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#she’d pick my desk up with me in it and move it when we worked together in class
abbyromanoff · 8 months
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Hi 👋🏻 could u write gpWanda x reader x gpNatasha where Wanda is r gf and she doesn't know how to fuck reader properly so she ask Nat for help and N fuck r while W is watching?
I'm sorry if there are mistakes, english isn't my first language
ACQUAINTED
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PAIRINGS: Wanda x reader, Wanda x Nat, Nat x reader
WORD COUNT: 3,697
WARNINGS: therapist/patient relationship, perv!Nat, nat and Wanda have dicks, subby!Wanda, Miss (N), threesome, exhibition, voyerisum, degrading, praising, breeding, therapist!Natasha, pet names, smut (obvi), pining, cunnilingus, dry-humping (kinda), bottom!R, top!Nat, Nat treating R like an object,
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
Wanda sat on the couch with Natasha in front of her, sitting at her desk with a notebook in hand. The walls were painted a soothing gray, only adorning a few pieces of artwork. She had been seeing Ms. Romanoff for close to a year now after you suggested the idea of therapy, already having one of your own.
“I don’t know, it’s just hard I guess. I mean, I love them so much and I see myself having a future with them, but-” She paused, rubbing the back of her neck and adjusting her potion. Nat hummed, waiting for a response but speaking up when receiving none.
“But, what?”
“I- I want to- well, we don’t really-” She didn’t know why she was so nervous all of the sudden, she had been able to tell Nat almost everything but this seemed to be different.
“Trust me, I’ve most likely heard much worse here, whatever you say is confidential and free of judgment. Just take your time.” Wanda sighed and nodded, trying to figure out the words in her mind before speaking.
“I guess I just want to spice things up, you know? And don’t get me wrong, the sex is great but- but they were the first person I’ve ever done it with. I’m just scared they’re not satisfied and it worries me to think that I’m nowhere near as good as their past boyfriends or girlfriends.” She shrugged as if it wasn’t anything serious, but it was to her. She was a giving person, all she wanted was for you to be happy and well-pleasured, she wanted to impress you. But there was nothing to show off with, she had no skills in that aspect, that’s what she thought at least.
“Okay, that’s understandable.” Nat started. “Have you ever tried, say, having a conversation with them about this? I know you’re not great with communication but maybe just asking them what are some of the things they like or maybe even expressing your worries, I’m sure they’d listen.” She knew you would, but the idea of bringing such a thing up felt uncomfortable. She didn’t hate the thought of sex, but she hated the thought of talking about it. It felt like watching a sex scene on the television with your parents right next to you.
“I know they’d listen, I just don’t know how to, like, bring it up.” Wanda watched as Natasha moved her pen gently against the piece of paper, writing something down that she wished she could see.
“Alright, well, what if you invited them to a session, possibly our next one? We can bring up our discussion and your worries and maybe it could help ease them.” She spoke with such gentleness that it always made Wanda even more nervous. You had picked up on the way she’d always come home with a blush and a small smile after her appointments, but you just assumed she was happy to see you. And she was, but that wasn’t the full reason for her expressions.
“So it would be like couple’s therapy?”
“Yes, pretty much. I’ll have you two both share your sides and your feelings and we go from there.” Wanda could do that, she hoped so.
The one hour ended in what seemed like a few minutes as Nat said her goodbye’s to the woman, watching her leave as her eyes trailed down to her ass. The jeans fit her ass perfectly, it was impossible to stop the biting of her lip and the long sigh.
Truth be told, she had been planning this moment for too long. She remembered when she first ever saw you, Wanda showed her the picture she kept in her wallet of the two of you holding hands that were pointed to the camera with your lips attached in a sweet kiss. Before, she had been slightly upset when finding out that her client had a partner, even with the knowledge that it would ruin her career if she did anything. But then there was you, she didn’t expect you to be so beautiful.
The moment her last client left she went searching through your accounts, using your name to find anything on you. She was embarrassed to say she had stroked herself to multiple orgasms while scrolling through both you and your girlfriend’s photos. She was beyond ecstatic about next week’s visit, she could only hope you’d agree to go.
Luckily, you did. It took a little bit of convincing, when Wanda brought the idea up to you, you were frightened that you did something to upset her, but she quickly rushed that thought out of your mind. She didn’t tell you what exactly it was for, although you assumed it would be nice. You knew Natasha was an amazing therapist, she helped Wanda with all the things you struggled to help with. You were only human, and you didn’t have a degree like Nat, but your moral support meant just as much to your girlfriend.
“Wanda?” Her head shot up at the sound of Natasha’s voice, she quickly grabbed your hand and the two of you walked into her office. She closed the door behind you, her eyes catching a quick glimpse of your body. You were even better than the photos, she couldn’t wait.
“And you must be Y/N if I’m correct.” You nodded and shook her hand, giving her a warm smile as you removed your coat. Wanda did the same, grabbing yours and placing it on the coat rack in the corner of the room.
“So, I’m assuming Wanda has told you why you’re here?” When she looked down at her knees where her fingers rested, nervously picking the skin off of them, she knew her answer.
“Uh, not really. I was a little bit hesitant about this, but she told me there was nothing to worry about, so I’m hoping it’s nothing bad.” You shied away from Nat’s eyes, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks at the woman’s clear attractiveness. You didn’t exactly know what her therapist looked like, but now you wished you had done your research beforehand. She was stunning, breathtaking.
“Well, I can assure you that you have done nothing wrong, honey, there are just some topics we’d like to approach if that’s alright with you.” You nodded and interlaced your hand with Wanda’s, giving a small squeeze to assure her you weren’t upset. She had been planning what to bring up since the moment she left last week, but it seemingly all vanished by now.
“Do you have a therapist or a counselor of your own, Y/N?” It started off with simple questions, ones that you’d expect. That was until she started asking about your relationship and prior ones too. You shifted in your seat as she continued, feeling the immense pressure with both of their eyes on you.
“Now, tell me, Y/N, do you feel satisfied with Wanda?”
“Of course, I do. She’s such a great woman and I can really feel her love, I haven’t ever had someone like her.” You could see Wanda smiling next to you and you joined her. You truly loved this woman more than anything, you wanted to marry her someday and you hoped she thought the same.
“And sexually? Do you feel sexually satisfied with Wanda?” You nearly choked on your spit from her words, nervously chuckling in hopes to redeem yourself. She noticed your expressions and tried reassuring you, holding back as best she could when she patted your knee.
“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, trust me. It’s normal to feel a sense of discomfort in these situations, but I promise that everything here stays confidential.” Her voice was able to soothe you and calm your nerves.
“Uhm, I’d say so, yeah. Obviously, there are some…things I’d like to try, but we haven’t approached that.” She nodded, as if she wanted you to go on. You didn’t know what to say, your words were stuck in your throat. You were experienced with the topic, but it wasn’t one you openly shared or talked about with others.
“Would you say your sex life is more vanilla than you want it to be?” You loved Wanda, you really did, but she wasn’t the greatest when it came to your intimate moments. You could feel her love through it, but you wanted to see her rougher side, you knew she was holding back on you.
“To be honest, yeah. I kind of like things to be a bit more..kinky, you know?” You could see the redness on Wanda’s cheeks and the tip of her ears as she shuffled her feet around. You felt sorry for making her embarrassed, but that’s why she brought you here in the first place.
“What would you consider kinky, darling?” Her pet name had your lips quivering ever-so-slightly before you came up with a response.
“I guess I just wish she was a bit more rough with me. And don’t get me wrong, I love that I can really feel her care for me but sometimes I just want her to, like, use me.” Nat scooted her desk chair closer to you two, placing her hand on your thigh softly. Wanda was still silent, she was probably too scared to speak up.
“You want to be used, Y/N?” You nodded slowly, feeling your eyes drift to her lips. You felt so dirty looking at her the way you did your girlfriend, but you also knew she was doing the same.
“Hm, who knew such a sweet little thing could be so dirty?” You could feel her hand rubbing small circles on your covered skin, her eyes staring deeply into yours. She trailed them over your body, taking all of you in.
“Does this turn you on, honey?” You nodded once again. “Yeah? Me touching you while your girlfriend watches, that makes you wet?” You gulped down your arousal as you felt her thumb teasing your clit through the fabric, your legs instinctively opening for more.
“Kiss them for me, Wanda; act like I’m not even here.” You looked in the brunette's direction, watching as she snuck glances between the two of you. She placed one hand on your cheek and the other on your lower back as you leaned in for her lips to meet yours. You moaned into the kiss as Nat rid you of your pants, dragging her fingers across your panties and smiling at the wet patch adorning them. The noise allowed Wanda’s tongue to slip into your mouth, the intrusion causing you to groan in pleasure.
Your fingers ran through Nat’s hair, pleading her to come closer. You could feel her hot breath teasing your slit as she slid your panties to the side, small kisses being pressed against your clit.
“Please, Ms. Romanoff.” You pulled away from Wanda to catch your breath, your head resting on her shoulder. Your eyes landed on her crotch as you noticed her palming herself, her hips bucking into her hand.
“You’re such a good girl. Say, why don’t we give Wanda a little lesson, okay?” She smiled when you complied without a thought in your mind. She stood up, guiding you to join her as she removed your shirt, grinning when she took notice of your lacey bra.
“It’s Wanda’s favorite, I was going to surprise her tonight.” She huffed out a chuckle and reached around behind you to unclasp it, shuddering as it fell and you were left in nothing but your panties.
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, baby. Now I can finally get my hands on you.” She had been so desperate to be alone in her office with the both of you, she wanted nothing more than to mark you both as hers.
She led you to her desk, her kisses trailing from your neck to your chest where her lips wrapped around your hardened bud. Your back was met with the wooden table as she lifted you to sit on it, her palms lingering on your soft thighs after she guided your last piece of clothing off of you. She parted them, dropping to her knees in front of you and staring up at you with lust in her eyes.
“Watch closely, Wanda.” You looked over to the woman at the mention of her name, biting your lip with hunger as you noticed her unbuttoned pants and her hand hidden inside of her boxers. She shuddered when you cupped your breast, using Nat’s saliva to help create a small rhythm.
Nat blew a teasing breath onto your pulsing clit before leaning in, taking the bud into her mouth. She sucked delicately, soaking in your moans and twitches. She was too engrossed in your taste to take notice of her growing erection in her pants.
“Oh, you look so pretty on your knees for me, Miss.” It was clear that she was still the one in charge, but her need for you was so great, she couldn’t care if she seemed weak. Wanda, while feeling a pang of jealousy, couldn’t deny the heat that was growing in her stomach. She felt as though she would burst any second, but she was trying to hold back. Her thumb would occasionally brush over her tip, causing her eyes to squeeze shut.
“Look at me, Wands; watch me.” She pried her eyelids open willingly, nearly whining when she saw you wrap your legs around her therapist’s head. You grinded into her face as her tongue tortured your hole, diving in and out repeatedly. She groped your ass in order to push you closer into her, her nose poking at your clit.
“Fuck! Fuck- right there, yes!” You covered your mouth with your hand in order to silence yourself, becoming ashamed of how loud you were. Neither of them were complaining though, they thrived off of your noises; it brought satisfaction knowing that they were the reason you were in such a deep state of pleasure.
“I’m- I’m gonna cum.” Nat smirked into your cunt as you were brought over the edge, your head falling back and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your silent screams filled the room as Nat continued to lap up your juices, Wanda watching with the wish that she was the one tasting you. You were addicting, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. Every sway of your hips, every lick of your lips, every noise, and every word that left that sweet mouth was so alluring.
You were suddenly pushed to lie down, feeling the lumber underneath you bruise your back. You leaned up on your elbows to admire the woman as she undressed herself, running her hand through her short hair once as to fix what you tugged.
“Tell me, love, have you ever heard of breeding?” You nodded, receiving a slap to your cheek. Wanda widened her eyes at both the words and the rough contact, is this what you meant? Is this how you wanted her to treat you, like you were some no-good slut?
“Yes, Miss, I have.” She hummed, guiding her tip through your slit and gathering the wetness as a replacement for lube.
“When was the last time you ever pleaded to milk Wanda dry, hm? Beg her to slap you ‘till your skin turned black and blue? Or, better yet, when was the last time you got on your knees and asked her in that sweet little tone of yours to treat you like the dirty whore you are?” Your chest rose and fell with every breath you took, each one not feeling like it was enough.
“Never.” You shook your head as you answered, your eyes not being able to meet hers. She gripped your chin roughly, pulling you in close so her nose was practically touching yours.
“What was that?” She asked again, even if she had already heard you well enough.
“Never.” You repeated, this time louder. She clicked her tongue and shot you a disapproving glance.
“Mm, there’s always two sides to the matter. Here Wanda was not knowing what to do because you couldn’t communicate, do you think that’s fair on her?” The way she spoke, the light rasp to her voice was what caused the wetness already coating your thighs to increase.
“N-no, Miss.” She turned your head to face Wanda and she blushed in the moment you caught her. You could notice the stains now coating her boxers and the shameful look on her face; she had peaked with you. You didn’t know how you didn’t hear her, she was usually the louder one of you both. But you guessed that you were too far into your orgasm to care for anything else.
“Apologize to your girlfriend, Y/N, and tell her how sorry you are.”
“I’m sorry, Wanda, I’m sorry for not- not talking about my needs and wants when I should’ve. I’m sorry.” You stuttered over your words as you felt Nat’s cock prodding at your hole, her tip breaking way and creating a small stretch.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry too.” She spoke up, and for the first time this entire session, you were able to hear her voice. It was coated thickly with her Sokovian accent seeing as she had just moved here nearly eight months ago. You hoped it would never go away, no matter how long she lived in this country.
“See? You’re both already doing such a good job.” You both smiled at the praises, seeming to fish for them from the woman at bay. You sent a small ‘I love you’ to Wanda from across the room, although it was only mouthed out. Nat grabbed hold of your waist, pulling you towards her and causing her length to fill you up almost entirely. You gasped at the intrusion, crying out in pain as you clawed at the desk.
She continued to slowly lead you further, moaning to herself as your warmth clamped around her. Your tears only brought more delight to her heart, she could only grin when seeing them.
“You’ve been begging for Wanda to use you yet you can barely even take me? Aren’t you just a pathetic fucking slut.” Her fingertips ran along your face, her thumb rubbing gentle circles as a faux sense of comfort. She then brought them down to your neck, wrapping her palm around it and cutting off your airways. The only thing you could manage to get out were choked sobs and moans. The burning discomfort slowly eased into one of satisfaction as Nat slowly thrusted her hips into you, the sounds of skin clapping together ringing through all three of you guys’ ears.
“Did you know your girl likes to be choked, Wanda?”
“N-no, ma’am.” She chuckled at the title given to her. Her breasts bounced with every movement of her hips, her cock hitting your womb. There was a small yet noticeable bulge carved out on your stomach making her groan, she was so big compared to you.
“Hm, maybe in our next session we can teach Y/N a lesson too, what do you say?” She didn’t need another opinion to decide her answer, it was final. It wasn’t just the brunette at fault, you were required to voice your wants too, even if she’d have to force it out of you.
“Please-” You managed to get out when her hand removed itself from your bruising neck and found a spot on your waist, pressing down harder than before. She was practically resting her weight on top of you, causing the bone to struggle in holding her up.
“Shut your dirty fucking mouth, I don’t want to hear another word from you.” You were close, so close, and so was she. She was forcing her body to hold back, ensuring that you were to finish first.
Wanda’s erection only grew after her orgasm, her greed making her yearn for another. You were the only one who had ever been able to make her cum, she assumed there was no better. Shyly, she walked forward, her soiled clothing still masking her bottom half. She gave Nat a look, asking for permission to which she was granted.
“Don’t ask, sweetheart, force it.” She was so used to constantly asking if it was okay to do something to your body, after all, it wasn’t her choice. Every time you’d say yes, but there was always a nagging fear that you’d not want it and she had forgotten to ask. The thought made her sick, who would ever think to do such a thing?
“They want it, Wanda. Just rub yourself against them- perfect, just like that.” She praised when Wanda held you by the back of your neck and rutted her bulge against your face, the fabric rubbing against her hard length. She whimpered when your hand came up to rub her balls, your mouth peppering kisses over her cock.
“You close, baby?” You didn’t know who she was asking, but you both agreed. You continued to gently suckle while wishing you were able to truly feel her instead of the wrinkles in her trousers.
“Ah! S-shit, cum with me.” You followed her orders and let the coil in your stomach snap as you soaked her cock, feeling her release shoot deep inside of you.
You nuzzled against Wanda as you felt her twitching, only to notice a wet patch forming on her pants. She had leaked through her underwear while itching for more, the knowledge only fueled your pride.
You mewled as Nat pulled out of you, watching as the cum dripped down your cunt, some landing on the desk while other droplets fell to the floor. She didn’t bother looking for her clothes, instead pulling the younger girl in for a kiss before doing the same with you. It was passionate, both kisses were. You could sense the longing and the emotions in it that she tried to mask, only making you chase after her lips for more once she leaned back.
“Shall we plan your next appointment then?”
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thepastdied · 10 months
Text
Crimson Stains and Ribbons
bully!eddie Munson x fem!reader / third person oc(?)
Tried to use the name (Julia) as little as possible so it could feel more like an x reader.
Warnings: blood, mention of an oc’s name (not mine) a few times. Eddie is kinda a meanie. Eddie is kinda OOC a bit??
Summary: Eddie is jealous of Gareth's charming, cute, girly cousin that gets a lot of attention. He bullies her because he is a brat and assumes she's like a basic popular girl. Ends in fluff.
Word Count: 2,800
Request from @decadenttrashcookiehero .
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Her dress swayed as she walked through the empty cafeteria with Gareth by her side. Eddie’s head perked up when he heard the heavy double doors slam shut, eyebrows raising at this familiar person. She was that new girl in his English class, always wearing cute dresses with a ribbon of a different color in her hair everyday. She was always smiling and talking with someone, especially the boys who were constantly scooting their chairs over to her and sweet talking her up.
“Hey guys- This is my cousin, Julia.” Gareth introduces her.
The rest of the group greeted her warmly and began to chat amongst themselves. Eddie’s eyes narrowed at the group all huddled together, feeling left out as they all laughed and the girl giggled. Yeah, of course she’d suck up all the attention.
She waved to him, awkwardly looking away when he only blankly looked at her, muttering his name and moving his eyes back down to his notebook.
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He ignored her presence for the remainder of their hellfire meeting as she sat at the far corner of the stage, nose shoved into a book. And, as expected, everyone pulled her into another conversation when their meeting ended, him excluded (yet he didn’t even try to join in).
He groaned when she slid into the desk in front of him the next morning, hair splayed across her back and that stupid ribbon holding half of her hair up.
The teacher clapped her hands together to grab everyone’s attention.
“Alright, we will be in pairs for this short project. You should be able to finish it in a couple days.”
She walked up to each row, pointing to the students who will be partners.
The girl stiffened when the teacher pointed to her and then Eddie, hearing him loudly sigh. She definitely chose the wrong seat today.
She turned around, smiling shyly before offering a topic for their assignment only to get a stoic nod from him.
“Why don’t we just work on it this weeke-”
“No can do, got band practice with the boys.” He looked away from her, picking at his fingernails.
“We could just work on it at his house, and you can practice after?” She recommended as she began to pack her pencils into her rose printed case.
Eddie put his thumb to his chin, feigning deep thought.
"I guess so. Be there right after school. I'm sure you'd like to get this done as much as me." He slapped his hands on the desk and stood as the bell rang, ignoring the way her lips turned downwards.
"Oh and, uh- rosy? You can get the poster board."
"My name is Jul-"
"You can get the poster board." He blankly repeated, huffing when a student came over to your desk to ask if you wanted to go to lunch together.
“Wow.” He rolled his eyes, brushing past her and leaving the classroom.
She sat in Gareth's garage on an old milk crate, watching as her cousin went ape shit on his drum set. Her smile quickly disappeared when Eddie's van pulled up. The boys greeted him and he brightly greeted them back, walking past her as if she weren't there.
"uhm… Eddie? We should start now." She shifted on her feet and picked at a loose thread on her dress.
He sighed, showing that she was clearly wasting his time, before following her into Gareth's living room.
"So I started some research during lunch… got quite a lot done actu-"
"Then why am I here?" He scoffed as he crossed his legs on the coffee table.
She clenched her jaw, losing her patience at his attitude.
“The fuck is your problem, Eddie?” She slammed her notebook down, receiving an amused look from him.
“What? You mad that I’m not fawning over you like everyone else?” He snorted and grabbed the notebook and the pencil that was still in her hand, writing down some notes.
She glared at him, eyes scanning over his face and watching as he focused on whatever he was writing. He was right- she was mad that he didn't like her very much. She never did anything to make him act this way, and he was being a brat.
He stiffened when she scooted closer to him, her knee touching his thigh, as she leaned forward to look at what he was writing. Shockingly, he was doing the assignment, and over the course of the most awkward 10 minutes of silence he had written a bit.
“You like this creative writing class, huh?” She spoke. He only hummed in response, hand quickly writing across the paper and smudging the pencil lead in its path. He’s a lefty?
“Did you want me to leave this part to you then.. I could just start designing the pos-“
“You’re making me lose my train of thought, so- hush.” Eddie waved his hand at her as he looked through his eyelashes.
“Asshole..” She groaned and moved to sit on the floor as she started on the poster.
His eyes would flick over to her every once and a while. He almost started to feel bad, but would then remember that she’s probably just as stuck up as the popular kids that tortured him. Her kindness was probably fake… right?
An hour later after minimal small talk over the assignment, he got bored. He finished his part, which was basically more than half of the project since he got carried away, and started to bob his leg.
“Can you stop that?” She asked kindly, which pissed him off.
“Nope.” He began to move faster.
Eddie’s jaw dropped in shock when she slapped his knee playfully and laughed.
His heart clenched a bit and he cleared his throat, moving to look over her shoulder.
