#i appreciate when she's being interviewed by black interviewers who make her feel comfortable enough to open up a little

[youre-where-i-wanna-go]

it's so crazy to me when people defend copaganda or worse praise cops bc one is played by angela bassett when she herself has said playing one has not made her any less afraid of cops irl

like it's okay to love a character bc of their actress and still criticize when said character is used to downplay the violent institution that is the police

[damiansgoodgirll]

hi girly i love your writing honestly i get so excited when i see you posted!

Can you do a damian priest x reader where reader goes for a night out with rhea and gets to drunk and damian comes to “save” her and is all protective. like reader asks “why do you care?” and damian is like “because i love you”

damian priest x reader (romantic) / rhea ripley x reader (platonic)

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

‼️drunk reader, feels, a little angst and lot of fluff

monday night

“should we go right after the interviews?” rhea asked as you were finishing retouching your make up.

“absolutely” you smiled back “i think i’ll be done in thirty minutes, what about you?”

she looked at the clock and thought for a moment “probably twenty minutes, i have to finish some interviews with damian and then i’ll change…”

before you could reply, damian entered rhea’s locker room, definitely not expecting you there “rhea are you done? oh - hi y/n” he awkwardly smiled, making you chuckle.

“hi…” you blushed under his gaze.

you’ve always had a crush on him but you knew he saw you just as a friend. you tried to give him hints but he never seemed to understand or maybe he did but wasn’t interested. you couldn’t tell but either way, you got tired of waiting for him so even if it hurt, you were okay with being just friends with him.

“yes i’m done” rhea replied to damian “thirty minutes y/n, okay?”

“perfect, see ya!” you quickly excused yourself and met jackie for a quick interview.

rhea smirked seeing how damian reacted being in your presence and she couldn’t help but wonder when he was going to confess to you.

“what you girls doing in thirty minutes?” he asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“oh, nothing, y/n wanted to try this club she saw on her way here and i’m going with her? you wanna come?”

he was honestly shocked. you weren’t for clubs. you always hated them and he knew so he didn’t understand why all of sudden you wanted to try a a club in a city you didn’t even know.

“no thanks…i’m going straight to the hotel after we finish our interview” he thought for a moment “plus, who goes to a club on monday night? it’s gonna be so boring…”

rhea scoffed “people who wanna have fun and not be bothered by too many people”

the older man laughed “okay, fair, let’s get this done so you can get ready and have fun with her…”

somehow, he was jealous of the close bond between you and rhea. you were amazing friends and it was thanks to her if he got the opportunity to meet you. he tried to spend as much time he could with you but it wasn’t enough. rhea was with you almost of the time so there wasn’t much time for him to spend with you alone.

rhea saw the side eye damian gave her and she knew she had to act quick because you were both two idiots in love and she couldn’t stand the glances and flirts you gave each other without realising that you both had feelings.

once you finished your interview, you ran back to your changing room and put on some clothes you brought for the club. nothing too excessive but you felt comfortable in that short dress you got. it was one of your favourites and you always looked for an occasion to wear it. pairing it with matching heels, you were done, ready for rhea who was taking longer - as usual.

as you walked towards her changing room, your eyes met with damian. shyly smiling, you waved at him.

you were breathtaking, the most beautiful person he’s ever seen “the dress looks good on you” he complimented you. he was genuine, you could tell it from his smile “rhea’s almost done, sorry we took so long with the interviews”

“thank you…” your face was heating up, not used to being complimented so often and especially not by the man you had a crush on “and no problem with that, i get, interviews can be long sometimes” as you were both speaking you saw rhea making her way out of her room.

wearing a black top and a black pair of jeans, boots and a black purse, she was more than ready.

“ready girl?” she smirked at you, making you nod your head.

“have fun girls” damian smiled - or at least, he tried. he walked with you to the parking lot before getting into rental and driving away, back to the hotel.

of course rhea had to pick metal music for the ride but you didn’t mind it as your mind was thinking of the latin man. you wished you had a closer bond with him, like him and rhea, or maybe even more but in your mind he was way out of your league. you saw the women he was interested in and none of them looked like you. those were models, tall and beautiful, and you were just, well, you. you knew that damian would never think of you like that but sometimes you wondered how it would feel like being loved by him.

you saw it with rhea. how caring he was towards her. how he cared for her, always making sure she was okay - especially since the judgement day broke apart - how he always texted her if she was okay or if she needed anything. you thought about the woman he would fall in love with one day and how lucky she was would be.

“…earth to y/n…” rhea snapped her fingers in front of your face trying to wake you up from your thoughts “are you here?”

“oh sorry, i was thinking…are we arrived?” you asked and she nodded.

seeing the parking lot loaded with cars, maybe this club was full seven days a week, you thought. making your way into the place, you were both met with the flashing neon lights and the disco music echoing inside.

a lot of people dancing and some at the bar, but it was nice and cool, no drunk men dancing and trying to catch girls attention, bodyguards securing the area. it wasn’t bad at all.

“i need a drink first” you laughed as rhea followed you to the bar as you both ordered some cocktails. rhea decided to stay light with her drink, knowing that she would have to drive you back to the hotel while you tried a vodka and tequila mixed cocktail. it was strong but not enough for you. you never really liked alcohol but tonight you were testing yourself.

“is it good?” rhea asked seeing how quickly you drank that.

“yup” you giggled “i’m gonna get another one and then we can dance?” you weren’t really waiting for an answer from rhea but she wasn’t expecting to see you getting a second drink in less than ten minutes.

once your glass was full again, rhea dragged you to the dance floor. maybe it was the music mixed with the taste of alcohol burning in your mouth but everything was spinning and you loved that sensation.

you couldn’t even tell how much time passed but your legs were feeling heavy. you needed to sit for a bit. rhea agreed and she pointed out a small booth at the end of the club.

“my feet are killing me” you laughed, exhaling trying to let go of your pain.

“i told you multiple times to not wear heels when you’re dancing…but you never listen” smirking, she pointed out at your red feet.

“yeah i know…” as you were both joking, a barista came to your both and offered you two shots of tequila.

“it’s on the house” she gently said before leaving.

“oh i can’t drink that or i’m not gonna be able to drive back” rhea said but she didn’t mind. she wasn’t a fan of alcohol, in fact she always tried to avoid it. you took both glasses and shoved them down your throat. feeling the burning sensation, not helping your head who was still spinning from before “okay girl, take my glass too, i guess” rhea laughed.

two shots and two cocktails later, you were now sipping wine as rhea blurted out how happy she was with jey.

your head was spinning, laughing from time to time.

“girl, you still with me?” rhea asked waiting for a reply but all that came out from your lips was a drunk laugh “y/n?”

“i’m okay…” you whispered.

not sounding so sure, rhea rolled her eyes “stop drinking that wine”

“i rather drink than face my problems…” you said looking everywhere but rhea.

“what problems?” she laughed. of course she knew anyone had problems but you never mentioned anything with her so she was pretty surprised to hear those words coming from your mouth.

you took a deep breath “damian…he’s my problem…i think i love him” you were sure you loved him.

rhea then got a big idea “stay here, and don’t drink your wine, i’ll go to the bathroom real quick”and in fact, she went to the bathroom, sending a quick text message to damian, knowing that if you needed help, he would be on his feet in less than ten seconds.

hey dam! i hope you’re still awake. y/n is drunk and i don’t think i’ll be able to bring her back to the hotel. can you come here and help me please?

as damian saw that text, he took less than five minutes to wear a pair of shoes and texting rhea for the address. rhea always told him how you weren’t much of a drinker so he got worried, fearing someone tried to get their way with you.

“where did you go?” you asked rhea with a disapproval look “you left me alone so i started talking about my problems with the barista…she offered me another shot” you pointed out at the empty glass in front of you.

rhea breathed “i called back up…we’re going back to the hotel…” she next to you.

only fifteen minutes away rhea spotted damian inside the building. waving at him she showed him where you were both sitting.

“rhea, what is he doing here?” you drunkly asked.

“you two need to figure out what you feel for each other…he’s gonna take care of you” she whispered as she saw damian approaching the two of you.

before you could contest her words, damian saw how lost your look was and eyed rhea, asking for questions but she simply shook her head.

“i called back up” she laughed seeing damian “thanks for coming” she greeted him as he nodded his head “he’s gonna help you…i’m gonna get back to the hotel”

damian was shocked with rhea’s words “wait what…you’re leaving?”

“yeah…that’s why i called you…you two, figure it out” she said before leaving.

as you both watched her leaving the club, you were wondering what did you have to figure out with damian. he was there just to help a friend - rhea, because she called him - and that was. nothing more.

he softly smiled at you “let’s get you into the car” as he gently helped you on your feet and guided you back to his car.

he made sure tu buckle your seat belt and he start driving. it was clear to anyone that you were drunk and he tried to drive cautiously, not wanting to make you sick.

“why are you here?” you asked, your eyes looking outside the window.

“rhea texted me…she was worried about you. you usually don’t drink and seeing you soo…drunk made her worry and honestly i worried too…” he spoke, his eyes still on the road.

“worried? you? worried about me?” you chuckled “why? it’s not like you care about me…we don’t even know each other that well…” you didn’t want to be so rude but your drunk thoughts were coming out and you didn’t know how to stop them.

damian was hurt by your words, but he knew that you were drunk and you didn’t mean what you actually said “i care about you…more than what you think” he whispered low just enough for you to hear it.

you heard his words, you just didn’t know what to say. you pretended nothing happened and he kept driving towards the hotel. once you arrived at the building, damian walked you through the long halls and reached for the elevator. you didn’t even notice that he pushed the bottom for his floor and not yours. you realised it only when you reached his room and you met with the welcoming feeling of his perfume and cologne.

“damian this isn’t my room…” you whispered as he sat you down on his bed.

“i know…i’m not leaving you alone tonight. you’re too drunk and if you get sick at least i’ll be here to help you” he said while throwing his shoes somewhere in the room.

was he serious? no - maybe he was just pitying you. he was doing this because rhea asked him, not because he really wanted. that was all your mind kept telling you while in reality damian wanted to take care of you. wanted to have you in his arms, cuddle you and making you feel safe. hell, he was going to hold your hair up in case you needed to throw up. and he never done that for anyone.

he sensed your hesitation “i meant it…what i say before, in the car, i meant every single word i said…” he said sitting next to you.

“but why?” your mind told you to stop asking him stupid questions and and savour the moment but your heart needed to know all the truth on my he was so caring with you. because, maybe, there was going to be a chance for you.

he gently cupped your face in his warm big hands and he smiled “because i have feelings for you. i love you and i always will…i care so much about you. and the fact that we are not even so close kills me because i never know if you’re okay or if you need help, if you’re happy or sad…i wanna be part of your life and i wanna be a part with being more than friends” his soft fingers stroked your cheeks making you lean into his touch.

“that’s all i’ve been waiting to hear…” you whispered. your confession surprising him. sure, you were drunk but not that drunk to say stupid things “i always liked you but i never thought you would like someone like me…”

“someone like you it’s all i want…you, it’s all i want…” he smiled, looking up at your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort but when he saw none, he leaned his lips over yours “i wanna kiss you”

“i might smell like alcohol but i wanna kiss you damian…please” you almost begged, making him laugh.

you felt his hot breath over your lips, gazing and teasing before he gently lowered his head down and finally kissed you. he was soft with you, his hands moving from your face to your hips, holding you closer as your hands lost in his long hair.

you both separated to catch breath and as you were staring in each other’s eyes you realised how stupid you were. two idiots in love - as rhea often said - that couldn’t understand that they both had feelings for the other.

“stay here tonight and let me take care of you…” damian whispered making you nod your head “i told rhea that monday nights at the club can be boring…i can’t believe you got that drunk” he smirked making you chuckle.

“it’s gonna be a long night, my head is about to explode” you joked, throwing yourself back into the bed.

it was a long night indeed. you complaining how bad your head hurt and being nauseous all the time but damian had you safe in his arms - and your hair safe in his hands as you threw up in the bathroom - you knew that you were going to be fine.

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)

a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”

You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.

“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.

“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”

“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”

“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.

“Then what is this about?”

“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.

“Complaints?”

“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.

“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”

“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”

“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”

You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.

Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.

“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.

As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.

“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”

“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”

“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.

“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.

“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”

“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”

“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”

“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”

You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.

You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.

“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”

“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”

“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.

“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.

Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.

There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.

Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.

“This is her.”

“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”

“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.

“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.

“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”

“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.

“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”

“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.

“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”

“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”

“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.

“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”

You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.

“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.

“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”

“With who?”

“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”

Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.

“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”

“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.

“Well, I guess I’ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.

“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.

“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.

Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.

Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of underage drinking 

Part Summary: Sam hosts a party and Y/N makes a not-so-great acquaintance of a certain rock star.

Masterlist

Sam’s house is filled with people. I know the majority of the partiers, the rest I can recognize from whatever field of entertainment they’re in. The music is blasting over the speakers and the voices fill the remaining space.

I search around for him. I manage to find him in the family room on the couch. He’s chatting with a group of people, including Penelope. I make my way over, shuffling between bodies. When I appear out from within the crowd, Sam gleams.

“You made it!”

“I did!” I giggle.

We hug and he introduces me to the girl beside him. “Y/N, this is Cara.”

As if I don't know who Cara Delevigne is, I may be busy but I don't live on Mars. I smile at her kindly. “Nice to meet you!”

“You too! I’m a huge fan of your work on TSL!” She gushes, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

The Seasons of Life is often shortened to TSL, just a side note.

Cara’s accent is so pretty! She’s already a model then she has to have a British accent as if she wasn’t perfect enough!

“Aw, thank you so much!”

Sam slips by me. “I’m going to go get us a drink!”

"Oh wait, Sam!"

“I know what to do!” He shouts back without stopping. I should know better. With how much time we spend together, he would know my order.

“That kid,” I sigh to Penelope and Cara.

The two giggle and we go on to talk about this and that. Fun enough, Cara leaves for Paris tomorrow for a fashion show. Must be exciting to travel so often and to wear the most amazing clothes. She’s quite funny. Her personality is so vibrant and warm. I can see us being good friends.

A loud voice echoes through the house and the three of us look toward the archway to see who it’s coming from. Bodies block the view so I turn my attention back to the girls. Penelope and I discuss the photoshoot in two days and Cara talks about her experiences with Vanity Fair.

“Hey, Cara!” A voice greets behind me.

I don't turn around, but I can feel their energy hovering over me. They shuffle to stand right beside me. I glance up, but can't recognize them.

Cara stands up to hug them. “Good to see you! How are you?” She keeps him in an embrace.

“Great, great!” The guy, who’s back is to me for some reason seems familiar. I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“You know Sam?” She questions as they part.

“Not really, I came with a few friends.”

I look over at Penelope for a hint as to who it could be. She shrugs and watches the two interact.

“Speaking of, have you seen him? I should say hi.” The man asks.

“He went to the kitchen to get a drink for him and Y/N.”

The man turns around and he peers down at me on the couch. I should’ve guessed it… MGK. The hair and a million tattoos should've been a dead giveaway. That bright blonde mess of a hairstyle.

“Colson, this is Y/N Voss,” Cara introduces us.

He glances down at me with a smile. “We’ve met actually,” he claims.

My head tilts, I can’t recall when we've met properly.

“Today after I performed on James’s show,” he describes, towering over me.

“Oh! Awesome!” Cara sits back down next to me.

All I can do is stare at Colson in confusion. “If you count glancing at one another from across the room once as meeting,” I reply a bit snarky.

He gives me a toothy grin and eases down onto the cushion ottoman right across from me. “It was more than one glance,” he argues.

“You would know, you’re the one that never looked away," I fire back.

Cara and Penelope exchange a glance, snicker, then leave the scene together. They offer their goodbye before giggling away. They're smart.

Colson seems to have not noticed or at least doesn’t care. He moves to take Cara's spot on the cushion next to me. “You would’ve had to been looking to have noticed that I never looked away.”

My head rolls back, with a mocking laugh. “Well aren’t you a genius!”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind me. “I like to think so.”

“One vodka tonic.” Sam interrupts, holding out my drink.

I take it bitterly. "Thanks."

“Sam huh?” Colson stands up and the two shake hands. “I’m Colson, nice to officially meet you, man!”

Sam treats him like an old friend which annoys the heck out of me. Colson so far has only shown his arrogance to me. “You too! Great seeing you today at the show. Your performance was amazing.”

“Thanks, your interview was hilarious!” Colson fakes charming better than some actors.

“You watched?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I stuck around just off-camera. You two are great!”

Watching these two talk each other up is a bromance waiting to happen.

Sam gestures to me with his glass. “Y/N here is the real comedian. There’s never a dull moment with her."

“I'm sure.” Colson peers down at me with a bright smile. "We’ve only just met and she’s already sparked a debate with me.”

I narrow my eyes at Colson, what’s he trying to start?

Sam settles down on the ottoman where Colson was. “What about?” He is all for the conversation and is jumping headfirst into the tiff between us.

Colson smiles but I see the mischief in his eyes.

“It wasn’t a debate” I rise to my feet in front of the boys. “If you would excuse.” I step away from the couch a little irked.

“Oh come on now Baby, I’m only joking,” Colson calls not bothered.

“Oh no,” Sam laughs behind me. “Best not call her that or any pet names for that matter. She hates them!”

I don’t even acknowledge them on my walk out of the room. Cocky, annoying, ugh! It’s been maybe five minutes and he’s already managed to irritate me. Maybe all the things they write in the tabloids about him are true. A spoiled, arrogant, womanizing jerk. A piece of the worst parts of the industry. I'm going to go find the girls and stay far away from Colson Baker.

________________________________________

On the set of the Vanity Fair shoot, the atmosphere is lively and carefree. The theme is an 80’s vintage style and since it’s coming back the magazine is mixing old with the new. Sam and I are in an old-fashioned record store and it’s wicked! The walls are teal and remind me of an old Taco Bell. There are rows and rows of just vinyl records. My hair is teased in an 80’s rock band kind of hairstyle. 80s music has been playing on set all morning to set the mood. I'm living for it!

A lady approaches me with a huge light wash denim jacket.

“No way! I get to wear this!” I gush.

She helps me put it on and I’m dying from how awesome this shoot is.

I immediately go to Sam's trailer. “Sam! I’m rocking the denim on denim look!” I show off my high-waisted light wash denim shorts with a black bulky leather belt around my waist.

He laughs. “I appreciate the denim on denim but I have to say my favorite part is the old Bon Jovi T.”

The photographer, Adam, comes up with this brilliant idea for me to stand on the crates of records. Where the two rows in the middle of the store meet, there’s enough room for me to stand. Once I’m up there and I can find the balance in these red heels, they have Sam join me.

“Sam, grab her leg and look up at her as though you’re keeping an eye on her,” Adam instructs.

The camera flashes and between snaps, I change my facial features.

“Good! Good! Let’s get some shots from the counter!”

Sam helps me down from the crates and I hop down. We get a shot of me laying across the counter with a red sucker in my hand and Sam hovering over me. This shoot is incredibly fun and I can’t wait to see the finished product.

Sam and I change outfits and Adam asks if he can get a video for the website and YouTube channel. Of course, we said yes. It’ll be a montage of an interview of us individually and then of us just messing around throughout the store with 80’s music playing in the background. Adam has me sit on an 80’s style floral couch they set up in front of a backdrop in the back room. The whole setup is very comfortable and intimate. Only us, a few lights and a camera with the radio playing. Sam is in makeup and dress for the part of the video of us being candid.

“You can sit however you like!” Adam instructs, meaning I’m sitting too formal with my posture straight and legs crossed. “Act like we’re just hanging out or something.”

I adjust myself and crisscross my legs, slouching a bit.

“Much better!” he compliments, staring down at the camera. He hits up on a stool and positions his camera on the stand. “What’s it like to be on the cover of Vanity Fair?”

“The whole experience is unreal! I remember having a subscription to Teen Vogue growing up. My friends and I loved them!”

“Would you describe your style as modern or classic?”

“Classic for sure!” I gush.

Adam snickers. “What’s your favorite decade for fashion?”

I laugh and gesture down at my outfit. “The 80’s.”

“Does anyone from the 80’s inspire your style in particular?”

I tap the tips of my fingers together and hum. “That’s a toughy! I guess I would have to say Demi Moore for the hair. Specifically, her haircut from About Last Night… that’s where I got the style for my hair actually. Another big one would be Cindy Crawford, such a fashion icon!” I could talk about fashion all day and the icons idolize.

“Heels or sneakers?”

“Depends on the occasion. Sneakers for everyday things, I could never live without my trusty Converse. Yet, I would wear heels if I’m dressing it up a bit.”

"Are you more of a girly-girl or tomboy?”

“People who know me well would say I’m a girly-girl but I also don’t mind downplaying it from time to time. I’ve gotten better lately at relaxing and no being so “on” all the time.”

“Hair up or down?”

“Half up, half down,” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully looking into the camera.

Adam chuckles behind the camera. He changes topics. “You’re from South Carolina originally...”

My heart sinks a little at the mention of home, but I hide behind a smile. “That I am.”

“You haven’t been back in almost a year, do you miss it?”

I play with the ends of my hair, examining my lap. Avoiding the camera lens. I look at anywhere but there. “If I were to miss anything about South Carolina, it would be the gorgeous landscape and southern food."

“You have three siblings, correct?” Adam asks next.

“I do, an older brother and sister, then a younger brother.” I list.

“What do they think about the show and your career?”

I nod. “They support me but the distance is hard. As you said, we haven’t all been together in almost a year.”

“Do you have any plans to go visit home soon?”

I sigh, “sadly no, my work keeps me quite busy.”

The interview goes on and we discuss how my style has evolved since I was a teen starting out in the business. I’ll admit, the topics about home and family sucked. Work and personal life are two separate jobs, my worlds can’t collide. I never bring South Carolina into it.

______________________________________________

After the shoot, I received a call from Cara when we were finishing up the photoshoot. Last night, Cara, Penelope, and I had a blast! I completely forgot about the whole tiff with Colson once I reached them in the kitchen. Since then, we’ve been three peas in a pod. While we were talking on the phone, she invited Sam and me to dinner at The Ivy.

“A small gathering of friends,” she told me and asked for us to be there by seven.

Jump ahead to now and Sam is parallel parking the car. I hop out and wait on the sidewalk for Sam to walk around. Our hands' interlock and the paparazzi take notice of us when people on the sidewalk pull out their phones.

“Y/N! SAM! SAM! OVER HERE!”

“HOW’S FILMING GOING?”

“It’s good to be back on set!” I cover my eyes with my clutch.

“YOUR INTERVIEW WITH JAMES CORDEN WAS GREAT!”

“SOCIAL BLEW UP AFTER THE INTERVIEW!”

Sam asks for the guys to make a path so we can get through without issues. He releases my hand and presses his palm to my lower back protectively.

“WE’VE ALREADY SEEN Cara AND PENELOPE GO IN!”

“A FEW PEOPLE ACTUALLY!”

“ARE YOU ALL MEETING UP?”

“Maybe, maybe not!” I look into one of the video cameras and wink.

The guy behind it gets a hoot out of my expression.

Sam and I reach the restaurant and the men let us go in unbothered.

“WE’LL LEAVE YOU ALONE TO YOUR DINNER!”

“Thanks guys, see you later!” I wave to them and their cameras shoot rapidly.

The noise dies down when we go back further into the restaurant. Sam spots Cara in the back and guides me back there. Tables are lined up in a long row and the majority of the seats are filled.

Cara, cool as a cucumber pulls me into a hug. “Hey Y/N! So glad you two could come!” She sits Sam and me across from each other near the middle. She insisted that I sit by her so we could chat. We get to talking about the Vanity Fair shoot today then she’s pulled away when another guest arrives.

The waitress comes up behind me and requests my drink order.

“I’ll have a sweet tea please.”

“We only serve unsweetened.”

I hate it when they say that. “That’s fine, thank you!” Sam eyes me and I pout about having no sweet tea.

“You realize there’s sugar right here.” He slides me the packets of sugar.

“Yes but it’s not the same. There’s sweet tea at every restaurant where I’m from and I come here boom! Sweet tea is nonexistent!”

"What’s the drink that’s carbonated?” He’s asking to be annoying because the west coast and the midwest disagree on the name.

“Pop!” I glare at him.

“That’s right! Pop! Sounds like you’re saying pot every time.” He laughs at his own joke, finding himself humorous.

“It’s soda by the way," he corrects.

“Uh uh,” I refuse to change my ways, “it’s pop.”

The empty chair next to me slides back and when I glance up to see who’s doing it, an instant headache hits my brain.

Sam greets Colson warmly with a handshake. I shoot Sam another glare. He’s acting neutral but that shouldn’t be a choice in this case. He was my friend first!

Colson removes black Ray-Bans from his face and positions them on top of his head.

“Hello Y/N.” Colson sends me one of his charming grins so many teen girls swoon over.

“Hi,” I reply, not attempting to hide my disinterest. I curve my body away from him and towards Cara, legitly giving him the cold shoulder.

The dinner goes on without a hitch surprisingly, considering the circumstances. Penelope leans down over the back of my chair to say our goodbyes.

I turn around in my chair to face her. “See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya,” she rubs her hand up and down my arm.

She and I exchange kisses on the cheek. “Love you!” We say in unison as we part.

“Later Sam!” She wiggles her fingers at him in a wave.

Sam and I stick around a while longer since Cara and I have gotten into a deep conversation about our shared love for vintage things. A conversation about our collections of records alone went on for twenty minutes. I hadn't noticed that it was just four of us now. Sam and Colson have been talking most of the dinner.

A pair of hands rest on my shoulders and steal my attention away from Cara. “Y/N, you ready to go?” Sam asks.

“We’ll head out too!” Cara announces with her sights directed behind me.

I look over my shoulder and Colson is standing beside Sam. The four of us walking out together… how convenient.

I grab my clutch, sticking close to Sam to dodge Colson.

The four of us walk toward the front of the restaurant and right when we reach the steps leading outside, Cara announces that she forgot her purse.

“I’ll be right back!” She urges us to go on without her.

