapist, anti Ana, tackling the belief that men can’t be victims and protective Eddie and Fire Fam Word Count: 2,964 Summary: Eddie learns about the therapist and what she did to Buck as Buck finally opens up about what has happened to him. Eddie realizes who his heart longs for as he helps Buck confront and deal with his past. You can read it on AO3

It was the kind of story that would never be first picked. It would be shuffled around until it was placed at the bottom left to be forgotten. After all, men can't be raped. Men can't be victims of abuse. Men are supposed to be stronger than a woman. So there was no way a woman could rape or abuse a man.

Taylor Kelly knew different.

Taylor had seen firsthand how horrible women can treat men. How they can use "they'll never believe you" and "what kind of man can't protect himself or his kids from his wife?" Toxic way of thinking. Women were barely believed when they came forward men were even less so.

But Taylor refused to let this story fall through the cracks. A woman, a woman therapist had used her position of power to sexually assault her male clients, men in valuable places, who were seeking help instead had new trauma to deal with. No Taylor would do everything in her power to expose this woman and see that those she hurt stories got told and hopefully gave them some closure.

+******+

"Men can't be raped."

Buck froze at Ana's comment and he wasn't the only one so did Taylor who had been talking about the story she was working on, a story she was very passionate about. The only reason Taylor was there was because Buck couldn't stand being the third wheel on the outing with Eddie and Ana. It originally was just supposed to be him and Eddie but then Ana invited herself along and Taylor being the good friend she is agreed to come as well.

Buck couldn't look at Eddie he was afraid of what he might see. He knew that Eddie didn't agree with Ana, they had seen too much in their line of work to know that stigma wasn't true but Eddie was a different man when around Ana, he went out his way to agree with her, to make her happy. Buck didn't know if it would be Eddie answering or Ana Edmundo.

"Edmundo?" Ana's voice broke through the haze that Eddie had found himself in since Ana uttered those words. "Don't you agree with me?" She continued looking at him expectedly to agree with her.

Eddie knew he didn't, he didn't agree with her and he was coming to see that there were a lot of things that he didn't agree with her. He certainly didn't agree with her comments about Christopher needing limits and her slight hints that he needed to start setting limits for his son. He was tired of being her Edmundo. "Ana I do believe that men can be victims of rape and abuse from women. But because of the stigma around such crimes, how people look at men and see that they can't be abused or rape it is harder for them to come forward for they know that there is a smaller chance of them being not only believed but mocked and made fun of for allowing themselves to be victims in the first place."

Buck felt the heaviness in his chest unravel as his Eddie spoke up, disagreeing with Ana's belief.

"Very well said, Eddie. I'm impressed." Taylor teased trying to ease the tension in the room even though she wanted nothing more than to rip into Ana for her misogyny beliefs.

A scoff escaped Ana, she couldn't believe that Edmundo would think that way. Men couldn't be victims it just didn't happen.

"You have a very narrow-minded way of thinking." Buck's voice was soft as he began to speak.

"Excuse me?" Ana's eyes narrowed as she took in Buck's form, she hadn't gotten off to a very good start with the other man. She disliked how deeply woven he was in Edmundo and Christopher's lives, he was in her place and she needed to claim her spot. To make Buck see that she was the one meant to be in the co-parent spot with Edmundo after all she would someday be Christopher's stepmother and it was time Buck stepped back and allowed her to take her rightful spot in the Diaz's lives. It was when Edmundo told her that it was going to be just him and Buck tonight she had invited herself along, she wasn't blind she saw the way that her boyfriend looked at his best friend and he never looked at her that way. She wasn't about to let a prize like Edmundo Diaz slip through her fingers.

Buck looked a little uncomfortable at Ana's glare and he was starting to regret ever speaking up when he felt Eddie's hand settle on his thigh, squeezing it in support and lingering there. Looking up he saw Taylor flashing him a supportive smile.

Taking a deep breath Buck began again, "Eddie is right. Men can be victims. A woman in power can and have taken advantage of men in vulnerable positions. They can feel helpless after it has happened and it can haunt them long after the event. And your way of thinking is why men won't come forward because they are a man and they can't be raped. Women aren't innocent they can use their positions to get what they want. A woman boss could take advantage of her male employee make it clear to him that he has much more to lose than she does if he doesn't agree to her demands. A therapist could seduce one or more of her male patients into having sex with her, she could have sought them out and studied their online profiles and knew things about them before their first appointment and when they were at a vulnerable point in their life when they had come to them for help instead of offering them anything that they might need they decide to have sex with them instead. To force them to have sex with them, they might have not said no but they certainly didn't say yes. Then they feel guilty and so dirty afterwards that they don't tell anyone because they don't think anyone even those closest to them will believe them. They hide what they went through and the shame haunts them, lingering in their nightmares."

Something about the way Buck spoke and since he knew Buck so well and could read him Eddie knew at that moment his Buck had gone through something like this. He wasn't just speaking what he believed he was speaking from experience and it felt like a dagger had pierced through his heart that someone, anyone, could dare to hurt Buck like that. Buck who is pure sunshine was the last person who should have been put through that.

Taylor felt a wave of rage and sadness washing over her as she realized that Buck, Buck who had been the first person to give her a second chance was a victim. 'No, he is a survivor.' Had been hurt like that. She could see that Eddie had come to the same realization as she had and she almost snorted Eddie was already protective over Buck he was about to reach a whole new level. And whatever relationship Ana had hoped to have with Eddie was now nothing more than a pipe dream.

'This also just might be the push these two stubborn idiots need to finally see what is before them. I wonder if there is still time for me to get in on the bet?' Taylor wondered she also couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for the rest of the 118 to catch onto what had happened to Buck and part of Taylor hoped she was there for when Athena Grant - adopted mom to Buck - got her hands on the woman who had raped Buck.

Ana didn't look impressed or moved by Buck's passionate speech, "If a man can't fight off a woman or protect himself then he has no one to blame but himself." There was a challenge in her eyes as she looked at Buck, "Those kinds of men are weak and no doubt exhausting to be around."

"Your exhausting."

Eddie's words shouted at him in rage and hurt still carried the sting they did that faithful day and the room seemed to cave in around Buck. "I'm sorry, I need to go." Shoving back his chair Buck was on his feet and moving towards the door before Eddie and Taylor could even realize what was happening.

Smiling smugly to herself Ana took another sip of her drink as Eddie and Taylor returned to the table. She would make sure that Eddie saw that Buck was a bad influence in Christopher's life and it was best they cut him out of both their lives. 'After all, they have me now, why would they need Buck?'

+******+

"No. I don't want this." Phantom touches that Buck didn't want to follow him. He tried to run away from them but they wouldn't let him go. Lips on his skin burned like acid. Hands and fingers run across his skin left a trail of disgust. Buck wanted nothing more than to shove her off but he couldn't. He had never felt so helpless, so powerless. Not even when he had been pinned under the fire truck.

"No!" A scream tore itself free from Buck as he shot up in bed, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. He struggled to catch his breath as clawed at his skin, trying desperately to remove the feel of her off of him.

A chocked sob escaped Buck. He hated this, he hated this so much between the nightmares of being pinned under the truck, the tsunami and now he was tormented with images of that woman touching him. He couldn't understand it, he had wanted it. Hadn't he?

+*****+

Something was off with Buck. The man looked haunted and Eddie knew that he had been tormented by nightmares and it tore at his heart he wanted nothing more than to gather the man up into his arms and let him know that it would be alright. He wanted to kiss him and hold him in his arms and promise him that he is safe and sound and no one will ever hurt him again.

But he couldn't because Buck wasn't his and he had a girlfriend whose opinions had been the cause of him reliving a horrible event in his life. 'I need to talk with Ana. She isn't the woman I thought she is and I don't want her around Chris or Buck.' Eddie knew that he was going to have to break up with her. He had done some serious thinking and he realized that the only reason he was even dating Ana was that she was the perfect woman to bring home to meet his parents but she was the wrong kind of woman to be in his life or even think about raising Christopher with. 'Not that would happen, we have Buck.'

"Why does Buck look like someone kicked a puppy in front of him? And whose ass do I have to kick for making him look that way?" Hen asked as she arrived, her arms crossed over her chest and a deadly look in her eyes.

A frustrated sigh escaped Eddie's lips as he ran his hands through his hair, "Ana joined Buck and mine boy's night and said some things that opened my eyes to see what kind of woman she is behind those pretty smiles. It affected Buck."

Hen's eyes narrowed, "Just what did she say?" Hen hadn't been impressed with Ana and not just because she was coming between her two stubborn boys. There were her comments about what Christopher should and shouldn't be allowed to do, how she refuses to respect Eddie and call him by the name he prefers and not Edmundo. There was also jealousy that appeared in her eyes when she saw the family that Eddie, Buck and Christopher made.

"She said that men can't be raped or abuse victims," Eddie admitted.

Hen knew that her jaw had dropped in shock, "That is complete bullshit." They had seen it in their jobs. "Please tell me she didn't victim blame?"

Eddie's sad eyes were all the answers she needed. "We should let Athena talk to her," Hen muttered if anyone had a chance to make Ana see sense that men can be victims it is Athena Grant.

"Ahh, that might not be the best idea." Eddie glanced around happy to see that Buck was still beside Bobby, their captain had taken one look at Buck and called him into the kitchen to help him make breakfast for the crew. Part of Eddie wanted to get Hen's advice, to tell her his fears about Buck but he didn't want to betray Buck's confidence like that and it wasn't like he had proof but he knew deep in his heart that Buck had been a victim of rape and it still haunted him to this day.

"Eddie, are you alright? I know you like Ana and this can't be easy for you." Hen placed a comforting hand on Eddie's arms.

A sad laugh escaped Eddie, "I'm not sure. Ana is complicated, she is what my parents would see as the perfect wife for me and mother for Christopher that is part of the reason that I am trying so hard to make it work with her. But she isn't perfect, it is her little comments about what Chris should and shouldn't be allowed to do and I see how her trying to set limits for him is hurting my son. Then there is her attitude towards Buck, she just doesn't seem to like him."

Hen could only stare at Eddie, "She doesn't like him? Buck? Our sweet puppy Buck?" That was something she couldn't grasp. That didn't sound well for Eddie and Ana's relationship working out not with how important Buck is to both the Diaz boys.

"And there is something else. The way Buck reacted to Ana's statement. She hurt him with her words, it was like she knew how to hurt him and made sure every word hit their mark." Eddie admitted.

Biting her lower lip Hen studied Buck who had Bobby smiling at him like he normally does when the younger man has done something he finds cute. "Yeah, okay introducing Ana to mam bear Athena is out." Hen knew that Eddie had figured something out about Buck but she wasn't going to push him for answers it was up to Buck and Buck alone to decide if he wants to open up to them about what is haunting him. "I can't tell you what to do Eddie about Ana all I can say is follow your heart."

"Carla said almost the same thing," Eddie mumbled out.

Hen grinned, "Well she and I are both wise women, you should listen to us more."

Eddie found himself returning the smile as his gaze was once again drawn to Buck when he let out a loud laugh and his heart felt lighter at the sound and the room seemed brighter at the sight of Buck's smile. "I really should."

+*****+

Buck could feel Eddie's eyes on him all day, which wasn't something new but he could tell that he had figured out why he had reacted that way the other night. Feeling himself nervous Buck approached his best friend, the man he is in love with, playing with the string on his bag. "Can I talk to you?"

Picking up his bag Eddie studied Buck, "Of course you can always talk to me. Chris is with Abuela tonight so despite not seeing your favourite Diaz we can talk at my place."

"I'd rather Christopher not be around for this conversation, it is not for the ears of children," Buck explained.

"You can talk to me about anything Buck, you know that," Eddie promised.

A soft smile appeared on Buck's face, "I know that. You always have my back Eds."

+******+

Arriving at Eddie's place it didn't take long for Eddie and Buck to make themselves comfortable on the couch, their legs pressed against one another and a bottle of beer in their hands. Once again Buck was amazed at how at home he felt in the Diaz's home, it was his safe place.

"Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere." Eddie promised Buck as he rested his free hand on Buck's knee and left it there.

Licking his dry lips it took several moments before Buck could find the strength to speak. "The first therapist I saw, the one that worked for the department I had sex with her. I didn't say no but I didn't say yes. And even though it was years ago I still have nightmares about her, about how dirty she made me feel. How no matter how many hot showers I took I could never get clean." Turning to Eddie Buck could feel his eyes filling with tears, "I didn't want to sleep with her Eddie. I didn't."

Strong arms wrapped around Buck pulling him back against Eddie's chest where he drank in the scent of sand wood and musk, the scent that is purely Eddie.

"That woman took advantage of you, Buck. You did nothing wrong, that woman was in a position of power and she should have never used it to do that to you." Eddie never hated anyone as much as he did the woman who did this to Buck. Tightening his grip on Buck he pressed a kiss on Buck's curls and kept whispering words of comfort as Buck clung to him and cried for what had been done to him, knowing that he was safe in Eddie's arms.

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

@purplesangel​, @kokokatsworld​, +anons

Decided to do a Turtle of Choice x Fem!Reader thing, since I got that “wanna fuck you against the window” thing for ALL OF THE BOYS. Gonna write it as an AU where the turtle of your choice is the boss/CEO of a prestigious and fancy-pantsy place you work at. So, myeah, nice turts in suits 😏👌 (also mutants are a known thing in that AU)

13: Look what you do to me 26: I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it 57: We’re in public you know 59: Are you sure? Once I start I don’t think I’m able to stop 64: I love the way you look with my fingers inside you 75: If you interrupt me one more time— so help me god 107: Guess I’ll have to cum inside you then

You had started that assistant job out of pure luck after finding an add for it online. That Hamato company had a good reputation regarding advancements of any kinds; techonogical, financial, you name it. The four turtles who oversaw it were seen as the undeclared rulers of Manhattan, their power and influence overseeing many spheres of New York’s scene. They equally shared the role of CEO amongst them, being brothers and their trust infallible. You had been teamed up with one of them, the three others already with an assistant of their own. And you instantly bonded with your boss. He had that charm and appeal that could only bring you closer to him. His reptilian features sure enhanced his beauty, as well as his power - both physical and financial - only enticed you more.

As the days passed, soon they became weeks, and before you knew it it had already been a couple of months since you were working for him. By that time, you two had that inseparable bond that you had to keep secret when at work, for the sole sake of professionalism. But you sure both had that little game going on that had you on edge at times. It would mostly lead to incredible sex when back at his place, but sometimes the tension rose so much at work, you were both tempted to just hide in a broom closet and go at it...

That one time, you had decided to wear that new business suit which its pencil skirt hugged your bottom half so well. You felt powerful, incredibly beautiful and in control. It’s when you were at that top of the world in your esteem that you truly realized that your mutant boss was truly in the palm of your hand - devoted and enamored to you. From the very start of the day you could feel his gaze following you whenever you’d pass in front of his office door, and you frankly wanted to push it further. After collecting some paperwork meant for him, you made a beeline to his office and gently knocked at the doorframe. You knew he was aware of your presence, but you so definitely wanted to play the game...

“Yes?” he said, his eyes slowly going over you.

“I have some documents that are in need of your signature.... But if you’re too busy, I can come by later. I’ll make sure you’ll get a reminder as I’ll walk across this entry many times.”

He leaned back in his chair a little, some amusement showing on his features.

“I don’t think you’d be able to keep walking around all day with those heels and that nice skirt of yours.”

“Are you sure? Once I start, I don’t think I’m able to stop.”

He gulped. You being so assertive all of sudden just made the gears turn so perfectly...

“Alright. Come in. Close the door,” he said, gesturing you to come forward. “I’ll sign those damn paperwork so I can spare you walking a hundred miles in a thight skirt.”

After closing the door, you placed the pile on his desk, sitting across him - only the furniture separating you both. He took out a pen, shuffling through some pages.

“Okay then where do I si-”

“Pages fourteen, twenty-six, forty, and fifty-two,” you cut.

He paused, only his gaze moving up to you with a small frown. Your smirk brought a small sigh out of him, then proceeding to turn to the first page mentionned. After a quick glance at it, he was starting to grow annoyed.

“Oh I hate it when there’s a billion lines. Which one do I-”

You had already sprung to your feet, coming next to him - real close - and pointing to a couple of lines.

“Here, here, annnnd here.”

At your last ‘here’, you had next moved your hand to gently trail along his forearm, your nails softly going against his scales.

“If you interrupt me one more time- so help me god,” he then said.

“I’m just trying to help, sir,” you added, feigning innocence, your hand still on him.

Good lord, he could smell you and it was amazing. He turned his chair to face you, now making you stand in-between his opened legs.

“Help me? Look what you do to me,” his hand slightly motioned downward.

You noticed the starting buldge in his pants, now feeling pleased.

“We’re in public, you know?” he added.

“The door is closed, sir. Unless someone really wants to bother you, this doesn’t count as public...”

It’s as if you had said the exact magic words he needed to hear. One hand at the small of your back, he brought you closer and you were both instantly locked in a kiss. A part of him wanted to throw everything on his desk off to the ground, but he knew in the end that’d he regret trying to put everything back in order (especially the damn paperwork...). Instead his hands started to venture on your form, a part of his touch getting lower and lower to your core.

“That skirt looks good on you,” he purred inbetween kisses.”But I do wonder how it’d look if I lift it up a little...”

As it was thight around your form, that was no easy task, but the mutant let it seem like it was no big deal as he got to the deed.

“Wanna interrupt me again?” he said. “Wanna tell me what to do next?”

“Will I lose my job if I do so?” you answered with a smirk.

“I’ll give you a promotion,” he smiled too.

You stopped talking, prefering to guide him with actions instead. Moving his hand, you drove him to your underwear only so he could start to tease you. He caught on your need, following suit on his own.  Both your neediness kept translating through your kisses and touches, every steps in your actions gradually - yet rapidly - evolving to a state that had the two of you repeating the same thought over and over again: I need you right now. He slid his hand into your underwear, aiming for your core. His caress was languid and it just felt so right when he slipped a finger in. You were breathing roughly against his scales, your hands taking support against the upper ridge of his shell. You noticed his renewed smile as he gazed down at this initial connection.

“I love the way you look with my finger inside you...”

“Don’t you want more? I want more,” you mewled, your hips instinctively following his rhythm in small circle motions.

He looked back up to you, his lips aiming for one side of your throath and eagerly traveling to your jaw and cheek.

“More... I do,” he murmured against your skin. “I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.”

That took you slightly by surprise, although your quick fear died as you remembered that the windows of this building were tinted on the outside - making it impossible for any crowd to see anything. But perhaps he simply wanted to leave a trace of yourself on his side, a phantom trophy for anyone to see, if they had a keen eye. You gasped as he grabbed you easily by your waist, lifting you only to place you against a nearby window. Your arms were quick to wrap around his neck, kissing him again and again as you could feel him struggle a little to set himself free.

“You better not leave any marks on my new suit,” you warned, breathing hard from all that action rushing through your veins.

He smiled, amused and delighted: “Guess I’ll have to cum inside you then.”

A loud gasp left you as you felt his cock enter. His churr invaded your ears as he started with a slow pace, nuzzling you. His large hands were holding you up from the bottom of your ass to a part behind your thighs; perfectly in control. You weighed nothing to this mutant, and that was an incredible turn on... As the seconds passed, the need only grew stronger and stronger. Your skin ached to be mostly covered in clothing, but the spontaneity of it all threw your desire through the roof. You could feel your lover going deeper and stronger, the growl in his throath entertwined with his panting, only for you to hear. Your nails were starting to scrape his scales, unable to contain your excitement - unless you’d allow yourself to scream and moan, which was not particularly ideal.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.... and you’re all mine...,” you heard him say.

“Oh, sir,” you mewled, playful and wanting more.

The warmth of him, mixed with the window’s cold, could only bring you on such a high. You almost forgot how to breathe as you could feel him nibble at your skin and your core rubbing oh so great against him.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna- ... Fuck! I’m gonna-”

You had a hard time speaking, everything a blur.

“Do it, love, I wanna feel you tight around my dick.”

That request had you cumming in no time, the turtle slightly slowing his pace only so he could savor each squeeze of your walls around him. But as soon as you began to calm down, he regained his vigor, already so close.

“Cum with me again, I know you can,” he asked lovingly, followed by kisses.

Without hesitation you brought a hand to your clitoris, rubbing to match his pace. As his name escaped your lips over and over again in silent pleas, you felt your second rush wave in, this time accompanied by the familiar sensation of his release. Both your arms were now again resting around his neck, humming in delight as you kept smiling and nuzzling his cheek.

“... I promote you to employee of the month. Goddamn, even employee of the year,” softly laughed the terrapin.

“If that title comes with benefits such as this, I’ll gladly accept,” you added.