“You should redo that, it looks weird.” He pointed to a cutely designed diagram to the top right of the poster. It didn’t look dumb, but he just had to say something.
“R-really..?” She furrowed her eyebrows, a hurt expression on her face as she looked up at him, his curls brushing the side of her head.
He opened his mouth to make a cocky remark but instantly felt bad. The look she was giving him…
“Uh, no..just kidding. Rosy, give me your pencil case.” He avoided her eyes as he pointed to the case and began to grab some colored pencils out of it.
“Eddie, my name is not Rosy. Where did you even get that from?” She gave him an annoyed look.
He shrugged as he colored in some stuff, pointing to the rose print on her pencil case.
“Oh..”
She looked at his side profile and blushed.
"What? Can I help you?" He snapped at her.
"Wha- no.. No, sorry." She blinked a few times and shook her head.
His eyes narrowed at her and moved to her hair, pulling the ribbon out and dangling it in front of her face.
"Why do you even wear these things?" He flicked it at her face.
She sighed and rolled her eyes, missing when he grabbed the ribbon and stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket.
"Eddie, why don't you stop paying so much attention to everything I do, hm?" She bit back at him, masking how hurt she was.
He didn't say anything for the rest of their remaining hour.
"It's almost 6, gonna go practice with the band now." Eddie stood up and stretched his hands above his head, not missing the way her eyes looked at his exposed skin.
She nodded as he brushed by her, knocking her pencil case off the table.
"Oops." He snickered at her before disappearing down the hall to the garage.
She wanted to grab every writing utensil she had and whip it at the back of his head, but decided to kill him with kindness instead.
After she made some lemonade she walked into the garage, sweetly handing it to the boys and giving Eddie the kindest smile she could muster up. He looked at it like it was poison, shaking his head and turning away- stopping abruptly when she placed a hand on his arm.
"But I made it for you.. Eddie." She batted her eyelashes at him.
He raised his eyebrows and gave her an amused smile.
"Awe.. all for me, hun? Too bad your effort was wasted." He grabbed the cup from her and set it down.
She pursed her lips and scowled up at him, crossing her arms across her chest and pouting when he laughed at her and turned away.
"Hey guys, me and Julia are gonna go skating tomorrow if you wanna come?" Gareth offered.
Her jaw dropped as she glared at her cousin, stomach twisting as Eddie mischievously smirked at her.
"You know, I would LOVE to go Gareth." He said as he packed his guitar away in its case.
Her lips turned down, suddenly wanting to come up with an excuse as to why she can't go.
"Great! I'll see you guys tomorrow around 1?"
The boys agreed in unison and Eddie walked toward her, reaching to grab a cord.
"I hope you don't think this is a date, Rosy. As fucking if." He whispered in her ear before pulling away, waving to the boys as he trotted to his van.
The entire ride to the roller skating rink was agonizing. She felt like she wanted to throw up, dreading the moment she would have to be around Eddie again. She drove as slow as she could, though that didn’t help. Eddie was already rolling his eyes the moment she walked in, Gareth's arm over her shoulders and laughing at something Jeff had said.
She took a deep breath before walking right up to him.
“You skated before, Eddie?” She asked sweetly.
He snorted at her.
“Plenty of times, have YOU skated before, Rosy?” He raised one eyebrow at her, watching a light blush creep across her face.
“Plenty.” She mumbled before going over to the roller skate counter.
She hung around Jeff most of the time. He’d never been skating before and she had offered to help him, slinging his arm around her shoulders to keep him steady. Eddie had come up behind her, ripping the now lilac bow from her hair and cackling when she almost lost your balance. She mouthed a “fuck you” as he smirked, skating backwards as he flipped her off.
“What’s his deal? Jeez.” Jeff mumbled, wobbling before steadying himself on her shoulder.
She shrugged as her eyes stayed on Eddie, watching as his hair flew around with each sharp turn he took, going up to younger kids and scaring the shit out of them.
She got distracted talking with Jeff, giggling at a story he told her of when Gareth got mad and stabbed his snare drum with his drumstick last summer.
“I never knew he could ever get so mad-“
Eddie came up behind her, knocking his skate behind hers and making her fall down. Jeff almost fell down with her but managed to catch her arm fast enough so her head didn’t hit the floor.
“Eddie!” She shrieked, wincing as her knee cracked against the hardwood floor.
He was doubled over as he laughed before he noticed some blood soaking through her dress where her knee was. His eyes widened as he gulped.
“Rosy-” He quickly skated up to her, bending down to pull her up.
“Stop fucking calling me that!” She roughly threw his arm away from her.
His heart ached when he saw tears in her eyes, glaring at him with hate as she held onto Jeff when he pulled her up.
“Why don’t you sit down.” Jeff softly said as she winced, motioning to the tables on the other side of the barrier.
“I wanna keep skat-”
“Woah woah, absolutely not.” Eddie interjected, stepping closer to her to grab her other arm.
“I’m sorry, do I need your permission?” She spat at him, voice laced with venom.
“I've never seen her be like this..” Gareth whispered to Jeff, which Eddie heard.
His lips turned down. He deserved it, he knew, she was giving him a taste of his own medicine.
Eddie noticed a small trail of blood dripping under the hem of her dress. He ignored her protests, waving off the boys as he pulled her off the rink and over to a secluded corner. She crossed her arms when he sat her down, huffing dramatically and looking away from him.
“You’re a real meanie, you know that?” She mumbled, head still turned from him.
She let him lift her leg and pull her dress just above her knee, settling it over his lap and grabbing napkins from the middle of the table to wipe away the blood. He cringed at the wound.
“You’re a really good skater.. thought you’d catch yourself..” He mumbled as he tied his bandana around her knee, blowing his hair from his face so he could peek at her face.
“Yeah, well not when someone purposely trips me!” She faced him, eyes sad.
“Why do you hate me so much, Munson?” Her voice was low as she watched his fingers play with the bandana.
“I don’t hate you.” He sighed.
“You make fun of my dresses.”
“Yeah well, I’m full of shit. They’re really cute-”
“And you always pull my ribbons out.”
“I’ve kept each one-”
“You refused the lemonade I made for you-”
“I took it home, Rosy.”
She looked at him with shock, eyebrows pinching in confusion.
“You’re really mean to me.” She flatly said.
“And I thought I actually liked you. You used to be kind of nice to me in our writing class.” Her voice was barely audible.
Eddie choked on his spit as his eyes widened at her.
“I.. fuck. Really?”
She didn’t respond.
“I guess I was trying to push aside a little crush that was forming…? I was drowning in denial. I mean, you get attention from so many people- why would I bother crushing over someone that wouldn’t return those feelings.” He ran a hand through hair hair, puffing out a breath of air.
“You’re more stupid than I thought.” She jeered.
“Ouch.” He nervously laughed.
She stared at him, eyes glazed over as he pulled the purple ribbon from his pocket.
“I’ll stop being a brat now, okay? I’m sorry. Really, I am.” He looked at her with those big brown eyes.
She wanted to stay mad at him but couldn’t ignore the flutter in her chest. She chewed the inside of her lip as she looked back, trying to find any sincerity, and there was.
“A crush, huh?” She smirked, giggling at the way he rolled his eyes and turned his head away from her.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Eddie playfully dismissed her before grinning.
“I’ll give this back-” he held up the ribbon “when you let me take you on a date.”
“Pffft.. seriously? As fucking if..” She narrowed her eyes, mocking what he had said a day prior and hiding a smile as he pouted.
“Okay, I deserved that.” He nudged her shoulder playfully before moving her leg so he could take off his skates and stand up. “Anywhere you want, Princess.”
“Well, seeing how you stained my new dress, I don’t wanna walk around like this.” She pointed down to the bright crimson stain.
“I’ll buy you a new one. Let’s go.” He held out a hand and nudged his head toward the exit.
She looked at him in disbelief.
“Eddie, you don’t need to buy me a new dre-”
“I want to, you always look so cute in them.” He shyly smiled at her as he bent down and took her skates off. “Forgot about these.” He mumbled.
Eddie helped her stand, frowning when she winced as she put weight on her injured knee.
“Oh no.. looks like I have to carry you.” He grinned.
“Absolutely not!” She pushed his arms away when he went to swoop her up and struggled against his grip.
“Okay, either you let me carry you..or…” he looked into her eyes, faces only inches apart. “Or.. you let me kiss you.” He blurted out, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Her mouth fell open, heat spreading across her face and to her ears.
“Wha- what!? That’s..” She sputtered.
“You have about 5 seconds to decide or I’ll decide for you.” He mischievously grinned down at her.
She gaped, eyes shifting between his eyes and lips before he dipped his head down and deeply kissed her, pulling back with a loud smack sound. He softly smiled as he nudged his nose against hers before standing up straight.
“I choose both.” He nodded matter of factly.
Her eyes were wide in shock, unable to speak as he swooped her up.
“Your chariot awaits, Princess!”
“E-Eddie!” She smacked at his arm and wriggled around. “Our shoes!!”
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bobfloydsbabe · 1 year
Text
illicit affairs | bob floyd x oc | mob boss au
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gift of intimacy
SUMMARY: Abby shows up at work to a beautifully wrapped gift waiting on her desk, and there's no doubt who gave it to her.
WARNINGS: mob boss au, bob being horny on main, allusions to smut (if you squint), possessiveness (if you squint). strictly 18+/minors dni.
WORD COUNT: 1.2k
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SPECIAL THANKS: To @withahappyrefrain for inspiring me to write this blurb by sending this thot my way. I couldn't stop thinking about it, so here we are. Thank you!
A/N: I had a happy crying meltdown on Friday going through all your comments, reblogs, and asks. Thank you for your love and enthusiasm for this AU, and please feel free to send questions, thots, and musings about Mob Boss Bobby. I love talking to you!
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Abby sucks in a deep breath, feeling her lungs expand in her chest, and blows the air back out through her nose.
She’s dreaded this moment since she left his penthouse on Friday night–satisfied but terrified that she’d let herself go so far with him. 
She’d wanted to, though. She had begged him not to stop, and he hadn’t. 
She takes the last few steps down the corridor and pushes the door to her office open. The door to his office is open and as she passes on the way to her desk, he lifts his hand in greeting.
Abby’s phone almost slips from her hand when she stops in front of her desk.
On it, where her keyboard usually sits, is a big white box with a black ribbon double wrapped around it. Her brows draw together as she puts her phone and purse down near the edge of the desk and examines the box. It’s practically weightless and there’s nothing on the outside to tell her what could be inside.
She watches the ribbon unravel around the box when she pulls it, and lifts the lid slowly, finding creamy white tissue paper inside, but there’s no note. No hint to who could have bought this for her, but she can venture a guess.
The man who sits just a few paces away in his own office, doing who knows what on his laptop. She knows he can see her if he sits at just the right angle, and something tells her he’s found it.
With unsteady hands, Abby reaches for the tissue paper and opens it up. A small gasp leaves her lips at the beauty staring back at her, and she feels heat rush to her cheeks.
Her eyes dart around the room, checking for cameras she already knows aren’t there. She looks to the open door of her boss’ office. There’s no doubt in her mind that he’s the one behind this, the one who must have carefully picked out the steel blue lingerie sitting inside the box.
Returning her gaze to the box, her hands tremble as she runs her fingers across the delicate fabric. Mesh embroidered with velvet lilies in a shade that’s as close to his color as he could probably find. It’s a gift.
Fire courses through her veins at the implication.
She belongs to him now.
“Do you like it?”
Her head whips up and finds Bob leaning against the doorframe of his office.
“I…”
Whatever she wanted to say dies in her throat. 
“If you don’t, I can exchange it for something more suited to your taste.”
He pushes off the doorframe and is standing behind her in just three long strides. His hands land on her hips, the heat of them burning her skin through the black trousers.
“Sir, I can’t accept this.”
She expects his hands to still, expects him to retreat and admonish her for refusing such a beautiful and undoubtedly expensive gift, but he doesn’t. His hands hold on tighter to her hips as his lips find the exposed skin of her neck.
“Do you even know what it does to me when you call me that?” He purrs against her ear, making the small hairs at the back of her neck stand up. “What you do to me?”
She has to stifle a moan at the feeling of his soft lips pressing kisses right below her ear where her pulse races. His large hands move from her hips to her stomach, pressing her back against him. She feels his desire for her, setting her insides alight.
A moan passes from her lips. He’s everywhere, all over her, and her mind is hazy with the feeling of him touching her, kissing her, breathing her in.
There’s a voice inside her head screaming that this is wrong. That she’s getting into bed with the enemy, but a deep groan from Bob when she lifts an arm and grabs his hair, drowns it out. Makes it seem like it wasn’t even there to begin with. 
“You didn’t tell me if you like it or not,” he whispers, teeth nipping softly at the spot where her shoulder meets her neck.
“It’s stunning,” she says. “How did you know my size?”
Abby lets out a small yelp when he spins her around, bringing her face to face with his dark lust-blown eyes, traces of the crystal blue she’s so familiar with nowhere to be found.
His hands trail up to her face where his thumbs brush against her cheeks. “I’ve been thinking about you all weekend,” he says, voice low and husky. “Since you left my bed, my apartment.”
His thumb moves down to her mouth, and he drags the digit along her bottom lip. “My sheets smell like you.”
He leans down and kisses her lips. It’s soft, mouths moving in easy unison. A gentle dance.
He goes to pull away, but Abby wraps her arms around his neck and drags him closer, licking into his mouth. He takes a few steps until her ass meets the edge of her desk and the pen cup rattles at the force of it.
His lips leave hers, dragging down the column of her throat, leaving wet kisses in their wake.
“I know your size,” he groans as he reaches the top of her breasts. “Because no one can forget a body like yours.”
His fingers undo the top button of her shirt, revealing more of her breasts, and he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh.
Abby’s head swims with desire, her eyes closed shut to focus on the feeling of him. Her entire body is burning with need, and if someone couldn’t walk past the office and see inside, she would have let him continue his exploration of her skin.
“Sir,” she pants, heaving for breath. She pulls his hair to get him away from her chest, even though it’s the last thing she wants. Her body is screaming at him to keep going.
“Sorry,” he mutters, just as breathless as she is. “Couldn’t help myself.”
Her heart pounds as she reaches for his tie to straighten it out. “It’s okay,” she tells him and means it.
She turns back around to her desk. The box with the lingerie still sits open, and she reaches out for it, running her fingertips over the fabric again.
“It may be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned.”
“It would look even better on my floor after I take it off you,” he says against her earlobe, before pulling back and walking back to his office, closing the door behind him.
She pulls the chair away from the desk, sinking into the dark leather seat. Unresolved tension hangs in the air and her body feels electric.
She knows she’s in trouble. She came here with a job to do, but getting involved with the boss of a rival organization was definitely not in the job description.
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likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden
TAGLIST: @lovingrobertfloyd, @yanna-banana, @canarysposts, @bradshawsbitch, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @sylviebell, @wkndwlff, @theunmeltables-blog, @rooster-84, @roosters-girl, @bradshawsbaby, @cdauni, @withahappyrefrain, @onethirstyunicorn, @apparently-sunshine, @some-lovely-day, @linkpk88, @joaquinwhorres
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larvaem1lk · 11 months
Text
talk too much
ellie williams x reader
🦋 ok so. this is kinda a little bit based off of me because when i’m around someone i really like i will talk their head off & just be annoying overall LOL. anyway, just reader being a lil too talkative while ellie’s trying to work ! but at the end she just gives in bc she loves her gf duhh
🦋 um no warnings !! thanks for reading :-*
(also sorry if ur name is miranda, kristy or ashlin. i just picked names off the top of my head whoops)
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ellie’s sat at her desk typing on her computer, with a textbook open and desktop lamp casting a soft golden yellow across the thick pages. you’re in a chair beside her, the type with wheels that roll around, chatting and giggling about nonsense. you’re chirpy and awfully energetic being that it was midnight.
since you hadn’t seen your favorite green eyed girl all day, you walked in her dorm worried and confused. though the feeling quickly subsided as you saw her slumped over her desk, eyes glued to the large book in front of her.
greeting her with a quick peck to the cheek, you immediately plopped down on her bed and began rambling about your day, your girlfriend being the perfect person to tell all your thoughts to.
that was about three hours ago, and you were still here, talking and flying through the clouds in your own little world, practically annoying ellie at this point.
you were filling her in on the drama now, but ellie was too busy absorbing information about stars and celestial bodies and the universe. she’d give the occasional ‘mhm’, or ‘oh okay…’ in attempts to seem interested, yet her efforts went unnoticed.
“yeah like i was saying, i just can’t believe that miranda found kristy and ashlin in the bathroom…together? i mean it’s kristina, stuck up and bitchy kristina who i’m sure was straight. that girl—yeah. but then it’s like, i don’t understand what position they’d have to be in for both of them to be on the wall… you know? i dunno! shits crazy, el. like batshit fucking mad. utterly ridiculous. off the charts. luludelulu. like-” you giggle, finding the words coming out your mouth silly and slightly embarrassing.
ellie blows a stale laugh through her nose, hoping that’d satisfy you as she was completely lost in whatever you were talking about. something about girls on girls, but she wasn’t interested. if it didn’t relate to you on top of her, or vice versa, she didn’t care.
she nibbled on her bottom lip as her eyes scanned over the tiny words of the textbook, brows furrowing as she was in deep thought. though she couldn't really focus due to the sound of a pen clicking nonstop. she gives you a glance and mumbles, “you have any work to do babe?” the sound quite literally driving her insane.
you tap the pen on the table now, pretending to draw love hearts around ellie’s name. “mmm, no. i don’t know. i just wanna be with you right now,”
“hm, okay.” ellie widens her eyes while letting a sigh slip out. this was going to be a loonngg night.
you twirl around in the chair for a while, humming a melody before another topic comes to mind. ellie doesn’t even say anything, pleased that you moved on from the pen to humming.
“anyway. i’ve been thinking…” you trail off, eyes meeting the ceiling as you tilted your head to the side in wonder. ellie hums flatly, lifting her head to the computer screen as she begins typing.
“…when we get married one day,” you begin, and ellie hums with more interest in her voice. okay, you were talking about marriage now. not between kristy and ashlin, but you and her. see, she was paying attention.
“y’think it would be on the beach? or, i dunno. maybe… like homey, set up in our cute backyard, once we get a house of course—with like, dina and jesse and joel and my people. just family. oh! oh my gosh! yeah it should definitely be in our backyard. that’s so cute. that’s cute, right el?”
“totally.” ellie agreed, leaning forward to squint through the white noise of the computer.
you chuckle at the monotone of her voice, wheeling forward to get a closer look at her. “totally, she said. when has ellie williams ever said totally?”
“now.” she responds, and somehow her comment is even funnier. you swing your feet back and forth, babbling on.
“ooh, what about las vegas? you know we’ll be eating good. like, good ellie. i think gordon ramsay has a restaurant there. or what if we get married in paris!” you practically squeal, scooting closer to your girlfriend.
you’re only quiet for a few seconds, eyes flitting over her scattered desk before another idea comes to mind. “oh, the eiffel tower… wait! wait.” you place a hand on her shoulder, fingers tapping against the soft material of her hoodie as you try to gather your thoughts.
there’s a brief moment of silence, and ellie’s mind feels calmer. cooler. she exhales a small slip of breath, letting her fingers type efficiently against the keys. besides that, the dorm is quiet. she could even hear the crickets outside chirping. finally. ellie thinks.
don’t get her wrong, she loved your rambles. your rants. your voice in general. but right now she was in work mode, 76% immersed in the material as the other 24% was for you.
that number was slowly ticking down with each second longer you stayed quiet, her completely focused on studying and only studying. she’s glad you took a break though. allowing your voice to rest, taking a moment to soak in the stillness—
“oh my fucking gosh! italy! we should get married in italy!”
nevermind.
ellie flinches. she flinches so hard that a cramp forms in her neck, squeezing and throbbing with a heat that burns through her upper back. “fuck,” she curses under her breath, rubbing at the spot. it’s like a tiny ringing appears in her ears at the sound of your voice; you’re babbling now, eyes wide as you shake ellie’s shoulder in excitement.
she lets you shake her as she tries to turn to you, tense and cautious of your next possible outburst.
“baby,” she says in an attempt to calm you, but you don’t hear her. obviously. too busy arranging wedding plans in your head.
“just—imagine the love, the romance. oh ellie, i really think we should do it! we’re gonna have to fly everyone out, and—ohhh the food…”
she smiles, feeling her heart swell against her chest. you were the cutest thing. oh, she was being such a dick. just let your girl ramble about wedding plans ellie, is your studying really that important?
yes. it was. so important in that all of the knowledge she had consumed tonight was to be used for a huge exam tomorrow that she could not fail. she couldn't fail. i can’t fail it.
but look at you, with your big bright smile, and your pretty sparkly eyes. the way you’re so excited about marrying her makes her wanna kiss you. kiss you. oh shit, that’s it.
“oh my gosh ellie, the food. would it be stupid to serve pizza? ‘cause y’know, some people don’t like pasta. but we’re in italy, and it’s literally… so like…everyone loves pizza! ugh, what should we serve?! and who the fuck doesn’t like pasta? hey, d’yknow if dina or joel—”
you’re cut off when her lips meet yours abruptly, both of her hands grab each side of your face to pull you closer. the kiss doesn’t deepen. it doesn’t escalate. your lips are just pressed to hers for a very, long time.
you try to wiggle free but ellie doesn’t let go. your lips smush together when you try to talk, and ellie sighs internally. the only thing you had done all night was talk, talk, talk. ellie didn’t wanna be mean, but damn, what else did you have to say?
she pulls away with an agitated groan, and you try to catch your breath while licking your lips.
