#someone here to meet with my boss is standing in my lobby on a personal call)

[cultivating-wildflowers]

💭

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hiya! Was wondering about a bad blood that takes a woman from earth but she's fine with it? He expected more fighting from her but is pleased. Not sure how you feel about soulmates but maybe he's been drawn to her for awhile and finally just took her?

Are We Meant To Be? Part 2

Pairings: Cew’voc (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2995

Summary: So much time has passed since you last saw that mysterious figure. He saved you then abandoned you. You had discovered he was your soulmate too late. When all hope was lost, he comes back to you. Is it too late?

Author Note: Okay, I know this isn't entirely what you were asking for. But, I hope it's still okay. If not, let me know and I do another for you. I wanted to use this as an excuse to write a part two for this story.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1

All the years since that faithful day offered no relief. Since then, you’ve had your ups and downs. From ending up jobless and homeless, you were able to barely bounce back to a decent life. It wasn’t normal. It would never be normal again. Not without what you saw that night. Who or whatever that creature was… he was yours. As much as you were his. Two souls destined for one another.

The reminder made your heart ache. You gritted your teeth and rubbed the heel of your hand over your sternum. Some of your co-workers gave you a puzzled look before shaking their heads and going back to their business. You cleared your throat before squaring your shoulders to face the lobby and customers all over again.

A pain that’ll be with you till the end of time. You were used to it.

Twelve hours in the building was an average shift. It was the minimum you needed to work five days a week just to make do.

From living an average, normal life, meeting what had to be your soulmate had ruined everything. Despite the longing to see him, just a glimpse every so often, there was no chance. He abandoned you. It was unheard of. Usually soulmates for the first time they meet each other can’t leave each other. Some say its physical and others say its emotional. But to break apart within even the first day was beyond cruel. It’ll leave someone, yourself, broken and hollow.

That’s exactly what you are. A shell of the person you used to be. Now, here you were, a beggar for any change, even a penny. It could mean the difference between having a roof over your head or being homeless.

No one wanted you. Not even someone destined to be with you until you died.

The plates in your hand wobbled precariously. Your attention returned to your surroundings only to watch the four plates you had been carrying slip off of your arms. They came crashing down onto the ground. The porcelain shattering into tiny pieces at your aching feet. Food smears across the ground.

In the moments after that, you could only look down at the mess you’ve created. Your shoulders slumped. There was gasps that sounded through the lobby of the diner you worked out. But, you heard nothing. Stuck in your own world again while all you could do was look at the disaster at your feet.

This was it. Your last straw that broke the camel’s back. It seemed like you couldn’t hold down a job anymore. The pains in your chest only growing worse with the passing time. No one understood. This didn’t happen. Worst of all, it’s not like you had any insurance to work with. There was no help. All you did was suffer through the pain.

Over the white noise in your ears, you heard your name shouted at the top of someone’s lungs. Avery. Your boss. She came stopping around to stand in front of you with a heated glare in her eye. You simply lifted your head to look at her, dead and emotionless.

Her gaze flickered for a moment but returned to steel. One of her hands whipped out to point towards the door. “Get the fuck out of my establishment. You’re fucking useless,” she bit out with a ferocity you didn’t know she had. You blinked at her before finally picking up your feet and making your way to the door. Not even clocking out or taking off your apron.

There you had done it again. Lost another job. Useless. Just like she said. You couldn’t do anything right. Not even your own soulmate wanted to stay with you.

The concrete was harsh on your knees despite the jeans you were wearing. You had collapsed in the middle of the sidewalk. No one gave you a second glance; only giving you a look of disgust and going on their way. A broken sob left your chapped lips. The world around you closing in. You tilted your head backwards to gaze at the darkening sky.

It wasn’t long before day morphed into night. Sometime during the transition you had pulled yourself up and meandered along the path set in front of you. It was random and leading you further and further from the dingy apartment called home. The city you resided in offered nothing of relief. It allowed you to stay on a decently lit path through the side of town you resided in.

In your heart, something tugged you to stop. Your head finally picking up to find the street deserted. You had walked so far that not even those brave enough would venture out. A whine built in the back of your throat. This was pointless. Now, you were somehow lost. Your head tilted back to look at the dark sky. There was little to no stars that would dot the night sky. “What am I doing?” Your voice was hoarse. It lacked the warmth it had years ago.

All the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. The muscles that lined your back tightened. Your breath caught, body prepared for the worst while your mind hoped for the best. But, your luck has shown you how well that’ll go.

You neck creaked while it turned towards the dark alleyway. Nothing could be seen down the endless path. Either it turned off or ended towards the end.

A loud thump echoed off the walls. Your entire boy turned towards the entrance. The soft clicks of something entered the air. Your brows furrowed while you tried to deter was creating that noise. In your careless state and defense, you weren’t of sound mind. There was one thing in the world that would solve all of your issues.

It wasn’t here.

At the crest of the entrance, you eventually spotted the silhouette of a humanoid figure. Oh, not again. You took a couple of stumbling steps away and nearly fell over your own two feet. It seemed your lucky wasn’t the greatest.

Light shined off metal. Faster than a blink of an eye, your throat was snatched. Your back was pressed to a firm, hot surface. Humid heat washed over the top of your head and ran down the back of your neck. A shutter ran its course. The muscles in your body only tensing more.

Yet, in this moment, after everything that’s happened after four years… you didn’t care. Not any more.

Sharp clicks and growls vibrated into your ear. The firm grip around your throat tightened only fraction. “Mi-ne.” A voice growled that it could be felt in your bones. The declaration strong and firm.

A voice you recoginized. Your hands instantly go to the one holding you in place. Try as you may, you couldn’t tilt your head far enough back to look at the figure. But, the lack of an ache in your chest only solidified your thoughts.

This had to be him.

As your mouth opened to speak words he deserved, his free hand pressed something into your mouth. Two fingers coaxed you to swallow dryly whatever he had placed on your tongue. His palm still covered the lower portion of your face. You tried to speak and began to fight him. Anger filled your veins at not only past action, but his current ones now.

When the hands left you, you believed there was a chance for escape. Your entire body whipped around to face the towering creature. Only, for you to sway from the sudden, unwise move. Strong, capable hands grasped your shoulders before you could slam into the ground. A haze took over your mind and left you unstable.

The ground left the bottom of your feet. Then, you were hoisted onto a thick, muscular shoulder that dug into your waist and belly. The move caused you to wheeze and grab onto the a fish net like material that covered at least his toned back. “Let me go!” you screamed at the top of your lungs then began to beat on his back with clenched fists.

He takes it. Without complaint. The humanoid figure spins on his heel and lets the darkness engulf him again. Your cried for help and desperate attempt for freedom begins to fade. Whatever he forced you to ingest was starting to take effect already. Your movements turned sluggish. Every beat was weaker than the last.

“I… hate you,” was what you could say before the darkness consumed you. Your body falling limp on his shoulder.

Warmth. Comfort. Those were the first two things to greet you when your consciousness finally decided to wake up. A soft blanket swaddled your entire form and kept you safe from the lurking monsters. A groan left your lips. You squirmed in the swaddled you’ve been placed in until it loosened.

It took a monstrous amount of strength to open your eyes and blink away the fatigue sitting in your bones. What greeted you made you believe the night still claimed you.

Metal from ceiling to floor made up the room you were in. The blankets on your shoulders slipped off when you sat up to fully take in the space. Your jaw dropped. Five skulls were line on the wall behind you. All were creatures you didn’t recognize. You gulped and kept taking in the room. Weapons decorated some parts of the wall. A bean bag like chair was shoved into one corner. A fur like blanket draped over it.

That’s when you realize the blankets you had been covered with are fur from an unknown creature. You shuttered to think of all the death that was proudly displayed in here. Why… why would he take you in here? Surely, it wasn’t to kill you? No. Your head shook in the negative. He wasn’t. He would’ve already done that if so. Plus, something in your heart told you he wouldn’t harm you.

You were in the process of shuffling to your knees when the door slid open. The entire room filled with tension. It was him. Face still covered a metal mask.

He doesn’t move. The two of you engage into a staring contest.

Thoughts were running wild in your mind. From the last time you had saw him, there had been slight changes. Mainly scars. He was already adorned in them and proudly presenting them. But, more had been added to his collection. A nasty looking one started from an inch above his right collarbone and descended with small jags mostly downwards.

All of them… made him look good, despite not seeing his face yet.

Your first move was to tug the blanket tighter around you, like some sort of shield. He wasn’t terrifying. Not an ounce of fear in your heart at the sight of his towering form.

But, you were nervous, unsure of the whole situation. The most of all. You were angry. Four years. It’s taken him four years to come back into your life and decide you were worth something after all. Tears pooled in your eyes at the thought.

A glare set over your features. You sat back down on your butt and looked away from him. The creature doesn’t deserve your attention, let alone a second of your time. For all you could care, you were going to completely ignore him until he gives up. Let him feel the pain of being abandoned by the one you thought was supposed to your other half.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched at the mustard yellow figure stalked forward. Your ears strained to listen to each step as he made his way towards you. You strengthened your walls. The beast stopped at the edge of the mattress and gazed down at your figure. Then, he gingerly sat down a couple of feet away from you.

His scaly hand reached out timidly. A move you observed closely. When he got in range, you swatted at the approaching limp. The creature snatched his hand back and made an offended noise. You didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was looking at you as if you had grown a second head. To go against someone three times your mass was obviously stupid. Yet, here you were, protecting yourself from his touch in what could be taken in an aggressive matter.

Except, he held back and took the sign completely. The figure bowed his head. “I-I kn-ow… you are u-pset.” It sounded like he was struggling to speak English. Not as it’s a language he does not know, but like his mouth and throat can’t make the sounds well. “I have reasons. I-it shouldn’t b-e possi-ble. Can’t be.”

If his words were meant to be soothing he was doing the opposite. You hugged your knees tighter with a scoff and a roll of your eyes. You wanted to ask him the reasoning but felt like that would give him too much attention. Despite what your soul wanted since it finally get’s to see your other half again after so long.

“It’s wr-ong. You’re ooman. I’m…” he trails off and glances over at your curled up form. A position meant to protect you from incoming harm. “I’m not.”

For him to confirm your suspicions, you weren’t surprised. Not after finally getting to see him in a better light. The dark, mustard yellow of his skin was dotted with scales. The color and texture wasn’t normal. The size of him wasn’t normal. The blonde rubbery-like dreads that poured from his head weren’t normal.

“I-it’s aga-against ev-everything I know. I came back. I sh-shouldn’t have.” The masked creature made a noise of agony. One of his hands came to rub at his sterum. “But the pa-in. A-after s-so long. I grew weak. Co-uldn’t handle it. I-I ne-needed to lay e-eyes on you.” Words kept tumbling from him. Words you barely understood while he struggled with your language.

They almost, almost softened you. The same pain you endured the last four years was what he experienced as well. But, there was a difference. He purposefully abandoned you. He deserved the pain. You, on the other hand, did not.

You were only human, after all. “Where am I?” Your voice was barely about a hoarse croak.

He perked, only slight, at the sound. “My s-hip. I’ve h-idden us-us from your go-vern-ment senses behind a plan-et you ca-ll Jupiter.” Him clarifying he was an alien though, wasn’t on your list of possibilities. At least, not very high. The most you thought of him was a mutated, escaped human experiment. Not… that.

“Y-you’re an alien?” you gaped before reeling in your shock. There was no reason him to give the benefit of the doubt. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you.

“Yes,” he confirmed and dipped his head. The strange, rubbery dreads slipped over his shoulders to sway. “I a-m a Yautja. No-t t-that you know w-hat that is.” You bristle at his offensive words and sent a heated glare at the alien. He brushed it off with a shrug. “My name is Cew’voc. A-and yours?” You turned your head away again as your answer. He has not earned that right to know you.

Newly named Cew’voc purred with mirth. It took every ounce of will not to spin around and punch him. How dare he laugh!

“That is-is okay. I-I can just look-k it up.” Whatever he had for a face, there had to be a smirk on it. You could hear it. You bristled against and huffed. This surely couldn’t be your soulmate.

A new silence fell over the two of you. For a moment, tense peace. Until you heard a mechanical hiss. Your head whipped over to find Cew’voc’s hands gripping the metal mask that adorned his face. Carefully, the alien tugged the cover free and let his features be revealed.

Alien. He was completely alien. Three mandibles tipped with sharp fangs protruded from where what looked to be a mouth. The mouth area had an animal like jowl but the front area was open. Similar to a person, he had a jaw. Teeth protruded from both the jaw and upper side of the mouth. Terrifying teeth that looked deadly.

Then, his eyes. Those felt like a predator was staring directly into your soul. You couldn’t help the shutter than ran its course. They were a bright, scary yellow that almost seemed to glow in the calm lighting of the room.

After you exploration of his face, you find the alien with its only upper mandible quirked up. As if he was smirking at you. You glowered.

In broken, struggling English, the Yautja spoke your name. You swiftly got on your knees to be the same height as him and pointed a finger at him. “You don’t deserve the right to say my name! You abandoned me,” you grounded out. Cew’voc simply raised a brow in your direction then amusedly shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t! You don’t get to brush me off like that. Four years of misery because of your scared little ass running away.”

Now, that got a reaction out of him. The alien stood up to a lumbering height above you and glared down at you over his mandibles. “I am n-o co-coward. I’m Yautja. S-strong, mi-ghty.” He thumped a fist over his chest. “Do not a-cused me with fa-lsehood.”

You didn’t fear him. Not one bit. You stood up to be eye with him on the bed and got into his face. “Yes. The fuck. You are! You ran away with your tail between your legs like a little sissy crying to your mom!” Despite nearing twenty-three, you used some middle school insults that hopefully did the trick.

The anger that covered his features melted away when he slumped back with another smirk. “Oh, we may g-et alon-g yet.”

Oh, you doubted that.

[sissylittlefeather]

It's time for a new series! Introducing:

This is the Story

A/N: This is my first experiment with an OC! Her name is Grace Dubois (doo-bwah) and she's a writer and single mom of 6-year-old Wendy. I hope you all love her! The story takes place in 1973. I don't want to say much more and give anything away!

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: not really any yet. There's some cussing and smoking. This'll heat up eventually. I promise.

Song inspiration:

Here we go...

Grace is half asleep in the meeting with her editor. Her daughter, Wendy, was up sick all night and she didn't get much rest. But the editor doesn't really care. He expects her to function at 100% no matter what's going on at home, and usually she can manage, but today is a struggle.

"I need you to do the Elvis Presley book."

Surely, she didn't hear that correctly.

"I'm sorry; you want me to do what?"

"You're going to ghost write the Elvis book. No one else wants it. And there's agreement from the higher ups that he might respond better to a woman." She rolls her eyes. She's always getting assignments that are supposed to be better for a woman. Just once, she wants to be assigned based on her abilities and not what's between her legs.

"No, Frank, I'm not doing it. I need time to finish the novel you originally hired me for. I don't have time to follow a washed-up rock star around."

"That's too bad because I've already told them you're doing it."

"Frank, what the fuck?" She doesn't have the energy to hold back her anger. And she's known Frank long enough to know he knew she'd be mad.

"I'm sorry, kid. They think this'll be a real money maker and somebody has to do it."

She rubs her temples and closes her eyes for a second. It's no use arguing at this point. Not if he's told the big bosses that she'd do it.

"How long is it going to take?"

"He's in Vegas now. They want you to follow him until he goes back to Vegas in January." She glances at the calendar on the wall. It's August 6th.

"You want me to follow him around until January?!"

"It's what they want, sweetheart. You're going to be at their beck and call until this is done."

"Fucking great." She says under her breath. Hopefully, the nanny can travel with her to what she assumes will be Vegas and then Tennessee.

"When do I start?"

"They need you in Vegas this weekend."

"FRANK. IT IS TUESDAY."

"I'm sorry; you know how these kinds of things go." She huffs and gets up out of the chair to walk out.

"Grace, just be careful. He's apparently pretty difficult to work with. Keep your distance." Frank looks at her softly. He's been somewhat of a father figure to her since she started at the company.

"Oh, don't worry." She says as she walks out. "I want nothing to do with Elvis Presley."

******

"You're doing the book, my boy." Colonel Parker says firmly. Elvis slams his Pepsi on the table.

"No, I'm not." He glares at the Colonel.

"This will make it snow for a long time to come, boy."

"I don't care. I'm not telling some stranger about my personal life. It ain't happenin'." They stand in opposition for a while. Elvis knows he will eventually give in because he trusts the Colonel to make the business decisions, but he wants it known that he is not a fan of this idea.

"Can I at least bring the ghost writer in for you to meet? It might change your mind."

"Fine. I'll meet the guy. But this doesn't mean I'll do it." The Colonel walks out to the little lobby where Grace is sitting and asks her to follow him.

Elvis is looking out the window thinking about what it would mean to have someone write about him. There is so much going on in his life right now that he doesn't want the public to know. Telling it all to some stuck up, big city guy in a suit is about the last thing he wants to do.

"Here is the ghost writer." The Colonel says to get him to turn around. He does and has to hide his shock.

She's a woman.

And not just a woman. An attractive woman. Maybe a little old for his taste, and probably married, but it'll be nice to have something to look at through this ridiculous experience. He's thankful for his sunglasses as he runs his eyes over her from top to bottom, taking her in. Her almost-black hair is tied up with a forgotten pen shoved in the top of it and her black-rimmed glasses make him think of a librarian. She'd be more attractive if she'd unbutton the top few buttons on her shirt and reveal more of her olive skin, but he likes the way her brown pencil skirt hugs her hips. He also can't help but notice her calves and ankles, wishing he could see the rest of her legs and feet without the heels she's wearing.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Presley." She extends her hand to him awkwardly.

"Oh, you can call me Elvis, honey." He puts on his normal charm and takes her hand.

"Please don't call me honey. My name is Grace Dubois." He's a little caught off guard by her chill and he pulls his hand back quickly. He's not used to women who don't fall into giggles or tears or screams in his presence.

"Okay, Grace Dubois. So you want to write a book about me?"

"Not particularly. But it's what I've been assigned to do." He suppresses a chuckle. He likes her spunk, but he's still annoyed at the idea of her writing about him.

"Come sit with me. Let's get to know each other before I agree to do anything." He walks over to a little couch and pats the seat beside him. She sits in another chair on the other side of him instead. He sighs and turns to face her. Her attitude was cute at first but now he's getting irritated by her refusal of him.

"If you're gonna be learnin' all the intricate details of my life, I think I'm entitled to some information about you too."

"What do you want to know?" She answers curtly, hoping he won't ask too much.

"Well, are you married?" He doesn't see a ring on her finger, so he has to ask.

"No."

"Divorced?"

"No."

"How old are you?" Now she's getting really annoyed and he can tell.

"I'm 35, but I'm not sure that's pertinent to our task here, Mr. Presley." She's older than she looks. He would've guessed somewhere between 27-30.

"Call me Elvis, please. I'm just tryin' to gather some background information. Wait, you're 35 and you've never been married? What's wrong with you?" Her eyes flash with anger and her cheeks turn red. He realizes he's gone too far, but it's too late now.

"What's wrong with me? I've been focused on my career. You married a girl 9 years younger than you. What's wrong with you?" She asks, crossing the line with him too. He feels his anger rising as well.

"There ain't nothin' wrong with me, honey. You're the one that's been too busy workin' and actin' like a man to find one!" Her mouth drops open. He instantly regrets saying it when he sees that her eyes get glassy and wet.

"I don't think this is going to work out, Mr. Presley." She stands up and turns to walk out.

"Call me Elvis, please." He curses under his breath when he realizes she's headed to the door. "Wait, honey don't leave, I'm sorry."

"Don't call me honey, Elvis!" She turns back to him and hollers as she opens the door. She slams the door and he hangs his head and sighs deeply. The Colonel is not going to be pleased.

******

What an unimaginable ass. Once the door is closed, she stands in the little lobby breathing heavily and trying to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. She always cries when she's mad and it drives her crazy. Colonel Parker comes around the corner when he hears that she's walked out.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. He's an asshole." She knows she shouldn't say it, but she's still pretty worked up. The Colonel sighs and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry. I'll talk to him."

"Do whatever you want. I'm leaving. I'll send a new author as soon as possible." She gathers her purse and heads for the elevator. They've paid for her to stay here at the International, so she heads straight to her room.

She left Wendy at home with the nanny while she's in Vegas for now, so it's just her in the suite. When she gets there, she kicks off her shoes and lays down on the big bed. She finally lets the tears from the afternoon fall, getting makeup all over the pillowcase. But she doesn't care. She just wants to go home.

******

"What did you do to her?" The Colonel hisses.

"Nothing! I just... I asked why she wasn't married."

"My boy, how is that any of your business?"

"If she's gonna ask me a bunch of questions and follow me around, I should get to know about her."

"That is not how this works." Elvis nods his head. He knows he's messed this up. He thinks about her dark eyes and how they were full of tears when she left him. He didn't mean to make her cry.

"I'll fix it. I'll get her back here and do the damn book." The Colonel smiles and claps him on the back.

"I knew you would, my boy!" Elvis drops into the chair she had been sitting in and looks out the window again.

******

When she wakes up the next morning, Grace's plan is to head straight for the airport and get the hell out of this town. Instead, there's a knock on the door. When she opens it, all she sees are flowers. The hotel attendant can barely carry the vase as he stumbles in and sets it on the table in her room. It's an obscenely large arrangement. He laughs.

"Someone has an admirer." She gives him a couple of dollars as a tip and he ducks out of the room. She most certainly does not have an admirer, so she grabs the card quickly and rips it open.

"I'm sorry. Please come back.

- Mr. Presley"

She rolls her eyes. Surely he doesn't think this will work. Then again, it would be easier to just do the job than to try to argue with Frank or the higher ups about why she won't.

And it is the slightest bit charming that he signed it "Mr. Presley" after their conversation yesterday.

Maybe she'll just let him call her honey.

******

There's a soft knock on the door and Elvis gets up and walks to it, opening it slowly. He was hoping it would be her, for his own sake, after he promised the Colonel he would fix it.

He takes her in again as she walks past him. Same hair and glasses, no pen this time, but she has on light blue bell-bottom dress pants and a pinstriped button down with the sleeves rolled up. Again, he wishes she'd undo the top buttons and kick her shoes off, but he's not sure why. She is not his type at all.

"So you decided to come back." He says it playfully, trying not to push her too hard.

"I did. My editor didn't give me a choice." She lies a little, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "Thank you for the flowers."

"You're welcome hon- uh I-I mean, Grace." She actually smiles at him and he's a little stunned, both by the fact that she smiled and how beautiful she is when she does.

"I was rude yesterday. I shouldn't've asked those damn questions."

"It's nothing. Let's just try to start over." He nods and sits down in a chair, gesturing for her to sit in the other one. He knows better than to attempt the couch this time. She sits in the chair and pulls a small notepad from her bag. She reaches up to her hair to grab the pen but it's not there.

"Ah, damn." He suppresses a chuckle at the endearing scene and reaches over to the table and grabs a pen that's sitting there. He hands it to her and she clicks it, ready to take notes. They both sit in silence for a bit.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say here." He opens his hands awkwardly like he has nothing to offer.

"Well, start with telling me why you want to have this book written."

"I don't."

"Okay. Well, what are you trying to say with the book? What message do you want to send?"

"No message. I don't want the damn thing written at all." She sighs and puts the pen down, looking up at him.

"Then what are we doing here, Elvis?"

"Hey! You called me Elvis." He smiles warmly, and for the first time, she notices that he's actually quite handsome. She shakes her head a little and tries to refocus.

"I was brought here to write some kind of book about you. I doubt they're going to let me leave until I do. So you're going to have to tell me what you want it to say." He turns and looks out the window, not sure what to do. He knows he's going to have to tell her something, he's just not sure what. Should he talk about Vegas? Priscilla? The international tour that might never happen?

She's surprised by how quiet he is when it comes time to talk about himself. She figured he was arrogant enough to have no trouble gushing about how great he is. But this is something different. He seems almost shy.

"How about this: start at the beginning. Just tell it to me like a story and I'll ask questions when I need clarification."

"At the beginning? You want to know about all that?"

"I'm not a journalist, Elvis. I'm not here to print your dirty secrets in as few words as possible. I'm an author. I want to tell your whole story in a way that lets people know you the way you want to be known."

He searches her face for evidence of manipulation or mockery and finds only sincerity. That's something he's not used to in the slightest.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"You obviously don't like me. Why do you care what story I tell?" This is a deeper conversation than she expected from a washed-up rock star.

"Because I'm an artist, Elvis. When you do a show, even one you don't necessarily want to do, you do it well don't you?" He nods.

"I know what you're sayin'." There's a strange moment of connection and understanding between the two of them, maybe even mutual respect.

He takes his sunglasses off and pulls a cigarillo out of his pocket.

"Is this going to bother you?" He asks as he lights it.

"Not as long as this doesn't bother you." She takes a cigarette out of her purse and leans forward for him to light it. Then, she picks up the pen to take notes again.

"I recorded my first song for personal use. I never intended to release anything..."

******

Stay tuned for chapter 2!

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Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @ashtag6887 @aliypop @your-nanas-house

Want to be tagged for this series? Let me know!

[writer-in-theory]

Honeymoon At First Sight (Spencer Reid x Reader)

request: Blurb request: there's only one room available at the hotel — the wedding suite — and it's couples only. mutual pining, either friends to lovers or enemies to lovers, hotel mixup during a case, smut(???) idk honestly just let your mind wonder free I guarantee I will love whatever you come up with. summary: the bau calls in a consultant, and spencer tries to play it cool when they have to share a honeymoon suite together. category: fluff, smut pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader content warnings: MINORS DNI, smut, lust at first sight, fingering, safe penetrative sex word count: 2.8k a/n: ahh, here we are!! this is only my second attempt at smut, so hopefully, it turned out okay! and an absolute huge thank you to @reidsbookclub for the lovely request. grecy, i love the requests you send me and apologies once again that your blurb request ended up a full oneshot, oops. anyway, i’d love to hear what y’all think of this!

masterlist

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It was impossible not to know about the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.

Though you knew the team existed previously, it was the solving of the zodiac killer copycat case that sealed their reputation in your mind. They were absolutely brilliant—you needed to work with them, no matter what.

The opportunity presented itself not long after when an SSA Jareau sent your boss a request that you get paid time off to consult for her team. It was easy to arrange for your TAs to take over any lectures you’d miss, and before you knew it you were on the next flight out to Chicago.

In truth, you were terrified. After so much time spent learning about what this team does and how they do it, you were finally getting the chance to meet them in person. It felt a little like meeting your heroes, though you were sure they wouldn’t want to hear such a thing from someone who was meant to be a professional expert. So you allowed yourself to bounce your leg and grin on the flight, only calming down when the wheels touched earth once more.

Everything was going perfectly until you reached the hotel for the night, where Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner was waiting for you in the lobby.

“Dr. L/N?” he clarified as you approached, taking your bag from you once you nodded.

“Please, just Y/N,” you told him, knowing immediately why the team was so successful simply by the looks of this man. Aaron Hotchner exuded an aura of pure leadership—the kind developed only by years of trial and error. “It’s an honor to be working with you and your team, Sir.”

“Hotch is fine,” he corrected you back, pulling a smile from you at the familiarity of it all. “Thank you for meeting us at such short notice. I came to talk to you about an issue we had booking the hotel rooms for this case.”