As he removed himself and put you back to the ground, you wobbled slightly as you brought your panties back up, then lowering your skirt to its rightful position. .... Walking in high heels today would prove to be quite the challenge. “You good?” quietly asked the mutant, leaving a hand to your elbow in order to sustain you a little.

“Never been better,” you smirked.

As you took some time to properly arrange your hair, the other proceeded to sign the papers still on his desk, after making sure that his attire was rightfully in place. Once everything was done, you crossed eachother’s gaze and couldn’t help the quiet laughter and snickers from leaving you both, knowing you had lost enough time as it is. Opening the door, the terrapin was also at the frame, handing you the documents.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, miss. You are most certainly a valuable asset in this company as your efficacity brings projects to a fast and most optimal motion.”

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, taking the papers and then professionally shaking his hand. “I only aim to bring the best of me in this workplace.”

“And that is always appreciated.”

You could only strut back to your desk afterward, definitely floating high on a cloud.

[em0avacado]

The Beehive bookstore - Angel Reyes x OC (part one)

A/N : Hey! I know I kinda dipped for a little bit but, the holidays were jam packed and I hope you all had a good one. I’m gonna try to make a little series, I don’t have the whole thing planned out yet but I wanted to get to writing and posting anyways. So. here we are. Side note. Thank you for all the positivity i’ve gotten from y’all, your’re all fuckin’ great.

word count : 2.1K

trigger warnings : gun violence, mentions of blood, cursing? i think that’s it tho.

tag list :

@mayans-sauce

“What do you think of cocaine?” the question ran ridiculously loud in Eldrids ears, one that raised both concern and curiosity. Shutting the book with nimble fingers trailing over the inked pages, she furrowed together her dark brows as her gaze shifted to one of the other employees at the book store she managed.

It was a cute little shop, shelves lined every wall, even made little path ways between genres, easily explorable. A quaint shop tucked away in the nooks and crannies of Santo Padre. Easily accessible, if you knew where to look. An empty cart that was usually used to haul the new arrivals into place, but all that was done. There had been one customer in the last few hours, so it was really only Eldrid and one other employee, Asher. There wasn’t anything to do, so her nose was buried deep in another world.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, her brows furrowed so deep it left faint marks in her forehead. Pushing her glasses up further the bridge of her nose, she set her book down in front of her, on the smoothly finished wooden counter where the cash register sat on.

Ashers eyes blew wide, scrambling quickly and putting his hands out in front of him. “woah, I meant - not like. I’m not asking if you want any or know where to get any.” he said, defensively. His hands kept up in the same stance. “I just meant that, well, what if our shop is a front for something... bigger?” he suggested, raising both brows. Eldrid shook her head at that, Asher always had some sort of conspiracy theory going, always believed aliens would take over one day, perhaps robots, thinks the world is gonna end up like some sort of real life version of the movie ‘Wall-E’. Some of the things this kid would come up wiyh were very out of the ordinary. He hadn’t been working at the shop for too long, a few months tops, he had gotten into college during those months but kept up his work there. A lot of the time he was able to study during his shift, and was paid the hours he was there. A sweet kid, looked rougher around the edges than he really was.

“I think that maybe you should get back to your studies.” she said with a soft laugh, watching as Asher, once again, protested, but shook his head instead. He set his notebook down.

“No, no. Listen, Eldrid. Look at it this way, in the nineteen eighties, about. The Orejuela brothers would run legitimate businesses, small, unexpected ones, as a front and to launder money they made while they ran drugs for the big bucks” he rambled on, earning another shake of the head from his manager. “c’mon you’ve never heard of the Cali Cartel? You have to have heard of them. The biggest, and one of the longest running cartels in the history of cartels!” he spoke with passion, an undeniable one, and he looked at her with his big green eyes, his hands out stretched.

Eldrid was about to respond, of course she knew what he was talking about, but she was interrupted, by him, and further utters of conspiracy. “How do you think we’re still paid, very well, hourly and over time, we get bonuses all the time, and there’s hardly anyone ever in here!”

She snapped her wandering gaze over at Asher again, having drifted to surveillance the shop shortly when the front door jingle, signalling someone entering. “not another word about it, Asher. Study.” she demanded, before turning her attention away from a quietly muttering punk at one of her tables.

“Good evening Mr. Reyes.” she hummed a soft greeting, seeing the grey haired man walk into the shop, followed by his youngest son, the only, of which, she’d met. Despite him only coming in as of recently, she knew him well, theyd chatter as he looked for books, she knew he preferred older pieces of literature and she’d started occasionally setting ones she believed they’d both enjoy, to the side. “and Mr. Reyes.” greeting him in the same polite manner as she did the older gentleman. Their town was small, and she heard whispers on the street, more so from people who took the shop as a quiet place to gossip. She knew Ezekiel had come out of prison not too long ago, yet he seemed fairly well put together.

The soft, kind smile never left the woman’s face.

“Hello, Eldrid. good to see you again, sorry for dropping in so late, Ez wanted to tag along again today.” the older one of the two apologized as she dove down, setting a stack of books on the counter before waving them both over.

“no need to apologize, we’re still open for another...” she trailed off to check the watch that sat on her wrist, it’s leather bands hugging it well. “half an hour so do as you please, these are a few of the newest editions that caught my eye, i figured you’d both enjoy these so have a look.” she spoke, watching as both men began to look through the pile, talking amongst themselves while she busied herself with other things.

“Hey, Eldrid.” Ezekiel started, several books tucked beneath his arm. “do you think that, if I come back Monday, this one would still be around?” he asked, his index finger stuck to a book that sat on the counter.

Raising her brows only to furrow them, Eldrid looked at the man incredulously, but nodding her head. “considering we aren’t open weekends, and are about to close, on a Friday, yes. i believe so.” she informed him, a hint of sarcasm lacing her tone.

“perfect, so I’ll take these, and be back Monday.” he said, and she nodded, ringing both through and wishing them farewell before she started, alongside Asher, closing up shop for the weekend. With her bag strapped to her shoulders, she locked the back doors, and the front ones, as both left the building. Going home for the weekend.

Weekends aren’t usually a huge deal for Eldrid, the shop had become like a second home to her, and never felt a lot like work in the first place. When she was in her little apartment, it was all about self care, and laying back with her dog laying on the corner of the bed as she did whatever she wanted during her time away from work. She wasn’t big on going out, nor did she have all too many friends, she knew one would expect more from a woman in her mid twenties to be more active with going out, but she preferred to protect herself and her peace. The next Monday morning, bright and early, El strolled down the street that led to her cozy little book shop. There shouldn’t be too much restocking, she wasn’t expecting any arrivals this weekend, so unless the boss was in during those two days, there wouldn’t be too much to do. Unlocking the front, and letting herself in, Eldrid headed to the back to start a pot of coffee for when Asher, or whichever employee that was to help her today, came in within the next half an hour.

She was in the midst of setting her bag into the shelf when several loud crashes interrupted the silence, dropping the the floor when she head guns starting to penetrate the front windows, glass shattering as bullets littered every corner of the front of her shop. She hadn’t realized that she had gasped, and held her breath, panting, she cradled her hands around her head, staying pinned to the ground until there was nothing but silence. Her ears rang loud, as sobs racked her chest, heaving, her panic set in heavily. She didn’t dare move until quite a bit later, when she carefully stood to her feet with tear stained cheeks. Shaking, Eldrid grabbed her phone and called her boss.

After three rings, the man on the other end picked up with a casual “Hello?”

“Mr. Galindo, it’s Eldrid Orejuela. Y-“ she was bound to continue but he interrupted her with a gleeful “Good Morning” and “How are things at the shop?”

“that’s actually what I was - I was calling you about. I just got in, and while I was making coffee.. uh.. There was shooting, and the windows are broken. I’m- I’m so sorry the windows are broken I don’t know what happened.” she stuttered a few of her words, being still shaken up. She was met with silence, then Miguel spoke up.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“no.”

“good. Have you called the police?”

“No. Did you want me to?”

“Please do so. I’ll be there shortly.”

After that, Eldrid hung up the phone to Mr. Galindo, and called the authorities, right after she hung up with them, filling them in, she dared to head into the front room. It was destroyed, bullets littered every shelf, lodged in many books, shards of glass laid in every corner. She placed a hand over her mouth, looking around, in complete shock. Her attention shot towards the door when the bell jingles, tears glazed over her eyes moments earlier. She didn’t recognize the man, but he wore the same vest that Ezekiel wore, though, he was taller, had more facial hair. He looked to her,she could’ve sworn that she saw a hint of concern in his eyes, but who wouldn’t.

“Um, I’m sorry, but we aren’t currently serving customers, there’s been... A minor set back.” she nodded, wiping her cheeks, and trying to sound professional despite the last few minutes.

“Clearly.” he spoke, in a ‘duh’ tone of voice. “are you alright? I saw vans speeding off while on my way in, figured I’d check if anyone was hurt.” he said.

“Thank you.” she said, feeling strangely drawn to him, the man was, a sight for sore eyes to say the least, his hands looked strong, his shirt hugging his biceps perfectly and the concern on his face.. Adorable, if he could be labeled as such. Eldrid tugged her cardigan tighter to her body, crossing her arms over her stomach. “I’ll be fine. Police is on their way.” she nodded.

Quickly approaching, the man caught her as her head felt heavy, then suddenly very light. On her way down, she had fallen into his arms, instead of on the shards on the ground. “maybe you should sit, did you get hit?” he asked, settling her on one of the chairs.

“no.” she muttered, rubbing her forehead, hissing at the pain that struck suddenly, very strongly. Pulling her hand back, she saw it had an all too familiar copper liquid staining her fingers. “I must’ve hit my head, when - when i was in the back I dove for cover and-“ she muttered, looking up at him when she heard the sound of police sirens echoing, hurting her throbbing head further. Seconds later, Miguel and Nestor walked past the threshold of the door quickly, looking for Eldrid.

“Eldrid!” Called out Nestor, someone who had been a friend to her for years, he alone, was the reason she had the job she adored, he’d set her up for it, suggesting the young woman to Miguel for the shop. He rushed to her side, kneeling in front of her carefully, he caressed her cheek, cradling her face in his hand. “are you okay? you’re bleeding.” he pointed oht, glancing up to the other man, his impression soured but returned to that same glance of worry when it shifted back to Eldrid.

“Paramedics are in the front, you’re getting checked out before anything else.” Miguel said, giving a nod to Nestor to take her out front. His eyes fixated on the man that had just had his hands on their Eldrid. She felt the tension, but couldn’t put her finger on it, with her head throbbing.

After a few minutes of getting poked and prodded, both with questions and medical supplies, she saw the man from a few minutes prior walk away from the scene.

“See ya around, Ellie.” he said as he walked passed her, she didn’t reply with much but a weak wave of her hand. Everything felt like a dream, it’d happened so fast, but also so slow. Nothing felt real. Did she really meet a man who saved her from further head injuries, and not get his name? Or did she imagine that? was her head really that out of place? Couldn’t be. Would she ever see this man again? Why was he there so early?

“It’s Eldrid!” She called after him, being met with only a chuckle.

[arandompostarchive]

Inure - Ch. 3

SAVED WORK

Summary: To some, The Specter is a serial killer. To some, a hero. But to everyone, you were entirely a mystery. You had no history, just a list of victims a mile long. No matter how many people searched your name, they could find anything. If only they had the spelling right. Now, you’ve come across some unfortunate information that drives you out of your usual shadows and into the path of the Avengers. Including two of the more reclusive members of the team. And it’s hard to pick only one of them.

***

You had finally showed up on the doorstep of a long awaited target. You had gotten the tip from a morally questionable FBI agent who really needed a break. Apparently, this target had been leading quite the operation.

Managing drug rings, human trafficking, and murder. Not to mention the amount of people she had killed on her own. Even that sounded like your usual case. A major criminal who you got to take out. Just your average job. Until you looked into her a bit more.

She didn’t just murder. She tortured. All of her victims had gone through days of torture, maybe even weeks. Apparently, even forensics investigators weren’t sure exactly how long these people had to suffer. It made you sick.

“Violet.” You said, rounding the corner. Unlike most of your targets, she had an office of her own. You had caught her at work late, one of the last people there. You didn’t mind people being in the building. There wouldn’t be any gunshots to hear. Maybe a scream or two.

“Yes? Can I help you?” You walked into the room. It was neatly decorated. The token and artifacts around the room were no doubt extremely expensive and probably stolen. Her accent stood out. It was heavy, though her words were still clear. She was certainly European, though you couldn’t remember what country and couldn’t place it from sound alone. “I have things to do so if you wouldn’t mind hurrying?” You walked a bit quicker, trying to avoid her yelling. You didn’t want her making that much noise just yet, it might attract unwanted attention.

You stepped into her office, walking toward her desk. The room smelled like lavender, a candle or two rested on side tables around the room. The smell was heavy, almost nauseating.

“What sort of outfit is that supposed to be? Are you one dressing up?” She gestured to your suit. It was less fancy than most suits you’d seen. Black with a few red accents. It made it easier to blend in and the hood and mask over your mouth helped keep your identity secret. There was a small filter on the side of the mask though, to help you breathe and disguise your voice when you spoke. Not that anyone would recognise you. In fact, you didn’t care much about people knowing your name, but if your face was plastered everywhere you’d never be able to be in public again.

“That’s not important. What is important is you, Ms. Wagner.” You said, your eyes focused on her. Your eyes were clear under the hood as you looked up at her. You were calm. You’d done jobs like this a million times, she wasn’t special. Though, you always appreciated time to exercise your powers. They were destructive and dangerous, so you only used them on the worst of the worst. Those people got locked up in a prison or mental institution, but as long as you were alive, they couldn’t be helped.

“What the hell do you want? Say it quick then get out.” She was short tempered, that was for sure.

“Alright then. You used to work for Hydra, then you got too much for them to handle. You torture and kill, you did this in your old home too. And now, you’ve moved countries to start all over. Not to mention the drug rings you’re tied to,” You said, your voice calm and steady. That was always the most terrifying part for them. You were so collected, sure of yourself. You knew they weren’t going anywhere. And the second they heard your mellow voice, they knew it too.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?! Accusing me of things like that.” She remarked, standing from the large leather chair she sat on. She was clearly nervous though, the slight shake in her voice gave it away. “Get the hell out. Now.” She pointed toward the door. You didn’t move. “I said now. Can’t you hear, bitch?” She said, this time crossing her arms. “I’ll call security.” She said. It wasn’t an empty threat, you could tell, but you weren’t worried.

They wouldn’t get here in time anyway.

You focused on her. Her mind. What she was thinking, what she felt, anything about her. Then you heard it.

“Who does she think she is? March in here like she owns the place. Pathetic.”

Her thoughts. You focused harder. This time on her fears. Everything she regretted, everything she hated, things she was scared of. You found every last one of the monsters in her closet. And then you made them real.

She looked left and right, probably hallucinating something awful. You could never completely see what you created, unless it was an illusion, but you could usually guess what was happening based on what they said.

“Mother?” She asked. She was only staring at a wall, a painting of flowers hung on it along with other paintings she had collected. The look on her face was horrified. You wondered what the story was there.

It was an ability you’d had since you were young, though it was much weaker before you ‘died’. Now, it was one of your most useful skills.

“Stop! Dear god, stop, please. Fuck. Please!” She said. There were tears forming in her eyes already and her voice was cracking. She looked up at you. “You! What did you do to me? What the hell did you do?!” She continued yelling at you but eventually her words became jumbled, the occasional scream cutting in. She’d glance from side to side occasionally before squeezing her eyes shut and looking down. They always acted like that. Strong, determined to stop you, then reduced to nothing but mumbling husks.

You focused on yourself now, this time disguising yourself with an illusion. Another woman walked into the office. Her skirt was short, though professional and you could see a red collared sweater tied around her hips. You’d left the door half open, her screams could be heard down the hallway, so it wasn’t a huge surprise to see someone else come in.

“Miss Wagner?” The woman said. She looked like a college intern, twenty years old at maximum. “Oh my god.” She walked toward the desk until she spotted the broken woman. Violet’s artificial tan didn’t help how pale her face had become. Her legs had given out and now her arms were struggling to support her as she sat on the ground, tears running down her face. She was mumbling things about her mother, father, and ‘the children’, which you suspected were the ones she tortured. Hm. Maybe she did feel some guilt about that. She’d glance back to where you stood. You made sure she could see you, though the intern was oblivious to your presence.

“Miss Wagner? Miss Wagner? Are you alright?” The girl asked, clearly unsure what to do. Violet didn’t respond. She continued staring down at the floor, mumbling and sweating. “Violet?” The girl tried using the woman’s first name instead. She flinched back like she was expecting some huge outburst. Her employees must be treated poorly as well.

“I-I…” the girl paused. It seemed like she didn’t want to help the crying woman on the floor. You figured Violet wasn’t a very nice boss. The girl shook her head a bit, standing up. She took a deep breath before speaking with confidence, “I’m going to call an ambulance. I’ll be back, I promise.” She ran off, back to her desk presumably to make the call. You nodded, appreciating her morals to do the right thing for an awful person. Sadly, you didn’t live by the same rules. You could hear her talking to someone as you made your way over to Violet.

“Awe, darling.” You lifted up her chin with your fingers. You met her eyes. They were filled with pure terror and they kept glancing over your shoulder. You laughed at her. The ways her eyes seemed unable to focus and how clammy her face felt.

“Please…” She started. “I can’t live like this, at least kill me. I understand. I’ve learned. Is that what you want? Learning?” You shook your head. Of course she tries now. Now that you’re torturing her like she once did to others and now she wants to ‘learn her lesson’?

“No. That’s not what I want. I want you to rot somewhere. And maybe someone out there, someone much nicer than me, will take pity. And kill you.” Your hand left her chin and she was left, crying out for as long as the strain in her voice would let her.

***

The next few days consisted of mostly theorizing with the team. Besides that, you and Loki had your own two person ‘book club’ and you learned about some new weapons with Bucky. He had an appreciation for the development in weaponry over the past decades and you didn’t mind learning with him. It also turned out the two of them were friends, so the three of you sometimes had lunch together, though you preferred having one on one time with either of them.

The rest of the team was anxious to find the new SPECTR machine as soon as possible and get you out of their house, not that you could blame them. A very small part of you didn’t want it to end that quickly though. You hadn’t had a real home since the 40’s and before you died you spent all your time in a military camp or in a science lab. That, and you had real friends, well, as close to ‘real friends’ as you’d had in decades. Of course, it helped that they were both extremely attractive, but hey. No one could blame you for that train of thought.

Most of the team still wasn’t happy to have you with them. Though it felt bad to be on the outside, you were used to it. If you had it your way, you never would’ve come there at all, but there were lives on the line and you really needed immunity.

“Everything alright?” Bucky asked as he adjusted the tape over his hands. The two of you had tried out sparing since you could take one hell of a hit so he was free to use his metal arm on you. He had even consented to letting you study it for an hour or two. The two of you got along well and both he and Loki had moved up from the position of ‘not-enemy’ to ‘associate’, though it wasn’t much of a leap. You were hardly ready to trust them, it had only been a few days.

“Just fine. Whenever you’re ready, Barnes.” You said, tossing aside your sweatshirt as you stood across from Bucky. You readied your stance and waited for him to say the word.

“Go.” You took a step forward but Bucky rushed toward you, taking a swing with his metal arm. You knew he appreciated an opponent who could take a hit from a weapon like that, though it took some convincing for him to go all out. You were certain he still wasn’t using 100% of his strength, but it was a start. You ducked, sliding next to him before getting up on one knee and taking a jab at his leg. He stumbled a bit, but stayed standing. Although it wasn’t as effective as you hoped, it gave you time to stand without interruption.

The second he turned to face you, you punched him in the chest, sending him back a bit. He stepped forward and swung his leg into your side, making you stumble too. You kept your hand out to help you balance. You lowered yourself and swiped under his legs. He tripped, but caught himself with his flesh arm. You stood up, jumping back.

He stood again, rushing toward you, metal fist raised. You caught his punch and you could feel the sting against your hand. You were definitely going to have a bruise or two after this. You threw his hand aside, setting him off balance and kicked into his side. He landed on his stomach with a small thud and you kept your foot against his back and kneeled down, arm held against the back of his neck.

“Not bad.” He said, you stood and helped him up.

“Same to you.” You nodded as a small sign of respect. “I’m going to take a shower, I’ll need it before the rest of your group calls some sort of meeting.” You rolled your eyes and Bucky nodded. You could tell he didn’t really like you making fun of his ‘team’, but he never said much. It made you feel a bit bad, but on the other hand, the do-gooders were about as annoying as it gets.