“wha—what was that for? i was talking—”
“yeah, babe. you were talking. give it a rest, alright? geez,” she shakes her head and sighs out a breathy laugh before turning back over to her computer. “i can’t focus with you in my ear like that.” she mutters, not realizing that she’d just stabbed a knife through your heart.
you’re quiet, cheeks burning in embarrassment. you bounce your leg as you stare at the side of her face before looking at her computer, a wave of sadness creeping over you.
a few minutes pass, and it’s still quiet. too quiet. your mind is still whirring and picturing the perfect wedding for you and your girlfriend, and all you wanna do is talk about it. talk, talk, talk.
you bite your lip to prevent any sudden outbursts or peeps that might irritate ellie. you fiddle with your hands in your lap, and when ellie glances over to your pitiful frame, she frowns.
okay… shit. maybe i kinda fucked up. lemme see what’s wrong.
she types out the final words of her sentence before turning to face you, tilting her head to see your facial expression as your head is hung low.
“hey, babe,” she whispers, and you lift your head with a sigh.
“hm.” is all you say, your spark dimmed and nearing burnout.
ellie places a hand on your knee. her hand is cold and rough, which makes a ding go off in your mind.
“you know they say cold hands mean a warm heart.” you mumble, eyes shifting down to your fingers to continue fiddling with them. you had to let it slip it out, whether she liked it or not. you were sure after this that you’d keep your responses to a minimum, though.
ellie chuckles. you were always the type to say little phrases like that. “yeah? who’s they? ‘cause i dunno if that’s really true—”
“it is true! and don’t ask me. that’s what they always say… and it’s really true, because your—” you cut yourself off, a faint smile on your lips, but it soon falls once you realize you were supposed to be giving the almost silent treatment.
“…well? i’m intrigued now. you can’t just leave me hangin’ like that y’know.”
“ellie… i’ll tell you later.”
“later? why not now?”
you shrug, and ellie scoffs.
“hey, don’t be like that, i wanna know!” she nudges your arm with a smile, trying to pick up your mood. your facial expression remains, unamused.
“okay,” ellie sits up straighter and faces her desk to slam her computer, her book right after. that gets your attention, your head whipping up in confusion. she turns back to you, intent on giving you her undivided attention.
“alright. talk to me.”
you groan, trying to refrain from smiling. “ellie, i can’t-”
“you can.”
“but i was being really rude while you were working, and then you told me to basically shut up so i—“
ellie feels regret bubble in the pit of her chest, sizzling and erupting into her veins. she felt hot now. guilty.
damn, i really fucked up. “babe, i-i didn’t…” she pauses as she slides a hand down her face. “i didn’t tell you to shut up. not... in that way. i was just, a little overwhelmed, that’s all. i’m sorry, okay? truly. you know i love it when you talk to me. so… c’mon. lemme hear that pretty voice of yours.”
you feel bashful, eyelashes fluttering as your gaze meets the floor. you wanna give in, you really want to… but you quickly shake your head, no. she’s gotta finish her work. “but… you need to work, el. i told you i’ll just tell you later.”
her brows furrow, “uh, what work? right now is dedicated to me and my girl.” her green eyes shimmer a silver in the glow of the lamplight as she searches your face, and you feel shy under her gaze, your heart beating a little bit faster. you sigh quietly, a grin finding itself on your lips. “you sure?”
ellie shrugs. “of course. tell me allll about it.” she rests her elbow on her desk while leaning her head in her hand. 
“okay.” you beam, starting another one of your rambles. ellie can’t help but stare at you in awe.
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salmonskinrolltf · 1 year
Text
Sir
A story commissioned by @jerisch
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It might not look like it, but Ethan is on his way to a job interview. Believe it or not, this is his lucky interview outfit. Every job he’s really wanted, he’s dressed like this. The rugby shirt subtly (or not-so subtly) reminds interviewers that he’s good on a team, but the package-hugging shorts appeal to the animal side of their brains to remind them that, whatever team he’s on, he’s still the alpha dog. Usually, when the salary is too low, he can just subtly intimidate the interviewer by flexing or leaning in close, and he gets what he wants.
And he really wants this job. Mann & Snyder is the most sought-after law firm in the state, and even being a paralegal there would be twice the salary that he was currently making. In fact, he heard that the partner he’d be working for, Mr. Sanderson, is so filthy rich, he has his own mansion and a staff of 12. Ethan was practically salivating just thinking about being at a company that would allow him to be that rich.
When he arrived, the interview was going according to plan for a while. But when he was asked if he had any questions, he started trying to adjust the job to his expectations. He leaned in close to the woman behind the desk, letting her smell his intoxicating pheromones. “Look, we both know I’m overqualified to simply be a peon here. I work best as a leader, so how ‘bout I take a senior paralegal position right off the bat?” He leaned back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head. His armpit hair poked out of the tight sleeves of the shirt, which were straining to cling to his flexed biceps. He knew all this. In fact, it was a very calculated power move. He could tell she was totally on his hook. He wondered if she’d try to sleep with him, like a couple of his interviewers had. He wouldn’t mind, she was pretty stacked. The woman blinked, then smiled. “You would actually be perfect for Mr. Sanderson’s personal team. Let me just fetch him.” She exited the room, her stiletto heels clicking on the wood floor of the office.
Holy shit! Ethan pumped his fist. He thought the best he could ask for was a pre-hire promotion, not an actual sit-down with the big boss himself and an immediate offer of a gig. This was going better than he could have anticipated! 
When Mr. Sanderson entered the office, he was heralded by a cloud of musky cologne that filled the room before he even entered. Pheremonal, Ethan could tell. He was wearing some himself, but this dude must have access to some really expensive, potent stuff. But Ethan could work with this. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to dominate this incredibly powerful, rich man, not if he wanted this job, but he could stand his ground and prove his worth. He puffed up his chest and struck a power pose.
But as soon as Mr. Sanderson stepped through the door, Ethan found himself avoiding eye contact, averting his gaze in a sign of subconscious deference. The man sat down heavily at the desk and as much as Ethan attempted to meet his eye, he just… couldn’t.
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Mr. Sanderson didn’t even ask him any questions, just gave him a once-over and handed him a card. “Alright, my boy. You’re perfect to be a part of my personal team. Go over to the address on this card to pick up your uniform.”
This wasn’t an offer. It was a command. Against his better judgment, Ethan kept his mouth shut, took the card, thanked Mr. Sanderson, nodded tightly, and headed out the door. What the fuck was going on? A uniform? Everybody at the office seemed to be wearing normal business clothes, not anything particularly special that he couldn’t have picked out himself. Oh well, he shrugged to himself. Might as well get some new duds for the new job. Free is free.
He took the subway to the stop nearest the address on the card, and was deposited at the outskirts of the city. He had to walk through several miles of increasingly suburban roads before he reached the front gate of what turned out to be a palatial estate. He buzzed the gate and flashed the card in his hand at the camera watching his every move, and with a chunk, a small human-sized door in the side of the elaborate wrought iron fence swung open.
He walked through it, admiring the topiary animals, fountains, and - holy shit were those decorative peacocks?! - that dotted the grounds. If he was required to come here a lot for work, he could get used to this. There was a lot he’d do differently, but he’d definitely steal some of the design ideas for his own mansion someday.
When he approached the house, he was ushered into a side hall by a sharply dressed manservant. Holy shit, were these… servant’s quarters? In an American house? He’d never seen anything like this. The man brusquely gestured for him to enter one of the rooms - a furnished but empty bedroom with bare off-white walls. Next to the bed was a rolling rack loaded with hangers bearing freshly pressed clothes. A suit and a dinner jacket, it looked like. Weird. Was he going to be inducted into some sort of exclusive men’s club before his first day?
“I’ll leave you to it,” said the servant. “Please get completely changed, when you’re ready. I mean completely. We have provided every single stitch of clothing that you will need.” His gaze lingered on Ethan’s crotch before he shut the door.
Ethan shrugged. Even if that servant had, like, cameras or something watching him, he didn’t mind being nude. He had a great body. He shucked his clothes, including socks, shoes, and underwear. He found a brand new pair of crisp, black briefs in a neatly stacked pile of accoutrements on the bed and put them on. As soon as the underwear was fully on and adjusted, Ethan froze in place. What the fuck? He couldn’t move!
After trying in vain for several minutes to do anything but blink, he heard the door behind him creak open and Mr. Sanderson stepped in.
“I’m glad you’re here, boy. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it. That cologne and the underwear only work on pure alphas. The type of subservience I require is extreme, and in order to be created, it needs a lot of raw material to convert.” He ran a finger down the ridges of Ethan’s abs, but Ethan couldn’t move or talk, only eliciting a small squeak from behind his clenched jaw.
Mr. Sanderson leaned in close to Ethan’s ear and whispered. “You were just some jock asshole before. You weren’t actually going to get anywhere in life. Things are going to be so much better now, just you see. First things first, you’re obviously aware that this underwear is... special, but you only know the half of it.”
He snapped his fingers and Ethan felt his limbs loosen. Thank fuck! He turned to run out the door, but Mr. Sanderson barked a command. “Don’t leave this room, Ethan.”
Sanderson’s deep voice resonated in Ethan’s chest and he felt his dick harden in his underwear. What the fuck was going on? 
“The underwear has taken full effect now, my boy. All your sexual humours have been rerouted to one singular place. The thing that you desire most in the world now is to make me happy, keep me safe, and keep me satisfied. It turns you on so fucking much to follow my orders, doesn’t it, boy?”
Ethan started to shake his head, but was suddenly wracked with fear that doing that might displease Mr. Sanderson. He elected to do nothing. But he found a hope blooming in his chest that Mr. Sanderson might need something else from him. Anything. His boner was already deflating with worry. 
Mr. Sanderson smiled. “Touch your toes, boy.”
Fuck! Yes! A command! And one that he could do, quite easily! Ethan bent over and touched his toes, his dick rising to full mast, squashed as it was between his hips and torso. Surges of pleasure flowed through him, but why? He wasn’t even gay! But making Mr. Sanderson happy just felt so… fucking… good. He wanted to do more. He wanted to feel like this, but even more.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?” he asked, his voice bouncing from the linoleum floor beneath him.
“Why yes there is, Ethan, thank you for asking,” said Mr. Sanderson in a treacly voice. And good work calling me Sir. I didn’t even have to tell you to.” Ethan felt aglow with pride. Sanderson spoke again. “Put on these pants.” 
He handed Ethan a pair from the rack beside him. Ethan gladly did so, zipping up carefully around his hard cock. An electric shock jolted him as he fastened the button.
“Very good, Ethan.” said Mr. Sanderson, and another surge of pleasure flowed through the jock’s body. “Now, every good man needs a sturdy foundation. These pants will give you that.”
The firm torso that Ethan worked so hard to wax so his muscles could stand out began to sprout a dense mat of brown hair, swirling across his chest and blooming up from his pants in a dark treasure trail. Several of the hairs began to fade in color, greying before his eyes. His clean-shaven face sprouted a lush beard, also speckled with grey. It burst forth with such force that the scraggly hairs nearly reached his chest. It was as if he hadn’t shaved for years. He blinked and slight crow’s feet nested around his eyes as the slightest bit of grey peppered his temples as well.
“Tell me how old you are, Ethan,” said Mr. Sanderson.
“25,” said Ethan, his cock straining against the tight pants.
“Think harder, Ethan. How old are you, really?”
Ethan had told Sanderson the truth, but he was all too happy to oblige. He racked his brain to recall his birth year. It was 199… something, right? No. 1985. That number bubbled up from somewhere deep within him. “I’m 37, Sir.”
“Ah yes, that’s right. Thank you, Ethan.”
Ethan smiled like a puppy dog, happy to have pleased Mr. Sanderson. The man gave him a new command and he felt his spine turn to jelly at the thought of being able to please him again, so soon after the last time. “Now put on this shirt. I’m sure it will be a perfect fit.”
Ethan slid his arms into the crisp white shirt, fastening it around his torso. Once he was fully buttoned and had fastened the cuffs as well, he felt light-headed. He noticed that his pecs were no longer straining against the shirt. Indeed, they seemed to be shrinking as he watched, giving him a still strong but much more narrow physique, his waist pinching as well, as his abs receded into a faint 4-pack. He began to despair at the thought of all the exercise he’d have to do to build that muscle back up, but he quietly hoped that Mr. Sanderson would command him to exercise again, because then it would be so much more satisfying than simply building his body. Fuck, he wanted to give that man everything he ever wanted. It felt so good.
“Put this on, too.” Mr. Sanderson said, handing Ethan a black jacket. “We want you to fit in with high society.” As he affixed the button on the front, Ethan suddenly stood up straighter and put his hands behind his back. For some time he had been afraid of saying the wrong thing and upsetting Mr. Sanderson, but now he realized he shouldn’t speak at all unless he was spoken to! Of course! What was he thinking, even considering talking directly to Sir? What a fool he had been.
“Now take this and get your hair looking nice. You will always be neat and tidy from now on.” Sir handed Ethan a tub of hair gel and he sat down at the vanity in the room, making sure every strand of his hair was neatly parted. He felt a slight tingle through his body as he did so, not realizing that his profuse chest hair was pulling back into its follicles, trimming itself to a tidy little thatch, just enough to give his torso flavor without seeming unkempt. His beard also receded almost entirely, leaving just a dash of salt and pepper stubble around his mouth. He desperately wanted to rub his dick, which was still hard as a rock and leaking pre-cum into his new underwear. But he figured he should wait and see if Sir wanted anything else before committing such impropriety. Besides, obeying one of his commands would give him so much more satisfaction than simply jerking off.
When he was getting back up to stand at attention in front of Sir, he noticed a thin layer of dust at the top of the mirror. As soon as Sir left, he vowed to give the room a proper dusting. Everything spic and span, even in his own quarters. Wait, what was that? He didn’t live here, he lived in an apartment by- His thoughts were interrupted by a brand new command.
“Now put on these shoes. You know what they say about walking a mile…” Sir placed two leather loafers on the floor in front of Ethan, and handed him a pair of black socks. He eagerly put everything on. Once he was fully kitted out, he began to feel a bit dizzy. He kept his posture ramrod straight, forcing himself to look good in front of Sir, but his eyes began to blur somewhat.
A torrent of memories came flowing through his head, rewinding back to the beginning of his life. Working at various legal firms, working out, playing rugby with his college team, flirting with teachers to get better grades in high school… As each image flashed through his brain, it receded into nothingness and he couldn’t recall what he had just seen. His mind scrolled all the way back to his very first memory (attending a baseball game with his dad) and for a brief, terrifying moment, he felt totally empty. Everything was dark and black.
Then, with a rush, his memories returned and he heaved a sigh of relief. Mon dieu, he thought he’d forgotten everything, but there it all was. Being born in a small town in France, moving to Paris as a teenager, getting work at a series of increasingly high-end restaurants before being discovered by Sir, who brought him back to America, taught him English, and paid him handsomely, so he could send money back to his parents in France. He owed Sir everything, and Sir took everything. He had no life of his own, no friends in this country. But he didn’t need friends. He had Sir, and doing his bidding provided him with the most immense satisfaction he could ever imagine.
“Yves? Yves.” Someone was saying his name. Merde, it was Sir! How could he have let his mind wander so far when Sir was waiting to give him a command? Yves snapped back to attention. 
“One final thing, Yves.” Yves gladly stood stock still while Sir affixed a bow tie around his neck. “This is more than just a bow tie, Yves. This is a symbol. A collar. You belong to me, now and forever, from here on out. Do I make myself clear?"
Yves nodded serenely. “Oui, Monsieur. Perfectly clear. Is there anything else I can do for you today, Sir?” His French accent still clung thickly to his vowels, though his English had gotten much better in the past decade since Sir had taken him under his wing. 
“Now that you mention it, Yves, I do have a big meeting tonight, and a lot is riding on me at work. I need you to help me relax before I go in.”
Yves gleefully nodded his understanding. He loved the afternoons before big meetings. When Sir was away, Yves could spend all his time working the entire mansion to a spotless shine without any guests to bother him. Tonight, if he had extra time, he wanted to polish the silver as well. When he was serving Sir his breakfast this morning, the fork he was using looked slightly tarnished, which mortified Yves to no end. But while that was exciting in and of itself, his favorite part of meeting nights was…
Yves sunk to his knees and unbuckles Sir’s belt, the older man’s long, heavy cock flopping out when he unzipped his trousers. Yves got to work, licking up and down the behemoth, making sure it was evenly coated and slick before he took the entire thing in his mouth, all the way to the root, and began working himself back and forth.
It didn’t take long for Sir to cum, filling Yves’ mouth with rockets of jizz that he eagerly swallowed down, his own cock erupting inside his suit pants when he swallowed the last drop. Sir redid his pants and stroked Yves’ hair. 
“Good work, Yves, as always. Not a drop spilled. A perfect blowjob with zero mess, now there’s a trick. There’s nobody else I’d rather have be my head butler. You should be very proud.”
As Sir exited, Yves beamed. He was. He was proud. The compliment from Sir made his dick plump up again in his shorts, even though he had just cum. As he ran to the wardrobe to get a new pair of underwear (he would hand wash the other pair as soon as he was done with the silver), he shivered with pleasure, thinking of the night ahead. But first, he knew Sir always enjoyed a post-coital glass of champagne, so he fetched it, eager for the potential compliment that might come when it was delivered. Or better yet, another command.
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w1ldthoughts · 7 months
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The Forgotten One Chapter Eight: Dear Diary
Series Masterlist
A/n: Two chapters left!!! Thank you again for reading, I love you all.
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“I’m going to murder that fucking little weasel. I knew I didn’t like him.” Cleo spits out.
You ignored her threats and focused on the task at hand. “We need to get to Churchill Downs now and tell Jack what’s going on before Ben comes back from visiting his family in California. And before you say what I think you’re about to say, yes, he’s in California for sure. My doctor cleared it so I dropped him off at the airport yesterday and he posted on his Instagram story from Cali this morning. We’ll get Jack’s lawyers on it and bury these bitches and their fuckass baby.”
You covered your mouth after you spoke to stifle a laugh. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t say bad things about an unborn child, they have nothing to do with this.”
Cleo sighs, “fuck them and fuck that baby. I do not care.”
The two of you erupted with laughter, until you were reminded of reality. “How did I forgive the cheating the first time? Back when I thought that he cheated I mean.”
“It took a minute and emotions were high but you did agree to give each other space and your relationship was pretty much hanging in the balance.” She sniffs a little. “There were a lot of tears shed and a lot of honest conversations. But at the end of the day Jack’s story from that night was just full of holes. He had no memory of sleeping with the girl and he’s too powerful and influential of a figure to put himself in such a compromising position and deep down I think you knew that. He might have gotten too comfortable with another woman who just caught him at his worst but I don’t actually think that you thought for a second that he would cheat on you. You were more upset about fighting with him.”
Oh yes, the fight. Another thing you were still trying to piece together. One battle at a time, you tried to remind yourself.
You had to practically run around Churchill Downs in order to keep up with Cleo’s long strides. She’d been waiting for the moment that you and Ben ended things and you knew she is and always will be team Jack. His assistant Sadie was sitting at her desk with a weird look on her face.
“Mr. Harlow is out of the office until next week. And he also told me that he did not want to see either of you. So I suggest you move along.” She gave the two of you a smirk, her condescending tone would have bothered you had it not been for the mission you were currently on.
“Well can you tell him that we need to speak to him…it’s an emergency.” Cleo demanded, urging Sadie to pick up the office phone after she rolled her eyes. It rang a few times before the woman relayed the message, waiting patiently on the line for a response.
There was that smug ass look again. “He asked if it was work related.”
You and Cleo looked at each other before she spoke, “um, not exactly. But—”
“If it’s not work related then he says there’s nothing for you to talk about. Please shut the door on your way out ladies, have a wonderful rest of your day.”
Cleo mocked her and they stared each other down as you walked out the door to figure out your next move. You immediately called Jack on your phone. There were a few rings and then a busy signal. Cleo tried on her phone and was met with the same results.
He had blocked the both of you.
“You did tell him to forget you. This is definitely a solid way of doing it.” Your best friend tries to reason. This whole thing was all your fault and now you had to find a way to fix it.
“We need to take care of this ourselves then,” you began as you walked back to her car, more determined than ever.
Cleo started driving off with a confused look on her face, the last few hours had really blown her mind. “We already have all the files from Reed and the video footage from the room. It’s a pretty clear cut case of extortion, what else is there for us to do?”
“We have pictures of Quinn, pictures of Jack and pictures of them together. Then we have pictures of Ben and Quinn together and a weird video from a hotel room that was likely not legal activity and will probably not be admissible in court. It’s pretty much their word against mine and all they have to say is that I’m mentally incompetent because of my brain injury. And now that Jack is out, I have no solid leg to stand on or a team of powerful lawyers at my disposal.”
She let out a groan and a deep sigh, you were right. “So what the hell are we going to do?”
“I’m going to get Ben to confess. Pretend to be on his side and use whatever feelings he has, real or not against him. He faked it with me for months, I can do it for a few hours. And I have time to prepare. In the meantime, I need to focus on recovering memories.” You walked back into your apartment and pulled out a journal in your desk drawer. “Everything that I know so far has gone in here, I’m going to put all of the pieces together from this and put it on my laptop so I have it all laid out in front of me.”
“They messed with the wrong bitch, I love it. I will let you get to work and I will figure out how to build a solid case and get exactly what we need.” You hugged her, thanking her for everything. “I love you, you know I got you…always. We’re going to make them regret ever doing this to you and Jack, okay?”
“Okay. And I love you too, always.” Cleo locked the door behind her and you got to work.
A few months earlier…
Finding a work-life balance was becoming more of a struggle. There was work y/n who was early to every meeting and knew the history of the company like the back of her hand as well as having a clear cut vision for the expansion of Churchill Downs Inc. in the future. Then there was home y/n, who had been adjusting to living with her boyfriend full-time and figuring out how their lives actually worked together. Like who was doing the dishes at night and little shit that really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but was suddenly super important. And then there was Jack Harlow’s girlfriend y/n, the public figure who everyone wanted to dissect…all the fucking time. It was slowly killing you and your boyfriend couldn’t see that.