That was never good. Was there not a room left for you? Would you be sleeping on the floor for however long it took to solve this case, or would they sooner send you right back home? After all, you weren’t on the team—in all sense of the word, you were disposable.

“Whatever it is, I can handle it,” you answered, wanting Hotch to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were just as strong as his team.

“The only room we could book on such short notice was the honeymoon suite,” Hotch explained, causing your hands to begin trembling. “We could only secure it if there was a couple staying there. Of course, nothing is expected of you but��”

“—from now until the end of the case I’ll be fake married to one of your agents.”

“Exactly. If you’re not comfortable, we can work it out. We’ve volunteered Dr. Spencer Reid from our team, he’s about your age and—”

“—easily the most brilliant man to walk this earth right now,” you finished, blushing as Hotch simply raised his eyebrows at you. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just...I’ve read Dr. Reid’s theses, all three of them. In short, I’ll do it. Anything to help out the case, right?”

That was how you ended up standing outside the door with the little metal heart on the front, bags still sitting where Hotch had left them. On the other side of the door would be your fake husband for the next few days, and while you wouldn’t say there was fear, you were nervous about what Spencer Reid would be like.

Working in academia, you’d seen the best and worst of people. There were those who used their brilliance to further the world, and there were those who only wanted to make a name for themselves, willing to tear down anyone who remotely stood in their way. Even the kindness of people at the start can quickly morph into monsters you hardly recognized, all because they felt threatened by you.

When the door opened, a shocked shout emitted from the room. You’d caught Dr. Spencer Reid in the middle of changing—luckily his pajama pants were already on, but his t-shirt was tossed across the room in his shock, leaving him standing shirtless in the middle of the room.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry!” you shrieked, one hand flying up to shield your view of him. “I didn’t think—I mean, I considered the possibility but the chances of it happening were so low that I t—I can’t believe this is your first impression of me I swear this doesn’t happen often.”

Your rambles were cut off when you bent to retrieve his shirt for him, one hand still covering your vision. His hand brushed yours, easily resting on top to cover your entire hand. Both of you gasped, hands flying back and letting the shirt drop to the ground once more.

“No, I’m sorry. I knew you were getting here soon but I thought I had time to change. I should’ve waited, I’m sorry,” Spencer apologized, speaking nearly as rushed as you had. “You can, uh, you can look. I mean, I mean my shirt’s back on.”

“Oh, good,” you breathed. “Wait no, that’s not what I meant. I’m sure you look very good without a shirt on. You do look good, very good actually—that’s not the point. Um, can we start over?”

Spencer’s laugh was beautiful. It was light, maybe a hint of embarrassment at your words, but free. It was what prompted you to drop your hand, still crouched to the ground with Spencer’s face close enough to steal your breath away. His hazel eyes shone bright, twinkling with the nervous smile playing on his lips. It felt like a crime that the photos of him used in conjunction with his papers were so outdated—showing the adorably sweet boy he’d once been but completely missing the hardened version of him now, with a jawline that could cut glass and curls sitting perfectly messy on his head.

“Hi, I’m Spencer Reid,” he spoke, voice barely over a whisper.

“I’m Y/N L/N,” you introduced, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“You published a paper on an early detection-intervention system for schizophrenia.”

There was something special about someone you respect knowing about your work. You’d read his papers, you’d even spoken about one in a lecture last year. You’d never admit it to the man in front of you, but he was a large part of the reason you were so ecstatic to be working with the BAU.

“I did, that was my dissertation,” you answered, “I’m still researching and fine-tuning it of course, but that paper is something I’m really proud of. I read your papers, too. I found your thesis on cluster-weighted modeling and geometric regression to be particularly useful in my own research.”

“You read my work?”

“Of course I did,” you answered, raising a brow at Spencer’s pure shock. “I don’t know about here in the fancy FBI world but in academia, you’re something of a legend.”

“Is this one of those times where you’re joking and I don’t pick up on it?”

“Are you kidding? I think half my colleagues are hoping you’ll retire early and become a professor just so they can talk to you about your work.”

“What about you?” Spencer asked, his tone taking on a bit more of a playful tone.

There was something about the way he looked at you—those honeydew eyes twinkling with the adventure you would soon be taking, lips perked up in the corner to reveal the beginnings of an adorable dimple. The two of you had settled on the ground, his large hand inches from your knee—a fact you were far too aware of now, eyes glancing down and tongue darting out to wet your lips at the observation.

“I’d like to do more than just pick your brain, Dr. Reid.” If he was ready, then to hell with it, so were you.

“Show me?” Spencer challenged, eyes fully focused on your lips now. “You are my wife for the rest of the week, after all.”

“We should make our story believable then,” you returned, moving to sit in his lap, legs straddling either side of his hips. As your hands came to rest on either side of his face, Spencer’s found your hips, trailing down the outside of your thighs.

Never before had you felt this strongly about another person so soon, but all you knew now was that you needed Spencer, now. So you tugged him closer and pressed your lips to his, hands moving to his hair and tugging on the short strands as he deepened the kiss. It was like magic—the rest of the world falling away around you until it was just this room, just you and Spencer and all the passion that had arisen in the short time you’d spent together. Maybe you couldn’t call it love at first sight, but damn did it feel right.

Spencer wasted no time, hands tugging your shirt off a little awkwardly, it catching on your hands on the way off.

“It’s been a while,” Spencer explained, barely moving his lips off of yours to do so, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” you answered, hands moving from his hair to help him where his own fumbled at the latch of your bra. “You’re perfect, this is perfect.”

“You’re beautiful,” Spencer breathed, cheeks a brilliant shade of red and eyes focused on your bare chest. There were few things in the world you could be absolutely sure of, but in that moment you knew Spencer’s hands were made to touch you. He cupped your breasts in them, thumbs brushing over your nipples until your chest arched into his touch and a sharp gasp of pleasure escaped your lips.

“Spencer, please,” you gasped, wondering if he’d stolen the air from your lungs permanently.

“We should move to the bed,” he spoke, words shaky as you began kissing and nipping at his neck, hoping there’d be some proof of tonight left there in the morning.

“No, right here,” you murmured against his skin, playfully biting at his neck when he began to protest.

“You’ll get a friction burn,” he tried to tell you, but there was nothing he could say to conquer the ache growing in you.

“Spencer, I need you right now. I need you, please,” you moaned as his hands continued their exploration of your body, lifting your hips off of him so he could slide your pants off of you.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” Spencer practically cooed, lifting you by the thighs to lay you on the ground and moving over you, hands on either thigh to keep them parted. “I’m yours.”

“Fuck,” you hissed, thighs clenching as Spencer ran his fingers over your center, gathering the evidence of your arousal on them before lapping it up.

“You taste so good, sweet girl,” he told you, and those words were enough for another wave of pleasure to flow through you, lighting every nerve of your body on fire. It was far too easy to imagine him, face between your legs until you’d lost count of how many times you’d cum before bringing you in for a kiss so you could taste yourself too.

This time, Spencer moved so he could give attention to your breasts too. Shocking you all at once, he pressed two fingers inside you and took one nipple between his lips, sucking and licking until you were sure you’d forget everything but his name. Your own hand came up to the other, squeezing and tugging on your breast until you were a quivering mess beneath him, back arched and hips moving in time with his fingers as if to beg for more, always more.

“Spencer, please,” you moaned, and if it were any other time you might’ve smacked him upside the head for the smirk you could feel against your chest. “God, Spencer, please. Please fuck me.”

You didn’t notice when he shed his pants, nor when he pulled on the condom. It was only when you could feel him pressing at your entrance that your eyes flashed open, hands moving to hold his where they rested against your hips.

“Are you sure you want this?” Spencer asked, face flashing with a moment of vulnerability. “We can stop now, we can lay in bed if you’d rather.”

“I’m yours. Please, take me, Doctor.”

You weren’t sure if it was the way your hips were already moving against him or the words slipping across your reddened swollen lips, but Spencer’s eyes darkened with pure lust. He was careful as he pressed into you, eyes never looking away from yours. Just as his hands were meant perfectly for you, you were sure you were made for his cock.

Everything was gentle with Spencer, even this. Even as he moved in and out of you, his lips were against your skin—it felt like he was everywhere all at once. Your legs wrapped around the small of his back, pushing him impossibly further into you and eliciting a gasp from both of you.

“You’re perfect, sweet girl,” Spencer cooed into your ear as your hands moved from his hair to scratch along his back. You were sure there would be red marks when you were done, further evidence of how you two fit so perfectly together. “You’re everything I need.”

When your release finally came, you were sure you blacked out for a second. Your hands dug into the skin of Spencer’s back, an absolutely sinful moan slipping from you as your thighs quivered against him. The new tightness of you must have been enough to push Spencer over the edge too, because seconds later he was pushing deep into you and groaning, fingers curling against you.

It was quiet between you two after—the silence only punctuated by both of you trying to catch your breath. In those first moments after, the world was reduced down to simply you and Spencer, looking at each other and wondering how you could have gotten so lucky.

It was Spencer who moved first—discarding the used condom and gathering you up to deposit you into the large hotel bed. The rose petals strewn about the comforter ended up discarded along the floor you’d just laid on, finding their home just as you snuggled closely to Spencer. His arms curled around you, creating a protective barrier between you and the rest of the world.

“I think that was pretty convincing,” you teased after the comfortable silence came to an end. “I’ll be your fake wife any day if that’s what happens.”

Spencer didn’t answer. After a few more moments of complete quiet, you lifted your head off of his chest, hand pausing its careful patterns along his heated skin. There was a pensive look in his eyes, eyebrows crooked downward and nose just beginning to scrunch as he thought. Just as your lips were parting to ask if you’d offended him, Spencer spoke.

“How would you feel about being my real girlfriend?”

If someone had told you on the flight here that you’d end up dating Dr. Spencer Reid, you would’ve laughed in their face. It didn’t seem plausible, to show up here and make such an impression that he wanted to keep you around for the foreseeable future. Still, it was impossible to deny the connection you felt with him, the deep fluttering in your chest when you looked at him. If you felt so strongly now, how would you feel when you truly got to know him?

“When this is all over, take me on a date, Dr. Reid,” you told him, knowing there were far too many words that needed to be said between you. For now, all you wanted was to stay safe in the bubble he’d created just for you. The two of you would stay entangled with each other for the rest of the night, pressed against each other despite the room in the bed.

The next morning, you’d be introduced to the team and none of them would miss the way Spencer’s eyes brightened as he showed you off. Neither of you said a word about what transpired the night before, but then again, no one needed to.

Everyone saw the way you two were meant for each other, perfectly constructed to be two halves of a beautiful work of art.

•────���⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

NSFW TAGLIST

@samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthewgraygublerlover @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @safespacespence @shemarmooresfedora @reidsbookclub @alexontheinternet @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @alexxavicry @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @idfvc @lil-stark @lady-anon-x @sweetandsunny @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @nichmeddar @givemeth @spencerreidat3am @pastelbabygirl19

taglist link: here

[u-ntitled-s-eries]

Subway Bosses + Detective!Reader General Headcanons - Part 2

While not nearly as common as you working in the Gear Station, there have been a handful of times where someone from the Gear Station will come to the police station. It’s almost always because you’re too busy drowning in paperwork to investigate the subway. The first time Ingo and Emmet visited the police station, they had half of the department tripping over themselves, trying to figure out why two of the city’s hand-picked trainers were standing in the middle of their overcrowded, understaffed lobby. It was only when an officer came to your desk and muttered, “I think you have some visitors,” that you finally headed down to the waiting area. When you got there, a small group of officers and civilians alike had gathered around Ingo and Emmet; you’re pretty sure even some of the folks being walked away in cuffs slowed their gait upon catching a glimpse through the windows.

“Detective! It’s such a pleasure to see you again!” Ingo shouted. Emmet all but jumped from his seat and the two cut through the crowd to greet you, “I managed to acquire those files you requested. Hopefully this is the missing link in solving the case.” You could feel everyone’s eyes focused on you. After that, you suggested they send depot agents to deliver any information unless it was an absolute emergency. But, as a sign of goodwill, you gave Ingo and Emmet an impromptu tour of the police station and introduced them to your fellow officers, including the captain.

Even though the Pokemon on your team can stand their ground in a battle, they’re not so much trained to be fighters as much as they are to be companions. This is something you had to immediately explain to Emmet when you suggested introducing him and Ingo to your Pokemon, and he immediately insisted on battling. You’ve seen these two on their respective lines; if you were to face even one of them, your Pokemon would be decimated.

“Ingo, Emmet, this is my team. Everyone, this is Ingo and Emmet.” Please get along. Please get along. Please get along. Ever the faithful companion, Herdier was the first to follow your example and approach Ingo and Emmet. Watchog and Gothita silently watched the exchange with unblinking eyes. The former with trepidation, and the latter with curiosity. But one friendly bark, and that was enough to have the rest happily approach Ingo and Emmet. If Herdier likes them, they can’t be all that bad. “Most of your Pokemon are normal types? There are not a lot of possible combinations among them. How boring.” “Emmet! I’m so sorry about that; rest assured, it’s a pleasure to meet your team. And I have no doubt in my mind that you and your Pokemon would make for a worthy opponent.” “To be fair,” you started, “These guys are more at home at a crime scene than a battlefield.” “Really? How so?” “Well for one, these guys are excellent scouts. Braviary is my eye in the sky, and Watchog’s night vision and bioluminescence are indispensable when processing a scene. Gothia helps me go over the photographs and evidence, and sometimes she even watches the interviews; if she starts to focus on something, it’s definitely worth looking into. Oh! And Herdier here is basically my second-in-command…” You continued to talk at great length, going into exquisite detail about each teammate - personality, synergy with each other, how their moves can be used outside combat. It was only when you caught Braviary yawning that you paused mid-tangent and realized everyone, both your Pokemon and the twins, were just staring at you. “So… yeah. They’re pretty cool.”

Personal outings for the three of you are a rare occurrence. Mainly because your hectic schedules make it a struggle to leave work early or guarantee a day off, and that’s only looking at one individual person; finding a block of time where all three of you aren’t busy is nigh on impossible. But sooner or later the stars align and there are no more trainers to fight, no paperwork to fill out, and no more leads to chase down. You’re left with nothing but the evening. When that happens, you often find little ways to relax and let the time pass by. A nice spot at the park to let the Pokemon run and play, a round of drinks while the three of you talk about whatever, or maybe that movie they’ve wanted to see is playing tonight. Between the three of you, there’s been more than enough hustle and bustle for the day; sometimes you just need to take it easy for an hour or two.

The Gear Station in and of itself is quite a safe place, with the trains and tunnels being more of a means for criminals to get around quickly, but there have been a few instances of petty crime and public disturbances. A quick flash of your badge would be enough to make any pickpocket or creep go ill and start begging like their life depends on it, but you tend to let the depot agents handle it; they have the Gear Station, and you have the police station. The only times you force yourself into a situation is if a depot agent isn’t around (which is a rare sight) and if someone’s safety is at risk (which is an even rarer sight).

One morning, you were in the police station’s breakroom; you had just gotten in, dropped your bag on your desk, and now you needed a cup of coffee. As you waited for the pot to finish brewing, a high shrill shriek pierced the air and had you sprinting out the door. The first thing you noticed was the shaking officer standing on his chair, eyes frantically scanning the floor like it would fall apart under him at any moment. The second thing you noticed was your bag, knocked over on its side and… moving? With one hand on a Pokeball, you slowly approached it and opened it up.

7:39 - Detective: Looks like one of the Joltiks hitched a ride yesterday. Little guy decided to stowaway in my bag. Almost scared Collins to death. 7:39 - Emmet: Do you need help? 7:47 - Detective: Nah, I’ve got him.

You enjoy watching Pokemon battles with Ingo and Emmet, and predicting who will win. Ingo tends to focus on how the trainers command their Pokemon and what moves they pick, while Emmet can be heard muttering about the Pokemon’s strengths, weaknesses, and abilities. As for you, you study the trainers; how they carry themselves in the heat of battle, and all the little tics that let you catch a glimpse of the person. And even though your expertise in Pokemon battles is a drop in the bucket compared to Ingo and Emmet, you’ve started to pick up a few tips and tricks just from listening to them talk. More often than not, your deductions have been correct.

You’ll never forget the first time you came to the Gear Station after sustaining a work-related injury. It was a minor altercation with a suspect you were delivering a warrant to. The worst you suffered was some bruising and a bloody nose, but Ingo and Emmet acted like you’d been hit by a truck. For the rest of the day, they insisted you stay in their office and take it easy, while they help in any and every way they can. Ingo would check on you with a frequency that made you wonder if he canceled the Single Line battles. Do you need something to eat? Perhaps a drink? You’re not in any pain, right? And Emmet’s no better. He spent a good twenty minutes equally chastising you for not keeping yourself safe, while also demanding to know who the assailant was. For the safety of everyone involved, you didn’t tell him. They refused to let you so much as get up from the sofa to stretch your legs, and only let you out of their sight when a depot agent reminded them that there was a trainer on the Multi Line. But even then, you’d get a text every thirty minutes asking how you were feeling. Perhaps you should avoid the Gear Station the next time something similar occurs. Or would that just make them worry even more?

I think the next thing I'll write will be a short fic.

[bxcketbarnes]

Love in the Workplace

fPairing: Gardener!Bucky Barnes x Receptionist!Reader

Words: 4900+

Author's Note: I thought of this idea while staying at our hotel in California and it's the cutest fucking thing in the world. I love this. I hope you guys enjoy it as well! Let me know your thoughts!

"Sarah, I don't need this at seven in the morning," you tell your friend while adjusting your bag on your shoulder. You slam your car door shut, your eyes looking towards the entrance of the hotel.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of the new gardener. "What is it?" Sarah asks you and you clear your throat before tearing your gaze from the man.

"Uh, nothing. I finally see the gardener that the hotel hired," you mention while walking closer to the place. "I gotta go."

Sarah bids you goodbye after telling you to let her know if something happens between the two of you. You shove your phone into your pocket and walk past him, your eyes glancing over his shirtless chest.

His blue eyes meet yours and you give him a shy smile with a wave. "G'Morning," he greets.

"Morning. First day?" You ask the man and a laugh leaves his lips.

"That noticeable?"

You bring your bottom lip between your teeth and shake your head. "Not at all. Just the first time I've seen you. I usually work every morning," you laugh and he smiles down at you.

"I'm Bucky," the brunette introduces and holds out his metal hand. You eye it carefully before smiling up at him. "Sorry, if my arm makes you uncomfortable."

"Oh, no, no. It's a real cool looking arm," you reassure him and Bucky lets out a chuckle.

His blue eyes look down at his vibranium arm after you let go, bringing your hand back down by your side. "Well, thank you. That's the first time I've heard that," Bucky mentions and you bite the inside of your cheek. "Hey, do these hydrangeas look alright?"

You adjust the bag on your shoulder and walk closer to him, inspecting the plants he planted. "They look really good. I love the colors," you tell him, and Bucky smiles while nodding his head.

"Good. Wanna make a good first impression," he explains and you chuckle, laying a hand on his metal arm.

"I'm pretty sure you've already made one if they hired you. The bosses are strict about hiring people."

Bucky runs a hand through his sweaty hair, your eyes raking down his shirtless body. God, he's attractive. You turn your head towards the front door of the hotel before glancing down at your watch, seeing it was almost eight in the morning.

"Well, I would love to stay and chat longer, Buck, but I've got to start my day," you mention and start to walk away from him. "I'll see you around."

The blue-eyed man nods his head and waves slightly. "See you around, doll."

Steve's head picks up when you step through the lobby doors and you smile softly at him. "Morning, Steve," you greet while stepping behind the receptionist desk. "Busy night?"

The blonde shakes his head and stands up from his chair, allowing you to sit down in it. "Not at all. It was extremely dead," Steve laughs and runs a hand through his hair.

You're about to say something when Bucky walks into the building, your eyes dancing over towards him. "Hey, Steve," he greets before his blue eyes meet yours. "Y/N."

A small blush covers your cheeks and you provide a small wave before sitting in the seat. Steve looks down at you, a smirk coming to his lips and you raise a finger before he can say anything.

"Hush!" You laugh and Steve joins in, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I didn't even say anything!" He laughs and you look up at him, narrowing your eyes playfully.

"No, but the smirk on your lips said everything."

Steve gathers his stuff while shaking his head as you sign into the computer. A customer walks up to the counter and you greet them happily as the blonde leans in towards your ear.

"Bucky's a great guy and single if you're interested," he informs you while you're looking up the woman's information, a blush covering your cheek.

You swat at him and another laugh leaves your lips. "Get out of here!" Steve chuckles and raises his hands in defense before leaving the hotel lobby. "I'm so sorry about that."

The woman in front of you waves her hand before mumbling, "it's alright."

"Gotta have fun on the job, am I right?" She grins and you nod your head in agreement, a smile coming to your lips.

-

Two Months Later...

"Tony, I really appreciate you allowing me to stay here until my gas leak gets fixed," you mention to your manager as the man fixes up a room key for you.

The older man smiles down at you and rests a hand on your shoulder. "Kid, I'd do anything for you. You've been with this hotel for years and you're so kind. I couldn't even bring myself to say no," he chuckles and you smile up at him.

"You guys are like my family and I appreciate everything you've done for me," you tell him while Tony hands you the key.

Tony ruffles your hair a bit before walking back towards his office. "Oh, I put you next to Barnes in case you have questions. Plus, I figured you enjoy a familiar face," he winks and you let out a groan.

Of course, he put me next to Bucky. Smug bastard. You gently bite your lip while heading towards the elevator, pressing the button to call it. "Way to be so obvious about your feelings, Y/N," you say to yourself with a sigh, running a hand through your hair.

"Are you talking about your crush on Bucky?" A familiar voice asks you and you jump, placing a hand on your chest before glancing to your left.

Steve and Natasha stand in the archway where the two elevators sit, smirks on both of their lips. "Jesus, you two," you groan as they walk over to you. "What are you doing here?"

Nat ruffles her hair a bit before glancing towards Steve. "Steve and I are going on a date. I'm picking him up," she mentions and a gasp leaves your lips.

"No fucking way?!" Your eyes dance between the two of them and Steve's cheeks blush a bit. "That's incredible. I've only been shipping it for almost six months."

The three of you let out a chuckle before Steve pipes up. "Yeah, well, when are you going to ask out Bucky?"

The laughter dies on your lips and you bring your lip between your teeth. "Shut up," you scoff while rolling your eyes. "I'm not going to ask him out because he doesn't feel that way about me."

Both Steve and Natasha give you a look before the redhead rubs her hands along her face. "Sweetheart, that boy is crushing on you just as hard as you are for him," she mentions and your cheeks flush.

"Go enjoy your date," you tell them before pressing the button to the elevator once more.

The door opens immediately and you step inside, giving your friends one last grin. You press the floor your room is on and watch the elevator doors close before letting out a deep breath.

You adjust your grip on your suitcase and pile out of the elevator when it opens back up. You run into someone, muttering out a quick apology before glancing up at the person. Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky stands in front of you, his bare torso staring you in the face.

"Bucky," you breathe out and the blue-eyed man glances down at you, "h-hi."

"Hey, doll," Bucky smiles and the two of you stand in the middle of the elevator door.

You swallow thickly as your eyes flicker from his eyes to his chest. "S-Sorry, let me just-" you cut yourself off and move around him, your shoulder brushing against his arm.

"Are you staying here?" The man questions and you look down towards your luggage before nodding your head.

"I, uh, yeah. My apartment has a gas leak, so Tony's letting me stay here for a week or so."

Bucky wets his lips and adjusts the towel in his hands. "I'm going down to the pool for a little bit… would you- would you want to join me?" He asks and your heart beats quickly in your chest.

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'll be down in about five minutes," you stutter and give the man a shy smile.

He bites his lip for a few seconds before standing in the elevator, keeping his eyes on you. "Great. I'll see you in a few," Bucky says while the elevator doors shut.

"Yeah…" you trail off as your cheeks blush heavily.

You continue making your way to your hotel room, silently hyping yourself up with each step. You place the keycard into the slot before pushing your way into the room. You set your suitcase onto the bed and open it before grabbing your bikini.

After changing into your swimsuit, you grab a towel from the bathroom along with your keycard before making your way back downstairs. You chew on your bottom lip while walking towards the pool area, seeing Bucky sitting in the hot tub.

You insert your key and open the gate, giving the blue-eyed man a small wave. You set your stuff down beside his before heading towards him. You adjust your red top as Bucky's eyes look you up and down.

"Cute top," he mumbles while draping his arms across the edge of the spa.

"Thank you," you chuckle shyly and sits down across from him. "So, how come you're staying here?"

Bucky lets out a laugh and moves his hands through the bubbly water before rubbing his face. "Well, my ex broke up with me a week ago and I happened to be living in her apartment. Tony let me stay here until I can get my own place," he explains and you frown slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you apologize and Bucky shakes his head, mumbling that it was alright. "But, it was nice of Tony to let you stay here until you're on your feet."

"Yeah, it was. Which room are you in?"

A blush dusts your cheeks and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm next door to you. Tony thought it'd be nice to have a familiar face beside me," you laugh awkwardly while looking away from him.

Bucky smirks at you while wiggling his eyebrows. "This'll be fun. We'll be great neighbors," he grins and you roll your eyes playfully while standing up from your seat.

"Shut up," you tell him with a laugh and Bucky watches you step out of the hot tub.

You feel his eyes on you as you walk closer to the steps of the pool, making eye contact with him as you descend into the cool water. Bucky suddenly gets up and makes his way into the pool, jumping in immediately and you release a quiet squeal.

Bucky swims up to you and you take a couple of steps back as he resurfaces. "Well, that was quite rude," you joke and the man suddenly shakes his head, rouge water droplets hitting you. "Bucky! That's cold!"

He hums in response and splashes you playfully. "Oh, come on, it's warm!"

"It's not!" You squeal some more and take a couple of more steps back. Bucky walks closer to you, reaching his hands out before capturing you in his grasp.

His arms wrap around your waist and Bucky holes you against his chest while carrying you into the deeper area of the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck, your chest pressed against the man's face.

"Well, I can die happy now," Bucky jokes and you smack the back of his head, rolling your eyes at him again.

"You're such a guy," you laugh, attempting to get out of his grasp. "Can you put me down now?"

The blue-eyed man looks up at you through his lashes, your breath hitching in his throat as the pool lights shine on his face. "I quite like you like this," he whispers, and your heart pounds against your chest, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Bucky brings a hand to your face and his fingers graze against your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut while resting your forehead against his. He moves his fingers into your hair, gripping softly while slowly reducing the distance between your lips.

Your lips brush against his when a loud voice calls out to both of you. "Hey! The pool's closed!"

The brunette sighs, feeling his breath fanning your lips before pulling away from you. "Sam, it's just us!" Bucky yells and you glance towards the gate to see the man standing on the other side of it.

"Oh, hey guys!" Sam greets with a smile before opening the gate to the pool. "What are you two doin' out here so late?"

"Just hanging out," you tell him while prying yourself out of Bucky’s grasp. "I need to get going anyway. G'Night, Buck."

"Goodnight, Y/N," he mumbles and watches you walk out of the pool. Sam bids you goodnight as you gather your things before heading into the hotel. "Dude, what the fuck!?"