The elevator felt slower than normal, though it was probably just the uncomfortable feeling of sweat on your skin. You stepped out onto your floor. You shared it with Clint and Natasha, probably so they could keep an eye on you. You didn’t mind too much, Clint wasn’t too bad and you had a certain amount of respect for Natasha. She used to have a similar career to you after all. She’d made her way onto your radar for a while, though there were bigger fish to fry and SHIELD was already on her tail. Still, you’d much rather be alone.

You were about to open the door leading to your room when you sensed something was off. Your abilities were helpful in your line of work. Sensing other people had become a skill of yours and right now, something was wrong.

You were on high alert, though you knew it was probably just a team member. You opened the door slowly, prepared to fight if need be. Instead, Natasha sat on your couch, cleaning some of her guns.

The weapons didn’t bother you too much. They were all disassembled for cleaning, the magazines sitting on the table, completely empty. You were sure she’d done that part on purpose, just so you’d know she wasn’t here for a fight, but she’d fight back if need be.

You walked often to your makeshift kitchen and pulled out a bottle of vodka. Whiskey was more your thing, but you’d make do with what you had. You poured a full glass, not caring much for how you were ‘supposed’ to pour it, Natasha was silent the whole time, waiting for you to come over to her.

You moved toward the couch and sat next to her, waiting for her to talk.

“Good to see you again.” She said, not looking away from her weapons. You smiled, taking a large sip of your drink. It burned a bit in your throat, though it wasn’t anything new.

“I’m glad you cleaned up your act.” You said, not offering her any greeting. You could see her smile.

“Why did you let me go that day?” She asked, this time looking up at you. She looked genuinely curious. She didn’t waste any time getting to the point, huh?

“You were finally on the right path. After spending so long killing who you were told to, Clint got you where you were supposed to be.”

She shook her head, not quite understanding. “I was about to kill him. That target, I was going to kill him, I did kill him, and you walked away and left him with me. Why.”

You relaxed against the couch, realizing your shower would have to wait a little longer. “He deserved it. SHIELD was right to send you after him, his death saved lives. I was just making sure you were staying on task. And staying on the right side of the tracks. So to speak.” You took another long sip, hoping you’d feel the effects sooner rather than later.

“You were watching me?” She asked. You were a bit surprised. Natasha was a talented assassin, someone capable and good at protecting herself. Though you doubted that she would know it was you, you did think she’d figure out that someone was watching her. It gave you a small confidence boost.

“I watch a lot of people, Natasha. I like making sure that people in powerful positions really want what’s best for society. Sometimes, they become a target.” You took another gulp of your drink, slightly anxious to finish it as quickly as possible. “Like that Stark.” Natasha began putting a few of her guns back together and into a small black bag next to her.

“Stark was a target?”

You shook your head. “No, but he was on my watch list. His dad wasn’t my favorite guy and for a while he made some rather destructive weapons. I had to make sure he wouldn’t turn into some power-crazed nut job.”

Natasha laughed a bit, “Yeah, pretty sure he did that anyway.” You laughed. Making fun of a Stark was something you did with Peggy. It felt familiar. Sitting down with ‘the other woman on the team’ and having a chat about your friends. Familiar, but not the same.

“Tell me, if I hadn’t been doing the right thing, if I had let him go or left him alive, would you have killed me?” You didn’t pause, you knew your answer.

“Without a second thought.” You took another sip, this one longer than your previous ones. Natasha nodded, understanding. Of all the people in the tower, she was probably the one who would understand most.

She finished up cleaning another gun before Friday’s voice was heard in your room. Great.

“Spectr, Miss Romanoff, you’re wanted in the meeting room. There’s been a robbery.”

You downed the rest of your drink, ignoring the burn in your throat. Natasha gave you a slight side glance, probably worried for your health. Not that it was a real concern for you anymore.

“Uh… do you guys usually answer robberies?” You asked, setting down the glass. Natasha grabbed her bag, bringing it with her out of the room.

“No, there’s something else to this.” You nodded, accepting her answer. You internally groaned at the feeling of sweat still on you. At this point, you’d even settle for a five minute shower. You ran to your room quickly, pulling off the tank top you were wearing and grabbing a t-shirt. At least you wouldn’t have to wear a soaked shirt. It was just you and Natasha in the elevator in silence. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t a situation you wanted to be in.

The room was almost completely full, though Wanda and Vision were right behind you. You took a seat toward the end of the table next to Steve. You were sure they put you there just in case someone needed to knock you out in a worst case scenario, though you didn’t care.

Steve set down a few papers just as Wanda sat down.

“Alright, everyone’s here.” He pulled his seat closer to the table. “There was a robbery earlier today.”

“What, did some kid swipe a candy bar? How is this our problem.” Tony asked. He was wearing sunglasses despite being indoors. Though the normal assumption would be that he just came inside, you somehow doubted that.

“Not exactly. The focus is what was stolen. It was at a nearby museum, the owners themselves weren’t sure what it was since it didn’t have any sort of identification. Just that it was World War II memorabilia.”

“Oh I see, someone took your old helmet?” Tony said, interrupting again. Your eyes narrowed. You were getting annoyed with his constant comments, though the rest of the group seemed unbothered. That, or they had grown used to his obnoxious personality. You saw Loki’s face shift though, so he was probably feeling similar emotions to yours.

“The owners said it was part of an unfinished project, we think it might be a piece of Project SPECTR.” A few eyes turned toward you, including Steve’s. “Do you recognize this?” He asked, setting a photo down in front of you. It was most certainly a piece of your machinery.

“It’s what we used to stabilize our core. I built it forever ago just tinkering with supplies, no blueprints. It’s one of a kind. I doubt I could remake it myself.”

“Well, that explains why it was robbed.” Natasha said, just loud enough for the few people around her to hear. You were seated next to Loki on the end of the table. Bucky was across from you and avoiding your eye-contact, which is what he usually did during meetings.

“So, what now?” A man asked. You now knew him as Sam, or ‘The Falcon’, the other bird-themed hero.

“We find anything else we can.” You said, choosing to look at Steve. It felt odd talking to a room, so you tried to focus on one person instead. You were used to creating plans by yourself, not brainstorming with a group. “I left plenty of materials and blueprints behind. I never got a chance to examine why it malfunctioned, but I’m sure a good percent of the original machine is usable.”

“So, where is it?” Clint asked, contributing to the discussion.

“Well, it’s been almost 70 years so I have no idea. Didn’t have a reason to keep track of all that junk.” Steve nodded, though some of the group sighed out loud.

“Let’s check the site and see what else turns up. We hardly need the whole group for this, though.”

***

Steve had sent a group of only a few people. Natasha, who was acting as the temporary leader. Loki, who could use magic to help track down people with any evidence left behind. Steve had been against sending Loki since he was technically still confined to the compound with the exception of missions. Natasha however argued that this was a mission and that Loki would be a useful team member. Of course, she was right, so he was along with the group.

He had also sent Clint and Bucky along, more to act as guards while you, Loki, and Nat looked around the area. The police had done their job and found any evidence left behind, though Loki was trying to use magic to find anything else. So far, no luck.

The group of you were talking to one of Fury’s remaining agents at the site. SHIELD may have disbanded, but Fury still had quite a few people on his side. Some of which apparently still helped him out now and then. It was like a much smaller version of SHIELD.

“Best we got is some DNA evidence. We matched it in our system, according to the evidence, he was one of us, back when we were active.”

You were a bit confused. “An agent?” Natasha asked, sharing your confusion. You masked it better than her though, it was probably because she was more familiar with the former agent in front of you than you were.

The woman nodded, showing you her screen, a picture of an average looking 30-something year old guy looking rather bored in the picture.. “Jackson Hastings. Odd thing is, he went missing on a mission a while ago. Hasn’t been seen since.” Natasha took the tablet screen from her and you looked over her shoulder.

“Holy shit.” The group looked at you.

“You know him?” Natasha asked curiously.

“He was one of my targets.” You said, sure of yourself. He was a corrupt member of SHIELD. It was before SHIELD completely dismantled. You couldn’t prove that he was connected to Hydra in any way, though you had your suspicions.

“You’re sure?” She asked and you nodded in response. “Let’s head back, I think this is about as much evidence as we’re getting.” The group agreed and you thanked the woman on your way out.

***

“And you’re positive you targeted this man?” Steve asked, staring you down.

“Very. I don’t forget targets.” Besides, Hastings was a case you would remember. Fury had sent you a file or two himself, not that he’d admit it, including this one. He couldn’t prove Hastings was guilty. He knew you’d kill him if he was, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Hastings had access to files that could end important operations and expose several undercover agents. So, you just ‘happened’ to run into Hastings’ file. Sure enough, he was more than guilty.

“Some of your targets are still alive, right?” Clint asked and you nodded.

“Wait, so you just let some of these guys go? What, were they suddenly innocent?” Tony asked. Though his tone was sarcastic, the question was genuine so you decided to answer.

“Innocent? Hardly. But life holds things much worse than death. Much worse.” The group tried to ignore that statement, though you could see curiosity written over their faces.

“Is he one of them? The alive targets, I mean.” Steve asked, getting back to the topic at hand.

“No, he didn’t deserve punishment that bad. He’s only dead.” Hastings was one of the more straightforward cases. In any court, the way you got your proof wouldn’t be admissible. In fact, you’d probably get arrested too. That’s why you’d turned into judge, jury, and executioner.

“Alright. So, a dead man walks into a museum. Sounds like the set up to a shitty joke.” Tony remarked under his breath, though most of the table was able to hear the comment.

“If you killed him when he went on that mission, then he’s been dead for years. Now, he’s able to steal a highly guarded museum item but leaves behind blood?” Natasha said, posing the question to the group.

“Clearly, it’s not impossible for people to come back from the dead. I mean…” Tony gestured to you, Bucky, Steve, and Loki on your side of the table. Though your situations were wildly different, Stark did have a point. All of you had been labelled ‘dead’ at one point or another.

“Well, our cases are different, don’t you think?” Loki asked, actually contributing to the conversation. You were certain that was the first time you had heard him speak in a meeting. “The Sergeant, the Captain and I were never really dead in the first place.” You heard Thor grumble something on Loki’s other side, though you were unable to make out his words.

“I’m definitely an exception,” You continued, “but it took me about 50 years and a huge malfunctioning healing machine. Considering the fact that he’s trying to build SPECTR, I doubt he died the same way.” You concluded landing the group, once again, on ground zero.

“Okay, so no more zombies. What’s going on then? You sure you killed him?” Tony said, the last part directed at you.

“Certain. His head was very much detached.” You didn’t share too many of the details since the group never seemed to like that, but you had to slip in the occasional dark joke. Ask a psychopathic serial killer to join your team and you’re inviting in murder-based comedy.

“Alright. Any other ideas?” Tony asked, slightly disturbed.

“What if we have a shapeshifter? A dead man is a good disguise for a robbery, no?” Wanda asked in her accent. Her voice was pretty and the accent certainly helped. You wanted her to read something to you while you intently listened on, enjoying the sound. You did your best to stay focused though and thought over her question. The other scientists of the room looked like they were doing the same. Finally, you found a bit of a flaw.

“Down to the molecular level? Even after the material has left his body? Is that possible?” You questioned. A shapeshifting person was incredible on it’s own, now they can manipulate their form even when not connected to the DNA. A fascinating person indeed. In any other situation, you’d be itching to meet them. Maybe study them for a few hours. But this didn’t seem like the kind of guy who just wanted to have a chat.

Clint shrugged. “I’ve seen weirder.”

He did have a point. After all, you were sitting between a superhuman soldier who had supposedly died 70 years ago and a Norse god, things had changed since the 40s. Not to mention the fact that you were essentially a psychic zombie.

“So, what do we do now? Wait for the next robbery? If it is a shapeshifter, which is only a theory by the way, we have no way of finding anyone.”

Steve looked around, seeing if anyone had any ideas. When no one spoke up, he sighed. “Then I guess we wait.”

***

You walked out of the meeting with way more questions than you’d hoped to have. You made your way upstairs and finally took a decent shower and sat down with a proper glass of whiskey. You weren’t even sure if you’d drank water while you were at the tower. Not that you really needed it.

The TV was playing some new show you weren’t familiar with. You didn’t get any of the ‘comedic’ references, nor did you understand the plot, but you were too lazy to search for something else.

There was a soft knock on your door. You groaned a bit, not wanting to answer.

“What do you want?” You yelled, loud enough so the person on the other side could hear you from your couch.

“It’s me.” You recognized the accent and sighed, getting up without bothering to pause the TV. You opened the door, waving the person in and sitting back down, taking another long sip of your drink.

“I’m fairly certain drinking that much is bad for you.” Loki said in a joking manner. He didn’t get to do that too often. Everyone assumed there was some malintent behind the joke.

“It’s not exactly gonna kill me.” You sat back, finally grabbing the remote to find something more interesting.

“Still, I can’t imagine it being good for you. Maybe try something else?” He suggested calmly.

You rolled your eyes a bit. He may have been more fun than the other caped crusaders, but he was hardly close enough to give you health advice.

“What do you want.” You didn’t look at him.

He sighed, accepting that he wasn’t going to get a better answer than that. “You said that life holds things worse than death.”

When he didn’t continue, you responded. “Yeah. And?”

“What did you mean?”

You didn’t really want to have this conversation. The team already thought you were horrifying, talking about your abilities certainly wouldn’t help.

“Sometimes it’s better to just die than live in torture, that’s what I mean.” It wasn’t exactly an answer, but it was sort of true. That’s close enough, right?

He considered this. “So the people you leave alive, they’re worse than the dead ones?” You nodded.

“Yup. Are we done with this conversation now? I’ve got 70 years worth of movies to watch.” You flipped through more channels to find something tolerable.

Loki looked like he had something else to say, you were certain there was something else. “Yes, that’s fine.” He stood up, walking slowly. Though you were sure why, you thought it was because he was having some sort of inner debate.

He turned around and opened his mouth, but you spoke first. “Yes, you can stay. Grab some chips while you’re up though, I’ll find something decent.” He smiled a bit. He never really asked to stay, he just waited to be invited. You didn’t really mind, he was good company. And quiet for the most part.

For once, you didn’t mind spending extra time with someone.

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader chapter 94

warnings: none! hold my hand masterlist

The sand is soft on your feet as you walk down the beach, and you stop and pick up a seashell to look at in your hand as you sit down. Even though the sun is coming up and scorching on your face, you smile as you close your eyes and take it in for one last time. You get up and walk down to the water, watching the waves crash over your feet, then you cross your arms and look up at sun streaking the sky orange.

“Hey,” John calls out, and you look over your shoulder at him, “I was looking for you. This is the second time you got up early and came out here, freaks me out when you’re not in bed.”

You chuckle as you reach up to kiss him, then you lean back against his chest when he wraps his arm around your waist, “Sorry, I just wanted to watch the sun one last time.”

John holds you tight in his arms and buries his face in the crook of your neck, “It’s been a good week, peach.”

“It has been,” you tilt your head back and smile, “Thank you for this. I didn’t realize how much we needed this until we got here. We really needed some time away after those stressful two weeks.”

“Well, you deserved a honeymoon. We can’t get married and not have a honeymoon.” John chuckles as he lets go of you, then he sits down in the sand and reaches for your hand.

You sit down next to John and nod your head as you look back at the sunset. You take a deep breath and let out a small laugh when you look over at John, and he furrows his brow and grows curious.

“What?”

“We’re married now, so it’s okay for me to ask things I’ve always wanted to ask, right?” you ask as John nods. “Okay, so, when you were…working, did you have a saying or something?”

John laughs as he furrows his brow, “What?”

“Ya know, like ‘shaken not stirred’, or oh, how about like, ‘hasta la vista, baby’?” you say, putting on the worst Arnold Schwarzenegger accent imaginable. “You know, when you’d kill someone, did you have a catchphrase or something?”

A loud laugh rises from John’s chest as he shakes his head, then he looks up at you and continues laughing, “No, I did not have a catchphrase. Should I have had one?”

“Woulda been kinda cool.” you tease, then you look over at him and smile, “You’ve mentioned a man named Marcus only once since we’ve been together, and that was a very long time ago when we were on our second date.”

“Yeah…” John nods as he looks at you.

You shrug a little, holding his gaze, “Do you…do you ever wanna talk about him or anything?”

John rubs his right hand over your back as he smiles, then he looks out at the sun, “Not really, but not because I don’t want to tell you anything. I just…don’t really know where to start.”

“I get that,” you scoot closer to him and smile, “But you could start anywhere. I just like hearing you talk about your past because I feel like sometimes it makes you feel a little better. I know there’s still some part of you that worries I’m going to leave when I learn certain things, but I never would. I don’t know if you know it or not, but…I’m kinda obsessed with you, so I’m not going anywhere.”

“Kinda obsessed with you too.” he smiles, leaning over to kiss your forehead. He inhales deeply as he looks at you, then he rubs his thumb over your cheek, “I know he’d have loved you. He’d like how you put me in my place every now and again.”

You laugh quietly, nudging his stomach, “Gotta keep you in line, Mr. Wick.”

“He’d be happy to know I settled down again.” he says, nodding his head, “He told me that I’d find my way back to that life I had, and I did. It just got a little better when I found it the second time.”

“Me?”

John laughs as he nods, “Yes, of course you, sweetheart.”

The two of you look out at the sun rising as you listen to the waves crashing against the beach, and you lean over to rest your head on John’s shoulder. You close your eyes as he wraps his arm around your waist and rubs your back, and you smile when he kisses the top of your head.

“What do you think you’d be doing if we hadn’t met?” you ask, looking up at John, “Still working?”

“I don’t know,” John answers, then he looks over at you, “Maybe, but probably not very often. I am old.”

You laugh as you nudge his shoulder, “No, you’re not!”

John chuckles and gives you a wink before he looks back out at the ocean, “I don’t know what I’d be doing. Probably trying to just…live a normal life, but I’d be lonely; I wouldn’t have you.”

“I’d like to think you’d have met someone.” you shrug and inhale deeply, “Maybe someone around your age who you’d get along with. Maybe she’d have kids of her own from a previous marriage, but you wouldn’t mind. You’d like being with her since she’s around your age and you just get along. The two of you don’t get married because you’re still a little broken from losing Helen, and she’s cautious because of her previous marriage -- he fucked her over. The two of you are together for a few years before you ask if she’d like to move in with you, and she says yes. You’re happy and content, and so she is.”

“You…put a bit a thought into this.”

You laugh as you look up at him, “Nah, I just came up with it.”

John laughs as he shakes his head, “I don’t think I’d be with anyone at all. I didn’t really plan on being with anyone else. I went out on dates, but I wasn’t looking to settle down again. Not until I met you.”

A smile spreads across your face when John reaches for your hand and rubs his finger over your ring, then you look up at him and smile as he continues.

“I went out on dates to pacify Jimmy and to get him off my back, but it was never my intention to meet someone to spend my life with.” he says, shaking his head before he looks at you, “But when I walked outside and saw you that day, everything changed. I tried so hard to work up the courage to introduce myself to you at the bookshop, but fuck, you scared me.”

You laugh, “Me? You were scared of me? I can’t ever get over that.”

“You scared the absolute shit out of me because when I looked at you…” John laughs as he looks at you, “I felt something I hadn’t ever felt before.”

“Is that a good thing?”

John nods his head and smiles, “It’s a great thing. I just wanted to be the perfect man for you, the perfect husband and dad, and I just wanted to make you so happy.”

“You do make me happy.” you lean up to kiss him, lingering above his lips for a moment, “You’re an amazing husband, and you’ll be a great dad!”

“I wouldn’t have dated again if it weren’t for you, I truly believe that.” he whispers, and you smile as you look up at him as he gazes at you adoringly, “You’re the only one who I want, you’re the only one I could ever imagine being with.”

You tilt your head back and smile, “I’m glad that we met.”

“Me too,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you. “What about you? What would have happened to you if we hadn’t met?”

You hum as you look out at the ocean, then you inhale and shrug, “Well, I’d probably still be working at the bookshop, but if we hadn’t met, you wouldn’t have bought it and it would have closed. So, I’d probably have gotten a job in Oyster Bay somewhere. I guess I might have met someone, but I don’t think I’d be married at this point. To be honest, I wasn’t really ready to date either when we met, but…”

John smiles, ���You felt the same as me when we met?”

“Yeah,” you furrow your brow and laugh when you realize, “Yeah, it was like I just looked at you and saw the man who was going to change my life. So, if we hadn’t met, I think I’d maybe be seeing someone, but I wouldn’t be happy. Not like I am now. Not like I am with you.”

“Jimmy and Tess wouldn’t have met either, and we wouldn’t have our cute nephew.” John says, and you nod. “Wanna know what I think you’d be doing if we hadn’t met?”