The cameras waited for us as I assumed they would. They’re capturing every minute of us waiting for Cara.

I place my hand on Sam’s shoulder, “would you go help her?”

“You sure?” His eyes flicker between me and Colson.

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him and he promises he’ll only be a second.

“Go to the car so you aren’t bothered,” he refers to the paparazzi.

“I’ll walk her,” Colson offers.

Sam gives him the go-ahead as he goes off to help in the search for the purse.

I’m left with the one guy I was avoiding. I grip the keys in my hand and walk down the brick steps to the sidewalk. I hear Colson behind me and stop to address him. “I can walk myself to the car.”

He raises his arms mocking a surrender. “I don’t doubt your ability to walk, just helping out.”

“I don’t need your help,” I scoff, starting to walk again.

“I never said you did,” Colson sassily replies.

*Click* *Click* *Click*

A man runs around me to get a photo of me straight on.

“Y/N! Y/N! WALKING IN WITH SAM AND LEAVING WITH MGK, ANY EXPLANATION?”

I pause for a moment, making eye contact with the man behind the camera. Is he honestly trying to start drama? What lies are he going to sell? I’m only going to the car because Sam requested. The only reason Colson is even near me is that he’s so freaking persistent.

I push back the aggravation and force my lips into a kind smile. I can’t have a single moment of weakness. I can’t give in to my emotions like others. “Sam is helping Cara with something inside. Colson was kind enough to walk me to the car.”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU GUYS KNOWN EACH OTHER?”

I purposefully answer quickly so Colson doesn’t even have the chance to think of a response. “Not long, we met the other day backstage at The Late Late Show. We have a lot of the same friends and had no idea!” I peek over at Colson and he gives me a knowing look. I dismiss it and go on with my charade. I will not let this jerk mess with my career.

“ANY CHANCE OF HAVING COLSON GUEST STAR ON THE SHOW?”

“That would be great!” I lie my butt off, “having more friends on set would be fun!”

“COLSON, HOW’S YOUR NEW ALBUM COMING ALONG?!”

“We’re in the recording stage right now. Should be released sometime this summer," he answers.

“FOLLOWING UP WITH A TOUR?”

“Of course!” he chuckles.

I unlock the car and move around the guys to reach the door.

“WE’LL LET YOU GUYS GO ON. ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR NIGHT!” One of them departs.

“Thank you! You too!” I wave goodbye.

Some stick behind to get a few last pictures but for the most part, they all disburse. The ones remaining, however, keep their distance.

I yank on the handle of the door and Colson holds it for me. As if he's a gentleman. I begin to climb in, prepared to yank it shut in his face.

“Friends huh?” Colson chuckles.

I turn around abruptly and check around the general area of the sidewalk for any cameras. Seems the remainder of the guys have left. I shut the door and Colson removes his hand in a rush.

“No, not friends! I only said that to please the public," I huff.

“Ouch!” he acts offended, placing his hand on his heart. “I did find it interesting that you claimed we met backstage the other day so I was right!” He chuckles, believing he caught me.

“No, no, no, no!" I shut that thought down quickly. "The only reason I made that up was that it’s not good for my image if I admit I was at a party. People tend to assume that heavy drinking and drugs occur at parties. I can’t be associate with that scene!”

“Oh, so it’s alright to lie?” He crosses his arms and snickers, glancing down the street toward the restaurant.

I roll my eyes, of course, he doesn’t understand, why would he? “You don’t get it” I scoff, dismissing him. I turn and reach for the car handle again.

“So what if you were at a party? People drink, if some have a problem with that, that’s their problem. Oh! I forgot! You're America's Sweetheart! The perfect angel princess with a spotless record,” he mocks.

I slam the car door shut, having hit my limit. I keep my voice hush. “It’s not that simple! I'm not like you! I can't be caught partying! If the country, the world, sees the truth then my image is ruined! I've been doing this since I was a teenager! I worked way too hard for far too long to lose everything over a stupid mistake!”

Colson’s face falters from his usual carefree expression to one of seriousness.

“Found it! Let’s go!” Sam announces loudly to the whole block.

I toss him the keys and glance back to Colson who stands there in a stillness I have yet to see from me. His stare makes me want to hide. I feel as though I’m under a microscope being studied.

“Toodaloo Y/N! ‘Till next time my pals!” Cara strolls down the sidewalk.

It’s evident she’s had a couple of drinks. She sways further down the sidewalk and comes to a stop once she notices Colson isn’t following.

“Later Cara!” Sam shouts over the top of the car behind me.

Colson and I stare at each other I’m guessing for different reasons. He appears lost in thought and I’m desperately trying to figure out why. If I look away, I fear he’ll break to pieces or something.

Cara pauses. “Colson? You coming?”

He holds out for a moment but finally breaks eye contact with me. "Yeah."

When I’m no longer staring into those black works of art I regain my ability to move. I hurry into the car and Sam says his goodbyes again over the top of the car. I buckle my seatbelt when he climbs in. Watching strangers walk up and down the sidewalk, I’m perfectly aware of Sam starring me down.

He pulls onto the street. “Are we gonna talk about it or are we doing silence?”

I reach over and turn up the radio.

“Of course you make your own option.” Sam watches me, waiting for some sort of explanation.

We come in at the end of a song and the next one is oh too recognizable. The classic rock sound that is a part of all of Colson’s music plays through the car speakers. His vocals enter the soundwave and I groan loudly over the music before turning off the radio.

"No music then!" I snap.

__________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa5 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxr @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresix @thysagclub

[poodlejoonas]

Dad!BC AU - at the Emma Gaala with their families

To celebrate tonight’s Emma Gaala, I decided to make a special post of what the guys are like at the awards show with their families. I wanted to write this as a short idea but I didn’t know who to pick out and I figured it’d be better to summarize everyone. Enjoy!

(Under the read-more for length... I went a little overboard with this one lol.)

Joel:

With Milli: Every now and then, I think about Joel’s essay for the book on love where he says he never wants to become the kind of rock star sporting a random woman and bragging about being king of the world. He never feels that way with Milli, though. She makes her first appearance with him when they’re engaged and she’s pregnant. She’s made public appearances with him before but never the Emma Gaala, but they decide that there’s a first for everything. Milli looks absolutely radiant in a comfortable but elegant black lace maternity gown to match Joel’s aesthetic and he’s so proud to have his adorable fiancée by his side. A fan favorite photo of them that night is a picture of him giving her a kiss on her cheek with one arm holding her close and the other hand on her belly. He does brag a little bit about one thing - the fact that his son is already a real rock star because he made his red carpet debut before he’s even born. And as a special surprise for the fans, they share his full name for the first time in an interview on the red carpet. He’s beyond thrilled to show the world where his next step in life is going.

With Enkka: Enkka watches the show at home with his mom for the first few years, so he knows what it is but it takes him a while to understand why it’s so important for his dad and uncles. He comes to his first show when he’s 4-years-old, when he finally reaches the age where he’s old enough to understand and appreciate it as a fancy event full of famous people like his dad. He’s a little intimidated by all the lights and sounds at first, but he feels fearless when Joel’s holding him and escorting him through the interviews with the news sites. By the last interview, he’s an absolute show-stealer and a little bit of a diva, insisting on having all the pics taken of him and wanting to answer every question he can. And, of course, he gets a little star-struck too when he meets some of his dad’s music idols and famous friends.

Joonas:

With Kirsten: Kirsten had a rough start coping with Joonas’s sudden fame. Because of the hate she received as the mother of his child, during a time when there were very few opportunities to make public appearances together, she’d rather shy away from being visible offline for as long as she can. She doesn’t attend with him in 2022 (mostly to also stay home and take care of Sohvi while the guys are away), but she appears with him for the first time in 2023 after they’ve been married for a couple months. She wears a colorful spring dress with light sleeves and a long flowy skirt, a little modest in comparison to her husband who still refuses to wear shirts under his blazers. She’s still a little shy and trying to avoid being in too many pictures, but she changes her mind later when she sees how great she looks in them, how happy Joonas looks every time he looks at her, and how much people online are really starting to change their opinion of her. From there, she loves going to the Emma Gaala with him and taking the opportunity to dress up and really feel like a star herself for the night.

With their kids: Sohvi makes her first appearance at the same time as her mom and the press at the show love how much she looks like a doll. (For reference, I saw this reel on IG and I haven’t been able to have an idea of baby Sohvi as anything else since.) She’s wearing a dress that matches her mom’s and Riina designed and made them herself. At first Joonas carries her onto the red carpet, but she steals the show the moment he puts her down on the floor and she starts toddling around. She knows that camera = time to be cute, so she waves to the news outlets and camera people as if she thinks they’re there for her. Lukas and Jaska aren’t quite the attention grabbers that she is when it’s time for them to come to the shows because they’re mostly there to see and be seen. But Sohvi really has the Porko spirit in her and everyone kind of had a feeling that meant she’d become a star someday just like Joonas.

Niko:

With Jenna: Jenna’s honestly not one for showing up to these kinds of stuffy events. She knows she’s not built for a lifestyle of watching what she has to say in front of the media and all these people watching her every move. She’d rather support Niko from a distance and he’s well aware of that so he’s perfectly fine with not having her join him. But one time several years after they begin dating again, she finally decides to get a little dressed up for the evening and show them some real goth girl energy. She goes full “Morticia Addams meets 60s sex symbol” in a tight, all-black cocktail dress with a long chiffon robe and Niko can’t stop making eyes at her even with all these cameras and people staring them down. One of the guys jokes and tells them to “get a room” to which Niko promptly replies by wordlessly standing up from the table and pretending to pull her away to go find one. 

With their kids: Both Leevi and Lahja debut at the same time when they’re 4 and 2. Of all the couples, Niko and Jenna give everyone the biggest surprise look of what their family looks like - two adorable kids, wearing relatively normal clothes in comparison to their tatted alt parents. By this time, Leevi is already starting to grow his hair out to look more like dad and Niko couldn’t be happier to have his beautiful wife and little mini-mes by his side. Leevi loves being in the spotlight while Lahja would rather cling to her dad. For a second, they worry that he’s being too much of a handful and that people would think they were bad parents for letting him be so hyper at such a fancy event, but he doesn’t cause too much trouble and fans make memes of his energy.

Tommi:

With Marja: Like Kirsten, Marja was hesitant to go with Tommi because she didn’t like feeling so visible to the media. It was hard enough coping with the initial reactions and she was still afraid that her visibility would make it easier for her ex to find her. But she finally made her first appearance a few months after they get married and it’s also the first time the public meets her as Mrs. Marja Lalli. She’s also pregnant with Anna at the time, and she had been bored at home on bed rest due to her ongoing health issues. Although her pregnancy so far had been difficult because of that, she had a rare few days where she felt well enough to get out of the house. She wears a comfortable sundress with matching Converses, a lot more casual compared to the rest of the group but no one dared to blame her for focusing on her comfort over her style. She walks the red carpet with him just fine, but the moment they get to their table, she hangs out there and snacks on the hors d'oeuvres. Jenna’s there too, watching her like a guard dog in case she needed a moment to step away from the excitement of everything going on.

With their kids: Miikka debuts at the same time as his mom. He’d always been a shy kid, and that definitely didn’t disappear the moment he was in front of the cameras. He spent the whole walk on the red carpet sticking as closely to Tommi as possible and trying to avoid the cameras. He doesn’t really go to many of the shows afterwards because that whole first experience was a little jarring and stressful, so Tommi and Marja don’t force him to go again. Of all the Lalli kids, Anna is the only one that really likes to go consistently. Kaisa never liked it and it wasn’t until she was 10 that they found out it was because of her recently-diagnosed autism and natural shyness. Arttu, with a speech impediment that got worse in stressful situations, decided that the experience was cool in theory but not something he wanted to do often. They all definitely got their unwillingness to stand in front of a camera from their father (which they all joke about affectionately with each other).

Olli:

With Riina: It doesn’t take long for Riina to join Olli at the shows. She debuts in 2023, even before their first anniversary as a couple, which is the fastest of the couples (that eventually stay together, that is). A few months in advance, the rest of the guys give her their theme and she custom makes their red carpet outfits. Olli is so proud of how crafty his girlfriend (and future wife) is, that he literally vibrates with the urge to tell everyone at the show who made their outfits. She’s not really there for the urge to “see and be seen,” just to support Olli and the rest of the guys (and hang out with the rest of the girls, of course). And, for them to be the only couple who waited until their wedding night to have sex for the first time, she enjoys riling him up with risque texts and gentle touches under the table.

With their kids: Olli would be much happier to keep his girls away from the musician lifestyle as much as possible, so they don’t come to a show until they’re old enough to process what kind of an event it is. Elina is the shy twin between the two of them, so she doesn’t do much to garner attention and would be much happier to not be photographed. But Elisabet has always loved the extra attention, even when she was a baby. Despite Olli’s best efforts, Elisabet goes into music herself so she loves this scene from the very beginning. She just has to stop when she sees a camera pointed at her and the event photographers adore every minute of it. Isla is more chill about these kinds of things. She’ll stop for pictures, but she’d rather just get to the good food and watch her dad and uncles put on a great show.

Aleksi:

With Laila: It’s no surprise at this point in the AU, but Aleksi and Laila’s first (and only) Emma appearance together was controversial as hell. Laila herself hadn’t gotten an invitation in years, so she used Aleksi as her way to get a spot in the show. Most of the reporters on the red carpet ignored her in favor of talking to the band and she hated every minute of it. She kept trying to insert herself into conversations and steal the spotlight from the guys. This was one of the first major red flags that their relationship would eventually be doomed, because he was obviously annoyed with her but he didn’t want to say it out loud and ruin the guys’ night. It ended with her starting a fight with him right before the band was set to go on stage and them being separated by security for the rest of the night. By the next year, a few months before they break up, he goes without her because the stunt she pulled got her permanently banned from ever returning.

With Hanna: Hanna is absolutely everything that Laila was not. She holds off on going to the show with him for a few years because, like Jenna, those fancy events aren’t really her favorite thing in the world. Even with her job where she does occasionally attend a nice dinner, she goes because they’re mostly required and good for professional networking. She never wears a dress to the Emma Gaala, mostly a nice and colorful pantsuit with a lace crop top or t-shirt underneath (you know the look I’m talking about). Although it’s not her thing, it’s nice to go and support Aleksi, especially if he’s feeling anxious about a particular performance or nervous about winning an award. Similarly, Aleksi loves having Hanna there because she’s one of his favorite comfort people, aside from the guys and Noah of course. A kiss, a hug, and a few encouraging words from her are all he needs to relax and feel better.

With Noah: The simple answer here is that Aleksi doesn’t bring Noah to the show until he’s almost 10. With his autism, Noah is sensitive to heavy lights and sounds (more so than Kaisa), and the last thing Aleksi wants to do is stress him out by forcing him into the spotlight. The situation with Laila constantly coming in and out of their lives to cause trouble also compels Aleksi to keep him out of the spotlight to protect his privacy. Like with attending their shows, Noah’s first Emma Gaala appearance is 100 percent his own decision. He brings his over-ear noise canceling headphones for when he needs them and Aleksi refuses to take any comments or criticism for allowing Noah to tune out of the show whenever he wants.

[babybluebex]

can I please request a sebastian stan imagine where sebastian and the reader are both dating other people but they end up liking each other after filming something together, and the rest is up to you? xx

distance [sebastian stan x reader]

➽ pairing: sebastian stan x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 1.9k ➽ summary: see above!  ➽ warnings: explicit language, mentions of tom hiddleston x reader, angst, pining ➽ a/n: enjoy!

Jealousy was new to you. Sure, you turned green every so often, but it wasn’t a usual occurrence. It happened infrequently enough that you forgot the way it felt every time it bubbled up again. Recently, though, you were familiar with jealousy. 

You weren’t quite sure when it started. Maybe when you first met Sebastian. It was at the premiere for Avengers. You had been in it, playing Tony Stark’s daughter Lucy, who was kidnapped by the crazed Loki. In filming your scenes with Tom Hiddleston, you had grown to appreciate him, and the premiere was a sort-of announcement that you were dating. By that point, you already knew that you would be in the next Captain America movie, and you were thrilled to work with Chris and Scarlet again. On top of that, you were excited to meet Anthony Mackie. 

You didn’t know that Sebastian would be in Winter Soldier until he approached you at the premiere. He looked handsome, suit and rings and slicked hair, and he congratulated you on an amazing performance. “Oh, I loved you in First Avenger,” you told him with a smile. “Bucky was my favorite by far. I cried when he died.” 

Tom wrapped his arm around your waist and nodded in agreement. “She was truly a mess,” he said. “We had to pause the movie.” He shook Sebastian’s hand, and the force of it wasn’t lost on you. 

“I got emotional during your scene together in the Tower,” Sebastian said. “Lucy begging for her dad, and Loki’s unrelenting cruelty. I just… Wow. It blew me away!” 

“Thanks,” you said. “Are you gonna visit the Winter Soldier set?”

Sebastian laughed and bit his bottom lip. Full and pink. He was so totally handsome, and you felt lightheaded even being in his presence. “Well,” he started. “I’m actually in it.” 

You gasped. “What? How? Bucky died!” 

“He was rescued,” Sebastian said slowly. “By HYDRA. And he comes back.”

“Oh, my God,” you laughed. “Oh, you just made my entire night. Wow! I-I can’t wait!” 

Sebastian nodded, and he looked to his side. A few meters away, a woman was talking to the press, and she quickly came and kissed Sebastian on the cheek. You recognized her as one of his co-stars from Once Upon A Time, and you felt that unfamiliar jealousy bubble in your stomach. Why were you jealous? You were on the arm of one of the most talented and successful actors, and, besides that, you loved your boyfriend. 

So why did you want more? 

Filming for Winter Soldier started, and you quickly found out your character’s storyline. She was working with Steve and Fury to help in reparations of the New York fiasco from Avengers, and she was the first one to encounter the Winter Soldier. She wouldn���t recognize him and would tell Steve about her encounter with a super-soldier, and Natasha would tell the story of the Winter Soldier, how he was a myth and a ghost. The directors, the talented Russo brothers, had told you that an arc would extend past the movie and into the sequels where Lucy helps break Bucky Barnes from his brainwashing and they would eventually fall in love. But, they assured you, that was several films off. They didn’t even plan for Lucy and Bucky to kiss until the next Captain America movie. 

You and Sebastian became quick friends. Despite the metal-like prosthetic and long hair and heavy makeup that he wore on set, you found comfort in him. You couldn’t explain it, but you felt at ease with him. Between takes, you could be found laughing and jokingly sparing with him. 

One night, after filming, you called Tom. He was on a press tour for Dark World at the same time, which meant that your schedules never lined up. That night was the first time you had properly talked to him in weeks. “Hi, love,” you said. “How’re you? I miss you like crazy.” 

“I miss you too, darling,” Tom told you in his smooth baritone. “I’m alright. Tired as hell, though.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “Anything I can do to help?” 

“Just talk to me,” Tom sighed, and you imagined him leaning his head back. “Tell me about filming.” 

“Well,” you began. “A lot more physical than what I’m used to. A lot of running around and everything, ya know? My legs are sore all the time.” You laughed, and you listened to Tom’s scratchy laughter. “But I’m surrounded by great people. The Russos are awesome, and of course, Chris and Scarlet and Samuel are fantastic.”

“And Sebastian?”

You hesitated to talk about Sebastian. You hoped that your boyfriend hadn’t caught onto your infatuation with him, but that’s all it was. It was just a crush on a hot guy. “He’s cool,” you said. “Really funny and friendly. Most of my physical scenes are with him.” 

“I know you can’t tell me much,” Tom said. “But do you get to snog him?” 

You laughed, but bit your cheek all the same. “Not yet,” you chuckled. “That’s not until the next Captain America movie.”

“Oh,” Tom said quickly. “I was joking, but… Do you and Sebastian have any scenes like that?” 

“Not in this movie, love,” you assured him. “Are you jealous?” 

“Just a bit,” Tom admitted. “I just wish that it was me that you were kissing.” 

You sighed. “That’s the nature of our jobs, huh?” you said. “I wish I was kissing you too.” 

Tom was quiet for a moment, then he mumbled, “I think maybe we should take a break.” 

You wanted to be shocked, but you knew that it was coming. It was several months in the making and, with nothing concrete keeping you two together, it was inevitable. You weren’t hurt at all. “Me too,” you said softly. “We just… I can’t do long distance. It sounds cliche, but it’s not you, Hidds.”

“Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder,” Tom sighed. “But…” 

You nodded. “I understand,” you said. “But please, if you ever need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call me. Alright? I still care about you loads.” 

“Same to you, darling,” Tom whispered. And the call ended. 

The next day was weird, to put it plainly. You felt ill all morning and you couldn’t figure out exactly why, but, the moment you saw Sebastian, you understood it. Your boyfriend’s jealousy was powerful. As much as Tom wanted to blame it on something else, you knew that it was the green monster that had prompted the break up. “Hey,” Sebastian said cheerfully, placing a playful jab to your arm. “You seem tired.” 

“Gee, what a nice thing to say to a lady,” you chuckled. “No, I’m just…” You sighed. “Tom and I broke up last night. I’m a little weird today.” 

Sebastian’s face soured. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. “You guys seemed so happy together.” 

You shrugged. “We were,” you said. “‘Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder’... But I guess it doesn’t.” 

Sebastian frowned deep, and you pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m really fucking sorry,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“No,” you said, pulling out of his strong grip. Even without the actual metal arm, he was strong as hell. “Just a hug is enough.” 

“I’m glad I can do that,” Sebastian said. His eyes sparkled, and he added, “I understand what you’re going through. Jennifer and I broke up a few weeks before filming started.” 

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed. “Seb! I had no idea! I’m so sorry.” 

Sebastian shrugged. “It was for the best,” he said. The hug had yet to break, but you didn’t mind. Even through the layers of his costume, you could feel Sebastian’s heartbeat on your cheek, and it was soothing. 

Filming finished several weeks after your breakup with Tom, and then it was time for your own press tour. Marvel paired you with Scarlet for most press junkets, but sometimes you were put with Sebastian. Those days were your favorite, mostly because absolutely no work got done. You two were forever laughing and making fun of each other, and you always saw edits of your interviews on social media. 

Finally, the premiere came. You and Sebastian had already agreed to be each other’s dates, but you were blown away by him. His hair was short and styled, and he looked breathtakingly handsome in his expensive black suit and matching black tie. “Oh my fucking God,” Sebastian laughed when he saw you, though. “You look… Holy shit. So beautiful.” 

“Oh, God, stop,” you groaned. Your dress was a beautiful thing, custom Dior, red silk that hugged your body just right, and you shivered when Sebastian’s warm fingers trailed down your exposed back. “You look even better.” 

“Well, that’s not possible,” Sebastian scoffed. “You’re gonna steal the show.” 

“When I’m next to you?” You asked. “Everyone’s gonna be focused on your pretty blue eyes.” 

Sebastian smiled softly, his hand finally settling on the small of your back. “I have something for you,” he said gently. 

“Oh, Seb!” you groaned. “You did not buy me something. You know I hate that!” 

“Aw, c’mon, you’re gonna love it,” Sebastian said, and he reached into a pocket inside his suit jacket. He pulled out a small box, just big enough for a pair of earrings or something equivalent, and he opened it. You gasped. A ring. Silver metal, two diamonds with a ruby nestled in the middle. It was dainty and gorgeous, and you felt tears pricking at your eyes. 

“You piece of shit,” you sniffled. “I just had my makeup done and now you’re ruining it!” You hugged him all the same, though, and you whispered in his ear, “It’s so gorgeous, Seb. Thank you.” 

When you pulled out of the hug, you looked at Sebastian, admiring him. He was truly a gorgeous man, and you felt your chest grow hot at the look in his eyes. Were his pupils blown from love? Lust? Something else entirely? 

He answered the question. Sebastian placed his hand on your cheek and tugged you into a kiss, the hand on your back pulling you in against his body, and you held onto the back of his neck. He was everything you thought he would be: his lips were soft and tasted so nice, like cinnamon and whisky and all things wonderful, and, when the kiss broke, he rested his forehead against yours. “I…” he started. “I’m sorry, Y/N, that was-- I shouldn’t have--“ 

“Stop,” you whispered firmly. You knew that Sebastian, the man you were able to call your best friend, was prone to anxiety, and you didn’t want a single anxious thought about you to cross his mind. “Don’t apologize. If you hadn’t kissed me, I would have kissed you. Thank you.” 

You saw Sebastian’s hands shaking as he slid the ring onto your middle finger, and you smiled at how perfectly it fit. “Bucky,” you whispered, admiring the ring. “Silver and red… Right?” 

“Glad you caught that,” Sebastian chuckled. “Look, I know that I’m just your date, but I just really like you. I feel stupid because I’m so nervous about it, but… Seeing you upset over Tom just made me feel so horrible. I never want to see you like that again, and if I can help to make your days better, then I want to. Can I?” 

You touched your hand to his cheek, and you nodded. “Of course,” you told him. “I’d love nothing more, Seb.” 

[fruitcoops]

SIRIUS/REMUS PLAYING WITH PUPPIES WHILE ANSWERING FANS QUESTIONS

Please know that if we ever met in person, I would literally lift you off your feet and hug you for suggesting this. My afternoon was filled with adorable puppy videos because of this!

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Can I have them?” Remus asked softly, staring at the person behind the camera with big, pleading eyes. “Please?”

“Do the introduction and then we’ll set ‘em loose,” Marlene said.

“Fine. Hey, everyone, welcome back to Lion Pride! I’m Remus Lupin and I’m here today to play with puppies.”

“And answer questions.”

“And answer questions,” he added. “Maybe, like, one or two in between snuggles.”

“You’re going to answer all of them,” Marlene said more firmly.

He rolled his eyes and took the lid off the jar of paper slips. “Can I have the puppies now?”

A door clicked open behind the camera and Remus lit up as four puppies tumbled into frame, racing straight for him. “Hello, babies!” he laughed as a tiny golden retriever jumped on his chest. “Oh, I love you so much. Come here, come here, let me give you kisses.”

“Question number one?” Marlene prompted as he began playing with them and rolling their toys around.