Bucky moves to smack Sam, causing the younger guy to wince away from him. "What?! She said you guys were hanging out! You're too chickenshit to do anything anyway!"

A sigh leaves his lips and Bucky runs a hand over his face. "Well, I'll have you know that we were just about to kiss," he explains while pushing himself out of the water.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, dude," Sam apologizes and Bucky shakes his head. "Go get her! Don't let me stop you."

The brunette wets his lips before nodding his head, quickly gathering his things before running inside. Bucky finds himself standing outside of her door, bringing his hand up to the wooden structure before knocking loud enough for her to hear.

"Y/N? Y/N?" Bucky calls out and rests his forehead against the door. "Goddamn it."

The door in front of him suddenly opens and Bucky catches himself before falling into your room. "Bucky?" You laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder while your other hand keeps the towel wrapped around you. "What are you doing here?"

His blue eyes widen at the sight of you, feeling his cheeks flush. "I, uh-" he cuts himself off as Bucky begins to rub the back of his neck. "I just wanna say sorry… for uh, what happened in the pool."

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion while leaning against the doorframe. "For what?" You ask him and Bucky's Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

"Just… uh, just in case I made you uncomfortable," Bucky explains and you chuckle softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You didn't make me uncomfortable, Bucky," you giggle and the man lets out a small sigh, nodding his head in reply.

You bite your lip gently as you watch the man in front of you, tapping your fingers against the frame. "Good, good. I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing," he mentions and you nod once before Bucky walks away from you.

"Goodnight, Bucky!" You call out to him, seeing the man give you a small wave before he walks into his hotel room.

Bucky rests his head against the door, a sigh leaving his lips while he quietly curses. He runs his metal hand through his hair when his phone begins to vibrate. Sam's name is flashed across the screen and the man picks it up before answering immediately.

"So?! How'd it go?!" Sam asks and Bucky groans in response, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I- I panicked," he mentions and Sam laughs loudly. "Shut up, Sam."

It takes a minute before Sam finally stops laughing. "I told you that you're too chickenshit, Buck," he reminds Bucky and the blue-eyed man rolls his eyes.

"You know… I hate you," Bucky says before hanging up the phone, tossing it beside him.

-

"So, how did last night go?" Steve suddenly asks you. Natasha smacks his chest and the man lets out a deep yelp. "What?! We were both wondering!"

You look from Steve to Natasha, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you step behind the reception desk. "It was good? I didn't do much so I don't know why you two are asking," you mention while stuffing your work bag in the little compartment.

"Well, we happen to have watched the camera footage of you and Buck in the pool," Natasha explains and your cheeks blush, a groan leaving your lips.

"Oh, fuck off. Of course, that's why y'all are nosy," you sigh while rolling your eyes. "Nothing happened."

Steve gives you a look and you cross your arms over your chest. "Come on. You have to be lying," he argues.

A laugh leaves your lips and you lean back in your chair before crossing your legs over one another. "It's the truth. If Sam didn't interrupt then something might've happened," you smirk and the two run a hand over their faces.

"Fucking Sam," Natasha mutters and leans down to press a kiss on Steve's cheek. "I have to go, but I'll see you later."

You smile at the two, finding them to be extremely adorable together. "I take it that the date went well?" You chuckle and Steve nods his head grazing his fingers along Natasha's hip.

"Very well, thank you," Nat grins and places a hand on your shoulder before walking around the desk. "Now it's your turn. Go after Barnes."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," you laugh while shooing the woman away. The phone on your desk begins to ring and you pick it up. "Hello, how can I help?"

You can hear a bunch of kids yelling in the background before a woman starts talking. "Hi, yes, I would like to file a complaint on your gardener," she says and your lips part slightly, allowing her to continue, "he's standing outside our window in nothing but a pair of shorts and we don't need our children seeing that."

"I totally understand, ma'am," you mumble while rolling your eyes at how ridiculous she sounds. "Here's what I'll do. I'll head out and politely ask him to put his shirt on, okay?"

"I would love that. Thank you so much," the woman states, not giving you a chance to say anything else before hanging up the phone.

You blink a few times, thinking about the interaction that just happened. "What in the fuck?" You ask yourself out loud, Steve humming in response to you. 

"What?"

"I- This woman called and was complaining that Bucky's not wearing a fucking shirt. It's like ninety-five degrees out," you sigh while pushing yourself off of the chair.

Steve lets out a laugh while resting his hand over his chest. You roll your eyes playfully as the blonde practically dies of laughter. "Oh my god, you're serious? What the hell," he breathes out.

"You're telling me. I'll be right back. Gotta tell him to put his shirt on," you inform him while starting to walk out the hotel doors.

You tuck a strand behind your ear as you make your way around the building, looking for Bucky. You round the corner and see him planting some flowers, the man is sitting on his knees while wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Hey, Buck," you greet him and he whips his head towards you, a smile coming to his lips.

"Hiya, doll. What do I owe the pleasure?" Bucky laughs and you glance up to see the woman who called the front desk staring at the two of you.

Bucky looks up at you again after not hearing anything, seeing your eyes looking above you. "Uhm, she called the front desk and complained about you working without a shirt on," you explain to him.

"You're joking?" He asks and you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's fucking hot out here. Does she expect me to wear a shirt?"

"Well, I told her I would come out here and politely ask you to put it on," you sigh and Bucky cranes his neck, his own sigh leaving his lips. "Just keep it on until you leave this area, please? I really don't want to have to file a complaint about this. She's just being ridiculous."

"Okay, I will," Bucky mentions while grabbing the shirt that sits on the sidewalk, throwing it over his head. You give him a small smile and pat his chest before starting to walk back towards the entrance. "Hey, Y/N?"

You stop in your tracks and glance over your shoulder, seeing a smile on the man's lips. "Yeah?" You ask softly and Bucky walks over to you, his blue eyes casting down at you.

"Are… Do you want to do something tonight?" He asks and you can feel your cheeks heat up. "If you're up for it anyway."

A smile comes to your lips as you tangle your fingers, walking closer to him. "I can see if I can free up my schedule," you joke with a playful wink, causing the man to laugh in response.

Bucky wets his lips and rests his hands on his hips before shaking his head. "Well, if it does you know where to find me," he grins.

You hum while pressing your lips together, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest. "I'll see you around, Buck. Stay hydrated."

That night, you're swimming on your back while staring up at the stars, seeing an occasional plane coming in for a landing every so often. The sound of the gate opening captures your attention and you move your head in the direction of the noise.

"Hey, stranger," Bucky grins while setting his towel down beside yours.

A laugh escapes your lips as you swim towards the corner of the pool before leaning your arms on the warm concrete. "Hiya," you smile up at him, watching the blue-eyed God whisk his shirt off.

Bucky walks over to you before lowering himself into the water, splashing you slightly. "You weren't bothered by that woman anymore were you?" He asks you and you raise an eyebrow.

"Buck, I think I should be the one to ask you that," you laugh and the man wets his lips, shrugging his shoulders in response. "But, to answer your question, no."

"That's good. She was definitely a bitch," he mentions and you scoff, nodding your head in agreement.

You press your back against the curved wall, your body facing Bucky's as his large hands brush along your legs. "I don't get her problem. I totally wouldn't mind a very attractive man working outside my window," you tell him, causing Bucky to glance towards you.

"Oh?" He draws out and your cheeks heat up, realizing what you had just said. "So, you think I'm attractive?"

"I-" you cut yourself off as Bucky's hands grip your legs before swiftly pulling you closer to him. You let out a squeal and rest your hands on his shoulders, Bucky guiding your legs so they're wrapped around his waist.

You can feel your heart pounding against your chest as both of your faces are inches apart. You swallow thickly as Bucky looks up at you through his lashes. "Answer the question, doll," he whispers, feeling his fingers glide up the back of your thighs.

You lick your lips before biting it gently, your fingers moving to card through his hair. "I… I might think you're attractive," you tell him softly while adjusting your position on him.

Bucky grins widely and leans against the wall of the pool, fingers inching closer to your ass. "Good news is that I might find you attractive as well," he mutters and your heart flutters.

"You do?" You whisper and Bucky nods his head in response. The blue-eyed man brings his face closer to yours, your breath hitching when your noses brush against one another's.

Butterflies soar around your stomach when his lips connect with yours, your fingers gripping his hair gently. Your free hand rests on his cheek as you kiss him back. Bucky pulls away from you after a minute or so, resting his forehead on yours.

"You're so breathtaking," he whispers before pressing a few more kisses to your lips. You let out a few giggles while Bucky wraps his arms around your waist, twirling you around the pool. "Do you wanna get dinner tomorrow night?"

"Of course I do," you tell him and kiss the tip of his nose. "Do you want to go out or just have dinner in one of our rooms?"

Bucky brings one of his hands to your face, stroking your cheek before pulling you in again. A short moan escapes your lips as he kisses you passionately, your nails digging slightly into his shoulders.

"I want to take you out, doll," he mutters against your lips and your cheeks blush. Bucky trails his lips up your jaw, a shudder running down your spine when he whispers into your ear. "You can get all dressed up and I can bring you to your favorite restaurant."

Your grip on him tightens as he continues to play out your date. You swallow thickly when Bucky's lips move down your neck, nipping at your skin softly. "B-Bucky…" you trail off and the man pulls away from you before looking up at you. "If you keep going I'm not gonna want you to stop."

Bucky pokes his tongue out, wetting his lips before reducing the distance between your faces once again. A loud crash stops the two of you from kissing, both your heads snapping in the direction of the noise.

"Goddamn it, Steve," you hear Natasha scold the tall blonde and you roll your eyes.

Of course. You think to yourself while detaching yourself from Bucky. "Hey, assholes!" You call out with a chuckle and the two of them suddenly stand up, their heads poking over the top of the fence. "Enjoy the show?"

"We did until someone fell over," Nat mumbles as you make your way out of the pool, Bucky following closely behind you.

You wrap your towel around your body, shaking your head at the two of them. "Well, glad you enjoyed the show. If you'll excuse us," you laugh and grab Bucky's hand, leading him away from the pool area.

"Use protection!" Natasha calls out and your cheeks flush, feeling Bucky's fingers lace with yours.

"I'm sorry about them," you apologize while glancing back at the brunette, seeing a stupid grin on his lips.

Bucky shakes his head and catches up to you, dropping your hand before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "It's alright, doll. I know how Steve can be," he chuckles while you wrap your arm around his waist.

-

A knock on your door wakes you up, a small groan leaving your lips as the sun shines directly into your room. You shield your eyes before looking around the room, seeing the television still on from last night.

"Y/N? Are you awake?" Sam's voice comes through the door and you rub your eyes while throwing the blankets off of you.

You quickly grab your sleep shorts off of the floor, pulling them up before making your way towards the door. "What's going on?" You ask in a groggy tone, looking up at the man in front of you.

Sam chuckles and notices the shirt you're wearing. "Do you know where Bucky is?" He asks and you furrow your brows, glancing towards his door and Sam speaks up before you have the chance to. "He's not in there. Already tried."

"I-" you cut yourself off and shake your head, not remembering if he works today or not. "I have no idea."

Your friend smirks down at you and reaches out towards your shirt. "Well, this is Bucky's shirt. Maybe he's in your room?" Sam assumes and your cheeks heat up while your eyes snap down towards your clothes.

You are indeed wearing Bucky's shirt and you desperately try to remember what happened after the two of you left the pool. Your fingers comb through your hair as you glance back into the room.

"Well, look, if you see him just tell him that I'm looking for him, okay?" Sam mentions and you nod your head.

You close the door after Sam walks away and steps back into the bedroom area. Your heart pounds against your chest as you see Bucky sleeping on the left side of your bed.

The blue-eyed man shifts his sleeping position as you crawl onto the bed, gently running your fingers up his spine. "Buck?" You whisper loud enough for him to hear and he lets out a groan in response.

A chuckle leaves your lips as he turns his head towards you, his eyes opening a bit. "Yeah?" He mutters huskily, causing your heart to flutter at the sound.

"What are you still doing here?" You wet your lips as Bucky turns onto his back, his metal hand resting on his stomach.

"I must've fallen asleep," Bucky mentions and runs his flesh hand through his hair. "Sorry about that."

You shake your head and grab his metal hand, playing with his fingers. "It's quite alright, actually," you grin and Bucky does as well, dropping his hand onto your thigh. "It's been a while since I've cuddled with a man."

Bucky hums and drags his thumb across your inner thigh. "Yeah, me too. Well, with a woman… not a man," he snorts and you let out a loud laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

"You're fucking ridiculous," you giggle while shaking your head.

"Yeah, well, you love it," Bucky grins and you softly bite your bottom lip.

"That I do, Bucky, that I do."

-

Taglist: @jessalyn-jpeg​ @queen-of-mischief​ @bumblebet-20​ @thewxntersoldier​

[harleysarchive]

Monegasque Kiss | Charles Leclerc

Fandom: Formula one Warning: My favorite trope, pining after each other and then confess your love. Friends to lovers. 2500 words. I enjoyed writing this a LOT. Pairing: Charles Leclerc x neutral!reader Summary: You and Charles are pining after one another and it ends up with a kiss, with some help from Pierre Gasly

A/N: Once again I’m thanking Screnwriter’s prompts, nr. 10, for sparking my inspiration to write, your prompts are the best! Gif by dams-racing. Honestly, I’m having such a blast writing for Charles and the other drivers, it really inspires me to continue writing.

There were some perks with being friends with formula one drivers. For instance you could go watch them race and kick ass on the tracks. You had known Charles and Pierre since you were younger. You had the fortune to meet them when they raced go kart and you just happened to be in Monaco on vacation with your family when their race was there. You had met them by accident and the three of you had stayed in touch ever since that day. Even though you couldn’t meet them as much as you wanted, you were happy to accompany them on their races, especially when it was in Monaco. 

You were by the docks looking at the people on their boats. Music started blasting through the speakers on the boats and people talked loudly to overpower the sound. Champagne was popping, spilling onto the wooden deck and laughter was heard from tipsy people. Girls were tanning on the deck and guys shouting at the people below. But you loved this, the commotion of people and how happy everyone was.

Screams were heard behind you when you saw that the big screen was showing all the drivers and that the drivers were posing in front of said screen. The crowd cheered the loudest when Charles' face was shown and he walked in front of it. Your heart made a jump when you saw him. Ever since that day many years ago, you had had a crush on Charles. But there was no way in hell that you were going to tell him that. Your friendship were too important to destroy by a stupid crush. But something inside you hoped, wished that he felt the same towards you. 

Pierre had seen you on the docks and made his way over to you, hugging you from behind. You shrieked, but soon relaxed when you realized who it was. Pierre laughed loudly at your reaction. 

“Pierre, you scared the living shit out of me.” you said and smacked him on the arm. His smile just grew even wider. 

“I didn’t know that you would be here so soon, (Y/N). I thought me or Charles were going to pick you up at the airport when you landed.”

“No need to, plus I didn’t want to ruin your fashion show down there.” you said and winked at him. He shoved you slightly which made you giggle. The two of you walked towards one of the cafés. The weather was amazing. You and Pierre caught up with everything while waiting for Charles to arrive. Pierre talked about the race and how he had enjoyed some time to hang out with his friends. You talked about your life and what was going on there. This was the first race that you could attend in Europe and you were happy that it was in Monaco. 

“So, anyone special at home?” he asked, with a look on his face like he knew something. You looked at him suspiciously. 

“No, why?”

“Well you are beautiful. I just wondered why you haven’t found someone yet.” his smirk grew. 

He definitely knew.

“Thank you, Pierre. I don’t know.” you tried to sound innocent and oblivious. “Maybe I haven’t found the right one.”

“Or the right one haven’t asked you.” he mumbled into his coffee, which made you turn bright red. 

Charles was on his way to your location and he had stopped by a flower shop to buy you some flowers. It had been ages since he had seen you and he wanted to give you something. He had seen you and Pierre hug on the docks, which made him feel a wave of jealousy crash inside of him. But he didn’t want to admit it to himself. The two of you were friends, nothing more, nothing less. But god did he hope for more. 

He rounded the corner to see the two of you talking at the café. The sting of jealousy came back again, because it looked like the two of you were on a date. But he tried to dismiss the thought and put on the biggest smile on his face. Pierre saw him first and waved him over, which made you turn to face him. Charles stopped in his tracks when his eyes met yours. His stomach filled with butterflies and he could feel his face getting flustered. 

You rose from your chair to run to him and you gave him the biggest hug.

“God how I have missed you, Charles.” you said. He hugged you back and inhaled your scent. How he had missed your hugs and your scent. 

“I have missed you so much, (Y/N).”

He let go of you.

“These are for you.” 

He gave you the flowers he had bought and you had the biggest smile plastered on your face.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

“Thank you so much, Charles.” you beamed and smelled the flowers.

The two of you joined Pierre by the café and continued your chat for some time. You talked about everything and nothing.

“(Y/N), you should join us tonight at the party.” Pierre said.

“There’s a party tonight?”

“Yes, it’s on one of the yacht’s by the dock. I’m sure that you can come as our plus one.” Pierre said and winked at you, which made Charles' expression sour.

“Sounds fun and I get to hang out with you guys even more.” you smiled.

“Great, there will be more formula one drivers there tonight. But just stay close to us and you’ll be fine.”

“What time is it?”

“Around seven.”

“Great, can you pick me up by my hotel before that?” 

“Of course.” they both said. 

You grabbed your flowers and left them to get ready for the party. Inhaling the scent one once again and felt the butterflies go nuts in your stomach.

He gave you flowers!

At the hotel you had packed some more fancy clothes, in case this happened and now you were extremely happy that you did. You were done just in time when someone knocked on your door. Outside stood Charles in a blue shirt and he looked ravishing. You opened and his face flustered by your fancy attire. 

“Wow, you look amazing.” he breathed. You blushed by his comment and invited him in. He closed the door and sat down on the bed.

“You know, you could’ve stayed at my place for your time here.” Charles said. You froze by his statement and he saw your reaction and he could feel the panic grow inside him.

“I-if you wanted, that is.” he stuttered trying to save the situation. “You are always welcome, you know.”

His hand touched his neck in a nervous gesture and his face was even more flustered than before. You tried to not think too much about what he said, he wanted to be a kind friend towards you. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Thank you, Charles. I will surely take that offer next time I’m in Monaco to see you.” you said and took one last glance in the mirror before the two of you headed for the lobby. The ride towards the party was fun, the two of you cracked jokes which made you cry with laughter. Charles felt proud that he could make you laugh like this and he enjoyed that the two of you were alone. 

On the yacht there were people everywhere, talking, drinking, you think you saw someone making out with someone behind the stairs. To give the lovely couple some privacy you turned around to walk over to the bar. Charles and Pierre had to do some interviews and mingle with the bosses and such, which made you stand alone for a while. But you didn’t care, because then you could watch the different people that were at the party. You saw Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen and Sebastian Vettel. In one corner you could see Daniel Ricciarido laugh with some people you didn’t recognize. 

Sebastian had seen you alone and came up to you. Charles had introduced you when Sebastian was racing for Ferrari and you could tell that Charles looked up to Sebastian. The two of you got along well as well, which made Charles even more happy. However, Sebastian could see the looks the monegasque racer gave you when you weren’t looking. The wistful and yearning looks that only a love-sick person could give. The slight tint of pink on his cheeks whenever you gave him attention or how his attention or body was always turned towards you, no matter what. 

“Hey, (Y/N).” he said and embraced you.

“Hey, Sebastian.”

“Enjoying the party?” he said and let go of you. 

“It’s nicer now that I have someone to talk to.” you joked and looked over to Pierre and Charles doing some interviews with reporters. Sebastian could see the look you gave them, especially Charles. He felt bad for you that you felt alone.

“Well, I can introduce you to some people if you want?” he asked. You nodded and followed him towards the crowd of the other racers. You met Max, Sergio and Lewis. 

Charles had glanced over at you to see that you were doing okay, but that wave of jealousy came crashing inside of him when he saw you talking to the other racers. And with the jealousy came the worry. You turned around to meet his piercing eyes and you smiled at him. His insides melted by your smile and some of the worry and jealousy went away. Some of it, but not all. 

When the interview was over he and Pierre went over to the bar. Charles ordered two drinks, one for him and one for you.

“Some encouragement?” Pierre asked.

“For what?”

“Asking (Y/N) to be yours?”

Charles almost choked on air by Pierre’s statement. 

“What are you talking about? She is a friend.”

“Yeaaah, a friend that you like… or even more than that.”

Charles just shook his head and headed over to you. You smiled at him when he reached you and someone said that we should continue the conversation on the sofas nearby. The crowd started moving towards the sofas and somehow you didn’t get a seat. Pierre came by to slightly nudge you so that you lost your balance and landed in Charles lap.

“I’m so sorry.” you said frantic, feeling yourself getting flustered, but not as flustered as Charles. You tried to get up from his lap, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“I-it’s fine. You can sit here, since there is no other room for you to sit.” he stuttered and eyed Pierre. Pierre just raised his glas towards him and continued his conversation with Esteban. Trying his best to look innocent, but it was exactly the opposite. You nodded and tried your best not to blush profusely. His body was radiating so much heat and you took some deep breaths and tried to relax. But the tention between you and Charles. You could cut it with a knife and you bet that the both of you were blushing messes at the moment. Charles didn’t know where to keep his hands and you didn’t want to move around to much. Charles wanted to both kill Pierre for doing this and thank him at the same time. But now he mostly wanted to kill him. You could feel how stiff your posture was in his lap and tried your best to not lean against him too much. But you wanted too. Charles' hand found its way on your lower back, to act as a backrest. You tried to act cool, but this whole situation made your mind and body freak out. How could you focus on anything else than Charles hand on you back? His warm body and his muscular thighs which you were currently sitting on?

You tried to continue your conversations with the boys. Throughout the night Charles got more and more bold with his actions. It started with that he rested his other hand on your thigh, which made you freeze when he did it, but you soon relaxed to his touch. Then he started to pull you closer to his chest so you were resting against his chest. You could feel it rise up and down, but he hoped that you couldn’t hear his racing heart over how close you were to him. Your arms snaked around his waist and you rested your head against his shoulder. He had a hard time breathing normally with you so close to him.  

Later that evening Pierre joined you, which made you break apart from your cozy situation. You and Pierre were talking about some silly things, as usual, and now there was room for you to sit on the sofa, but you didn’t want to leave Charles' lap. Somehow, you had gotten into the topic of different kissing techniques. This made Charles pull you even closer to himself, as he didn’t like the topic that you and Pierre were discussing. 

“Have you ever had a french kiss (Y/N)?”

“No, I don’t think so, why?”

“Well, there are a lot of french people here, would you like to try it with a real french man?” he smirked and you burst into laughter, which made you fall of Charles lap and landed between the boys instead. This made Charles expression sour even more. You and Pierre shared a loud and long laughter by what Pierre just said, but Charles… not so much. His eyes darkened as he looked over to his best friend.

“In your dreams, Pierre.” you said and dried away some tears and shoved him away from you. 

“Perhaps, but it is certainly in someone else’s dreams.” he said and patted you on the knee and left. You looked at him confused and then turned around to Charles. His eyes were still dark as he followed Pierre, but his flustered cheeks told you something else.

“Do you know what he was talking about?”

Charles’ directed his attention towards you again, trying his best to look unbothered.

“No.” he lied. 

You shrugged your shoulders and rose from the sofa.

“Come on, let’s look over the city.”

You grabbed his hand, feeling more bold now that you had sat in his lap for most of the evening. You dragged him towards the railing and looked over Monte Carlo. You hadn’t let go of his hand when you looked over the city. He drew you closer to him and you let your head rest on his arm. Then his curiosity sparked from the conversation you had with Pierre before.

“You haven’t had a french kiss?”

“No, I haven’t.” you laughed but tried to hide the nerves and your embarrassment over the topic. Charles nodded and turned around to face you. You looked at him curiously, which made his stomach do flips. How gorgeous you looked in this light, or in every light for that matter. Your smile, your hair, your laughter, you personality, it was all perfection to him. A wave of confidence crashed inside of him and he saw his chance now. He wanted to be with you and he hoped that you felt the same towards him.

It’s now or never, he thought.

“Well if you haven’t had a french kiss, you probably haven’t had a monegasque kiss.” Charles said with a smirk on his face. He let his hand touch your arm slightly, drawing circles on it. 

“A monegasque kiss? What is that?” you asked. 

“It’s like a french kiss but better.”

“Better?”

“Yes, because it is with me... “ Charles leaned in closer to you. “And you.”

He closed the gap between the two of you. One of his hands grabbed your cheek while the other hand was on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Sparks flew as your bodies touched and you stopped breathing for a second, which made Charles nervous. But you soon realized what was happening and you moved in sync with his lips. It felt like no time had passed but your lungs were screaming for air. You broke apart from the kiss, looking into each other’s eyes.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” Charles breathed. You just beamed over what had just happened. Charles’ hand caressed your cheek.

“So… What Pierre said about me kissing a certain someone in a certain someone’s dreams. Was that you?”

“Guilty.” He said and from the back you could hear Pierre cheering and shouting something like ‘finally you guys did it!’.

You just laughed and kissed Charles again, which would be one of many kisses to come and quite frankly, you enjoyed the monegasque kiss much more than you would ever like any other kiss in the future.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 🥰

TAGS: @ohmyolympusssy @baueoud @marvelishgirl​ 

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Meant To Be

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: You are studying to be an FBI profiler with a little over a year left before graduation. When the BAU team shows up in your town for a case you jump at the chance to shadow them for a day. However, things quickly take a turn when you meet Aaron Hotchner, your future boss. And the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. 

Warnings: None! A little dramatic??? This is a purely self indulgent, love at first sight kind of fic so just prepare yourselves. 

Word Count: 4,063

A/N: So I had a mild stroke trying to figure out the timeline for this series so please just don’t look too much into it lol.

MAY 2006

FORT WORTH, TX

It was just barely six in the morning when you pulled into the parking lot of the precinct. Although the sun hadn’t peaked over the horizon yet, you were surprisingly awake. In preparation for the day you had gone to bed at eight the night before which left you well-rested and alert. There was no way you were going to let yourself be off your game. Not today. Of all your classmates, you had certainly progressed the quickest. Due to your high success rate, your professor had authorized you to shadow the team of FBI profilers that were coming to your city for a case. It was an amazing opportunity for someone with a over a year left before graduation so you immediately accepted. Not allowing yourself to make even the slightest mistake, you planned everything down to the last detail in the days leading up to this. Nothing would be able to faze you. With the confidence of a woman who’d been working in this precinct all her life, you strode into the lobby. The receptionist asked for your ID which you quickly displayed. It was only temporary but even so, there was a certain amount of power you felt when she cleared you to continue into the building. After stopping briefly to ask for directions you made your way back to the Police Chief’s office. When he hears your knock, he looks up from his paperwork with a polite smile.

“Well, good morning. What can I help you with?” Clearing your throat, you prepare your most professional voice as you reply.

“My name is Y/N L/N. We met earlier this week. I’m going to be shadowing the team of profilers who are flying in today.” Recognition crosses his features as he makes his way over to shake your hand.

“Of course. I remember. It’s nice to see you again. You’re very punctual. That’s a good skill to hang on to.” You smile in gratitude. “Well, the profilers aren’t here just yet. If you’d like you can wait in here or we can find an empty desk for you.” 