You laugh as you nod, “Of course. I mean, I offered up a whole life for you.”

“You’d still work at the shop because I would have taken over it either way, but you’d hate me because I’d schedule you to work all the time just so I could see you. You’d probably tell whoever you were seeing that you hated your boss and you wanted to quit, but I’d nearly beg you to stay.” he says, and you start to smile. “You’d be happy with someone, and he’d treat you good, but then something would change for you one night when I ask you to stay behind and help me restock the shelves.”

You gasp, leaning in for more, “What?”

John chuckles, “You’d look at me differently. You’d realize that you were in love with me.”

Scoffing loudly, you playfully shove John, then you pull him to sit back up, “So, you think that no matter what, we would have found our way to one another?”

“Absolutely.” John nods as he wraps his arm around you, “There’s no way I wasn’t meant to be yours.”

You hold John’s gaze for a moment as you tear up, then you laugh almost in embarrassment, “God, that was so sweet. I think I was always meant to be yours too.”

Holding you tight in his arms, John looks back out at the sun that’s slowly rising higher, then he leans down to kiss the top of your head when you scoot closer to him.

This past week has been absolutely amazing with John, and you’re pretty sad that it has to end. You wish you could stay longer, and the two of you even talked about staying an extra few days, but with so many holidays coming up, it’s best that you get home so the employees can take some time off.

You tilt your head back to look at John, then you lick your lips as he leans down to kiss you. You get up to sit between his legs, then you lean against him and watch the sunrise one last time.

__

Walking into your room, you put your suitcase on the bed and open it, then you head into the bathroom to make sure you get all of your toiletries. John is folding a pair of jeans when you come out of the bathroom, and he gives you a smile when you look at him.

“You’re quiet, peach.”

Letting out a small laugh, you nod your head, then you shrug, “Yeah, sorry, just thinking about stuff. Wondering how much food has gone bad in the past week at home. We’ll need to go grocery shopping. Also I was thinking about this the other night, our pool is heated, right?”

“Yeah,” John nods, still keeping his gaze down on his folding, “I’ve never used it in the fall and winter though. This was the first time I’ve used our pool. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking that maybe we should get a thingy…you know, one of those things that goes over the pool.” you wave your hand back and forth as you try to find the word, then you snap your fingers, “Like a hard pool covering. If we have a baby, we need to get a cover on that pool. They could fall in the pool and drown, or fall in and crack their head open if there’s no water in it.”

John looks up at you and widens his eyes, “Baby, I know you hate this, but calm down. Take a few steps back.”

“Sorry,” you close your eyes and sigh, “I’m spiraling.”

Walking over to you, John sits down on the bed and reaches for your hands, “What’s going on?”

“I’m just overthinking and getting in my head.” you say, then you shrug, “Our house is like one big massive deathtrap.”

John laughs as he pulls you between his legs, “It’s not, baby. We’ll get the baby gates all set up before the baby is here, and then we’ll make sure that we get those rubber caps for sharp table corners.”

“I don’t know why I’m worrying. I’m not pregnant.” you say, sitting down in John’s lap, “I’m still not pregnant.”

Cupping your face, John leans up to kiss you, “Well, it’s not like we didn’t try this past week.”

You chuckle as John tickles the crook of your neck with his beard, then you lean back to look at him, “Thanks for this past week, it’s been an absolute dream.”

“It’s been a great week.” John whispers, holding your gaze as he moves his hand up your thigh. He cocks his eyebrow up and smirks, “One last time while we’re here?”

You laugh as you get up and move your suitcase, then you lay down on your back, pulling John on top of you, “One last time.”

__

The flight back home hasn’t been too bad, and you’re just sitting in your seat trying to do a wordsearch while John takes a nap. He’s back in the bedroom, but you’re sitting in your seat and looking out the window as the clouds pass by. You should be home shortly, maybe another hour and a half, and you’re feeling a little sad about going home.

You sniffle quietly as you look out the window, then you look over your shoulder when you hear the bedroom door open. John rubs the sleep from his eyes as he shuffles out to you, and you quickly wipe away the tear on your cheek.

“Not so fast,” John says, immediately perking up and sitting down next to you, “Are you okay?”

“I am,” you nod as you look at him, and he reaches over to rub his thumb over your chin, “I’m just sad that we’re going home.”

John furrows his brow a little, “You weren’t sad a little bit ago, you were excited to go home and see everyone.”

Taking a deep breath, you look up at John and exhale, “I’m just worried about going home, and the honeymoon is over, so…”

Nodding his head, John shifts in his seat and leans his elbows on his knees, “You know how you always get upset with me when I say I don’t deserve you or good things?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “That’s because you say it all the time, and it makes me sad that you don’t see yourself like I see you.”

John cocks up his eyebrow as he looks at you, and you nod as he reaches over for your hand, “I know you’re worried about the honeymoon fading, but it’s not going to. I’m crazy about you, and that won’t change.

“I always get like this when we’re leaving from vacation. I know we’ve only been on two, but I was like this when we went home from Italy too. When you go on vacation, you spend a week in this…fantasy world. There’s nothing around to spoil it, no responsibilities, no one around to bother you. Just me and you. You kind of forget that the rest of the world exists. You just want to live in that, in your happy little bubble. But coming home, that can all change. Things get in the way, jobs become your main focus again…”

“Baby,” John grips your hand tighter and shakes his head, “I am so sorry that someone in your past made you feel like you weren’t good enough, like you’re going to be tossed aside after a few months, but I promise you that that will not happen with me.”

You nod tearfully as you look at him, “I know. Trust me, I know that, but sometimes I just…”

“Get in your head.” John nods, then he lets out a small laugh, “Can’t say I’m not the same way.”

Reaching over, you place your hand on John’s cheek and give him a soft smile, “I know you love me, and I’ve never felt more confident about something in my life. I just worry sometimes, and when I do, you’re always there to give me a pep talk.”

“Always.” John leans over to kiss you, then he looks down at your wedding ring, “And I’m happy to do it -- I really am. This past week has been so amazing with you, but I can’t wait to get home and love on you there.”

You laugh quietly as you blush, squirming a little under John’s gaze, “Love on me?”

“Yeah,” he nods, leaning over to kiss your cheek repeatedly while he hums loudly, “Lovin’ on you every day for the rest of my life.”

You wrap your arms around John’s neck and close your eyes, leaning your forehead against his, “Thanks for being my best friend, John.”

“Thanks for being mine.” he whispers, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

__

Even though you were sad to leave your honeymoon, you’re so excited to finally be able to sleep in your own bed again. You called Tess the moment you landed, and the two of you planned to have a girls night while John and Jimmy watched some game on TV that Jimmy has been looking forward to. Finn is with his grandparents for tonight, so Tess is a little more than happy to be able to be kid-free.

You’re just relaxing for now until you go over there, and you’re unpacking your bags so you can wash your clothes -- somehow you not only packed your clothes, but you apparently packed sand. You watch as sand falls out of the pocket of a pair of shorts, and you reach in to find a seashell tucked into it.

“Did you do this?” you ask, holding up the seashell when John comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

John furrows his brow as he walks closer, then he laughs, “Oh, yeah, I stuffed sand--”

You watch as John widens his eyes and grins, and you roll your eyes, “Oh, I’m well aware that you stuffed sand in my pockets.”

Moving back to your suitcase, you hum to yourself while John gets dressed, and you smile when he walks over to kiss you. Sighing a little, you sit down on the bed and hold up your swimsuit -- you really miss the beach already.

“What are you and Tess doing tonight?” he asks, walking off to the bathroom to brush his hair.

“Uh, she just wants to hear about our honeymoon, so we’ll probably just chat.” you shrug, looking up at John as he comes out brushing his teeth, “I’m sure she’ll tell me about the shop and what everyone was up to while we were gone.”

John nods, “Yeah, Jimmy and I are watching some game, I guess.”

“I miss Bleu. I can’t wait to see him in a bit.” you smile as John nods, “He’s gonna piss everywhere when he sees you.”

“I miss him,” John laughs, then he walks into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth, “Are you going to shower?”

You stop just as you grab your towel, and you hold it up when John comes out of the bathroom, “I was just about to hop in after throwing some laundry in.”

“I’ll do it for you.” John smiles, leaning down to kiss you, then he pats your ass as you laugh. “I think I’m gonna head over to Jimmy’s a little early. Maybe after I throw these clothes in.”

Tilting your head back, you smile at John, “You miss your baby, I get it. I’ll meet you over there after my shower.”

“See you in a bit.” he says softly, leaning down for another kiss, “Love you.”

You smile as you watch John walk out of the room with a bit of pep in his step since he’s gonna be seeing Bleu, then you laugh and turn around, “Love you!”

__

After being on vacation for the past week, you’ve kind of forgot how cold New York is. You planned on just wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but as soon as you step onto the front porch, you turn around and grab your sweater.

Mill Neck is always so beautiful in the fall since the trees have such a great variety of colors, and you gasp a little when you remember the annual apple festival should be soon.

You open the door to Tess’ house and smile, expecting them to be in the living room, but it’s empty. You take off your shoes and set them aside, then you head downstairs when you hear laughter. Once you turn the corner, Tess hops up and squeals as she runs over to hug you.

“Hi! Hi!” she hugs you tight and rocks you back and forth, “How are you? How was your trip? Oh, my god, did you get even more gorgeous while you were gone?”

You laugh as you put your hand out to slow Tess down, then you set the gift bag aside and hug her again, “Hi, I’m good. Our trip was amazing, and no, I don’t think I got any more ‘gorgeous’ while I was gone.”

“Disagree.” John says, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“John, on the other hand, look how tan he got.” you laugh as you poke his arm, “He’s got so many freckles from the sun.”

Tess pulls you to the couch and smiles, “Tell us about your trip. John hasn’t said anything this whole time because he knew you’d want to tell me.”

You sit down next to John and smile, “It was so good. Our little house was so cute and sweet. Our bed was positioned so that we could literally watch the sunset from our bed, but we didn’t -- we went out to the beach every night and watched it. The first day there was so good, we just hung out obviously.”

“The second day was rough.” John jokes, and you laugh as you nod. “This one was hungover like no one’s business. She shot up in bed and ran to the bathroom, so I followed behind her because I just knew. Got her back in bed, then…well, it was my turn.”

You laugh as you reach up and pat his cheek, “Poor thing. I’ve never seen John sick before. We just took turns throwing up all day. One after the other.”

“It was a good trip though, right?” Tess asks, and she cocks up her eyebrow a little.

John wrap his arms around you and hugs you tight, “It was a great trip.”

“We got you two some things!” you say, grabbing the gift bag and handing it to Tess.

You watch as Jimmy and her look through the bag, and he laughs and reaches over to high five John when he sees the bottle of Caribbean rum. Tess furrows her brow when she pulls out two bottles of hot sauce, then she looks up at you.

“Ooh! Turks and Caicos hot sauce.” you close your eyes and smile, “So good. John grilled some chicken for us one night, and we put some hot sauce on it. So fucking good. John had heartburn after, but it’s so good.”

Tess laughs as she looks at John, “Did she tell you to lay on your left side?”

“Yeah,” he nods, ruffling your hair, “Barely got the sentence out and she told me to lay on my side.”

“And it worked, didn’t it? Your heartburn went away.” you say, and John nods. “Exactly. Works every time.”

Tess holds up a little box and smiles when she pops it open to find a necklace with a little camera pendant on it, “Oh, my god. This is so cute. Thank you.”

“We wanted to get everyone something; there’s a cute little onesie in there for Finn too.” you say, then you look over at John as he gets off the couch. You lean up to kiss him before him and Jimmy head upstairs, and he leans down to kiss you again.

“I love you,” he whispers as he holds your gaze.

You nod, leaning up to kiss him again, “I love you too.”

Tess smiles when you look at her, then she looks at Jimmy, “Let us know when the pizza is here.”

“Will do, babe.”

You look over at Tess as the boys head upstairs, and you smile when she moves closer to sit next to you on the couch. She wraps her arms around you and hugs you tight, leaning her head against yours.

“I missed you so much, babe!”

“I missed you too.” you laugh, looking over at her, “We definitely have to go there sometime. Our house was pretty small, and it only had one bedroom, but there was another house right next door that was empty. The beach was so beautiful, and god, I just didn’t even want to come home.”

Tess smiles, “So, you two have a good honeymoon?”

“We did. We made a lot of memories. Our first day there,” you widen your eyes and smile, then you lean closer to whisper, “We had sex on the beach.”

“Shut up!” Tess squeals, then she leans closer for more details.

You laugh and shake your head, “I was surprised by how much I loved it -- not the sex, obviously, just the whole ‘on the beach’ part. I figured I’d hate it because sand would be everywhere, but it wasn’t. John and I drank way too much, both took way too many shots of tequila, but we laughed and danced the whole night in our house, then we both passed out.”

“What else did you two do?”

“Uh, well, day two sucked so we just laid in bed and watched TV. The next day we were both feeling better, so we decided to explore a bit. We grabbed some lunch at this beachside restaurant, but the only problem with going to an island is that they mostly serve seafood, but they did have plenty of chicken and pasta too. Oh, and everything is spicy, so John was in heaven. We went paddleboarding, which was…hilarious because John fell about ten times, and I was worried about sharks the whole time.”

Tess laughs loudly and looks at you, “Well, you’re home in one piece.”

“Yeah, no shark bites.” you laugh, then you inhale deeply, thinking about what else you and John did, “We went mini golfing one day, we went to this little island that was locally known as Iguana Island -- that was fun. Iguanas all over.”

“It sounds like you had a lot of fun.”

You nod as you look at her, “We did. We made so many good memories and had so many good laughs. I’m still bummed that it’s over. We just had so much fun there, and we were just in our little bubble.”

Tess nods, then she turns to face you more, “I won’t lie, I was worried about the honeymoon fading once Jimmy and I got home, but that didn’t happen at all. Whoever says that that’s a real thing is full of shit. Obviously it was different for Jimmy and I because when we got home, we were expecting a baby, but now you and John are going to be trying for a baby.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, then you let out a small laugh, “John already gave me a pep talk about it when he realized I was crying on the flight home. I know he’s crazy about me, and I’m just as crazy about him, but I still worry.”

“I get it.” she nods, then she smiles when you look up at her, “Do you think you got pregnant?”

You smile and shrug, “I have no idea, but we had sex every day, well except for the day we were sick. We’re seriously trying, so fingers crossed. I mean, John and I are already pretty sexual but now that we’re trying to have a baby, it’s…crazy.”

Tess laughs, “Well, trying is half the fun, right?”

“Pizza’s here!” Jimmy yells, and you and Tess both head upstairs.

Gasping loudly, you lean down and hug Bleu when he runs over to you, and he licks your face non-stop until John pulls him off of you. His tail is wagging so fast that his whole body is shaking, and he leans up to lick John’s face.

“He missed his mom.” John laughs, and you lean over to kiss Bleu’s snout again. You lean down to pet Sadie, then you walk over and sit next to John on the couch.

Taking a bite of your pizza, you sit back and listen while John tells Tess about how drunk you got on your second day, and you playfully roll your eyes when he looks at you.

“It was nice to see her so carefree and relaxed after those two weeks we had with my lab results. She was dancing around and laughing non-stop,” John laughs, nudging your chin, “It was very cute.”

“Okay, you’re one to talk.” you point at John as you look at Tess, “He gets so giggly when he’s drunk. Oh, and corny! Like ten times worse than he already is! He was so smiley and giggly, and we danced and laughed all night. We had a lot of fun. Made lots of memories.”

John takes a bite of his pizza and laughs, “I think it’s safe to say we won’t be drinking for a while though.”

“Oh, definitely not.” you shake your head and widen your eyes, “No drinks for me any time soon.”

Jimmy opens a bottle of hot sauce and sprinkles some onto his pizza, then he takes a big bite and nods his head, “So good.”

“I think we should all go back there sometime. Maybe a family vacation next summer or something. I mean, it’s always nice there, so I guess it doesn’t matter when we go.” you shrug, and Tess smiles.

Tess clears her throat a little and gestures to you and John, “You two probably fucked each other’s brains out, so think you made a baby, John?”

John nearly chokes on his pizza, and he pats his chest a little as he coughs, “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“She’s Tess, what else would you expect?” you laugh as you look at her, “I don’t know, but we’re hopeful. If it doesn’t happen, we’ll just keep trying. No pressure on us. ”

“No pressure at all.” John smiles as he moves your hair away from your face, “We both know how much we want a baby, but we’re not going to get stressed out about it. It’s going to happen when it’s meant to.”

You smile as you look up at John, “Exactly.”

Taking a deep breath, John looks over at you and cocks up his eyebrow, almost like he knows something you don’t know. He starts to smirk when you scrunch your eyebrows and look at him, then he lets out a small laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing.” John laughs, taking a bite of his pizza, “You just promised me something when we got home, and tonight is the perfect night for it.”

You look over at Tess and scrunch your eyebrows more, trying to remember what you promised him, then you look back at John and laugh, “Sex?”

“Nope.” John shakes his head and smiles. “It’s something all of us can do. Actually Jimmy’s wanted to do it for a long time.”

Jimmy perks up a little and smiles, “Wait a minute…”

Looking over at John, you shake your head as you laugh, “Whatever promises I made while I was drunk do not count.”

“I knew you’d say that, which is why I made you sign a piece of paper.” he laughs, taking out his wallet to show you. He unfolds a blue piece of paper and holds it up to read, “I, Y/N Wick, promise to let my husband, John Wick, take me out driving.”

“Oh, shut up!” you grab the paper and laugh loudly when you see your signature in black pen.

John smiles when you look at him, “Your cute little signature right there. You promised, baby.”

Groaning loudly, you jokingly slap the piece of paper on John’s chest and sigh, “Fine! Fine, we’ll go.”

“This is gonna be fucking awesome.” Jimmy laughs, and you playfully glare at John as he smiles.

__

Even though you trust John more than literally anyone in this world, you’re beyond nervous to actually go driving with him. Of course you won’t be driving, but you’re still so fucking nervous. John is an amazing driver, and he always makes sure to keep it at a good speed when you’re in the car with him, but you have to admit that you’re a little scared.

John looks over at you and smiles as he reaches for your hand, squeezing it a little as he pulls into the airport parking lot. The sun is beginning to go down, so you’re sure you won’t be here too long. Thankfully.

“Can I just watch a few times first?” you ask, and John nods his head and smiles. You lean over to kiss John’s cheek, then you get out of the car and stand back a little, and you smile when Tess gets out too.

“I’ll stay with you.”

You give John a small wave as he drives away, then you bite your lip nervously as he revs his engine and quickly speeds away. Exhaling quietly, you look over at Tess to see her with a huge smile on her face as she watches John whip his car in every direction, and you look over and laugh when Jimmy yells loudly.

“I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be.” Tess laughs, then she gestures to John’s car, “He’s a good driver, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

You nod as you take a deep breath, “I know, and I trust John. It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s that you can lose control at any given moment that scares me.”

John pulls up in front of you and smiles, “Ready, baby?”

“Maybe you should go one more time.” you say, gesturing for Tess to get it.

“Oh, sure, let him kill me first, right?” Tess jokes, then she reaches out and nudges your shoulder when you look at her in horror, “I’ll be fine!”

John smiles as Tess gets in the backseat, then he looks over at you and reaches out for your hand, “She’ll be fine.”

You give John a smile as he begins to drive away, and you keep your eyes laser focused on his car as he swerves and spins around the lot. You smile when you hear Tess and Jimmy both laughing loudly, and you almost feel a little excitement to try it out yourself.

John’s tires skid across the cement as he swerves around an orange cone, and he revs his engine and speeds down to the edge of the lot where he quickly pulls a 360 and turns around. He playfully taps the horn as he drives back over to you, and you shake your head and laugh when he smiles at you.

Pulling up in front of you, John smiles and looks over at Tess as she moves her hair away from her face and laughs loudly, then he looks at you and raises his eyebrows.

“Ready now?”

“I think so.” you say quietly as you pick at your nails nervously.

John opens his car door and moves the seat so you can get in the back with Tess, then he looks at you as you walk closer to him. He places his hands on your waist and smiles tenderly at you before rubbing his thumb over your cheek and leaning down to kiss you.

“You’ll be fine, baby. I won’t let anything happen to you.” he whispers as you lean your head against his chest, then he rubs your back and watches as you get in the car. He gets back in and looks at you in the rearview mirror and smiles, “You’re gonna love this. I’ll take it slow.”

You feel Tess reach over for your hand as she smiles, and you look up at John through the rearview mirror to watch his face. The moment something goes wrong, you’ll know since you can read John’s face pretty well. He furrows his brow a little as he steps harder on the gas, and you immediately bury your face in your hands as Jimmy and Tess scream loudly with laughter.