Remus sighed and pulled a question out. “What would I be doing if I didn’t become a hockey player? Physical therapy for su—ope, okay, you can have that one.”

The Irish Setter puppy growled playfully as they played a short game of tug-of-war until the paper tore.

“Oh no, it broke!” Remus exclaimed, giving the pup a scratch behind the ears while it chewed on the leftover scraps. “Yes, that’s all yours now. Next one: what is the best part about playing professional hockey? I get to do interviews like this.” One of the puppies, a medium-sized black one, began chewing on one of the laces of his Converse. “Excuse me—excuse me, young man, that’s my shoelace. Are you chewing it because it’s rainbow? Is this homophobia?”

“Remus.”

“Sorry.” He lifted the puppy into his arms and kissed his head. “Okay, munchkin, what’s next? What’s next? You’re so fucking cute, I just wanna squish you. Um, what’s the most common thing fans say when they meet me?” He laughed and the puppy licked his cheek. “Usually they look at me and go, ‘god, you’re tall’, which surprises people because I’m always around these gigantic guys. Do these dogs have names?”

“If I tell you their names, you’re going to get attached.”

“We have crossed, salted, and burned that bridge, Marley.”

“The one you’re holding is Mercutio, the red one is Juliet, the retriever is Pip, and the fluffy one on your lap is Lucie, after Lucie Manette.”

Remus’ jaw went slack. “They’re named after book characters?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yep.”

“Oh, no.” He reached out and pulled Juliet and Pip into his arms for a moment. “Oh, no, you all have to come home with me now. The next question is…would I ever do drag? Probably not, but I looked hot as fuck in eyeliner, so do with that what you will.”

“Which video was that?”

“It was the fear pong one, which I played with my fiancé and my friends James and Lily!” His voice pitched up as he turned to talk to Mercutio. “I did, buddy! It was so fun! Yes, it was!”

“Remus. Questions.”

“Right. What’s one of my weirdest or funniest fan encounters? There was this one lady, she was like forty-something, and she came up to me while I was at the post office and asks ‘are you Remus Lupin?’ and I said, ‘yes, that’s me’ and she’s like ‘from the Gryffindor Lions?’ and I said yes again and then she went—” He narrowed his eyes and nodded his head slowly. “—‘I knew you were gay. Good for you, kiddo’ and then left. It was the weirdest fucking thing, especially considering I had played, like, one game with the team by that point.”

“Are you serious?” Marlene asked.

“Totally honest. I never saw her again, either.” Juliet put her paws on the front of his Lions hoodie and began licking the edge of his jaw. “Hey, sweet girl, thank you for the kisses. Can I grab another question? No? Okay, we can stay here.”

Pip began yipping and Mercutio wiggled out of Remus’ hold, launching himself at the other dog with a tiny growl.

“Mercutio, no!” Remus gasped, scooting Juliet aside so he could put the two puppies under his arms. His hands were big enough to almost cover their whole bellies. “We’re not here to start fights, you two. Apologize.” They turned their heads to lick his cheeks. “I didn’t mean apologize to me, but okay. You’re so soft and warm, what the hell?”

“Next question?”

“What’s the craziest rumor I’ve heard about myself? A solid group of people thought I asked to be on the team, which isn’t true. I didn’t even know people were considering it until James and Lily’s wedding. Coach wanted it to be a surprise while he cleared it with the organization.” Remus shook his head and slowly petted Lucie as she napped on his thigh. “Is there a celebrity I’ve met that left me starstruck? Ha! Yes. There was a fundraiser a few months ago and Sam Neill was there, which I didn’t know until I turned around and he was about two feet away.”

“What did you do?”

Remus laughed and turned faintly pink. “Um, I made a sort of squeaking noise and he kinda chuckled, which was mortifying in and of itself. He goes, ‘hi, I’m Sam’ and I nodded because duh, he’s Sam fucking Neill, and then I mumbled something about Jurassic Park and he smiled and said, ‘son, you’re blocking the water’ and I just about died on the spot.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“Sirius was standing next to me the entire time and silently laughing his ass off. I saw them talking later, and when were about to drive home he hands me this napkin and it has Sam Neill’s autograph on it.”

“He didn’t,” Marlene gasped.

Remus nodded. “He did.”

“That’s the smoothest move I’ve ever heard of.”

“It was incredible.” Juliet waddled closer and nudged a red ball out from under Remus’ knee, which he picked up and tossed before taking out another question. “Do I appreciate when fans come up to me in public or is it annoying? Oh, it’s never annoying. It’s a little weird if I’m eating lunch somewhere or running errands and someone tries to sneak a picture, though. I love all the fans and it’s super fun talking to everyone, so please just come over and say hello instead of failing to be sneaky while I’ve got pizza grease on my face.”

“Even if you’re on a date?”

Remus snorted. “Okay, well, use some common sense. Pip—babycakes, stop trying to eat the questions. There we go.” He settled the puppy into his lap and rolled the ball for Juliet again. “In a movie about my life, who would I want to play me and Sirius?” He paused and looked at the camera. “I would want us to play ourselves, but only because neither of us can act and it would be so fucking funny to make the absolute worst movie.”

“Come on,” Marlene groaned.

“I’m being a hundred percent honest right now! I think it would be hilarious. We’d be terrible.” Juliet pawed at his arm insistently until he grabbed the ball, but she wouldn’t let it go and they ended up playing tug-of-war despite the fact that she had no traction on the floor and kept sliding around. “Aren’t you a feisty one, sweet girl! What is the most memorable moment of my life that I want to cherish forever? This. Right here, right now.”

“Really?”

“I have two dogs on my lap, one under my arm, and the other slobbering all over my hand. This is the best possible place to be. Wait, hang on a second.” Remus carefully lifted Lucie up and laid down, settling her on his abdomen as the other three clambered over to flop on him. “Oh, yeah, this is the peak of my entire life.”

“You’re not going to say your engagement? Maybe the day you started playing for the Lions?”

“Nope. The engagement was incredible and one of my favorite memories for sure, but I was shaking in my skates.”

“Just read the next question.”

“Okay! What’s my go-to karaoke song?” He hummed for a moment, then laughed as Lucie scooted up to rest her head under his chin. “I think it’s probably ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’ by Whitney Houston. Lily and I did a duet of that a year or so ago, and it rocked.”

Pip began gnawing on the cuff of his sweatshirt. “Pip,” Marlene scolded; her foot appeared in frame until Remus waved her off with a smile.

“It’s okay, he can chew if he wants to. It’s an old sweater anyway, and it’s not even mine!” He scratched behind Pip’s ears. “No, it’s not, peach-a-keen! You can go nuts with that as long as you’re cozy. What is…my favorite behind-the-scenes Lions moment? Our groupchat, no contest.”

“Does it have the whole team?”

“Most of us, yeah. You have to earn your spot.” Remus looked over at the camera and Lucie put her head on his neck. “Looks like I’ve been banned from turning my head now, huh?”

“Are you comfortable?”

“Marley, there are very few things that would make me happier than I am right now. I’m being slowly crushed by puppies and I get to cuddle them for free.” He reached blindly into the question jar. “This is a two-part question. Do I prefer big dogs or small dogs, and how is Hattie doing? I love all dogs, but I think I prefer big ones because they’re always so much fun, and I don’t feel like I’m accidentally going to break them if I move wrong. Hattie’s doing well! She’s almost eighty pounds and she’s at home with Sirius right now, probably getting snuggled within an inch of her fuzzy little life.”

“That’s the dream right there.”

“Tell me about it. Alright, sorry ladies and gents, but I have to sit up to get to the questions.” All four puppies made noises of protest when he started sitting up and he sighed, eyebrows pitching upward. “I know, I know, it’s really hard. Here, how about we…” Remus carefully gathered them until he held all four against his chest; their tiny faces looked out over his forearms and he placed a kiss on each of their heads. “Much better.”

“Can you get to the jar?”

It took a bit of maneuvering, but he managed to reach in. “Do you want to read it?” he asked Mercutio as the puppy tried to bite the slip. “No? Okay. What is my favorite thing about playing on the same team as my fiancé? That is an excellent question. My favorite thing is that we finally have the same schedule, so we can build in time to hang out more easily. It was hard to do that when we were doing different things.”

Pip yawned and the entire camera crew ‘awww’ed; Remus made a soft noise and nuzzled his floppy ear.

“I adore you,” he murmured. “I really do. Last question: What is my advice to those who want to follow their dreams? Oh, jeez.”

“You can take a minute to think.”

Remus crossed his legs and lifted his knees up so he could hug all the puppies at once while still looking at the camera. “The only reason I got big and strong is so that I can hold four puppies at once. Just thought people should know that. Uh, my advice to those who want to follow their dreams is to persevere. I never in a million years thought that I would get to play on a professional hockey team, but I worked really hard to overcome my injury and stay connected to the sport because I love it. If there’s something you love, don’t be afraid to hold on to it.”

“Wise words,” Marlene remarked. “Do you want to tell the fans where they can find the puppies?”

“At my house,” Remus joked. “But if that doesn’t work, they are up for adoption at Friendly Paws Animal Shelter, which is just south of downtown Gryffindor and has tons of adorable friends like these guys. Can I call Sirius real quick?”

“Sure,” Marlene laughed.

Remus gingerly lowered Lucie into his lap and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing a quick number before putting it on speakerphone and setting it down to pick her up again. “Re?” Sirius sounded confused. “Aren’t you still with Marlene?”

“Yeah.”

“…did something happen?”

“Nope, all good. Can we get another dog?”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line. “Marlene, what did you do?”

“It’s just an interview!” she called.

“What kind of interview?”

“Baby, they gave me puppies,” Remus said gleefully, burying his face in Lucie’s fluff for a moment. “Like, really good puppies.”

A long-suffering sigh came through the phone. “How many are you holding?” Remus hesitated. “Sweetheart, how many dogs are currently in your arms?”

“Four.”

“Holy shit, Marlene! You gave him four dogs?!”

“They named them, too,” Remus added. “Pip, Juliet, Lucie Manette, and Mercutio. Baby, they named him Mercutio.”

“This was a recipe for disaster.” Despite his protests, Sirius sounded intrigued. “How old are they?”

Remus glanced up at Marlene. “They’re all six to eight months old,” she said.

Sirius blew out a slow breath. “So they’re babies.”

“They’re all up for adoption.”

“We have Hattie already.” Sirius was wavering. “But…she might possibly need a friend. Maybe.”

“You already love these dogs and you haven’t even seen them,” Remus said with a grin.

“The names are perfect! What was I supposed to do?”

“I’m going to sign the video off and then call you back, okay?”

“Okay. Don’t let go of the dogs until I get there, please.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

Once the call ended, Remus faced the camera with a smile. Juliet and Pip had already fallen asleep. “Thanks for tuning in, Lions! Be sure to like and subscribe for more content. Endless thanks to Marlene McKinnon for allowing me to spend an hour holding tiny dogs. Have a great day!”

[somethingvaguetodo]