“I just don’t understand why you can’t come to one more event this week. The mayor will be there and all of these people that I need to get cozy with so I can continue to have their respect. It’s gonna look kind of ridiculous if I show up there without you.”
It felt like you’d been having very similar little arguments all month and this was just the final straw. “There is no just. It’s always going to be ‘one more thing’ and I’m tired of being paraded around as just the girl on your arm. I’m your Director of Operations, I present in front of the Board of Directors once a month,” you paused to collect yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose with a sigh, “Jack I need to be respected at work. Not just be the girlfriend who slept her way to the top.”
“Nobody is saying that about you.” He says, sounding exasperated.
“They don’t have to. It’s written all over their faces. And when I nod and smile like I’m supposed to? Everyone keeps looking at me like I’m this ungrateful bitch. Like you’re some grand prize that I won and I’m supposed to sit there and celebrate. I’ve lived an entire life without you and now I’m just supposed to live the rest of my life for you? Fuck no.”
Jack shakes his head, “maybe sometimes you can just pretend that I am the fucking prize! Not everything has to be this huge fucking deal, I just need you to do this one thing for me, take a few stupid pictures and we’ll come home and relax.”
“You don’t get it because this has been your entire life. My god, you have no idea the pressure that I’m under because I spend so much time reassuring you that you’re doing amazing and that you’ve earned everything you have, but where’s my reassurance? I don’t want fucking extravagant gifts all the time. I want my partner to see for who I am, fuck the optics.”
Love is hard sometimes. But you don’t fight for something—someone this hard unless you love the shit out of them. That’s what the fight was about. Two people who are experiencing opposite sides of a very public relationship while simultaneously trying to keep the company they love afloat. Sounds melodramatic when you really sit and think about it but when emotions are running high and you mix business with pleasure, things are bound to get messy. But then you take a step back, realize that no fight is worth losing the love that you worked so hard to nurture and then everything just kind of falls back into place. You woke up from that memory recognizing that things really were so much simpler than you thought. You and Jack had a normal, loving relationship and when there were inevitable disagreements, you communicated through them and found your way back to each other. Nothing that happened between the two of you was actually life altering, except the time you were living in now.
Suddenly needing some comfort from him, you went back through some of your old texts. Jack was cracking jokes of course and you delivered witty responses. There were days when he was out of town and would text you just to tell you he loved and missed you. But there were things in there that he said that felt so familiar.
Everything about you makes me want to be better, try harder, do more.
God, you’re the most powerful woman I know. I can’t get enough of you.
You laughed to yourself, out loud in the living room. These were all things Ben had said to you. Everything you thought you liked about him actually came from the person you were trying so hard to let go of. You pulled out your laptop to put in a new entry to include in your timeline of events.
Dear Computer Diary,
I have been dating Jack the entire time.
Five days later…
Jack was hiding out in his parent’s house ever since he got back from New York. He couldn’t keep going back to that big, empty house alone for another night. Fuck that. All he wanted to do was eat his feelings and for everyone to stop asking him if he was okay. So that’s what he’d been doing…the last three days.
His mom barged into the guest house early in the morning on day four of his personal retreat. “Sweetheart, you can’t keep going like this. It’s depressing.” Maggie sighs.
“Can’t I just mourn my relationship in the comfort of my childhood home in peace? What’s so wrong about that?” He willed himself not to cry. Not this time. Not again.
“What’s wrong is that my son is willingly letting the most important person in his life walk away without a fight. Since when do you do that?”
He laid his head in her lap as she ran his fingers through his hair and it made him feel like a kid again. Safe, cared for and protected from the harshness of the world. “I don’t want to fight for someone who has specifically asked me not to. Getting kind of tired of having the door slammed in my face over and over.”
“Honey, what you and y/n have? That shit doesn’t just grow on trees or fall out of the sky. It's the kind of love that takes work, you cultivated and watered it carefully for so many years. And now you’re ready to just…throw it all away?”
Jack knew his mom had a point. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying…” she gave him room so he could sit up and look her in the eye, “you took a backseat. Moved at her pace which was sweet and admirable. But you showed her friendship, you didn’t show her romance. You didn’t show her love. You placed her in situations to stimulate her memories. And instead of actively pursuing her as who she is now, you tried to get her to be the person she doesn’t remember she was.”
She was right, he had been so focused on getting you to remember what was, that he didn’t even appreciate what is. He knew you were placing so much pressure on yourself to hurry up and recover and get back to normal that he hadn’t realized his part in it. And when you ran away from your pain in a frenzy…he let you go out of the immense hurt the two of you had been causing each other. He felt those familiar tears brimming his eyes and his mom gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead, giving him some time to himself. It was a quick cry, just so he could get that final weight off his shoulders. After he collected himself, he grabbed his phone and knew exactly who to call.
“Urb? Hey. Yeah I’m good bro, I’m good. Listen, I need your help with something. Can we meet somewhere in two hours? All right brother, I’ll see you there.”
They had some fucking work to do.
Taglist
@jackharloww
@killatravtramp
@middlechild404
@harlowcomehome
@itsyagirljaz
@iknowdatsrightbih
@earthtoharlow
@alimaythings
@rosie-posie08
@heavyhitterheaux
@hoodharlow
@jackiehollanderr
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ejzah · 1 month
Text
A/N: Once again, a tiny idea morphed into a much longer than intended fic. Enjoy the angst!
***
Relapse
Kensi had learned after Deeks was tortured by Sidorov that in addition to withdrawing from everyone around him when he was in a state of distress, he forgot to take care of himself as well. It had taken her a while to pick up on the pattern, but now, especially after living together for three years, she knew all the signs. He tended not to eat often enough, his meticulous cleaning schedule became disrupted, and he either barely moved at all, or spent hours exhausting his body in an attempt to quiet his mind.
So one week in the middle of summer when Kensi noticed the counters hadn’t been wiped down in a few days, and the laundry hamper was nearing capacity—something that never occurred since they moved in together—she took note. It wasn’t a cause for massive alarm, but enough that she decided to keep a close eye on Deeks. They’d just come off a horrific case that lasted over three weeks and had them all running on fumes.
Maybe he just needed the time to recuperate, she reasoned. She’d certainly been on edge and snapped at everyone more than usual, including Deeks, who had the misfortune of spending their few hours away from work with her.
On Tuesday, they had a fairly slow day, the latter part of which they spent cleaning out in-boxes and catching up on the procedures that got overlooked during intense cases. It gave them a much needed opportunity to bond and unwind.
Inevitably, Sam and Callen ended up in argument over who had actually taken down their most recent criminal.
“Nope, I definitely reached him before you did,” Callen insisted in that tone that meant he was just arguing for the joy of watching Sam grow more irritated. Kensi dipped her head to conceal a smile.
“Are you kidding me? You weren’t even close. He’d still be on the run if we left it to you,” Sam objected, shaking his head in exasperation.
“I don’t know, Sam, Deeks is the one who distracted him,” Kensi pointed out. She waited expectantly for Deeks to jump in with his own comment, but none came.
Kensi realized he’d been quiet through most of the teasing and banter, when normally he’d be egging Sam right alongside Callen. His body was turned slightly away, gaze focused in the direction of the back wall. She wondered if he saw anything at all.
The silence grew long enough for it grow slightly awkward, and Kensi hastily added, “I’m just saying it’s a group effort.”
“Yeah, you can keep your “group effort”, Sam made air quotes around the last two words. “I’m the one who tackled him, and that’s all that matters.” He jabbed a button on his laptop keyboard. “And I’m outta here. Don’t even think of calling me before 6 tomorrow morning.”
Callen left shortly after Sam, followed by Eric and Nell, who seemed in a hurry.
“You want to grab tacos on the way home?” she asked once she finished her own paperwork, leaning across the front of Deeks’ desk. “I’ll buy.” She let her tone drop flirtatiously, shimmying her shoulders.
“Uh, I’m really behind on my LAPD paperwork,” Deeks answered without looking up. “I think I’m going to stay a little bit later.”
“This is the first night we’ve gotten out before 7 in weeks.”
Finally looking up, Deeks sighed heavily, swiping his hair out of his eyes with a careless hand. Even in the dim light, she could tell his eyes were bloodshot.
“I know. LAPD will get on my case if I wait any longer though. I’ll just be a couple hours, ok?” He gave her a pleading, regretful look, that Kensi was powerless to ignore.
“Ok.” She leaned closer, tipping his chin a little higher to kiss him. “Don’t be too long,” she said.
“I won’t,” Deeks promised, returning her kiss with a brush of his lips. “Love you.”
***
It was a full four hours later when Kensi heard the front quietly open and shut. She’d tried not to wait up, even going to bed, but too many thoughts and worries circled through her brain to get anywhere close to sleep. She tracked Deeks’ movement through the house; he stopped in the kitchen, got a glass of water, checked on Monty in the living room, then finally headed to their room.
Kensi rolled over onto her side when he walked in, knowing there wasn’t any point in pretending to sleep. Deeks stood by the closet, taking off his shoes.
“Hey,” she murmured. He stilled at the sound of her voice, shoulders caving for a second before he turned around.
“Hey. Sorry.”
She didn’t know if he was apologizing for possibly waking her. Or coming home late.
“It’s ok.” Holding out her hand, she waited until he was within reaching distance, and pushed herself up enough to slide her hand around his neck. He let her pull him down, releasing a slightly pained noise. Kensi slid her fingers up into his hair, finding the strands damp.
She didn’t call him on it, just holding him tighter when their lips parted. She felt the tension in his shoulders and back, so tight it seemed he might snap at any moment.
“Come to bed,” she told him, pulling back the covers. When Deeks slid in beside her, she curled around him, hoping took some comfort in her touch.
***
Kensi’s worry skyrocketed as she watched Deeks withdraw more every day. This time around, he tended towards movement, which meant he either woke up early (assuming he’d slept at all) or stayed after work to work out. At the same time, his appetite seemed to have disappeared.
She tried to combat it all by bringing him a donut in the morning or cajoling him into bed and doing her best to soothe him to sleep. It wasn’t enough, but she was hesitant to push too hard.
“Hey, I brought you some soup,” she said one evening as she came back from a food run. Deeks had very noticeably not requested anything.
“I’m not hungry,” he said, not even pausing considering the bucket she plunked down in front of him.
“Baby, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning. It’s after six. You need to have something.”
“Kens—”
“No,” Kensi interrupted sharply, forgetting her decision to remain quietly supportive, to say nothing. “You are tired, you’re not eating, you’re not talking, and I am done letting you fade right in front of me.”
His head sank forward for a moment, and he rubbed his hands over his face, emitting the deepest of sighs. When he looked up again, the shadows in his eyes were even darker, and Kensi’s heart clenched painfully for him.
“I’m just struggling a little right now. I’ll get over it,” he insisted dully. “I always do.”
“You don’t have to do it alone though. You have me,” Kensi reminded him, moving around his desk to crouch in front of him. She grabbed his hands, clasping them between hers. “Let me help you.”
“I want to…” he shook his head, tilting his head back with a sorrowful expression. “It just feels like everything terrible feeling is amplified by a hundred and anything good is dampened.” He smiled sadly. “Only thing that helps sometimes is when you’re holding me at night.”
“I’ll do anything you need, anything. But please don’t push me away. I can’t bear that.”
“I’ll try.” He nodded, eyes damp. Kensi drew his forehead to her shoulder, weaving her fingers into his hair.
“And eat your soup.”
That got a weak out laugh out of him. Drawing back, he grabbed the tub across his desk, popping the lid off.
Kensi knew that one meal wouldn’t magically fix everything, but as he slowly worked his way through the soup, it was a step the right direction.
Under the table, Deeks reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly.
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hahafixon · 8 months
Text
Small Town Living ~ *Choi San*
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Summary: San is moving to your small town and you’re curious as to what brings him here. Of course, your grandmother thinks the two of you should get together. And falling in love with him might be easier than you anticipated…
Pairing: Choi San X G/N!Reader
Genre: Fluffy Oneshot
Word Count: 1900
Warning: a meddlesome grandmother and great aunt
Masterlist
Taglist: @foxwinter​​ @mxnsxngie​ @maeleelee​ @imagine-a-life-like-this​ @kpop-will-kill-me
Many people would say living in a small town was too confining. But you would highly disagree. Nothing beats biking through town, saying hello to all of the locals. Knowing everyone and always looking out for each other, it was your place to be. Besides, you got enough excitement from your grandmother’s bed and breakfast, where you worked. There were enough out-of-towners to keep you satisfied with what was outside of your small town.
Propping your bike outside of the B&B, the bell above the door jingled as you entered. The smell of home and summer hit you and you let out a contented sigh. This was exactly where you belonged. And you couldn’t be happier.
“Good morning, Grandma.” You called out, knowing she would hear you from wherever she was in the building.
“Morning dear! Did you get everything from the store?” She answered from somewhere else.
You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Yes, I’ve got the groceries and toiletries to spare. Anything else you need from me?”
“Oh, thank you, dear. Can you double check the guest book and the ledger? I want to make sure we’re not overbooked this summer. It is the busy season, you know.”
“Of course.”
Pulling out the thick guest book, as your grandmother refused to digitize anything, you started scanning who made a reservation and how long they would be staying. You double-checked everything against the receipts you made sure to receive and the large calendar on the front desk. A smile stretched across your face when everything checked out. You loved when things fell into place like this.
Despite everything being perfect according to the guest book, calendar, and receipts, one name caught your eye.
“Grandma, this Choi San who will be staying with us for a couple weeks, he’s not related to Ms. Choi, is he?” You asked.
Your grandmother, appearing by your side, glanced at the name and the receipt. She nodded, “Yes, she’s his great aunt. Apparently he’s looking to open a taekwondo studio here in town. If you ask me, I think it’s exactly what this town needs.”
You nodded absent-mindedly. “Yes, of course.”
“Oh, dear, before I forget, can you help me clean up room fourteen? The Sol family is going to be checking in late this afternoon.”
This knocked you out of your stupor and you smiled. “Yes, absolutely. We wouldn’t want to leave our customers waiting now, would we?”
She chuckled, pinching your cheek. “That’s why you’re my favorite employee and grandchild.”
The rest of the day went on like normal. You helped check the Sol family into their room, kept the rooms clean, directed guests to points of interest in town, and picked up dinner for you to share with your grandmother. However your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t help but keep thinking about San who was coming tomorrow. 
Ms. Choi was a dear friend of your grandmother and she spoke highly of her great nephew. She said he was a hard worker with a kind heart, friendly disposition, and a handsome face. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in meeting him. But you wouldn’t tell your grandmother that. She was a notorious gossip and matchmaker. She’d try to set you up with him and be planning your wedding before you even had your first date.
You shook your head, banishing the thought from your head. You were being ridiculous. There was no way you were going to fall in love with him. Maybe you could be friends, but definitely not lovers. It sounded way too cliché, like a bad Hallmark movie.
“Did you hear me, dear?”
Glancing at your grandmother, who was giving you a cheeky smile, you sighed and shook your head. “I’m sorry, grandma.”
She waved her hand with a teasing scoff. “Don’t be. Your mind has been elsewhere all day. And don’t deny it! I know you well enough to know when you’re not thinking of work. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were thinking of San all day.”
You practically choked on your food and she let out a bark of laughter. “Ha! I knew it! Oh I will have to tell Ms. Choi about this tomorrow when I meet her for tea and quilting along with the rest of the quilting society, which is what I was trying to tell you earlier. Oh, you’re free to join as well, dear. I’m sure the ladies would love to see you again!”
Trying to recover from almost suffocating, you said, “Shouldn’t someone stay here to look after the B&B? Besides, we have a couple coming to check in late tomorrow, don’t we?”
“You’re right, but still. At least make an appearance.” She encouraged you with a stern nod. “You spend too much time here, dear. I worry about your social health.”
“Believe me, grandma, my social health is just fine.”
“Sure it is.” She rolled her eyes and you groaned.
“Just, finish your dinner, please!”
“Whatever you say, darling grandchild of mine.”
You were tossing and turning all night, trying not to get too hung about tomorrow. San was just another customer. He was just a family member of a friend. He wasn’t special. You just needed to treat him like a normal customer, that’s all.
And so as you anxiously wait at the front desk, you repeat it over and over again. He was just a normal customer. He was just a normal customer. He was just a normal-
A perfectly normal and devilishly handsome customer.
Seriously, it was unfair how handsome he is.
“San?”
He smiled and you swear you were about to smack that frustratingly adorable smile off his face. “You must be Y/n. My great aunt told me about you and your grandma. She wasn’t kidding when she said that you take this bed and breakfast seriously.”
“Should I be flattered or offended?”
His smile fell, replaced with a look of dread. “No! No, no, no! I didn’t mean to offend you! I’m so sorry if I did!”
You laughed at his flustered state. “I’m just teasing. Are you ready to check in?”
He nodded, relief causing his shoulders to sag. “Yes, please.”
As he signed the guest book, which you noticed he had excellent handwriting, you commented, “So what are you doing staying in the bed and breakfast, instead of with your great aunt?”
“Well, her place is really small and she only has one guest bedroom that is so full of quilting materials, it’s basically a wall now. Besides, I was the one who suggested coming here, so that it forces me to find my own place faster and I stay out of her hair. Of course, she insisted that she pay for my stay.” He explained, handing back the pen.
You nodded and put the guest book away. “I completely understand. That’s why we don’t have anyone staying in room twelve. It’s full of my grandma’s quilting and scrapbooking materials.”
San laughed. “Looks like we both have overzealous and crafty relatives.”
A giggle escaped you. “Seems like.”
You handed him the key for room eight and showed him where he would be staying. San commented on how spacious, clean, and bright the room was before thanking you for your help. You listed off the amenities that came with a stay at the B&B, which included free breakfast every day and coupons to local eateries and shops. You also informed him of events going on in the town which made him chuckle, much to your confusion.
Noticing your slight concern, he said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but I couldn’t help it. You sound just like a tour guide. You must really love this town.”
Nodding sheepishly, you admitted, “I do. It’s where I grew up. I have so many fond memories and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. I love how tight-knit everyone is. It’s like we’re all each other’s family. Some people would find this town boring because it’s small, but I find it charming.”
He shook his head. “I don’t find it boring at all. I agree that this place is charming.”
“Is that why you moved here.”
San shrugged. “It’s part of the reason. The other reason is I just needed to get out of the city. It’s too loud and chaotic. I needed something more stable, if that makes sense?”
“Absolutely.”
There was a brief pause before San said, “Actually, I was about to go see my great aunt to let her know I arrived. You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find her? I tried calling her home phone, which went to voicemail, and her cell phone is always off. I just thought I’d ask since you know everything about this town.”
You gave a sheepish smile. “I know where she’d be. She’s with the quilting society, with my grandma. I can show you there since she spends most of her time there.”
“Yes please.”
So the two of you walked through town, you pointing out places of interest and San telling you how the town differed from the city. Conversation came easy with him and you found that every time he placed a hand on your arm to direct you from people walking in the opposite direction, you felt your heart skip a beat. Could it be that your meddling grandmother was starting to get to you? Were you really falling for Choi San? You begged internally to keep him securely in the friend zone, but you knew deep down inside that wasn’t going to happen. Not if your grandmother and his great aunt had anything to say about it.
When you arrived at the quilting society, you opened the door for him, to which he gave you a skeptical look. “You know, it’s customary for the gentleman to hold the door.”
“I’m sure it is but I reached the door first.” You teased back.
“Next time.” He shot you a wink that made you freeze for only a split second.
“Is that my Sannie?” A shout from the back of the building distracted you.
He chuckled before calling back, “Yes Auntie.”
Instantly, the two of you were swarmed by quilting society members. Of course they commented on how much the two of you’ve grown and how it was so good to see you. They bombarded San with questions about his life from infancy to now. You hung back which eventually caught your grandmother’s attention and she joined you.
“So, are you showing San around?”
You nodded. “I just thought since I know so much about this place, he’d like an unofficial-official tour guide.”
She chuckled and patted your cheek. “Such a good kid. And he’s very handsome isn’t he?”
You tried to force your blush away from your cheeks. “He’s not unattractive, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”
“Well I think you two make a cute couple.”
“Grandma-”
Before you could scold her, San and his great aunt came up to the two of you, his aunt with a big smile on her face. “Sannie was telling me how helpful you’ve been, showing him around and telling him all about our little town. We were wondering if you would like to join us for dinner tonight?”
“That sounds wonderful!” Your grandmother answered before you could. “That way we can start planning the wedding!”
“Grandma no!”
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ace-of-zaun · 1 month
Text
The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time: Pt. 8
Silco x f!reader - 7.6k words - SFW
cw:  fluff, angst, anxiety/dread, injury, medical anxiety, health and illness, taking care of people, talk about self-defence and physical assault, get your seatbelts on lads we’ve got another emotional rollercoaster chapter, but with a fluffy ending bc it’s me
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7
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If someone had told kitchen-utensil-salesperson you that one day you’d be having to bribe the Eye of Zaun’s daughter, to keep her quiet about your relationship with said kingpin, you’d have laughed in their faces and told them to get lost.
But alas, here you were.
You’d had a long chat with Jinx about why you weren’t telling people and why she couldn’t tell anyone either. And after surprisingly little convincing from the two of you, Jinx had agreed to keep your secret… for a price. Sweets once a week for every week she kept it a secret. 
Dear Janna, was this girl Silco’s daughter.
She’d also sweetened the deal by throwing in a few extra game nights every month, so that’s how you find yourself sitting at Silco’s desk, Jinx on your lap in the chair opposite his, as you play yet another round of Gun Bun.
Silco is, rather annoyingly, picking incredibly obnoxious words on purpose when it’s his turn, (seriously, how many nine-year-olds know the word egregious?) so you decide that this is the perfect opportunity to mess with him.
At first, you simply decide to spell all of your words wrong, irritating him just a little bit more with every line drawn as he fails to guess the correct letters.
Once he cottons on to that, correcting your spelling like a disappointed teacher, you move onto the next level…
You start making words up.