“Hell yeah!” Jimmy screams when John goes a 360, and you hear John laugh.

The air smells of burnt rubber as John peels through the lot, and it jerks you around the backseat even though you’re wearing a seatbelt. You realize that you’re starting to laugh so you sit up a little and look at Tess as she laughs and smiles at you.

John finally stops the car and sits up to check on you, “You good?”

“I’m so fucking dizzy.” you laugh, and you smile when John reaches back for your hand. “But I won’t lie, it was a little fun.”

“Do another 360, man.” Jimmy says, and John looks at you in the rearview mirror for permission.

You look down to make sure your seatbelt is still on, then you laugh as you look up at John again, “Let’s go.”

__

taglist: @callmeglenncoco | @ficsnroses | @tnu-ree | @keanureevesisbae | @cheekybluefox | @hylianhbu | @tea-time-fun-posts | @star017 | @jessicajones616 | @sweetgoodangel | @aragornswife | @wheretheriversrunintothesea​

[lonelyreputation]

Cross The Line

A/N: Hiiii!! I know I said I would be posting angst next, but ha! Sike!!! Here’s a SMUT piece for ya! Ha! To the anon who requested this––So sorry that it's been so long  sljdflksd writing takes me a while and then you add smut (well, I added it in lmao) into the mix I tend to overthink alksjfld Keep your eyes peeled for some new fics!! I have a new chapter of C’est Toi, Different, and some other ones coming next week!

As always, let me know what you guys thought!! 💫 💗 Thank you to everyone for your immensely kind words!!! My heart is always filled to the brim with kindness by you lot 🥺

REQUEST: Stylist!ReaderxShawn // Friends to Something More

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: SMUT!!! LIKE ALL THE WAY SMUT THIS TIME!! AHH!!! 

Word Count: 7.2K

-

The excitement backstage was nothing like you had felt before.  After coming off a successful European leg of tour, with a two month break, everyone was reenergized.  Stagehands were high-fiving the merchandise team, the lighting director was laughing with the audio technician, and Andrew was playing tag with the band.

You were leaned up against the back wall with Connor, discretely listening in on Shawn’s fan Q&A before the show.

“What’s your favorite outfit that Y/n’s put together for you?”

At the sound of your name your postured straightened and Connor nudged an elbow into your stomach.  You turned your head to the side and whispered a harsh keep your hands to yourself.

“That’s not what you told Shawn the night of the last London show.”

You whipped your head to look at Connor, eyes wide, “You swore to never bring that up again.”

Connor’s smirk only widened as he turned his head back to face Shawn.  You followed his gaze and saw that he was looking down and twirling the white rose he held between his fingers, “Um…I liked the VMA outfit she dressed me in––The green suit.”

The crowd aww’d at his shyness while some let out little shrieks of joy as they clutched their friend’s hand.  Once Shawn looked up from the rose, cheeks nice and red, his eyes automatically landed on you in the back.  He offered you a secret smile as you shot your head down to look at your feet; both knowing exactly how that night ended with his suit on the floor.

“Did you miss her the most when you went on break?”

Connor nudged his elbow into your side again, and before you could silently tell him off again, Shawn’s soothing voice captured your attention.

“I mean yeah, sure––I––“ he was cut off by even more shrill screams of the fans when he admitted to missing you.  The fans sounded exactly how you felt on the inside, “––Of course I missed her, she’s one of my best friends,” more shrill screaming, “And like––I––I missed everyone––Connor, Andrew, Cez–––“

“But you missed her the most, right?”

Shawn’s eyes momentarily connected with yours for a minute before moving his soft eyes to meet the fan who cut him off, “I think it’s time for me to get ready for the show.”

With his avoidance of the question, the fans only squealed more––taking it as confirmation that yes, he did miss you the most––and Connor nudged your side once more.  You shot him a glare as you pushed yourself off from the wall with your foot.

“Some of us have to actually work, Connor.”

He let out a stifle of a laugh and shot you yet another mischievous glance, “I’m sure you’ll get plenty of work done dressing him down before the show.”

Connor scurried away out the door and down the hall as you stood in the back with your mouth hung open.  Sure, you and Shawn had some sort of relationship that challenged the line of friends or more, but he was your boss and you were his employee.  

Everyone turned a blind eye whenever Shawn threw an arm around you, pulled you in close to his side, and pressed a prolonged kiss to your cheek.  And everyone ignored you when you took extra time buttoning up his shirt.  Everyone––the fans, the crew, even Andrew––was conscious about the peculiar dynamic between the two of you, but no one ever said anything because you two knew not to never cross that line.

Shawn took a chance hiring you with only minimal experience on your resumé, fresh out of university with a fashion merchandising degree.  It started with shy smiles and Shawn bringing you a cup of tea made to your liking every time he saw you.  Then the nervous laughter turned into longing stares as he looked down at you shining his shoes.  And finally, after fixing the collar of his shirt, when you let your hands rest on his chest for a few seconds longer than normal, he ducked his head and kissed you.

It was quick.  A soft press of his lips against yours that happened so fast you didn’t process what had happened until he was a rambling mess in front of you.  He apologized at least a hundred times: I’m so so sorry, Y/n––I don’t know what I was thinking––I just thought that you––And I––I thought there was something between us––I’m so sorry––I crossed a line.

You let him collect his final thoughts as he let out a deep sigh of embarrassment, turning on his heels to dart out of the room and hide until the end of time, but you took hold of his hand before he could take a step away from you.  The seconds you held his hand gently in yours felt like hours as you held your breath.

You remembered how thick the air was with tension.  All of the secret glances and private touches led up to this moment.  With a shaky breath, you let out a whisper that rang through both of your ears, I think I feel something, too.

Not even a second later, Shawn took your face in both of his hands as he pressed a hard kiss to your lips.  It was everything a first kiss with someone new was; noses bumping against each other, a few awkward teeth clanks, and accelerated heart rates.  But with more time exploring one another, the two of you knew exactly what the other enjoyed between the sheets.

You were walking down the hall, on your way to Shawn’s dressing room, when a strong arm draped around your shoulder.  You felt a smile tug at the corner of your lips, knowing exactly who it was, as they fell into sync with your walking pace.

“What’s the hurry, roadie?”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname Shawn bestowed on you when you told him the horror story of telling your parents you would be traveling to work for him.  So, like a roadie? Your mother had said with a twinge of disdain in her voice, not fully believing that this was neither a viable source of income nor a stable career.

You brought an arm to wrap around his waist, “Just on my way to dress up a client.”

“Must be a pretty important client if you’re walking that fast.”

“Well,” you peered up at him and saw that he was looking straight forward with a smirk on his face, “Was maybe hoping to just have some time alone together before.”

Your voice was soft, wavering a little like the day you told him you felt something between each other for the first time.  Your voice didn’t imply that you wanted to do anything sexual with him, it was said with a more innocent tone, because you really did just want to spend some time alone with him.  The easy going and zen aura he manifested definitely had an effect whenever you spent time with him.

You felt at peace when you were in the same room as him.  You felt at ease when he sat next to you on the couch.  And you felt giddy whenever he slotted his hand between yours and played with your fingers.

You had begun to feel something way more than the excitement of a sexual relationship.  But you didn't know how Shawn felt.  You two never talked about your feelings for each other.  Of course you enjoyed each other’s presence a little too much, cared for each other a little more than how best friend’s cared for each other, and you thought a little more about what his words meant than just a regular friend.

You had crossed the line with your feelings.

“C’mon,” Shawn guided you toward the double doors that led out of the arena and to the parking lot with the tour busses.

Your movements held no objection as you let him direct you, but your voice was different, “But you have to get ready–––”

“I wear the same pair of jeans and white shirt,” Shawn looked down at you with a smile as you felt the heat of the Portland air on your skin, “I’ll be fine.”

“You do not wear the same pair of jeans every night,” you objected, “I make sure they get washed after every performance,” you glared at him as his tour bus came into view, “so if you’re wearing the same pair then we need to have a serious talk.”

Shawn let out a boisterous laugh as he detached his arm from around your shoulder to open the door.  You offered him a smile as a thank you and walked up the stairs into the familiar temporary home.

Shawn followed close behind you and swiftly closed the door.  You could feel your heart hammering in your chest with the silence.  You were always nervous to be alone with him, but with recognizing your newfound feelings for him, all thoughts of composure left your mind and you were left in a puddle of your emotions.

“You know I––I didn’t––” Your back was to him, but you still shut your eyes tight in embarrassment, “––I didn’t mean I wanted anything more when I said I wanted alone time with you.”

“I know,” his voice was deep as you heard it from behind.

“I just––I like spending time with you,” your arms hung stiffly at your sides, hands curling into fists so tight at your confession, that you knew there would be a dozen crescent moon shapes along your palm, “We don’t need to do anything.”

You could feel Shawn’s breath hit the back of your neck as he spoke, “I know.”

“But like––If you want to––We can do stuff because I like that too, but I––I just wanted you to know that I…” your words trailed off as you felt Shawn’s hands ghost over your own, simultaneously easing your nerves and heightening them all at once, “…I like the times when we don't do any of that stuff.”

“I like those times too.”

It was the closest thing to a confession of feelings shared between the two of you.

In a moment of confidence, you spun around to face him, scared to see his facial expression.  While Shawn was gifted in the way he expressed words, you knew him well enough to know that his facial expressions held the full truth.  So, when you glanced up at him, and he was looking into your eyes with the same amount of desperation and longing you had in yours, you took your confidence up to another level.

You looped your index finger into the gap above one of the buttons on his shirt and pulled him in for an innocent kiss, curling your other hand around his neck.

When you pulled back, he seemed to be in a bit of a dazed and dreamlike state, with his lips pink and slightly parted as his brown eyes stared affectionately into yours.  The look in his eyes alerted you to the fact that maybe he wanted this too.  Maybe he wanted to tiptoe across the line with you.  

“I like being with you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper as you spoke the words that both of you knew held a deeper meaning.  Your fingers continued to play with the curls at the nape of his neck, “You calm me down.”

Another moment of silence passed and you felt the nerves bubble up in your stomach.  But you knew that Shawn felt the same way, you could tell by looking into his eyes as you saw the mechanics whirling through his mind, debating on whether or not to cross the line.  

You were across the line and held out a hand for him to join you.

Just when you were about to retreat from the bus out of embarrassment that maybe he only wanted to be physical with you, he gathered you up and kissed you again, one hand on your cheek as it slid down your neck.  You were positive he could hear the beat of your heart as he slowly walked you backwards down the little living area and to his private room in the back.

You broke the kiss, “But soundcheck––”

“They can find someone else to sing into the mic,” he interrupted you, turning the knob of the door to the small bedroom.  The door flew open and Shawn reattached your lips as he rushed the two of you inside.  And then, as if there were prying eyes of eager fans who wanted to know every detail about his life around, he shut the door right behind him so that it was just the two of you in the room.

Alone for the first time since crossing the line.

Shawn wasted no time in taking your hips in his hands as he pressed you up against the door, attacking you with kisses.  The odd plastic material of the door was uncomfortable against your back, but with Shawn’s chest pressed up against yours, you didn’t mind it.

As if it would be the last time you kissed, the two of you weren’t holding back.  The kisses he gave you, that you reciprocated, were open-mouthed, rough, and fiery.  

In moments like these, it was your greatest desire to run your hands along his chest, to be as physically close to him as possible, to rest your hands on his chest to feel if his heartbeat was beating as fast as yours.  But with both of his hands pinning your arms down to your sides, Shawn made that impossible, and you were forced to keep your arms limp as he nipped down your neck.

But after a few shrugs of your shoulder, he released your arms and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tugging on his hair. Shawn was particular when people touched his hair, and your fingers were full of hesitance when they first combed through his curls, but from the guttural sound he made when you pulled his hair from your collarbone back up to your lips, you knew he wasn’t complaining about you messing up his hair.

As much as you wanted to feel him, you savored the feeling of him touching your body.  His fingers ran up and down your sides, tracing lines on your back, inching your dress up.  

Suddenly, as if the reality of the situation came crashing down on him, he pulled away from you and ran his own hand through his hair.  You didn’t have to feel his heartbeat to know that it was beating just as fast as yours.

While you weren’t pleased by the sudden loss of contact, you couldn’t help but feel the slow tug of a smile at the corners of your mouth as you looked at him.  His white collared shirt was wrinkled and half-way untucked from his black skinny jeans.  And his curls were sticking up in a few different directions.

“You still wanna do this?”

His voice wavered in uncertainty, just like it did the day he first kissed you.

You stepped forward, hooking your index fingers through his belt loops, as you tilted your head up to sneak another kiss away from him as your answer.  Finally, he crossed the line and was with you on the other side.

Shawn held your head in his hands, tucking your hair behind your ears as he dragged his tongue across your lip to tease you.  You could’ve done without the short and sudden break of his kisses, but you would do anything for him if it eased his nerves.  

There was a change of pace to the way he touched you.  Your heart was still beating at a pace that would worry some medical professionals, but you felt calm and a sense of control you hadn’t felt before.  Your fingers stumbled over his belt buckle as you somehow managed to unhook it, only breaking your kisses once to pull the belt out of the loops. You held the leather material loosely in your hands, as you let it it slip away, dropping to the floor of the tour bus carelessly, the clanking of the buckle was loud enough for both of you to jump.

“My bad,” you nervously laughed off your embarrassment.  Shawn pulled away slightly to stare at you.  A smile softly made its way onto his face as he tilted his head to look at you with adoration.  You felt hot under his gaze, but you didn’t mind the attention you were receiving from him.

Just like every time you had been together, you wanted to watch him come undone and know that it was you who caused him to feel that way.

Shawn’s eyes traveled up, smile widening as crinkles appeared in the corner of his eyes as he softly laughed at the flower crown tangled in your hair.  It took both of his hands to remove it, and when he found a strand of hair tangled on the stem of one of the flowers, he gently unraveled it.

“I thought it added a nice touch to my outfit, a fan gave it to me,” you said with a pout as Shawn placed the flower crown on the small table in the room, “Don’t you like to play dress-up?”

“No,” Shawn answered with a whisper, “I’m tired of games.”

There was something about his voice, a delicateness to it that held a certain amount of desperation––of exhaustion––that you wanted to make disappear.  

His tone was soon replaced with a boyish smile before he reattached your lips to his.  Both of you took your time, but the urgency in your kisses and touches didn’t go unnoticed.  Your fingers went to unbuttoning his shirt as you guided him to walk backwards to his bed.  Once the top half of the shirt was unbuttoned, you slid your hands inside, spreading the shirt open to pop off the rest of the buttons.  Shawn pulled his arms out one by one, as the shirt slowly slid off his shoulders, making sure that he always had a hand on your body.  Once his shirt was fully unbuttoned and hanging from the top of his jeans, you tugged on the tucked portion out of his pants to threw it on the floor.

“That shirt wrinkles easily,” Shawn easily smiled at you, “My stylist will have your head.”

You let out a humorless laugh as you ran your hands over his chest, “I hear if you ask her nicely she’ll do anything you say.”

His skin was warm like the summer air.

“Will she now?” His smile morphed into a smirk as you felt him fiddle with the zipper on the back of your dress.  You nodded your head as you felt him pull the zipper down your back in a teasingly slow manner only to zip it right back up.

He did that a few times and the control over him you felt before was dwindling away with every tug of the dress zipper.  Instead of surrendering and giving him the upper hand, you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him onto the bed.  Surprised by your act of boldness, he tilted his head up at you.  But you could see that he enjoyed whatever dynamic was happening from the mischievous glint that twinkled up at you.

You moved to stand in between his legs, looking down at him and mirroring the lust in his eyes, as he wrapped his hands around your thighs at your knees and dragged his hands up.  He never broke eye contact with you as his hands moved further up your thighs, disappearing under the material of your dress.

You urged Shawn to scoot back on the bed.  With your hands on his shoulders to keep balanced, you straddled him, resting your knees on either side of him.  You paused for a moment to run a hand through his hair before bending your head to capture his lips in a kiss.  Shawn’s hands gripped your waist, and with one hand inching up your back toward the zipper, he finally managed to bring the zipper all the way down.

But before your moment of intimacy could continue on, you pulled back and raised your eyebrows at him.  Shawn didn’t seem too pleased at the loss of contact, but didn’t press you any further than what you were comfortable with.

“Are you sure?”

You were giving him an out; he knew that.  And while you wanted nothing more to continue on with what was to come, first and foremost he was your boss.  You were on his payroll and you didn’t want to make things any more complicated than they already were.  Sure, the two of you had sex before, but this was crossing a line into uncharted territory with real feelings.

Your question caused his smile to falter a little.  But with a hoarse voice, he managed to soften his eyes as they stared into yours, doing his best to convey every word, “Really fucking sure.”

The way he looked into your eyes––like you held every inspiration to every one of his future songs and how his voice sounded like he was pleading with you to let him imoralitize every detail of this feeling on pen and paper––you almost surrendered.  You almost let him have complete control to do whatever he pleased to your body, just so you could really feel the true impact of his words.  But you didn’t want to wave a white flag just yet, so you motioned him to slide further back on the bed, placing a hand flat on his chest and pushed him down.

You had never been so forward with him, so direct in what you wanted, that a gasp escaped from his throat when his head hit the pillow.  Leaning over him, you lowered yourself down, pinning his arms by his biceps, much like he had done to you earlier against the door, and caught him in a kiss.  This time, your tongue dominated, exploring every inch of his mouth and softly biting down on his lower lip, dragging it away with you until you released it.

Shawn didn’t fight you, and you kept your grip on his biceps as you trailed kisses up his jaw all the way to his ear, nibbling on the lobe.  Your kisses up and down his neck were full of desire, licking and sucking your way down.  

Shawn sighed as you reached his collarbone, and when you peered up at him, his eyes were closed.  His body radiated with warmth, as you moved your lips slowly down his chest, as you released the grip you had on his arms to caress his chest.

As soon as his biceps were free from the constraints of your hands, Shawn gained the upper hand, and flipped you over so you were on your back.  He sat with his knees between your legs, with the lack of control you felt sheepish under him, but he offered you a shy smile that rekindled the light in your lower abdomen.

Shawn started at your knees, one hand on each, and ran his hands over your legs.  His eyes were bright and alluring, stare never faltering, as your body was on high alert, attentive as his fingers skimmed underneath your dress.

Even with the dress still on, you felt exposed, as he gripped your thighs with each hand and pulled you toward him.  Then he leaned down toward you, moving slowly between your legs and up your torso to give you another kiss.

“Y/n,” Shawn hummed as if not believing he was awake for this moment.  He slowly dragged down a strap of your dress and kissed the spot of your shoulder where it had previously laid, “We’re gonna do this?”

“I…I want to,” you admitted shyly, pulling your arm out of the strap.  Shawn helped you remove your other arm from the strap as you asked, “Do you want to?”

Shawn smiled, “I really want to.”  He sat up, pulling your dress up over your head so fast that you weren’t even sure how it happened until you felt a coldness over your exposed body.

Your dress was tossed carelessly on the floor, as Shawn leaned down to press his chest against yours.

“Cold?” Shawn mumbled as he kissed his way down your neck.

“Um…no,” you sighed in response to his gentle biting at your skin.  “You––You’re really warm.”

Shawn leaned over and pulled back the covers on the bed, and nodded for you to climb under the sheets, which you did without hesitation.  As your head hit the pillow, Shawn crawled in soon after, unclasping your bra as he glided the straps down your shoulders.

Your fingers fumbled with the button on his pants, which was a little hard considering how tight you were pressed up against each other under the covers.  But once you popped the button from his jeans off, Shawn wiggled his legs from out of his pants, flinging them aside.  There was a noticeable bulge in his boxer-briefs, and you sucked in a deep breath.  Your moment of shyness caused him to let out a small chuckle as he brought a hand to rest on your stomach.

“I kinda like it when you’re nervous,” Shawn whispered and nudged your feet apart, brushing his fingers along the waistband of your underwear.  He dipped his index finger below the waistband, gasping when he touched your skin.

“I’m––We’ve had sex before,” you tried to keep your voice even, but with his fingers dropping dangerously low, your voice wavered, “I’m not…nervous.”

Shawn shut his eyes and leaned down to press a peck on your lips. “Okay,” his words were muffled against your lips, as his fingertips lightly brushed over your crotch that was still covered by your underwear.  You shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold air.  He placed the hand on your waist to hold you in place as he leaned down to catch your lips in a heated kiss.  His tongue slid into your mouth with no reservations as his hand rubbed soft circles on the inside of your thigh.

His hand left your thighs and traveled upward, pressing a hand flat on you, watching you for your reaction to his touch.