“Actually, I was hoping I could look over the case files. I’d like to be as up-to-date as possible before they arrive.” As he nods, the two of you make your way into the hallway. Towards the back corner of the common workspace is an empty desk that he allows you to sit at. While you put your things down and take a seat he disappears long enough to retrieve a file folder and set it on the desk in front of you. 

“This should be enough information for you to be able to help out. If you’ve got any questions in the meantime, you know where I’m at.” With another polite smile, he leaves you to continue his paperwork. It doesn’t take long for you to read the case file. There had been a conspicuous string of murders in the area, which began about two weeks ago. Four couples were murdered in their homes, all wealthy without children. A list of witnesses and family members had been compiled to make the interview process a little easier. You predicted you’d most likely be helping one of the profilers in questioning the people on this list so you tried your best to memorize the names. 

It seemed like hardly any time had passed when you heard the main doors of the precinct opening to reveal a group of five people walking up to the receptionist’s desk. The sight of them immediately perked you up. It was difficult to make out any individual faces at first but you knew these must be the profilers. As they each scanned their IDs and made their way into the main workspace you quickly gathered your things so that you would be ready to move the moment they were. It didn’t take long for the Chief of Police to reappear, welcoming the profilers and showing them where they could set up their equipment. Every member of the team had a distinctly different look and behavior but they all seemed to work in unison. Even though they’d only been there for five minutes they exuded professionalism and efficiency. As you watched them you had to remind yourself to breathe. You had as much right to be there as them. Admittedly they did have a lot more experience than you but that didn’t change the fact that you’re all on the same team now. 

Waiting patiently, you finish putting the case file back together and fold your hands to rest them on the edge of the desk. When the Chief of Police calls you over you gather up your things and make your way around the various desks to stand next to him. 

“This here is Miss L/N. She’s a student at our local university. She’s gonna be tagging along with you guys today for a little real-world practice.” As he introduces you, you take the opportunity to study the faces of the people in front of you. There is only one you recognize for certain. They all have their attention set on you as well which makes you suddenly very aware of yourself. “Anyway, I’ll let you all introduce yourselves.” With a nod, he turns to speak to you. “If you don’t mind stopping by my office at the end of the day, I’ll get you all checked out alright? In the meantime, have fun I guess.” He adds with a laugh before finally leaving you alone with the others. 

The first one to extend his hand to you is the one person you are familiar with. More than familiar, seeing as he is kind of your hero. You had been the one to initiate the arrangement, having sent him an email a few weeks ago. He had seemed more than willing to let you work with them for the day and he was nothing but helpful, just like you knew he would be. Seeing him now was nearly surreal.

“Y/N, I remember.” He begins, shaking your hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jason Gideon, as you know. Glad to have you on board.” 

“It’s absolutely an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve been a follower of your work since I knew what profiling was. I am so grateful for this opportunity. I am more than ready to help in any way I can.” As you speak, a warm smile lights his face. One of friendliness and hope.

“Of course. I think I speak for my team when I say we’re grateful as well. Not many people in our field get a chance to guide the next generation to a life of helping others. Anything we can do to support you as a future member of our team, we’re happy to do.” This response is entirely heartfelt and shocking to you. Of all the ways you’d imagined this interaction starting, this wasn’t what you had in mind and yet it was exactly what you needed. 

“Thank you, sir.” Was all you could manage as you work to maintain your fading air of professionalism. 

“Well, with that I’ll let everyone do their own introductions.” Almost immediately another man stepped out of line and reached for your hand. He was very conventionally handsome and the way he carried himself told you he knew that he was good-looking. The smile he flashed you was contagious as you shook hands with him.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Agent Derek Morgan and I am very excited to get to know you.” The woman next to him has to pull him away, shooting him a look. She seems very severe and yet when she turns to look at you there is a distinct kindness in her eyes.

“Knock it off Morgan. You’re gonna scare her off before she even gets a chance to meet anyone else.” She says over her shoulder, taking your hand. “I’m Elle. If he keeps bugging you, I’ll be more than happy to rough him up for you.” Morgan holds his hands up defensively when he catches Elle’s eye again before giving you a small wink. 

“Nice to meet you both.” It’s hard to contain your laughter but you manage, giving a small smile instead. Another woman is standing beside Gideon who shakes your hand. She is very beautiful and seems to exude confidence and grace. 

“I’m JJ. I’m the Communications Liaison for the BAU. We spoke briefly last week.” You nod in recognition. She had helped you coordinate the time and place to meet up for the day.  

“Of course. Very nice to meet you in person.” 

“Likewise. We’re excited to be working with you.” She gives you a warm smile which you gladly return before looking to the last person in the small group. He looks to be about your age, very sensibly dressed with a nice posture. There is a slight awkwardness in the way that he shakes your hand but he gives you a quick smile and you can see that he has a hidden friendliness in his demeanor. 

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He says shortly to which you politely nod. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” With that, you turn back to Gideon to ask about your assignment for the day. However, you can’t help but feel like something is missing. “I read through the case file this morning so I can be of use wherever I’m needed. Did you have an assignment in mind or will I be moving around throughout the day?” 

“I think it would be beneficial for you to work with SSA Hotchner. He should be here any minute.” That’s what was missing. Hotchner. You had heard his name before but you didn’t know much about him. As you waited for him to arrive, Gideon began delegating tasks to each of the other members. Despite not being given a task yet you listened intently until the front doors of the precinct opened. 

However you had pictured Hotchner, the man that walked through that door was the furthest thing from what you expected. The sight of him striding in from the lobby made your breath catch in your throat. There was an innate power in the way that he moved. So much purpose and intensity. His eyes were dark and they found your face almost immediately. It was enough to make you squirm but you maintained your composure. Gideon turned to greet him before gesturing back towards you. “This is Y/N L/N. She’s a student who is here to shadow the team for the day.” 

With the slightest hesitation, you extended your hand toward him. His eyes didn’t leave yours for a moment as he shook your hand. 

“I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. It’s very nice to meet you.” He spoke with a clear sense of professionalism. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m looking forward to working with you. I have a feeling I’m going to learn a lot from this experience.” 

“I hope so. It was very smart of you to seize this opportunity. It does not come around often. Soak up everything you can today and I’m sure it will bring you a lot of success in the future.” You listen to him intently, nodding with a small smile. 

“Hotch, would you mind if she rides along with you today? We’ve got a list of witnesses we need to speak to and I think it would be good for her to get out in the field rather than being stuck here doing paperwork.” Gideon interjects, looking to both of you as he proposes the idea. Hotchner looks around the precinct briefly for the other team members before giving Gideon his attention again.

“Of course. Do I need to brief her on the case?” 

“Actually, I already familiarized myself with the case file before you all got here this morning.” You interrupt before Gideon can respond, causing both the men to look at you. “Sir.” You add, clearing your throat. They both share a knowing look. 

“Perfect,” Hotchner replied, with a respectful nod. Satisfied with the interaction, Gideon dismissed himself to begin his work leaving the two of you alone. “Give me a few minutes to speak with the Chief of Police and then we can get started. Would you mind waiting out front for me?” You nod eagerly which prompts him to walk back toward the Chief’s office. Once he has disappeared around the corner you make your way to the front of the building, stepping through the main doors. The cool morning air brings with it a sweet wave of relief. You hadn’t realized how hot you were until you had stepped outside. Nerves were already building up in your system when you were being introduced to the rest of the team but meeting Hotchner had tipped you over the edge. There was no denying that he was a very handsome man. The evidence was in the blush that was surely covering your face. Mentally scolding yourself you take a deep breath. You were a professional and you would act as such. No matter how deeply moved you felt when he looked into your eyes like that. 

A few minutes later Hotchner made his way through the front doors causing you to stand at attention. Moving briskly, you followed him into the parking lot and pulled yourself into the passenger seat of the dark SUV he had just unlocked. He remained silent as he began typing an address into the GPS before pulling out of the parking lot. Once you were on the road he looked over at you briefly.

“How much do you know about questioning witnesses?” He began.

“Quite a bit. I’m only about a year away from graduation so I have a fairly advanced understanding of a wide variety of concepts that pertain to profiling.” Watching the GPS, he nods. Feeling a tinge of awkwardness, you allow your eyes to stay focused on your lap.

“Good. Any real-world experience?” 

“Unfortunately no. In my courses, we do simulate certain scenarios fairly often but there isn’t much opportunity for real application.” 

“Well the best advice I can give for today is to stay quiet and watch me. If I need you to speak up, I will tell you as much. Otherwise, don’t say anything. It isn’t that I distrust you. It would just be irresponsible of me to allow someone with zero field experience to question the victim’s friends and family during some of the most difficult times of their lives. Especially without having seen what they’re capable of beforehand. I’m sure you understand.” 

“Oh absolutely. I completely understand. I know that I’m here in more of an observational capacity today. And even if I wasn’t, you’re the boss. No explanation necessary.” Hotchner is quiet for a moment. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with avoiding eye contact, you would have seen the remnants of a smile on his face.

“I should have you talk to the rest of the team. They could learn a thing or two from you.” This causes you to laugh lightly. 

When you finally do decide to look at him the sight steals your breath yet again. He is bathed in the golden light of the rising sun and he seems almost ethereal. You can see a flash of his deep brown eyes which seemed very soft now in the glow of the sun. As though he could feel you looking at him he turns to meet your eyes although this time you don’t look away. The two of you sit there in what seems like the most eternal moment, dancing in and out of each other before he breaks away to look back at the road. For a moment you could almost swear you saw something there in his eyes, something almost like longing. It must have just been a trick of the light. 

“So, what made you decide to be a profiler?” The moment is over as quickly as it began as he speaks up. 

“Well, I’ve always had a deep fascination with the human psyche. Finding out what makes people tick. Picking apart their personalities, their behaviors. Growing up that almost felt like the only way to understand the kids around me. By studying them. Every friendship I had felt like a science project. When I found out that I could use that ability to be part of something bigger than myself, to make the world just a little brighter ... well, it was really a no-brainer.” 

“That’s very ... noble and, honestly, very uplifting to hear. With this job, you experience a lot more bad days than you do good. Sometimes it is hard to remember why we started doing this in the first place. It’s people like you that remind me this job is worth it. Hang on to those beliefs. They’ll help keep you sane, I can promise you that.” With a nod, you give him a kind smile.

“I will. I promise.” It isn’t much longer before you arrive at the first house. The interview is fairly straightforward. You stay close by Hotchner’s side as he introduces the both of you. Once you’re inside you sit quietly as he begins asking questions, merely listening and taking mental notes of the way he conducts himself. It is over fairly quickly and then you’re both back in the SUV and off to your next destination. The next two interviews are the same. On the third, he lets you ask a few routine questions. It is a simple gesture but you are very grateful for the experience and you handle yourself very well. 

Your final interview is with the parents of the latest male victim. When Hotchner knocks on the door, it takes a minute for it to open. Standing on the other side is an older man with a tired expression. 

“Yes? What is it?” The man says briskly. Hotchner pulls out his badge.

“I am SSA Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. This is Miss Y/N L/N. May we come in?” Hearing the term FBI causes the man’s expression to darken rather quickly as he looks between the two of you.

“Where’s your badge?” He questions, nodding in your direction. Remaining silent, you share a look with Hotchner. After a second of thought he gives you a small nod of approval.

“I’m not actually an FBI agent yet, sir. I’m a criminology student at the local university. I’m shadowing Agent Hotchner today as a learning opportunity before getting out in the field myself.” 

“A learning opportunity?” It takes the man almost no time to answer and you can hear a significant shift in his voice. “You’re using my son’s death as a learning opportunity?” 

“You misunderstand--” Hotchner begins in your defense before you quickly cut him off with your own response.

“Sir, I can’t begin to fathom what you’re going through. But I can promise you that my lack of experience is entirely made up for by my desire to see the person who did this to your son pay for it. It doesn’t take training to see that your son deserves justice for his death.” The man is silent but keeps his eyes locked on yours. 

“My wife and I have already told the police everything we know.” 

“We know, sir. It will only take a few moments of your time and anything you can tell us might be crucial in finding your son’s killer.” 

“No. No, we’ve already talked about this more than any parent should ever have to. If it’s that important go ask the police what we said.”

“Please, sir--” Before he can finish, the man smacks the door frame.

“It took the deaths of eight innocent people for you to swoop in and save the day. You really think I want to waste a second of my time speaking with you? I have nothing more to say. Now get out of here.” With that, Hotchner nods before turning to leave which prompts you to quickly follow. As you get near the SUV you are startled by the sound of the man’s door being slammed shut. Once inside you release the breath that had been caught in your chest. When you look over at Hotchner his expression shows a deadly calmness and you are suddenly struck by the idea that he must be pissed at you.

“I’m so sorry. That was all my fault. I upset him. I shouldn’t have said anything to him. I should have just kept my mouth shut like you told me to. I had no right to do that. I’m sorry.” The crushing weight of embarrassment and guilt settled over you. This morning you had felt more than ready but now it seemed like the day had been filled with challenges you couldn’t possibly have prepared for. In only a few hours you had managed to show your boss that you are completely incompetent. You ready yourself for what must surely be his wrath however when he turns towards you his expression shifts from one of unwavering calm to gentle kindness.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry with you. What you said was perfect, it’s exactly what I would have said. You were establishing a rapport with him to gain his trust. You did the right thing. Believe me, it wasn’t you. There is nothing either of us could have said that would have gotten a different result.” When he sees that you are still wary he shifts in his seat to face you more directly. “As a future member of my team, you have my trust. You handled yourself very impressively today. You’re going to make a very fine addition to the BAU.” 

His words ease your anxious mind as you nod quietly. Soon after Hotchner is pulling back out onto the street to take you both back to the police precinct. After a minute of silence he glances over at you.

“So ... are you still sure you want to do this?” The question catches you off-guard but it takes you no time at all to answer.

“More than anything.” This time you do catch the faint smile that crosses his lips which causes you to give a small smile in return.

“Good.” Is all he says for the rest of the ride back to the precinct.

The day is over much more quickly than you had hoped for. When you step back into the police building you make a beeline for the chief’s office, remembering his request that you find him again at the end of the day. You return your temporary ID and he fills out a form for your professor to verify your activity for the day. Once the formalities are over he bids you a good evening and shows you back out to the main workspace. The team all gather briefly to say their goodbyes as well. You thank Gideon profusely for allowing you to join them before shaking hands with the rest of the team members. As you make your way to the exit you see Hotchner standing near the main doors. 

“Thank you so much for letting me tag along today. I really learned a lot.” As you say this you extend your hand which he quickly takes. 

“Absolutely. It was a pleasure working with you and I look forward to seeing you again in a few years. In the meantime, here’s my card.” He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out his business card which he hands to you. “If you ever need anything, feel free to give me a call.” Tucking the card safely into your pocket you thank him with a smile before heading out the main doors to your car. 

Once inside you pull the card out of your pocket and sit for a minute, staring at it. Unable to control yourself you let a giddy smile paint your face. After the day you had, a year has never seemed longer. The anticipation of your future at the BAU looms over you but rather than filling you with nerves it brings you hope and excitement for the things to come. Opening a small compartment on your dash, you tuck the business card away before heading home to get a good night’s sleep filled with wonderful dreams.

Tags: @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gamingaquarius @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ohpedromypedro @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711 @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester​

[bestofbucky]

Run To You - 1

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Mob AU. Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard.

Warnings: None

A/N: This is going to be a series so comment or send an ask if you want to be tagged in it! 18+ Only please. Hope you enjoy

From this prompt list by @caplanbuckybarnes . Prompts are in bold.

Divider and gif made by me.

Series Masterlist

Your fingers work quickly, manipulating the fabric. Around, over, through. Tying a tie is still second nature, you don’t even have to think about what your hands are doing. You do up the button of the jacket and brush yourself off, straightening out any little creases.

Looking at the woman in the mirror you sigh. You haven’t seen yourself like this for three years. You had sworn off suits for all eternity yet here you are, putting one on again.

You felt torn, your mind telling you getting back into being a bodyguard would just open the floodgates but your heart couldn’t let it go. You loved the adrenaline that came with it, the ability to focus solely on the protection of someone rather than the struggles life and the shit it throws at you. You told yourself you had to at least take the interview, you owed it to Sam.

You met Sam two years ago, when you attended a group therapy session at the VA. You hadn’t wanted to go but after your first session you found yourself going back. You never spoke but your military and personal security past gave you plenty of trauma to relate to the people who did share their stories. Then one session Sam had approached you and you very quickly bonded.

You went from seeing each other once a week in the sessions, to seeing each other almost every day. Movie nights, cooking for each other and talking out of your asses became routine. You were in a dark place in your life when you met Sam but his friendship quickly became a very strong reason for you to continue enduring life.

You chuckled to yourself remembering the shock you felt when he told you he was not only part of a mob, he was one of the mob boss’ second hand men. He told you stories of the two other men at the top of the pack. Bucky, the leader, gets on Sam’s nerves a lot but deep down they really care for each other and Steve, the other second hand man and according to Sam ‘even more of an idiot than Bucky’. The way he talked about them made it sound like they were just really good friends, basically family, not dangerous criminals.

Taking a deep breath you take one last look in the mirror and head to the address Sam had given you. The journey was quick and before you knew it you were sat in the lobby of a very fancy building waiting for Sam to come and get you.

After a brief catch up, Sam guides you to Bucky’s office, giving you a thumbs up before closing the door behind you leaving the two of you alone. Bucky doesn’t look up from whatever work he is doing. You wait but this goes on past the point of being rude.

“Sir?” His head snaps up at your voice, eyes trailing up and down your body not being subtle at all. He scoffs and goes back to his work.

“Excuse me? I’m here for the bodyguard interview?” You don’t have the patience to go along with whatever game he is playing.

“Interview? You’re mistaken. Sam told me to take this appointment so you can pitch me the idea of having a bodyguard. Personally, I don’t think I need one.” He says bluntly still focused on his work.

You laugh out loud but quickly stop yourself when you catch the death glare he gives you.

“Something funny?” He scowls, clearly not happy with the dynamics in the room.

“Yeah, the fact you think you don’t need a bodyguard.” You say frankly.

“I’ve survived this long without a bodyguard. What makes you assume I need one now?” He smirks thinking he caught you off guard.

“Since the time I entered this building I have already found five simple ways to kill you and not get caught.” You cross your arms over your body not letting him intimidate you.

“Ok, you have my attention. Name them.” He challenges leaning back in his chair.

“One, the building over there,” you point out the window and he turns to look, “someone could take you out with a sniper and you’d have a bullet in your head before you could blink. Two, you only have one entrance and exit to the parking garage, someone could easily tail you and cause a little accident.” His calm and collected demeanour starts to fade as he realises the truth behind your words so you continue. “Your packages aren’t checked, anyone could mail anything to you and as soon as you open it, it could explode or release a toxic gas, dead in seconds. The roof of this building is close enough to the one next door, someone could sneak in from there and you have no guards there to stop them.” You stop talking as he stands up chuckling to himself.

Buttoning his suit jacket he crosses the room to you. He is a lot taller than he looked from being sat behind the desk. You can see his bulging muscles even from under his suit and you can’t help but wonder what he looks like underneath his clothes.

You notice one of his hands looks like he is wearing a black glove but when he walks across the window it catches the light in a way a glove wouldn’t. You realise it's probably a metal prosthetic, drawing your eyes away from his arm you focus on his face. His sharp cheekbones act as an arrow directing your eyes to his lips.

“That’s only four.” He smirks down at you, his body is close enough for you to smell his cologne but you don’t let his attractiveness throw you. Pulling a knife out of a hidden holster in your suit you hold it up, the blade reflecting the light.

“Five, me. Your guards aren’t very thorough with their weapon search.” You wink at him as you see his eyebrow twitch slightly and the smirk disappear from his face. He takes a few steps backwards and leans on his desk.

“I’d like to see you try to kill me with that.” He is smiling but the slight crease in between his brows, the small amount of sweat on his forehead and the minuscule increase in breathing tells you he has been caught off guard.

“Don’t underestimate me.” Your eyes meet his, neither one of you willing to stand down. You’re not sure how much longer it is when he finally clears his throat and you both look away from each other.

“Fine. You’re hired, but you’re on a probationary period. I can and will fire you if you give me a reason to.” He narrows his eyes at you. You simply nod in response. “I need to finish up here then I will take you to our main base.”

Next Part

Permanent Taglist: @vampirewithbedsidemanners @townwitchbitch @velvetcardiganbucky @courtneychicken @band--psycho

[dbgdbw]

193화

193화

소장님 (3)

Director (3)

I liked comfortable clothes. The kind that fit loosely because it was a little big, without superfluous attachments. If the fabric was light and soft to the touch, even better. At any rate, I didn’t like feeling stuffy.

‘Formal wear sucks.’

Personally tailored to improve the fit. It did look alright, I supposed. But then, I was also nagged about getting the rest of my everyday clothes tailored too. Something like, it was fine to wear what I wanted indoors at home, but to dress up a bit even if I was going to the mart nearby. 

I did wear closer-fitting clothes when I went into Dungeons even if I didn’t like it, because it would be bad if my clothes got caught or snagged--but I wanted to live comfortably otherwise. On top of that, it was still hot out even though it was already August. The kind of temperature that made it tiring to dress up properly, both physically and mentally.

‘This atmosphere already feels taxing.’

Sitting alone in the back seat of a silent car, unnecessary thoughts kept coming to mind. The driver and the assistant in the passenger’s seat were dressed in black suits. Both were A-rank Hunters that had been provided by Haeyeon. 

I’d initially planned on taking Noah with me, but Seok Shimyoung had mentioned that bringing another S-rank Hunter to a meeting with a S-rank could be interpreted as a jab towards the other party. A provocation along the lines of look at me, bossing around a S-rank Hunter as I please, or something. 

Thanks to that, the car was steeped in a deep silence. It felt too awkward to be the first one to break the ice.

I pulled out my phone and checked the time for something to do. There was still over thirty minutes left until the meeting time. This was because being younger, lower-ranked, and inexperienced merited an earlier arrival, based on the gap that existed.

‘They said Sung Hyunjae is the type to arrive right on time.’

Seok Shimyoung had let me know that he wasn’t the type to try to assert dominance by playing around with meeting times. But, even then, he warned me to be careful if he did show up late--that would mean that he clearly intended to pressure me. 

Even while telling me this and that, it seemed like Seok Shimyoung didn’t actually expect Sung Hyunjae to meet with me seriously. To a certain extent, I was also in agreement. 

It wouldn’t be surprising if he showed up at the promised location with a simple change of heart, saying that he had already grown bored. The possibility of just being stood up wasn’t nonexistent, either. 

‘...feels like I’m going to an interview.’

As if someone who only had a secondary education and no qualifications had somehow managed to squeeze in, and was being told that they had to go in front of not even the receptionist, but a huge company’s CEO… was basically what this was. Thinking about that pre-Return time made my confidence dwindle even more. 

As soon as we arrived in front of the hotel where the promised location was, a staff member came out to greet me. In the luxurious hotel lobby, a row of hotel staff standing at attention were the only people around. He wouldn’t have happened to rent out the whole hotel, right. Even if it was a weekday, there should have been some guests with prior reservations.

But the whole time I was being escorted to the elevator, I didn’t catch sight of anyone who appeared to be a guest. Though it was far from being a conference room or a restaurant, did he actually rent out the whole place. 

‘...since he’s the kind of person who’s fine with wasting a cruise ship, well.’

But even then, it was excessive. How much did all this cost. Couldn’t he just stay within reasonable limits. 

--

“From this point on, only Han Yoojin-nim will be permitted to enter.”

Once we went up in the elevator, a Seseung guild member greeted us at the entrance of the hall. 

“Those escorting him, please wait over here.”

They mentioned that none of Seseung’s people would be going inside as well. It was only a few non-Awakened hotel employees, whose identities had all been confirmed. With a slight feeling of anticipation, I walked onwards. The carpeting on the floor, illuminated by dim lights, was soft enough that it almost silenced any footsteps. There were still twenty-something minutes still left until the promised time. 

‘I’ll go in first and find my seat to wait, then stand and greet Sung Hyunjae naturally when he appears.’

Reiterating Seok Shimyoung’s instructions in my head, I opened the door. A wide, subdued lounge appeared in front of me. I could see the setting sky beyond the expansive glass walls that sprawled across the room. After taking a few steps inside, I came to an abrupt halt. 

‘...this wasn’t in our calculations.’

I could see a man sitting next to the open view. His upper half was comfortably reclined against the back of his chair, and his gaze turned in my direction. One long leg was lightly crossed over the other.

Unlike myself, he looked so relaxed that it was enough to piss me off a bit. Why was he already here, anyhow. I shifted through my options as I forced my feet forward again. Did I have to apologize for being late. But, I wasn’t actually late. Should I ask if he had waited long? Though I wasn’t late. I was early, damn it. 

I reached the table. Sung Hyunjae only looked up at me with a faint smile, wordless.

“You seem to have a lot of free time.”

The words came out reflexively, before I could filter them. Honestly, it did seem like he didn’t have anything to do. But even then, maybe I should’ve said something like how diligent or the like. Though that was a bit passive aggressive too. Maybe something safe, like you’re here early. No, I should’ve just greeted him normally.

“Um, Seseung’s Guild Leader-nim.”

Hello, didn’t seem quite right, and have you been doing okay… was, well, it had only been a few days. Did you enjoy your probation time, was the same as throwing down a gauntlet. Don’t just look at me, you say something too. Something. 

“I heard that arriving early like this isn’t something you do, so this is unexpected.”

“I couldn't be so careless, when it’s my first meeting with my Partner.”

“Is that why you emptied the entire hotel?”

“A small token of my sincerity.” 

Our concepts of scale seemed to be vastly different. I continued to repress the urge to make snide remarks. It had become too habitual over time. 

At any rate, I hadn’t been stood up. Since he had even taken the prerogative to arrive first, that could probably be taken as a positive sign. Of course, I couldn’t let my guard down. As I sat down in the seat opposite, Sung Hyunjae corrected his posture. 

“Regarding the raising facility, I’ve recently……”

I cut myself off as I suddenly remembered the business card. I’d intended to bring up the topic of the mount raising facility naturally while handing over my business card. But before then, I’d shown up after Sung Hyunjae had already… Ah, whatever. From the beginning, renting out the entire hotel had probably been a kind of power play anyway. 

“Please receive this business card first.”

Taking one from my inventory, I pushed it towards him. I felt sorry towards Seok Shimyoung-ssi, but mucking things up from the get-go made it difficult to stick to the script I’d been taught. To begin with, there was no way I would be able to imitate a competent, refined businessman after just one morning. 

“Director Han Yoojin-nim, is it.”

“Do provide one as well, Seseung’s Guild Leader-nim.”

Wasn’t it standard procedure for it to be an exchange. At my words, Sung Hyunjae handed me one of his business cards as well. How clean. The contact information written on the card was different from what I knew. 

“Though you’re probably already aware of it, the mount raising facility is currently set to undergo restructuring. Because of that, we would like to amend part of the terms that had been set in the original contract.”

There were no issues with Haeyeon, and Moon Hyuna had answered with an affirmative on Breaker’s side. Since MKC had fallen into ruin, only Seseung and Hanshin were left. I had been told that, were we to gain Seseung’s approval, then Hanshin would be unlikely to contest the development either. 