Program: Outreach

For @into-september who requested “value me” from this prompt list. Read on AO3 here.

~~~

“Adrien A-Agreste?”

Adrien winced at the stutter that preceded his last name, but stood, straightening his jacket before turning to the woman with what he hoped was a sincere smile.

“That’s me.”

She bit her lip before smiling tentatively back. “I’m Lena LaRoe.” Adrien held out his hand to shake hers and she stared at it, as if he had offered her a snake's head instead of a regular hand. Self-conscious, he let his fingers ball into a fist and dropped his arm to hang uselessly by his side. “You can come with me.”

She spun on her patent black heel and walked toward a door past the reception area. Adrien hurried to follow her, nodding politely at the receptionist who quickly tried to pretend she wasn’t just staring at him in shock.

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief once the door closed behind him, and the hall was wonderfully absent of any inquisitive eyes.

Adrien absolutely loved the Miraculous Center for Emotional Support. The non-profit was established by Paris’s heroes and funded by the government and generous donors, with the intention of serving the emotional needs of Paris’s citizens, especially those who had been akumatized, targeted by akumas, or generally traumatized by the terror that had gripped Paris for years. And normally, everyone at the Center loved him too. But that’s when he was here as Chat Noir.

Right now he was Adrien Agreste, son of the infamous Hawkmoth.

He could see the difference in everyone he had encountered already. Gus, the security guard, had given him a dirty look while he checked in. Carlie at the reception desk didn’t attempt to hide her slack-jawed expression. Lena, who was normally professional but friendly to Chat Noir, couldn’t meet his eye, and stumbled over his last name like she was uttering the most offensive curse.

It was nothing new, but it didn’t hurt any less.

Lena stepped aside and let Adrien pass into her office. She followed him inside, almost closing the door. She stopped before it clicked closed, swinging it open again and leaving it a few inches open. It was almost as if she was afraid of being closed into the room with him - like he was going to akumatize her just by being near.

Adrien swallowed back a scream of frustration and sat down.

“Well, M. Agreste,” Lena said, managing not to choke on his name this time, which Adrien hoped was a good sign. “Thank you for coming in to talk with me today.”

“Thank you for offering me an interview,” Adrien countered. As upset as he was at the reaction he had gotten so far at the Center, it was nowhere near as bad as all of the other places where he had applied for jobs. It seemed like, no matter what industry, and no matter what qualifications he had, no one wanted to hire a terrorist’s son.

It was a little crazy of him, applying for a job at the Center when he was often here as Chat Noir. But it was work he loved, a place he was happy, and… well… his dwindling trust fund could only last him for so long.

He wondered, briefly, what Ladybug would think if she knew.

“I...well…” Lena looked uncomfortable, like she didn't really want to offer him an interview but wasn’t given a choice. “Of course.” She took a deep breath before pasting on something of a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about what makes you interested in this position?”

“Of course. I have my degree in…” He trailed off, realizing that reciting his resumé wasn't going to get him anywhere. It never did. He went for some form of honesty. “Listen, you’ve got my resumé, you don’t want to hear that from me. I’m here because I think this is the most worthwhile work I could do. I want to help people. I know what it’s like to feel overwhelmed by your emotions, and to feel like you have no support and no one to turn to. I’d like to do anything I can do to help people who are struggling in that way.”

Lena gave an uncomfortable sigh. “That’s a wonderful sentiment, Adrien. I just… can I be honest with you?”

“I would appreciate that.”

She leaned both elbows on the desk, resting her chin on her folded hands. “Do you really think that it would bring people comfort to come here and see…?”

“The son of Hawkmoth,” he bitterly finished her sentence.

Lena winced, but didn’t back down. “I’m sorry if that seems harsh, but it’s reality.”

Adrien felt his carefully crafted professional façade start to crack. Maybe he should have thought this through before coming here. Now, he would never be able to think about Lena, or anyone else here, the same.

“Right,” he said, before he could let something more frustrated slip out. “Well, I guess I’ve taken up enough of your time.” He started to stand, but Lena gestured him back down.

“Not quite yet. The boss wants to speak with you.”

Adrien was confused - Lena was the head of human resources, she really didn’t have a boss - but made sure he didn’t show it. She pressed a button on the intercom, and they sat together in tense silence. A moment later there was a light knock on the door, and it was nudged open.

Ladybug walked into the room.

That was unexpected. Adrien was worried - did his presence in the building really warrant calling in the big guns? But at the same time, he felt a million times calmer. How could he not; after all, his best friend just came in.

“Hello,” Ladybug said, her voice and her eyes soft. She took a seat in the empty chair next to him.

Lena looked between them, clearly waiting for Ladybug to start talking. Ladybug looked back, annoyed, but if he didn’t know her so well, he never would have detected it. “Your application created quite the stir here, Adrien.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t really understand why I was called in, though,” Ladybug steamrollered over him. “I’ve never made hiring decisions before.”

“It’s not that,” Lena finally spoke. “We just thought that it would be helpful to have you on hand in this instance -”

“What?” Ladybug cut her off. “In case he akumatized someone?” Ladybug’s eyes were hard, and her tone was sharp. She was radiating righteous fury. “Might I remind you, Mlle. LaRoe, that Adrien was never accused of association with his father? That he was a minor at the time when Hawkmoth was active and apprehended, and by all means was just as much a victim of his father’s cruelty as the rest of Paris, if not more so? This entire organization was founded on the basis of understanding and respect, and I’m extremely disappointed to learn that this is the approach you had to Adrien’s desire to work here.”

“By showing a desire to come here, Adrien is demonstrating compassion, kindness, and empathy. The desire to help others and do something bigger than himself. By coming here, meeting with you, walking through the halls of this building while people looked out of the corners of their eyes and whispered and gossiped, Adrien is showing that he has the mental fortitude to overcome any adversity. Why, I think he’s the bravest, strongest, and most admirable person I’ve ever met. And if you don’t believe that that is the kind of person that I would want to work alongside, then you have no idea what true bravery and heroism really is.”

Ladybug was staring down Lena, who at least had the decency to look ashamed. Adrien couldn’t take his eyes off his partner, who had defended him with such ferocity, even though she didn’t know him. If possible, he fell a little deeper in love with her.

“I’m sorry,” Lena said, properly chastised.

Ladybug blinked, as if just realizing what had happened. Her cheeks pinkened slightly. “Well… I think that covers it.” She looked down, clearly embarrassed and scraped her toe along the edge of Lena’s desk.

“Of course.” Lena turned toward Adrien. “I think you would make a wonderful addition to the team, Adrien. We’ll do some research into which department would be the best fit for your skills.”

Adrien could barely believe his ears. Ladybug’s fierce exclamation on his character had earned him a job offer on the spot? “I… wow… thank you.”

“Actually,” Ladybug spoke up again, the coloring in her face now back to normal. “I was thinking of having him work with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.” She turned her body toward him. “Marinette works in program outreach. I think you two will work well together.”

Adrien held her gaze, feeling like something was passing between them. He wondered what it meant that she had come in with an idea of what department she wanted him in, and with someone in mind to work with.

“I’ll be in touch with an offer letter,” Lena said, standing. Adrien rose to meet her. This time, she was the one to reach out a hand for him to shake. He took it, feeling a million times better than when he first came in.

“I’ll walk you out,” Ladybug said, leaving no room for argument. He followed her in silence out of the office, down the hall, and past the reception desk. Carlie still didn’t hide the fact that she was staring, but her gaze meant nothing to him now.

Adrien didn’t speak until they reached the front doors. “Thank you, Ladybug, for what you said about me in there.”

Ladybug waved him aside. “I was just speaking the truth.”

“Not many people feel that way about me.”

Her eyes softened, and she reached out to touch his arm. “It's the truth that I see. I guess I never realized just how prejudiced people are about you until it hit home here.”

Adrien smiled at her. “So that’s why you went to bat for me like that?”

“Can I make a confession?” Ladybug bit her lip and waited for him to nod before continuing. “I was standing outside the office the whole time, and I heard what you said to Lena about feeling overwhelmed, and unsupported. That’s exactly why this company was started, and that’s exactly the type of people Chat and I envisioned staffing it.” Ladybug’s eyes gleamed suddenly, like they were sharing a private joke. “Speaking of Chat… you reminded me of him.”

He felt the old panic of his secret identity rising. “Chat? Chat Noir? Really?”

Ladybug’s smile was sheepish. “In a way. He… don’t tell him I said this, but he puts on a show. His big personality is there to hide just how vulnerable he can be sometimes. I know him pretty well and... let’s just say he didn't have the best upbringing either. So, you reminded me of him.”

As his heart rate settled back down, Adrien thought about it. Would it really be so bad if she knew he was Chat Noir? He knew that she cared for Chat, but after everything that happened with his father, he always feared that she would shy away from him if she learned that he was Adrien Agreste. But maybe today, he learned that he really didn’t have anything to worry about.

“That’s quite a compliment.”

Ladybug shrugged. “It's the highest compliment I can think of.” It looked like she wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words.

He decided to let her off the hook. “I should get going.”

“Of course,” she agreed, reaching out to shake his hand. He let his fingers envelope hers, the smooth texture of her suit sliding against his skin. “I’m glad you’ll be joining us.”

“You think I’ll be good in program outreach?”

She smiled again, this time full of warmth. Their hands were still connected. “I think it’s the perfect place for you. And I know Marinette will be eager to work with you.”

There was something there, a secret wrapped in her words and her smile and the glint in her eyes, but Adrien figured that he could start figuring that out once his job started. For now, he let himself bask in the warmth of Ladybug’s approval, and the knowledge that no matter what people did and said, she would always be in his corner.

[dramaqueeenamby]

Waves: Quarantine

A/N: It's been way too long since I've done something for the Wavesverse, and I apologize deeply. I have a few requests related to this series to complete, but I couldn't knock this idea.

Words: 4K

Warnings: None

Tags: @babe-im-bi @notacamelthatsmywife @missyperle @queenoftheworldisdead @tashawar @valkryienymph @letsshamelessqueen-m @hello-therree @mani-lifes @liquorlaughslove @toni9 @koko-michelle @theequeenofcurses @taylortheeshowpony

Waves

Summer placed her phone inside of the mount and made sure that it was secured before she sat back in her bed, getting comfortable with the mass of pillows supporting her back, and smiling tentatively. “Hi, guys.”

Summer!

Someone tell me this isn’t a joke???? Please???

She lives!

Sis, blink twice if you need help.

Summer rolled her eyes. “Ya’ll better stop. I know it’s been a minute since I’ve hopped on live, but it hasn’t been that damn long.”

Summer continued to read the comments where more than a few people pointed out she hadn’t gone live on Instagram in over three months. Her mouth dropped. “Ya’ll lying. It has not been almost six months, has it?” She placed her hand over her mouth when people started dropping dates in the comments. “Okay, I stand corrected. Damn, I’m sorry, guys.”

Don’t be sorry, bestie. Do better!

Damn, ya’ll are so entitled. Celebrities have lives too.

What life? We all been in quarantine.

Rich people quarantine be different from us poor folks, I guess.

“So that’s actually one of the things I wanted to talk about.” Summer cleared her throat. “And I’m going to try really hard to make sure I word what I want to say as clear and as effective as I can, but I know this is still going to end up as a salacious headline. So, it is what it is.”

Oooh, Summer about to drop some tea.

I don’t see her wedding ring, ya’ll…..

I’m scared omg.

Watch this be nothing but a role announcement.

She shrugged and took a deep breath. “Okay, so a few days ago, I did the Buss It challenge, after being harassed by Sanda. And can I just say that filming was a challenge in and of itself? Not necessarily the movements but preparing? I’ve got two kids, twins, who are like the Tasmanian devil. I was literally up at 3 something in the morning trying to record it because my wild children won’t let me be great.” She chuckled. “Kids are something else.”

Summer truly jumped through hoops and was a damn near acrobat trying to figure out when she could not only get herself done up but actually record the challenge. Being the perfectionist that she was didn’t help, but the fact that she couldn’t recall the last time she’d put on makeup and dressed up was a whole other fiasco.

Quarantine definitely brought out her bum side.

“All of that aside, I truly was satisfied and happy with the final product when I posted it. In hindsight, I should have just left it that, but I wake up every day and choose chaos, so I decided to read the comments.” She blew out a breath. “One of the most frequent comments and really, insults, I’ve received my whole career. Primarily, since I was cast as Storm, revolves around how I look. I.e., my weight. I’ve been called fat, obese, out of shape, and so many other things.”

It was 100% true. The minute Marvel announced that she’d been chosen to play Storm, the racists came all out of the woodworks. She was too short, too chubby, too dark, too black. And Summer didn’t care, not a bit.

“Even,—and I’ll tell you guys this, when I first started my SS training, that’s what I call it, SS for Storm Shape, there was a—person who worked for Marvel at the time who came to visit me while I was training.” She smiled thinking back on that day. She could still recall it so clearly. “He basically was pissed because to him, I still looked the same, fat and out of shape.” She adjusted her top and shifted in her bed. “That same day, I deadlifted and bench-pressed over 200lbs” She paused for effect. “What I need for people to stop doing is stop fucking projecting—and I’m going to cuss in this, so if you don’t like it, oh well. I work for Disney, but I’m a grown ass woman, and I’m going to say what I want.”

I am screaming. Summer said we getting alll the tea today!

So, it’s wrong to point out that someone is physically unhealthy now, cool?

The problem is that no one wants to see a fat superhero. It’s not realistic.

^^^^ Tell me you have a small dick without actually telling me you have a small dick.

“I saw Lizzo, whom I adore, post a Tik Tok where she basically said that she workouts to have the body she wants not what ya’ll want, and honestly? Same. She said that her body type is no one’s fucking business, and that’s so true. Ya’ll love to hop on this internet and pick apart people you don’t even know and criticize bodies you don’t even have to live in and move around with. And for what?” She shook her head, slamming her fist into her open palm as she spoke. She was fully invested now. “I know we in quarantine, but damn, pick another hobby cause being a bully is not it, sweetie.”

I really needed to hear this today.

Using Lizzo as a point of reference makes everything you’re saying null and void. Lizzo is clearly overweight and at risk for diabetes, heart disease, just to name a few…..

I been saying this! You can’t look at a person and say they’re unhealthy.

Bodies come in so many forms, and all are beautiful.

“Now, I bring all this up because a lot of people were commenting on my Buss It challenge and pointing out the fact that I’ve gained weight, and guess fucking what? I have, and you know what else?” She leaned over to whisper while covering her mouth with her hands for focused effect. “I don’t care.”

Summer laughed and shook her head. “As others have pointed out as well, yes, we have a gym in our house. I 1000% acknowledge the fact that having the resources that I do as a celebrity and someone who has money puts me in a different category. Hell, my husband has a whole fitness app. I recognize that. If I wanted to keep up with my workouts, emphasis on wanted, I could have. I own up to that, but I just didn’t feel like it, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is to send and leave mean messages calling me all kinds of names.”

Summer had thick skin. She always had. Growing up with her family, who always ensured to feed her self esteem and make sure she knew that she was beautiful, definitely paid off. It was just a combination of quarantine and not having a lot of opportunities to keep herself busy with work that had her feeling some type of way.

“And that’s something else I wanted to bring up.” She blew out another breath and tried to gather her emotions. This was the subject she was almost certain she’d grow teary eyed discussing. “I love my husband to death. My children are everything. Christopher’s family is like my own, but— I haven’t seen my family, like my mom, grandma, brothers, etc in almost a year.” She paused, dwelling on that. Almost an entire year since she’d been able to physically hug and interact with the people who made her who she was. “And I’ve always made it clear how much I fucking love my family. I live in Australia. I can’t do a drive by with grandma so I and my kids can at least see her on the doorstep.” She quieted again, eyes darting off as she quietly cursed. “I’m trying really hard not to cry right now.”

Please don’t cry, bestie.

This is the side of quarantine that people don’t talk about enough.

Has this woman never heard of FaceTime????

I feel her pain. I live in Europe, and my family is in the states. This quarantine has been brutal.

My grandma died from COVID, and I couldn’t even go to the funeral. Summer is bringing up a good point.

“Damn,” Summer chuckled bitterly and wiped at the tears that fell. “I’m okay, I promise. I just bring this up because quarantine has also been very hard for me in that aspect. At certain points, I’ve been down, I’ve been in my head a lot, and I just was not, for the most part, in a space where I felt like I had to keep up my fitness regimen. And that’s okay. I put my mental wellbeing ahead of making sure my body is socially acceptable. Sue me.”

I really appreciate her honesty.

Summer never goes beyond surface level in interviews, so seeing her this vulnerable is really surprising.

Are we supposed to feel bad for her? She’s rich. She can afford whatever help she needed.

These comments are not passing the vibe check.

Ya’ll are all mental health advocates, but when a black woman is opening up about her struggle, it’s discarded?

“And let me make this clear too, I have an amazing husband who is so patient and so kind. He’s one of the best people I can go to when my anxiety hits, so I don’t want this to come across as me complaining that I’ve been alone. I have him and our children. I just miss the rest of my family. That’s all.” She dried her eyes and started to read the comments, unsurprised by the mixed reaction. She expected as such and was unaffected. At least until she saw one comment.

@ChrisEvans: ❤️❤️❤️

“Evans!” Summer wasn’t expecting to see his name pop up. It’d been such a task convincing him to join IG, let alone teaching him how to operate it. “Let’s go live.”

Not my husband and wife in my head about to go live!!!!

Imagine being able to call Chris Evans your best friend

I still say they smashed idc

It’s Christopher Jamal Evans hopping on this live for me.

^^^ I’m so sick of y’all with that shit.

“Let me try to add him,” Summer spoke to herself, scrolling through the comments to find his so she could request him. “Alright, I requested him. Let’s see if he answers.”

She wondered if she should have sent him a text asking if he was available when he appeared on her screen, effectively splitting it with her on the top and him on the bottom.

“Punk.”

“Kid.”

Summer smiled and greeted, “Hi, best friend.”

He chuckled. “How you doing, Summer?”

“Clearly not as good as the people watching,” she chimed. Summer saw nothing but heart eyes and hearts in the comments. “These people really love you. You truly are a manipulative bastard. He’s an asshole, guys.”

“Don’t be jealous, Summer. It’s so unbecoming of you.”

“You can go to hell.”

“Language,” he playfully reprimanded. “Where are the kids?”

“At preschool. Things are finally starting to open back up over here. Thank God.” She clasped her hands together. “Y’all, please wear masks. Don’t be Karen’s.”

Chris laughed, grabbing his chest. “We’re getting there, Summer.”

“The lies you tell,” she countered. “Don’t A Starting Point, me. Ya’ll are far from getting there, and I’m tired of it. I wanna see my family.”

He sighed. “I know, but how are you feeling today?”

“I got rid of the kids, so that’s definitely a weight lifted,” she answered honestly, laughing when she saw judgmental comments in the chat. “Listen, if you’re a parent, you know where I’m coming from. You love your kids, but my god, sometimes you just need some space.”

“As soon as this all blows over, I told you to send em’ by me for a couple of weeks.”

“Best friend, I already purchased their tickets.” He laughed. “As soon as I get the green light, they are all yours. Feel free to keep them.”

“You guys see how she is?” He pointed to Summer, leaning and squinting to read what was being said. “I do love kids, especially the twins, they’re amazing.”

“He is really really great with them, guys,” Summer added. “One thing about Evans, he’s patient as hell and really, just a big kid. Why do you think him and Christopher get along so well? 40 going on 4.”

“I resent that.”

“Is it a lie though?”

He hesitated. “No.” They both laughed.

I’m loving the dynamic between these two so much.

Is it just me or are they flirting with each other…..

Ain’t nothing inappropriate about this conversation. Ya’ll are reaching…

Ya’ll remember that blind item that came out years ago alleging Chris (Evans) was the biological father of the twins? Hmm…..

^^^^^This kind of bullshit is the reason we’re in a global pandemic.

As always, Summer and Evans ignored any foolery that was being dropped in the comments when she caught a comment that didn’t contain some ridiculous rumor.

“Yes, it is true that Evans and Christopher weren’t allowed to do press together anymore. Ya’ll, they literally could not stay serious for more than a minute. I felt so bad for the poor interviewers.”

“Hey, we were not that bad,” Evans protested, his Boston accent more prominent.

She gasped. “You guys were terrible, Evans, and you know it. I was so mad when they put me with ya’ll those few times. I could barely hear the interviewers over your laughing and stupid commentary that literally no one asked for.”

“We did not.”

“There’s deadass video proof, Evans.”

“Fake news.”

She opened her mouth but caught herself. “I was about to say something.”

He laughed and asked, “Do you remember how we all got drunk before the Infinity War premiere?”

“No, ya’ll got drunk. I was big and pregnant, remember?”

“No,” he dismissed. “You were drinking with us.”

“Evans, how was I drinking when I was pregnant?” She challenged and reminded. “I got drunk with ya’ll for the Endgame premiere, not Infinity War.”

“That’s right,” he remembered and chuckled. “You think we’ll get in trouble for saying this?”

She shrugged with one shoulder. “You’re dead, Christopher never gets in trouble for anything, and I do what I want. I think we’re good.”

Kevin Feige watching this live right now like 🥴🥴🥴🥴

I never realized how arrogant she is……

LMAO. Not the whole cast showing up drunk to the biggest premiere of their lives.

Chris Evans is too damn fine to be approaching 40 and still single.

Their friendship is so goals omg

@ChrisHemsworth: Snitches

Summer’s jaw dropped as she caught the last comment, swiping up to click the name and make sure that she was reading correctly. “Christopher, what the hell are you doing on my live?”

Evans brows furrowed. “Hemmy is here? Shouldn’t he be working?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Summer supplied. “And how long have you been watching?”

@ChrisHemsworth: Long enough.

She smiled nervously and looked off to the side. “I feel weird now. I don’t like when he watches my lives.”

“Aren’t you guys married?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up?”

Evans lifted his hands in a defensive manner. “Touchy subject, I see.” They shared another laugh as he cleared his throat. “Why don’t you add him now? I’m supposed to be helping Scott cook.”

“My favorite Evans,” she gushed and furrowed her brows. “You, cooking? Since when?”

“Get out of here.” He waved her off and reminded. “I’m not the one who constantly causes near fires when in the kitchen.”

“So, you really just putting all my business out there like that?”

“Summer, it’s not secret to anyone that you can’t cook for shit.”

“Wow, it really be your own best friends.”

He chuckled. “Love you, kid.”

“Love you too, punk,” she blew a kiss. “I’ll text ya’ later.”

“Alright.” He smiled for the camera. “Thanks for having me everyone.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said jokingly. Evans and Summer said goodbye one last time before he left the live. She blew out a breath and ran her hand through her hair. “Baby, comment something so I can add you. It’s too many comments to wade through.”

Summer adjusted her phone and checked the time on the clock on the wall. It’d been a while since the kids were away at school, and she didn’t want to get so caught up that she was late picking them up.

@ChrisHemsworth: I can’t. I’m too drunk.

Summer released a mixture of a laugh and a snort reading his comment. “You are so damn petty.” She clicked his name and adjusted her outfit while waiting for him to answer. She almost cursed when it seemed like he wasn’t going to join, only for her to smile when his face appeared on her screen.

“Hi,” she greeted in a soft voice with a small smile.

“Hello, Sandcastle.”

“Did you just—I swear to god, it’s always something with you.” Summer rubbed her temples and shook her head. Christopher smiled in response. “Why aren’t you working?”

“I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re working, how are you talking to me?” She asked, sassily.

“Umm, a little thing called multitasking, ever heard of it?”

“Wow. You are an asshole.”

“That’s mean.”

“You’re mean.”

“Christopher, you are literally a child.”

“Does a child have muscles like this?” He flexed, and Summer stilled. Christopher stayed in ridiculous shape, but this was another level. He’d never been this massive, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that. Just not aloud.

She faked a yawn. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

They really just be roasting each other all the time, and I’m here for it.

Summer must be legally blind because this man is stupid fine tf

It’s gotta be steroids. That’s not natural.

^^^^^He’s the god of thunder.

Summer rolled her eyes at the typical nature of the comments. These were the reasons she limited her time on social media and especially stayed away from reading the comments. Her attention was redirected to the top of her phone. It was a text from Christopher asking her to call him.

“But we’re—oh, I get it.” She realized he wanted to talk to her, not her and her tens of millions of followers. “Alright, guys, I’m gonna get off here so I can talk to my husband, alone.”

“She just doesn’t want to share me with you all, that’s all.”

“Don’t even start, Christopher,” she lectured while he laughed and got serious, for a minute tops.

“Hope you all are taking care and staying safe,” he spoke honestly. “And we’ll talk to you soon.”

Summer waved and smile. “Bye, guys. Remember to be kind.” Summer offered a final smile before ending the live. Closing up the app, she moved to open FaceTime and called up Christopher. He answered almost immediately. “You know I hate when you watch my Lives. Now, how much did you see?”

“Enough to know you’re coming to see me tonight.”

She laughed aloud. “Funny.”

“I’m serious, Summer.” Focusing on him, she realized that there was no humor in his voice nor his expression. Summer also noticed that he didn’t have the Thor wig on yet, which was probably why he was able to go live with her. He was waiting to get into hair and makeup. “Leave the kids with Liam. It’s not like he’s doing anything.”

“Christopher!”

“What? Is he not a professional unemployed bastard.”

Summer’s smile remained as she shook her head. “You are so mean.”

“I’ll handle the flight arrangements. You, my beautiful wife, just make sure you get on the jet so I can handle you.”

“Christopher, you’re working. People with everyday jobs don’t just up and show up to their spouses workplace because they miss them or need a break from the kids. That’s how folks get fired.”

Christopher started to move around, walking somewhere, she realized. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, Tike.”

Summer’s eyes widened slightly. “Christoper!”

“Sup, man?” Taika asked casually, as Summer laughed again. Taika Waititi was such a character.

“You mind if Summer comes up for a few days?”

“Sure, man,” he replied almost right away. “Bring the kids and chickens too.”

“I am not bringing those damn chickens,” she immediately protested.

Christopher made a sound. “Ha, so you are coming!”

“I didn’t say that.”

Taika joined Christopher so that he was in camera. “Hey, Summer, why don’t you come on join? You can have a cameo. Chickens, too.”

She rubbed her temples. Taika’s and Chris’s friendship would never not make sense to her. They were cut from the same cloth. “One, hey. Two, I was already in Ragnarok. I’m good on the cameos. Three, what is with ya’ll and those creepy looking chickens?”

“Whoa, creepy? What did the chickens ever do?”

“Exist,” Summer answered dryly. She still hadn’t forgiven Evans and Christopher for convincing her to let the kids keep those damn things. Her home was becoming more and more of a farm with each animal that joined the household.

“Tough crowd, that one, ehh?”

“Always,” Christopher agreed.

“I can hear you both,” she reminded and groaned loudly. Summer would love to spend a few days away from the kids. Chris would be working, yes, but she’d at least get some time for herself. Even better, alone adult time with her husband. That had also been a bit tricky during quarantine because of her rambunctious twins. Still, she disliked using her status as a celebrity to gain things, and this would definitely be a case of using status for pull. “I don’t know….”

Deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that Chris had walked away and returned to wherever he was prior to finding Taika, most likely his trailer.

“What if you only stayed a night?” Chris tried to bargain. “The flight is only an hour and a half. That will give you more than enough time to come here, let me fix you dinner, run you a nice bath, maybe get in the good ole’ horizontal tango—”

“You know I hate when you call it that,” she reminded quietly, admitting. “That does sound nice, though.”

“Or, I can come to you—“

“Absolutely not. Christopher, you’re already doing so much back and forth as it is.” One of the good things to come out of quarantine, to Summer at least, was that it forced many people to take a much needed break. Her husband was one of those people. Christopher had been working nonstop since she met him. Project after project, film after film, many of them Marvel films, which put a whole other layer of difficulty what with the strenuous physical requirements. Even now as he shot Thor 4, he was in the best shape he’d ever been, muscles nearly tearing the cotton of his clothes. He looked amazing, but it was what they couldn’t see that she was starting to grow a little concerned over. Christopher wasn’t as young as he once was. He had to slow down, eventually.

Summer realized this would be a perfect chance to have a conversation about just that with him, which all but led her to her final decision.

“Alright,” she conceded, finger up as she made her demands. “Three days, and I stay at the house while you shoot. We may be returning to normal, but we’re still in a pandemic. I won’t go around anyone except you.”

“So I get you all to myself? Hardly consider that a stipulation.”

“And…we talk.”

“After the horizontal tango—“

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop calling it that—“

“What was that, sweetheart? I wasn’t listening.” She saw that he had paused the screen, causing Summer to remember that she hadn’t even consulted with the babysitter. “Making flight arrangements for you.”

“Shit, let me text Liam and make sure he’s available.”

“He gets reception in the box?”

“Christopher! For the last time, your brother is not living in a box.”

“Do you know that for certain?”

“Goodbye, Christopher,” she prepared to end the call before smiling softly. “I love you, Christopher, and thank you.”

He winked. “I’ll always do anything for you, Summer. Anything.” A beat. “Don’t forget to leave the clothes. You won’t need them.”

“Christopher!”

[whosscruffylooking]

Instinct Part Two: Interrogations and Intrigue (Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader)

A/N: I'm super excited for this part. Spencer and Reader’s relationship finally has some foundation!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings! Mentions of suicide and manipulation. 

(Reader’s POV)

I tap my foot anxiously as I peer around the bland and intimidating interrogation room. It looks like something out of a mental asylum in a 1980's horror movie. They want me frightened? They got me.

Count Dracula barges in abruptly and sits opposite from me. I wince at the sound of the metal chair scraping against the cement floor.

“My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner. I'd like to take a moment to get your description of the man who broke into your apartment," he shows no emotion.

I nod, "Well, he had his hood up and a bandana on, but from what I could tell, he had green eyes...maybe blue...or hazel. I'm sorry, I'm not a hundred percent sure. He was just a little bit taller than me, so maybe 5'8 or 9. He climbed out of my window, so clearly, he's at least slightly athletic. He disguised his voice; he made it sound almost like Batman."

He writes down some notes. A statement that the other agent presented to me at the crime scene puzzles me. I decide to inquire for myself.