Jinx giggles and squirms about in your lap when you whisper your nefarious plan to her, earning a narrowed look of suspicion from your criminal(ly gorgeous) boyfriend.
Unfortunately, this tactic only works for one round, because when you finally complete the drawing of Mr. Bunny shooting a gun (complete with the obligatory BANG!) and Silco still hasn’t guessed all the letters, Jinx reveals the word with a menacing glee.
And Silco loses it.
“That is not a word,” he says, immediately glaring at you since you’re the obvious instigator.
He looks so grumpy and so adorably exasperated, you just want to kiss him until he forgets both his own name and just how difficult you like to make his life. 
���It is!” you argue, staring at him whilst you valiantly battle against the urge to smile, before revealing, “I just made it up.”
His whole expression drops into the most incredulous deadpan. 
“Darling.”
“What?” you counter. “All words are made up! It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with me.”
There’s a pause where Silco just stares at you, mismatched eyes glimmering with something just on the edge of dangerous. 
You stare back, raising one cheeky eyebrow in challenge. That does it. 
“I think it is best we retire for the evening,” he says, tone clipped and impatient, though his eyes never once leave yours.
Jinx whines in disappointment, climbing from your lap onto the desk just so she can launch herself into Silco’s lap. She clings to him like a kitten until he finally gives in to her and agrees to one more game, as long as it doesn’t involve any words. 
Which of course means your absolute favourite activity in the whole, wide world. Drawing! 
You teach them both a game you played as a child, one where a piece of paper is folded three times, in a way where you can only see one section at a time. 
The first person secretly draws the head and shoulders, with some lines over the fold into the next section so the second person can join it up. They then flip it over to the next section, where the second person draws the torso and arms, while the last person then draws legs and feet, making sure to keep your separate drawings hidden until the very end, where you reveal the character you’ve all made together. 
You go first to demonstrate, drawing the head of a smiling girl that looks a little bit like Jinx (you know, if Jinx were a squiggly, blue doodle). 
After Jinx and Silco have both drawn their sections, you open up the paper and spread it flat on the desk, revealing, to Jinx’s delight, an absolute monstrosity of a character.
Underneath your smiling face, Jinx has doodled a thin torso with long spaghetti arms that loop round and round until their hands rest on their hips. But it’s nothing compared to Silco drawing his own boots and somehow forgetting that he needed to draw legs as well. 
You play this game for a few rounds, until it’s Silco’s turn to draw first. Except he takes a millennium, sketching with his pen like he’s in the middle of an art class. But it’s only when you spot him gently rocking the chair from side to side, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, that you realise he’s trying to lull Jinx to sleep.
And surprisingly, it works, humming quietly under his breath until she falls asleep in his lap, adorably curled up with her face against his chest. 
Once he’s certain that she’s fast asleep, he lifts his head to give you a knowing look before carefully lifting her and carrying her back to her bedroom. You take the look to mean that you should get changed into your pyjamas so you can both cuddle up when he returns from putting her to bed. 
But when you stand up from your chair, groaning as you stretch your tired body towards the rafters, you take a moment to peek at Silco’s drawing, sliding the paper over the varnished wood until you can finally see. 
And you swear your heart melts in your chest when you look down at it. A portrait of you, looking happier than you’ve ever seen yourself looking. At least, up until you’d moved in with Silco. Now, you’re pretty sure you look like this most of the time. 
You’ve begun to stay in his bedroom a few nights a week, usually when he doesn’t stay up working until dawn like a madman. 
Your (imaginary) spy training has gotten a real workout every morning, ensuring no-one sees you make the dash back to your own bedroom, then getting dressed to go and meet Silco in his office like you hadn’t spent the whole night in his bed.
Honestly, part of you wonders if it would just be easier to move some of your clothes into his bedroom, but you’re not sure if he’d want that. The man does have a lot more clothes than you do. 
And what if he’s not ready for you to both officially move in together? How would you even approach asking? Should you just do it and blame the goblins when he asks if you put them there? (They’re cheeky little bastards, you know, they’ve stolen enough of your socks from the washing machine.)
You’re just preparing to leave the office, peering around the corner of the doorway to make sure there’s no-one in sight. You’d left the kingpin snoring in his bed just moments ago, and it’s far too early for Sevika to be anywhere near The Drop, so you’re pretty confident you’re not gonna be caught.
Crouching down a little feels like a good, sneaky spy move, so you bend your knees slightly, duck your head, and begin to tip-toe down the hallway as quietly as you can.
And honestly, even after only a few steps in, you’re genuinely starting to feel like you could break into one of those fancy art museums Topside and complete the heist of the century. That is, until a low voice calls out behind you.
“What in Janna’s name are you doing?”
Janna herself would be proud of the way you hold in the blood-curdling scream that threatens to erupt from your vocal folds.
Instead of waking up everyone in the entirety of Zaun and probably some of Piltover, you clutch your chest and hiss out a wheezing, “Holy fucking fuck-”
You spin around to glare at Silco who is standing in the doorway to his office, coffee cup in hand as he leans nonchalantly against the frame. 
How didn’t you hear him sneak up? And how the hell did he manage to wake up from being borderline comatose AND make himself a coffee in such a short amount of time? 
You squint at him suspiciously as if that’ll make him reveal all his secrets. Maybe he should be the spy…
Silco looks rather amused as he watches you. 
“Has anyone ever informed you that you possess quite the potty mouth?” he asks, in that raspy morning voice that is far too hot for its own good. 
“Has anyone ever informed you that it’s rude to try to give your girlfriend a heart attack on purpose?” you shoot back.
He holds his free hand to his t-shirt clad chest in mock offence.
“I can assure you, my love, I was attempting no such thing,” he protests with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen in your whole entire existence. 
You point at him as a threat. 
“Boy, don’t test me. I’ll take you out of my will.”
Silco’s face drops into a faux upset, slapping one hand against his cheek dramatically. 
“Oh no, whatever will I do without your collection of novelty ice-cream scoops?” he questions sardonically.
You return it with an overexaggerated gasp, (but deep down you’re secretly pleased he’s starting to play along with your melodrama; oh how the turn tables).
“How dare you!” you exclaim, throwing both hands up to cage your poor, shattered heart, before you turn your nose up to sniff haughtily. “That’s it, I’m breaking up with you.”
Silco swiftly downs the last of his coffee and then tosses the mug onto the sofa behind him blindly, instantly changing your mind on what you just said.
How the fuck did he do that without it breaking into a million pieces? And more importantly, how is he easily the hottest man in the world? 
“I think not,” he practically growls, stepping forward into the corridor. 
“You can’t stop me,” you announce loftily. “Me and the Scoop Troop are outta here.”
He advances on you slowly until he’s leaning down to speak into your ear, the roughness in his timbre sending a shiver down your spine. 
“Then I suppose I shall have to convince you to stay.”
Abruptly, Silco leans down to pick you up, deftly swinging you up into a bridal carry, forcing you to try your best not to squeal and accidentally wake everybody up. 
Then, he turns on his heel and carries you back in his office, kicking the door shut behind you as you giggle breathlessly into his chest. 
Maybe the reason you look so much happier now after moving in with Silco, is because you are. 
-
Of course, spy training in the mornings is not the only kind of training you embark on. 
True to his word, Silco begins to teach you self-defence after the multiple attacks you’ve endured since accepting the job as his negotiator. (To be fair, you’d endured some during your time at the market stall too, but that had been at a significantly lower danger level compared to this.)
So you’re in the bar one early afternoon, a few of the tables pushed out of the way to give you room to properly move about. Silco has given strict orders that no-one is to enter the bar until you’re finished, which had earned a huff of annoyance from Sevika, who would be forced to take the long-winding emergency exit in and out of the building.
Standing across from Silco in the cleared space, you ready yourself to learn some basic defence, hoping it’ll trump your current tactic of just running away really, really fast… (okay, fine, a moderate jog at best).
You’d hoped to learn how to properly use the knife Silco had gifted you in the market, excitedly bringing it along in the hopes that he’ll show you some cool moves.
But he’d confiscated it the very second you’d taken it out of the box and nearly dropped it on your own foot, blade down. 
So… self-defence it is, for now. 
Your boyfriend (smoking hot; an utter bitch; an absolute icon) stands opposite you, hands clasped behind his back as he talks. 
“Today I will show you some basic movements that will allow you to disengage if an attacker were to grab onto you,” he explains, reminding you of your old geography teacher (who was also your everything-teacher because, you know, Zaun). “Then, depending on how well you-”
Silco continues to tell you his lesson plan in detail, but honestly, you stop listening the second you notice that his shirt sleeves are rolled up. And he’s wearing a different waistcoat. It looks a little older than the usual ones he wears, but it’s still hot. Really accentuates his slutty little waist.  
Your cheeks get warm just thinking about it. 
Is it hot in here or is it just you? 
And gods, isn’t he pretty with his hair a little bit messy, those dark waves just the tiniest bit mussed up. And wouldn’t he look even prettier if you ran your hands through it and maybe put your lips on-
“Are you listening?” Silco cuts in. 
Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, positively startled at the interruption. 
“Yes, sir,” you blurt out.
He smirks in response which does not help your predicament in the slightest. 
“Very well,” he nods, bringing both hands to rest on his hips. “We will begin by learning a disengagement technique that would be useful if somebody were to-”
You swear you’re trying to listen.
Honestly.
But that voice. And the way his lips move when he talks. 
And fuck, it’s hot when his throat bobs when he swallows and-
“Are you ready?”
Uh oh, you did it again. 
“Huh?” you mutter, dragging your gaze away from his throat.
“I said, are you ready to try the movements I just explained?” Silco asks, raising one eyebrow expectantly. 
“Of course I am,” you scoff confidently, despite having not listened to a single word he’s just said. “I’m practically a cage fighter at this point. I could take you down faster than you could say 2-in-1 decarboxylator and herb infuser.”
He doesn’t ask. In fact, he’s stopped asking what the hell you’re talking about when you’re both busy because it more often than not just leads to a twenty minute monologue, which he’s more than happy to listen to as you lie in bed together. But not when you’re about to learn important skills like how to defend yourself in a fight.
“Alright then, show me,” Silco responds, stepping closer to you to do whatever the hell he’s been talking about for the last five minutes. 
Suddenly, he reaches out and grabs a handful of your shirt with one hand, scrunching it up right next to your collarbone. 
Your body jolts forward slightly with the motion, eyes flicking up to gawp at him in alarm. 
But instead of flipping you over his shoulder and breaking your spine (you assume that was the intent), Silco just looks down at you, waiting patiently for you to make your move.
Of course, you have no idea what you’re doing (ever), so you just stand there like a rat in headlights, staring up at him in awe. 
“Grab onto your shirt like I told you, darling,” he instructs softly when you still don’t do anything. 
“It’s okay, you can have it if you want,” you whisper back in a daze. 
“No, grasp the fabric with this hand,” he says, gently guiding your hand to fist the material, right next to where his hand is still holding onto it. “And then grab onto my wrist with your other hand.”
You do and suddenly, you feel like you’re in a sauna. 
Why’s he grabbing your shirt like that? And how in the actual fuck can somebody’s wrist be so goddamn hot?
“Now pull your shirt away from me with your hand and push my wrist away with the other,” Silco continues, seemingly unaware of how flustered you are. 
Oh, so that’s what he’s trying to get you to do. 
You hesitate for a moment, blankly staring at his arm. Only then does Silco notice your reticence, but he must put it down to nerves because the grip on your shirt lessens slightly. 
“It’s alright, my love, just try your best,” he tells you soothingly. 
You smile up at him, utterly dazzled by his… him-ness. 
“Okay.”
You just want to impress him. To make your silly little guy as proud of you as you are of him. 
So you try your best…
Which of course means putting way too much power into it. 
With absolutely zero warning, you shove him away from you at the same time as you rip your shirt from his grasp, the force causing you to stumble and trip yourself up on your feet. Instinctively, you reach out and grab onto Silco’s waistcoat, pulling him down with you. 
He just about manages to catch the back of your head before it smacks against the floor, but  can’t save himself from crashing down on top of you.
Your fingers stay latched onto him as he leans up to check on you, hand still cupping the back of your head protectively. 
“Are you alright?” he asks frantically, rapidly looking over you for any injuries.
Your brain must have short-circuited because in lieu of answering, you simply gaze up at him in shock.
The fall appears to have knocked some of his hair loose, now hanging down over his forehead in strands, and sweet Janna, this should be a crime. 
It’s not fair. How are you supposed to do anything or even think straight with this?
Silco cups your cheek and calls your name, clearly panicked. 
“Can you hear me?”
It’s too much for your poor heart, so give you in and press your lips against his in a passionate kiss.
Silco freezes for a split second before letting out a startled, hmpf!
He moves back, breaking the kiss to hold both of your hands against the floor to stop you from leaning up. 
“Darling, this is serious! You cannot kiss me in the middle of training,” he huffs, exasperated.
You hope the puppy-dog eyes will earn you your forgiveness. 
“But you’re just so cute.”
He sighs, head hanging down low for a brief second before he meets your gaze again.
“Are you injured?”
“No. Are you?”
Silco appears to be relieved, but also a little perplexed. 
“I’m fine, darling. How did you lose your balance so easily?” he asks. “It was supposed to be a simple manoeuvre.”
“I uh… I got distracted,” you say bashfully.
Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind. 
Luckily, he just runs a hand through his hair, trying to put it back in place. He fails spectacularly. 
“You cannot get distracted in a fight, you must be vigilant at all times,” he tells you, like he’s trying to be stern. 
You take no notice. 
“Even if the person I'm fighting is ridiculously hot?”
Silco ignores the question (despite the fact that the tips of his ears are turning the loveliest shade of red) and continues pretending to be strict. 
“Let’s try getting out of this hold,” he says. “What do you think would be the best way to escape from this position?”
You don’t even bother looking for a way to escape, still too focused on giving some love to your mans.
Leaning up as far as you can, you deliver a quick kiss to his nose, which, to your absolute delight, only makes him blush even more. 
He says your name as a scold.
“What did I just say?”
You toss your head to the side and whine, rumbling your legs a little against the floor like a child. 
“Why can’t I just do this if someone attacks me? I feel like it’s kinda working.”
“Do what?” Silco asks with a frown.
“Kiss them.”
And gods, you swear the noise that emanates from his chest is a growl.
“Absolutely not,” he grunts, pressing himself slightly closer to you until you involuntarily squeak.
Silco releases his grip on your hands and climbs off of you, helping you to stand up so he can dust off your trousers. 
Over the course of the next hour, he does actually teach you one or two methods to escape someone’s grasp, but perhaps more usefully, he explains that it’s better to focus on prevention of attacks, rather than relying on moves that you’re probably going to forget when filled with adrenaline.
But just knowing that you’ll have both a slew of bodyguards and a little bit of knowledge in self-defence makes you feel a bit more confident, which was probably the only reason you agreed to learn in the first place.
Of course, the impromptu lesson ends when you trip again and nearly break your nose falling into a table, this time when you’re only trying to get a glass of water. 
Being led carefully back upstairs by Silco, he exhaustedly suggests that training takes place in his office from now on, to which you ask if you can be wrapped up entirely in bubble wrap in what you would call your Safety Suit.
You get no response, which in your books is not strictly a no, so you make a mental note to add an industrial amount of bubble wrap to the next product order you fill out.
Lacing your fingers with his, you give him the biggest, most affectionate smile as you follow him upstairs to the shower, wondering just how in the hell you got so lucky.
-
It’s only a few weeks later that Jinx gets sick, somehow catching a head cold that thankfully isn’t too concerning, just a bit of a temperature that puts her in bed for a few days.
Although, much like her father, she's incredibly demanding. Which of course only multiplies tenfold the second she starts to feel under the weather, insisting either you or Silco be with her all day every day. So the two of you take shifts, juggling paperwork, meetings, and spending time with Jinx, as well as trying to look after yourselves.
It works for a few days, distracting Jinx when she gets bored or frustrated, coercing her to eat and drink, the three of you even spending time together to discuss her new invention ideas while she’s stuck in bed.
Then, it all goes downhill from there. 
You’re on Jinx duty one afternoon, down in the kitchen and in the middle of making her a warm drink when a loud commotion erupts from the bar. Your head pops curiously around the door frame only to be greeted with the sight of utter chaos; a slew of the club’s bouncers and Silco’s usual bodyguards frantically rushing through the club.
For a brief second, you wonder if there’s a security convention happening that you hadn’t been made aware of.
But the moment you spot the Doctor slinking through doors and up the stairs towards Silco’s office, your heart drops in your chest.
He’s supposed to be at a meeting right now with Sevika, across town.
Or will it have finished by now? Would he have had time to walk all the way back to The Drop?
Fuck, what if something happened during the meeting?
Desperately trying to keep the panic at bay, you slip through the crowd and up the stairs, all the while hoping you’ll find your boyfriend in his office as normal, pacing in front of the window like he usually does when there’s been a hitch in the plans. 
But when you reach the doors, you find two more burly guards blocking the entrance. 
You suck in a breath of air and take measured steps down the corridor until you’re standing in front of them. 
“Hey guys, I need to talk to Silco,” you say as calmly as possible, pointing to the door behind them. 
“Sorry, can’t let you in,” one of them says, barely even sparing you a glance.  
You frown. 
“Why? What’s happened?” you ask, trying to hide the wobble in your voice. Then, at the risk of sounding too involved, “Is he okay?”
“There’s been an incident,” the other grunts. 
You hold in the urge to scream and respond as courteously as you can given the situation. 
“Yes, I gathered that, but it’s really important that I talk to him.”
The guards barely look at you, as if you’re just a fly buzzing in front of them. 
“Sorry. Protocol.”
Your fists clench at your sides. 
He’s your partner, for Janna’s sake! 
For all you know, something terrible could’ve happened and these two chumps are treating you like you’re the maid! As a matter of fact, you’re pretty sure you rank higher than these two in the pecking order anyway. 
You put on your meanest face and glare up at them, channelling all your Eye of Zaun energy.
“Look, I don’t give a rat’s arse about protocol, I need to see him right-”
Even just the mention of protocol reminds you of Jinx, who you’d completely forgotten about in all the hubbub. 
Your mouth drops open and you spin on your heel mid-sentence, racing down the corridor to her bedroom. Footsteps land heavily on the floor until you’re bursting through into her room the instant your fingers grasp the handle.
Jinx is completely fine, albeit a little startled at your dramatic entrance, sitting up in bed where you’d left her. You almost collapse in relief. 
“You were gone for ages!” she complains with a huff, until her eyes land on your empty hands and her face screws up, whining, “Hey, where’s my hot choccy milk?”
You rush to her side, gently soothing back the sweaty hair from her forehead with your hand. 
“I’m sorry, pumpkin, I forgot,” you attempt to placate her. “I’ll make one for you in a little bit.”
Her annoyance fades and you just see the worry overtake her expression as she examines you, eerily similar to her father.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. 
“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.”
She isn’t buying it. 
“Yeah there is,” Jinx scowls, even crossing her arms against her chest to show you she really means business. “Don’t lie to me, I’m not a little kid anymore.”
You sigh. What the hell are you meant to tell her? You don’t even know what’s going on.
“There’s just been… a little bit of an incident, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re safe here,” you try to say reassuringly. 
“Where’s Dad?”
“He’s just trying to sort everything out,” you reply. “I’m sure he won’t be long.”
Gods, you hope that’s the case. 
Honestly, you feel awful lying to her, but you have no idea what’s happening yourself. So right now, you both need to stay as calm as possible.
You sit with her for however long, keeping both Jinx and yourself distracted with a game while you internally battle with yourself to stop the worry from overtaking you. 
It’s probably only a few minutes, but it feels like it’s been hours when the door finally opens and Sevika enters, automatically throwing a grimace towards Jinx.
Of course, Jinx isn’t Sevika’s greatest friend on the best of days, but now that she’s sick, it’s entirely worse. She throws the covers over her head and groans in retaliation.
“Boss wants to see you,” Sevika announces, looking directly at you, thankfully ignoring Jinx’s outburst. 
Hope flutters in your chest for a split second. If he wants to see you, that means he’s awake and more than likely talking.
But you can’t really ask the six million questions that are running through your brain with Jinx here listening. And you also can’t really leave her with Sevika, unless you want the entire room to be destroyed. 
“Can you fetch Ran for me?” you ask, begging the woman with your eyes whilst keeping your tone neutral. “I can’t leave Jinx on her own.”
Sevika sneers, clearly annoyed. 
Then, you watch as she considers Jinx (still hiding under the covers), and probably considers being the one to watch over her for the foreseeable. 
Without another word, she promptly turns on her heel and walks out the room.
The whole time you’re waiting for her return, Jinx pesters you to let her see her Dad, but you make her promise that she’ll stay in bed until he gives the okay. 
Luckily, Sevika is back within minutes, Ran in tow, who silently reclines in the furthest chair from her bed. You explain to Jinx that you’ll be back soon, and encourage her to tell Ran about all her new invention ideas.
And the very moment you’ve shut the door to her bedroom, Sevika pauses outside, presumably to update you on the situation.
But your anxiety immediately gets the better of you and you sprint down the hall like a madman, too nervous to even wait a few seconds.
Vaguely, you hear Sevika mutter, “Don’t know why I fucking bother,” as you speed away, but you’ll have to apologise to her later.
You need to see him now. 
When you arrive at Silco’s office, the guards move to the side in preparation, although they do manage to look the tiniest bit alarmed when you burst through the doors yelling, “I just really love paperwork!” and kick the door shut behind you.
Hopefully that’ll quench any suspicions they might have. 
Silco is clearly not in his office, so the next port of call is his bedroom, of which you slam the door open and tumble into the room, hanging onto the door knob for dear life when the motion threatens to send you sprawling across the floor.
From his bed where he’s laid out, Silco’s eyes widen in bewilderment, jolting back against the pillows his head is propped up on. 
Your fingers grip the door handle while your eyes fill with tears, gasping at the sight of him. 