You were crumbling like a cookie when he brought his hand to his mouth, sliding his index and middle finger between his lips.  You felt the anticipation building in your lower stomach.  He brought his fingers out of his mouth, raising his eyebrow and smirking at you, glowing with smugness.  Before you could criticize him for it, his hand slid under your underwear, with his wet fingers gliding over you in between your slit.

As if it was like you were on autopilot, your eyes closed, head falling back on the pillow as you started to feel the build up of the state of euphoria you knew Shawn was going to lead you to.  His fingers were agonizingly slow at first as they became acquainted with the sensitive area.  His movements were torturous as you bit your bottom lip to keep any obscene words from coming out.  Every time the pads of his fingers rubbed your clit, your breath got caught in your throat.

When your eyes opened, just for a millisecond, you should see that his eyes were only focused on you.  His eyes seemed just as intrigued by your reaction as you were with his fingers.  You brought a hand up onto his shoulder, slowly moving it to the back of his neck to hold you for support, bringing him down for a kiss that you instantly deepened.  Shawn made that sound again, a content grunt in the back of his throat, as you felt the feeling of the bulge grow against your thigh.

Still breathing heavily, Shawn broke the kiss, but still had his fingers working down below.

“I want you,” he breathed, lips against your ear.  And from the way his fingers skimmed over you with ease, slippery and coated, he knew just how much you wanted him. 

Before you could verbalize your desire for him, his arm tightened around you as he pushed your thighs further apart with his knee.  His middle finger began to move in circles over your clit, gentle at first, then increasing in pressure.  You threw your head back onto the pillow, clenching your jaw tight to hold off the sounds you knew he wanted you to make.  But when the speed of his fingers increased, you opened your eyes and were automatically met with his determined eyes staring into yours, you couldn’t fight the moan that escaped your lips.  You brought an arm up to curl around his neck to lift yourself up slightly from the bed as you buried your head into the crook of his neck to muffle the sound of your moans.

When Shawn removed his finger from beneath your underwear for a split second you groaned into his neck, missing the contact of his skin on yours when you were so close to a release.  He took his wrist and rolled it to stretch it out and then his hand dipped right back in as you pressed a kiss to his neck.

His movements were a little sloppier with his tired hand, but the feeling in your lower stomach began to build faster and faster with every flick of his wrist.  A tingly feeling started out on the tip of your toes and spread further and further up your body, making all of the hair on your body stick up.  

When you finally felt it––the tensing of your muscles and a euphoric release all at once––you threw your head back on the pillow, bringing Shawn down with you, as your hips bucked against his hand.  But his movements didn’t stop there, he kept his finger circling your clit, encouraging you to ride out your high.

You were not a stranger to Shawn making you feel like you were on top of the world, but something about confirming your mutual want for each other beyond a little fun here and there, made your orgasm earth shattering.  You felt it rip through your body that left you in a puddle on the bed.  Shawn slowed down his movements, hooking his fingers around the band of your underwear, helping you shimmy out of them.  In one swift movement, he discarded your underwear somewhere around the room and removed his own.

Once he kicked his legs to get his underwear off from around his ankles he trapped you in a kiss, grinding his body against yours, not shy about his growing hardness brushing against the inside of your thigh.

With a lazy smile, he pulled away from the kiss as he lifted his body from yours, reaching over to the small night stand next to the bed.  He fumbled his hand inside the drawer, “Where is it––Fucking thing––Got it,” he slammed the drawer closed with a bang as he retrieved the condom, ripped the package open, and left the wrapper on the night stand.  

As you watched him slip the condom on, all you could think of was how many times you found yourself in this position; lying beneath Shawn, forehead glistening with a bit of sweat, as you felt a shiver shake your body at what was about to happen.

Shawn leaned down, leaving a trail of kisses up your stomach before meeting your lips.  His warmth spread over you, bringing a slight relaxing effect to your nerves.  Your breaths were shallow, chest rising and falling rapidly.  Shawn noticed your nerves and paused, the tip of his shaft against your opening.

“Everything’s alright,” he lightly brushed his lips against yours in reassurance.

Shawn waited until he got a nod in confirmation from you before he continued, and in one swift motion, he slid in with ease.  You scrunched up your nose and screwed your eyes shut as you felt him push himself further into you.  It was a pleasurable sensation, but you couldn’t deny the little bit of pain you felt as he stretched your walls.

When Shawn saw the expression on your face, he slowed down his movements, letting out a grunt as he came to a complete stop, “Okay?”

There was a tenderness behind his words from the way he checked in on you to make sure you were comfortable.  He had always been gentle and kind with you in the past, but this felt more special.  And the more you looked up at his face, with his eyebrows scrunched together in concern, it planted a seed of confidence in your stomach to try something neither of you had done in the bedroom together; you lightly pushed at his chest for him to get off you.

Before he could get a word  past his lips, you sat up and swung one of your legs over his waist.  You took his cheeks into your hands, and when Shawn realized what you were doing, a smirk grew on his face.  He propped himself up on his elbows, moving back on the bed a bit, as you placed your hands on his shoulders.

Without another word, you lowered yourself onto him, Shawn trying his best to keep his eyes open and connected with yours.

But when you sunk fully down onto him, he screwed his eyes tight, throwing his head back against the flimsy tour bus headboard, “Shit.”

You kept one hand on his shoulder as the other trailed up to hold his cheek in your hand, thumb grazing his jawline as you felt it tighten. You moaned softly, neither one of you saying a word, as your fingernails dug into his shoulder.

With the new position you found yourself in, you had more of a sense of control than any of the other times you were intimate with him.  It was something you liked.  You were moving, up and down, at a rhythmic pace, as Shawn ran his fingers up and down your thighs.  He placed a hand on your waist, keeping you in position as he moved further back on the bed.  

Your movements were faster and Shawn pressed a quick kiss to your lips as he lowered his head and placed his lips over your breast.  If it wasn’t for Shawn’s hand on your hip, encouraging you to keep up with your movements, you would have stopped right then and there.  Your mouth hung open as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipple, at a loss for words, you ran your fingers through his curls and pulled on them a little.  Shawn moaned against your breast in pleasure, sending vibrations throughout your body.  

Shawn lifted his head and placed a sweet kiss below your ear, “Relax.”  His voice was soft, but seeing as you two were still connected at the hips, his voice was thick.

You hadn’t realized that your breathing was sharp and uneven.  You stilled your hips and pressed a hand against your chest, as you tried to calm down your breathing. You were more embarrassed about your erratic breathing than you were about being naked on top of him.  He had seen you naked before, but never had he seen you nervous quite like this.

“I…” You were racking your brain for an excuse, but with a quirk of his eyebrow and a soft smile, you knew any lie you told would be detected by him, “I’m nervous.”

Shawn smiled and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek before wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you in for a hug.  His calloused fingers ran up and down your spine as you buried your head in the crook of his neck, taking in a deep, shaky breath.

“It’s alright,” Shawn whispered into your ear, fingers still delicately dancing on your back, “Trust me.”

He pressed a few kisses on your shoulder before you nodded your head against him.  You trusted him a lot.  More than you probably should.  With your confirmation, Shawn pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head and wrapped a strong arm around your waist as he swiftly flipped you over onto your back.

Without a slight notion of hesitation, Shawn thrusted back into you, so deep that you clenched your teeth and pressed your head deep onto the pillow.  You gasped as he pulled out, and when he thrusted back into you again, sharp and quick, you parted your lips, "Shawn.”  

Shawn’s pace was faster than yours, but his thrusts were still careful and executed perfectly as he hit the right spot every time.  You let out a sigh of content at the sensation of being joined together with another person––a person you cared deeply about.

He kept himself hovered over you with a hand fisting the white sheets right by your head, and hooked his other arm under your thigh, wrapping it around his waist.  He held your thigh in place as he continued his fast thrusts. The only sound you heard in the tiny back room of the tour bus were the mixed gasps of air shared between the two of you and the slap of skin as Shawn repeatedly pushed into you.

Your head started to spin as you felt your stomach tighten, reaching your peak.  Shawn had taken the words right from you since he stood behind you when you first walked onto the tour bus.  So, as you struggled to keep the lewd sounds of your orgasm to a minimum, you tried to keep your eyes locked with the brown irises above you.  His eyebrows were scrunched together as he bit on his bottom lip, concentrating on every thrust of his hips as they collided with yours.

His eyes were soft, trailing down your body and then back up to stare into your eyes.  You brought a hand up to his forehead and pushed back the curls that were slightly sticking to hid skin from the thin layer of sweat.  He sucked in a breath of air as you felt the pads of fingers tighten around your thigh.

“Y/n.”

You could feel when he hit his high; voice sounding desperate, as his pace became quicker and sloppier as he lowered himself until your chests were pressed together.  He nuzzled his head into your neck, pressing hot open kisses up and down your throat.

You grabbed a fisful of his curls as he continued to slowly rock back and forth until he completely stalled his movement inside of you.  He released a deep breath, hot and full of pure content at the conclusion of your little activity, and raised his head to look into your eyes.  Shawn reached a hand up and ran his fingers over your hairline before softly tracing his fingers down the side of your face, cupping your cheek.

With your chests still stuck together by sweat, he only had to lower his head a few centimeters to brush his lips against yours.  The kisses were intimate, soft like a kid chasing a butterfly on a warm spring afternoon, before he changed the pace and captured your lips in a deep kiss.  The hold he had on your thigh dropped as he trailed his hand from the tops of your thigh, giving your hips a light pinch that had you squirming under him, and then slid his hand up to rest on your ribcage, just below your breast.

Your thoughts were wildly running around, basking in the feeling of being fully consumed by him.  

You were consumed by the feeling of the blazing trail his touches left on you.  Consumed by his voice, saying your name with all the care and wonder in the world, but also in a tone that you would never want your parents to hear.  Consumed by the taste of his salty skin as you pressed kisses along his neck and the smell of freshly washed clothes mixed with sweet post-sex. But most of all, you were consumed by the sight of the boy on top of you; eyes always searching yours to make sure you were comfortable.

It felt like you didn’t know how to breathe until this moment.

When he pulled out of you, there was a shy smile toying on his face.  He looked nothing like the previous times when the two of you had just finished having sex.  In those moments in the past, he would have a satisfied and confident smirk on his face, knowing he made you feel better than anyone else.  But even with his confidence, he still had those soft eyes though.

Soft eyes and a shy smile.

Shawn removed the condom and tossed it in the trash can that was next to his bed, crawling back under the covers.  He laid on his side, head resting on the pillow to face you, as he wiggled under the covers, getting in a comfortable position.

“Hi,” he said with a smile on his face.

You found his hand under the covers and slotted your fingers through his as you returned his soft smile, “Hey.”

Shawn gave your hand a slight squeeze and the two of you fell into silence staring at each other.  Normally, being under someone’s gaze, especially Shawn’s, would cause you to shudder back.  But not this time.  You felt the complete opposite; the more he stared at you, the more you felt desired––more confident.

He untangled your hands, and at first you were sad about the loss of contact, but he threw an arm over your waist and pulled you in close to his chest, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.  You fitted your arm around him and smiled into his bare chest, because yes, while holding hands is a nice gesture, it didn’t hold a flame to the feeling of leaning against his chest; your head rising and falling with his rhythmic breathing as your heartbeat tried to sync up with his.  While you felt the erratic beating of his heart, you were having trouble getting your heartbeat to slow down for him.

Maybe your heart would always beat a little faster for him.

[thirium-fiction]

Be Back Soon (Markus x Reader)

Word Count: 3k+

Request:  Maybe a Markus fic where reader works at CyberLife but secretly helps repair deviants?

A/N: AhHhh this request was so interesting! I chose to use the violent revolution route for Markus because it worked better. I had some fun with this one and I’m pretty proud of it despite getting a little carried away with the background. I’m sorry I just love giving huge amounts of content for a story!

Warnings: Slight swearing and angst

-

You had worked for CyberLife for awhile now, having been close friends with Elijah Kamski when he was younger and was just getting started with studying androids and his business. The two of you first met in college and you heard all about the 12-year-old who got into the University of Colbridge. It was practically unbelievable when you first heard about it. You worked your ass off to get to where you were at 18 and when you found out a pre-teen did the same? It’d be a lie to say that it didn’t cause a little bit of jealousy. But, he turned out to be a pretty kind kid. Sure, he had a bit of an ego to him considering he was among some of the top students in the United States and they were all older than him. Yet he still knew when to draw the line if he wanted to make connections for his future company.

And that’s how Elijah began to connect with you.

Both of you were studying AI when he noticed your inability of accepting the possibility that any form of artificial intelligence could be nothing more than what their creators designed them to be. It was an extremely dangerous mindset that you had considering how advanced technology was becoming. The idea that androids were just machines was safe. Didn’t you want to be safe? Considering how many verbal debates you’ve gotten into over the subject, apparently not. 

As a matter of fact, your stubbornness on the subject granted you the ability to help with Elijah’s Turing test for Chloe. You did it once through a computer, asking a series of questions for both Chloe, who was pretending to be human, and the actual human who had to convince you they were the actual person and not an android. Chloe passed with flying colors and you were shocked to realize that you assumed the human was an android.

You did another form of the same test but in person this time to see how she’d look in public situations around others. You had never met Chloe so you had no idea what she looked like. Another female was in the room and had to convince you once again that she was the human while Chloe did the same. Chloe’s expressions and responses were just - so -  natural. It really solidified your idea that machines can be so much more. But, people can just refute you by saying that Elijah designed her to make you believe that.

Nevertheless, she fooled you again and was the first android to pass the Turing test in 2022.

CyberLife began pumping out androids to the public like never before. People were willing to spend thousands of dollars just so they didn’t have to do “extras” like chores, caring for family, transportation, and other forms of work. And once humans got their hands on them, they practically became children and destroyed what was meant for them to enjoy. It was sickening what you’ve seen them do and how openly they’d talk about such abuse. You tried going to Elijah multiple times about the problem you’ve seen.

“There’s nothing I can do.” He would say to you like always. “I can’t control what people decide to do with their product.”

“They’re not products!” You’d shout at him, infuriated by how he was handling the situation yet again. 

Then he’d leave the room without saying anything else. 

Elijah became increasingly more distant once he heard about Amanda’s death during February of 2027. You knew they had been extremely close with her being his mentor along with being his professor as well. She was your professor too but they had a bond that you were never able to form with her. And, not more than a year later, the CEO of CyberLife resigned from his position and left out of the blue. He never told you of his plans or where he was going. He left a simple sticky note on his desk addressed to you that read:

I’ll be back soon.

It’s been ten years and there was still no word from him.

So, you continued life how you usually would. You went to work for CyberLife as a normal manufacturing employee under a new boss (who was a complete jackass). But, as time went by, more and more “deviants” started to make the news. They were always badly damaged after escaping the their owners after injuring/and or killing them so they would stand out from a crowd. You knew the media was purposefully blocking out the part where they were doing it out of self-defense. Humans couldn’t possibly be held accountable at all.

You had enough of the bullshit.

Every once in awhile, these deviants would find their way back to the CyberLife warehouses. You occasionally had some manufacturing work to be done there so you spent some of your shifts around those branches. Those androids who were luckily enough to make it that far were usually in dire need of biocomponents to keep themselves going. You’d catch them trying to steal whatever they could get their hands on but instead of reporting them like you should, you decided you could help them instead. They were always frightened at first, afraid you’d turn on them or take them apart right then and there. You always made sure to make them feel at ease through the process of repairment. If there wounds were too great, you offered them the option to continue or to stop. Some would carry on despite knowing they had little time left while others gave up on the table right in front of you. 

It wasn’t long until more and more heard of your name and looked for you as a source of safety. Eventually, it reached a point where hiding them became increasingly difficult. It was hard to take care of multiple beaten up androids in one night while also having to get your work done. There have been a couple close calls where you had to convince your coworkers you were just fixing up regular androids for clients. You could only use the same excuse for so long if the only robots you were repairing were horribly beaten. 

It was saddening how many came your way looking for some type of assistance. If they were comfortable enough, they’d tell you why they ran away in the first place. After that, some would let you know that their plan was to find Jericho and meet Markus himself. 

Ah, Markus. 

You had heard of the android hero before. He was practically a wanted criminal across the United States because of his revolution. His face was all over the news after his speech and fires and violent riots followed not long after. He was an intimidating and scary figure to most humans but you couldn’t help but understand where he was coming from. For years, androids have been beaten down and oppressed by society because they were seen as less than to humans. It wasn’t surprising that he was angered by it. 

You never would’ve guessed you’d come face-to-face with such a legend, however. 

You were walking around the warehouse lot, enjoying a bit of fresh air after having been inside forever from loads of paperwork. It was dark out and luckily the area had some pretty substantial lighting or else you would’ve been left completely blind to your environment. Yet, it wasn’t enough for you to notice the figures running towards you in the distance. You didn’t even realize you weren’t alone until you heard footsteps closer behind you. Expecting some of your regular coworkers, you put a tired smile on your face and turned around but immediately froze once you saw a familiar pair of determined blue and green eyes. 

“It’s you.” You whispered in awe, your heart racing in both excitement and slight fear. “Both the hero and the terrorist.”

Markus just barely tensed at your words, not ever having planned to be labeled as a terrorist by anyone. He’s heard it through the media numerous times but someone doesn’t ever really get used to that sort of thing.

The redheaded woman next to him (who you knew was also an android from your experience with them) walked up to him and gently grabbed his arm. “I don’t trust this. They’re human, Markus. They can easily report us to the authorities. We should find help somewhere else.” She muttered, turning her head away so you couldn’t really tell what she was saying.

The RK200 pulled his arm away from her grasp before returning his attention back to you. “You’re (Y/N), correct?”

You nodded, still shocked to be in the presence of such a figure among the potential future of artificial intelligence. “In the actual flesh.” You laughed, trying to ease your own nervousness more than anything. When no laughs were thrown back at your sad excuse of a joke, you cleared your throat and stood tall. “U-Uh, yes. I’m (Y/N).”

Markus glanced between his group of friends and the woman gave him a look of disapproval. He gave her an apologetic look back before hesitantly stepping out of the way to reveal an injured PL600 being carried by a PJ500 model. “We need your help.” He said quickly, looking around to make sure there was no one nearby. When he noticed your lack of response, he gave you a pleading look. “Please.”

You blinked a few times and rubbed your face before slightly shaking your head. “If you were caught here, I couldn’t possibly fathom what would -” Your eyes fell on the blonde android in front of you, blue thirium slowly oozing out between his fingers as he held his wound. You could tell this wasn’t his first rodeo with injuries. Actually, all of them seemed experienced with this type of situation. Taking a deep breath, you finally nodded and ushered them to follow you. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do. But, I can’t guarantee anything.”

You saw Markus’ shoulders relax and he gave you a kind smile with a nod as a thanks. Your heart skipped a beat at such a sight. He was actually quite handsome and whoever had him before he became deviant must’ve been very lucky. 

You led them into a discreet room towards the back of the warehouse with a table in the middle of it. Everyone knew that’s where you worked for the most part so not many ever came by to interrupt you. It was surrounded with different materials for your operations with an apron in the corner, perfectly clean as if it wasn’t covered in blue blood many times before. 

Thank God for thirium evaporation. You would’ve been given away a long time ago if it wasn’t for that. 

“Set him down there, please.” You ordered, pointing to the table as you turned your back to them and put the apron on. Once you tied the knot behind you, you swiveled around and froze at the amount of androids in the room. Four. You rarely ever got to experience more than one at a time when deviants would come to see you. Sighing, you shuffled over to the door and leaned outside, taking one last survey of the area to see if anyone was around before closing it and locking it. 

You noticed the PJ500 model and the woman stand by each other in the corner away from you as Markus stood over the injured android. You put on a pair of surgeon gloves and walked over to the table that was already starting to be stained blue. “Can I ask what the rest of your names are?” You ask, breaking the heavy silence in the room.

“Simon…” The PL600 grunted as you slowly removed his hand away from his covered wound to inspect what happened.

The other man in the corner in the room was next to reply. “Josh.”

The girl was last and the most cautious. It was obvious she still didn’t trust you despite having heard a lot about you from the others back at Jericho. You were human after all.

“And that’s North.” Markus said on her behalf, his gaze lingering on her a bit as sort of a ‘knock it off’ before he looks at Simon once more. “We’re not used to this kind of...treatment from a human. We’ve all had out fair share of unpleasant encounters with them. So, going to one for help is certainly new for us.” 

You chuckle a bit before grabbing a pair of tweezers nearby and gently moving the skin and parts around inside the wound, trying to find what you were looking for. “It’s alright.” You shrugged, feeling your tool knock into something small and hard. “You guys aren’t the first to be suspicious of my intentions.”