“There are no major changes. The primary objective will be switching from a system that depends on the security details provided by each guild, to one staffed internally.”

Though I said that ‘nothing major would change,’ it meant that ultimately the influence of each guild would be lessened. At present, since security comprised Hunters from each of the five--now four--guilds, information naturally leaked out. Who I was meeting with or what I was doing, all of it reached the guilds eventually. 

This was to prevent that.

“I’ll have to refuse.”

Huh? I barely held back from verbalizing it. His voice continued languidly. 

“Of course, there’s no reason to amend a contract that’s already been finalized with unfavorable conditions.”

That was true. The problem was, there wasn’t really anything to tempt Sung Hyunjae with to get him to accept the request. Seok Shimyoung and I had put our heads together beforehand to try and come up with something, but nothing suitable had come to mind.

“Please state your conditions for acceptance.”

“As I thought, Han Yoojin-ssi is still too green.”

“...pardon?”

“Do correct your posture.” 

I straightened my spine reflexively at Sung Hyunjae’s words. At some point, I had shifted so I was leaning in towards the table. 

“First, when you walked in, then twice when you reached the table, and then thrice after sitting down. Over such a brief span of time, Yoojin-goon’s expression faltered a total of six times.”

Unconsciously, I touched my face. It was true that I had been caught off guard multiple times, but had it been that obvious. 

“So have I failed?”

“I’m not so heartless as to throw a baby chick whose feathers haven’t grown in yet out of the nest. Since my Partner is young and immature yet.”

He smiled, as if he was being magnanimous. How generous of him to consider that. 

“However, Yoojin-goon, my belongings are free to conduct themselves however they wish. They can be shabby or inferior. Even if I hold a clumsily shaved pencil in my hand rather than a high caliber pen, the way people view me will not change. Since everyone is already aware that Seseung’s Guild Leader is capable of buying tens or hundreds of pens. Instead, the value of the pencil might even go up.”

Sung Hyunjae’s hand gestured broadly towards me.

“A partner, on the other hand, is different.”

The chair silently slid back as he stood up. He was already tall to begin with, but he seemed to tower over even more when I was looking up at him while sitting down. 

“It’s a relationship where two stand on equal ground and acknowledge one another. To put it another way, if Han Yoojin-goon is found lacking.”

Sung Hyunjae moved. Going around the table, he came over to my side. I had to catch myself before I turned to follow his movements. As the hem of his suit went out of sight, a hand was placed on my shoulder.

“Then I will also feel the effects. Especially so, if Yoojin-goon is the only one I’ve acknowledged as a partner. If the person I named as an equal is incompetent, then my judgement will be questioned as well. Birds of a feather(1) goes the saying, I believe.”

Low laughter scattered above my head. As I imagined myself standing beside Sung Hyunjae, I started feeling overwhelmed. If it weren’t for the fear nullification, I may have even shouted at him to stop. Of course I would seem lacking, from anyone’s perspective.

Heedless of my internal state, his voice continued. 

“So, if you are unable to give an adequate showing until the end.”

The hand resting on my shoulder shifted, and a long finger lightly tapped my neck. 

“There’s no choice but to drag the undeserving from their seat.”

I expelled a short breath, as if forcing it out. What a scary way to pressure someone. 

“Would it be enough if I started worrying for my life now?”

“Gracious, it seems I’ve caused a misunderstanding. There’s no need to fret, as my affection for Han Yoojin-goon is unchanged. It’s simply the ranking that’s subject to conversion.”

“To revert back to how it was before? Unless it doesn’t even merit that much.”

“Of course, it’ll be slightly different. Since it’d be a nuisance to have a leash break twice.”

I’ll crush you completely so you won’t even think about rebelling, was it. So he didn’t recognize me completely, after all. I was only being afforded an opportunity.

That seemed about right. Since it wouldn’t be much different from the pet you doted over suddenly coming out and asserting that it was a human too. Accommodating even this much was commendable, basically. 

But even so.

“Sung Hyunjae-ssi--sorry, but.”

I tipped my head back, as if to rest against the back of my seat. I made direct contact with the eyes looking down at me. 

“Even if I’m found lacking in comparison to you, a situation where things return to before will not occur.”

As if daring me to continue, the golden eyes narrowed slightly in mirth. 

“As, even if I appear before you like this, I’m not a lone entity. Though you might be the great Seseung Guild Leader, you’ll be bitten painfully, trying to declare proprietorship prematurely. Perhaps the wound will be fatal, even.”

I didn’t want to cause suffering for those who cared about me. If things with Sung Hyunjae turned antagonistic, then win or lose, the repercussions would be substantial. And so was the potential harm it could cause down the line. Infighting was the wrong choice, when there were external threats lurking around. Expending power needlessly was foolish.

So bowing my head would be the best thing to do. I was still of the opinion that acquiescing to Sung Hyunjae’s whims and coaxing those around me was the optimal method, but.

‘That’s just what I find the most comfortable.’

I wanted to sacrifice myself. That was easy. It also afforded a quick path. 

But I had seen them worry and suffer and clutch at their hearts because of me. No matter the opponent or how slim the chance of victory, there were those who would forge and take up arms for my sake. They would be happier to do that. 

So what else could I do. There was nothing for it, except to join hands and put our heads together and struggle as one until the end. At the end of the end, when all other options had been exhausted, I might ultimately end up faltering. Since I wasn’t that strong. But for now, it was fine. 

“At the very least, it’ll be impossible to attain what you want unscathed. Whether it’s me, or yourself.”

“...it’s troubling to be tempted in such a way.”

Sung Hyunjae mumbled. What nonsense was this again. He wouldn’t happen to be more intrigued by the prospect of a grueling fight, right. …was it too late for me to say that’s not what I meant. Peace was the best after all. Let’s work things out with words.

“Dear Director Han, I recommend that you enroll in college as a first step.”

“Pardon?”

“Though I think Seok Shimyoung would have already recommended it. It is beneficial to minimize the number of flaws.”

Sung Hyunjae responded, walking back towards the table. 

“...if I were to be granted special admission, it would already be a bad look.”

“Gaining special admission also speaks to capability. Criticism may occur, but the overall reception will be better than if you’d elected to remain without a post-secondary education. People are inclined to accept merits that are gained through one’s own efforts, regardless of the actual circumstances or practices involved.”

Standing opposite of me, his gaze slowly scanned over me as if in observation. 

“Then, for now. We’ll begin by assessing Yoojin-goon’s current state foremost.”

Sung Hyunjae said, like some kind of teacher. I would like to reject this course, please.

-

(1) 유유상종 (類類相從)

lol @ shj reverting back to -군 for hyj halfway thru

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

New York High Rise {3}

Series summary; What does Steve think of what just happened? Well, not only will his next client get to know but also a dear friend of the mob boss.

Pairing: mob!Steve x mob!reader  

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 3/5

Word; 6.2k

Warnings; canon type violence, death, anything you could expect from a mafia!au

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I just want to warn anyone, this chapter revolve around Steve and contains graphic scenes so if anyone feel like they may get triggered, I have now warned you. If you choose to read anyways it is YOUR choice.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Steve was fuming. He could practically feel the steam rising from the top of his head. This time, compared to earlier, it wasn't because of the feverish warmth inside the club. Nor the sunny season's air outside. It was because of the folder resting on the table.

The Canine boss could still hear the echoing slap the orderly stacked papers had done when landing on the table. Even your words reverberated in his head like an annoying tune he couldn't help but mutely sing in his mind.

This was not how he'd thought this meeting would go.

Steve had planned to get his will through, to expand his empire from Brooklyn to the most successful part of New York, Manhattan, your territory. But no. You'd decided to be as stubborn as a mule and as stuck up as the bureaucrats that he needed to handle in exclusive deals.

Now he understood why so many said your empire wasn't the usual kind, rather something new. You'd built your syndicate from the best, or worst in regard of how the Canine for the moment saw you, of two worlds.

"Bitch", you were long gone, so the growled curse aimed at you went unheard. However, the walls around Steve caught the profanity he uttered whilst snagging the folder from the table and pursued to head out of the room.

Only the guards stationed outside the corridor leading to the conference room was still in the club. Yet, the Canine boss paid them no mind as he stalked out of the private area, making them scramble to follow him. The rest of his party, even those previously undercover, must have either retreated for the night or waited outside. Concerning how Steve himself hadn't left yet, he suspected at least his most trusted team was waiting by the car.

Passing through the lobby, the mob boss frightened some of the staff lingering about. Not only thanks to the authority he always carried himself with but also his visible darkened features. However, Steve's attention didn't stray to the people following him with wary eyes. Instead, he looked straight forward, focusing on his guards where they lounged around the black Chrysler he'd arrived with a few hours earlier.

Seemingly, they had enough of an engaging conversation that they shared some laughs. But that changed the moment Steve stepped through the door a bouncer held open for him.

Usually, the Canine boss' hard exterior dissolved somewhat among his men, seeing how they'd become good comrades. Although now, when the dark-blonde man came out of the club looking like he could kill someone, their easy smiles and carefree stance immediately smartened up. Backs straightened and jaws clenched upon seeing the fury Steve not only emitted with a scowl but his whole body.

"How did it go?" One of the guards questioned, more out of courtesy than curiosity, concerning it was clear how it went. As suspected, he got nothing more than a glare from Steve, seeing how his anger hadn't flickered out the slightest, only heightened when feeling how his fingers clutched the folder in his hand even tighter. Your folder with your contract.

"Where's Barnes?" Some flinched by his bark of a question.

"He's still inside...", the rest of the answer fell on deaf ears as the blonde rounded the car, not caring too much where his head bodyguard was for the moment, only that he would hurry up to finish whatever he dealt with.

"As soon as he's back, we go", the driver, who had noticed the Canine boss and stepped out of the vehicle to hold open the door for him, didn't even get the chance to do what he intended. Steve all but tore open the backseat door and climbed into the car. Leaving the chauffeur to stand there and look at his boss in perplexity, as the Canine didn't more than touch the black leather seat before he slammed the door shut again.

That Steven had a temper everyone in his vicinity knew. But how he now acted reached not only a new level but contrasted heavily to how you'd appeared.

You'd left about ten minutes ago, looking indifferent to how everyone in Steven's patrol had seen you when first entering the designated conference room. That guard of yours had led you to the car parked mere ten feet from their own boss'. There, your chauffeur had greeted you with a smile and a few quiet words none besides you were meant to hear. Neither was your response, that likewise was accompanied with a smile, able to be distinguished.

As you stepped into your transport, none of the men trying to read your expressions noted anything more than a similar politeness Steve could show them once in their company. However, when comparing it to the state of their own boss once he exited, it was clear that the meeting didn't favour the Canine boss, but rather the Feline. And though none who had accompanied Steven knew what the two of you'd discussed concerning the meeting had been a closed-door discussion, they knew their boss hadn't brought anything with him earlier. So when spotting the portfolio that the mob boss had held in his hand, it only sealed the deal further.

That was why none of the guards nor the chauffeur intruded on the solitude Steve had sought inside the car, merely waiting for the right-hand man of the Canine boss to return so they could head to their next stop.

And it was good none did either, seeing how Steve mulled over everything that had happened with curses leaving him every five seconds. Additionally, anyone who would've opened the opposite backseat door would have got your folder smack in the forehead, seeing how the blonde man had thrown it as harshly and as far away from himself that he could, once in his own confinement.

He didn't need to hold the damned contract you'd offered him, even less open and study it, to know he would read it in your annoying voice. And that aggravated Steve even more.

It annoyed him that your voice echoed as a constant reminder in his mind. It annoyed him that you'd prepared a contract, which so obviously cried you hadn't even come here to listen to him in the first place. It annoyed him to such a fucking degree that you'd played him by a mere act of forced courtesy rather than a gentlemen move, to use your own words, that it felt like he could just tear the contract to shreds.

Still, he didn't.

The blonde man seethed, turning his head to look at the folder. 'If you don't sign it and have it delivered to me, I know you've declined my offer and this war will be ended in another way.' He knew you were serious about that, so perhaps that was why he hadn't left it behind in the conference room. Nonetheless, it had taken a great effort for Steve to push away every ounce of pride in his body to grab ahold of it. And when he finally held the stiff cartoon folder, it had almost felt like it burned him like some crucifix. No, it burned like a sign of defeat.

Joseph Rogers would never have done it, never admitted when he was defeated.

At the thought of his father, Steve's hand fisted where it rested on the armrest dividing the two seats in the back of the car. What would he say? He probably wouldn't have said anything, just walked out as you had done to him. A vibration deep in his chest made a low sound leave him at the realisation you actually played the game his father always had and Steve himself only thought he had.

Fittingly, or unfittingly in his own mind, the door connected to the other seat opened with a click to interrupt the abusive thoughts of his father.

Although pulled out of his mind, Steve didn't glance to see whoever plucked the folder occupying the seat beside him before they climbed in themselves. There was only one person that first and foremost would dare to be in his presence right now. On top of that, also knew he was the only one who didn't need to repeatedly ask for permission to join him.

Not even when he saw the person shift in his peripheral, from simply holding the folder to actually waving it slightly to catch his attention, clearly wanting to ask him a question, did Steve look towards them. Although, he did speak up.

"Not a word, Barnes", the Canine boss raised his fist, so it was levelled with his cheek as he said this. By now, his nails had dug into his palm and there was no question small crescent moons would be dented in his skin.

"Maybe I should've stayed, after all", the sentence was followed by a chuckle, the sound making Steve snap to watch the man sitting beside him.

"Didn't I say you should keep your mouth shut?" The blonde stared at the brunette. Who, unlike earlier, now had pulled his hair into a low bun in the nape of his neck. However, no matter the fury the Canine's cold blue eyes conveyed, Bucky Barnes saw no real threat.

"You often do, but you have so far not put a bullet in me", Bucky shrugged with an easy smile.

The mob boss remained silent as his head bodyguard leaned forwards far enough to knock on the wall beside the still open windshield that could separate the driver from those in the back seat.

"Close it up", Steve honestly thought the brunette would've given the chauffeur, who now had taken his place behind the wheel, directions of where to go. Gauging by his act, he must have done it before getting into the car. Hence, the driver did nothing but nod to signify he heard what the guard said before closing the visor, leaving whatever Steve knew Bucky wanted to talk to him about for only him to hear.

He felt the car rock to a gentle start, the road underneath the vehicle sending small vibrations throughout Steve. Tilting his head, he saw the scenery blur as he didn't concentrate on anything specific they drow by.

Despite the initial silence of the car ride, the blonde saw how the man beside him shifted, angling his body just slightly more his way. The minimal change of where Bucky attention laid told the mob boss he would initiate a conversation. And as on a cue, Bucky spoke. "So what happened? 'Cause clearly you scared half of your squad enough for them to want to take a week off".

He didn't redirect his gaze, fearing that his now fisted hand would connect with his friend's jaw if he didn't control himself. What happened? The question taunted in his mind, enough so that Steve clenched his jaw. Everything that shouldn't have happened.

"You have the folder", he gritted out, continuing to aimlessly stare out of the window, now concentrating on how the scenery changed from the narrow streets the nightclub had been located in to instead manifest the glittering sunset reflecting off the water in East River.

Beside him, he felt how Bucky shifted and shortly afterwards came the sounds of papers starting to be turned over. The head guard sat silent as he read the contract that not even the Canine had looked through.

The lack of verbal confirmation of Steve's evident loss in this meeting spurred the blonde, whether he wanted or not, to glance at the brunette.

Bucky's brows were furrowed. Consequently causing the grooves on his forehead, which always appeared when he pondered something, to become extremely visible. His features remained this way as his eyes scanned over the rows stitching together the contract. Then, for some reason, they changed.

From an expression showing the brunette tried to fathom the situation that had made Steve considerably harsher to anyone in his close vicinity, his face now fell and a smirk began to toy with his lips. On top of this, he let out a low whistle turning to the next page.

The smouldering anger in Steve's chest flared up to the same intensity it had burned with earlier. Back when he had sat in silence and glared at the folder inside the club. He ground his teeth together, feeling how they caught in each other's pointy edges.

"What?" He demanded to know what the man all of a sudden found so entertaining. Yet, the answer didn't come immediately. Instead, Bucky sat there with the same expression pinning his face while finishing the document in his grip.

Not until the brunette had closed the binder and waved it similarly to how he'd done when entering the car did his gaze meet Steve's. His eyes, also blue but slightly greyer in colour, was crinkled in the corners. The amusement, or whatever caused the mob boss nostrils to flare in agitation, was only further displayed by the shake of his head.

"She's good".

"What?" Bucky almost hadn't finished his nearly wordless reply before Steve barked his requirement of an explanation.

"Whether you want to admit it aloud or not, I know you think about it in that analysing brain of yours", the brunette begun, pushing the folder underneath the mob boss' arm on the armrest. Steve, who followed the act with disdain, shuffled in his seat directly afterwards so he wouldn't be touching the contract which you formerly had been carrying around.

Watching the blonde's action, Bucky only continued, now even less worried his words might be wrong and evoke further anger from the Canine. Of course, he might still get mad, though Bucky knew he at least was right. "She is good, Steve. If not shown by this contract, which I suggest you read, then at least how she's gotten to you".

The blonde man elected to ignore the last part of his bodyguard's sentence. Hence, only questioning the first part. "Why should I read it?"

Arrogance was a trait many shared once someone stepped on their pride, but never had Bucky witnessed such amounts of it exhibited by the Canine boss. His nose twitched in the corner as if the mere thought of opening the papers offended him. The mistrust in his voice showed he didn't believe what just was advised to him, nor that the words of you being competent could be true. All signs of denial, a damaged pride.

"Sometimes I wondered how you even could've come this far to rebuild your father's empire when you're so stubborn to see the truth at times", the comment made Steve cock his head.

"Is that a threat or a call for resignation, I hear?" Bucky simply rolled his eyes and turned to fully face the man, now giving him his undivided attention.

"I may have been here from the day you called me and asked me to join your plans, but believe me, working outside this world for some time, especially in the field I was in, you learn to see who is good at their job and not".

Although Bucky had known Steve ever since they were kids, essentially because their fathers had been partners when the Canine empire was worth more than its own power in gold, the two had fallen out of the regular touch they'd kept after Joseph had passed. Steve had remained close to his mother. While Bucky returned to have both his feet in the ordinary world.

His name had never been brought into the discussion of conviction or any kind of youth crimes, essentially thanks to his father never being proven guilty of the few charges raised against him. Another favour his old man thanked the former Canine boss for. For Bucky, it made things easy to find live his life as if he didn't know what went on underneath the city he walked in.

He went to school, took a degree in law. Which his father before passing as well, considered humorous. Though, Bucky didn't start working directly even if offered jobs. He'd been young and not really knowing which direction he would go. He had no mothers footsteps to follow, seeing how she'd passed before he even had a memory of her. His father shoes still felt too big to fill, so he decided to follow a path he felt natural.

Bucky joined the army. Not more than a few years and two trips. Nevertheless, it was easy pocket change concerning two factors. His father had urged him to take the same martial art classes as Steve's father had done to him. He'd also lived with one foot in the syndicate and the other outside during his whole childhood. The concept of order, planning and warfare wasn't anything alarmingly new to him.

Then he'd begun to explore more, starting to step into the low tier position as an intern at different firms. It was easy to get in, concerning his degree and quickly, he gained enough working experience to get a promotion. His former boss at the advocate company may have thought Bucky was a natural talent or a genius from school. But, it was all thanks to his upbringing he possed the requirements a higher position demanded.

It's mainly thanks to his years working within the judiciary before reconnecting with Steve and began working as his head guard Bucky knows you fall into the group of people who are good at what you do.

The blonde had sat silent this whole time, never breaking away from Bucky's stare. It made the brunette believe that his friend would settle whatever resent he had towards you personally and at least read through the arrangement you assembled for the greater of his empire. Apparently, he was wrong.

"But now you're not working with that anymore", Bucky actually let out a low scoff of annoyance.

"I'm working as a head personal guard for someone I'm swaying on keeping alive at the moment, I know. And I do this because we both know I'm better at the combat part than you, ever since we were kids", despite the jab, it was the mention of how the man, despite being roughly the same size as Steve, always had been slightly better at fighting then himself that made the blonde bite his inner cheek. "I also know that I'm still damn good at what used to be my former profession. Which, you actually also should know concerning you never shoo me out of the room when discussing with your official advisors of the plans to come", when he finally ended the point he wanted to prove, he cocked a brow at Steve, who now had furrowed his brows.

Bucky saw the ire still lingering in the blondes' eyes, making them go cold rather than warm. Nevertheless, he said nothing. The Canine boss simply gave the folder, which hadn't moved from its settlement no matter how much the two men gently had rocked with the turns of the car, one last glare before he altogether turned away as much as his seat let him.

The head bodyguard was close to letting the comment of how similar the mob boss, who'd made a name for himself lately of being indifferent to everything standing in his way, was to a rebellious child. Yet, in the end, he didn't, knowing the car ride would become even more atrocious than it already was set to be.

As suspected, the whole drive from the club to the luxurious hotel, where the Canine boss' next stop was, went by in complete silence. And, when they finally pulled up outside the building, the car had almost not stopped before Steve opened the door without a word. The brunette couldn't but let out a huff and follow the man out of the vehicle.

As Bucky tracked a few steps behind the blonde mob boss, he nodded to a few of the other bodyguards to follow as well. Whatever he might have remarked about considering to keep Steve alive was very much said as a dig at the moment to remind the man he might be written as his subordinate, but he was true to nature working side by side with him. After all, Steven was his friend and Bucky didn't desire to get his blood on his hands.

When the little party of Canines neared the entrance, both men stationed on each side of the doors opened them without further ado. Either they thought Steve looked like someone fitting to live here, or they could've been paid to do so. The brunette figured it was the latter concerning the overall safety measures, not only this hotel but the district in general upheld. Although, he didn't question it way too much as he now concentrated on the slightly denser crowd of people in the lobby.

Not only did they blend in quite well, concerning the people living at this hotel was flanked by at least two bodyguards each. Bucky also noticed how some of the former rigidity in Steve's shoulder lessened as he weaved through the lobby.

Though anyone else may find it excellent that the physical aspect of the blondes former irritation trickled off, it unsettled Bucky even further. Thus, having grown up with Steve, he knew that the silent seething anger was worse than the outgoing one. This, in other words, didn't bode particularly well.

However, even though the brunette had a raising suspicion, along with fear, that this visit the mob boss had decided to do after his meeting with you wouldn't have a good outcome, he had no chance to voice his worry. Essentially because the elevator they'd taken to reach the floor they were heading to now stopped.

Bucky was first to exit the elevator. Checking that the coast was clear before looking back to the Canine boss. He tried making the blonde meet his gaze, now seriously doubting if Steve was fit to meet the partner he'd had an escalating problem with the past weeks. Yet, the blue-eyed man kept his attention straight forward and didn't even spare his childhood friend a glance.

A thousand things were running through Steve's mind as he headed down the corridor, spotting the door his business partner was on the other side of.

He knew Bucky tried gaining his attention with the repetitive looks he threw his way. His most entrusted bodyguard and friend could read him like an open book. Thus knowing the silent facade that he'd put up was just that, a facade. Still, he continued to ignore him as he'd done ever since their conversation was over half an hour ago.

As the party stopped before the door, Steve decided to give the inclining nod to one of his other guards to step forwards and knock on the door.

Following three rapid knocks, a call of 'no cleaning' followed by a similar set of knockings later, footsteps could be heard near the door from the other side. A few seconds after, the door swung open, revealing a man currently trying to fasten his cufflinks.

"I said I didn't...". Even though the brunette's eyes had been cast down as he'd began to speak, the second they flickered up to watch, what the man must have assumed would be a hotel maid but rather was the Canine mob boss, he trailed off in his sentence.

"Good day Mr Jefferson", if the man's body hadn't already gone rigid, his shoulders bounced up even closer to his ears after Steve's greeting.

In a hurried attempt to smarten up, he completed his attempt of fastening the jewellery pin.

"Mr Rogers", he breathed out almost shakily while pulling a hand through his hair, some of the strands sticking to his scalp while others simply fell forwards once more. "Why do I owe the pleasure?"

Without answering, Steve stepped forwards, forcing the man to open the door wider.

As he walked into the pad, the blonde gazed around it uninterestingly. It was lavish. Probably like most rooms were in the hotel.

"I'm here to talk with you". Steve answered his associates question the second he heard the door closed. Taking the liberty, he sat down in the couch group occupying a vaster portion of the entry room's space. "Sit", with a wave of his hand, the Canine motioned to the sitting place at the other side of the dark oak table.

Jefferson, who glanced warily at the guards that had stationed themselves around the room -one by the window, another two directly behind Steve and the last lingering by the door out to the corridor- had no other choice than to follow the mob boss' directions.

Sitting down at the edge of the seat, he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"How's business going?" The mob boss asked as he leaned against the couches backrest. One arm was slung over the ridge, fingers tapping against the material, while his other hand rested on his thigh.

"Bussines is going well".

"Good, always nice to hear companies you invest in are going strong", Steve hummed, noticing the minimal shift Jefferson did as he said this. "How's my money going?"

"Ah... t-that question is a little more complicated...".

Even though the brunette continued to ramble about all the different reasons his payments were late, or not even that, non-existing, the Canine boss didn't listen. He knew he was being screwed over by the man opposite him. He'd gotten the information weeks ago that the CEO of the company he's worked with since the beginning of the year wanted to change sides.

At first, it had been more of a rumour and he hadn't been able to dig up where Jefferson's company was heading. Then it became clear they would switch partners to one of the other godfather's around New York. However, even if Steve thought he didn't like how they tried doing so in the shadows while still upholding their deal, the worst thing was when he got to know who they shifted their alliance to. You.

Seeing how much unfavourable publicity you'd given his empire in the last few months was aggravating. However, listening to the man talking his ear off as if Steve hadn't already figured why exactly fifteen percentages of the profit capital was rolling into your account instead of his was the last drop.

Without even noticing it himself, Steve's hand that had rested upon his thigh raised and were tucked into his suit.

The metal handle he gripped wasn't cold anymore, not after having rested so close to his heart for over an hour. Nor did it get cooled down as he hastily pulled it out of its holster and aimed it at the man opposite him.

"I don't like rats, Landon", the use of the man's first name rather than surname would've made him quiet if the gun aimed his way already hadn't silenced him. "Pray you don't get reborn as one in your next life as well".

On the firearm, a silencer was mounted. So the characteristic bang sounded much more like a pop. Therefore, the noise of the gun was even less intimidating than the ricochet. However, neither of the telltale signs of a shot made Steve flinch, not even as he watched the bullet penetrate the space in-between his former associate's eyes, did he react.

As the mob boss stood, Jefferson's upper body slumped forward, hitting the table with a heavy thud and ugly clap as his head was the first thing that connected with it. No tears were trickling down his cheeks. Only a red streak that steadily created a near-invisible puddle on the mahogany table.

"Steve!" The silence and peace Steve found in watching the body was cut short by Bucky's voice.

The Canine glanced to his side, regarding how his head bodyguard rounded the couch and stood before him with one single step.

"What the fuck was that?" The brunette exclaimed, hand motioning to the dead body.