It’s hard not to miss the stained bandage around his thigh, missing waistcoat, and filthy, rumpled clothes. And the fact that he’s much paler than usual. 
You feel sick. 
“Sil…”
“I’m fine, darling,” he attempts to mollify you, shifting about as he tries to sit up.
“No, no, don’t move,” you choke out.
You rush over to him, uncaring of the way your knees crack against the ground when you heavily drop beside his bed. 
“What-” you swallow the knot in your throat, shakily willing the tears away. “What happened?”
A hand reaches out to comfort him, but you hesitate, hovering above his arm.
The last thing you want to do is accidentally hurt him.
Silco grasps your hand with his, firmly intertwining your fingers together. But you beat him to it, bringing his hand to your mouth to gently kiss his knuckles.
“An individual attacked us on our way back to the club,” he explains, two-toned eyes focused on where your mouth rests on the skin of his hand. 
You look up at him, brow furrowed. 
“An individual? Did you see what they looked like?”
“No, they were masked and escaped before Sevika or I could apprehend them,” he replies, voice clearly tired and groggy.
You want to ask why the hell they were alone without any guards, but you know he’ll just get huffy about it. Something about being able to look after himself.
Your hand runs over your face as you sigh.
“Do you think it was one of the gangs?”
That’d be the most obvious set of culprits. 
“It could be, or it could be a lone fanatic who disagrees with my policies,” Silco replies. “We will conduct a thorough investigation and in the meantime security measures will be tripled, you and Jinx included.”
“What did the Doctor say?”
“The usual,” he says, avoiding eye contact as his gaze trails to your clasped hands once more. If there’s one thing that Silco hates, it’s talking about his own health and wellbeing. “The Shimmer injections should speed things along.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before cutting in with a question of his own. 
“How is Jinx?”
“She’s fine, worried about you,” you tell him, squeezing his hand in comfort.
Suddenly, your eyes meet his, filling with tears once more as your mind begins to spiral.
What if-
You cut off that train of thought immediately, letting go of his hand and leaning forward to lightly rest your forehead against his side.
“Oh, Sil,” you mumble shakily into the creased fabric of his shirt. 
“Come here, darling,” he says, gently pushing you to sit back up.
You look up to see him patting the space beside him, the side you usually sleep on.
“But I don’t want to hurt you,” you protest weakly. 
“You won’t,” he says with resolve.
You only hesitate for a moment longer before standing up and making your way around the bed, gingerly climbing onto your side.
Silco quickly reaches for you and pulls you over to him, laying your head against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You’re careful not to lean on him too heavily. 
And gods dammit, as you lie there cocooned in his arms, those tears slowly and silently leak out against your will, soaking into his burgundy shirt.
“I was so worried,” you begin, hoping he can’t detect the wobble in your voice. “I… I thought…”
“Shh, my love,” he hums into your hair. “I’m here now.”
You allow yourself to relax in his presence, beyond thankful that he’s here and he’s alive, even if he’s injured. 
You’ll take care of him every single day until he’s better. And even after that too. For as long as he wants you.
But as much as you want to stay in his arms right now, reassuring yourself with each inhale and exhale of breath that levers your head on his chest, you have to get up. 
“Where are you going?” Silco protests when his arms slip away from you.
“I need to check on Jinx,” you explain, reluctantly climbing off the bed with a sniff. “Plus, it might look a bit suspicious if I spend too long in here. Might start a few rumours.”
Silco frowns when you stand at the foot of the bed and straighten your clothes, scrubbing a hand over your face to wipe away the tears.
“Bring Jinx here, then you can stay as long as you like,” he says, almost with a pout.
You try not to smile at the way he sounds like a little boy trying to get out of bedtime
“She’s still in bed,” you explain. “Plus, she’ll get upset if she sees that you’re hurt. I’ll send Sevika back in to watch over you.”
Silco doesn’t look convinced, so you wander over to his side again.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll come back later,” you say, kissing his forehead tenderly. 
He catches your hand before you can leave, smirking a little. 
“Why can’t you tell everyone you’re my nurse?” he asks, that mischief still lurking despite the exhaustion. “Then you could spend the night here, no questions asked.”
You tug your hand out of his grasp, glaring down at him in faux annoyance. 
“If you weren’t already injured, I would actually smack you right now,” you threaten.
“Sounds lovely,” he grins, reaching for your hand until you dance out of his reach with a yelp.
You begin to walk towards the door. 
“Stay in bed, you menace. And don’t do anything I would do!” you call out over your shoulder as you leave, exiting the room before you do anything stupid (like offering to give him a sponge bath just because you want to take his shirt off). 
And as you go, you pray to Janna that this period of recovery with Silco’s injury is not going to be a trial. The last thing you need right now is any more stress. 
-
The period of recovery is a trial. 
But did you honestly expect anything less with Silco as your patient? 
Luckily, his leg begins to heal fairly quickly, no doubt thanks to the Shimmer injections. But it still takes a bit of time until he can get back to work as normal.
After checking up on Jinx, you find out from Sevika that the Doctor had actually ordered bed rest until he gives the okay. Which is a relief at first because it means that you can bully Silco into properly resting for once in his life.
Except, that means you have to take over the brunt of the meetings and paperwork. 
Between the worry about both Jinx and Silco’s recoveries, and having to carry most of the business, you think you’re losing your mind. 
You continue to take care of Jinx, as well as Silco, who are both the whiniest, most demanding two people you’ve ever met when they’re sick. 
Jinx hates that she can’t visit Silco in case she gives him an infection and bugs you constantly about going to see him. And Silco borderline whines every time you stop him from getting out of bed to ‘just smoke one cigar and fill in one shipping manifest at his desk’. 
Yeah, no. 
More often than not, you’re running between the two of them, perpetually washing your hands and making sure your mask is secure on your face. 
Sometimes you’ll briefly stop on the way to inhale a snack. Sometimes you’ll shove your face under the sink taps and get both a drink and a wash at the same time. Other times you try not to scream into the nearest pillow or cushion in fear of accidentally losing your voice. 
This time, you’ve just finished putting Jinx to bed (a battle far more ferocious than probably any battle in history, ever), and you’re now on your way to check on Silco, ready for his new evening routine. 
Check stitches. Clean wound. Re-bandage. Give medicine. Give food. Check he’s actually taken medicine. Give drink. Find a new book for him to read because he’s bored, darling. 
But instead of finding him laying in bed, plucking his comb like it’s a musical instrument, he’s standing up (barely) and clutching to the dresser.
You watch incredulously as he attempts to tug his trousers over his injured leg, sweating, pale, and clearly out of breath. 
“Are you serious right now?”
He looks up, lips pulling into the tiniest smile at the sight of you. 
“Hello, sweetheart,” he greets warmly, before going back to the task at hand. 
You think your head is going to explode. 
“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly.
The tray of his food and meds are placed on the bedside table, while Silco continues to wrestle with his trousers. Frankly, he looks ridiculous, pyjama top still on, trousers halfway up one leg as the other gets stuck on his ankle over and over again.
“I have a meeting,” he informs you, as if that’s an explanation. 
You look up to the ceiling like you’ll find a piece of your sanity on it. There’s definitely no meetings scheduled in the diary.
Dear gods, if he’s got a fever now and is hallucinating, you think you might just evaporate. 
“What meeting?”
Silco decides not to give you any details and instead just calmly states,
“It is very important. I must attend.”
Then, he carries on trying to get dressed like he wasn’t stabbed in the leg only a week earlier.
You can almost visualise the stress levels rising in your body; the jug about to overflow and spill out of you. 
What you should probably do right now is carefully help him back into bed and fetch Sevika so you can all decide on the best solution to this dilemma.
But you’re human, so you let your emotions get the better of you instead. 
“No.”
Silco has the gall to look surprised.
“I beg your pardon?” he asks, genuinely shocked at your directness. 
“I said no, now get back in bed,” you say, moving over to him to help him take off those stupid trousers and put his pyjamas back on.
He must not understand how serious you are right now because he continues to gently protest.
“Darling, I appreciate-”
“Silco,” you cut him off, tears filling your eyes as you arrive in front of him, looking him dead in the eye. Your voice is shockingly quiet and precise. “I need you to get back in bed or I think I am actually, seriously going to lose it.”
He looks startled, shuffling forward to comfort you. 
“Sweetheart-”
“Please, Silco,” you cut him off, your voice cracking with the words. 
Silco appraises you for a moment, watching your tense body and distraught face. 
Finally, he speaks. 
“Alright,” he concedes quietly, mismatched eyes full of concern. 
He manages to step out of his trousers and you help him hobble back over to the bed, pulling up the covers so he can get under the sheets.
And once he’s comfortably sat up against the headboard, he opens his mouth to speak again, eyes watching you carefully the whole time. 
You don’t let him. 
You lean forward, kiss his cheek, and then step away. 
“Please eat this,” you say, nodding to the tray on his bedside table. “I’m going to check on Jinx and then I will be back to change your bandage.”
Your footsteps out the room are measured and by the time he calls your name, asking you to wait, you’re already out the door. But you can’t stop walking because if you do, you’ll burst into tears…
Which is exactly what happens after you check on Jinx.
You’re just on your way back to Silco’s bedroom when one of the employees stops you in the corridor to say that a warehouse has been raided, meaning a bunch of stock has been stolen. 
You politely thank her for letting you know, ask her to inform Sevika, take a sharp turn into your bedroom, and break down sobbing.
Truthfully, you’re not sure how long you spend kneeling on the floor next to your bed, face down as you cry into the sheets.
But it must be long enough because the door opens and a set of limping footsteps shuffle towards you. 
He sits down on the bed and gently - soothingly - runs his fingers through your hair. 
There’s a sharp intake of breath between each word, but you somehow manage to heave out, “You… should… be… in… bed,” sobbing the last word until it’s completely unintelligible. 
“I know, my love, I know,” Silco consoles you.
He delicately encourages you to get up and get into bed, following you under the covers despite there barely being enough room for the both of you. 
Once he’s reassured you that you’re not hurting his leg, you let him hold you in his arms, rubbing your back until you stop crying. 
You have a killer headache. And a big part of you feels bad for letting him comfort you when it should be the other way round. 
“Do you know why I gave you this bedroom when I first asked you to work and live here?” he eventually mumbles into your hair. 
You sniffle. “No, why?”
“It’s the only one with a single bed.”
Slowly, you pull back to look at him in disbelief. 
“What?”
“I wanted to make sure you didn’t invite anyone over,” he explains nonchalantly, like any sane person would invite you to live with them and give you the tiniest bed ever, just because he was jealous of even the thought of you having a partner. 
You huff a laugh and his lips quirk into a smile in response. 
“There was never anyone to invite over,” you say. “Plus, it doesn’t really make sense to invite someone over when they already live with you.”
Silco watches you affectionately. He cups your cheeks and leans forward to capture your lips in the slowest, most tender kiss. 
Your eyes flutter closed and you whisper against him, “You’re injured.” 
“My lips are perfectly fine,” he mumbles back. 
You gently whack him on the arm. 
“Silly boy.”
He smirks (the one that still gives you butterflies) and steals another kiss before cuddling up to you again. 
“Thank you for looking after everything for me,” he says over your shoulder. “In truth, I am not quite sure what I would do without you.”
“I don’t know how you do it all, I feel like one of those stretchy dolls being pulled in every direction until they snap,” you snort, scrubbing a hand over your face. 
“You’re doing wonderfully, my sweetheart. I am continually astounded by your unwavering strength and compassion,” Silco tells you. 
Then, he blows an amused breath of air out of his nose, like he can’t quite believe whatever he’s thinking. “It’s no wonder I-”
He pauses, whole body suddenly tense in your arms. 
You wait patiently for him to continue, squeezing him a little bit tighter in reassurance. 
“Hmm?”
Silco eventually lets out a shaky exhale, simultaneously relaxing into your touch, almost like he’s melting into your warmth. 
“I know that you will be just fine. We will be just fine,” he says.
You hum again, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep with each looping circle traced on your skin. 
Deep down, you know you’ll have to go fetch him some water and his first aid supplies when you wake. You’ll sit in your armchair beside your own bed until he wakes up from some much needed rest. 
But he’s worth it. He’s worth the crick in your neck, and the reduced hours of sleep, and the overwhelming stress.
He’s worth it all. 
Because you love him. 
-
a/n: did anyone else play the folded paper drawing game or was it just me?? 
edit: i just googled it and the game is called Exquisite Corpse 😭
edit edit: so i’m currently trying to plot out the rest of this story so there’ll hopefully be fewer breaks between chapters (it was only meant to be a one-shot lmao), wish me luck my lieges 🙏 if you’re still reading this daft story after all this time, ily. if you’re new, welcome ily
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thefederationfiles · 5 months
Text
Uh? Hello?
/click/
Cellbit
Uh, hello? I’m not really sure how to start this... suppose I should introduce myself first, I am Cellbit, the new head archivist of the Federation Census Bureau. Still not entirely sure how I landed this position, but I’m not going to refuse it, a promotions a promotion in my eyes.
I was allowed to pick some assistants to help me out, they didn’t really give me a limit on how many I could pick (that they told me about) but I’ve decide to pick three, from various departments within the federation itself. Roier, from exploration, Fit from the clean-up crew and, Etoiles from security, all pretty chill guys, though sometimes ONE of them can get on my nerves…
But I digress.
My predecessor, Bagi, was a very organised woman, and everything, though weirdly done, is actually rather ordered when you think about it for more than five seconds. However, I personally enjoy audio recordings, if find them easier to listen back to if research is needed. For some strange reason however my usual recording equipment wont work, so here we are! With an old tape recorder I found in the desk here.
Anyways, suppose I should start the recording of the actual statement…
On then!
Statement of Phil… no last name given, regarding how he met his wife. Original statement given 23rd of February, 1934. Audio recording by Cellbit, Head archivist of the Federation, Census Bureau, recorded 27th of October 2023, recording begins.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck is HE of ALL people giving a statement, well, consider it a gift! Don’t get so annoyed mate, I only want to repair the relations between us, trust me, just let me tell you my story! It’s a good one.
I first met her when I had supposedly died, I know, very typical of her, but I was just another guy back then! Well, like any self-respecting gentleman, I introduced myself. To say she was confused was an understatement, turns out you’re not meant to be able to speak after death, you’re not even meant to be able to move! Personally, I like to say it was love at first sight, she says, she despised me at first sight. To be fair to her, I was a man who couldn’t die, and her a woman who fed on the dying wishes of men, but plenty of couples have WAY bigger fights when they first meet!
Well, she let me go, I mean she couldn’t really take me, I wasn’t dead. For some reason though, we kept on bumping into each other, always when we were working as well so we could never have a proper conversation. Annoying right? She had to properly prepare the person for consumption, and I always had to get rid of the body! Really hard to flirt when you’re picking up organs that have been thrown against the walls (very messy as well, had to burn that shirt, I liked that shirt…).
To be honest, I always knew that I wasn’t normal, I mean there’s plenty of circumstances I’ve been in where I should’ve died, plenty! I just thought I was a lucky guy, but well, when one survives a hanging, people start to question a bit too much, and well, to put it simply I had to go into hiding! It was rather lonely; I mean don’t get me! It was nice, I made friends with the local crows, they turned into my first murder actually!
Anyways, it was about 25 years or so into this when she visited me, turns out she’d been getting pretty lonely herself! And, well, apparently the other immortal people she knows kept on trying to either fight her or get her to join their own groups, which, just rude! That is not how you get a lady’s attention! So she came to visit since were both so connected with death!
Well, she kept on visiting and eventually I realised everyone who wanted me dead would’ve been dead, so I came out of hiding! That was about 45 years ago, we got married a couple years after and well, you guys know the rest! We started our own group, made a pact with one of the hunts avatars, gotten pretty powerful!
Also I’ve learnt about all the guys and all that, kinda hard not too when you have my job!
Come on now, that’s what you wanted right? A story? A peace offering? Well there you have it! Enjoy, I have a meeting to get too.
/click/
/click/
Well. That was certainly something, I found that statement in the drawers of this desk when I was looking for stationery and thought it a good place to start.
I guess you could say I’m in shock? I mean it really just reassured what I’d already known, I knew stuff existed, I kinda needed too…
Either way, kinda hard to get information on a statement that’s nearly 100 years old, Fit was able to get some information on some serial killings from the 1800’s that he reckons might be related, but I say it’s a bit of a stretch.
/sigh/
Well, better than nothing for the first one! I swear I also heard him talking about an old war buddy…
/click/
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bcofl0ve · 1 year
Text
Invisible String, Part 7
Tumblr media
part 7/9, find the part 6.5 fake ig/phone HERE
ship: austin butler x fem!reader
chapter summary: as elvis gets closer and closer to wrapping, austin puts some more serious thought into what he wants his future with you and cora to look like.
word count: 2,100
author’s note: reminder that covid does not exist in this story so the filming schedule is one of my own making!!! writing moreso from austin's pov for this chapter was super fun, hope yall enjoy <3
summary: a summer fling when you were working on the set of the shannara chronicles turned your life upside down with a positive pregnancy test after austin returned to the united states. a pregnancy test, and a daughter that you never told him about. until the elvis biopic found him back in your orbit and forced you to face the music.
i live for comments and love talking about my writing, feel free to pop me an anon anytime!
xxx
August 7th, 2020
"Can I get your advice on something?”
Austin lingered in the doorway of the tent that had become Baz’s makeshift on-set office, sucking in his bottom lip. He’d been sent home for the day thirty minutes ago. And had gotten all the way to his trailer before he found himself tracing his steps- too wound up about what’d been on his mind all day to leave quite yet.
“Is this Elvis advice or life advice?” Baz said from where he was leaning against his desk, gesturing for Austin to sit down on the couch opposite him. He walked over and plopped down without answering the question, tapping his foot against the floor silently.
“Assuming it’s life advice.”
Baz gave a comforting smile, Austin nodding as he looked at his lap.
“Yeah uh,” He started, wringing his hands together. “Y/N and I have started lookin’ into how we can move her and Cora to the states with me when Elvis wraps. Cor’s easy, we just have to add me to her birth certificate and I can transfer my citizenship.”
“And I was tellin’ Y/N that I’d help her find film work in California to get her work visa, - but then I was thinking then she’d have to keep picking up jobs to extend it, which would be a lot of stress- especially with Cora to think about."
He could see it in Baz’s eyes that he knew where this train of thought was going, practically able to feel the anticipation buzzing off of him.
Falling quiet, nerves about putting a voice to what he’d barley been able to get out to his sister when he saw her a few weeks ago swirled his head.
“So you’re thinking about getting engaged? Baz said and cut through the silence, Austin’s cheeks flushing at how goddamn giddy he sounded. 
Leave it to Baz.
“My sister wouldn’t let me leave California without my uh- our mom’s engagement ring.” He said slowly, voice thick as he replayed that in his head.
He’d only had time to swing by her place for a few hours on his first day in town, but was happy to see her nonetheless. She must’ve spent 30 minutes scrolling through his phone looking at photos of Cora, and you, going on and on about how excited she was to meet you both. And when Austin was leaving for the night she made him wait, disappearing down the hallway and coming back with a familiar box that made him double take.
“Ash,” He sputtered out.
“You can put it away until the time is right,” She supplied, putting the tiny box in his hands and closing them around it. “But I found it out the day after you called and told me you kissed her.”
She was sincere, searching his face and adding a quip about how her older sister intuition was never wrong to get a laugh out of him. And it worked, but it didn’t make the ring box any less weighty- the little thing an aspect or what had led to what happened with Vanessa that he’d only been able to tell his sister.
“I love her so much- I don’t- there's never gonna be anyone else. Just worried it’s too soon I guess.”
Baz leaned up off his desk to come over and sit down next to him, his tone a little more serious when he spoke up again.
“I myself am a believer in the when you know you know philosophy Aust, and just from what I’ve seen- I think you both know.” Baz started and Austin realized he was using what could only be described as a his dad voice, some level of bemused at that. “Now I’m not saying go propose tonight, but I don’t think it’d hurt to float the idea by her- and Cora for that matter.”
Austin nodded, letting Baz drill him a little more about the ring and the hypothetical move before he actually did leave for the night. He drove away from the set and towards your place like he always did on Friday nights.
Given how late it was he was unsuprised to find you asleep in your room when he arrived, the sight that met of him of your head knocked back against the headboard with your still open laptop on your knees making him chuckle under his breath.
Padding across the room to move it off of you, Austin’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the website you'd crashed out while browsing.
K-1 Fiance Visa Timeline, Fees, Requirements
Staring at the screen until he realized it was less than ideal time for this conversation if he accidentally woke you, Austin shut your laptop, setting in on your nightstand.
You did stir awake as he got into bed and curled around your back, your head tilting just enough back to look at him through sleepy eyes.
“Missed you,” You mumbled, Austin kissing the back of your shoulder as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. "’m right here."
You were back asleep within a few minutes, Austin awake for a little while longer in spite of how tired he was
Images danced through his head as he felt no short of fifty emotions at the same time. The way his heart stuttered at what he’d seen on your laptop- the realization that he felt his bones during his conversation with Baz. And the love he felt swelling in his chest just listening to you breathe as you slept in his arms.
---
August 12th, 2020
Austin inhaled as he pulled into the daycare parking lot. He’d picked Cora up from here a few times before, impressed with how good both the staff and other families had been about their privacy. So he wasn’t nervous about that, no.
Admittedly, and embarrassingly, he was about near shaking with nerves over talking to a four year old about marrying her mom. 
He signed in through the front office and headed down to Cora’s classroom, unsurprised to see her bouncing on her heels by the open door, exclaiming “Daddy you‘re here!” excitedly the second she saw him.
Their little daddy-daughter date had only been on the calendar as of three days agos, but according to you she had been verifying it was still happening no short of five times per hour since.
“Promised I would be baby girl,” He replied as he swept her up, kissing her on the cheek. She giggled as he set her back on the ground and took her hand, swinging his arm as they went back out to the parking lot.