“Hey, Markus.” Josh piped up from his corner. “North and I are gonna stand outside on watch. That alright?”

The leader gave them a small nod. “Just be careful.”

You waited until they left to continue speaking. “I’m surprised careful is still in your vocabulary considering how much trouble you’ve gotten yourselves into.”

A snort came from Simon at your remark which was a little jarring to you. You had to remind yourself they couldn’t feel physical pain like humans can. Once you pulled out the object from his wound, it healed like usual (must’ve been clogging his system) and you handed him a cup of blue liquid for him to drink to replenish what he lost. He took it and thanked you softly before downing it in a blink of an eye. When he was finished, he stood up and swiftly placed the cup back in your hands.

“You truly are a miracle worker like they say.” Simon states, a gracious expression on his face as he give you a little bow. “Thank you.”

You watched as he left the room to meet with the others with only a slight limp. It was obvious he was much more gentler than the people he was around. Almost like a lost child.

“I’d like to thank you once again as well.” Markus said, his tall stature causing him to hover over you. “We would’ve lost many of ours if it wasn’t for you.”

“How could I deny a legend?” You smirk, beginning to put away your tools so it can at least look a little tidier for the next deviant that comes along.

He raised his eyebrows briefly, breaking eyes contact with a smile of his own before he paused, suddenly overwhelmed with confusion. “All humans hate us.” His statement made you stop in the middle of putting an item away and face him. “What’s stopping you from doing the same?”

You pursed your lips in thought, having never considered the possibility of you hating androids like others have. “Have all humans been terrible in your experience?”

The question made Markus’ stare fall to the floor in sadness once he remembered his time with Carl. “No, actually. Quite the opposite.”

“The same goes for humans with androids. People are scared of what they don’t know.”

“We’re scared of what we do know, (Y/N). You’re one of the few who actually sees us for what we are. The rest will never understand.”

“They won’t understand if you don’t give them a chance to.” You whipped out your phone and pulled up an image from online and showed it to him. “They will never give you a chance if they see this.”

Fire. Chaos. Screaming. Crying. Deviants. Humans.

That’s what was on the screen. 

You were showing him a result of one of his many riots from a different perspective.

“They will only see you as an enemy, if they haven’t already, if you continue things this way.”

Markus gently pushed the screen away from him and stepped away from you. “I came here for help and I received it. I don’t need a lecture along with it.” He shook his head, hatred making its way across his features. “You spend years researching what I live everyday. Even you will never truly see what it’s like for us. Do not tell me what is right from wrong.”

He began walking towards the door before you stopped him with a hold on his wrist. “What was your life like before all this?”

His back was to you, not even bothering to turn around. “I was Carl Manfred’s android.”

You let out a little gasp and quickly dropped your grasp on him. You’d seen the articles about the famous artist losing his life to a heart attack. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Markus moved his head to the side to look at you, still not turning fully. “He’d still be alive if humans hadn’t gotten in the way.” His shoulders fell, his determined leader facade beginning to crack. “If only I hadn’t listened. If I had pushed back and not endured. He’d still be here.” 

That’s when he decided to face you fully, revealing the worn down look on his face. The weight of a whole revolution showing itself in one single expression. 

“Now, I’m fixing that mistake.” He hissed, a fiery look in eyes. “I’m pushing back.”

Despite the fact you barely knew him, you wanted to reach out and hold him, letting it know it was gonna be alright. And somehow you suspected that he knew that’s what you were thinking, and he backed away from you once more.  

“I don’t need your pity.”

The android made his way to the door, his long coat flowing behind him triumphantly despite him being so tired (or, at least, what tired would be for an android). You resisted the urge to call out to him and ask him to stay. There was so much more about him that you wanted to know. But, you knew deep down that he’d might not ever feel comfortable enough to share what he’s truly been through with someone like you. A human. 

He gave you one last purposeful look before leaving you with the last words that Elijah gave you before his disappearance.

“I’ll be back soon.”

-

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[dudeandduchess]

Sanemi x F!S/O: Slow Burn (Modern AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: Sanemi wants to get married immediately for personal reasons, and it just so happened that a feisty woman at a restaurant caught his eye. Little did he know that she was going to be his future boss— and even knowing that didn’t stop him from wanting to pursue her. Cue (Y/n), whose siblings are all meddlesome and bratty; enough to tell their father that she had a boyfriend, just for laughs. Not wanting to disappoint him with the thought of her living the rest of her life by herself, she sets out to find the perfect fake boyfriend. Note: This was written waaaay back in 2017, but it never saw the light of day. But I rewrote it for Sanemi, and here it is now. This is only the first part, since i initially planned it to be a three-part fic. But, enjoy, bbys. Hopefully I get to writing part 2 soon. It really depends on your feedback. Haha. Words: 6,252

Warnings: This is more OC-insert than reader-insert. Weird kitchen terms will fly. Which is why I want to scrap the idea altogether, but not without sharing it first.

***

Being away from home was always hard; not only did the person that was away miss the people closest to them, but also felt like they were wedging a gap between themselves and all of their loved ones as time went by. The longer someone was away from home, the bigger the gap grew, and the clearer it was to them that life moved on without them in the picture.

It hurt— of course it did— because it felt like everyone that that person left behind had forgotten about them, like they had become insignificant. But life did go on, even for those who had been the ones to leave— still, that didn’t erase their longing for days long past when their world seemed a much smaller, and marginally simpler place.

Almost nine years had passed since (L/n) (Y/n) moved away from her home to pursue her dreams. She wasn’t going to sugar-coat her story and tell people that she struggled financially while studying at Les Roche International in Switzerland for her Bachelor’s Degree in Hospitality Management, nor was she going to lie and say that she got into the New York campus of the Culinary Institute of America after so many setbacks.

She had been, however, downplaying her lifestyle after getting her associate degree for culinary arts at CIA. It was like she was leading a double life that the friends she made, while flitting from kitchen to kitchen, didn’t know about.

At 25, she had moved to Tokyo by herself to work at the city with the most Michelin Stars in the world; and now that she was at the cusp of turning 27, she was still in the same city, and the same restaurant, with the same one Michelin Star award— but she was a chef de partie now, which just meant more work for her.

Her one-year experience spent working in America after culinary school was a walk in the park compared to working for her current restaurant— well, three restaurants, if one were to be technical about things. Back at her old kitchen in the west, there was a full staff— and a very low employee turnover rate; in fact, it was rare to have people quit back there.

But her current place was— most possibly— worse than what everyone imagined when they heard the term ‘hell on Earth’. It was so bad that it was a regular sight to see people on the line quit on the spot, once they were so deep in the shits during service. She could have always left along with the others before her, but she found a perverse sense of joy from surviving in such a toxic workplace.

Not to mention the fact that she got to rub elbows with some of the best chefs from all over the world, when they came in as guests for one of the three restaurants.

The breakdown of the restaurants was the fine dining restaurant (where the Michelin Star was awarded), a gastropub, and a sub-kitchen for the events that they catered— as well as for those guest chefs that came in once a month for an entire week. The restaurant was huge— spanning 14,500 square feet, as well as a having a basement level where all the nitty gritty parts of the kitchen were.

When she first started there, she felt so exposed in the expansive open kitchen, that allowed the guests in the gastropub to see the hot line in the kitchen; while the pastry and garde manger stations were tucked away behind the wall, that separated the kitchen from the fine dining restaurant.

She couldn’t find a perfect way to describe the layout because it was just that big but, basically, the fine dining restaurant was tucked away from all the commotion— and people had to pass through a tunnel of sorts to get there.

While the gastropub housed both an open bar and the open kitchen, the event spaces as well as the sub-kitchen were hidden away at a loft-type space. It was so confusing to get around at first, but she eventually got used to it.

And now here she was, enjoying the last five minutes of peace of her supposed lunch break standing at the sauté station— her new station— and staring at the 22-quart Cambro filled with freshly-made Mornay, that she had almost shouted at one of the sous chefs about.

She was just lucky that she came in three (unpaid) hours early for work, because she wanted to get ahead on her prep; so she had enough time to squeeze in making the mornay with the other hundred things she had to do.

With such a big kitchen and a lack of people, everyone ended up stealing each other’s prep— whether it was for a VIP, or a party, or basically whatever that needed to be made. As long as it was in the walk-in fridge, it was fair game.

She was just happy to finally have been taken out of garde manger because— even if the station was meant for two people since it was prep-heavy (four if you count the two other people needed to take care of the parties)— she had been stuck working it by herself for the past five months.

“(Y/n), did you go on break yet?” The executive sous chef yelled from the pass— which was basically the area where their executive chef stood and expedited food during service; and just behind the pass was the stairs leading down to the basement floor. They also had an elevator, which was extremely helpful… when it wasn’t out of service.

“I am on break, chef,” the (h/c) haired girl answered with a laugh— when she just wanted to punch the guy square in the face, since he was the one who had used up the 14 quarts of Mornay that she had in the upstairs walk-in fridge yesterday.

“You know you shouldn’t be working, right?” The man asked her with a sardonic tilt of his head, that made (Y/n) want to scream. Just because he was higher up in the ranks than her made him think that he was the shit when, in fact, he was just shit— shit at his job, and shit as a person.

I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. She repeated her age-old mantra in her head, and then answered, “I know, chef. I’m-” the apology was about to slip from her lips when she caught it. “It won’t happen again, chef.”

“Make sure it doesn’t.” One of the banes of her existence called out before going down the stairs.

“Oui, chef!” (Y/n) cried, gritting her teeth afterwards, so she could hold back the snarky comeback that was threatening to spill from her lips. Really, she loved her job, but it was pricks like that who stressed her out.

And so, she took a deep breath and exhaled it in one strong gust— refocusing her mind so that she would be ready for the five parties up in the lofts, as well as the 250 covers that they had in the fine dining restaurant.

*** 

“Fire trio!” The executive chef, a 37-year old man from Florida (that used to be fit when he first arrived at the restaurant a year ago), called out from the pass— marking the ticket in his hand and tucking it into the slider bar mounted to the steel shelf that was mounted to the ceiling.

Everyone called out a loud chorus of ‘Oui’ in response.

Trios were there appetizer, and those got sent to the table before anything else, so it was synonymous with ‘another table just sat down’.

(Y/n) kept on making the orders that she had on her board, often moving from her stove to the Josper oven to put sauté pans with food inside. She was running out of burners on the stove, and it was starting to piss her off.

From behind her, the ticket machine whirred to life and started printing out an extremely long ticket. She internally groaned, before picking up one of the sauté pans on her stove and giving the mushrooms in it a little toss.

And all of that was happening while she had another ticket in her hand— memorizing all of her items on it.

“Order in! Four soup, two kale salads on the fly!” Whoever was serving the table on this ticket must have hated her, because she was already in the shits without any orders of their version of vichyssoise. But they just had to recommend the fucking thing now.

“Oui, chef! Four soup on the fly! Give me three minutes, chef!” (Y/n) yelled in a gruff voice— letting her frustration out in a non-hostile manner as she practically threw the pan of mushrooms in her hand, into the Josper behind her to cook them further.

Her brain was buzzing with so many things that she had to remember— the mushrooms in the Josper, the pan of broccolini she put in before the mushrooms, the truffle gnocchi that she still had to make in the next five minutes, and all of the other dishes from her station that needed to be up for the next table.

Sometimes even she amazed herself when she managed to finish a busy night, without getting yelled at even once.

“171 up at 15,” the executive chef yelled once more, and (Y/n) clicked her tongue as she hurriedly heated up the soup, while simultaneously plating her orders on that ticket— since it was already 7:14, so she had only a minute to get that done.

“Where’s my soup!? How long here, chef?”

“One minute, chef!” Her head was pounding with so much stress, but she pushed through it by taking all the food she had for table 171, and parked them beneath the heat lamps at the pass— calling out ‘hot, behind’ frantically at almost the top of her lungs.

“Fuck my life.” (Y/n) grumbled under her breath, as she plated up the dry components for the soup. She then grabbed her quenelle spoon from its secluded bain to make rochers of whipped crème fraîche. And once those were done, she poured the soup into four tiny, ceramic pitchers, before putting everything up at the pass. “Soup at the window, chef!”

No answer came, which was normal, so the (h/c) haired girl kept on cooking whatever was printed out on the new tickets that came in. It wasn’t until she picked up one of the pans on her stove that she froze.

She wanted to scream and let go of the pan because she had forgotten that she had just taken it out from the Josper, yet she couldn’t let it go, because it was filled with the truffle gnocchi. So, she slammed it down on the steel countertop beside her before she waved her right hand around.

There was a nice, clear burn mark where the piping hot steel handle had touched her skin, and she clicked her tongue as she resumed working; trying to ignore the pain as she put up ticket after ticket.

***

Shinazugawa Sanemi had been watching her all night from his table, that was a mere few feet away from where she was working.

The moment that he sat down and turned to watch the show inside the kitchen, his gaze instantly gravitated towards her. She didn’t stick out because she was a woman, no, he was used to seeing women not being forced into gender roles now— but she stuck out because of the way that she moved in there. She held herself with so much poise and grace, that it looked like she was gliding across the floor at times, all while yelling in a brusque tone.

He took a sip of his beer and licked his lips— eyes never leaving her. It was so obvious that she was getting overwhelmed with the influx of orders bombarding her every second, but he was impressed with the way she handled all of that pressure with a mere furrow of her brows here and there; until she burned her hand.

Sanemi expected her to stop the show to ask for help, and he chuckled in mild disbelief when she merely shook her right hand, before picking up where she had left off.  It was as if nothing had happened.

That woman was really something, and his curiosity was piqued.

Sanemi had to admit that he had been lacking female company as of late, because of four things; namely:

He had gotten tired of sleeping with his flings, because they always expected more than one night.

No woman had a personality that kept him interested for longer than a week, as every single one of them had a heart like a marshmallow— too soft and sweet.

No one could put up with his abrasive personality, and most importantly…

He wanted to get married. The sooner, the better.

Part of his desire to get married was because his younger brother, Genya, was already engaged and getting married next year— so he wanted to get another thing over his brother. He had been taught better than to think of a life commitment as a means for a competition, but he simply didn’t care: he wanted to have what his brother always said was unparalleled happiness.

But the more pressing issue was that… he was starting to feel lonely. He didn’t make a habit of getting jealous, but he found himself going green with envy whenever his married staff— both from his previous company and the new one— mentioned even the simplest night with their respective wives. He wanted that for himself as well.

Hell, he was prepared to pay any amount to any woman that could keep up with him, just so she would marry him. But maybe he was doomed to stay single forever— he didn’t know.

So, there he was— out drinking beer by his lonesome self on a Thursday night, because he didn’t want to be alone in his apartment.

He had thought that it was too small for his taste at first but, as time went by, he realized that it felt cold and empty without someone to share it with. After the party was done and all the bottles of alcohol were picked up, he was always left with a cold feeling of emptiness weighing him down.

“Would you like another pint, sir?” One of the waiters asked Sanemi as they were passing by. He didn’t even realize that he’d finished the whole glass.

The silver-haired man shook his head even though he wanted nothing more than to get plastered, so he could just amble home and instantly fall asleep on his bed. “No, thanks. But… could you get me a menu?”

It didn’t take long for the waiter to get back to him with a menu booklet in hand. He briefly thanked the man and browsed through the pages; lifting his eyes up to the (h/c) haired woman every once in a while. Based on what he had observed, the dishes that she was making wasn’t on this menu, so he flagged down another waiter.

“Are you ready to order, sir?”

“I was wondering if I could order some soup to start?” Sanemi asked in a no-nonsense manner, that he hoped would let him order something that clearly wasn’t on the menu for that part of the restaurant.

The waiter cast a glance over at the kitchen, and seemed to hesitate before nodding. “Of course, sir. Our soup is our chef’s version of a vichyssoise-” The young man drowned his voice out then, only half listening as is gaze flitted back to the woman. “Do you have any allergies or specifications?”

“No, no allergies.”

“Would you like anything else to go with your soup? A steak, perhaps? Or our truffle gnocchi; it’s one of our best sellers.”

He vaguely remembered her using truffles, so he found himself nodding in agreement. It didn’t even matter to him that he had no clue what gnocchi was. “Sure. And I’d like to send a glass of red wine to one of the chefs— the finest you have.”

Again, he didn’t know a lick about wines or any of the fancy food that they served. And since he was more of a beer and anything-with-rice kind of guy, who was trying to get her attention, he had to play it up. He did have the money for it, so why not?

“Very well, sir. To which of the chefs would you like me to give your present to?” The waiter asked graciously, and Sanemi pointed over to where the woman was still working.

“To her.”

“Oh, I… uh…” the guy stuttered uncomfortably, hesitating a bit as Sanemi raised his eyebrows at him. “Yes, sir. I’ll give it to (Y/n); may I tell her who it’s from?”

“No. Just tell her that it’s from a new admirer— and that she should get that hand checked.”

***

“Chef, I have tomorrow and the next two days off, okay?” (Y/n) chirped as she popped her head into the chefs’ office, only to see the higher ups filing last minute orders and double-checking inventories for the night. It was always like that every night after service; everyone on the line would clean up in the kitchen— consolidating their mise and storing them in the upstairs walk-in chiller— before scrubbing everything down and doing their own little tasks for their stations.

“Why?” The executive chef asked, turning his chair so that he was facing her. “When did you ask me to give you that off?”

“Two weeks ago, chef. Remember?” She rolled her eyes with a sigh, which she never would have gotten away with during service. But after she was off the clock was a very different story. “I even wrote it down on a blue sticky note— right there!”

The man laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Have fun doing whatever it is that you’re going to do.”

“I wish I could, but I know that it’s going to be boring as fuck.”

“You can always work.” He offered with a grin.

(Y/n) laughed and shook her head. “Nice try, chef. But no. My attendance is a must at this family thing.”

“You’re going home to Osaka?” The sous-chef asked, turning his chair as well, so that he could look at the (h/c) haired girl standing in the doorway.

“No. If only Chef Jason would let me have a week off, right, chef?” She turned to the executive chef— Jason— with an innocent grin. “But alas, he’s going to miss me too much.”

“Your station’s going to crash and burn without you,” Jason griped with a huff.

“You’ll manage, chef. It’s only three days. But please don’t burn through all of my prep. I already stocked up on the things I could stock up on, and the rest of the gnocchi is in the freezer. I also finished doing my prep list. So, I’ll be going now! Bye, chefs!” With a wave, (Y/n) hightailed it out of there before they could tell her to get a jacket on and help them with party prep for tomorrow.

Like hell she was going to let that happen again. Fool her once, shame on her; but fool her twice… then she was dumb as fuck.

Once she made it out of the restaurant, she slowly made her way up the street— thinking about whether she should call an Uber to drive her to her condominium building. It was only three blocks away, but her feet were already killing her.

In the end, she took out her phone and sat down at the nearest bus stop to wait for her ride.

She looked down at her hands under the dim light above her, sighing heavily as she took note of how her cuts and burns stood out starkly against her skin. What once used to be unmarred and flawless— the envy of her friends back in high school— were so different now. Ugly as fuck for everyone else, but for her… “It gives me more character.”

A quiet laugh escaped her lips at that, and she heaved another sigh when she was reminded of what she had to face tomorrow at Nanafumi’s 50th anniversary party. Had it been any of the other companies in the long string of companies under her family’s ownership, she wouldn’t have even bothered to show her face, but since it was her family’s flagship company in Japan, attendance was a must.

Nanafumi was the crowning glory of her father’s empire— and it was the closest to his heart, because it had always been his late wife’s dream to become a big player in the Japanese market. Fifty years later, and the company that she had helped build was still one of the biggest players in the business world.

Along with the news of how the upcoming anniversary was going to be extremely fancy, there were so many talks going around that (Y/n) was the one who was going to be taking over the company. Since it was a food manufacturing company, many people thought that it made sense for her to take over.

But she didn’t want to take over the company; not because she was being rebellious, but because she wasn’t born with her father’s business acumen or her mother’s sharp business mind. Her sharp tongue, yes, but her mind… not so much.

Hell, there were six other siblings of hers to choose from, and all of them were just as qualified as she was to run Nanafumi. She could run it, but she would be running it into the ground.

(Y/n) was shaken from her reverie when a car pulled up in front of her. She checked the plates, and once she confirmed that it was her Uber, she hopped in for the quick trip to her building.

Suffice to say, her living quarters were… more than adequate for one person to live in. It used to be where she and her family lived when they spent month-long vacations in Tokyo, and her dad had given it to her as a present… along with the building itself.

She didn’t want to accept it at first, but she was a reasonable person. Not only was the unit already fully-paid for (which meant no rent to think of), but she also used the profits from the building itself (from the commercial spaces on the first three floors, to the monthly rent that some residential tenants paid) to pay for her own expenses.