If any other person than Bucky would've done the same thing in this instance, they either would've ended up joining peaceful Mr Jefferson, or they wouldn't work within the Canine empire anymore. However, concerning that it now was his childhood friend staring at him in disbelief, Steve made sure none of the options was carried through.

"Problem-solving", Steve answered, about to take a step forwards but were stopped with a hand planting itself on his chest. He looked down before looking up with a cocked eyebrow.

"That ain't how we solve shit!"

"Not we, but I", Steve said, gripping Bucky's wrist, ripping it away from him. "You see, now both our problems are solved. He doesn't need to fear his cover being blown and I don't need to lose more money". That was all Steve said before taking a step around the brunette, whose eyes had narrowed considerably.

As most of his colleagues trailed after their boss, Bucky stayed back just a second longer, looking at the lifeless body giving a new sheen to the table whilst staining the carpet underneath. He'd known Steve had taken your conference badly and he also knew it hadn't been a good idea to have this appointment so shortly afterwards, especially when it was connected to you, but in such a different way. Still, he hadn't believed it would take this much of a turn.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Damn that fucking thing!" Steve roared, not thinking when he swept his hands over his desk. Everything from pencils, an empty coffee cup and other things crashed to the floor. However, it wasn’t solely that which now was littering the ground. The papers of your contract had flown out of the folder as well.

Staring down at the mess of shattered glass and paper from his standing position. The Canine boss felt a sneer enter his features. Ever since returning home late last night, he'd been locked inside his study. Primary because it was the place no one dared to disturb him in, but also because he didn't feel like arguing with Bucky.

He knew that after the stunt, as he knew his friend and bodyguard would label his approach to the Jefferson problem, the brunette wanted to speak with him. Yet, with the residue anger of not only a restless night, one Steve had powered through thanks to copious amounts of coffee. But also the subject now taunting him on the floor, a conversation with his right-hand man would lead nowhere.

He and Bucky didn't often get into fights, but Steve was convinced this was one of the matters that could force such a confrontation. He'd still not gathered his bearings enough to admit that he needed to yield. Because that was what he would need to do.

The mob boss switched from watching the scattered pieces of the contract to instead stare straight into the oaken surface of his desk as he now leant on it, knuckles turning white from how strongly he held the countertop. By now, he'd read through the four-page agreement. Something that was a step in the right, or in Steve's regard wrong, direction.

He didn't want to admit it. But as Bucky had mentioned yesterday, it was a top-certified contract. He couldn't find any loopholes. No grey-zones. No area that he could play you on.

Steve knew that you would be hard to crack, but he hadn't anticipated this.

Despite knowing that you and the Felina empire had overtaken his father's grip on New York, he had underestimated you. A woman running the empire you did was so uncommon he thought you would have some weak spot regarding how you had no one else to look up to. Nor did you have any previous family connections to the underworld. Which honestly made your success even more astonishing. 

Almost so much it was questionable if you had done it yourself.

Steve had assumed you hadn't. Someone else must be the brain behind the operation, simply using you as a puppet. However, it seemed he'd made a tremendous mistake by assuming just that. It wasn't anyone else running your empire. You were involved in every little part of the well-oiled machine.

Once more, the canine boss let out an irritated noise, sounding more like a growl than a harsh sigh in his own ears.

He pushed off from the countertop and, in one motion, had side-stepped his chair. Now, with the room behind him, Steve stared out of the windows lining the wall furthest from the entrance. His arms had crossed over his chest and remained there as he stared out at the bay not far away.

Ferries and other boats travelled the waters. Breaking the tension and creating small waves. If it wasn't for this, it almost would've looked like they travelled through the city. Regarding how not only New York's but also Brooklyn's dusk lightning reflected in the water.

When the Canine boss finally felt the sight before him lessened the tension in his shoulders, a knock came from the door.

If his features ever had lightened, the sound immediately beckoned a furrow to take its place. Even more so when the door opened without him having given the person on the other side permission.

He knew who it was, Bucky.

"What do you want?" Steve's voice was cold, harsh. 

"I want to speak with you", instantly, the mob boss noticed how his friend's voice didn't carry that joyous tone when he spoke to him as just that, friends. Bur rather the more levelled one, the professional one.

"I won't speak about Jefferson".

"Neither is that why I'm here", glancing over his shoulder upon hearing the rustle of paper, the Canine boss saw his guard pick up the pieces of the contract from the floor. He arranged them before putting them back into the folder. Contrary to how Steve would've caused the map to give away a whack when flinging it onto his desk. Bucky's hand followed through the whole movement. His fingers even resting upon the grey folder as it laid placid on the middle of the counter.

"I'm here to talk about the real problem", Steve turned to face the brunette. He didn't say anything. Still, Bucky knew that having gotten this much attention was a sign he either was about to be shot or given a limited amount to talk.

"I know this is hard for you, Steve... actually scratch that, it is hard for everyone who's supported you. But I'll be damned if you let everything we've worked for go to waste because you don't have it in you to lose a battle in favour of winning a later war"

All of a sudden, Bucky's face twisted as an unexpected crash echoed. His fist had smashed onto the table. Enough for the countertop to rattle.

“I love to give you the most personal advice I've ever had”, he started, not even holding back his pent up frustration. “Sign that fucking contract, pal". The canine boss' blue eyes narrowed as he met the stormy grey ones of the man before him.

"Get out", Bucky clenched his jaw and straightened himself.

"I'll be waiting for the call to come and pick it up", was the last thing the brunette said before swiftly turning on his heel and heading to the door.

Steve followed his oldest friend with his eyes until the door echoes shut behind him. Even after Bucky's footsteps were long gone, did the Canine boss stare forward. He did it simply because he didn't want to let his eyes flicker down to the contract, now turned to the last page where the paper waited for his signature.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A day later, Steve still stared at the folder resting un-signed on his desk. It was out of pure spite he hadn't signed it. To keep your victory at bay.

Two days later and he felt how the clock on his wall ticked louder than before. How the voices in his head escalated from whispering to shouting at him. 'Sign that fucking contract, pal.'

Three days later and Steve felt how time was running out.

Even if he didn't want to admit it aloud. To not sign would be foolish. Sure, he had the resources to continue this war. Hence, the short extra time the meeting and his delay in signing the contract had abled him to recoup. But still, his empire was lacking a significant piece his father's syndicate had, time. He needed more time to grow but wasn't given that. So yes, he could continue this battle, but he could not win it.

Therefore the mob boss gripped the pen and pressed the ink dipped tip to the dotted line.

His signature was darker than usual. More colour bleeding onto the paper. The curves of the letters were not as smooth as regular either. Instead, straighter, pointier. Forced.

Steve didn't look at his name shining back at him once he raised the pen and put it back in its stand. Instead, Steve stood and dialled a number on his phone. One tone was all it took before the person on the other end picked up.

"Get it out of my sight, Barnes", was all he said before instantly hanging up. The call had lasted four seconds. Even so, Steve deleted it from the history of his 'latest' list.

Shoving the phone into his pockets, the blonde man stood from his chair and headed to the office doors. He didn't look back once at the folder left behind on his desk. Not even when he closed the doors behind him.

Series taglist: @njrronaldo7​ @fanfic-love-show​ @gabycamargo22​ @fckdeusername​

[illumilu]

“there’s only one bed” - chrollo lucilfer x reader

a/n: a very stereotypical cliche for fanfics, but, yk what? cringe is heavily underappreciated. so here, have my drabbling of what would happen if you were to spend an unwanted night in the same hotel bed as the adultrio. for the last part, we’re taking a look at chrollo lucilfer! also! this may suck!

summary: you arrive at the hotel with chrollo, your childhood friend and colleague, but to your horror (wink wink), there’s only one bed. this is part three of a three-part series, with the adultrio. hisoka and illumi are already written so i suppose that concludes the series!

warnings: no particular trigger warnings, lowercase intended, a lot of fluff! and cuddling! chrollo being his usual self, charming but kinda dead ,,, except this time he’s not using you (cough neon nostrade) ... no nsfw :)

chrollo lucilfer:

- chrollo lucilfer was an undeniably enticing man.

- you two had just exited the train station, and were now walking to your hotel. 

- why had this trip been planned? well, chrollo had bought reservations, claiming he “had something private to say” one night. honestly, he made you nervous sometimes. just what you expected from the leader of an internationally renowned murder gang.

- the refreshing cold air chilled your face, as you walked along the damp pavement. the large, multistory hotel loomed in the distance, like an upright torch in a sea of gray. you turned to look at chrollo. 

- “it’s cold, isn’t it?” 

- “astounding observation.” he smiled audaciously.

- growing up alongside them hadn’t been easy for you; after all, meteor city was dilapidated. after leaving the place, you had found the estimated population to be around 8 million people. funnily enough, it had never felt like that many.

- you still remembered the day chrollo had formed the phantom troupe. you had watched as he set out the rules standing proudly on the trash-pile; as he described the metaphorical spider and its immortality. 

- personally, you hated spiders. too many legs.

- either way, you stayed there, listening, observing - you had seen them running around the city before, laughing and playing together. how could people be so happy in such an obscure place? 

- meteor city; it was almost... suffocating. the fact that no one acknowledged the residents, even as a collective percentage, chilled you to your core. you wanted to be known. you guessed that was why you were still alongside chrollo today.

- you supposed the only way to get through the maddening sense of compression was with friendship. alas, you didn’t really have many friends. it was always hard to find them. therefore, you would check to see what chrollo’s group were doing together, but would never join unless invited.

- that fateful night, the ignition of the troupe; truly a day to remember. 

- as soon as you had turned around from behind some abandoned trash, chrollo had slowly turned to look at you. you had been listening as he mused about the phantom troupe’s intentions. he had personally seen you around the junkyard many times. always watching. waiting for something? no, just observing. here you were, eyes on him, yet again.

- a pause. you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. but it wasn’t humiliating; it was exhilarating. 

- you still remembered the way you had cursed yourself for thinking like that. why had you come out from your hiding place? you didn’t want anything to do with this group; killing people, stealing things, wandering astray from the path of morality... what was this?

- “did you hear everything?” he had asked.

- “yes.” you whispered.

- your eyes lifted to meet his. you knew almost nothing of where that day would eventually lead you. you shared a long stare that night, almost childish, waiting for him to say something. you could swear his eyes were boring into your soul.

- “you don’t want to join, do you?”

- you gulped and looked at the dirt beneath you.

- “no.”

- things had changed since then.

- you had never did end up joining the phantom troupe. it was too chaotic for you. but, you did end up sticking around and, somehow, you came to know each of the troupe members extremely well.

- whenever they’d rendezvous and cause destruction, you’d always be there, observing from the sidelines. chrollo liked to call it your “unofficial bond”. having spent a lot of your time with the interchanging 13, you knew their likes and dislikes, and often helped them out when they couldn’t get information. for some reason, you felt as if chrollo trusted you with this greatly. 

- rarely, you got to spend time with him alone. you two were undoubtedly closer than any other pairs from the troupe, yet it was more of an unspoken connection than a full-blown one. compared to, let’s say, nobunaga and uvogin, and no one would have even speculated chrollo and you being as close.

- nevertheless, you loved when you got to spend time with him; whenever he loosened his idiotic “i’m the leader and we’re going to kill hundreds of people now!” demeanor, he was actually quite the gentleman. 

- back to the present, you scoffed and continued walking; each breath made a little cloud in front of you, making you grin a little. when you were younger, you had always pretended to smoke whenever it was cold enough for it to happen.

- “you’re such a child.” chrollo said, adjusting his beige headband. you often wondered why he decided to get a tattoo on his forehead. troupe matters, you supposed. finally reaching the grand entrance to the hotel, chrollo pushed the gold revolving door, with an ironic “after you” look. you went through hastily, raising an eyebrow at him on the way in.

- the lobby was truly extravagant, full of grandeur that you had never seen before. you could only begin to fathom how much money the troupe got from stealing. 

- honestly, you really felt like smacking chrollo. what right did he have to take you to such a huge place? with his own laundered money? that he probably earned from making someone else’s life hell? you opened your mouth to protest. he promptly interrupted you.

- “be quiet, y/n. you know have money to spend, so why shouldn’t i spend it on you? just this once?”

- that was a lie. he knew he would definitely do something like this again.

- your mouth closed, knowing the same thing. you sighed momentarily and went off to sit on a weirdly smooth velvet couch in the lobby.

- while absentmindedly checking in, chrollo began thinking about what exactly he was going to say to you. truthfully, there was no real reason for him bringing you here, to the hotel. it was just, lately, he had been feeling strangely drawn to you. you had a certain warm magnetism that contrasted his philosophical coldness. whenever you sat together, he felt some sort of strange exaltation, just by looking at you. whenever you smiled, he couldn’t help but smile back. he had also become considerably happier.

- “wow, boss~ you seem jokier these days~”

- the thought of hisoka made him wince, driving him back to the clerk in front of him. 

- as he stared back at you, who was currently trying to figure out whether you could take the hotel magazines for free, he closed his eyes and let out a light breath. 

- you jolted as chrollo stood before you, tapping you on the shoulder. loosening your grip on the cheap magazine, you glared at him. 

- “keys.” he said, dangling them above you.

- “chrollo. don’t tell anyone. but i think have a plan.” 

- “what? y/n, y-”

- you grinned, grabbed the keys and started towards the stair doors, yanking chrollo’s sleeve along with you. he ran behind you, making quite the commotion as you two thundered up the switchback stairs, shoes scuffing along the floor. through ragged breaths and giggles, he asked you why in god’s name you were going so fast.

- stopping abruptly to catch your breath, you told him to look at your hands, with an impish look on your face.

- the hotel magazine, crumpled in your hands.

- he furrowed his brow at you, laughing confusedly at your antics. you often helped him unwind with your spontaneous, stupid acts, and he was grateful for it. chrollo was someone who didn’t recognize how much they needed a break until they got one. he truly enjoyed how you just treated him as a normal person. since you weren’t part of the troupe, he wasn’t your “boss”. he supposed he was your... friend.

- you slowly made your way up to the room with him. despite him being unnervingly annoying sometimes, you enjoyed every moment with chrollo. every look you shared with him, every joke you had made.

-  even when he was being serious you couldn’t help but admire his twisted resolve. often, you’d brush hands and sparks of ecstasy would rush to your heart. you guessed that was what happened when people were close. but what was “close”? you often found yourself mulling over the classifications of love, even if it wasn’t specifically about him. of course, you could love someone as a friend; what was romance, anyways?

- if there was one thing you had in common with chrollo, it was your interest in human emotion.

- chrollo had always been fascinated by the human psyche; so much so that it seemed like he knew what people were about to say before they even uttered a word. he too found himself musing over love; occasionally, you two would sit together and debate where each emotion stemmed from.

- however, no matter how equal you were, chrollo could always predict what you were about to say, never vice versa. he chalked it down to knowledge and experience, yet he found it ironic that emotions were his interest. he speculated the reason for it, and once, very wisely, said that “humans are always interested in what they do not have.”

- you reached the room fairly quickly, roused from the race up the stairs. half of you had already forgotten about what chrollo “wanted to tell you”; he opened the door and walked in first.

- “hey, wait out here for a second, i have a surprise.” he said, closing the door so it was only jarred open a little.

- nodding, you turned around, waiting in the lit hallway.

- chrollo turned to look at the room.

- wait.

- shit.

- a singular queen-sized bed stood in the middle of the room. 

- chrollo blinked.

- he could have sworn he asked for two twin beds. blinking a few more times, beginning to sweat a little, he jolted as your voice came from the door; “chrollo, is it ready?”

- “no, not yet, stay there!” he shouted, pacing towards the hotel phone, frantically dialling room service.

- “hello?”

- “good evening. how may we help you?”

- “yeah, uh, so you see, i’m in room 444 and i definitely, most certainly booked two beds, not one - would you mind checking?”

- “no problem! it says here that you booked one queen sized bed, with two reservations. are you sure you didn’t misclick? perhaps the room was booked by someone else?”

- suddenly, chrollo remembered; shalnark did all his computer work. that bloody, meddling... no, he shouldn’t say that. he had nothing but gratitude for all the troupe members. some were very, very, very difficult to like, however.

- “are there any spare rooms around?”

- “yes, of course! but moving will cost around-”

- “chrollo?” you interrupted, peeking around the doorframe. 

- you blinked. 

- the bed was... larger... and more... singular than expected.

- “y/n! there’s been a mistake... just; bear with me, okay? everything will be fine. i just need to pay a-”

- darting to where he was, you grabbed the phone and slammed it back onto the receiver. you grabbed chrollo by the shoulders, shaking him violently (rather dramatically, too).

- “what do you think you’re doing? i tell you to stop spending money on me, and here you are, spending the money you got from murdering people?” 

- you did not like the idea of sleeping in the same bed as chrollo one bit. however, you hated the idea of having him use his dark money on you way more. here he was, about to spend it on a simple matter. the persistent bastard.

- “whatever you say.” he murmured.

- “look, just think of it as a fun sleepover. no need for things to be awkward.”

- you were right. nothing would happen. childish as you were together, both of you knew boundaries. despite the recent appeal you had to him, he knew that your comfort was more important than anything.

- both agreeing to get some sleep, you changed into more comfy clothes and met back at the bed. 

- something you often overlooked was how pretty chrollo was. grayish-brown pupils that, to the gullible eye, seemed neutral and boring, but to you seemed like a world of wonder and speculation. his eyelashes seemed almost delicate, unaware of how beautiful they were. his lips always looked cold, with a reddish tinge, yet somehow fit harmoniously with the rest of his features. it was no secret that his muscles were extremely defined, as you had seen whenever he wore his coat. somehow, his skin was smooth and pale all over, not comparable to porcelain, but better; it had the duality to glow with pride or to appear a solemn gray. his hands were almost never without a book, yet when they were occupied with something else, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his elegant fingers. his hair, admittedly odd when slicked back, wisped across his face, fluffy as always. your eyes riveted on his.

- “what did you want to tell me?”

- shit. in the heat of all the issues, he had forgotten to think of something.

- what did he want to tell you? everything about himself, honestly. who he was, what he wished to do, his own personality, his philosophies. the dilemma was, he did not know himself. 

- who am i?

- the pressing question that bugged him so, that tugged at his sleeve like a child he wished he could ignore. the word that fit chrollo best was, “enigma”. he truly wanted to find himself, but what did that even mean? he spent his life growing from nothing, becoming nothing and, despite having the largest reputation in the world, still feeling like nothing. yet, it was something that was locked within you that opened him. the buzz of emotion he had felt from you; that had been something. pride and happiness were good, all in all, but you defined him. you gave him something to live for. of course, chrollo still stood by death as if it was an old companion, but some tiny part of him would feel remorse if he ever died. remorse for leaving you behind. that had never happened with anyone else. the closer he became to you, the more he had a meaning. he contemplated; were you his meaning? two souls meant to be intertwined? 

- “y/n.”

- “hm?”

- “love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. do you know who wrote this?”

- a silence met the air.

- “it was william shakespeare. a midsummer night’s dream.” he continued. “yet i wonder, what would one do if they had no mind? if love looks with the mind, yet had nowhere to look from, how would it see?”

- somewhere within you, you sensed he was talking about something very relevant. 

- love would find a way. it would shoot from every outlet it could, from one soul to another; love would find a way to reach someone. conscienceless or aware, love would perpetuate through every single molecule left in someone’s resolve. two ribbons that were meant to find each other would undoubtedly find each other if they their love was strong enough. that is what you thought as you sat there with him, mutually mulling over the question.

- “i think it would find a way, wouldn’t it?” you said.

- “probably so.”

- “that was random, chrollo?” you questioned after a few still moments.

- “i suppose so... i miss times where we talked about the philosophies of the mind.”

- you nodded. you missed them too, even though they were frequent. you yawned tiredly; it was getting late. chrollo advised you to get some rest, which you quickly heeded. slowly, you headed to the left side of the bed. he took the right.

- “do you mind if i turn off the light?”

- “i think i’ll read for a while.” he smiled. typical.

- you turned to your side, dreams of the awaiting night already outstretching their comforting arms. eventually, you slipped into a peaceful sleep.

- chrollo cocked his head to the side to look at you. he watched your chest rise and fall for a few seconds, before promptly returning to his book. 1984 by george orwell. his eyes skimmed over the page, blurred names and metaphors flying indifferently past his eyes; he wished to find the quote that resonated with him every time he had previously read it.

- bingo. 

- “if you loved someone, you loved him, and when you had nothing else to give, you still gave him love.”

- chrollo had everything to give to you; yet you did not enjoy any of it. he found that you seemed happiest when you just sat together with him, ruminating, or joking or just sitting there in silence. perhaps the only thing he hadn’t tried was the simplest; the most human. maybe the answer to his infatuation with you was right in front of him.

- a few minutes later, he thought it would be best to sleep. closing the lights, he lay there quietly, falling into a passage of thoughts that soon turned sleepy and incoherent.

- the night passed.

- when morning came, things, once again, were different. 

- chrollo was the first to wake up; fluttering his eyelashes, he soon became fully aware of his situation.

- he was on the other side of the bed.

- something was clinging to him.

- chrollo was clinging back.

- oh my god. he felt your arm wrapped low around his waist, with his doing the exact same around yours. almost like... you were mirroring each other. it was like you were hugging, except, when he looked down, you were still fast asleep. 

- shit. this was weird.

- what did he do? he couldn’t just wake you up and cause a commotion; it was him who had thought “nothing would happen”.

- so much for a goddamned “sleepover”.

- your head was buried in the crook of his chin, so you were cuddling into his chest; the bed had been long enough for you to shuffle down and start hugging him? not to mention, somewhere in the night, you had entirely switched places.

- he couldn’t exactly get up to roll you away, either.

- what a conundrum. silently and rather awkwardly, he waited, still embracing you. this definitely made things exponentially more complicated than they needed to be. 

- after around 10 minutes of waiting, you began to stir a little. 

- blinking a few times to clear your vision, you murmured something unintelligible.

- chrollo, about to pull the biggest bastard move of the century, shut his eyes and pretended to sleep.

- what a jackass.

- pushing away from his body, you stared at him, taking a few moments to register the situation.

- and so, your internal panic monologue began, rapid as ever.

- why the SHIT were you in chrollo’s arms not less than 5 seconds ago? and why had it felt undeniably cosy??? did you hug him? did he hug you? of course he was still sleeping. maybe he wouldn’t get to know. why were you on the other side of the bed? did anything happen? no, you would have remembered. you couldn’t roll him over, either. what the shit. 

- chrollo inconspicuously pretended to wake up, theatrical fake blinking and all. 

- “oh.” he stated blankly.

- you scrunched your face; that was the only thing he could say? meanwhile your soul was rapidly disintegrating?

- “chrollo, i have no idea how that-”

- “certainly interesting.” he interrupted.

- the best decision was to leave it. right?

- “huh? what? looooook... i think i’m going to go change...” you said, suppressing your fluctuating heartbeat. 

- chrollo sat up, nodding.

- as you left, you began speculating what to do; because you definitely couldn’t ignore this. when you woke up, you had felt safer, more comfortable. why was that? as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t drop the feeling that chrollo and you were something more than friends.

- chrollo, still on the bed, mulled over the various quotes and lines he had picked up. he ruminated over fond memories with you, and that buzzing feeling from earlier. he noticed it had skyrocketed. he felt... meaningful. bottling up his feelings wouldn’t do any good, would it? he had to say something. but it was dangerous. getting into matters like this may get in the way of the troupe. was it worth it? somewhere, he felt as if he already knew. this matter wasn’t exactly trivial. so, would he do it or not?

- subconsciously reaching for 1984 once more, he flicked past the cover and turned to a well-loved page of his. 

- “at the sight of the words, “i love you”, the desire to stay alive had welled up in him, and the taking of minor risks suddenly seemed stupid.”

- as people usually do at urgent times such as these, he realized what had to be done.

- let’s just say; chrollo’s library began to harbor a lot more romance.

dear reader, i sincerely sincerely apologize if ur here rn. i wrote a wholeass 3554 words and i dont want people wasting their time LMFAO, this was so dumb?? i am SO SO sorry for being inactive for weeks, i’ve had exams, but i kind of felt obligated to finish off this series. which once again. i am so sorry for. this one felt even MORE tedious than the illumi one. i feel like the characterization was poor, even though i tried  ,,, but i guess we all take Ls. i’m gonna just let this one be chalked down to my sleep deprivation and hopefully(?) continue writing. thx <3  

either way, likes or reblogs or whatever are super appreciated, but don’t feel forced to or anything! either way, i feel like no one’s gonna see this with my reach LMAOO but anyways thank you for reading, if you made it here! feedback and tips for writing on here are always helpful :)

[foodieforthoughts]

I Would Do It Again - Nine

Summary: Anya Adams, a troubled soul but fierce on the outside, stumbles over a stranger at a party and ends up sharing more than just her name. She’s in for a whirlwind encounter when he turns out to be her boss. Striking up a deal for pleasure, Anya soon finds herself mixing work and play. For someone who swore off love, would she let the handsome Brit break down her walls?

Pairing: AU Henry Cavill x OFC

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst

A/N: My hubby tested positive for covid yesterday and we are isolating at home. Writing is the only escape I have right now so here is the next part. Thank you to everyone who is following this series, I love you all. 

Divider by @firefly-graphics

| One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve |

Everyone has gone through the dreadful night before starting first day of high school, first day at work or the night before a big presentation. You toss and turn in your bed to get comfortable, but sleep does not come, and you stare at the ceiling trying to count sheep and drift off to a deep slumber. I was experiencing something akin to that nervous jitter.

The clock had kept ticking, the only sound in my apartment cutting the silence of the night. I had stared at the ceiling, watching the fan above circling around lazily. I had kept the window open which blew warm summer breeze inside. My curtains kept flapping with the wind, accompanied by the sounds of Brooklyn nightlife slowly dying out.

I was to go to work tomorrow and face Henry. It had been radio silence on his end, and I had not mustered the courage to contact him. I wanted to meet him personally and attempt an explanation for my behaviour.

The sleepless night that I pulled, did nothing to help me when I reached the office. I had mapped everything out, formed my sentences to say; but now that I was seeing him standing in the lobby of our building, my mind was blank. In a perfectly pressed black suit, Henry stood with his hand inside his pocket, his bag in his hand. I quietly walked up to him and stood to his side with several other people waiting for the elevator.

Henry looked down at me, his face was impassive. Staying calm and my usual demeanour in place, I looked up at him with a smile. When he looked away without any expression in response, I felt something break inside me.

“Good morning?” I weakly asked. I was not sure he was going to reply even, but when he did, I could feel the coldness in his words.

“Yeah, Ms. Adam.”

Ms. Adam, we were back to last name basis. I moved a step away from him, feeling his hostility. I had no intentions to make him uncomfortable and so I stepped away. Contrary to the last time we were in this elevator, we stood on the opposite ends of the closed enclosed space. I glanced at him, but his face was stoic and looking ahead. The muscle in his jaw moved as he clenched it. I averted my gaze, choosing to look at the lady in front of me.

I spent the better part of my day thinking about what was happening to me. I was worrying myself over a casual hook up. I was thinking too much. I was losing myself.

And so, I stopped.

I busied myself with my work. Stephanie looked at me strangely as I handed her my completed folder of papers she had given me. I smiled at her, before leaving her office. I could not pry away thoughts about Henry even if I knew I was thinking too much over someone who was obviously not bothered.