“Music please,” Cora said from her car seat as Austin put the car in drive.
“Whatcha listen to Cora Jean?”
Austin glanced back at her in the rearview mirror, chuckling at the way she tapped a finger on her chin in concentration- jutting it out towards him when she made her decision.
“Wanna listen to you!”
“Me?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. “What song you thinkin’?”
After another moment of what appeared to be deep concentration over such a decision she landed on what she’d affectionately coined The Mama Song, adding on another five ‘please’s to the end of the request.
Pulling up That’s All Right as a backing track, he put the car in drive as he sang, glancing back at Cora in her car seat. He smiled when he saw Cora swaying her head back and forth, singing the words along with him.
She’d become quite the little Elvis fan as she became more aware of what exactly daddy was doing at work all day. And just when he thought she couldn’t get any cuter he came by your place one night to her eagerly waiting to show him the Hounddog dance she’d been practicing after watching him do it on set.
It had hit him recently that he really had Elvis to thank for how things had worked out the past few months. For being a dad, for falling back into lockstep with you- all of it really. In a way, listening to his daughter sing his music as felt like a gratitude hymn.
Cora let out an excited squeal when they pulled up to the diner, fidgeting around to unbuckle herself the second the car was in park. It was out of the way enough that they’d be left alone, and their milkshakes were to die for. But always on the cautious side he still directed her towards a booth in the very back.
They ordered and Austin snapped a quick photo of her with the glass almost the size of her head to send to you before he set his phone down. Shaking his leg against the floor, it crossed his mind that someday he’d laugh about how nervous he was over this with you. Someday.
“So you know how mama was telling you about how you guys are gonna come live in America where I live someday?” He started, Cora grinning through the milkshake straw in her mouth, remnants of her last sip dripping down her face as she pulled back and started talking before she was done drinking.
“Mhm, she said she hadta talk to the em-assy and that they take a long time.”
“The embassy does take a long time,” Austin replied with a nod, grabbing a napkin and leaning forward to wipe her chin off before she went in for another sip. “And do you know the difference between a secret and a surprise Cora?”
That whole concept was something he discovered the night before after a litany of Google searches about getting kids to play along with surprises. And laying awake as he scrolled, he wished he could just ask you about it, sure you’d be better at this than he would be after reading three articles linked to Pinterest. 
But that wasn’t exactly possible given what the surprise was.
“No keepin’ secrets with grown ups.” Cora replied matter-o-factly.
“Right, but a surprise is different because it doesn’t stay a secret forever- and it’s a happy thing.”
Cora nodded along, swirling her straw around her drink and looking at Austin expectedly. She was his clone, there was no doubt in that. But she had your facial expressions down pat- eyebrows knitting together just like yours did when you knew something was up.
“So I’m gonna tell you something and you gotta help me keep it a surprise, okay?” He said, taking a ship of his own milkshake like the sugary liquid would fortify him. “I was thinking about asking your mama to marry me.”
He was grateful at least that he didn’t have to attempt a dictionary explainer of what that meant, the little girl well aware as far as he knew between how Disney princess obsessed she was. Alongside the incident a few weeks prior where she’d come from daycare and relayed over dinner that she’d gotten married to a little boy in her class.
Cora’s eyes widened the second the word left his mouth.
“You are?!" She exclaimed, shifting to sit up on her knees in all the excitement.
“Mhm, but I know that’s a lot of big changes and it’s okay if it makes you a little scared, or worried.” Austin tried, though he realized he was probably closer to those emotions than she was. The four year old looked positively giddy, leaning over the table and talking in what was a failed attempt at a whisper.
“I wan’ you to get married like Ariel an’ Prince Eric on the boat.” She said seriously, hands folded.
And he couldn’t help but grin as he replied with a soft “We’ll see about that sweetie,” adding that he still had to ask you after all. 
Cora down, one more person to go.
-
Unless of course she popped the question before he could.
Austin tried his best to emphasize the surprise part on the car ride home, and that he didn’t even know when or how he was going to ask you.
Something Cora seemed to forget at bedtime, rolling over onto her stomach and propping her head on her hands as he tried to get her tucked in. 
“Daddy is it tonight?” She asked, and Austin laughed, a response on the tip of his tongue until he heard your voice from the doorway and realized you’d returned from talking to your mom on the phone. And had definitely heard that.
“Is what tonight?” You said with a curious smile, leaning against the door frame.
“We can’t tell you mommy, it’s a surprise.” 
Austin ducked his head down and suppressed a laugh as Cora responded so bluntly, biting his tongue as he got through the rest of his goodnites and left you to say yours. 
He stripped down to his boxers and flopped onto your bed to wait for you, staring at the ceiling with his hands folded behind his head, finding himself laughing again at how ridiculous expecting Cora to keep quiet about this had probably been. 
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize you’d come into the room until he felt the mattress dip. You slid down next to him and went straight for a kiss, Austin meeting you halfway.
You scraped your teeth against his bottom lip, pulling back just enough to talk.
“So what’s this I hear about a surprise?”
“Mm, no spoilers.” He whispered, bringing a hand to cup your face. Slipping his thumb down to slide across your bottom lip, he stopped abruptly at the next three words to leave your mouth.
“I’d say yes.”
“What?”
He looked into your eyes cautiously, and knew then exactly what you were implying but it somehow didn’t feel real still. 
“If you had something to ask me, something important.” You stated, bringing a hand to his hair and carding your fingers through it gently. “I’d say yes.”
There was an air of nervousness in your voice and it made him want to ask you right then, confirm that you were on the same page and had nothing to be nervous about because he’d marry you tomorrow if he could. 
But he settled for a quiet “Mhm,” pulling his hand back to lay it over where yours had fallen against his collarbone, intertwining your fingers.
“Noted baby,” He said and you let out a short breath of relief that he felt against his skin.
xxx
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lonesome-witching · 11 months
Text
Strong Grasp of Social Cues
I'd like to thank the anonymous person that send this prompt. Gonna be honest I slightly struggled with this one so I really hope you like it. If you don't feel free to let me know and either just complain about it or give me a second chance. I understand either way. The prompt was Robin being oblivious to Nancy flirting with her.
As always you can send me any and all ronance prompts here.
I don’t have a filter or a strong grasp of social cues. 
That’s what Robin had said. It had been an explanation, or maybe an excuse, at the time. She had been trying to ease the tension. When she had said it Nancy had been annoyed. And scared. And she had barely known Robin. 
Now she thought back to that moment with a new clarity. Because that must be why Robin hadn’t responded as Nancy had so hoped these past two months. The only other option was that Nancy had been reading it all wrong, that Robin just really wasn’t into her, and that couldn’t be possible. At least Nancy was hoping it wasn’t possible.She wasn’t sure what she’d do if it was possible. So, she chose not to think that way.  
The bell above the Family Video entrance rang through the store. The empty store. Entirely empty. Nancy frowned at the front desk where Robin was supposed to be. She knew Robin always worked on thursdays. Even if she didn't, there ought to be someone present to help with picking out movies and to make sure no one was stealing anything.  
She tapped her fingers against the surface, waiting, thinking, contemplating what her next move should be. When Robin would eventually come out Nancy had to be prepared. 
“Just a second.” A voice sounded from the back of the store. Not just a voice. Robin’s raspy voice. It didn’t take long for the girl to rush into view. “Nance? Hi.” 
“Hey.” Nancy responded, slightly thrown off by Robin’s bright smile. There was no way that Robin wasn’t into her. She had to be into her. Please let Robin be into her.
“Renting or returning?” Robin asked, having positioned herself at the other side of the counter. Too far away.
“Neither. I just wanted to see you.” She slipped into that sultry tone she had perfected before the world collapsed. 
“Honestly, I’m a little relieved. Steve has the day off and I’ve gotten no more than 2 customers today. 2, Nance. It’s not like I particularly enjoy amusing the whims and demands of the people in Hawkins but it definitely beats sitting around and doing nothing for 4 hours. 4 hours, Nance.” It was easy to get lost in Robin’s rambles and usually Nancy would allow herself to. But not today. Today she had a mission. 
“I hope I can make your day better.” She batted her eyelashes and felt ridiculous. But it had always worked on Jonathan. 
“You always do.” Wait, was she flirting? Was it finally working? “I love having my friends around.” Okay, maybe not. 
“You know what I was thinking?” Nancy continued, not giving up. 
“It would be very weird if I did.” 
“I was thinking, we should go out tonight.” That was quite direct. For the first time she saw confusion wash over Robin. Just for a moment before her smile returned and she nodded. 
“Sounds fun. What were you thinking? Movie? Milkshakes? I’ll ask Steve if he wants to join.” 
“I don’t want Steve there.” Nancy said quickly, slightly panicking. 
“Why not?” Robin frowned. 
“You know what, forget it. I guess I was wrong after all.” 
“Wrong? Wrong about what?” Robin was shaking her head as if she was trying to convey that Nancy could never be wrong about anything. 
“About you wanting to go out with me.” 
“I’d love to go out with you. I just said that.” 
“You want to go out with Steve.” 
“Why is it such a problem if he joins? I thought you guys were friends now.” 
“We are friends, it’s just that…” Nancy pinched the bridge of her nose. “It would kind of be uncomfortable to flirt with my ex’s best friend while my ex is sitting next to me.” 
“Flirting?” Robin whispered to herself. “Wait, are you-?” 
“Flirting with you? Have been for 2 months.” Nancy admitted. 
“So when you asked me to go out you meant…” 
“As a date.” 
“And when you said I looked good in a tie you weren’t just being friendly?” 
Nancy frowned, searching through her memory. “Oh my God, Robin. I didn’t say you looked good in a tie. I said you looked sexy in a tie. You thought that was a friendly compliment?” 
“Kind of. Best friends compliment each other.” Robin defended herself.
“How often has Steve called you sexy?” 
Robin shuddered before shaking her head. “Okay I see it now. Sexy is not exactly friendly. In my defense I don’t have a strong grasp of social cues.” 
Nancy beamed at the girl in front of her. “I remember. So, is that a yes?” 
“A yes?” 
“For tonight? Movie and milkshakes and hopefully a kiss goodnight if everything goes well.” Nancy leaned over the counter. 
“Oh!” Robin’s eyes widened as a soft blush covered her cheeks. “Yes! Yes. Definitely yes.”
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unecoccinellenoire · 5 months
Note
33+50, gabenath? I love these fics so much, whenever I see one no matter what it's about I get excited to read it because of how much I love your writing. Keep up the great work <3
"Alright sir," Nathalie pushes her chair away from her desk, reaching for her phone, "That's-"
“You done for the day.” He keeps his eyes firmly on his screen. He won’t betray his weakness to her. “I’m aware. You don’t have to keep announcing how delighted you are to be away from me.”
“I was just being polite sir. Letting you know I wouldn’t be around for anything else you needed.”
He can’t help looking up as he scoffs. “Oh come off it Nathalie. You haven’t ‘just been polite’ to me ever since you decided you hated me.”
Her hand frozen above her phone since his interruption moves back to her side and she straightens up. “I wouldn’t describe it as decided to. Personally if we were going to use the word decided then I’d call it the time when you decided to disappoint me more than I ever thought you’d were able to do.”
Anger surges up his throat like acid, and were it any softer his grip on his stylus would break it. “You don’t have to stay you know.”
“You know why I stay,” her voice is quiet but firm and this time she picks up her phone and puts it in her pocket as if she plans to leave.
“Because you don’t trust me with my son. Or to understand that I failed. That I lost. That the only reason I’m not infamous right now is because some teenage girl thinks she loves my son. And that I’m stupid enough to try again.”
“That’s not the only stupid thing I worry about you doing?”
“What does that mean?”
“Maybe you should think about it,” she pushes her chair in with a final movement and turns and-
“Nathalie,” he doesn’t know when he reached out for her but there his hand is extended in front of him, the stylus on the floor.
She’s stopped, frowning, she almost looks worried though he won’t delude himself it’s for him.
“We need talk,” he says.
She inhales, then, “alright.”
“I’m not going to do anything stupid.” He pauses, but she doesn’t take the obvious bait and somewhat gratified he continues, “and you know Adrien will tell Ladybug if I do anything to him.”
“I don’t actually.”
Her tone is light, but he can hear the strain hiding behind. He’s not good at recognising emotions. Not without his Miraculous. Maybe not even with his Miraculous. But Emilie had used to do thatback when she was getting sicker and sicker. She’d done it enough times to burn that fake unconcern into his eardrums, and so he can recognise it now.
“Oh for-“
“I’m not blaming you actually. Or- I guess I am, but I’m to blame too and Emilie. Adrien,” she sighs, “Adrien doesn’t really know how things should be. Or when something goes past the awkwardness that would be expected in these circumstances to-“
“Adrien wants to move out.”
Her eyes widen, just a little, for a moment. “Adrien’s 15.”
“I’m aware,” he grits out, “but as he points out I was willing to send him to London. And on a world tour.”
“I was supposed to be with him on that.”
“If I don’t let him go he’ll run.”
Nathalie presses her lips together. “Where’s he want to go?”
“Where do you think,” he scoffs, “his lady’s.”
“That seems…unwise. I thought they were still on the outs.”
“Apparently they’ve made up,” then it hits him, “he hasn’t said any of this to you?”
Odd that. For Adrien to tell him and not Nathalie.
“I know my and Adrien’s relationship must seem undamaged to you,” Nathalie says, “but that’s because we had months to make up while you were, er-“
“Dead?”
Her nods tightly. “So. I was still Mayura. I countermanded you but I didn’t give him the rings. I don’t know that he truly trusts me yet. But then, I might be overthinking it.”
“How so?”
“Adrien doesn’t like disappointing people. He might not have told me because he knows I’d disapprove. And because he doesn’t want the argument. Easier to get you to present it as a fait accompli, and after all you are his father. If you’ve signed off on it then…”
Gabriel marvels, “I never thought Adrien was that sly.”
“He was Chat Noir beneath our noses all that time.” Her shoulder shifts in what could almost be a shrug, “and like I said, a lot of it is him being non-confrontational I think.”
“Chat Noir is plenty confrontational.”
“He’s finds it easier behind a mask. He’s like you that way.”
Something in her presumption making that comparison like she knows him grates at him, makes him want to get under her skin too, to prove she doesn’t know him as well as she thinks.
“I don’t think I was that different as Gabriel or Monarch near the end.”
“No.” And her lips purse again, “You weren’t.”
He draws his hands behind his back, reminded as he is every time he does it of his bare ring finger, “the thing is Nathalie, with Adrien leaving there’s no need for you to stay. You can go.”
She cocks her head, “are you threatening to fire me?”
“Threatening you? I’m giving you an out. I know you hate me. I know you want nothing more than never see me again. That- to you that mistake I made for unforgivable. And I’m telling you that you can go. That I’m not going to do anything stupid. I know I’m beaten, and soon Adrien is going to be out of my reach. You can leave Nathalie. Go back to your old profession and-“
“Stop!”
“What?”
Her shoulders rise and fall and then she strides over to him, “Gabriel Agreste, do you think I can just go back to my old work? When I’ve been your personal assistant for years and years and what I did was illegal before that, and-“
“Alright,” it’s his turn to interrupt her because he is so so tired of hearing this, “I ruined your life just like I ruined Emilie’s and I’ve ruined Adrien’s. I get it. I’m a terrible person. I’m so unlovable my son wishes I wasn’t his father, my one time best friend only stays because she feels she has to guard me as atonement or something, and my wife would hate me if she could see me. I get it. And I don’t need you here reinforcing that every day and making us both miserable when- mumph!”
Her hand on his mouth abruptly stops his speech.
Despite the fact they’re still her human aquamarine it feels like he’s looking into Mayura’s eyes not Nathalie’s. There’s an intensity to them that freezes him like a gorgon making it impossible to fight back.
Not that Nathalie probably wouldn’t win anyway despite his greater reach. He knows she still trains, relishing that she’s healthy enough to do so again.
“Gabriel Agreste.” She hisses out his name, “you are an idiot.”
He’s about to lick her hand in retaliation for that when-
“How dare you care yourself unloveable to my face when I’ve loved you for years?!”
His lips part in shock against her hand and she pulls it away again looking ready for a fight despite her confession.
“But you hate me?”
Nathalie looks frankly unimpressed. He can’t blame her, he hadn’t meant to say something that sounded that unintelligent.
“Love can’t just be extinguished in one moment. Not that you didn’t give it a good try afterwards, but then,” he sees the movement of her throat as she swallows and, “you died. And you know it wouldn’t have hurt so much when you failed me if I hadn’t loved you so much in the first place. But you know that much. I suppose that now you don’t have your Miraculous-”
“I didn’t actually.”
“What?”
“Know.”
“But- your Miraculous.”
“I didn’t realise it was love,” he pinches at the bridge of his nose, “we know that Miraculous didn’t suit me. Or maybe I was deluding myself. But- you still…”
She nods tightly.
“Ah.”
“Quite.” Nathalie says, “So maybe you’re right. Maybe I should go.”
“I-“ can’t let you leave now you’ve just said that, but he can’t say he loves her back either- not yet anyway,“if you think that’s best.”
“What I think best is for Adrien not to move in with the family of the teenage girlfriend he still wasn’t worked out all his issues we. So. Yes, I’ll move out. But I’m taking him with me.”
That’s- “that’s a much better plan. Yes, find somewhere suitable for the two of you and I’ll pay.”
“You don’t-“
“He’s my son.”
“Alright.” She relaxes, “I’m not sure about the job. I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone.”
“I told you. I won’t do anything stupid.”
“And will you talk to anyone about anything that isn’t work?”
He can feel his shoulders slump. “I suppose you have me there. But then we haven’t spoken about anything but work or Adrien since I came back either.”
“No. We haven’t. I guess I have been punishing you.”
“It worked.”
“It’s doesn’t feel as satisfying as I expected.”
“You know,” he muses, “there’d have to be a transition, you couldn’t just leave your job immediately.”
“That’s true.”
“That’s time for me to do better. If you can think of anyone who’d want to be around me.”
“Harry’s always been pretty forgiving of your moods.”
“That’s true. And perhaps there’s someone else who might like to spend some time with me socially. Once she’s no longer working for and living with me.”
For once the amusement “Me?”
“You don’t have to. But perhaps we could go out for dinner? Visit a museum and you can explain everything to me?”
Her lips curve up, “that sounds like a date.”
“It was meant to.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am. ”
“Then- yes.
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mackenzielovee · 1 year
Text
unpolished (4) — andy barber
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summary: Andy gives you everything you want just to keep you.
warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce
wc: 3k
a/n: hi!!!! i really love this chapter and i hope you guys do too , leave me some love if you can! xoxo
     “So, he just walked out?”
You nod, watching Ana reach for another slice of pizza between the two of you. She’d already eaten two pieces, while you’d only been able to stomach about half of your own before reciting everything that had happened with Andy. 
“God, he’s gonna know we were bluffing,” you grumble, “Maybe I can quit over email so I never have to face him again.”
“What are you talking about?” she questions, her mouth half-full of pizza. 
“I’m talking about Neal, Ana,” you sigh, “Andy was definitely on his way over to Neal’s office, and when he finds out that there’s no assistant job open—”
“There is,” she informs you with furrowed brows, as if your misunderstanding is astounding to her, “Neal’s office even has your resume.”
You roll your eyes, “How would Neal’s office have my—”
“I send a copy over,” she shrugs, taking another bite of her pizza before pointing down to your plate, “You gonna finish that?”
Your jaw falls open, “You sent my resume to Neal Logiudice?”
“Yes,” she groans, “Look, I know you were just messing with Andy, but you seriously need to work in an office where you’re appreciated and valued. Two things Andrew Barber does not know how to do when it comes to you.”
Stunned, you let your jaw hang open as you stare at her. She merely shrugs, no longer waiting for permission to take the crust off your plate. She takes a bite of it and nods her head in approval, then takes a long sip of her drink.
“You—” you start, then exhale and try again, “Ana, how could you think that’s okay?”
She shrugs again, clearly unbothered, “I didn’t think you’d mind. Especially with how much you’ve been complaining about Andy.”
For a moment, you want to argue. For a moment, you want to try to explain why she shouldn’t have done that. Instead, you take a long, deep breath, then grab onto your purse and give her a forced smile. 
“I should get back to the office,” you mumble, already moving to stand. 
Ana freezes as your chair squeaks against the tile floor, and with a mouthful of pizza crust, she widens her eyes. 
“Y/N, come on,” she groans, “Just a minute ago you were going to quit over email, now you’re running off to him?”
“It wasn’t supposed to get this far—” you say, stopping yourself and drawing back when Ana’s brows furrow. 
“How far was it supposed to go, then?” she questions. 
You stare at Ana and she stares back, brow hiked up on her forehead as if she’s daring you to answer the question. Too afraid to venture a guess, you sigh and take a step back.
“I’ll call you later,” you grumble, turning your back to the table and walking away.
“You better!” she calls back, right before she picks up another slice of pizza. 
     The walk back to the office is short, even if it doesn’t feel that way. Your heart races as you imagine what’s ahead; how Andy will react and if he’ll even be there. You wonder if he’ll just fire you on the spot — he’d tell you to pack up and go work for Neal and never tell anyone to call him as a reference. 
Briefly, you wonder what made Andy go to Neal’s in the first place. Yes, you’re sure he’s reading your emails. But every part of you is unsure of why he would feel the need to go down there. Maybe, you think, he’s begging Neal to take you. That thought alone is enough to deepen your frown.
By the time the elevator doors slide open, you’re sure everyone around you can hear your heart pounding. You’re convinced you’ll be jobless by the end of the day and homeless by the end of the month. Bravely, you puff out your cheeks and round the corner anyway, telling yourself to take it like a champ. 
What you don’t expect to find is Andrew Barber sitting at your desk with his tie tugged loose and his head buried in his laptop screen. His fingers type furiously, and only when you step forward does he look up and notice you. 