"The other agent..." "Dr. Reid?" "No, Emma? Emily?" "Yes, Agent Prentiss." "Yes, her. She told me at the ambulance that I might be the key to solving this. What did she mean by that? This wasn't just a one-off robbery? How could it involve me?"

He purses his lips, obviously pondering the right response, "What do you know of the Nomad Boys?"

My heart rate rises, but I promptly disguise my anxiety. "You get straight to the point, don't you," I quip, "I know that they used to operate about a block from my old neighborhood growing up. A lot of people have lost their lives because of them. Both figuratively and literally."

"Are you aware of your brother's involvement with them?" Agent Hotchner examines me.

I gasp. What kind of game is he playing here? I shift uneasily in my seat, "Excuse me?"

"We have significant evidence that your brother Jeremy was involved with the Nomad Boys from 2015 until his death."

I slam my fist on the table, "How dare you. How dare you bring my brother up and implicate him in illegal activities that he had no part in. Is this what you people do? You're so desperate to close a case that you can't admit defeat in then you pin it on people who aren't even here to defend themselves?"

"You seem relatively defensive yourself. Care to explain why?" The emotionless man taunts.

"Two hours ago, I was the victim of a failed robbery, and now I'm being interrogated by the feds about my dead brother? Is that not a good enough reason to get defensive?" I clamor back. 

Tears sting my eyes and threaten to spill over as I dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand, trying frantically to suppress my growing rage. He watches me like a predator to its prey. The sound of my rapid heartbeat muffles my hearing. I can feel my skin heat up with anger. I stare right back, eager to display my disdain for his treatment.

"If you'd excuse me," he gathers his files and leaves the room. I exhale shakily and hastily wipe the stray tears from my eyes, desperate to gain my composure.

(Spencer's POV)

Hotch exits the interrogation room and clutches my shoulder, "You're up. She knows more than she's letting on, even if she doesn't realize it. She will feel more comfortable with you." "Hotch...I-I feel like maybe Emily or Morgan should go in. Not me." "Why?" He glares at me. I swallow the lump in my throat. 

I have a job to do.

"Forget about it," I say, stepping past him into the dimly lit room. She looks up at me with pleading eyes, silently begging me not to put her through what Hotch did. I sit across from her, noticing her obsessive picking at the skin of her fingers. Her knee bounces and lightly taps against the underside of the table.

She takes a deep breath and breaks the stillness, "Whatever it is they are thinking, it's not true. None of it is true. They're wrong." 

"Y/N, I appreciate your willingness to cooperate and come back to the precinct with us and sit in here to be interviewed." 

She throws her head back and laughs, "My willingness to cooperate?Interviewed? You mean interrogated, right?"

"I know this must feel like an ambush," I say, and she jeers, "but I promise if you just hear us out, the sooner we can rule you and your brother out of this." 

She sits up, eyes wide, her posture defensive, "You just said my brother and me. Am I a suspect too? For god's sake, I don't even know what we are suspected of! Do you think I'm apart of the Nomad Boys too?" 

Strike one, Spencer. Don't screw up again.

"I didn't mean it like that, y/n." 

"But you said it," she crosses her arms.

"I need to ask you some questions about your brother's death." 

"I'm going to be sick. Screw you, Dr. Reid." 

I can't manipulate her. I don't want to. I can't use months of researching her to achieve our agenda. 

It doesn't feel right. Why doesn't it feel right? 

But for the efficiency and success of this case, it's required.

"Every day, you wake up in fear of the nightmares that haunt you each night. You live with the images of your brother engrained in your mind. The patterns he used to follow every day have now been adopted by you, most likely in an attempt to keep his spirit alive somehow. You are constantly looking over your shoulder because, still to this day, aspects of his death leave you unsettled and uncertain. You opened the door today because you were under the impression that the person on the other side would be able to offer you insight into your brother's death. He couldn't because he had another agenda, but I can. I can give you that insight; I just need you to work with me." 

I watch as she struggles to fight the pain that comes from masking her fear. I got to her. 

Why do I feel so guilty? 

Her lip trembles as she begins to speak, "I know he didn't kill himself. That's all." "What makes you so sure?"

She releases a sob and then grapples with composing herself, "B-because he loved his family. He loved life. His girlfriend was pregnant; he was going to be a father. What kind of man who was so family-oriented and had such a bright future ahead of him would do that to himself, to his future child?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize he had a child." "Aren't you guys supposed to know stuff like that? Shouldn't you come in here armed and ready with any ammunition needed to break me down?" She cocks her head. "We do. We try to find out all vital information on our suspects and those connected with them." "That's how you know that I follow the same routine as my brother? Have you been watching me?"

I can feel a bead of sweat drip down the back of my neck; I reach my hand around to pat it off and to buy myself time to come up with a sufficient answer. She chuckles, "You don't have to answer that. I've seen you and Count Dracula in there tailing me."

My heart stops, and I swallow unexpectedly, slightly choking in the process. "For professionals, you sure don't take into consideration the fact that most people are suspicious of black SUVs now...mainly because of tv shows. Black Suburbans with tinted windows are either law enforcement or a celebrity. And judging by the fact that no celebrity would ever willingly set foot in my town, I was quickly able to determine which I was looking at every Monday and Friday from 10am to 5:30pm. You should really try getting some red cars, maybe blue, just try and blend in a bit." 

"Actually," I begin falling back on my knowledge as a way to diffuse the situation, "Any vehicle, when suitably modified, can be utilized as a police vehicle, but the most prevalent are those produced or altered by manufacturers for the role of being a police vehicle."

"Validation and dissemination: am I making you uncomfortable, Dr. Reid?" She raises her eyebrow. I adamantly shake my head, "Not at all. I was merely dissecting your point and proving it to be a failed tactic to intimidate me."

She looks at me keenly, but not in the way she had looked at Hotch. No, she peers at me as if striving to convey a message, an offer to be her ally. While locked into her gaze, I can't help but study her. Contrary to all of the times we followed her, hidden within the shelter of our car, I can now learn her up close. She is attractive in a flawed, approachable way. Her vulnerability camouflages a might that even she doesn't perceive exists.

(Reader's POV)

I study him thoroughly. He baffles me. A man in the station he is, maintaining the job he has, and bearing the weight of both victims and perpetrators on his shoulders, should be coarse, bitter, emotionless, much like the first agent who grilled me. Yet, here he is, eyes lighting up when he starts to spout off facts. His nervous ticks overflow, making it seem like he is incapable of withholding the truth of what this job does to him. He doesn't want to put me in this position. He's not like the standard brute that treats this job, and it's prey as if they are nothing but a bridge to walk over to get appreciation and approval.

"I want to help you," he proposes in a hushed tone.

"I know," I whisper, easing back in my seat. 

Unexpectedly, he offers me a wink and then stands from his chair. Stepping over to the door, he clasps the doorknob but delays for a moment. I look at him in anticipation. Looking back at me, he declares, "I'm going to get you answers. I promise you that." And with that, he's disappeared behind the two-way glass. A feeling of being left alone in an alternate universe overwhelms me. 

Spencer is somewhere out there on the side of the good guys, his reputation untainted, with the certainty that he will be going home tonight. I, on the other hand, have lived in uncertainty since my brother died. Here I sit, on the side of the glass that is riddled with darkness and evil. Spencer lives in a world of heroes. But I have been subjected to the world of criminals. I have a feeling, though, that I won't have to navigate it alone. 

Tag list:

@mcntsee

[girlactionfigure]

There is a popular quote that circulates every once in a while that reads “One person can make a difference and everyone should try.”

This individual holds a special place in my heart and also the hearts of many long-time Peace Page followers, who found this page after reading a simple story which mentioned her and which became one of the most popular posts on the Peace Page. Her name is Harriet Glickman, she is the teacher who decided to write a letter to Charles Schulz and ask him if he could create a black character on his Peanuts comic strip - that character would become Franklin, one of the first black characters in a popular comic strip. Harriet Glickman passed away Friday morning, March 27, 2020, at her home in Sherman Oaks. She was 93. Her passing was reported by a Peanuts-based website, which quoted a personal friend who said, her passing was "peaceful, in her sleep" and that the former schoolteacher had been "well prepared for this." They say representation matters, and Franklin, even though he was a fictional character, was noticed by many who did not feel they were being represented enough during those days. The original Peace Page post started: "On July 31, 1968, a young, black man was reading the newspaper when he saw something that he had never seen before. With tears in his eyes, he started running and screaming throughout the house, calling for his mom. He would show his mom, and, she would gasp, seeing something she thought she would never see in her lifetime. Throughout the nation, there were similar reactions. "What they saw was Franklin Armstrong's first appearance on the iconic comic strip "Peanuts." Although Charles Schulz deserves the accolades and credit for having the courage to create Franklin and standing by him when he started receiving racist demands to remove him, it was all started by a school teacher who decided to write a simple letter. "Harriet has a very interesting place in history," according to The LAist. "In 1968, she wrote to 'Peanuts' creator Charles Schulz asking him to do something remarkable at the time: integrate his famous comic strip." "Harriet Glickman was a white, 42-year-old suburban Los Angeles school teacher and mother raising three children when Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968," according to the Press Telegram. According to NPR, she wrote, “Since the death of Martin Luther King, 'I’ve been asking myself what I can do to help change those conditions in our society which led to the assassination and which contribute to the vast sea of misunderstanding, hate, fear and violence.'” Glickman decided to write a letter to Schulz, not knowing whether he would actually read it or even whether he would receive the letter. Glickman was especially aware of the power of comics among the young. “And my feeling at the time was that I realized that black kids and white kids never saw themselves [depicted] together in the classroom,” she said in the Washington Post. She hoped this would bring the country together and show people of color that they are not excluded from American society. At the time, Schulz, the creator of the enormously popular “Peanuts” comic strip, was already being "published in hundreds of newspapers around the United States reaching nearly 100 million readers," according to the Press Telegram. Surprisingly, Schulz did respond, but wasn't sure whether it would be right, coming from him, he didn't want to make matters worse, he felt that it may sound condescending to people of color. Glickman persisted, however, continuing her correspondence with Schulz, even having black friends write to Schulz and explain to him what it would mean to them. She told Schulz that "the gentleness of the [Peanuts would be] 'the perfect setting' for such representation," according to CBR. “I am well aware of the very long and tortuous road ahead,” she added. “I’m sure one doesn’t make radical changes in so important an institution without a lot of shock waves from syndicates, clients, etc. You have, however, a stature and reputation which can withstand a great deal.” This conversation would continue until one day, Schulz told Glickman to check her newspaper on July 31, 1968. On that date, the cartoon, as created by Schulz, shows Charlie Brown meeting a new character, named Franklin. Other than his color, Franklin was just an ordinary kid who befriends and helps Charlie Brown. In a speech at American University of Health Sciences in Signal Hill, California in 2018, talking to a group of children and adults, Glickman said, the 1960s in the United States was “a time long before any of you were born, a time when not everyone was understanding of other people, when young African Americans couldn’t go to the same beach as white children and when schools were separate.” According to the Press Telegram, the Rev. Gregory Johnson, co-founder of American University of Health Sciences who invited Glickman to the event, said he wanted her to know what a profound effect her action with Schulz had on him. “I appreciate so much what you did in improving relations. I wouldn’t be here without you,” he said. Glickman was born in Sioux City, Iowa, and lived in Chicago before moving to Southern California and a job in the Burbank School District and eventually UCLA before retiring. Glickman explained in previous interviews that her parents were "concerned about others, and the values that they instilled in us about caring for and appreciating everyone of all colors and backgrounds — this is what we knew when we were growing up, that you cared about other people . . . And so, during the years, we were very aware of the issues of racism and civil rights in this country [when] black people had to sit at the back of the bus, black people couldn’t sit in the same seats in the restaurants that you could sit . . . Every day I would see, or read, about black children trying to get into school and seeing crowds of white people standing around spitting at them or yelling at them . . . and the beatings and the dogs and the hosings and the courage of so many people in that time." Glickman, according to The LAist, said someone once commented to her that "‘It took courage [to do what she did, to make a stand].’ I said, ’No it didn’t, it didn’t take courage for me to sit in Sherman Oaks in my comfortable home with my three children and type a letter.'" "Courage," she said, "was little Ruby Bridges, the little girl who integrated a school in the south who had to come with the National Guard with people spitting at her and yelling at her and throwing things at her and the parents who drew their children out. That was courage." Because of Glickman, because of Schulz, people around the world were introduced to a little boy named Franklin, and even today, when Franklin is mentioned, fond memories are evoked, such as those like the young, black man, who with tears in his eyes, started running and screaming throughout the house because he was introduced to Franklin for the first time. Barbara Brandon-Croft, the first African American woman to have a nationally syndicated comic strip in the mainstream press, was 10 years old in 1968, said, “I remember feeling affirmed by seeing Franklin in ‘Peanuts.’ ‘There’s a little black kid! Thank goodness! We do matter.’" When the Peace Page first shared its story about Franklin's birth, one Peace Page reader commented, "I normally don't comment on Facebook but I feel compelled to now. As a black child growing up in the 70's and 80's U grew up in mostly white neighborhoods. One of the most difficult things at that time is my sense of where I belonged in the world. I didn't have anybody in my position i could relate to on TV or in the movies. Then I started reading Peanut cartoons and I met Franklin and I saw myself for once. As a character, Franklin was so important to me I named my third son after him. thank you . . . for helping me find my place." That Peace Page story has now reached 22,498,877 people, receiving 2,091,450 reactions. It has inspired an Upworthy article and has been shared all over the world, including by media companies in Australia and Italy. When the Peace Page contacted the Charles M. Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa, California, one of the representatives said that Glickman regularly visited the museum and she was fondly called "Franklin's Mom." When she saw that Peace Page post, she commented on the Peace Page, "It's always a joy for me to share the Franklin story. I consider him my fourth child and he is very much loved." In the speech in 2018 at American University of Health Sciences, she told the audience that it still “feels like yesterday [when Franklin was introduced].” She said some things have changed, but others have not. “We still have so many problems on how we see each other,” she said in an article by the Press Telegram. She told the children: “You can make a difference in making the world a better place. When you see something that makes you feel angry or upset, don’t just complain, do something about it. And remember that we all care for each other; we’re all the same loving, caring people.” She then autographed a book introducing Franklin to Charlie Brown, “Nice to Meet You, Franklin!” and urged each youngster “to make a difference.” Thank you, Harriet Glickman, also, for making a difference and making the world a better place. [Photo courtesy of CBR]

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

[babbysquid]

Not A Whiskey Drinker Pt. 2

Author’s Note: Oh my goodness thank you all for the positive feedback on NAWD! I’m really enjoying writing this and living out my own fantasy. The DRAMA begins in the part after this so prepare yourself for that!

Warnings: mild cursing

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

Sunday had passed by quickly and it was now Monday at 8am. Your interview was at 9. You studied your reflection in the mirror. You were wearing the outfit that Parker had helped you pick out but had the shirt buttoned all the way up. Grabbing your bag you and throwing on your shoes you looked at yourself one more time. Chewing the inside of your cheek you took a deep breath.

“Fuck it.” you whispered to and you unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt, just as Parker had done previously.

You stood outside a tall office building and looked up. It looked modern and new, but not imposing. Swallowing hard you pushed your shoulders back, raised your head up, and strutted through the front door. Fake it til you make it as they say.

“Hi I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” you said to the receptionist at the front desk. “I have an interview with Mr. Daniels.”

“Ah yes Mr. Daniels has been expecting you. Give me one second and I’ll take you to his office.” said the receptionist.

“Ah it’s okay Sara, I got it.” said a voice from behind you.

Turning around you saw a gorgeous woman. She wore a white button down and black slacks. Her short haircut was modern and cute. It suited her face really well. Thick glasses sat on the edge of her nose. She gave you a kind smile. Looking at her outfit and her appearance in general you suddenly felt self conscious. Maybe you should’ve stuck with the fully buttoned up shirt.

“I’m Ginger.” she said, extending her hand.

You took her hand in yours as you introduced yourself and the two of you walked to the elevators.

“So you have an interview with Jack?”

You nodded.

She laughed a little and it almost seemed like she was taking pity on you.

“He’s a good guy, but he’s definitely a character. He means well though.”

You smiled back. New York City was definitely filled with interesting and strange people. Your mind quickly thought back to the cowboy you met on Friday.

The elevator dinged and stirred you from your thoughts. Ginger guided you to a pair of mahogany doors.

“Well. This is where I leave you. Good luck Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

Taking a deep breath you knocked on the door and waited. A second later you heard some footsteps and you mentally prepared yourself for whoever was inside. The door swung open and your jaw dropped. You couldn’t help it.

Before you stood the same cowboy that had prevented your fall. Quickly you snapped your jaw shut. He was just as handsome as you remember, if not more handsome. He was still wearing his black stetson. Instead of the long camel coat he wore when he was in the park he was wearing a blazer with matching slacks. The blazer had a classic cowboy look but was still somehow modern. You flicked your eyes down to confirm your guess, he was wearing cowboy boots. He was wearing a pair of simple wire glasses and they looked good on him.

“Well isn’t this a coincidence?” said the man, “Come in, please.”

He stepped aside allowing you to enter the office.

For as modern as the building appeared, Mr. Daniels’ office felt lived in and warm. It was covered in mahogany and leather. An old globe sat on a shelf and other bits and bobs decorated the office, including what appeared to be a cow skull. You didn’t realize you were staring until Mr. Daniels’ honeyed voice made you blink.

“It’s real if that’s what you’re thinking.” he said.

You turned and realized he was much closer than you thought, practically close enough to touch you. You swallowed hard. He smelled good.

“Well let’s get started, shall we?” he said, stepping back and motioning to a chair that sat in front of his desk.

Wordlessly you moved to the chair and sat down. The whole act of confidence you had suddenly vanished. Mr. Daniels was slightly intimidating and holy hell was he attractive.

“Now Y/N — you don’t mind if I call you that?” Mr. Daniels asked.

“Y/N is fine yes.” you said, slightly unsure about the familiarity. Your previous job you were never addressed by your first name, it was always Ms. Y/L/N.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, swiveling in his chair to grab a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from behind him.

You smiled, appreciating the offer but politely declined.

“I’m actually not a whiskey drinker.” you said. Mr. Daniels laughed loudly as if he knew something you didn’t.

“I know it’s odd that I’m here interviewing for a whiskey company Mr. Daniels—

“Please, call me Jack.” he interrupted.

“…Jack,” you said slowly “but I promise I’ll be dedicated even if it’s not my drink of choice.”

Jack smiled and poured himself a glass of the amber liquid. Leaning back in his chair he studied you. Feeling his gaze on you, you gave him a small smile, trying to convince him that you really would work hard.

“Well Y/N,” he said after a second, “you got the job!”

Your brows furrowed. There was absolutely no way he was serious. He only asked if you wanted a drink, the company’s drink no less, and you said no. No interview questions, no asking for documents or recommendations. Nothing.

“I know you might be surprised but here at Statesmen we like to do things a little differently. And don’t worry about not liking whiskey. Who knows though, you may warm up to it.” he said, giving you a wink.

“This certainly was the easiest interview I’ve ever done.” you whispered under your breath. But according to the booming laugh that came out of the man sitting in front of you, your whisper wasn’t quiet enough.

“I assure you Y/N that you’ve already gone through an extensive interview process. The company has contacted past employers of yours and done copious amount of research and background checks into your resume. It may have been easy on your end, but not on ours.”

‘Certainly the weirdest interview I’ve ever done too.’ you thought.

“Well!” said Jack, clasping his hands together and standing up from his chair. “You start tomorrow. Let me give you a quick tour so you can settle in easy tomorrow.” In a flash he was around the desk and holding his hand out to you, a million dollar smile on his face.

Letting out a short breath you pushed away your anxiety and trepidation. If this was gonna be your new job you may as well start acting like your normal self. You grabbed his hand with assurance and stood up from your seat.

Neither one of you moved.

Standing there your eyes were glued to the sight of your hand being dwarfed by his. Slowly your eyes moved up to meet Jack’s. They were the most gorgeous shade of brown. Dark but still with a warmth and spark that drew you in. The glasses he wore framed them perfectly. Subconsciously you lightly bit your bottom lip. You blinked and the trance was broken. Slowly you removed your hand from his, but your palm was still tingling from the skin to skin contact.

“Thank you by the way.” you said breaking the silence.

Jack gave you that smile again and it felt like your internal organs had been turned to soup.

“Don’t worry about it darlin’. I’m quick on my feet and happened to see a beautiful young woman in need so I helped.”

You almost choked at the words he spoke.

“Let me show you to your space.” said Jack, his hand moving to lightly sit on the middle of your back.

In any other professional circumstance if someone did this to you you’d immediately call HR. In this instance however Jack’s gesture felt comforting and gentlemanly, not creepy and an intrusion of personal space. To summarize, you enjoyed his touch.

The two of you strode out the doors and walked a short distance down the hall to a door. Leading you inside Jack explained how this would be your personal office. You had never had a private space just for yourself in your workplace. You laughed softly.

“Something funny?” said Jack, looking down at you, hand still on your back.

“Never had my own space before. This place is almost bigger than my apartment.” You looked up at him with shining eyes. Jack swallowed thickly. Your big eyes were something else and certainly affecting him.

“Hah. Well I just hope you don’t move in here! Gotta have a separation between work and play.” said Jack, winking at you.

You could feel your face heating up at the comment as Jack led you out of the room and your heart was beating faster than it should’ve. Unbeknownst to you, so was Jack’s. He wasn’t expecting his new PA to be the gorgeous girl from the park. Admittedly he had thought about you a couple times since, beating himself up for not inviting you to coffee or something.

Outside of your new office stood Ginger.

“Ah sweet Ginger!” said Jack, removing his hand from your back. You silently mourned the loss of contact.

“This is my new peach of an assistant Y/N.”

“I know Jack.” said Ginger, rolling her eyes. “How do you think she found your office?”

“Always one step ahead Miss Ginger.” said Jack, flashing his smile again.

“Come with me Y/N and we’ll get you put in the system.”

“Pleasure meeting you darlin’ and I cannot wait til tomorrow.” said Jack, winking one last time before turning on his heel and sauntering back into his office.

“Is he always like that?”

“He’s always been a ladies man. You may be his assistant but make sure he knows who’s in charge. Keep him on a short leash.”

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

“So how was it?” Parker asked, taking a bite out of her pizza. She had come over to eat dinner with you and get all the juicy details about the job interview.

“Weird. I mean I got the job, but it was still weird.”

“First off yay! Secondly, what do you mean weird?”

“Well the building was way more high tech than I expected but the thing that was the weirdest was the interview itself. The only thing he asked me was if I wanted a glass of whiskey.”

“To which you said no.”

“Yeah…” you trailed off.

“I know that look Y/N. What’s on your mind?”

“Jack Daniels is the cowboy from the park.”

Thankfully Parker had swallowed her bite of pizza before hearing this, otherwise there’d be a chewed up wad of cheese on your floor.

“WHAT?”

“He was acting kind of flirty too.”

“So you did unbutton the shirt!” Parker said, a look of pride on her face.

“Parker that’s not the point. Afterwards when I was talking to the head of networking and media she explained that Jack is like this with every woman. The hat I need to show him who’s in charge, even if he is my boss.”

“That’s hot.” said Parker taking another bite.

“Shut up he’s my boss.” you said, pushing her shoulder. “I get what she’s saying though. I’ve dealt with guys like that before. Admittedly they were in their 20s and went to the same college as me and weren’t actually adults who I worked with.”

“How old does this guy look anyways?” Clearly Parker had a different agenda than you.

“Parker…” you gave her a glare.

“Okay okay message received.” she put up her hands in mock defense.

You looked down at your pizza slice and picked at the bit of cheese that had slid off of it.

“So how’re you gonna fend him off while still creating a good relationship?”

“Guess I gotta use that stubbornness you were talking about earlier.” you said giving her a small grin.

taglist: @absurdthirst @space-daddy-owns-me @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 6)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2313 Warnings: none

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 5 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Buzzing. There was constant buzzing in your ear, a combination of all the sounds around you blurring into an indiscernible mix you forced yourself to focus on. The steady drone is too slow for the quickened bounce of your leg shaking against the floor of the Uber that’s bringing you to your destination much faster than you expected. Your stomach is twisted in painful knots that sear deeper as you see the illuminated sign of Metro-General Hospital.

The way you’re feeling makes you want to head left through the emergency room doors but instead you charge ahead towards the main entrance. After giving your name you move to the side and await instructions from the security guard.

The buzzing hasn’t stopped though you quickly realize the pulsating vibrations were coming from your phone inside your bag. Quickly checking it you saw a text from Bucky wishing you good luck on the interview. You smiled seeing his name, feeling a moment of relief.

There was a shift in the air after you opened up to him the night before about why social work meant so much to you. Bucky had a much clearer understanding of you, commending the drive you had to come so far even with the obstacles you faced. You exchanged numbers before he left, acknowledging that Bucky was no longer just your neighbor but someone you considered a new friend.

The security guard hands you a visitor ID and gives you instructions to get to Ms. Rodriguez’s office from the elevator. Smoothing out your blouse you gave a friendly smile to the fellow passengers that entered as the doors opened to almost every floor on the journey up.

Two right turns and then a left at the nurses’ station until you found the corridor with blue doors. You rang the bell that buzzed a second later and pushed open the now unlocked door to enter an open room. A woman sits at a desk in front, gesturing for you to sit down on the row of chairs behind you as she continues her phone conversation.

Her desk is covered in a stack of thick manila folders, with one file open in front of her that she references on the call. You try not to eavesdrop despite being right there so you move your head slowly to observe the rest of the room. Cubicle walls divide a few other desks beside her. The walls are lined with tall file cabinets and a large potted Ficus drinks up the sunshine in the corner.

At the back of the room is a door that unexpectedly swings open, having been pulled so hard it seemed like it could have come off the hinges. A tall slim girl is scowling as her boots stomp down the hallway. She’s dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket as dark as her loose, uncombed hair. A woman steps out from the doorway, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Follow protocol Ms. Jones and we’ll get him.”

The girl turned around scoffing, “We’ll get him faster if I throw his ass through a wall.”

“Jessica,” she warned, flaring her eyes at the girl in a silent challenge.

It only took a moment for you to realize the woman was Ms. Rodriguez and suddenly your stomach began flipping again.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” she asked and you nodded, standing up to greet her with a handshake and a smile.

She asked you to follow her into her office, watching her thick braid sway as she walked ahead of you, holding the door open for you to enter. Her office wasn’t very big, or maybe it only felt that way since it was surrounded by even more large file cabinets.

“I apologize for that,” she began, “Jessica thinks using her fists might yield more results. This is a tough field, tell me what you wish to get out of it.”

Having recounted the full story with Bucky you were emotionally prepared to discuss all aspects of why you wanted to go into this field and it was clear to Ms. Rodriguez that you wanted to make a difference in the lives of those you were advocating for.

Her fingers twirled the large silver cross around her neck as she stared at you, your nerves rising under her silent gaze. Her face eventually relaxed into a smile and the weight was lifted from your shoulders as she welcomed you aboard as an intern. You couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across your face but when she began talking hours and scheduling it quickly dropped. You explained working full time and the hope you had for fulfilling your internship hours in the evenings.

“The issue is that some patients require our help to connect them with outside organizations to provide services and it’s unfortunate but most places stop answering their phones before 5 o’clock. There is a lot you can learn from us here but I would expect some daytime hours, otherwise this internship does not benefit you and I don’t mean to be frank but I can’t have you waste my time.”

Her straightforwardness made you feel nauseous but you understood. Your goal was so close, 1200 hours away until completion. You weren’t going to let it slip away.

“Thank you Ms. Rodriguez. I would love the opportunity to still do my internship here with you. If you’ll allow me the opportunity to speak with my employer, perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

This may be another obstacle in the road but you were going to get through it, somehow, someway.

The following day you woke up earlier than usual despite your lack of sleep. You almost texted Bucky at night, asking him to play anything in hopes the sound of his music would help drown out the anxieties in your mind. Instead you tossed and turned all night, unable to shut off your brain.

You didn’t want to text him anyway, knowing he would ask how the interview went. You avoided Steve and Wanda’s texts as well, seeking refuge at The Grind House but instead of doing research papers you worked on several plans. If you couldn’t make Stark Industries work with your internship then you’d have to find another job, or two, or three if need be.