Henry was standing with a few of his people from his department. He gave them orders and explained to them what was to be done. Macky stood to one side, listening attentively to his boss. I walked back to my desk, paying no more attention to the group.

To think I would regret everything that had happened between Henry and I, everything that had gone wrong; I didn’t. Not anymore. It was better that way, I had decided. I was losing my mind over him and I could not let myself go down that rabbit hole.

***

“You were right,” I looked up from my keyboard and saw Macky with his hands tucked in his pockets. I looked at him questioningly. “I chipped the idea to the boys about inviting Henry to one of our games, they didn’t mind.”

I shrugged my shoulders and went back to typing on the keyboard. After the dreadful Monday morning at the office with Henry, I had effectively blocked him out. I knew I was getting too invested in him and so I had to be brave for myself.

“I think it will go well. I also pitched the idea that it would be a bonding moment for us.” Macky smiled proudly.

“Good for you guys.”

I tried to be dismissive, but I could feel his eyes on me. Macky and Steph had been letting me have my space. I had immersed myself entirely in work that was handed to me. I had spotted Henry many times throughout the week, I had even endured an entire conference with him.

It was a closed conference with the Execs discussing about the plan for the coming financial year. Steph had taken a day off, her morning sickness was getting worse, so in place of her I sat beside Johanna.

Henry had looked handsome in plain black shirt and grey trousers. Johanna’s crush was becoming evident to the entire office now. Apparently, it did not matter if Henry were to date Johanna. They were in an equal position in the office which meant they would not violate any company policy if they decided to go down that road.

I had jotted down whatever Johanna wanted me to for Stephanie to follow the next day. I had tried to avoid looking at Henry, his blue eyes that shone like the brightest sapphires with the sunlight casting inside from the open windows. But it was difficult to avoid looking at someone who was sitting right in front of you.

“-although he said he might be a little busy tonight.”

I looked up at Macky, completely forgotten that he was still here. “What?”

“Henry, he said he might be busy tonight, for some time. But he said he would see to it that he makes it for the game.”

Today was Friday. A whole week from me running out on him just after sex in his office. There was no way for me to know if he was still up to the whole Friday set up I had in place for us, but it seemed like too big of a co-incidence to occur on the same day.

Post lunch, I found myself fidgeting in my chair having lost all of my concentration. Henry had been unaffected by my presence in the conference. For one split second our eyes had met but both of us had averted our gaze not a moment later. It did feel like he was guarding himself too. I had been cold-hearted towards him and he was only doing what we had agreed upon.

No strings attached meant, no feelings.

I had been the one to push Macky towards the idea of including him with them. I had been brutal that day but now I was making amends for my actions. Even though Henry had no idea about it.

So, I made my way to his office. Unlike the times when I had come knocking at his door only when the floor was cleared, I was here with more than two hours of office time left. His PA, Jasmine, looked shocked to see me.

“Anya?” She asked, her front teeth sticking to her bottom lip when she closed her mouth.

“I need to speak to Mr. Cavill.” Formality, I had to maintain the decorum. He was after all a senior executive with me being just another assistant. Jasmine nodded her head and rung her boss inside.

My mood was becoming sour with the passing seconds.

“You can go in.” She smiled. I noticed the red of her lipstick stick to her teeth but for some reason did not bother addressing it. I had other things that had to be taken care of.

When I walked inside the door, the determination to talk to Henry vaporized in an instant. I had unintentionally missed him throughout the day, hadn’t spotted him in the break room or walking about in the foyer. Looking at him now, in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, it made my heart beat faster.

I had seen him last Friday with tired eyes and sombre smile. But today he looked tough, his eyes held an authority, and his face was stern. He had his back against his chair, slightly turned towards the side facing the windows. I gulped as the words disappeared before even forming in my mouth.

“Ms. Adam, what is-”

“I can’t make it today.”

He blinked, his lips stopping from finishing his sentence. The seconds that stretched between us felt like eons long. He sat up a little, his hands coming up to be placed on the table. His eyes searched mine and that one muscle in his jaw twitched.

I was waiting for him to grill me about the reason for cancelling, but he stayed silent. I swallowed as my throat felt constricted and a bead of sweat was beginning to trickle on the side of my forehead. Suddenly, the room felt smaller and the air heavy. Henry looked to the side and then back at me.

I shuddered slightly when his cerulean eyes bore into mine. His gaze fiercer, his lips tight and his jaw clenched. Henry looked menacing, more like I was hanging on his last nerve.

He took a sharp breath. “Is that all?” His voice was harsh and unforgiving.

“Uh… yeah.” I looked at the floor, ignoring his eyes following my movements. “I’ll-I’ll leave now. Thank you.”

I did not dare look at him again. He seemed to be clenching his jaw and in the silence of his office, I could hear his deep breathing. I turned quickly and left with my clammy palms and sweat finally trickling down the side of my forehead.

This needed to stop.

***

This needed to stop.

Like a mantra, I kept repeating it to myself.

My favourite gourmet restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen was bustling on Sunday night. Patrick, the host, was an acquaintance through Alexis. I had dined here pretty much every alternate night while studying in NYU. It was my go-to place, despite the steep prices and the usual rush.

Seeing that the main dining area was crowded, I had decided to take a seat outside in the open. Looking out into the busy streets of the district, I felt strangely calm inside. The summer heat was beginning to mellow down in the evenings, with an overcast sky once in a while. Autumn was about to come soon which was reminded by mother nature by throwing a gentle breeze occasionally.

I was also feeling a bit uneasy with the fact that Henry’s apartment was somewhere in the area. I wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the location of his residence on a map, but I remembered hailing a cab down to somewhere on the 10th Avenue. Even the thought of being in proximity to where he lived, made a gentle shiver run along my body.

When the waiter left with my order, I decided to scroll through my phone to keep myself distracted. New York was a huge city, but the world was never too big to run into someone. A tiny part of my brain wanted to see Henry outside work, somewhere casual, like this restaurant or maybe out on the streets. I wanted to see him raw and not primed like he always was. I wanted to see him vulnerable…

I heavily sighed and sat back on my chair. The pubs lined across the restaurant had groups of young people laughing and enjoying the summer night out in the city. Some of them had their Varsity Jackets on, wearing the emblem of their colleges proudly.

To think that not even half a decade ago, I was in a group like them. Our friends hanging out at a pub or a bar, cheering on for a club we supported and chugging down beer like our liver was made out of steel. Most of all, it was our group of friends and us-Jake and I, the couple who had stood the test of time and the expanse of East Coast to West Coast.

The first time I had been to this restaurant was our first ever date night in New York. I had finally arrived to join Jake here at NYU, going against all odds and sticking with him when we were states apart. We had sat on the table right next to the window overlooking the bustling streets where he had told me how happy he was that I was here now.

Riding on a memory, I looked at the same window. Our table was now occupied by a family of four, having their dinner with joyfulness around. It hurt me to think how often I showed up at this restaurant even after Jake had left. Even now I felt like I was holding onto that faint sliver of memory. I couldn’t even remember the smell around us now, I could not hear his laugh ringing in my ears.

The vibration from my phone, jolted me from my reverie. If it hadn’t been for the message that were popping up one after the other, I would have stared at the family through the window, probably, eventually, creeping them out. Thankfully, the interruption to my thoughts were much welcomed because my eyes had begun stinging with the unshed tears.

‘Everyone loved Henry’ Macky’s text spelled out in bold. It was followed by various emojis one after another. ‘He was with us right from the pre-game discussions to the end. He even stayed for the celebratory shots of victory!’

I could deal with Macky fangirling over his boss, Henry was special that way. But when he sent an attached picture of all of them at the bar, huddled together with their tongues out and beer bottles in their hands, I couldn’t help but smile.

Henry was visibly drunk. His face was flushed, and his hair was sticking to his forehead. The heat in the bar and possibly the adrenaline rush from their team winning, had brought out the ‘bro’ in him. In a plain dark t-shirt, he looked so young and so happy. Even having seen him two days ago, it seemed like I was looking at him after years.

“Excuse me,” the kind waiter came over with my dinner. He smiled at me and placed the plate of shrimp fried rice. I thanked him but was distracted with a familiar laugh from a few paces away from me. I turned towards the sound, dreading the feeling of finding out who it was.

How tiny was this world to have to run into him and her?

Johanna laughed animatedly next to a smiling Henry. He was saying something, his lips moving with the words, but his voice did not travel up to me. In stark contrast to his casual attire in the picture, which was still open on my screen, he was dressed in navy-blue linen shirt and dark slacks. His hair was unkempt like he had been running his hand through his hair or the wind had messed it up. Johanna looked like the woman that could compliment him, her maroon dress coming up to just above her knees and the fabric sticking to her body and highlighting all the best places. She looked like she was just the woman made for him.

I looked down at my table as they made their way over to the restaurant. They were coming right this way and I was seated outside. I tried to be as small as I could make myself, wanting to disappear right then.

Henry was out with Johanna. He was here for dinner. He was with her. He had probably decided to go out on the date that Mary had told us about in the cafeteria. Maybe he was giving into the advances because…

“Anya?” Johanna’s unforgettable voice called out to me.

This woman never acknowledged me in the office, but here she was addressing me like I was a human being. I closed my eyes, before looking up and trying to only focus on her. I smiled at her, feigning surprise as best I could.

I also tried to not look at the wide-eyed, dark haired man standing beside her.

“Ms. Washington,” I said, not letting my voice shake. The nervousness from the office the other day was suddenly seeping into me again.

I was hoping she wouldn’t care to come up to my table. I was hoping she wouldn’t talk to me anymore, dismiss me as the annoying assistant she had nothing to do with. But she was in high spirits, her smile etching on her face, creeping me out. Being with Henry might have been a major high for her, for her grin only looked bigger when she walked up to me.

The reluctance in Henry’s steps was evident with the slow paces he took towards me.

“I didn’t know you hang out in Manhattan. Aren’t you from Brooklyn?”

I hated her Upper East Side accent, the emphasis on Brooklyn making me feel even smaller. I was wrong, she wasn’t cherry all of a sudden. She was a vicious, vile, hurtful woman. I wanted to wipe that smile off her face. I could just jump up and kiss Henry and leave her stunted if I wanted to.

And I really wanted to.

Henry chose to stand speechless, with his eyes searching mine. The dryness in my throat was back. Even outside under a canopy, I could feel the air become thicker. He looked like he wanted to convey some kind of message. How he had been smiling at Johanna only a few minutes ago, but now he stood with astonishment all over his face.

I cleared my throat before speaking. “I do…I do live in Brooklyn. Just having my dinner.” I pointed to my plate with a smile.

“Good for you.”

She did not mean it. She desperately wanted me to leave so that she did not have to sit in the same restaurant as someone who worked under her. I could feel the disgust in her voice, I could see her shudder with repulsion. She was a bloody princess in her penthouse, she was my boss in the office; but this was away from all that. And she hated to live in this reality.

She shrugged her shoulder at me, twiddling her long fingers in a wave and walked back to the host’s podium.

Henry smiled at her as she walked past him. He stood in his place with his hands shoved in his pockets. I only stared at him. He had been missing home and now he was out making friends, maybe even potential girlfriends. It bothered me and left me surprised with the way I felt about it.

“Mr. Cavill,” I muttered. It felt weird to address him like this. I was used to screaming his name while being enveloped in him.

It felt weird to be in this position, to be feeling so vulnerable. .

“Anya.” My name sounded like a blessing coming out from his lips. I saw him gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the action. “We are-”

“Don’t keep her waiting.” I interrupted. I did not want to hear what they were. I felt a numbness beginning to travel down my arms. “She doesn’t like to wait.” I tipped my head towards an expectant Johanna standing by the restaurant’s door.

I really didn’t want him to say anything. It was better this way. It was unfortunate to have run into him. I was trying to not think where they would go next, after dinner was done.

With a deep breath, his gaze down to the floor; Henry turned and walked away. The numbness in my hands came like a wave as I watched him walk towards another woman. Like a cruel play on me, my mind decided to think about someone who had walked away from me, just like that. Even then I had been sitting with a plate of my dinner, oblivious to what was about to happen next.

I took a ragged breath and a clenching pain throbbed inside my chest. This place, this setting was mixing with my past and my present. It made me sick.

Like I had been doing several times this week, I left. I left as quickly as Henry and Johanna were out of my sight. I placed my money on the table, grabbed my bag and ran out of the place, fighting to catch my breath.

All the while I kept on repeating that this needed to stop.

[pink-flame]

14 and 69 for Juke 😊

So I’m pretty sure I was only supposed to describe how I would write these combinations but where’s the fun in that? So I just went ahead and wrote it. Also someone else requested one that includes the bodyguard prompt so there will be a part 2 soonish. Enjoy! 💜

Bodyguard AU + Flirting under fire

Julie sighed for the third time in the last two minutes.

“Can you stop that?”

The exasperated voice expressing annoyance with her impatience was her best friend/assistant Alex. They’d been best friends since middle school and when Julie’s music career started to take off everyone had tried to convince them that working together was a disaster waiting to happen. She had worked herself up over how her being his boss would ruin everything until she finally told him how worried she was.

“Won’t you feel, I don’t know demeaned, being my assistant?”

“Jules, I’ll be assisting you to survive which you’ll never do without me. Stop overthinking.”

And five years later she was a lot better at that. She was a 22 year old successful musician, her second album and first national tour right around the corner. Unlike when they were 17 she had learned her best results always came when she was able to listen to her instincts and go with the flow.

Unless she was waiting in the lobby of her label waiting for her new bodyguard to show up. A bodyguard who was officially late, a fact that she didn’t hesitate to inform Alex of.

“By like 2 minutes, chill,” He insisted, tapping away on his phone probably arranging the rest of her day as his thumbs flew over the screen.

“Alex, if my bodyguard is late I could end up dead,” She reminded him.

“Someone’s feeling dramatic today,” Alex looked up and nodded toward the other side of the lobby. “Maybe that’s him.”

Julie turned to look and instantly shook her head.

“No way. There’s no such thing as a cute bodyguard.”

Alex raised an eyebrow at her confident statement.

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a harmful bodyguard stereotype.”

Julie wasn’t so sure. In her experience bodyguards tended to be stoic, middle aged men built like linebackers. This guy on the other hand was young, probably within a year or two of her, with shaggy hair and a bouncy energy visible even from across the room. It was true that even through his vintage band tee she could see that he was kind of ridiculously muscular but so was her personal trainer and she wouldn’t want Dante standing between her and a crazed stalker.

She stood by her first assessment though. He was definitely cute.

He was also looking around the room, his eyes landing on her and a perfect smile stretching across his face.

“You’re uh, not bodyguard is heading this way,” Alex observed.

Julie could see that.

“Are you Julie Molina?” He asked as he came to a stop directly in front of her. “I’m Luke, your new bodyguard. Nice to meet you.”

“You’re my new bodyguard?” She repeated incredulously. “And you’re not sure who I am?”

Luke shrugged, his smile seemingly unaffected by her borderline rude response.

“I was pretty sure. And your label wanted to hire someone who could blend in more easily, offer you some protection without ruining your image as approachable.”

“Oh,” Julie turned to Alex who was watching the exchange with interest. “Did you know about this?”

Her best friend smirked.

“They may have mentioned something.”

Julie was starting to feel as though she had been set up. She turned back to Luke who was still rocking slightly on his heels, standing still not seeming to be his thing. He really did not seem like the type who could intimidate an attacker but he did seem like the type who would be really distracting to have standing around if he was going to keep smiling at her like that.

So she was in trouble in multiple ways.

She did her best to keep her face neutral when she spoke again.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Luke. Everyone on my team is hired on a trial basis, so we’ll see how it goes ok?”

Luke reached up to salute.

“Ok, boss. Where we headed?”

Julie definitely did not find his insistence on being casual paired with that hard to place accent attractive. Definitely not.

Lucky for her, his attractiveness was soon offset by his ability to drive her absolutely crazy. Other than Alex he was by her side more than anyone over the next few months. He followed her to recording sessions, he followed her to music video shoots, and he followed her to fan meet and greets. But he was expected to follow her on personal excursions too and he seemed incapable of doing so silently. He made running commentary on the groceries she bought (always late at night to lower the chances of being recognized). He gave her unsolicited tips on what weights she should be lifting while she worked out. And worst of all was his insistence on giving her unasked for feedback on her music.

He wasn’t familiar with her work at all, or at least he never showed a hint of recognition when she brought up her previous songs or album. But he had a lot of opinions on what she was working on now.

“You know if you added some echoes in the chorus that song could be sick,” He remarked one day as he escorted her home after a long studio session.

Julie groaned and let her head flop back on the seat of the car they were currently being driven in.

“And you know your job is to keep me alive, not actually to critique my musical choices, right?”

He shrugged.

“I’m a good multitasker.”

And the most annoying part was he was always right. At least about the music. He seemed to always sense when she was stuck and somehow pipe up with the exact thing she needed to hear to get the music flowing again. Suggesting a tweak to a lyric or humming a guitar riff he thought she should try. It got to the point where she sometimes sought out his opinion before he could offer it on his own. He was clearly a musician as well as the world’s most unorthodox bodyguard.

He made her a better writer and if the way he grinned when he particularly liked one of her ideas was any indication, she thought she might make him better too.

She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying that out loud though.

So they went on like that for a few more months. Julie never brought up his trial period again and he continued to both annoy and intrigue her daily. So far he hadn’t actually had to do much protecting though. He had helped her escape a few overly excited twelve year olds once but that was about it.

Until it wasn’t.

Julie had heard plenty of stories about celebrities whose over enthusiastic fans had crossed the line to full on stalking. She just never thought it would happen to her. She always felt so close to her fans, so connected by the music she made for them. But when she came home one day and found the door to her condo ajar she realized she may have been a little naive.

She knew she should wait for Luke, he had been held up in the lobby checking in with the building security but he should be right behind her. He always did a sweep before leaving her for the evening. But it wouldn’t be the first time she had neglected to lock her own door when she left. She had so much on her mind right now. Maybe...maybe she had left it open?

She had the whole top floor of the building to herself, you needed a special key to even get up here in the elevator. It was hard to believe someone else had managed that.

Julie eased through the slightly open door and hesitated a few steps inside. Everything seemed normal maybe…

Then she heard it. Someone was in her bedroom and it sounded like they were going through her drawers. Her stomach sank. Should she run for the door? Or would that alert whoever was in there and send them after her?

Suddenly there was a presence behind her and Julie was just on the brink of letting out an involuntary yell when a familiar hand came down to grip her shoulder.

“Shhh,” Luke whispered directly into her ear. “Come on.”

He guided her backwards to one of her closets and pulled them inside quickly, somehow managing to pull the door closed behind them soundlessly. Julie’s heart thumped wildly in her chest as she tried to keep her breathing silent. Luke positioned himself between her and the closet door, keeping one hand on her shoulder and the other resting over his belt.

Did he have a knife hidden under that band tee? A gun? Why had she never asked any questions about how exactly he was prepared to protect her before?

Still. She had to admit she felt as safe with him as she would with anyone. All of the characteristic movement she associated with Luke had drained out of him, leaving him incredibly still but still thrumming with focused energy. He was listening at the door and she could see his brain cycling through calculations of what he would do next. She had a sudden fear of him leaving her, even if it was in an attempt to defend her.

She reached out without thinking and grabbed for his hand that had been resting on her shoulder and wrapped it in hers, holding on for dear life.

He glanced back at their linked hands and then up to her face offering her a soft smile that felt more like the Luke she knew. Somehow just that was enough to let her breaths come a little easier.

“You’re ok,” He whispered.

She nodded but didn’t drop his hand.

“Did you see them? Are they armed?”

He nodded once and Julie swallowed hard.

“Just stay put for a second,” Luke whispered again. “Backup is on the way and I’ve got you.”

Julie nodded. She believed him.

She focused on keeping her breathing steady and quiet. Soon she had calmed down enough to realize just how close they were to each other. It was a small closet just meant to toss a coat or two into when you walked in the door. Julie considered herself lucky that she hadn’t gotten around to putting anything in this particular closet or she would have been smothered by fabric right now. As it stood she was seated on the ground pressed directly up against Luke where he crouched against the door, their bodies touching in just about every way they could be.

This was not the time to be thinking about how big his eyes looked from this close or how those little bits of his hair that flipped up were tickling her cheek or how he smelled really, really good.

It wasn’t the time but that didn’t stop her from thinking about all of it.

Fear did strange things to people, ok?

Only it wasn’t just the fear because she had definitely noticed all of those things before. They just hadn’t been quite so in her face. Literally.

“Thanks,” He whispered, amusement clear in his hushed tone.

Julie snapped back to reality.

“For what?” She whispered back.

“You said I smell good. Really, really good,” He replied leaning in even closer so he could say it directly into her ear.

Julie froze in mortification.

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“No, that didn’t happen.”

He leaned back as far as he could go which wasn’t far and smiled before reaching up with his free hand to push a curl away from her face.

“Whatever you say, boss,” He said with his most annoying smirk.

Only she wasn’t annoyed. At all.

Trouble.

She had known he would be trouble.

Suddenly a floorboard creaked directly in front of the closet and Julie dropped his hand so she could slap her own over her mouth and muffle the whimper that tried to escape.

Luke was suddenly all business again, raising his finger to shush her before reaching for the door handle. Before she could react he had yanked the door open and was leaping out.

Julie thought she might have screamed but she wasn’t sure. She heard a scuffle but kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, afraid to open them and see Luke hurt and her stalker coming straight for her.

A few long seconds later she heard the sound of the police arriving at the same time that a hand landed softly on her arm. She flinched slightly and opened her eyes to see Luke staring down at her, thoroughly out of breath but seemingly unscathed.

“You ok?” He asked.

She nodded and allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her out of the closet. Thankfully the police had already hauled away whoever had been in her apartment but there were a couple of officers taking notes and speaking into their radios.

One approached them where Luke was keeping her upright with an arm around her shoulder.

“You’re a very lucky lady, Miss Molina. He was unarmed and your boyfriend had him in a heck of a headlock when we got here.”

Julie blushed.

“He’s not my...wait. The guy was unarmed?”

She looked up at Luke with a look that clearly demanded answers.

“He had a pen,” He shrugged as though the significance should have been obvious.

It was not.

“A pen?” She repeated. “You made me think he had a gun!”

“Hey, do you know how many ways someone can kill you with a pen?” Luke insisted. “Spoiler alert, it’s a lot.”

The cop looked back and forth between them with confused amusement.

“Well, we’ll leave you to it. We’ll check in with your building security and try to figure out how he got in. In the meantime you might want to look into hiring some protection.”

Julie felt Luke bristle next to her and couldn’t help but smile smugly.

“You’re right, I might.”

Then they were alone and Luke was moving through each room, checking for himself to see that everything was as it should be.

Eventually on his third check, Julie grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.

“Thank you, Luke. For everything. As much as it pains me to say it...you were amazing today.”

He grinned, and suddenly he was the Luke who followed her around and annoyed her with how right he was about everything again.

“Yeah, well, you’re amazing everyday, Boss. So I guess we’re even.”

Julie could feel herself blushing again.

Trouble.

She was in so much trouble.

[moonloredraws]

House of Blood

A story about an overworked and stressed out individual who goes to a vampire brothel for some consensual hypnosis to start off her holiday off work.

M Vampire x F Human (NSFW, tw hypnosis , tw vampire biting ) 4277 words

---  Life had been a cycle of stress and problems, and things had been spiralling for you recently. Your job had become too much to handle, your co-workers had once again proven to be unreliable and your boss had been more unreasonable than usual. Things had been hectic.

Your holiday had come up, fortunately. A couple of weeks away from the incessant stream of issues was a welcome reprieve. You had planned on enjoying yourself, treating yourself to some new clothes and other goodies. 

You had even decided to go to the local smut bookshop. The Moonlore Bookstore had always piqued your interest, but you'd never really had any reason to go in. The interior was surprising, the inside seemed much older than the modern facade of the building led you to believe, but the atmosphere was cozy and welcoming. The front was a cafe, with the back half of the space hiding the books behind some discreet dividers. It had an unusual vibe for a place to buy erotic books.

The thing that most had stood out was an extensive board of flyers, business cards and other advertisements of all kinds.

This was clearly a busy place that many supernatural beings frequented, but that made sense, given how the owner seemed of elven descent and her husband was a werewolf. Much of the ads were specific services for the variety of creatures that shared the human world, though much of the ads were for different places that you hadn't even heard of. Why would there be adverts for services in Amsterdam, Chicago, London and some other notable cities all in one place? It boggled your mind.

However, as you scanned the board with curiosity, you noticed a stack of discreet ash grey cards with a bright red embellished pair of lips. They stood out, and you looked a bit closer.

“Are you stressed? Want to have your worried sucked away?Come to the House of Blood for a fresh reset.”

It was in your area, too. 

  You had never heard of such a place before. You unpinned one of the cards, and took a closer look. It seemed like some kind of establishment run by vampires. Brothels run by the supernatural community was nothing new, but you had never frequented something like it before. Your gut twisted with excitement. You had never really cared for such things, but something about having your stress relieved fast and possibly having fun on the side tickled your fancy.

With your new treats and purchases, you went home, and did some more digging on the House of Blood. It had a discreet website, and it was definitely a brothel of some kind, as you had suspected. It seemed legit, had a small gallery of some incredibly well dressed vampires, some information on the workers and the owner, and you gave a sigh of relief at it being legit.

It did have a appointment form, but encouraged people to go there in person to have a chat about the different options they offered and what would be most appropriate for the client. 

  So you got yourself hyped up. This was all new and exciting, and you waited until an hour after night-fall. Following your phone's GPS, you made your way to the place. It was in an alley off a very busy street, which may have rung some alarms bells if it weren't for the beautiful state of the alley. It was clean, no dumpsters, bright neon signs lighting everything up and with a clear big sign next to the door. You let out a breath you didn't know you had been keeping, and slouched your shoulders as you walked to the door nervously. The beautiful ashen door had the same red lips on it as the card, and you nervously turned the handle, and entered into a small hallway that had some stairs leading upstairs.

Climbing the red carpet covered stairs, you looked around at the rich reds and ashen colours of the interior. Clearly the same person had designed this place and the vampire run nightclub in the area. Or maybe the owner was the same. Perhaps, though, they simply kept up the same “vampire aesthetic” for the other people around. You weren't sure. However, as you got to the top, you came to a brightly lit waiting room. There was a desk of bright cherry red plastic, and behind it was a woman, her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, with lipstick to match the desk and a slouchy cream coloured sweater. 

  “Welcome to the House of Blood! I don't believe I've seen you here before?” said the woman, her cheeks lifting as she smiled. You nodded as you walked closer, still a bit nervous.

“It's my first time here, yes,” your voice wavered, as you came up to the desk. “ Well, welcome! I'm Amandine, but you can just call me Mandy. Since you're new, I need you to fill out a simple questionnaire, and a little form. I'll help you through everything, so don't worry about it if something is unfamiliar!”

Her cheerful and helpful disposition helped put you at ease, and you swiftly filled in some details, the medical history part took you by surprise, but it made sense. Vampires drink blood, after all. 

  The 'little form' ended up being a pretty big list, actually. Most of it was kinks and things that you would be alright with in a sexual situation. What intrigued you was the box marked “hypnosis”. 