She was basically set for life, but she didn’t want to just sit back and be a bum for the rest of her existence. Her mother had raised her better than that.

Even though both of her parents came from old money, they were pretty decent people. They didn’t look down on others, and made her and her siblings know the value of working hard for something you were passionate about. She liked to believe that all seven of them turned out to be well-rounded individuals.

And they were. If only her four older brothers and two younger sisters weren’t batshit crazy.

If she were to be honest, her family was like a pack of wild animals when all of them managed to get together. Everyone was so rowdy (sometimes even herself), but all of that was due to their closeness with each other; not because they fought or anything like that.

Yes, they did fight, but that was only when a good number of them were drunk as fuck.

She was just about ready to collapse when she managed to enter her place, swinging the door shut behind her, as she kicked her kitchen clogs off in the foyer. With a sigh, she walked towards her phone and pressed the button to hear all of her messages.

In this day and age, only her family would still use landline phones, and leave messages on answering machines.

“(Y/n), don’t forget the party tomorrow. It’s at seven.” Her father’s deep voice rang in the cavernous living area, making her smile as he spoke in their native Kansai dialect. “And bring your boyfriend with you— Miko told me that you got one over there? Is he husband material? (Y/n), you’re already 27, it’s time you got married and had kids.”

A loud groan escaped (Y/n)’s lips, as she pressed stop on the machine. She was going to kill Miko— her youngest sister— tomorrow. But tonight, it was time to eat something for her first meal of the day, get showered to get rid of the horrendous kitchen smell, and then get some much-needed sleep.

There was a stigma about people who worked in a kitchen: that they always had time to eat because they had access to so much food, but that was a laughable rumor.

They didn’t even have time to breathe, because they were always so busy doing their prep for the day. The most that she could eat on busy days was a French fry, or maybe a piece of raw tuna, but that was it.

And there was that time, about two weeks ago, that she got a glass of wine in the middle of service. The waiter didn’t say who it was from exactly, only that it was from an admirer— someone that knew about her burning her hand.

It was weird, not to mention creepy, but she took the glass with fervor and raised it up to the dining room— thanking whomever had sent her the alcohol, before downing it.

It certainly wasn’t her most refined moment, but she needed alcohol in her system at that time— and that more than did the trick for her. She had a slight buzz going, which emptied her mind and made her work more efficiently, so whomever it was that sent her that glass of wine had saved her from losing her sanity that day.

The wine kept coming every other day or so for a whole week, until it just stopped. She was bummed at first— because hey, it was free alcohol— until she had almost completely forgotten about it; until that moment.

She grabbed a pack of instant ramen from her cupboard stash, and promptly set out to make it.

Another misconception about chefs was that they always ate the best kinds of food— even at home, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Most chefs— especially those who worked full time in a restaurant— ate junk when they got home. The quicker it cooked, the better.

So all those last-minute aglio olio dreams, that some people imagined that chefs ate at home were just those: dreams.

The irony wasn’t lost on (Y/n), though. She spent her days making some of the best and most expensive food for people, but she always ate like a broke college student at home. Hell, broke college students even had time to order pizza— and she could have done that, if she didn’t get out of work at 11 or 12 at night.

Still, she loved what she did. After all, she also had a little of the crazy gene in her.

 ***

Dresses weren’t really high up on (Y/n)’s list of things that she liked to wear. Not anymore, anyway.

When she was in university, she loved dressing up and putting so much effort into her make up, but when she entered culinary school (where everything that wasn’t an ingredient was a food safety hazard) she let go of all the make-up, and the dresses, as well as the high heels that went with them.

There was one thing that culinary school helped her with, though: her confidence. When before, she had a hard time talking to people and had to force herself to be sociable at parties; after culinary school, she was so used to being the center of attention, because some of her mentors had a knack for yelling at their students in front of the entire class.

Hell, in the restaurant industry, people tended to treat everyone like shit— so she had basically been through a few mortifying situations that toughened her up enough to be somewhat shameless.

A downside to being toughened up by the kitchen was the potty mouth that came with the territory, though. And so, it took quite some effort for (Y/n) to keep herself from slipping a few casual ‘fuck’s, ‘damn’s, ‘shit’s, and a few other choice words into regular conversation, like she was adding salt to a bland dish.

“(Y/n)!” Her second-oldest brothers— twins— chorused as she entered the expansive events hall.

“Hello, motherfuckers,” (Y/n) greeted with a grin, which made a few heads turn to look at her, because of her language. Frankly, she couldn’t care less. She then hugged her brothers tightly and kissed their cheeks. “I haven’t seen you two in forever. How’s life in sunny Australia?”

“Really hot,” Yoshio, the older one of the twins, answered— fanning himself with his hand to emphasize his point.

“Lots of kangaroos,” Ren, the younger one of the two, piped up with a laugh. “Some even find their way on campus.”

“And you didn’t bring one for me? What kind of brothers are you?” (Y/n) asked with a chortle, before making eye contact with Yoshio. He hadn’t been trying to be discreet with his perusal of the faint scars that littered the backs of her hands.

With a brief shake of his head at his twin, Ren vocalized his thoughts, “It’s part of her job, bro. And haven’t you gotten used to seeing them on her already?”

Yoshio didn’t even have time to answer, because he was suddenly tackled in a hug from behind. The same happened to Ren, and (Y/n) just about laughed, only to be cut off when a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her in a bear hug.

“Akio-nii!” (Y/n) managed to breathe past her lips, and her older brother set her down once more. She whirled around to face him, and was about to hit his chest with the back of her hand, when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed an affectionate kiss to the crown of her head.

Out of all her siblings, she had to admit that she had always been the closest to Akio. They were the closest in age, but that played very little with their closeness. When their mother died a few years after Miko was born, Akio was the one who had doted on her. It was as if herself and her siblings had become self-sufficient once the matriarch of the house was gone.

The twins took care of Miko and Chiasa— which explained why the girls were clinging on to each of their brothers tightly. And while Akio took care of her, their eldest sibling— Masaru— served as their father figure, as their actual father was almost always away on business.

In line of birth order, it was Masaru, Akio, Yoshio and Ren, then her, which was followed by Chiasa, and last came Miko.

People were starting to stare at their sizeable group, but they paid the prying gazes no mind as they all caught up with each other’s lives.

“Where’s your boyfriend, (Y/n)-nee?” Chiasa asked aloud. Her curiosity wasn’t even veiled with any sort of pleasantry. It was plain as day that her younger sister wanted to meet this nonexistent boyfriend that Miko had been talking about.

“Boyfriend? There’s no such person?” (Y/n) answered with a glare at Miko. Her sister frantically shook her head and raised her hands up in mock surrender.

“It wasn’t me. It was Ren-nii that told me about it.” Miko replied in her defense.

All five pairs of eyes swiveled over to the man in question, who only balked before shaking his head. “It was otō-san. He told me you had a boyfriend.”

“But he left a message telling me that it was Miko who told him.” (Y/n) quirked her eyebrows at her sister, and then added, “Miko, tell the truth.”

“It really wasn’t me. I swear!” The youngest (L/n) pleaded earnestly, which made (Y/n) sigh and shake her head in mild irritation.

“(Y/n), there you are.” Masaru’s familiar voice rang out over the din of voices inside the ballroom. And all six of his siblings turned to look at him, as he crossed the room with an envelope in his hand. “Dad wants you to deliver the speech. Just read this. Come on, the program’s already starting.”

Her eldest brother didn’t give her much of a choice after that, as he took her by the wrist and dragged her over to where a stage was set up. She couldn’t even look over her shoulder to see their other siblings’ expressions, since she was too busy trying not to do a face plant on the floor.

It didn’t take long for her and Masaru to reach the side of the stage, where a lady in a pantsuit was waiting rather impatiently. She looked a bit frazzled already, so she didn’t want to add anymore to her stress. She knew what being under so much stress felt like, and she wasn’t going to be the reason why someone had a breakdown.

“I just need to read this, right?” (Y/n) snatched the envelope out of her brother’s hand.

“Yeah,” Masaru answered with a slight smile. He then wrapped his arms around his sister and pressed a kiss to the top of her head; which was an easy feat considering how tall he was. “Dad would do it, but he’s running a bit late. He said that he wants you to do it.”

That just sounded off to (Y/n), but she remained quiet. Now wasn’t the time for protests about taking over the company, or anything like that. If that wasn’t heavy implication coming from her father, then she didn’t know what was.

And with that, the lady with them explained her cues, before practically pushing her up the side stairs of the stage. She listened attentively to the host as he went on about useless drivel concerning the party, and then some of her background information, before finally introducing her to the crowd.

Gingerly, she made her way to the podium that was set up to the right side of the stage, and smiled at the crowd. She couldn’t exactly pick out who to smile at, since the spotlight practically blinded her, but she didn’t dwell on that fact as she opened the envelope and read through the speech that was written inside.

“What the fuck is this?” She whispered to herself, as she quickly skimmed through the contents of the speech. It sounded so impersonal and generic, even to her.

So, with a suppressed sigh of irritation, she folded the speech up and set it down on the podium. She reckoned that anything that came from her mouth would sound more sincere and personal than the drivel that was written in that letter.

“Good evening, everyone. It’s nice to see all of you celebrating with my family and I tonight,” (Y/n) began hesitantly, but eventually gathered up the courage to push through with her sudden change of plans. She just had to remember not to curse, and she would be good. “As all of you may know, Nanafumi was my parents’ dream fifty years ago. It used to be called Mochifumi, as my mother loved mochi very much. But it was changed around nineteen years ago, after my youngest sister was born. That made seven of us, hence Nana in the name, and Fumi— as in Fumiko, our mother.”

From the corner of her eye, (Y/n) saw her father enter through a side entrance by the stage. He even had the gall to grin and offer her two thumbs up, which made her chuckle and shake her head. Her old man had always been a sly one.

He had planned this; down to the shitty, pre-written speech.

***

To say that that speech had taken a lot out of (Y/n) would be the understatement of the century. She felt as if most of her energy was sapped the moment she got off that goddamned stage. And one measly glass of champagne wasn’t going to cut it; which was why she was already on her third one when he came up to her.

“That speech was quite something,” Sanemi hadn’t meant for his words to come out as mocking, but they had, and he already wanted to slap himself. Initially, he was surprised to find out that the lady that he had been so hard-up for at that restaurant was his boss’ boss’ boss’ daughter; but he had gotten over that initial shock and had carefully crafted a plan to get her to go home with him.

Or maybe even make out with him in a supply closet somewhere. Anything to get her to think about him enough to make her interested.

“Thank you, but… do I know you?”

Sanemi had to admit that the comment stung, but he wasn’t going to let that deter him from getting the (h/c) haired woman where he wanted her; preferably in his bed.

[totallyrhettro]

Blacklight

Word Count: 2296 Rating: PG Warnings: Implied activities Summary: After pulling a harmless prank, Chase learns more about his bosses than he every wanted to know. Notes: Present day, Rhett and Link aren’t married, Chase POV

Three days. Three long days. That was how long they’d been filming this new music video. Rhett, Link, and many of the crewmembers had been all working their butts off to finish this video and tensions were running high. The room they were working in was almost completely dark during shots, with glow-in-the-dark paint splattered over the walls, floor, props, and even on Rhett and Link themselves.

“It reminds me of ‘So Dang Dark,’” Link commented between takes. Rhett nodded in agreement. The set from the first music video of their Buddy System series was very similar. 

“Only we were wearing less clothes then,” he noted with a smirk, holding up his costumes’ head. It was a cross between a wolf and a bear, plus horns. Link had a similar mask to wear and both of them looked like something out of a kid’s nightmare. In ‘So Dang Dark’ they had been wearing what amounted to modified underwear and their bodies had been painted in orange and green stripes. Sometimes even they didn’t know where they got their weird ideas.

“Okay, guys,” Stevie was saying, coming up to the two of them. “I think that’s a wrap. We got everything we need.” A cheer went up in the crew from all corners of the large room, excited and gleeful. Rhett and Link smiled, happy along with them, and pleased with what they had accomplished over the last few days.

“Great, I’m going to take a shower,” Link told her, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“I got next,” Rhett chimed in, quick to follow his lifelong friend out of the room. While the bosses meandered off to get themselves clean, the crew set about cleaning up the room. It had been a hard three days and they were all eager to be finished but there was one last thing they had to do: the after party. It was to be hosted in this very room and they had to get rid of the props and paint first.

Once they finished cleaning they started getting ready for the party. They left on the lights from the shoot; the multicolored spectrum giving the place a wonderful glow. The blacklights were turned off, however, as all the paint that would glow under it had been washed away. A long table for snacks was set up on the far end and a large stereo was wheeled in for music. Everything else was to be put in storage, including the tubes of glow paint; under normal light the paint was invisible but it would glow green under blacklight. It had a neat effect and they had used quite a bit for the music video.

Chase was just packing up the tubes of glow paint when he had a sudden thought. It was silly, it was devious, and his prankster side loved it. After checking if anyone was looking, he quickly tucked the small tube into his pocket for later. Then, very nonchalantly, he continued working. The rest of his plan would have to wait until later. 

Soon enough the party room had been set up and the rest of the crew was already starting to gather around the snack table. There was still no sign of their bosses, Rhett and Link, in the party room or their office and it was to the ladder that Chase went. Checking and double checking that the loft was empty, he crept in and headed straight for Rhett’s desk. Pulling open one drawer, than another he rapidly found Rhett’s stash of lip balm (wondrously wild wood ‘n berries) and a wicked grin came over his face.

Taking the tube of glow paint he had taken earlier, twisting open the cap, he picked up one of the lip balms and speared a very small drop onto the side. With his finger he smoothed the drop over until it covered the entire tube in an almost indistinguishable layer of the invisible liquid. When he was done even he could barely tell he had done anything at all. Putting back the balm he immediately moved onto the second and a third until every single tube had been laced with the paint.

Once he was finished, and all the lip balm was placed back exactly where they had been before, Chase closed the drawer and stuffed the leftover paint tube back into his pocket. The deed was done and all that was left was to get out before anyone caught-

“Hey, Chase,” came Rhett’s charming and melodic voice. Chase turned on the spot to see one of his bosses leaning on the doorframe, looking a bit smug and very curious as to what his employee was doing here. “What’s up?” He didn’t look mad in the slightest, with a bearded grin and raised eyebrow, but Chase couldn’t help but immediately feel guilty. After all, he was guilty.

“I, uh, just looking for a-” ‘Think fast!’ “Pen.” Not the best excuse but it was all he could think of.

“For what?” came the obvious response.

“To… leave you a message.” ‘Good answer.’ Not good enough.

“Well,” Rhett chirped, stepping into the room with slow but long strides. “Now you don’t have to. You can just give me the message in person.”

“Right, yeah,” Chase agreed with a nervous smile. There was a short pause filled with awkward silence before Rhett shook his head.

“Well?” he pressed. “What’s the message?”

“Ah, right. Um, the… party’s getting started?” It was a lame answer, but the best he could think of. Rhett didn’t exactly buy it but he was in too good a mood to second guess it right now. Chuckling more to himself than at Chase, Rhett waved it off.

“Okay. I’ll meet you guys down there in a minute.” He strode past Chase to his desk and opened the middle drawer. “I just came in here to grab something.” Chase held his breath, watching as Rhett picked up one of his lip balms and popped off the cap. With practiced ease he spread the balm over his lips before putting it in the front pocket of his jeans as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He gave Chase one last smile before heading out. It wasn’t until he was gone that Chase could finally breathe again.

Everything was fine. Everything had gone completely according to the plan.

He held back his celebrations for now but he couldn’t help but grin like an idiot that things had gone so well. Any minute now Rhett would touch his own hair, beard or shirt, and there would be invisible glowing paint all over him, just waiting for a blacklight to show it off. It was a silly prank, but harmless, and that was the kind that Chase liked best. 

Scurrying back to the party room, he waited near the light controls for the final part of his plan. Everyone else was already there, hanging out, chatting away and eating snacks. They’d even started up the music and it was blaring through the stereo. There was talk of karaoke later but Chase didn’t pay close attention. He was waiting for Rhett.

Five minutes went by. Ten. Twenty. Finally after twenty five minutes Rhett strolled into the room, Link close behind. Their eyes lit up at the sight of what the crew had managed to cobble together for the party and immediately began to mingle with everyone. Rhett went straight for the snacks, of course, while Link went to see what tunes were available for the karaoke. Chase waited until his boss was close to the blacklight before making his move. 

His hands were quick, his movements precise. With one flick he turned off all the lights in the room. With no windows to the outside world, the entire space was instantly plunged into total darkness. Then, at nearly the same time, he turned on the blacklight that stood just a few feet away from Rhett. Turning his head he eagerly hoped to see the results of his handy work.

Just a few seconds later, he hastily turned the house lights back on and the blacklight off. His jaw was still set firmly on the floor. Everyone was trying to get their bearings, frantically talking as they tried to figure out why the lights had gone out for a second. Chase, of course, was right next to the switches and several people turned to see if he had done it and why he had done it. Picking up his jaw and blushing furiously, Chase profusely apologized to everyone, fiening his clumsiness and telling them he had bumped the switch by accident. A few people were skeptical but no one questioned it. They just resumed their fun and conversations while Chase dashed from the room, unnoticed.

He was still reeling from what he had seen when the lights had gone out.

The glow paint had worked alright, wonderfully in fact. There were streaks of the green illumination in Rhett’s hair, specks on his beard and all over his fingers- but that was not all. Link, who had been standing right next to Rhett, was also marked. Green on his shoulders, green on his arms, green all over his head and hair.  Lines of green all the way down to his waist and smudges of green at his zipper. 

Oh gosh, so much green on his pants.

Chase tried to blink the memory away, to reassemble what he had seen into a reality he could comprehend, but every time he closed his eyes he saw those tell-tale green marks just the same. All over Rhett. All over Link. The implications were intense, to say the least, and his mind just couldn’t handle it. Surely this couldn’t mean-

Maybe Rhett let Link borrow his lip balm? Maybe. Maybe. Still, that couldn’t have accounted for that much green, could it? All over his arms, his shirt, his pants. It was barely any on Rhett and Chase knew for certain his boss had used the tainted lip balm. No, there was only one explanation that, despite the connotations, could even begin to explain those marks. 

They could only have been put there by Rhett.

Had anyone else seen it? The lights were only out for a few seconds and Chase had already been looking at Rhett when he turned the black lights on. He hadn’t heard a single gasp of shock, or any murmurs about Rhett or Link’s clothing. Maybe he had been the only person to see the green on their bodies, or at least understood how they got there. Chase wished he didn’t understand how they had gotten there. He really wished he was still ignorant but he had seen the evidence and now… Now he could never look at his bosses the same way again.

How could he even look them in the eyes, knowing what they had done? Plus it had to have happened somewhere in the building. At the thought Chase’s mind immediately began to run through all the rooms it could have happened in. The loft, their dressing room, the recording studio? Which room would was now tainted by the libidinous activities of the two men he thought were just friends? The more he thought about it, the more he shuddered.

It wasn’t that he was upset that Rhett and Link were having what appeared to be a physical relationship. He was fine with that, if very surprised. It was the fact they had been hiding it from everyone for who knows how long and (apparently) having their relations in the very place their employees worked nearly every day. Chase really didn’t want to think about Rhett or Link naked in the spaces he worked, the places he ate, let alone doing anything else in those places.

Chase took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind of the wild and lurid scenes that his imagination was currently conjuring. Instead he tried to focus on how happy he was that his bosses, who have obviously been in love with each other for like, always, had finally realized it. He was happy for them, honest and truly, and he was just about ready to relax and rejoin the party when Link came around the corner and found him.

“Hey, Chase,” he began, kind and worried. “What’re you doing out here?” It was very nice of his boss to come and check on him, but Chase immediately remembered why he had come running out of the party room in the first place. He focused his eyes at Link’s face, trying very hard not to look anywhere else, trying not to picture the green paint that covered the man’s shirt and pants, but he could still envision the green on his face and in his hair even though it was all totally invisible right now.

“Just… needed some air,” he explained, feeling very embarrassed and still picturing the green. ‘Did Rhett just grab fistfulls of hair to get that much paint in it?’

“Alright, well… look- no one’s mad about the lights. You just scared us, is all.” He patted Chase’s shoulder reassuringly before heading back towards the party. Without thinking Chase let his eyes look over Link’s backside. Not because he was really into his bosses’ ass but because he couldn’t help but wonder how much paint was there that he just couldn’t see. He immediately shook the burgeoning thoughts from his head and looked away. Leaning against a wall he sighed to himself. Now that he knew, he wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to work here without getting distracted. Even worse, he wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to keep this a secret from everyone.

Especially Rhett and Link.

~

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