You would make this happen no matter what but that didn’t ease the pit in your stomach; the familiar sense of dread that weighed you down uncomfortably like sandbags on your shoulders. Optimism and fear were fighting for dominance in your mind and for now you gave in to all the fears and worries. There would be no telling what path you would travel next, not until you spoke with Maria.

Steve wasn’t in yet so you were thankful to not have to run into him in the morning. The clicking of your heels against the tile floor echoed throughout the empty lobby. You couldn’t help but tap your foot, impatiently waiting for the elevator to arrive. Lost in thought you didn’t hear the footsteps of a person come up beside you. It wasn’t until you entered the elevator and were surprised to see someone else walk in.

Dressed in a sharp three-piece navy suit with a deep red tie stood Tony Stark. A perfectly trimmed goatee framed his smile as he took off his tinted sunglasses.

“G-good morning Mr. Stark,” you nervously greeted.

“Morning miss….” The word slithered on his tongue, dragging out the sound as he combed through the information of his brain to remember your last name. “Y/L/N!”

“You know who I am?” You didn’t mean to sound so pathetic but the words blurted out before you were able to stop them.

“That’s right kiddo. I know everybody that works for me,” he boasted.

He pressed his lips together forming a tight line, and he checked around the elevator as if you weren’t the only people there.

Tony leaned in closer to you, whispering, “Actually, that’s a lie. There’s one guy up in legal whose name I can’t ever remember. Is it Gary? Glenn? Gene? Geor– you know what, never mind. I know his face. That stays between us, okay?”

You nodded your head, but couldn’t help the odd chuckle that fell from your lips.

“So, are you angry?”

Your posture straightened, tensing up after his question caught you off guard.

“Before. The tapping?” He tapped his foot to mimic your earlier actions. “Pepper does that when she’s angry, usually at me.”

“Oh, no I… I’m just eager to speak with Maria about something.”

The elevator doors opened and Tony gestured for you to step out first.

“Might be a little difficult, she won’t be back for at least a few months.”

Worry settled on your face as Tony explained he asked Maria to head Stark International and begin overseeing their newest office in Australia.

“I had no idea…” you trailed off, wondering what this means not only for your internship but your job. “I’m her assistant…”

“That’s on me,” Tony said, raising his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, this was a real last minute decision. I know Maria thinks highly of you so if you’d like we can arrange for you to join her down unda,” he said with an accent.

“No!” You didn’t mean to shout. “I’m sorry. I can’t go there. I…I....” your voice trailed off as your lip began to tremble, feeling yourself plummet deeper and deeper into a pit of fear and uncertainty.

Tony noticed the panic on your face and the short gulps of breath you were taking. He guided you to the nearest chair and asked you to focus on taking long, deep breaths and blowing out steadily.

“You still have a job here if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said softly.

Tony’s eyes were full of compassion and based on everything you knew from Mr. Lee he made you feel comfortable enough to want to open up to him. With a deep sigh you explained your situation, from needing this job to afford an apartment up until the internship hours you were hoping to discuss with Maria, all the while still ensuring he knew how grateful you were for the job you had.

Tony pondered for a bit before the elevator opened and a few employees shuffled in, greeting him with surprise.

“Follow me,” he asked of you, following him to his grand corner office with floor to ceiling windows showcasing a beautiful view of the golden sunrise.

You took a seat on the soft leather chair in front of the sleek obsidian desk. His office was decorated with oversized black and white photos of old planes and cars, a few personalized touches and a small wet bar off to the side and yet everything seemed sterile. Maybe it was the way his own chair squeaked as he sat, like it was still being broken in.

Your fingers twiddled in your lap as you anxiously waited for Tony to break the silence. He gazed at you for a little longer, nodding slightly and quirking his head as if he was having a silent conversation with himself.  

“Stan told me you were a good kid but I wish he knew about your background. I would’ve put you on my team a long time ago.”

Your head twitched, taken aback. “Your team?”

“Me, Pep, a few others. We’re in the beginning stages of building a nonprofit organization, The September Foundation. I want it to change lives; develop after school STEM programs, fund student research, the whole shebang.”

The tendency you had of not shutting your mouth when you should have continued as you questioned why he thought you were appropriate for this.

“You want to help people, same as I and being part of this doesn’t look so bad on a resume.”

“My hours…”

“...can be flexible,” he finished. “We’ll work out the details but the job is yours.”

Tears of joy flooded your eyes but you held them back, closing your lids with relief as things were finally coming together.

“Thank you Mr. Stark, thank you so much!”

You shook his hand enthusiastically and turned on your heel with a smile. You nearly made it to the door before realizing you had no idea what to do now especially with Maria no longer there.

An awkward bubble of laughter came up as you asked, “What should I be doing today Mr. Stark?”

“Please, call me Tony,” he flashed a bright smile. “Greg or Graham or whatever his name is will finalize the legal paperwork in the next few days. Use those days to brainstorm. Tell me what communities you think we need to be in, what would benefit most, what would draw kids in. On Monday you’ll meet with everyone else to go over ideas.”

With a renewed sense of spirit you went to your desk, first to write Maria a congratulatory email on her new position and then to call Ms. Rodriguez about the internship, afterwards you went straight to work.

“Steve!” you shouted before the elevator doors finished opening, running as best as you could in heels towards him. “I have so much to tell you! I got the internship! I have a new job here! I’m– ahhhhh!”

Steve wrapped you in a firm hug as your excited ramblings turned into squeals of joy.

“We have to celebrate!” you beamed. “I’ll call Wanda and Sam and…”

You stopped to think about Bucky. He was new in your life and yet somehow the idea of celebrating without him felt wrong.

Later that night you knocked on his door, sporting a wide smile that spread across your face. It stretched even wider when he opened the door and blessed you with a sparkling grin.

Opening your mouth you said the first words that came to mind, “Will you go out with me?”

PART 7

[callmeelle22]

Blue Dream IX

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Allen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 6, 258

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything

Chapter IV: Comfortable

Chapter V: The Way

Chapter VI: Say Yes

Chapter VII: Brave

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream

Chapter IX: He Loves Me; Because she looks like a woman drowning in bliss, a woman draped in desire, the look of it hugging like a second skin. She looks like the way women might be described in romance novels, so satisfied she can’t think of anything other than being wrapped up in the man giving her the satisfaction. She looks like the woman in some fantasy or dream, ascending the clouds, spread out and open in an expanse of blue. She sings it in her head, you school me, give me things to think about; invite me, you ignite me, co-write me, you love me, you like me; incite me to chorus, at the same time that she sings out loud, “god, Bear, baby yes,” her eyes fluttering closed at only the very last minute. (Read below or on AO3 linked on the chapter.)

He Loves Me

You love me especially different every time

You keep me on my feet happily excited

By your cologne, your hands, your smile, your intelligence

You woo me, you court me, you tease me, you please me

You school me, give me some things to think about

Ignite me, you invite me, you co-write me, you love me, you like me

You incite me to chorus, ooh

Oh

She tells him she loves him on a Friday night.

A week later, and it's the first night in a long while that she doesn’t get to stay at home because Barry has asked if he can have her time tonight. He doesn’t give her any details, only tells her to come over to his place around 8 and to be prepared to stay over. He seems particularly animated, when he asks, and it makes Iris wonder why, if he’s got something planned or if it’s just that he’s happy he gets to spend the time with her, even if they’ve been around each other more than usual this week.

So, the entire day, she’s dizzy with excitement.

Her taping of Good Morning, Central City is mid-morning. The segment tapes live at 9:30, which gives her some time to down a cup of coffee or two to settle her nerves, and then carefully apply her makeup. She dresses in one of her favorite dresses, a long sleeved wrap dress in black with soft, pretty flowers printed on it and a pair of shoes that boost her confidence, tall black pumps with a gold heel and gold double chains around the ankle. The neck of the dress dips and the delicate material flirts with her lower thighs; she feels pretty in it, in a lighter, brighter way than she’s found herself feeling before. Her makeup is subtle, except for the dark maroon lip, and she’s had her hair blown out and it hangs in soft fingered out curls just past her shoulders. A small black bag is all she takes to keep her keys and cards and then she’s out the door.

WCCTV, the station that houses the studio, is a short drive away, tucked into a neighborhood that Iris doesn’t frequent. She isn’t sure what she was expecting of the station, but it’s a squat little building in an unimaginative cream and brick scheme that would look like any other commercial building if not for WCCTV printed in large blue letters on the building and the satellite dishes spaced intentionally around it.

A news producer meets her at the door, a thin young woman with thick red hair piled into a high ponytail who introduces herself as Katherine.

“We’re all excited to have you here,” the woman says, smiling as she leads Iris through a number of desk cubicles towards a back room. She recognizes a couple of the anchors from the station, who all look either intensely focused on their work or bored out of their minds.

“Thanks,” Iris says politely. “It is a little overwhelming here, though.”

Iris doesn’t love speaking in front of people, which is why she's firmly on the invisible side of her work, but she isn’t as nervous and she figures she could be. There’s that feeling in her belly she connects with nerves, but it’s slight; instead, she’s ready. This can change the trajectory of her blog, invite more viewers and more paying ads. It could invite more stories, people who see her and trust that she wants to do right by them and their lives. She’s practically giddy with the idea.

Katherine’s response is an easy grin. “I know it seems that way, but you’ll be fine. You look fabulous so that’s one concern out of the way. Plus, Alexa and James are phenomenal at getting people to open up at the same time that they project a sort of calmness. It's fascinating to watch and I can tell you’ll be great.”

“Thanks, Katherine. I really appreciate that.”

Iris is led back to a small room where the two anchors for Good Morning, Central City are standing with four other local internet stars. Alexa May is tall and blonde and exactly like what one thinks about when they think of a news anchor: pretty and personable on a killer black skirt suit, though Iris is a little surprised at the naturally kind gleam in her eyes. James Broderick is even taller, his dark hair styled to look windswept, his ice blue eyes looking constantly around the room, as if he’s always wondering where a new story might be.

Iris steps in to greet the other four guests. They include a short Somalian woman in a beautiful bright purple hijab who cooks and shares recipes on YouTube; a stocky white guy known for his skits on TikTok; a dark-skinned Black Instagram beauty guru; and a non-binary Mexican person who discusses true crimes on Snapchat ala Buzzfeed Unsolved. It’s an eclectic collection of people and Iris feels honored to be a part of this group. She’s watched all of their videos in some fashion, though she’s more partial to Aya, the home chef, and Nadine, the beauty grammer. Still, they each have large followings and to be included gives Iris such a sense of pride, that she’s a little drunk with the force of it.

“You guys ready?” Alexa’s strong voice pulls all of their attention immediately, and Iris passes one more look through the crew of them before locking eyes with Alexa and James.

She nods her assent.

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

At 8, Iris pulls into Barry’s two-car driveway right next to his Jeep backed up into the drive as usual. The garage is open, though, and she takes that as an invitation to walk into the house, finding the kitchen door unlocked. She steps in and presses the button that closes the garage, locks the kitchen door behind her.

Her giddy mood has stuck with her.

The segment had been a quick fire round of questions and answers, with the hosts wanting to know how they all got started, what motivates them to do what they do, and the ups and downs of being in spaces of both influence and criticism. It’d been fascinating to hear the stories of the others, and afterward, they’d all exchanged contact information with the idea of collaborating on future projects.

After, she’d gone to lunch with her dad and Wally, who’d all but hinted at a watch party planned for the following night. She'd merely shaken her head at her family’s love of partying.

Now, she’s at Barry’s and she recognizes that tonight is going to be different. Because she knows that she’s going to say it. After the last part of her interview, where she’d all but explained to Alexa and James that she’d fallen in love with someone, she understands that there is no way that she can announce it on television and not tell the man himself.

It’s fairly dark in the house; there is a small light on above the stove. She continues through the quiet living room, a single table lamp lighting her path down his hallway. She pauses to pull her jacket off, tossing it over the arm of the sofa as she treks towards his room. That’s where she finds Barry, sitting in the large overstuffed chair in the corner near the window.

She takes a moment to look at him, in a pair of soft looking pajama pants and a simple white t-shirt, tattooed arm hooked behind his head as he sits wide-legged in the chair. His dark hair is only the slightest bit messy. Iris likes the look of the breadth of his shoulders, the bulge of his biceps, the print of his sex visible through the thin cotton of his pants. He’s not overtly sexy in the way that other men she’s dated have been, but there’s something about Barry, his eyes and his mouth and his length, that really gets to Iris.

She drags her eyes away from him and that’s when she suddenly notices the two gift-wrapped boxes sitting in the middle of his bed, the large bottle of wine and two glasses on his bedside table, a couple of pre-rolled joints sitting beside them too.

Iris steps further into the room, her heels heavy on his hardwood floors; the movement is enough to catch his attention and his head pops up, those sea-foam eyes glittering behind the wire frames of his glasses as he smiles up at her.

(And, Iris will realize later, her entire body floods with her affection for him, the feeling familiar in that the thought comes so much easier now, comes to her so smoothly that she doesn’t know how it’d once felt so difficult to get the words across.)

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets as he stands, unfolding his long frame from the chair. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s okay,” she smiles at him as he comes to a stop in front of her. She naturally reaches out to wrap her arms around him, tightening them around his waist. His touch is automatic too, his big hands landing on her neck, thumbs trailing softly across the skin on her cheeks. She falls against him, his firmness and his warmth and the soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leans down and kisses her, a peck and then another, and then a longer one, his tongue easing out to coax her open. He pulls back first, though slowly, and Iris chases after him. He obliges with another kiss, this one longer, wetter, Iris squeezing him to her.

“Hi,” she speaks, voice a little faint.

“Hey, beautiful” he repeats. He thumbs at her bottom lip, the tip of his finger tracing gently over the line of her mouth.

“What’s all this?” she asks, when she pulls away from him this time. She gazes around the room again, at how the only lights on are the bedside lamps and at the weed and wine waiting on one of those tables and the gifts sitting neatly on the bed.

“It’s a celebration,” he says with a wide smile. “Well, it’s your Friday night routine, just here. I got the wine and the weed, and Thai ordered out here for a bit later.” His smile dims a little, becomes unsure. “And I thought we could talk about your segment today; maybe actually watch it. I recorded it.”

“Really?” Iris’s eyes widen in slight surprise. “I know my dad and Wally did because we’re gonna have a watch party at dad’s place tomorrow. And probably Linda, but...”

“Of course I recorded it, baby.” Barry gives her an indulgent look. “I tried to watch some of it at work, but we got called out on a case before you came on. Then I thought it’d be better to wait to watch it with you.”

Iris doesn’t have a response other than to bite at her lip, eyes trained on him, the reality of his kindness rendering her momentarily speechless. Barry doesn’t acknowledge her silence; instead, he plants another firm kiss to her mouth and steps away from her, nodding at his bed.

“Is this all okay, though? Maybe you can open your gifts and then we can pour the wine and turn on your interview?”

Her smile is big. “Yeah, Barry, of course.”

She looks over at the sleekly wrapped presents before going to sit on the edge of his bed. She makes quick work of unclasping the buckle around her ankle, leaving her shoes strewn on the floor, and then she hops up into the middle of the bed, pulling the two boxes in front of her, her dress riding up to the top of her thighs.

One of the boxes is bigger than the other, though it’s lighter than the heavier one. They’re wrapped in shiny gold paper with dark blue bows sitting in the corner of each. She picks up the bigger present first, tearing through the paper. She recognizes the garment box and thumbs open the top. Nestled in white tissue paper is a pile of red silk, the material so soft and delicate it looks like waves on the cardboard.

“Bear?” she questions, picking up the folded clothing. It’s a nightgown and matching robe. The gown is almost like a dress she’d wear out, with thin straps and a split up the right side, except the fabric of it is so light, one can tell it’s only made to be seen by a lover. The feel of it in her hands is so nice and Iris knows that this isn’t like the inexpensive dresses she buys for herself.

“I thought that you could have one to keep over here sometimes,” he says when she catches his gaze. He looks a little bashful, cheeks slightly tinged pink. “I know that Friday night is largely your thing, but maybe every so often you can spend it with me.”

“And wear this?” Iris asks, her grin widening slowly.

Barry nods.

“I think that this is really a gift for you,” she says and he barks out a laugh.

“It is my favorite color.” He grins. “And I admit that when I saw it, the first thing I wondered was how it would look as I took it off of you.”

Iris rolls her eyes in jest. “Pervert.” She fingers the material again. “So you picked it out yourself? In a store?”

“You have no idea how embarrassing it is buying women’s lingerie. The sales lady kept making these innuendos and I thought I was gonna pass out, I was blushing so hard.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Iris laughs as she reaches over and pinches his cheek. “You did good though. It’s so soft.”

Barry beams at her. “Can I get a kiss as a thanks?”

Iris shakes her head. “Not until I open this other one. I could hate it and then that would overshadow how much I like this nightgown.”

He snorts. “Even if you do hate it, I’ll still get to see you in the nightgown and, honestly, that’ll make my night.”

“Like I said: pervert.”

He just chuckles as she picks up the heavier box and claws at the paper on it. It looks like some sort of leather book, and once Iris pulls all of the paper off, it takes everything in her not to just start bawling right then and there. It’s the journal she’d seen at the fall festival, except in a pretty royal purple instead of the coral she’d picked up there; this one’s definitely a better choice. It has the rose gold edging that the other had and her name is stitched in that same color at the bottom right corner of the journal. She flips through it, fingering the heavy cream paper. Handwriting catches her attention and she turns to where Barry has written a message on the first page in small, scrawling script.

Iris,

I think I knew that I was falling for you during fall fest, when I saw you staring down at the notebook with such a look of reverence on your face. I could see in that moment how much you loved your craft. It made me curious about you, about someone who’s goal in life is to be the voice for those who can’t or simply won’t. And when I started to read your work, I saw your heart in everything you wrote, in every line that scrolled across my computer screen. I wanted to know that heart.

Now that I do, now that I’ve seen it firsthand: in the way that you touch me, in the way that you smile at me, in the way that you make me feel like every day is new story to experience, I want to be able to experience it for as long as you’ll let me. Because you are a lightning bolt, Iris, brilliant and electric. You are beautiful and tenacious and the single most fascinating person I’ve ever met.

So keep putting your heart into your stories, and I’ve no doubt that everyone who reads it will love it as much as I do.

Barry

“Barry,” she says, breathes really. She looks up at him, his expression nervous, his eyes tracking her. She feels the moisture pricking at the corners of hers and she blinks, letting the tears fall.

“Iris.” His voice is a little raw as she gazes up at him. “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I can…” he cuts himself off as he reaches for the journal. Iris swats at his hand and brings the notebook closer to her. “Iris?”

Another tear, and then another and then more, roll down over her cheeks and Barry stares at her, hand outstretched, mouth agape.

“Iris,” he tries again. Wordlessly, she places the journal back down in the box and then she crawls over to him, planting herself in his lap. She wraps herself around him, legs locking around his waist, arms crossing behind his neck. He closes his mouth, but his features are still twisted in turmoil. “Baby, please tell me why you’re crying.”

He asks this as he reaches up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Everything in Iris seems like it’s settling now, even as the tears fall. Even clearer than before, she can read the story of them, like the book is in front of her, words bold and in technicolor. She can see the dream she’s living in, the vision of them laughing with each other and making love to each other, for days on end, one that plays out like a movie in front of her.

She tightens around him, trying to get as close as she can without crawling inside of him—she really wishes she could right now—and she sniffs, looking down at Barry through her wet lashes. She takes a deep breath. And then she tells him.

“I’m crying because I love you.”

Much like the last time they’d had this conversation, Barry’s body stiffens beneath her. He asks carefully, “And loving me makes you cry?”

She nods and Barry looks stricken. It’s what she needs to bring a modicum of levity to the moment and she huffs out a small laugh. “These aren’t sad tears, Barry.”

Iris can physically see him exhale, letting out a shaky breath. His shoulders lose their tension and he gives her a tentative smile. She returns it.

“For someone who always seems to know what I’m thinking, you completely missed the mark here.”

Barry shakes his head as Iris notes the flush climbing up his neck. “The tears threw me off.” He wipes at her face. “Please never do that again.”

She laughs. “I’ll do my best.”

Barry runs a hand down her back, over the fabric of the dress she’s wearing, and he grips her chin with his other thumb and forefinger, bringing her down so he can stare into her eyes.

“So you love me?” he wonders. His voice dips, lower like midnight walks on a beach in the fall or like early morning talks before coffee and reality ease in. He pulls the glasses from his face, folds them on the table beside them, and gives her all of his attention. She likes being surrounded by him like this, by the look of him and the smell of him and the feel of him. She stays wrapped around him like a koala and Barry holds on to her too, gripping her chin and pressing her to him with a wide palm to the small of her back.

“I do,” Iris nods. “Very much.”

Iris can see the joy brimming in his gaze. “Can you tell me?”

“Tell you?”

“What you love about me.”

Barry shifts so that he’s sitting more comfortably on the bed and she’s perched even closer in his lap, the crotch of her panties almost pressing against his belly. He pushed the boxes and wrapping better towards the edge of the bed.

“For example,” he says, and he lets go of her chin to touch his palm to her chest. His hand is warm through the fabric of her dress. “You know that I love this heart, how gracious and compassionate it is.” He reaches down and picks up on her hands, rubbing a thumb along her knuckles, along the rings that adorn her fingers. He brings it up to his mouth and presses a few tiny kisses along the pads of her fingertips. “I love these fingers, because it’s through your writing, your typing, that you show yourself, even when you can’t always physically or verbally.” He goes back to her face, his thumb caressing the middle of her bottom lip. “I love this mouth: the way that it smiles and laughs, the way that it purses when you’re annoyed, the way that it feels on my own.”

Iris can’t help it when she licks her lips, tongue swiping at Barry’s thumb. He makes a soft grunting sound.

“Tell me, Iris.”

She thinks back to the second night they’d been together, when he’d been hard inside of her and he’d asked her to tell him how he felt fucking into her. She decides that this is even harder, not because she doesn’t know, but because when she speaks it, it’s officially there, written out in the sky, heaven coming to collect on its bet.

“I love your tattoos,” she starts, tentatively. She unhooks one of her arms from around his neck and touches at the skin on his arm, tracing the outline of a white daisy. “I love that you did it as a way to remember your mother; I love that you were brave enough to put the iris on your heart, even when I wasn’t sure how to receive that.” She reaches up to trail her fingers along his brows. “I love your eyes. I love the look of them, the fact that I can’t actually name what color they are; I love the way you look at me, how you can tell my feelings by just watching me, how it seems like I’m the only one you see whenever we’re out together.” She lets a nail trace the outline of his mouth, dropping her hand to rest on the back of his neck. “I love your mouth too; the way you always say things that make me feel beautiful or smart or loved.” She licks her lips again. “Or make me blush, like when you’re saying those dirty things when you’re…”

Barry gives her a deep smirk, those eyes flashing in a way that makes Iris’s body clench. Her thighs close around him.

“Like me saying those dirty things when I’m…?”

She rocks her hips. “You know.”

“I do,” he nods, “but I want to hear you say it.” He grinds up into her. “When I’m what, baby?”

“When,” she licks her lips again, slower this time, buoyed by the way his eyes darken, “you fuck me.”

“Mmmm,” Barry groans and then his grin changes to something a little indecent, darker and dirtier. “You know what else I love?”

Iris shakes her head, though she thinks she does.

“I love the way you respond to me, when I’m saying those dirty things to you when I’m fucking you.”

Iris rocks her hips again and she knows that it’s an involuntary moment. Because, like always, she responds to him easily, fluidly, like they’ve become extensions of the other.

Barry fingers at the hem of her dress sitting around her thighs. “Take this off,” he demands. “I want to show you how you look.”

Even with her brows furrowed in confusion, she does what he says, pulling the dress up and over her head. She reveals to him her bra and panty set, a dark green that even she thinks makes her skin glow. He fingers the lace at the top of the cups of her bra, at the same piping along her hips.

“As pretty as this is,” he murmurs, “I want it gone too.”

She unhooks the bra first, staring back at him. She tosses the bra on the bed beside them, her breasts sitting heavy on her chest, nipples already pointing out at him, seeking him, his fingers or his tongue or the nip of his teeth.

He helps her off of him so that she can take her panties off. Then, instead of letting her climb back on top of him, however, he positions himself so that he’s facing the side of the bed. He pulls her to him and sits her so she is sitting between his open knees, her back to his chest.

This brings a different part of the room into focus. Iris has always paid more attention to the wall length window on the other side of the room, the one that Barry will open when they’re together sometimes, taunting her with the eyes she’s sure she’s seen peeking through their blinds and his. The bed sits on a platform facing front, a television mounted on the wall above a stand that holds his game consoles and a few other knick knacks. But on the other side, there’s a bookshelf, above which hangs a mirror. Of course Iris has known it was there, has looked into it as she’s done her makeup or straightened one of Barry’s stolen shirts on her. But it looks almost dangerous now, only in that she can only imagine what Barry has planned for it. In the mirror, she can see all of her. It’s not an extremely large mirror, but it spans the length of the bookshelf and it’s just high enough that, on the bed, Iris can see both of their bodies.

“Barry?” she questions as she looks over her shoulder at him.

“I know you like it when other people watch,” he says, and she almost rolls her eyes at the smug, laughing look on his face. “But I want you to watch you right now. To see yourself the way I do; to see why I felt so compelled to come to you that first night.”

Iris’s lips quirk up slightly. “I didn’t look like this the first night you saw me.”

“I’ve got a great imagination,” Barry winks.

Ignoring his statement,

(but not the way her heart fills with love for him, the kind that sits heavy in her chest, bold and open; the kind that stays strong in her belly, flipping and fluttering and always present; the kind that dips low in her sex, warm and wet and wanting)

Iris turns back to the mirror and catalogs what she sees: her naked body cocooned in his fully clothed one; her brown eyes bright with anticipation, his darkened with barely disguised lust. There are still traces of her lipstick on her full mouth, and some of it is on Barry too, a look that shouldn’t be as arousing as it is. The fabric of his clothes are so soft on her bare skin, and the warmth of the heat through the room only serves to heighten her desire. Barry moves her hands, throws them over either side of his thighs, and uses his to open her legs; the move puts her even more on display, the gold necklace she’s been wearing all day nestled in between her breasts, her belly taut, the pinkish brown lips of her pussy already slick.

Barry circles a hand gently around her throat at the same time that he palms the inside of one of her thighs, holding her open, rubbing gently at her skin.

“I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you,” Barry says to her, whispers it, his voice soft in her ear. “I admit I was drunk that first night, but I saw you and it was like, like the entire world came into focus. I think my body knew I would love you before the rest of me could even deny it. And, by some miracle, I got you to take me home with you.”

He touches her lightly on her neck and then moves down, the tips of his fingers feeling on her breasts until he circles a nipple. She gasps, the sound more like a low moan, and Barry smiles at it.

“You were so responsive,” he explains. “I’ve never seen anything like the way you respond to me; it’s so electrifying, baby.”

He circles one nipple with the rough pad of his fingers, pinches at it until it fully hardens, the action almost painful in that she needs more. He moves to the other nipple, does the same thing, and Iris grinds her hips, hoping to move the hand still gliding on her thigh closer to where she always wants him.

“It can be the slightest touch,” he continues, running his nails down the space between her breasts. She proves his point, whimpering a little as he glides down to her belly, and then up again, adding a finger as he goes down once more, and then up. It should not feel like this, such an innocuous move. But he’s right; she’s so responsive to him. This ghost of a touch, just the barest hint of his fingers on her, and she’s heated, her thighs quaking, her sex fluttering.

“Barry,” she sighs, catching her gaze through the mirror. He licks those pink lips, eyes honed in on her, and in that moment, she sees that it is mutual. However true it is that she so easily reacts to him, he is not unaffected. He is, just as much as she is, the truth of it right there in his wrecked countenance: the burning gray of his eyes, the pink flush of his cheeks, the colorful bunch of the tattoos on his arm as he holds her tight.

“I’m in love with this pussy, too,” he mumbles into her neck, his pale hands moving to grip her thighs. The sight of it is a touch obscene, his lightly tanned skin on the umber of hers, his long fingers pressing into her flesh. He doesn’t touch her sex, not right away. Instead, he squeezes her thighs before repeating his pattern of running his fingers up and down, up and down again.

“Look at it,” Barry groans, and she watches his gaze go down to her before she looks at herself. She knows her own body, but Iris has never looked at herself like this, has never spread her legs in front of a mirror when her lips were wet like this, flushed red like this, puckered open as if begging for the stretch of his cock.

“Look at how pretty you are, baby.” His voice sounds like music to her. “Look at how slick you get for me; how open you get for me.”

“Bear,” Iris moans.

He chuckles. “I know. I wanna fuck you right now too.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because I’m not finished playing.”

Iris gripes at that, throwing her head back on his shoulder and canting her hips toward his hand.

“No, be a good girl for me, Iris.” Those nimble fingers inch toward the middle of her. “Be a good girl and keep looking while I finish playing.”

He waits until she looks back at the mirror and then he starts. That first touch to her sends electricity coursing through her. He swipes a finger straight up the middle of her slit and she jerks, followed quickly by a limb-loosening moan when Barry sucks the digit in his mouth.

“I love the taste of it,” Barry says.