  “What does that involve?” you looked curiously over to Amandine. “Is that something like becoming puppeted...?”

Amandine shook her head, giving a slight chuckle. “No, when we 'hypnotise' people, it's more like we induce a state of intense tunnel vision. You'll feel things more intensely, and I haven't found an easier way to say this, but it just makes you very horny. We haven't found a better term, so we just use 'hypnotise'.” “Huh,” you hummed at it.

“Since you're looking at some stress relief, I do suggest that. It's very difficult to have your mind wandering while under the effects.” Amandine added helpfully. That sealed the deal. All in all you weren't really looking for a very extreme interaction, you just wanted to have some fun, but the added benefit of not having to worry about much seemed too good to pass up.

Amandine settled the paperwork, clipped it all together, and then pointed at one of the doors. 

  “You'll want to go to room 4. There are no locks, for client and worker safety, but rest assured, nobody except the right person will walk into your room,” she gave a playful wink as she stood up and walked to a different door in the lobby, directly behind the desk. 

  “There's a box for your clothes, and there's a fluffy robe, if you'd like to get into something more comfortable, waiting for you in the room.”

You nodded, butterflies tickling your stomach as you walked through the door, into a well decorated hallway, to a door with the number 4 on it. Cautiously, you opened it, and entered.

The interior was plush. There was a soft looking bed, and a couch, and a door to bathroom. Everything was some sort of red or dark grey tone. You found a small night stand, and a fluffy maroon robe. 

  You did as Amandine suggested, and stripped completely, shoving your clothes unceremoniously into the empty nightstand's drawer. The rest were filled with a pile of sex toys and condoms. Your cheeks flushed as you quickly put the robe on and went to sit down. 

  Your current situation began to dawn on you, and you restlessly played with your hands. Before you could get overwhelmed with doubt and stand up to put your clothes back on, you heard a knock on the door.

“Come in!” You squeaked. It was happening. No turning back now.

The door opened and a tall, pale skinned man slid in, a tray in his hands with two cups and a teapot. Your heart skipped a little as he flashed a fanged smile at you, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“I'm Xavier, please to meet you!” He quickly set the tray down, and went to shut the door behind him. You nervously introduced yourself, noting how much your voice was shaking. 

  Xavier had a fluffy mop of wavy brown hair, and a slight 5 o'clock shadow painting his jaw. His eyes were a friendly brown, and if it hadn't been for his fangs, you could have sworn he was just some guy who didn't get outside much.

 He wore a lightly cream coloured shirt, an intricately patterned green and gold vest, and some brown dress pants. He seemed much too overdressed to be part of a brothel, he'd be a much more fitting sight in a themed host club. 

  “No need to be so nervous. You're here to have a good time, right?” Xavier said as he sat down on the couch, placing the tray between the two of you. “Mandy said you preferred chamomile, so that's what we have.”

“Can vampires even drink tea?” The question had left your lips involuntarily, and Xavier let out a chuckle.

“Eating and drinking depends on what kind of vampire you are. Most turned vampires have a hard time processing food and some drinks, but I'm a born vampire, I can deal with this all just fine.”

You let out a 'huh' at that, and then picked up one of the cups which Xavier had filled with tea.

“So, a little bird told me that you've been dealt a bad hand by life at the moment.” Xavier took a sip of his tea. 

  You nodded, and began to tentatively recount some of the more frustrating events. Soon, you let yourself get more relaxed, and your gestures become more intense as you vented your worries, and Xavier ended up being a very good listener. 

  The conversation eventually started to lose steam, so Xavier picked up. He started to talk about himself. He had an interest in very fine embroidering, and occasionally would make some clothes for himself. He showed off his vest at that point, beaming at his creation. 

  “So... how come you've ended up working here?” You asked. Someone so skilled at sewing ending up in a brothel instead of working as a designer seemed odd.

“I enjoy helping people like this, and I'm a bit of a social butterfly. I tried being a host once, but that didn't end up working so well. I have... a slightly voracious appetite.” He smiled apologetically. You inhaled sharply at that, and you felt your cheeks warming up, and you felt a jolt in the pit of your stomach.

“I'll follow your lead, whenever you want to move onto something else, we can do that.” Xavier chuckled. 

  You nodded, blushing, and your shoulders tensed up. Xavier regarded you with a warm gaze, and slowly moved the tray to the side and shuffled closer to you, gingerly putting a hand on your shoulder.

“You're a bit tense again. Would you want me to give your shoulders a little massage?” He purred.

The vibrations of his voice went straight to your loins, and you stiffly nodded, turning your back to him. He gently tugged at the collar of your robe.

“Loosen your robe a bit, I can reach a little better that way.” He pulled the robes a little looser around your neck, and then gently pressed his fingers into your shoulders. As it turned out, his skills also extended to massaging, and you slowly found yourself sinking towards him. 

  You sighed, and soon he removed his hands. 

  “Feeling any better?” Xavier smiled at you.

“That was amazing,” you said, and then sighed.

He leaned slightly closer, leaning his head on his hand and sitting in a more casual pose. “I can keep going... or we can move onto something different?”

You debated on it for a moment, before the ache in the pit of your stomach started to become a little more incessant. 

  “I think... something a little different might be nice...” you said, slowly, and something lit up in Xavier's eyes. 

  “Then... may I touch you, pet?” His voice had changed, something almost predatory came alive in him. You nodded, almost afraid, but something about being in the presence of this creature excited you.

He gently placed his hand on your knee, and then slowly slid up your thigh, giving it a little squeeze halfway up. His hand started to skirt along the edge of the fabric of the robe. 

  “I won't touch anywhere that is covered... so you lead.” He purred, keeping his hand on your thigh, rubbing languid circles with his thumb. You let out a little huff, and then bashfully began to untie the belt on the robe. As you slowly let the belt fall away, your robe opened slightly, and Xavier let out an approving sound, slowly trailing his finger higher up your thigh.Soon, his hand dragged up your partially exposed stomach, between the groove of your breasts, then lightly touching the line of your collarbone. 

  “Mmh... you already smell so good and we've barely even started. You must really want this, that, or you're just naturally a treat.” Xavier licked his lips. “If you want me to make you feel better just say the word.”

The slow drag of his fingertips across your skin and the mood of the room made you a little bit braver all of a sudden.

“What do you have in mind?”

Xavier let out a chuckle, and you let his hand travel around to tip your chin upwards. “I can make you feel a way you've never felt before.” 

  “Is that right?” you tested him, before shakily breathing out, “show me what you've got then.”

He grinned, and something changed.

In the split second that you had challenged him, your body suddenly got hot, your vision blurred and your brain suddenly felt trapped in a bubble.

“Look at me, pet,” Xavier whispered, holding the back of your head with one of his hands. “It's alright. Nothing bad will happen.”

Your head was spinning, the sensation was odd and uncomfortable, but soon enough you focused on the way that his other hand was petting your thigh. You focused on the way his eyes were staring at you, the way his lips moved, and before you had a chance to get used to this strange sensation of being partially stuck in your own head, your entire being became a ball of nerves.

You started to breathe heavily as the fabric of the robe began to feel constricting around you, and you started struggling out of the fabric. Your body didn't want to listen very well, and you couldn't managed to make the fabric slip off you.

Xavier hummed, looking at you.

“What's the matter, pet? Having some trouble taking your clothes off?” He was clearly enjoying this, but you found that you didn't mind his teasing. “Do you need me to help you?”

You tried to reply, but all that came out was a moan, so you weakly nodded your head.

In a swift motion, you found yourself pulled onto Xavier's lap, your front exposed to him, your legs spread obscenely. The new sensation of the fabric of his pants made you let out another soft moan, and he quickly pulled the robe from your shoulders. The way his hands felt on you was mind blowing, and you didn't hold back the pleased rumbling that came from your throat.

“You look comfortable.” His eyes scanned you up and down, and his hands began to move up your sides. Everything was so sensitive, his fingers were like fire licking at you. In the haze of this dark, dimly lit room, there was only Xavier. You couldn't think of anything else but his hands, his face, his beautiful full lips. Your stares didn't go unnoticed, and he smirked. 

  “It seems that someone wants something more, hmm?” his voice was a purr, quiet, meant only for your ears. Weakly, you managed another nod, and he pulled your hips a bit closer and pulled on your shoulders to make you lean over. His lips connected with yours, and you let out a lewd mewl, breathing out hard. His kisses started out softly, massaging your lips, clearly ignoring your needy attempts at making out with him. Kissing him, and feeling his hands running up and down your thighs, hips, ass, it made you feel on cloud nine. So much of his touch made you feel turned on, you'd honestly never felt anything like this.

You were momentarily pulled from your frustrations when Xavier ran his tongue over your lips. It sent a jolt down your spine, and you involuntarily shivered. You vaguely heard a chuckle through the murky horniness of your mind, and you let out a deep moan.

You weren't allowed to recover from this assault on your senses when Xavier put one of his hands behind your head and he deepened the kiss, darting his tongue through your lips and exploring your mouth. You had to close your eyes, and grabbed tightly on his shirt to avoid floating away, your brain being bombarded with too many sensations.

You lost track of time, you lost track of yourself, you couldn't tell where you ended, and where Xavier started. Everything that you felt in that moment was so unfocused, but the pleasure was beyond what you believed was possible.

Xavier pulled away, and you were ripped from your intense pleasure. You managed to make a frustrated noise, and Xavier gently stroked your jaw.

  “Come on, surely kissing isn't the reason you came here?” He gave you a curious look and you had a moment of clarity through the haze. He noticed the momentary sobriety, before letting one of his fingers gently rub against one of your nipples.

The sensation shot through your body and another moan ripped through you. “Thought so.”

You were quickly bundled into strong arms, and were laid out onto a soft surface. Xavier joined you on the bed, and moved to trap you between himself and the bed.

“Time for the main event, pet.” he breathed out, his eyes having grown even more intense than before. 

  Something about this well dressed, hungry vampire looming over you made you feel so desired, you wanted him to drink from you, to have a taste of you, to fuck you senseless.

It wasn't long before he dipped down and took your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the sensitive bud. You writhed under him, and he had to grab your shoulders to keep you still. It was torturous, each flick of the tongue made you feel so good, but it wasn't enough.

That is, until he moved one of his hands to gently stroke at your folds.

You came instantly, and almost screamed, the feeling of that sudden action tipping you over the edge. 

  You felt Xavier chuckling against you, still licking at your nipple as he hovered his hand over your pussy.

“That was fast. Do it again,” he went right back to sucking on your breast, and you felt his hand come down on you again.

You didn't come instantly this time, but you weren't far off as the haziness of your mind and the overload of sensitivity had you hurtling towards your next orgasm. Xavier didn't let up though, and your body didn't put up any resistance as his fingers played around with your folds and clit, the little bundle of nerves almost on fire under the thorough touch of his fingers.

You were vaguely aware of him moving upwards, kissing a trail on your skin, before nuzzling your neck.

Xavier hummed in approval, and gave a quick lick over your neck. “You smell so good.... I want a taste.” His voice was quiet, skirting over your skin. “Can I?”

A noise came out from you, approving. You could barely concentrate on anything, and when Xavier's soft lips touched the base of your neck, his fingers still in you, your mind suddenly went blank.

For a while, your mind and consciousness was almost separated from your body, the only thing you were aware of was immense pleasure.

It lasted for so long. You couldn't tell how long you were in this state of pure bliss.

Slowly, you felt like you were coming back to yourself. 

  With a sigh, you blinked your eyes open, finding yourself cradled next to Xavier, wrapped in a blanket.

“Hey,” he said, sheepishly. “How are you feeling?”

You couldn't help the blush that crept on your face at the sight of his warm smile. Were his cheeks a bit red too? Something had changed in him. You couldn't pinpoint it, but he seemed more lively.

“I-I'm ok,” You mumbled into the blanket. “That was... amazing.”

“It's pretty cool, huh?” Xavier laughed, before smoothing back his hair and sitting up, his clothes still impeccable despite what had transpired. “Would you like me to get you some tea and cakes?”

You had requested for a caring service, but you hadn't quite expected to be tucked into bed and to get served tea and sweets after getting fucked thoroughly. You hadn't even fucked, really, but it certainly felt like you had been. Xavier left the room, giving you a warm smile as he exited the room. You were left in this cozy, luxurious room, alone. You tentatively sat up, feeling a bit wobbly, and you reached for the robe that had been set neatly on the bed. 

  You quickly robed yourself, and it wasn't long before Xavier returned with a new tray and sauntered over to the bed. “Here, we have tea, chamomile again, and some cakes. I wasn't sure which one you'd like, take your pick.” He set down the tray after sitting down, and gestured over to a selection of little slices. “You should definitely eat. I didn't drink much, but you need to make sure that you eat something to get your strength back.”

You reached for what looked like lemon drizzle cake, and took a bite from the slice. It was delicious.

You let out a throaty moan at the taste, and reached for the cup of tea. Xavier lifted up his own cup of tea, and took a sip.

“So, happy with the service?” He turned his head to look at you, smiling. 

  You smiled back at him, feeling your cheeks burn again, and nodded.

“That was... definitely unlike anything else I had ever experience.” You took a sip of your tea. “I'm more than happy.”

You shared that little moment together, silent save for the sound of tea being sipped and cake being eaten. You didn't mind, it was comfortable, and you had a chance to collect yourself. 

  “Would you like me to stay for a bit or are you ready to head home?” Xavier broke the silence, putting his cup down onto the tray with a clink. You sighed, and eventually put down your own cup.

“I think... that I'm ready to head home. Your company was lovely tonight and, well,” you avoided looking at him momentarily as an unprecedented wave of shyness overcame you. “I think... I would definitely like to visit again.”

Xavier smiled, and you felt your heart flutter for a moment as he leaned over and gave your hand a kiss.

“I do hope you come by again, you're delectable, pet.” He winked, before picking up the tray again and heading towards the door. “I'll be going now, I hope you have a safe trip back home and I hope to see you again, but remember, there's a mandatory 2 week wait between visits so you can recover.”

“Yes, I remember,” You nodded, and waved as he disappeared behind the door, shutting it with him.

You got up, cleaned yourself up, and dressed yourself. You left the room behind, and exited the hallway. 

  “Heyo, is that you done for tonight?” Amandine asked, smiling as you came out to the lobby.

“Yes... it was certainly an experience.” You said. You dug through your handbag for your wallet to pay up the fee, and soon you noticed how soft your body felt. “Relaxed? Xavier's a pro at what he does. If you want to make sure you get an appointment with him again, then please do phone up beforehand.” Amandine quickly shuffled some things behind the desk and brought up a small gift parcel, placing it on the counter.

“What's this?” you asked, quizically.

“All visitors get a little gift parcel. It's not much bit it's a few goodies and snacks to make sure you recover.” Amandine smiled, nudging the parcel over. “After all, there's a bit of a symbiotic relationship between us and our clients.”

You have an understanding nod and picked up the parcel, and bid your farewells.

On the way home, you felt calm, but there was a bit of a pep in your step, as you walked with confidence. That visit had definitely left a mark on you, and you made sure to write up a note on your calendar for exactly two weeks from then to set up a second visit to that handsome vampire.

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.23)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Twenty Three) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,693 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior, drug use

Part Twenty Two || Part Twenty Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?”

Steve shrugged, “You don’t have to say or do anything yet.”

“’Yet’,” Cecile scoffed, digging her fingernails into the wood of the kitchen table. Steve sat to her right, facing her.

The car ride home had been silent, the tension stifling. As soon as she had walked through the door, she had gone upstairs and left Steve in the foyer of the house. He had called Y/N then.

“Are you still in agreement?” he asked.

“Yes. But—”

“Then I’ll get an appointment set up for you so you can check to see how far along you are. Have Tony reach out to me if you insist on him collecting the contract from me instead of yourself,” Steve cut her off. He paused for a moment before he said softer, “I really wish you would reconsider what you are asking me to do. It doesn’t have to end like that.”

“No. It doesn’t. But it’s going to,” Y/N said, only a slight waver in her voice. “I’ll speak to Tony. Goodbye, Steve.”

She hung up on him.

“Yes. Yet. I’ll give you time to think.”

Cecile was quiet for a few moments before she asked, “You really wouldn’t give me anything substantial if that is what I decided?”

Steve narrowed his eyes and said, “I told you I would give you some.”

“But nothing more?”

“Why the fuck would I?” Steve snapped, giving her an incredulous look. “Having me fund your life away from me? That’s a fucking ridiculous and heartless thing to even suggest.”

“So what are we going to do then, Steve? Cause you’ve made it crystal clear you are not going to claim the child as your own. Does blood really matter that much to you?”

Steve chewed on his cheeks, glowering down at her. “In this instance, yes, yes it does. All I’m gonna see when I look at that child is you loving someone else.”

“We could try again, Steve. After—” Cecile tried to say but he interjected.

“I might have a solution. But it involves adoption for your baby.”

That caught her completely off guard, her mouth falling open before she asked appalled, “Adoption?”

“Mhm,” Steve confirmed, unbothered by her reaction.

“What plan?” Cecile demanded, crossing her arms sternly.

“I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“You might as well lay it all out for me, Steve, so I can make an informed decision.” Steve snorted at her phrasing, and she snapped, “I am serious.”

Steve studied her for an uncomfortable amount of time before he said, “You would give your child up for adoption and mine would take its place.”

“Yours?” Cecile asked confused. Steve stared at her silently, waiting, and realization washed over her, her arms relaxing every so slightly. She looked kicked, shaking her head. Her hurt turned to anger in the blink of an eye though. “Oh, so your infidelity can live underneath the roof but mine can’t?”

Steve’s hand slammed on the table, and she jumped at the sudden movement. Leaning forward he sneered, “It’s not the same. I don’t love her like you love him. And if it is my child, it’s because I knew you were unfaithful, and I went to great lengths to get it.” Cecile’s face screwed up in confusion and Steve ignored her, “And if this other plan doesn’t work out, well, then we are still going to talk about adoption because I am not going to raise a child that isn’t mine. As I’ve made crystal clear, as you said.”

“You won’t even give it a chance?” Cecile asked furious. “What if you grew to love them? They won’t ever have to see him. All they would know would be you as their father. I swear that.”

“Right back at you. She wouldn’t be in the picture.” Cecile’s mouth formed a thin line and Steve cocked an eyebrow. “Hmm, doesn’t sound so appealing to try when the table is turned?”

“If you make me give them up... what? Do you think I’ll just sleep with you again? Try again? That will be right out the window. I will resent you forever, Steve.”

“Go ahead.”

“You can’t keep me trapped here because of money.”

“I’m not,” Steve laughed humorlessly. “You’re doing that yourself because it seems to be what you really care about. If you didn’t, you would have no problem telling me you want a divorce right now and walking away. But you’re not. And you’re showing me your true colors plainly.”

“So, you would be fine living in a loveless marriage?”

“I’m already doing that. It’s very one sided. You played well. On vacation I mean. I felt happy there, lying in bed with you for long mornings. Cuddling you... it felt good. But apparently, it was all an act.”

“It wasn’t. I’m just appalled at you right now and you’re showing your true colors. All you care about is control! You don’t love me, Steve! You want to own me! For me to be miserable!”

Steve was out of the chair in a second, it flying back with the ferocity of his movement. He towered over Cecile, and she cowered under his prowess. Sneering, he told her, “If I could dig out whatever feelings I have for you and be rid of them, I would do it in a second. I’m sick of being desperate for you to reciprocate my affection and knowing it will never happen. I want to be free of you. But since it seems I can’t do that, then yeah, you’re right. I want you to suffer with me.”

Cecile began to shake her head, but Steve did not give her a chance to speak before he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

<><><>

Tony was awake when you walked back inside, catching you off guard. He was looking at you expectantly, suspicious probably that you had closed the door and spoken outside.

“It’s not his,” you told him evenly, walking towards the fridge.

Opening the door, you grabbed out the water pitcher and poured yourself a glass. Tony was quiet behind you as you took a long drink. You felt a little numb as it sunk in that you were going to have to go through with this. But it had to be this way, it was how you were going to get out of owing Steve. That phone call was a blessing; that is how you had to look at it.

“What was it like?” you asked Tony, turning around.

“What was what like?”

“Pregnancy for your wife.”

“Tiresome. Endless cravings and mood swings,” Tony responded surly, sitting on the edge of the couch. He leveled you with a stare and said seriously, “You know I could just pay him, right? What he owes. And then you would not have to worry about any of this.”

“I’ve already told him I would do it; he’s already working to set up an appointment. And I don’t think he’ll take too kindly if I back out. Especially now that he found out that his wife isn’t carrying his kid.”

Tony shook his head, “I wish you hadn’t called him and put that idea in his head at all. You could’ve… never mind. I know I asked you what you wanted and I meant it.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“He wants you to contact him about the document.”

“Right,” Tony muttered, standing up from the couch. He straightened out his clothes and said, “I… I do need to go home. It’s Forest’s birthday in a couple days and I should be around for that.”

Your stomach clenched at that. He had not left you alone for multiple days since Steve had whisked you away from the apartment.

“You’ll be alright?”

Despite what you felt, you nodded, trying to reassure him. He nodded in acknowledgement and walked over, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. He would barely meet your eyes.

“I’ll check in.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but he was quick to turn around and search for his keys. He was in a rush to leave now.

“Tony…” He hesitated, keys in hand, looking back over at you. You sighed, “Nothing. Sorry.”

When the door closed behind him, you stared at it. He was upset about the whole ordeal, that was clear. You had a suspicion he wanted to just be rid of Steve entirely but now he would be around for almost another year.

<><><>

Tony pressed the call button on his Bluetooth and settled back into the seat as he drove.

“Funny how you’ll call when she asks you to but not answer me when I’ve tried multiple times,” Steve answered dryly.

Ignoring his clear jab, Tony said, “Y/N said you are working on a document I need to get perused.”

“It’s already done.”

“You are always good about being prepared. Leave it on my desk.”

“You got it. I’ll do it in the morning,” Steve returned just as shortly before hanging up on him.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Fucking prick.”

<><><>

Tony’s hand was at your back as he held the door open for you and you walked past him into the doctor’s office. Steve was waiting in the lobby and you tensed seeing him in person. His eyes fell on you and his lips upturned ever so slightly before he noticed Tony over your shoulder and his smile faltered. He recovered quickly though, standing up to greet you. You stopped a few paces from him, and he gestured for you to sit. You took his seat, keeping an eye on him. But his attention was on Tony.

“A word?” he asked.

Tony shot you a quick look before he nodded, turning and Steve followed. When they were around the corner, Steve let out a small laugh.

“Couldn’t let her come alone?” Steve asked, amusement in his eyes.

“I’m not an idiot, Steve,” Tony said stiffly.

“So, are you gonna be a third wheel every checkup if it happens to be mine?”

“You’re damn right.”

“You’re really going to let this break up the team.”

“I am letting –,” Tony started to snap in disbelief before he shook his head. “No, I’m not doing this here.” He made to walk around Steve, but Steve stepped into his path and Tony’s mouth set into a thin line.

“You’re right. She’s pregnant and sensitive. Zen and all in her environment. Are you doing that? I just can’t be sure because I am not around.”

“She’s perfectly fine.”

Steve ran his eyes over Tony before asking point blank, “Were you looking at her as a replacement from the get-go?”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. Was this how you wanted it to end up? You and her, living in a place together? And you know you are quite sneaky. You never drive there. At least I haven’t seen it yet. Is there a landing pad? For the suit I mean? Or do you just land outside on the sidewalk?”

Snorting, Tony told him, “Shouldn’t be surprised you’ve been stalking — or asked someone else to. I anticipated that. That’s the thing about us smart guys. We always cover our asses.” He stepped closer to Steve and said in a dangerous tone, “You’re gonna leave her alone after this, Steve.”

Steve smirked, a cruel glint in his eye. “Heard you loud and clear. We can both get what we want.”

Tony did not trust him farther than he could throw him.

<><><>

“It’s legit. I had one of my lawyers look it over,” Tony explained to you, sitting down at the table beside you as you worked on a coloring page. You were finding it really helped calm your nerves to focus on them.

“So, I just sign it?”

“Essentially,” Tony said, straightening out his suit jacket. “I had them take a copy of it to keep on file for me. And I’ll ask Steve for a copy of the final signatures.” His eyes narrowed slightly, looking at you. You stared back, waiting for him to ask whatever it was that was on the tip of his tongue. “You really want to go through with it?”

“Yes. Why are you so against it?” you asked, not accusatively, but curiously.

“He’s been a loose cannon. It makes me nervous,” Tony answered honestly, sighing a little. “And it’s not like him and I are ones who typically follow the law. This document may mean nothing, it may just be a smoke screen. I mean, there is nothing in here about him leaving you alone even when he pays you out. It’s mainly just that you are giving up your parental rights once the baby is born and he becomes legal parent.”

“I don’t think he’ll want anything to do with me after he has the baby,” you told Tony. “That’s what he wants.”

Tony muttered, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

You reached out and grasped his hand, catching his eyes. “Seriously. If he really cared about me, he wouldn’t have done anything that he did. It’ll be fine.”

Tony sucked his teeth, like he wanted to say something else but he just nodded.

<><><>

The first appointment had shown you were six weeks along. Which meant New Years Eve. That still left the door open for Steve to be the father. The next three weeks were nerve wracking; you found yourself pacing more often than not, lost in thought. Elisha had come over a handful of times to distract you – you had not told her you were pregnant, you did not want to have that conversation with her.

Now, you found yourself back in the doctor’s office. You had come back to the room to Dr. Varma with Steve. You had been hesitant, but the procedure would not take long.

“And Mr. Rogers, I’ll contact you. Ten days,” Dr. Varma told him, finishing up.

You opened your mouth and Steve cut you off, seeing you about to protest. “Dr. Varma already has my contact information. We have rapport.” You eyed him curiously. Was this… no. You pushed the thought of your head. That was preposterous. Steve would not take you to the same doctor his wife was going to. Sticking out his hand, Steve shook Dr. Varma’s hand and stood up. He turned, helping you get up and you tensed beneath his touch. If he noticed, he did not show it. “Until next time.”

<><><>

Thankfully, you had not had any morning sickness, a real blessing considering you had been terrified of it. You did not like vomiting. And it looked good that you would not get it considering you were approaching the eleventh week. You were finding yourself tired though. A lot.

Sipping on a smoothie, you flipped through Hulu, just as your phone rang.

You sat up and placed your smoothie on the coffee table, reaching for your phone. Your hand hovered above it for a second, seeing it was Steve. Hand shaking now, you picked up the phone, gulping.

“Hello?”

“Your follow up appointment for a checkup is next month on the 14th. It’s a Tuesday.”

“So…”

“I wouldn’t have made a follow up appointment if it wasn’t mine, Y/N.”

“Right,” you said, your throat dry.

“So. I’ll send you over your meal plan. Like we discussed with Dr. Varma, the nutritionist he recommended already made up a mock one for me.” He was really serious about being involved clearly. You said nothing. “I would appreciate it if you would honor what I want and I would like you to buy your groceries around what is recommended.”

“Okay.”

Steve gave a humorless chuckle, “I would much rather be around to make sure that that is happening, but I know that that is out of the question.” He hesitated for a moment, as if he was waiting for you to rebuke it. When you did not, he exhaled sharply. “Be sure to pass that date on to Tony since he’s insisting to tag along every time.”

“I will.”

~~~

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