He reaches back down again, uses his index and ring fingers to hold her open and then dips his middle finger into her. He fucks that finger into her slowly, rubbing against her walls as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of her, gathering the slick of her on that finger.

“I love the feel of it.”

He shifts to use all three of those fingers, dipping them in her wet and rubbing them over her. This is where he finds his rhythm. Iris catches, and this time holds, the sight of them in the glass. Her hair is a curly mess, the strands hanging loose and tangled around her head. Her lips are swollen from how often she keeps tugging the bottom one between her teeth, her chest heaving as she prays for release. In all of that, Iris swears she’s glowing, eyes darkened and alight, her entire body lit with pleasure, bringing out the honeyed undertones in her skin. She looks raw. She looks fucked. She looks like a woman who sings out whenever she can, you woo me, you court me, you tease me, you please me.

And Barry holds on to her, fingers moving a little erratically, going between fucking his fingers into her and massaging her swollen clit with his wet fingers. All of it is, a lot, the way his fingers look slicker and slicker until she’s dripping down onto his wrists, the way that their different skin colors seem to matter right now only in how erotic the contrast looks right now.

“Come, baby,” Barry says. “And watch yourself.”

She does, watches herself as she comes, watches Barry watch her as she does. And it’s as beautiful as he says. Because she looks like a woman drowning in bliss, a woman draped in desire, the look of it hugging like a second skin. She looks like the way women might be described in romance novels, so satisfied she can’t think of anything other than being wrapped up in the man giving her the satisfaction. She looks like the woman in some fantasy or dream, ascending the clouds, spread out and open in an expanse of blue. She sings it in her head, you school me, give me things to think about; invite me, you ignite me, co-write me, you love me, you like me; incite me to chorus, at the same time that she sings out loud, “god, Bear, baby yes,” her eyes fluttering closed at only the very last minute.

“I love you,” Barry tells her, after, as she blinks through the haze of her orgasm.

With low, shaky limbs, she turns around, crawling on top of him and pulling him out of his sweatpants only enough that she can slide down the length of his dick. He stretches her, even as wet as she is, her cream coating him. Then he wraps his arms around her, pulling her down to him, all the way until there is only the ocean blue shade of his eyes filling her gaze, so different from the molten whiskey of hers, though nothing in Iris doubts that the same expression shines in both of them: that of a craving for this to last until the last breath shudders from their bodies, that of the love that she hopes makes that dream come true.

“I love you too, Barry.”

And this time, they only watch each other, reading each other, their climax hurtling toward them with the sort of rugged elegance that has always accompanied her idea of love. It’s bliss, la, la, la; da, da, da; do, do, do.

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

“So Iris, tell me,” Alexa May starts. Iris inclines her head as she awaits Alexa’s question, the other woman’s gaze kind and curious. “Are any of the stories on your blog particularly personal to you?” James Broderick nods his head at the question.

“Well, they’re all personal to me,” Iris tells her with a side grin. “But I assume you’re asking if one of the stories I’ve written is particular to my life?”

“Exactly,” Alexa gives her her own smirk.

Iris shakes her head, pauses for a minute as she decides how much she wants to say on a widespread television

“None of them are,” she says, carefully. “But I’m working on one.”

Both Alexa and James’s blue eyes light with interest.

“Oh really?” James questions.

Alexa leans toward her, crossing her slim legs and settling her elbows on her thighs. “Is it a love story?”

“It is,” Iris laughs softly. “It’s a story still being written, so I don’t want to give too much away. But I can tell you that it’s about two people who’ve found something neither had been particularly expecting. It’s about two people who’ve struggled to find acceptance in different ways, to fight through the pain they’ve experienced. It’s about two people who feel into each other’s lives in one of the easiest ways possible, like puzzle pieces clicking or locks being secured or some other metaphor for two people who just… fall into place.” There’s a round of sweet chuckles from Alexa and some of the other guests. “Most importantly, though, it’s about two people who’ve stumbled right into something out of a storybook, something that can only be described as love.”

There is a pause. And then Alexa sighs. “God, that’s beautiful.”

Iris presses a hand to her heart, trying to keep in the surge of emotion that floods through her in that moment.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “So are we.”

“And there you have it, viewers,” James says, pulling the attention away. “Keep a lookout for that love story on What a Life You’ve Lived. Thank you all so much for watching. We’ll be right back.”

You're different and special

You're different and special in every way imaginable

You love me from my hair follicles to my toenails

You got me feeling like the breeze, easy and free and lovely and new

Oh when you touch me I just can't control it

When you touch me, I just can't hold it

The emotion inside of me, I can feel it

[herohotline]

The students finding out Aizawa has a (very popular) hero husband?

A/N: SO... I used the quirk idea i have for an OC for the reader in this fic, since I’m not very creative with quirks. Still a reader insert, tho!! Also i kinda went OFF on this one lmaoooo

Reader’s Hero Name: Nebulous

Reader’s Quirk: Hallucination - Make one or more people see hallucinations, varying in detail and overall size based on how much he’s concentrating. The quirk is nullified if the person realizes what they’re seeing isn’t real.

———

If anyone were to guess what Aizawa’s opinion over the pro-hero Nebulous, they would probably assume it was a sour one. Whenever the hero tended to come up in conversation, Aizawa seemed to get irritated and tense- as if he despised the hero entirely. Personal, close friends, knew why he truly acted this way- but his students did not.

Right before Aizawa had come to class, the students were bustling with energy as usual. This time, it was over the fact that Pro-Hero Nebulous had gone undercover and stopped a human-trafficking ordeal taking place at an abandoned warehouse. Dozens of people were saved, and the fact that the organization had been revealed and busted, hundreds more would be saved as the day continued, all thanks to Nebulous and his quick thinking.

“Did you read the witness reports?” Uraraka chimes in to the conversation that the entire class seemed to be in, all of them sitting at their desks and turning their bodies in their chairs to be included. “Apparently a couple and some others saw the action!”

“Really?”

“That sounds so scary, though! Do you think they were seeing his quirk, even from that distance?”

“They had to! Some of the things that was reported was so bizarre-“

“Oh! Do you have a link to the reports?”

But just as Uraraka begins to bring her phone out of her bag, the door to the classroom slams open. The sound shocks a bunch of them as their heads snap forward, seeing Aizawa looking disheveled and grumpy in the doorway. But that’s nothing unusual.

In her shock, Uraraka drops her phone on the floor and it makes a sharp sound on the tile below before she quickly scrambles to pick it up. Aizawa just eyes her silently.

“You know phone’s aren’t allowed in class,” he says simply as he walks to the podium, placing a textbook on top with a sigh. “Put it away.”

“Y-yes, sorry Aizawa-sensei!”

After that, class silently begins as Aizawa talks about future plans for the class and training schedules. Most days, his class would be learning with at least one eager ear- but it’s not hard to notice he hardly has their attention at all today.

Needless to say, it irritates Aizawa greatly.

“Alright,” he slams the book he was reading from shut, the loud thud making his students jump again. His black eyes scan the room silently- their whispers and note passing has finally stopped, now that they notice how mad he is- until he finally puts his gaze on Midoriya. The one who’s been twitching the most this entire time. “Midoriya. Tell me what’s going on.”

Plus, the boy didn’t have it in him to lie. Especially not to Aizawa.

“M-me?!”

“Yes. Spit it out.”

Midoriya looks nervously around the room, swallowing thickly before he looks back to Aizawa. And then with a shaky breath, he let’s himself speak with a wince- as if he’s stepping right into a bear trap and he fully knows what will happen next.

“W-well, um, this morning there was a really cool undercover bust! Lots of people were saved, and it was... really cool.”

Aizawa squints. “I see.” Slowly, he leans his elbows on the podium as he stares at Midoriya. “Go on.”

The poor boy is practically vibrating from anxiety at his teacher’s cold stare. He has no idea why he’s harping on him like this, but Midoriya hates it. So much. “And the hero Nebulous was there, and uh- there were some eyewitnesses who saw his quirk. And he did a great job?”

There’s a chilling silence once Midoriya finishes- you could honestly cut the tension with a knife. But slowly, slowly, Aizawa leans back up, a frown etching deeply on his lips. “I see. That’s why you’re all so excited?”

The students nod.

“Mm...” The teacher grumbles, still offering nothing but silence until he finally speaks again. “Would you like to know more about the scene, then?”

They don’t know what to say. All of them look at each other nervously, feeling like maybe they shouldn’t know- but then Kaminari opens his big fat mouth. “Yes?”

It earns him multiple glares and harshly mouthed words.

“Alright, I’ll tell you what happened.” Aizawa walks over to his desk, letting the chair screech against the tile as he pulls it out and falls against it. “Pro-hero Nebulous has been working on this undercover case for a few weeks. He had been working on it with his agency, trying to find the best approach with the fewest casualties to confront this organization. But, he saw an opportunity arise. Without informing his agency or any back-up, he confronted the villains early this morning in their warehouse.” As he speaks, his voice is laced with a heavy, angry tone. His words are clipped and chilly as he crosses his arms and looks toward the class. “Can anyone tell me why that was such a god-awful idea?”

Momo slowly raises her hand, and she tries her best to speak evenly when Aizawa gives her permission to speak. But she was truly as nervous as everyone else, especially now that the teacher’s attention was all on her. “...Nebulous had gone solo into, assumingly, their base of operations. He most likely didn’t know the entire warehouse as well as the enemy, and his only advantage was a surprise attack. But the villains had numbers, weapons, and hostages on their side.”

“Perfect, Momo.” Aizawa grins- but it’s not a happy one. “As Momo has said, Nebulous made a very impulsive, stupid decision that could have gone sideways in an instant. This is a mistake that one of you could easily make-“ hey, ouch, “But for a pro-hero to make such a mistake is unacceptable. Does that sound right?”

The entire class agrees with a “Yes, Aizawa-sensei!” Much too terrified to disagree with him, if they even had the guts to.

“I will also tell you that Nebulous did not escape the ordeal unharmed. He is being held at the hospital being treated for a concussion and three gunshots.”

This was obviously news to the class as they look at each other with surprised glances, a few gasps being made. Uraraka softly speaks up, concern in her tone, “is he going to be okay?”

Surprisingly, Aizawa’s face softens, at least a little bit. He nods once, a heavy sigh leaving his body. “He’s a hero, so he's getting the best treatment he can. It is not the worst thing that could have happened, obviously, and more terrible things have happened, but there are more factors to put in place from his idiocy.” The teacher frowns again. “There are consequences for being stubborn and impulsive. There’s the financial side of things like hospital bills, there’s the people worrying about him such as fans and family, and the fact that he’ll most likely get laid off from his agency if things like this continue.”

He’s being unusually harsh, especially towards a random pro-hero, that much is made clear to the class. But perhaps he’s just trying to teach them something? Apparently so, because the next thing he has to say is, “so while Nebulous did his heroic duty... do not idolize him for making such amateur mistakes. Learn from it instead. Class dismissed.”

And the class left home room feeling confused and a little bit scared.

———

Rumors have started to spread ever since that day about Pro-Hero Nebulous and Eraserhead. After it left the classroom, more and more interesting theories came into bloom around the school. Were they archenemies? Did Nebulous do something to Eraserhead? Or were they secretly in love but can’t confess because it’s too complicated?!

The rumors could possibly be the death of Aizawa, and he makes sure to punish his class for starting them by making them train non-stop for an entire day. He supposes he did get a little heated, but at least he put it into some sort of lesson for them to learn from. But no one learned anything- they just tried to sneak into his private life instead. Which he was very adamant on keeping private.

And you, his lovely, stupid husband, respected Aizawa’s wish for privacy. You had since the very beginning- it’s why so few people knew you were married. It was hidden for the sake of Aizawa’s peace of mind and comfort, and he appreciated you greatly for it. 

But after being married for a few years and the tense fight you had over your most recent scuffle, apparently you were done being patient with him. Especially after you had heard about the rumors flirting about the school he worked in. 

———

You didn’t tell him what you were planning. Things were still a little silent in the house you shared that morning as you got ready for an interview with the press- the two of you kissed goodbyes, but that was about it. Of course, you understood your husbands worry over you, but enough was enough. 

Entering the building you were being interviewed at, you searched for the perfect opportunity. For Aizawa’s sake, you wore your rings of promise around your necks instead of your hands, safely hidden. But today you wore it proudly on your finger- but you hadn’t let the camera see it yet. 

Then your opportunity came. The girl interviewing you was young and sweet, her face dolled up for the camera with a pretty smile. But her face grew worried as she entered the next segment the casters had planned- “are you willing to talk about the recent trafficking bust?” 

You smile at her easily, crossing your legs and nodding. “Yes, I knew it was coming eventually.” 

You put your hands atop your knee- your ring now visible, but no one had taken notice yet. 

“Well, I can safely say we were all worried when we learned about your injuries. Have you healed up fully, or do you have any permanent damage that might affect your future work?” 

“Ah, right,” you laugh from your nose and squint your eyes. “Yeah, I’ll admit, it definitely hurt afterwards. My husband gave me an earful about it, I assure you, but I’ve fully healed up and should be ready to get back to work in a few days.”

“Oh, of course!” The reporter nods her head- and then there’s a shocked silence as her eyes grow wide. You can tell from one of the TVs in the room that the camera’s have zoomed in on you and your wide grin. “Did- you have a husband?” 

Your grin grows wider as you nod. “Yes, I do. We’ve been married for a few years- I’m a little shocked that no one’s caught us yet, but Eraserhead is really good at keeping things hidden.” 

Her eyes widen even more. “E-Eraserhead?!” 

Chuckling deeply, you look at her in mock surprise. “Oh, oops.” And then you look directly into the camera, giving it a wink. 

“I- I mean,” the poor interviewer looks at a loss for words as she sits still across from you. She looks at the cameramen, who just shrug at her. “This is... big news. I mean- married?” 

“Yeah... Wanna see my ring?” 

The interview has possibly the most viewers that the channel has had in over a century, and boy do you feel amazing. 

———

The unfortunate thing for Aizawa is that since the students were so worried over your wellbeing, he decided to have them watch the liveshow in class as it aired. 

Of course he noticed when you crossed your legs- of course he noticed the ring on your finger. You’ve been hiding your relationship from the public for so long, it was impossible for him not to. And a deep feeling of dread filled him once he remembered the look you gave him before you left the house this morning. 

You were planning something. And he wasn’t going to like it. 

“Well, I can safely say we were all worried when we learned about your injuries. Have you healed up fully, or do you have any permanent damage that might affect your future work?”

The students- the ones who cared, at least- had sat forward in their seats once the reporter asked this question. Surprisingly, you just smiled and laughed- your left hand twitching, but no one else noticed that but Aizawa. 

“Yeah, I’ll admit, it definitely hurt afterwards. My husband gave me an earful about it, I assure you, but I’ve fully healed up and should be ready to get back to work in a few days.”

This is when it started getting bad. 

Unlike the reporter, the girls in his class- along with Midoriya- noticed your little ‘slip-up’ right away. Jirou had reached out and grasped Momo’s hand in shock, which in a way was cute, but Aizawa was too busy wondering if he could stop you from what you were about to do if he jumped out the window right now and was just really, really fast.

“Did- you have a husband?” 

“Oh my God, is this really happening,” Ashido holds her face in her hands as she stares at the screen. 

“Who is it?!” 

“Yes, I do. We’ve been married for a few years- I’m a little shocked that no one’s caught us yet, but Eraserhead is really good at keeping things hidden.”

Ah, there it is. 

The whole class, as if on cue, starts yelling loudly and staring at their teacher who’s literally sitting dumbly in his chair, hands stuffed in his pockets and face halfway stuffed in his scarf. He hisses long and low as he stares at the screen in front of the class- looks at you and your stupid fucking grin. 

“Aizawa-sensei, is he joking?!”

“Aizawa-sensei, let me see your ring!”

“Aizawa-sensei?!”

This is the worst day in history. This is the worst. Aizawa quickly stands up, shutting the TV off. His students are still screaming, some of them getting out of their seats, and the hero is just... he’s done. 

“Alright. Class is over for the rest of time. Goodbye.” And then he opens the window next to his desk- the quickest escape route. He hears Midoriya yell at him that this isn’t the first floor, but Aizawa knows that. He just doesn’t care. Using his scarf, he lunges out the window without a care.

He heads straight home, where he knows you know he’ll be waiting for you. And oh boy, once you get home? You are not going to hear the end of it for a long, long time. 

[127-mile]

Now that we found love.

Pairing : ceo!Suh Johnny x black widow!Reader.

Genre : Rich!au, friends to lovers / Fluff, angst, smut.

Warnings : non-explicit mention of death, mature content (semi-public sex, fingering, slight dirty talk, spit as lube, slight choking, unprotected sex (use protections kids), come eating), alcohol.

Word count : +10k.

Plot : Yn travels a lot, and in each new city, each new country, she is known for being irresistible and for always getting what she wants. She also lures wealthy people into marriage, just before they meet an untimely death. Johnny is a young and wealthy CEO who decided to enjoy a well deserved summer of freedom. Yn knows him, knows his fortune. She wants him. Terribly.

You can't escape my affection, wrap you up in my daisy chains.

A/N : Hello, and welcome to another collab organized by the wonderful @neo-cult-ure​ for summer. We had to choose a song with the word summer, and I picked Summer Bummer by Lana Del Rey. Please, go read the others writers works, and give us feedback, it’ll be much appreciated. + prompt from idea-garden.

"Johnny, let me introduce you to Yn, she's going to do her internship here with you." Mr. Suh says with a thin smile to the boy who nods his head. He's tall, and handsome although a little uncomfortable in his tailored suit. You know Johnny, you were in high school together and from what you've heard from your friends he's still the same. A very nice boy, with a full wallet. Which is of course a plus.

"I hope you take good care of her, and show her everything she needs to know over the next months or so." once more Johnny nods without opening his mouth, lips pursed. "Perfect! Welcome miss." you smile at the man who takes his leave. Then finally you turn to Johnny once more, your smile is more mischevious now. "Daddy's business eh?" He rolls his eyes, of course he remembers you, too. You didn't have the best relationship back then, maybe because you always had fun annoying him.

He never deserved this kind of treatment, but maybe your problem with dealing with your emotions and feelings was the reason, or maybe because you just liked to draw attention on yourself in the worst ways. "I'm kidding Johnny, I'm here to learn, not to annoy you." He sighs, and you don't know if it's a good thing or not, but eventually he opens his mouth. "Don't worry, everyone has the same reaction when they hear that I work here. Come on, I'll show you your office."

Coming from a person like Johnny Suh, it was to be expected that he would work in his father's company. Such a large, wealthy, and influential company is held for generations, and Johnny being an only child belongs in this place. "It's cool I think, working here. No matter what happens during your school years, you know you have a comfortable place waiting for you, with an office overlooking the city, and a good pay in the end of each month."

Johnny stays silent, and he gets on the elevator. The climb to the 20th floor is silent, and tense. Maybe that wasn't the best way to start a conversation, and start a friendship. But no one can resist your charms, so you know that at one point or another, he'll crack and open up more to you. Being so charming is one of the reasons your wallet looks so awesome at your age, especially for a student. But he doesn't need to know that detail.

Finally, he walks to a room which is large and contains several desks. He shows you one of them. "There you go, this is where you will be." You think he's going to leave, but instead he takes his place behind the desk which is in front of you and only separated by a transparent screen. At least if you're bored, you'll have plenty of time to admire Johnny. "So tell me. What are we doing?" you try to look excited to help relax Johnny, and that seems to work for a second since he doesn't frown anymore. "Not much, we take care of the photocopies, the simple contracts, and if you're unlucky enough to run into an idiot, you'll make the coffee."

Well, you couldn't expect to do anything more interesting. "Good thing, I love making coffee." at least that remark has a knack for making Johnny laugh, and it's nice to hear. To be honest, you didn't apply to do your internship at this company because you dream of running a business that is worth millions of dollars. Rather because you dream of emptying the pockets of the people who work there. You see, you had the best example growing up. Your mother had a knack for bringing different men home over the years, and eventually they all disappeared. And when they disappeared, the house got bigger, and the car more luxurious. It didn't take long for you to figure out what was going on. Your mother was a black widow. And you wanted to be one too.

You grew up in luxury, and you plan to grow old in luxury.

One month is enough to change your relationship with Johnny. You even start to regret having bothered him so much in school, because he is adorable, and he thinks of others before thinking of himself. He is intelligent, and well spoken. You enjoy being in his presence, that's a fact.

And to be honest, if bringing so many men to your feet weren't your main mission for the future, you might fall in love with Johnny. And even with said mission, it's hard for you to resist his charm. Yes, you have a natural charm, but so does he. Besides, you are breathless when you see him, in a costume that costs probably three times your rent, talking to his father.

The company decided to throw a party to celebrate the end of your 3 months internship, so Johnny decided to put everything on his physique. With his black hair slicked back, and the thin glasses that are held by a gold chain around his neck. You shake your head, and you walk into the room where several of your future former colleagues greet you. You smile, and you gladly accept the glass of champagne offered to you. While waiting for Johnny to realize your presence, you speak with several people. Little unnecessary conversations, but after a while you feel a hand resting on your shoulder.

"You are radiant tonight! Excited to leave us?" Johnny asks, and you smile as you face him. Yes, even if the internship is over, Johnny will continue to come and work with his father when his schedule allows it. "Not really, I'll miss seeing you bump into desks and knock down coffees."

Johnny, on top of his 6ft pouts, and you bite your lip so as not to laugh. He's adorable, but you're sure it would be frowned upon to approach him to squich his cheeks. "I am not doing it on purpose !" he finally said with an offended expression. You drink the last sip of your champagne, and you put your glass on the nearest table. "Of course not! But really, I will miss you." it's the truth, you got attached to that big idiot.

Johnny's smile is triumphant and you roll your eyes. "I'll miss you too, but we'll meet again." you don't know when, since you're going to go back to university, and you don't know where you will even be in a few months, but you nod your head. "Of course! You owe me seven coffees, and I intend to charge you for them one by one."

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. You laugh with Johnny as you accumulate glasses of champagne, and when the guests start to leave, you feel good. And tipsy. Johnny isn't in a better shape, he laughs a lot and makes jokes that would be considered inappropriate if they didn't make you laugh so much.

And his hand has found its place in your lower back every time you moved around the room. Eventually it's time for you to leave too so you greet the last guests including Johnny's dad and you leave the building. Yes, you will miss this building with those large windows and the magnificent view they offer over the city. Johnny follows you closely, whispering everything and nothing until he pulls up in front of a car with an engine running.

"You want a ride home ?" He asks, and you nod your head. You've got your car in the parking, but you're not stupid enough to take it with so much alcohol in your body. A chauffeur gets out, and he opens the back door. You wolf-whistle and he laughs. "Well well Johnny Suh has his own chauffeur !"

You sit by the window, and Johnny takes a seat in the middle. His thigh against yours, you let your head fall on his shoulder. It's silent, at least until you open your mouth. "I'm so sorry, you know. For bothering you so much at school." Some people have it nasty, or sad, or even horny because of alcohol, but when it comes to you, alcohol forces you into a guilty mode. And that's not fun. "Eh it's fine, don't feel bad about it. It was years ago." you raise your head, and your eyes meet Johnnys' who is smiling softly. You lean over and place a little kiss on the corner of his lips. "You shouldn't be so nice Johnny."

When the car pulls up in front of your apartment complex, the driver helps you get out without hitting your head or tripping over the sidewalk. You raise your eyebrow, and you watch Johnny for a second. "I will miss you, Suh." you lean over the opened window to kiss his cheek and with those words, you turn on your heels.

The car's door closes, as does this chapter of your life.

Five years have passed since the departure party organized at the Suh company. And boy, things have happened in five years.

First, you graduated. Not that you use those three years of schooling to do something useful, but it is something you can brag about every now and then.

Second, you deepened your work as a black widow. If you initially only used your charms to get money from old people in need of attention, now you get a lot more. You live in constant luxury. You travel the world, you visit wonderful places, and each time, you leave with a little more money in your bank account. A bit more ? Who are you kidding? With a lot more.

Third, you haven't seen Johnny again. Well, you've seen him several times in five years, but not in person. You've seen him on the cover of magazines, in interviews, and on television. Johnny has become one of the youngest, wealthiest, and most beautiful CEOs. Nothing really surprising.

And above all, he has become your next prey.

Normally, you are satisfied with old people who do not necessarily have a family who will worry about seeing him fall in love with a young girl like you. And above all, you don't attack people you already know. But Johnny .. Johnny has something you want. Youth, money. And it's an experience that couldn't hurt you, right ?

If you thought you could have fallen in love with him when you were younger, you have changed now, you have matured and you no longer succumb to the charms of anyone around you. You have nothing to fear.

And summer seems like the perfect time to have him.

Johnny decided it was time for him to take his first vacation since taking over the family business. And fortunately, you had a friend who still worked with the Suh family, ready to give you the information you needed for a small financial compensation. So here you are.

"Keep laughing, and I'm going to hurt you." you mumble while bringing the blanket over your face to prevent the rays of sunshine from dazzling you. You feel movement next to you, and immediately, Ten's laughter echoes right in your ear, which makes you growl. "You little shit!" he laughs harder, encircling your body with his arms and you fidget to withdraw from his embrace, the room is too hot, you don't need that extra warmth.

You stop moving when Ten puts his head on your chest, and you think you can enjoy a few more minutes of sleep, but it is too much for Ten who gets his phone to finish watching the video that clearly woke you up. "Why are you even awake? It's too early." Ten is used to sleeping late, and you don't know why this morning is different. "You were snoring." he deadpanned.

You punch him in the shoulder, and he squeaks before sitting down, rubbing his bare skin. "Why did you do that?" He asks, a pout on his face and you sigh. "I don't snore." you take your phone from the charger and whine at the time on the screen : 7:04am. The jetlag is still rough on you even after two weeks, or is that just you growing older, all you wanted was to spend your day in bed, but obviously, Ten had other ideas.

"What are we doing today ?" Ten asks and you shrug. "You, I don't know, but I have someone to see." Ten frowns, he's annoyed that he's always the last to know about your plans. It must have been 4 years since he joined your little shenanigans after the sudden death of his father, and yet, it's like you don't trust him enough. "I thought we were here to enjoy some time off ? Didn't you say you needed a break ?"

You get up from the bed and laugh softly. Ten is adorable, that's something you know for sure. But he's even more naive, that would make him almost endearing. "Oh, honey. I don't have time for a day off. Maybe in two or three years from now." you never thought about ending your little black widow career. You're having too much fun, and the feeling of having a full bank account is divine. "But you are welcome to leave, if you want."

The subject of his departure is put on the carpet every time you move to a new place, but he never did. He never left. On one hand, he likes the luxury life that you offer him too much, and on the other, he is afraid that you will not let him get away with it so easily because he knows all your secrets. And he's right, you will never let him leave you. Or maybe you will. In a body bag.

"That's what I thought," you say when Ten stays silent, avoiding your gaze. You take your purse, and take out a credit card to throw it on his lap. "Go have fun. Treat yourself, find yourself a cute little thing to bring back home tonight." With these words, you lock yourself in the bathroom for a long shower. The water is hot, and it leaves your skin burning, incredible. When you go out, a towel wrapped around your chest, you hear the water coming from the second bathroom, which means that Ten is getting ready to go out too. It's still early, so you definitely have time to eat breakfast with him before you go looking for your new prey.

"Breakfast ?" you ask when Ten return to the room, with his usual mischievous smile. The conversation already forgotten, and you can thank the credit card for that. Ten likes pretty things, and you like to make him happy, it's a good deal. Together, you leave the house to a small café you discovered the day you moved here. The house offers a magnificent view of the sea. In the height of summer, the heat is overwhelming, so you promise to go for a walk on the beach when the sun goes down. And if you're lucky enough, maybe you won't be alone.

The small town begins to fill with tourists who go to the beach. You stop to admire a few shops, barely listening to Ten, and after a little while, you enter said café. The boy behind the counter smiles at you, offering you a view of beautiful dimples. "Good morning, what can I do for you?" He asks in a soft voice, music to your ears. "Two iced Americano, please." He nods, and he turns to prepare the drinks.

"There you go, enjoy!" He tells you by handing you the plastic cups after you've paid. This is the problem of having a new prey, you have no idea how long it will take before you see them, or before you have the opportunity to speak to them. It's boring to say the least, but it's worth it. Well, you hope that Johnny will be worth it, and if it is not the case, well you'll go to the next one.

You sit by the glass window, Ten facing you. He sighs, and you tilt your head to the side. "A penny for your thoughts?" he shrugs before taking a sip of coffee. "Nothing," Ten begins, "why here? You don't like tourists, and most of all, you don't like the beach." He's not wrong, you have always preferred big cities, the bustle, the constant hum of cars, the smell of pollution and above all, the absence of sand. "Because I had no choice." You shrug and Ten shakes his head. He knows he won't have much more information. He's a good boy.

Once your coffee is done, you get up under Ten's curious gaze. "Okay, I have things to do. See you later? Take care of yourself." You bend down, and kiss his forehead, and like a cat, Ten seeks more warmth from your lips. You go out of the little café smiling at the barista, and you walk to the city center. If the message you received earlier was not wrong, your prey should be around the Royal Albion Hotel. So you go there, your hands in the pockets of your thin jacket, and strangely enough, you see him. That was easy. You could say this is beginner's luck, but Johnny is definitely not the first.

Brown hair covering his eyes, the sun giving his skin a beautiful glow, a camera hanging from his neck. Johnny Suh is standing in all his glory. You approach slowly, admiring the width of his shoulders, and the way the gentle breeze rushes through his white shirt.

You tap your index finger on his shoulder, and you clear your throat to make sure to get Johnny's attention. Immediately, he turns and when his gaze meets yours, a smile lights up his face. His beautiful face. "Oh, thank god! For a second I thought I was wrong, that would have been embarrassing." you say in a soft voice, and Johnny's smile doesn't fade, quite the contrary. The rays of sunshine reflect in his eyes which take on a golden hue. "Yn, what a surprise to see you here, it's been so long!" he hugs you for a few seconds before taking a step back to look you up and down. "What are you doing here ?"

"Oh, I needed a break. A break away from the big city, so what about you? Already tired of being the big boss of the Suh's company ?" you tilt your head, truly interested in what he has to say, well, you already know what he is going to tell you, but it's all in the act. The more genuine you look, the more he will trust you. And trust is what you look for the most when you have a new prey. If it works when you don't know your prey, it should also work when you already know it. And you don't think there's a lot of trust left between you after so many years apart.

Johnny shakes his head, his fingers rubbing his camera. "It is tiring, but I quite like it. I just felt like a break could be good." well, you're glad he decided to do that, it's much easier. Of course you could have waited a few more years, waited for his bank account to be fuller but you were never known for being patient. And you didn't have anything on your to-do list as of right now.

"I understand, you deserve to enjoy a little." he nods, a small laugh leaving his full, rosy lips. "You certainly have things to do, I wouldn't want to bother you." to support your words, you look at his camera, and Johnny follows your gaze, never losing his smile. "I wanted some shots of the beach, and maybe of the old village. But we could meet again later, what do you think?" you see, that's the advantage you don't have with a prey you don't know, it's not as easy to have a date or to strike up a conversation.

"Oh, I'd love to. I've been here for a couple of weeks already, maybe you'd like me to show you around? I know a pretty good restaurant." you tilt your head, your voice is overflowing with sweetness and you are almost sickened by it but it seems to work on Johnny whose gaze never leaves you. "That would be amazing, let's meet here at 6pm?" you nod your head, and a sudden surge of confidence makes you step forward to place a small kiss on his cheek.

You turn to wave at him, and you're pretty sure you see him blush, but it could very well be a trick played by the sun. You keep smiling until you get to the house. You have several hours to kill, you might as well spend them somewhere comfortable. You could have invited Johnny over, but you don't want to risk to get caught by Ten either bringing someone new, or with one too many glasses of alcohol clouding his judgment and stopping his brain to mouth filter to work. Ten has a big mouth, and you really don't want him to spill all of your secrets.

Time flies by, and before you know it, you find yourself waiting for Johnny at the same place you found him this morning. He's right on time, and he's still so handsome. His hair is wavy, maybe from the sea air, adorable. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." is the first thing he says to you when his gaze meets yours and you shake your head. "Not at all, I barely arrived five minutes ago."

The walk to the restaurant is pleasant. Tourists are always on the beach, or already home for a well-deserved shower. Johnny talks about his work, his photographs, the time you were both interns, everything and nothing. It's nice to be in his company, you think, even when the silence sets in, it's not heavy, it's comfortable. Which is rare with you. This is the perks of being old friends.

"Oh my god, I've been talking so much!" Johnny says, sitting across from you in the restaurant. He hides his face with his hands and you laugh softly. He looks like an embarrassed child, not what you would expect from the playboy Johnny Suh. "It's okay, I like hearing you talk!" you smile at him when he finally deigns to show his face, his cheeks a slight reddish tint. "You seem to be really passionate about photography, why didn't you continue in this path ?"

Of course, you know the answer, it's obvious. But you put it down anyway. Johnny sighs, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. "Oh you know, I didn't really have a choice. As an only child, it was obvious that I was going to take over my father's company. I tried to talk to him when I was younger, trying to make him understand that maybe selling the company and retiring would be a good thing, I've never taken such a hard slap in my life." he's laughing, but you can see in his eyes that it's not genuine.

"The idea of being like my father scared me when I was younger. Good grades at school, place in society, a wife and children who will take over when I'm too old to work, a reputation that should not be tarnished at the risk of losing everything. But I think that over time, I got used to the idea." Johnny shrugs, and even though you're here to seduce and manipulate him, your heart hurts for him. Because Johnny is a good person, he deserves to be happy the way he wants. "It's not that bad after all."

You shake your head, you can't afford to have sympathy, or worse, empathy for someone you are going to manipulate and kill. Yes, knowing your prey has many advantages but also disadvantages. You can't afford to be sensitive, and be fooled. "It's sad anyway. Having a child, and not allowing him to live the life he wants, not wanting him to be happy and flourish in the life that he built for himself." Johnny sighs, but before he can open his mouth to answer, he's cut off by the waitress. "It is what it is." he says when she is gone.

"Enough about me, what's up? What has happened in the past five years?" he asks, and you shrug. Of course, you have prepared a speech, the same that you give to all your preys. “Oh, well I graduated, and I realized that wasn't what I wanted to do at all. So I gave myself a year to travel, and to think. I started to get a taste for travelling, for discovering new cultures, so much so that I never stay long in one place. I find small jobs, and when I'm bored, I find my next destination." in a way, you're not really lying. You've spent the last few years traveling, but not for the reasons he thinks.

"But it's tiring in the long run, you know. Not having a place to call home. I know I'm still young, that I can land somewhere, and make a living, start a family, but that's the problem, I don't know where I want to make my life."

Johnny nods, he listens intently, it's like he's drinking your words, and it's genuinely adorable. “I understand,” he begins. "I hope you find the place where you feel comfortable and happy." if he knew this place was going to be his apartment, he would certainly be surprised. But one thing at a time.

"Tell me, heartbreaker, do you have someone in your life? I've read every one of your interviews, and you're still very secret about your private life. Tell me everything." he scoffs, and you put your elbows on the table to get closer to him. You're ready to hear it all, and why would he refuse? You were friends once. "I don't have time for a serious love affair. I have one night stands, but that's it."

You sigh dramatically before taking a sip of the wine. "What do you mean you don't have time for a love story? You don't have time because you don't give yourself time. Maybe that would change if you had someone who was waiting for you at home every nights. Don't you think ? " you ask, tilting your head, and he seems to think about it.

"You're absolutely right. But who would want a man like me? My job is my priority, and it will remain my priority until I reach the age to hand over to someone else." Johnny is really not trying to make an effort. "Listen to me, Suh. You are an amazing man, you are kind, smart and selfless. Your job is your priority because you haven't experienced anything else during the past years. You haven't had the chance to experience love. So of course right now you can't imagine your life without your job in mind, but it will happen, believe me."

The way the dinner turned isn't how you thought it would, but that's okay. You have three weeks to make him fall under your spell, and what better than a serious discussion eh? Fortunately after that, the conversation becomes lighter, and you talk about the memories of your internship. Besides, when you leave the restaurant, you are not yet finished. It is true that there are a lot of things to say.

"Do you remember the departure party, when I brought you home? I was planning to kiss you." He says, giggling. He drank too much wine, and so have you, but it's more visible on him. The tips of his ears are red, and so are his cheeks. It's cute, you can't say otherwise. "Oh yeah? And why didn't you do it?" He shrugs and stops near the beach. "It's your fault! You kissed me on the cheek, you broke the mood!"

"Did I break the mood?" You ask by removing your shoes to put your feet on the sand, wincing at the feeling between your toes, Johnny following you without being asked. "I can't believe it! Say you were afraid of being rejected." He rolls his eyes, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. To be honest, you have missed that kind of pointless little argument that you always had. "Being rejected? Why? You said it yourself, I'm an amazing man."

Using your own words against you is dirty, but you're laughing. You walk towards the water, and even if you can't see him, you can feel Johnny's presence behind you. "You know, if you had kissed me, maybe you wouldn't have to come into an empty house every night."

After that evening, you saw Johnny every day for an entire week. Whether it was to go for a coffee, or to take pictures, you were inseparable. And you found out that he was more than his good physique and his incredible smile. Once again, you found yourself stuck. Because once again, you knew that you could fall in love with him if you were not careful.

When you told Ten about Johnny, he advised you not to do it, not to choose him. He said it might get you in trouble, and maybe even put you in danger and you start to think that for once, maybe he was right. As for the danger, you don't know if you could ever be, but for the problems ... yes. Because it's hard not to get attached to Johnny, not wanting to hear his melodious laughter every day, and to see him smile at every opportunity.

You hate to admit it, but because of Johnny, you were starting to question your black widow status. You are weak. Weak for Johnny. But it's wrong, you can't afford it. You have to continue with your plan. You will seduce him, make him fall in love with you, and you will end up with your name in his will. Too bad if it hurts, you'll get over it eventually.

Ten noticed the change in your behavior. Because normally, in a week, you are already more involved in the life of your prey. But with Johnny, nothing happened. Not even a kiss. So of course, every time you come home from a day with Johnny, he teases you like the little shit he is. You gotta step up your game before you beat Ten's ass.

That's why you decided to invite Johnny over to the house for the first time. The atmosphere will be nice, and relaxed, maybe that will help you to take it up a gear. "I invited Johnny over to the house for dinner tonight, so if you could leave, it would be nice." Ten barely looks up from his bowl of cereal and he sighs. He's spent his week trying not to cross you or Johnny, mostly because he knows you don't trust him. And he is right.

"Okay." He says as he stand up to throw the rest of his milk in the kitchen sink. "I think I can still find myself a cute little thing." at least he's not bored, because he's charming and people have a hard time resisting him. Luckily, he doesn't kill these people, he just spends a nice night with them and lets them go the next day. Unlike you.

You spend the rest of the day preparing for Johnny's coming. You install fairylights in the garden, you put candles on the table and flowers that you bought earlier. It's pretty, and you might throw up. After a long cold shower, you dress simply, it is way too hot to make a fuss.

And at eight o'clock sharp, Johnny knocks on the door. You open, and you are met with a big smile, and a bouquet of red roses in his hands. "It's for me ?" you ask, tilting your head, and he admires the bouquet. "No, for the neighbor, but I haven't had the chance to see her." you roll your eyes and push yourself to let him in the house. Finally, he gives you the flowers, and you thank him with a kiss on the cheek. "I have everything prepared in the garden, so you can go and sit down while I put the flowers in a vase."

He obeys, and finally you find yourself alone in the kitchen. You have to calm your heartbeat, because this boy really knows how to play with your heart strings without even doing anything. You go out, and  sit down across from Johnny who is too engrossed in his phone to notice you. You clear your throat, but it still doesn't help. "Johnny Suh, if you don't put your phone down right now, I'm going to hurt you." he smiles, and he puts his phone on the table, the screen against the wood. "Ah yes, and how are you going to do that?"

You think for a moment, and get up. Luckily Johnny's chair is pushed out, so you sit on his lap without asking his permission. Even though he looks surprised at your bold action, he puts his hands on your waist, probably to keep you from falling. "I do have a few ideas." with your index finger, you trace shapes on Johnny's chest whose breathing quickens slightly.

"Show me ?" if he insists. You bend down, and you grab his lower lip between your teeth to pull on it. He tenses, and when you pull back, you can see him come forward to chase your lips. Adorable. Then you slide your lips down his jawline to bite the skin, and you end up on his throat which you bite down several times, hard enough to leave a mark that will take on a beautiful purple hue tomorrow. Johnny growls, and you smile, proud of yourself. "Like that, I guess."

"Is that the reason you invited me tonight?" He asks in a low voice and you shake your head, both of your hands on his chest. His hands haven't left your waist, and you avoid thinking about the heat they radiate. "Of course not, I intended to wait until dessert to do that."

"You're sweet enough, no need to wait." with those words, he leans in to kiss you, and you sigh against his lips. You underestimated how bad you wanted to kiss him, taste his soft, plush lips. You wrap your arms around his neck and respond to the kiss. It's cute and sweet at first, and when you feel the tip of his tongue on your lower lip, you open your mouth and then a battle for dominance begins.

His hands slip under your t-shirt and you shudder slightly. His hands are cold and yet his fingers leave a scorching mark on your skin. It is extremely pleasant. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?" he mumbles against your lips before sliding them down your neck. He kisses your skin, and he bites repeatedly. You purse your lips, but when he bites particularly hard, a moan escapes you and he smiles.

"This is what I was looking for." you answer, already out of breath. With a quick movement, you open his shirt and hear the sound of buttons falling to the floor. "Hey!" he gently hits your thigh and you laugh. He's beautifully muscular, and your mouth waters. Your fingers draw the contours of his abs and he takes the opportunity to remove your t-shirt.

His lips attack the top of your chest without delay and you roll your hips against the obvious bulge in his pants. "Shouldn't we go to your room?" He asks and you look at him with a smirk. "Oh, is the big Johnny Suh afraid of being caught?" you tilt your head, and his response is immediate. He gets up, and you squeak. He puts you on the table, forcing your legs open to get in between. "I'm not afraid of anything."

He kisses your belly, and of course, he bites the skin and you squirm under him. You need more, so much more. But Johnny seems to like to tease you since he takes a long time to unbutton your pants and take them off. "Please Johnny." you whine, and he looks at you, eyes darkened with lust. "What do you want ?" you're used to being the most dominant in this kind of situation but Johnny is impressive, and for some reason you feel intimidated when he's around you. And even more so when he has his hands on you.

"Touch me, please." Johnny scoffs, and he strokes the side of your thighs. "This is what I am doing." you sigh, if he wants to play, then you have to play back when it is your turn to have your hands on him. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, his fingers slide down your panties and Johnny notices the wet stain and he bites his lip. "Pretty."

He takes your panties off, and he doesn't waste a moment to collect your wetness on his fingers. You buck your hips, but his free hand pins your down on the table. "No moving. You'll take what I give you." You really wonder what happened to the guy who blushes when you kiss his cheek, because right now he is nowhere to be found. "Come on, don't be a bitch John !" you mutter, and he looks up. "You always have to run your mouth, don't you ?" you feel the heat coming to your cheeks, and he opens his mouth again to talk. "Guess I'll have to put it to use."

You frown, and the thumb of the hand who was pining you down minute ago brushes against your lower lip. You open your mouth and two of his fingers slide inside your mouth. His fingers presse on your tongue and you almost gag which seems to be funny to him. "Good girl. Stay quiet now." The pad of his fingers rub against your clit but before you can try to get any pleasure out of it, the fingers are gone. Not for long because one of them ease itself inside of you and you close your eyes.

Drool gathers on the side of your mouth with Johnny's fingers inside, and you probably already look fucked with red bitten lips and messy hair. "More, more." you plead, but the sound coming out of your mouth is incomprehensible. Johnny seems to understand, because another finger joins the first. He moves his hand slowly, and he is not looking for your g-spot, no, he tries to get you to lose your mind. And honestly ? He is going to succeed.

"Oh, are you crying princess ?" he asks, and you finally feel the tears rolling down your cheeks from frustration. He takes his fingers off your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them to your lips. It's absolutely disgusting, but at the same time, it is arousing. "Please, fuck me John." your voice is broken, throat sore, and yet you haven't even put it to good use. "Eager." he whispers.

Yes, you are eager. You need to feel more of him, to feel everything or you'll really go crazy. You sit up on the table, and wince at the wet feeling between your thighs. And was it that hot outside earlier or is it just your inside boiling? Your hands find Johnny's belt, and you drop it to the floor, before unbuttoning the pants. He slides down Johnny's muscular legs, and with a kick he completely take them off.

His cock is straining in his boxer and it makes your mouth waters a little more. God, you can't wait to have it in you. You palm him through it, and he exhales loudly. "You're so big John." of course he smiles, and you take his boxer down. He is thick, and long and you flick your wrist a few time at the head. You spread precum down his lenght, and when it gets too much, Johnny grabs your wrist. "Enough. Lay down."

You lie down on the table, and you try to find a position that won't break your back, but it's difficult. Fortunately, Johnny didn't put you near the candles, or the plates. Johnny spits into his hand to lubricate his cock some more, and you close your eyes when you feel the head against your hole. Slowly, he eases himself inside and you moan lowly. "Oh fuck."

He bottoms out, and he stays still. As eager as he is, he doesn't want to hurt you and you are thankful for that. "Move, please." he doesn't need to be told twice, so he starts to move. It's slow, but soon enough, it's deep and your hands find his arms. Your nails probably leave crescent marks, but you don't care, and he doesn't either because he growls when he feels the sting.

He pulls back until all you have inside is the head, and he slams his hips against yours. The noise you let out is loud, and lewd. Your neighbors probably picked up of what was happening and it makes the all moment way more exciting. His thrusts are more brutal, and you roll your eyes. You can already feel the heat in the pit of your stomach and it is embarassing how quick you could reach your climax but Johnny is good. Yes he is really good. "You're so tight, it's like you were made to take my dick." you moan at that, who thought he would have a dirty mouth.

"Yes yes, just for you." you mumble and his hand finds your throat. He doesn't apply any pressure, but the feeling of his fingers is maddening, like his pace. Your legs are shaking, and Johnny is smiling. He feels how you squeeze around his cock and he knows you're close. He is too, he can almost taste his orgasm on the tip of his tongue. He frowns when your hand lands on the one around your throat, but he quickly understands. "Slut." he presses his fingers to cut your air flow and it seems to do the trick because without any warning, your orgasm washes over you.

You see stars, and you whine because of the oversensitivity but Johnny doesn't really care, right now, he is chasing his own pleasure. When he feels it, he pulls out, which makes you sob. You wanted to feel so full, so so bad. "Later baby." he strokes his cock over your tummy and he cums with a loud moan. Long strikes of white land on your skin.

Johnny stops his movement, and he drops on the chair behind him. He is breathless, his hair stick to his forehead and his chest is glistening with sweat. "Fuck." you sit down, wincing at the pain in your back. You run two fingers through the cum on your stomach, and when you know Johnny is watching you, you slip your fingers in your mouth, licking them clean. He groans, throwing his head back. "You're so fucking dirty, you're going to make me hard again."

"We should shower." you say, and he nods. Before he can run inside the house, you make grabby hands toward him and he rolls his eyes. "You're such a baby !" but he still helps you on your legs and hold you close while you tell him where the bathroom is.

After another round in the shower, you find yourself tucked in bed, your head on Johnny's chest. His breathing is steady, so as yours. You haven't feel so relaxed in a long time, and you know it is the same for Johnny. He kisses the top of your head, a peaceful smile on his face before yawning. "Yes, maybe I should have kissed you that night." is the last thing he says before both of you are too tired to keep your eyes open.

That's what you wanted to hear. You have him wrap in your daisy chains.

When you open your eyes, the first thing you feel is the emptiness next to you, and the coolness of the sheets. For good measure, you roll on the other side of the bed, and you inhale the scent on the pillow. Yes, Johnny did spend the night here, it was not just a mirage. You sit up, a pout on your face. Has he already left? And without a word? Your heart tightens at the idea.

You want nothing but to get some more sleep, to forget Johnny's absence, but voices are suddenly reaching you. You get up, grabbing the first clothes you can find, and walk to the kitchen. It smells like pancakes, and you close your eyes for a second to enjoy it. You have barely entered the kitchen when your gaze falls on Johnny and Ten. They talk while cooking. Ten nudges Johnny with his shoulder to push him off the stove before he burns the pancakes on the pan.

"Good morning ?" you ask, and two pairs of eyes turn to you. Both boys smile, and you bite your lip when you see the marks on Johnny's neck. He is even more attractive in the early morning, which is not fair. "Oh, good morning Yn! Johnny was ready to set the kitchen on fire when I got home, so I'm helping him with breakfast!" Ten says.

Johnny puts the wooden spatula on the counter even though he only used it to hit Ten, and he walks in your direction and you tilt your head. "I thought you were gone." you mumble and he cups your face in his hands. "Why would I have done that?" he leans over and kisses you tenderly. You are not going to lie, you feel your heart racing, but you push this feeling very far. "Can you stop? Not everyone is happy and in love, it's disgusting!"

Johnny laughs against your lips at Ten's words, and he pulls back, taking your hand, and leading you into the kitchen. "Sit down." you take a seat on a stool around the kitchen island, and Johnny puts down some fruit he has sliced, and some orange juice all under Ten's disgusted gaze. "Don't be jealous Ten, you'll find someone as perfect as Yn someday." This hurts more than you would have thought, because you are not perfect, you are not even close. Johnny is just too good.

After that night together, the dynamics of your relationship changed completely. From childhood friends, you became lovers. And everyday you feel horrible. You don't deserve Johnny, he's way too good. And even Ten is catching up on the situation. When Johnny is at home, and he's around, he gives you sideways glances, and when you're alone, he asks you every time if it's a good idea to continue. Yes it is. It's too late to turn back.

Today is Johnny's last day. Tomorrow he will be flying back home, and in a few days he will be back behind his desk running one of the biggest companies. And you see it by the way he talks, the way he's lost in his thoughts, that he's wondering what will happen with you after that. Because he knows what you think about the idea of ​​officially landing somewhere. This is a discussion you must have, and now is the best time.

You walk on the beach with Johnny, your fingers intertwined. And you couldn't ask for better company. "So, did you pack your bags?" you ask, and he remains silent. The beach is almost deserted, except for couples enjoying the last rays of the sun. "John?" you stop, and he follows you, turning to you. "Is everything okay ?"

He remains silent, but he opens his mouth to speak. "Summer relationships often have no future. When summer is over, so does the relationship." his voice is low, and his gaze is on the sand which he finds extremely interesting. "Why do you say that ?" you ask and he shrugs. "That's what it is, isn't it?" you put your hand on his cheek, and he finally lifts his head. You smile softly, his expression is painful, but you intend to make him smile very quickly.

"Maybe it's like that for other people, but that doesn't mean it has to be for us, don't you think?" at your words, his eyes open wide, and you can't help but smile. "You can be the reason I stop running. I can be the person waiting for you at home at night, what do you think?"

Johnny doesn't need to think, that's what he wants. He never wanted something as strong as having you by his side. When he decided to take a vacation away from work, he never thought he would fall in love with someone as surprising and incredible as you. "I think it's a really good idea." he leans over and kisses you. The situation looks really cliché, a passionate kiss on the beach, as the sun sets after making a decision that will change your lives. And yet, you don't mind. And god damn it you wish it was all true.

"Come home with me." he whispers against your lips, and the word "home" is enough to make your heart beat faster. You never thought of having a house, a place where you could be happy, too adamant on working more, but Johnny makes you want that life. It's chaos in your head. On one hand, you feel ready to put an end to your little illegal career, but on the other hand, you don't know if you will end up getting bored of this well-planned little life. You don't want Johnny to suffer when you decide to leave in the middle of the night.

"Okay .." you answer, and Johnny's smile is so beautiful and so bright that you force yourself to put the future in the back of your head. You allow yourself to take advantage of this moment of peace when the world no longer exists. Nothing exists except you and Johnny. Nothing. No one.

You did it.

In the hour following your talk on the beach with Johnny, you told Ten you were going to leave with Johnny. Ten didn't say anything, but you read the many questions he had on his face. Of course, you didn't leave him on the street. You gave him money, enough to live more than comfortably for the next few years, and you said goodbye to each other. Not for long, because Ten decided to rent an apartment near you, at least while he figured out what to do with his life.

As for you, you moved in with Johnny. Of course, he gave you the choice. You could either stay as long as you needed to find an apartment, or you could stay officially. And you chose the latter. Life with Johnny is calm, and passionate at first. Of course, the start of a new love is always amazing, passionate, and raw. This is the time when you get to know each other in every way possible, the time when you see if you are truly meant for each other.

And ... it hurts you to admit it but you and Johnny are meant to be together. A match made in heaven. You have different characters, but you complet each other in a way. Johnny changes. He comes home earlier, and he's a lot less stressed because he has someone waiting for him. And he's never been happier. Everything is perfect.

Except it isn't.

Ten is bored, and so are you. You often find yourself in his small apartment to talk about the years you spent together. And yes, you miss it. Johnny gives you everything you could have dreamed of, but not the adrenaline rush you crave every day. You need this, it's an addiction.

"I can't kill him, Ten. As much as I want to go back to our old life, I refuse to hurt him." you whisper one evening when Johnny had to leave in a two days business trip. "So don't kill him. Spare him." you laugh bitterly. "And what am I supposed to do then?" Sometimes Ten wonders how you managed to last almost two years without him, and when he tells you about his plan, you wonder too. You've wanted to get rid of him so many times, and yet he's the voice of wisdow you need.

Today is the day.

You are in Johnny's arms when you open your eyes. The sun is not up yet, you can see it through the curtains. Johnny's body radiates a pleasant warmth, and it takes a lot to lift yourself off. You watch him sleep peacefully for several minutes, sliding your fingers over his face, as if you want to memorize every detail. You lean over and kiss his lips. Pink and plush like the first time you kissed him.

"I love you."

You get up in silence, and you walk towards the guest room. Johnny never comes into this room, that's why you left your suitcases without being afraid he would find them when he came back the night before. You bring them near the front door, being careful not to knock them, or trip down the stairs. Finally, everything is ready. It is time. But first, you make one last stop by the room. Johnny hasn't moved.

You put a letter on the pillow where you used to sleep. It's the first thing he'll find when he wakes up. You could have texted him before throwing your phone in the trash, but that's more sincere. It is time. You open the door, and you see Ten waiting in a rental car near the house. He goes out, and in silence, he helps you put your suitcases in the trunk.

"Let's go ?" he asks, and you nod. And as the car drives off, Johnny is awakened by the noise. He turns around, ready to hug you back to sleep, but he can't find anyone. His fingers scratch a piece of paper which he grabs. He rubs his eyes with his free hand, and he turns on the bedside light.

"Johnny, I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, and I know that will never change. We will meet again when the time is right, I promise. I'll always find you." Johnny's voice is low, and suddenly, a sob echoes in the empty room. And in the car. The sound of broken hearts.

Another five years passed since you've last seen Johnny.

He tried to contact you, but each time he encountered a robotic voice telling him the number was not available. He tried to look for you, to look for Ten, but each time he found nothing but emptiness. He hired a private investigator, and he was close to finding you, but you noticed him before he noticed you. And after that long, crazy year, Johnny gave up.

On your side, you continued to travel with Ten. He never left you, and you were delighted about it. And also grateful. You don't know where you would be without him, as annoying as he is. But after five years, you feel it, it's time for you to quit. Ten has found love, and he plans to settle down and have a family. And you know love is waiting for you somewhere in an office, stressed and tired from several sleepless nights.

You don't regret anything. You have been lucky enough to travel the world, and have enough money for three more than comfortable lives and not once have you had problems. Of course, you don't know what the future holds for you on the legal side, but you don't think about it. You never thought about the future too seriously, you don't intend to start, not from that side. You have other things to do.

You have to find Johnny.

Finding Johnny isn't difficult in itself, but approaching him is. You can't afford to enter the Suh building, not without an appointment or for no good reason, so you decide to do what you can do best. Walk into people's lives without them asking for anything, but this time with Johnny's apartment. He hasn't moved, probably too busy for that, and it's not difficult for you to open the door.

Nothing has changed. The same photos are hanging on the wall, and it doesn't seem to have taken more than the last time you saw them, and if the apartment had become more cozy when you were there, it's forgotten. No more soft blankets on the sofas, plants on the furniture, flowers on the table. Just a model apartment. Tonight is like waiting for a new prey, you don't know how long you will have to wait before seeing them, how long they'll take to get home.

First you should stop referring Johnny as a prey. This life is behind you, and even if you can't explain it to him, you intend to make him understand too. You prepare the meal, and you set the table. You put out candles, and you sit down while waiting.

It is almost midnight when the door opens. If the living room lights weren't on, Johnny would probably have gone to bed without even having a bite to eat, but luckily he is caught by the light. He walks into the dining room, careful. He frowns when he sees you, but his expression changes to surprise. You get up to take a step in his direction. He's not moving, he's just watching your every move.

"Good evening, Johnny." you say in a soft voice, and you help him to get rid of his jacket that you put on the back of a chair. He remains silent. "I made dinner, I hope you're hungry." he sits on the chair you occupied a little earlier. "What are you doing here ?" he finally asks, and you breathe. You were starting to fear his reaction.

"I told you I'd find you again when the time is right. And it is."