Immediately, he stands, his eyes scanning over every inch of you before he swallows and speaks. 
“Hi.”
You can tell by his eyes that he wants to say more, but he’s holding back. You purse your lips and squirm where you stand while Andy clears his throat loudly.
“Hi,” you reply.
“How was your lunch?” he asks, still watching every move you make. 
Your brows furrow, and with the impatience and the desperation to get everything out in the open, you shake your head. 
“Listen, Andy—”
“How much do you want?”
The question makes you freeze. His eyebrows form a line as a sort of serious scowl spreads across his face. After a few seconds, you draw back, listening to your heel tap against the floor.
“What?”
He takes a step forward, placing his hands on his hips, “To stay. How much do you want to stay here and work for me? Give me a number.”
Your jaw drops. His eyes never leave yours, and soon, you’re staring up at him through your lashes as he takes several more steps to close the space between the two of you.
“Andy—” you start, but he shakes his head. 
“A number, Y/N,” he repeats, softer this time, “Any number.”
You scoff before you can help it, “Any number?”
“Any number,” he confirms.
He watches you roll your eyes, and when you focus on him again, you swear you see a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“So, if I asked you for a twenty percent raise—”
“Done.”
Your eyes widen, “Andy, that’s—”
“I know how much it is,” he stops you, his voice matter-of-fact, “Will twenty percent satisfy you? Keep you here?”
Your instinct is to hug him. To gush and smile and tell him just how much twenty percent will impact your life. Before you say anything, you remember what you’d told Ana before. Licking your lips, you set your bag down on your desk and look up at him. 
“There’s one other thing,” you say quietly, the words coming out shyer than anticipated. 
“Tell me,” he demands. 
You smile when the phone starts to ring on your desk. Andy doesn’t flinch, but he watches as you glance at it. 
“Stop reading my emails,” you fire at him. 
Just as his eyes widen and his body stills, you move around him and reach for the phone. He’s still busy when you pick it up. 
“Andy Barber’s office, how may I help you?”
His back is still to you, and you’re busy studying it before you realize the client on the other end of the phone is speaking to you. With a shake of the head, you turn your focus to the call and smile as you figure out just what they need. 
“Yes sir, just one moment and I’ll transfer you to Mr. Barber.”
You see Andy’s back muscles tense, and slowly, he spins around. You lean over your desk and place the call on hold, then look up at him. 
His eyes follow you as you move around your desk, close his laptop, and hold it out for him to take. You’re used to Andy’s silence, but this time, you feel as if you’re the one in control. Wordlessly, he accepts his laptop and clenches his jaw, eyeing the blinking light on the phone as if it’s slowly killing him. 
“Line two,” you say, your voice cocky. 
Andy’s jaw hardens even more. He swallows roughly, takes one more look over you, then turns and walks into his office without another word. You bite down on your bottom lip to hide a smile and suck in a deep breath — the first one you’ve ever taken in this office, it feels like. Suddenly, nothing seems intimidating anymore. 
You’ve got Andy Barber wrapped around your finger. It seems you always have. That’s what brings the smile to your face as you sit down in your chair, ready to work hard for that extra twenty percent. 
     Andy only sees two more clients before the end of the day, but he remains in his office in between them. He doesn’t even use the restroom. The only time you see him is when you bring clients into his office and offer up coffee, which Andy denies both times. You see the way his eyes linger on you for just a moment too long, and you’re sure it’s because he’s debating his investment; trying to figure out if you’re really worth twenty percent more just to get coffee and sit outside his office playing Candy Crush when he’s in meetings. Yet, no part of you seems to care. He caved quickly on the raise, and you’ll take every bit of it. 
     You stay ten minutes past five o’clock for no reason. That ten minutes consists of reorganizing the sticky notes on your calendar and sorting your colored pens into a rainbow. Selfishly, you want Andy to come out of his office. You want him to explain the emails; to apologize. 
To see Andy Barber apologize would be a sight. 
With a huff, you stand from your chair and collect your things. You can’t help but stare at Andy’s closed door and wonder if he ever stops working. Briefly, you consider knocking and asking if he needs anything before you go. Then, you fear he’ll ask why you’re here past five. Shaking your head, you place your bag over your shoulder and grab your jacket, then let your heels tap against the floor as you walk out. 
The building is pretty much empty, save a few lawyers working in conference rooms or making copies to prepare for their days tomorrow. You take a breath as you hit the button for the elevator, surprised when the doors open immediately. You step inside and hit the button for the ground floor, watching the doors pull shut. Just before they meet, an arm stops them. They open again, and your eyes widen at the sight of Andy Barber, ready to leave the office at a decent hour. 
His lips tip up as he takes you in, doing a once-over before he steps silently into the elevator. You scoot over out of instinct and look down at the floor — all sense of power from earlier seems to have disappeared because of this ambush. You notice how his tie has been removed completely and his suit jacket is hung over his arm, leaving him only in a blue button-down that works wonders for his eyes. 
The doors close and the silence is deafening; to the point where you wonder if there’s never been any music on this elevator. 
All at once, Andy clears his throat and speaks, staring straight ahead as he does. 
“I wasn’t reading your emails to violate your privacy,” he says, his voice even.
You hate that he doesn’t elaborate or explain, but instead, waits for a response from you. 
“Why, then?”
He takes a breath, “My old assistant was sending out personal information about me and lost me a bunch of clients. Before I hired you, I installed a screening program. You work for me. Any email you send that includes my name shows up on my computer. It’s purely precautionary.”
Spinning on your heel, you turn and face him, narrowing your eyes. He glances over and sees your expression, and you swear he suppresses a smile at the sight. 
“So, you’ve seen everything I’ve said about you?” you question, trying to figure out exactly what that might be.
He nods, swallowing roughly, “I never meant to make you cry, Y/N.”
You feel your stomach drop at the thought of Andy knowing you cried over how mean he was to you. 
“That’s how you knew so much about my date,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him.
“Yes,” he confirms. 
The doors to the elevator open, and Andy gestures for you to exit first. You do, letting your heels click as your brain runs wild. He follows you out and through the lobby, then out the front doors that will lead to both of your cars. 
“What happened to your old assistant?” you ask him, watching his blue eyes meet yours. 
His brows furrow, “What do you mean?”
You shrug and look out onto the road, noting all of the traffic of people trying to get home. You wonder what it would be like to have someone waiting on you.
“Did you ever, like, take her to court for what she did?”
He smirks, “You could say that.”
“What does that mean?” you question, staring up at him. 
With a shrug, Andy answers you while also eyeing the same traffic you’d been looking at just a moment before. 
“I divorced her,” he replies, then gives you a tight smile, “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”
He leaves you standing in shock on the sidewalk, jaw hanging slack and heels cemented into the sidewalk. 
     With this new information that Andy’s provided you, no part of you wants to go home and find an empty living room, empty kitchen, empty bed. So, sighing in defeat, you start down the path to one of the many bars that line the downtown area. 
You find one that’s not too crowded and wander in, all while your head spins with this new information from Andy. You had absolutely no idea that his wife used to be his assistant, and part of you wonders how that ever even worked. 
You find a seat and order a drink without thinking twice, desperate for it to take your mind off of the way he looked standing beside you in the elevator. You recall his little smile, his remarks, and his gentlemanly actions even when he doesn’t seem to care much for you. 
Maybe he does, you think, but before you can examine that too much, the bartender sets your drink down in front of you. Picking it up, you swallow about half of it in a few seconds, hoping it will melt some of these thoughts away. 
“Barber’s got you drinking on a Tuesday?”
You perk at the sound of Andy’s last name and turn, finding none other than Neal Loguidice standing behind you with a drink in his hand. Your heart sinks but you give him a tight smile anyway, then nod. 
“Yeah, long day,” you reply, attempting to turn around again when he steps beside you. 
“Same here,” he answers, “Your boss came in and gave me an earful this afternoon. Do you know why?”
You bite your tongue to keep from blurting out the first thing that comes to mind, and instead, you finish off the remainder of your glass. 
“No,” you lie. 
Neal laughs and slides into the chair beside you, “He thought I was going to hire you. Which, given your resume, I’m greatly considering.”
You swallow and turn to face him, watching the way his lips twist up into a smile at the thought of you being interested in his proposal.
“It was actually a miscommunication,” you inform him, “Everything is fine and I am staying where I am. Andy’s a great boss.”
You know you’re pushing the envelope, but some part of you feels protective. Neal raises your defense, at least enough that you don’t want him to know any of the hardships you’ve faced with Andy. 
“Really?” Neal chuckles, “You look exhausted every time I see you. I figured you had enough.”
“No, I’m fine,” you reply politely, then signal for the bartender to get you your check. No part of you wants to entertain him for another minute. 
“Put it on mine,” Neal tells the bartender, “And, we’ll have another round.”
“No, we won’t,” you speak up, standing, “I really should get home.”
“Already?”
You ignore him at first and place your purse on your shoulder, then turn around. Your smile is more forced, less genuine, but Neal doesn’t seem to notice. 
“Yes. Andy’s in court tomorrow and there’s a lot I need to prepare for him,” you reply, “Thank you for the drink. Have a good night.”
You hear Neal scoff, but you don’t look back to hear any of his comments. Instead, you walk right out the door, right to your car, and you head home. To the empty living room, empty kitchen, empty bed. 
You pour yourself a glass of wine and use a roll of pre-made cookie dough to make cookies, then sit on the couch while you work on Andy’s notes for tomorrow. Every ounce of energy goes to not noticing how lonely and quiet your apartment seems to feel lately, and once the bottle of wine is gone and the cookies are only crumbs, do you crawl into bed. 
As you lay under the cold sheets, wide awake, you let your mind drift off, wondering if Andy Barber is doing the same thing in his home. You wonder if he gets lonely. 
Just before you fall asleep, you wonder if Andy Barber thinks about what you’re doing at that very moment. Your arm flinches as you want to reach for your phone, but instead, you turn around and put your back to your nightstand. 
It’s just loneliness, you think. Like all else, it will pass. 
And just before you fall asleep, convincing yourself that it’s not Andy you miss, but the company of another person, you realize that you’ll be lonelier than ever tomorrow with Andy in court for the majority of the day. 
With that in mind, the possibility of having feelings for Andrew Barber doesn’t seem so far off. In fact, to you, it seems completely plausible.
Tags:
@goldenjo @onmykneesforrafe @r0und3bitch @bellsnuit @infatuatedjanes @swthxrry @royalwritersoftheuniverse
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albertasunrise · 2 years
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Never Safe - One Shot
Masterlist
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Summary: When Connie and Steve organise a day out with you and Javier to hopefully repair the fractured relationship you two have, things don’t go as planned.
Relationship: Javier Peña x Reader, Steve Murphy x Connie Murphy
Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to list any warnings.
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When Steve had suggested that you all spend your very rare day off together at Lake Guatavit, you’d initially been sceptical. Now you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to visit the place, you’d made a bucket list of things to do in Colombia when you’d learned you were going to be stationed there.
No the reason you’d been sceptical was because of Javier Peña.
The Bogota Batchelor.
The most desired man in the Embassy.
And you had bagged him on your second day.
You had expected him to brush you off after that. After all, it had been two people scratching an itch. At least that's what it had been for you. But then he went and developed feelings for you and any chance of a working relationship fell to pieces.
Fast forward to today, five months on and things were strained. He had resorted to the cold shoulder after your numerous rejections, his ego too bruised to be ‘just friends’ with you and you tolerated it. You were there to do a job after all. Yet you’d also be lying if you said that you didn’t have any feelings at all for the man. You just had no intention of acting on them.
The drive to Lake Guatavita was gruelling. Steve and Connie desperately trying to find anything to talk about but after the first hour, you decided sleeping was the best course of action.
Steve and Javi then started to talk quietly to each other in the front and when the subject of your relationship cropped up, you couldn’t help but listen in.
“When are you and Espina going to sort your shit out?” Steve asked and Javier sighed “I know you fucked her, is that why you two hate each other? You pump and dump her?”
“Was the other way around.” Javier confessed lowly, his head rolling to look at the passing trees through the window “She was different Steve. She got under my skin and I laid myself bare for her and she rejected me.” You winced at his statement, your guilt starting to bubble a little under the surface.
“So what?” Steve snorted “You get your feelings hurt and you decide that being pissed off all the time is the best way to handle that?”
“I don’t wanna get into this Murphy.” He sighed and Steve just waved him off, no point in pushing.
They moved on to more trivial subjects after that. Mainly about the case and you found it easy to slip off to sleep then. Before you knew it the car came to a halt and everyone started to get themselves ready for the small hike from the car park to the lake. Connie pulled the picnic she’d made from the boot of the car and you started to ask her about what she’d decided to put in there. Anything to try and distract yourself from the guilt you had brewing inside of you.
When you reached the top of the path, the view of the lake was stunning. It was like a rich jade that glittered in the bright sunshine, nestled in the middle of a lush forest. It brought a smile to your face that Javier couldn’t help but find himself mesmerized by and he allowed himself to admire you for a moment before he was trekking down the path towards the water.
You’d picked a good day to visit. The temperature was just right and there wasn’t another soul to be seen. When paying entry, the desk clerk had seemed relieved to see you all and you wondered if she’d perhaps expected a slow day. Tourism had taken a bit of a nose dive in recent years.
A few hours later you had found a nice spot to sit and enjoy the picnic that Connie had brought, the guys sipping on their slightly warm beers as you enjoyed some freshly made lemonade with her.
“So, glad we came?” Steve asked as he picked up a few more chips and threw them in his mouth.
“Definitely.” You replied almost breathlessly “I have been meaning to come and visit since we arrived but it seems that we never have time to visit anywhere,” You finished with a chuckle.
“I’d happily suggest a few other places you could visit Espina.” Javier piped up, his tone soft which made your guilt start to simmer once again “I had a chance to visit a few places when I first arrived.” He finished with a shrug, eyes then darting down to the bottle in his hands.
“I’d like that Javi.” You replied sweetly and his head shot up in surprise at your reply “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He replied, a little stunned.
There was a reason you’d been named Espina. You’d developed a reputation for having a prickly personality as Steve had worded it. Javier had continuously referred to you as the thorn in his side and after your first operation with Carillo, he’d gifted you the nickname.
And you kinda liked it.
“So I was thinking we could trek for a bit longer, walk all this food off and then we can head back?” Connie piped up, pulling all eyes to her.
“Yeah… Yeah uh… That sounds good.” You replied distractedly as you shook your head of the static that had taken up residence and started to help pack everything away again.
Once everything was packed, you started up your trek again. Javier walked ahead of Steve and you trailed behind a little with Connie, talking to her about her work at the Communa and yours at the embassy. When the terrain started to get a little difficult the four of your stopped, admiring your surroundings as you sipped at your waters.
“Probably best to start heading back now.” Suggested Steve and everyone agreed, you and Connie then took the lead as you turned around and started to trek back up the hill.
“Ahh.” Expelled Javier as he felt a nip at his ankle.
“You okay man?” Steve asked, looking over his shoulder at his partner.
“Yeah,” Javier replied, shaking his head a moment before following everyone else.
The walk then passed into a comfortable silence as everyone focused on getting back up the hill and to the car. When you reached the peak, you turned to admire the view again a moment, smiling at Steve as he passed you before your eyes drifted to Javier who was trailing quite a bit behind. He looked exhausted and you smirked at the sight as he traipsed up the last few steps.
“Think someone needs to quit smoking.” You teased once he was in earshot, grinning at him as he came to a stop just a few feet in front of you.
Your smile dropped when he did.
It seemed to happen in slow motion. One moment he was standing there, then next he was on the ground, gasping like a fish out of water. You were at his side in the blink of an eye.
“Javi?” You said panicked as you noted his skin was pale and his whole body seemed to be wracked with chills “CONNIE.” You screamed as loudly as you could “Stay awake Javi, stay with me now…. Come on.” You pleaded when his eyes started to droop and then your head shot up when you heard thumping footsteps on the earth beside you.
“What happened?” She asked as she dropped to your side and you shook your head, tears starting to form as you looked back at Pena.
“He just collapsed.” You managed to choke out and Connie nodded as she started to check Javier over.
“Javi… Javi, can you hear me?” She asked, smiling when he weakly nodded at her “Good, that's really good Javi. Now I need you to tell me what happened?” She asked, sighing when the agent didn’t answer her.
Feeling his pulse, she found it pounding rapidly beneath her fingertips. Then her brain went into medical mode.
Rapid pulse… Chills… Difficulty breathing…
Her eyes shot open as the dots started to connect.
“Check his ankles.” She ordered and you gave her a bemused look.
“What?”
“Just do it.” She said sternly and you nodded, shifting so you could take a look and lifting his pant leg, you found something “Connie…”
Her eyes shot up to what you were showing her and then to Steve who’d been standing silently, watching in shock at what was unfurling before him.
“What?” He asked, finally finding the strength to speak “What is it?”
“Snakebite.” Connie replied grimly and you sobbed “We need to get him to a hospital.”
“Don’t we need to find the snake?” You asked and Connie just shook her head “We don’t know where or when he was bitten… Snakes probably long gone.”
“When we turned back.” Steve said out of the blue, grabbing your’s and Connie’s attention.
“What was that Steve?” His wife asked.
“When we turned around to walk back. He said ow and I asked if he was okay. That must have been when it bit him.” He elaborated and you sobbed.
“That was over an hour ago.” You choked; your attention was grabbed by Javier as he started to gasp in your arms.
“There’s no time to go look. We need to get him to the car and to a hospital ASAP.” Connie ordered and Steve sprang into action, lifting his partner into his arms and practically sprinting back in the direction of the truck.
As soon as you made it back, it was a blur of Connie clambering into the back and helping Steve lay Javier down over the back seat of his truck. You then leapt into the passenger seat as Steve took up position in the drivers, the vehicle screaming to life and kicking up dust in its wake as Murphy screamed out of the park and towards the main road. You turned your head to see Connie stroking Javier’s hair affectionately as she monitored his strained breathing. If it were possible, Javi looked every worse than he had when he collapsed. His lips had started to turn blue, and his lids drooped severely.
“We’re going to get you to help Javier.” Said Connie softly as she cupped his cheek in the hope to ground him “You just need to keep breathing, okay?”
You watched him closely, noting the tiniest little nod of affirmation from the agent as he visibly leaned into Connie’s touch. You couldn’t believe this was happening. What was supposed to be a day to mend fences and spend time with the people you cared most about had turned into utter chaos.
“Javier… Javier, you need to breathe Hunny.” Said Connie, pulling you from your thoughts and your eyes snapped to the agent who was now struggling to pull in any air whatsoever.
Steve was driving like a demon, but you knew you still had a while till you reached the hospital, Javier was running out of time and quickly. Your eyes locked with his and you gave him a soft smile, praying that it would give him any sort of comfort and when he weakly held out his hand to you, you took it without question. He seemed to relax a little then, pulling in a few weak breaths and so, despite how uncomfortable the position was, if you could help Javier by holding his hand, that’s what you were going to do.
The drive seemed to stretch on forever. Your arm had come to sleep some time ago and your back was starting to ache from the twisted position you were seated in but that was nothing in comparison to the state that Javier was in.
“We’re ten minutes out.” Steve announced when the familiar streets of Bogota filled his vision and you smiled.
“Hear that Javi?” You said sweetly as you turned your head to look at him again “We’re almost there.”
The corner of his lips seemed to twitch slightly as if attempting to smile but then his eyes slipped shut and his hand left your grasp.
“Javi?” You questioned as Connie positioned her ear over his mouth “Javi?” You called again, sobbing when Connie then turned her head and started to blow rescue breaths into his mouth.
“What’s happening?” Steve questioned, noting you shaking your head and sobbing as you repeated ‘no’ over and over again like a prayer.
“He’s stopped breathing,” Connie announced as she started compressions, somehow holding firm when the car jolted as it sped up.
You watched hopelessly as Connie performed CPR on your partner, desperately trying to keep him alive those last few minutes until they arrived at the hospital. Then the car came to an abrupt stop and Steve was out, screaming for help as he rounded the car to get to his partner.
Then everything was a flurry of activity.
You followed them as they wheeled him in, Steve flashing his badge at anyone that tried to force them out.
“What happened?” Ask the doctor and you breathed a sigh of relief that he spoke English.
“He’s been bitten by a snake.” Connie answered, “We don’t know what though.” She finished and the doctor nodded.
Alarms blaring grabbed their attention and soon the three of you were being pushed to one side and they started to work. In what seemed like the drop of a pin, he was intubated, and a nurse was pumping air into his struggling lungs whilst another prepared a machine that made your stomach turn. They shocked him once, air was pumped, and the alarm continued to ring out that dreaded single tone. He was shocked a second time and still nothing.
“Javi, please.” You squeaked, holding onto Steve so tightly that you were sure you’d break his arm.
Then, he was shocked a third time and the tone changed its tune. Everyone breathed a consecutive sigh of relief before they jumped into action. He was whisked away again and this time you were able to follow.
“We need to figure out what bit him.” The doctor stated to Connie, the only one still keeping her cool “We will update you as soon as we can.” With that, he left and you were escorted to a waiting area, the three of you huddling together in preparation for the long wait you had ahead of you.
“I used him and treated him horribly.” You piped up after some time, your hands shaking as you spoke.
“What’s that sweetheart?” Connie asked as she looked up at you.
“Javi and I, we uh… Well a few days after I arrived, we hooked up.” You confessed, noting Connie’s surprised expression “He wanted more and I kept shutting him down. I guess part of me found it hard to believe that Javier Pena, the notorious lady’s man, would want to go steady with me.” You chuckled sadly as you looked down at your hands “I kept shutting him down in such awful ways, hoping he’d get put off but I just ended up hurting him… And now he could die, never knowing how I actually feel about him.” You sobbed as your guilt gripped your heart like a vice.
“And how do you actually feel about him?” Steve asked, blue eyes boring into you.
“I’m crazy about him.” You confessed “He lives rent-free inside my head. I… Well, I suppressed these feelings for so long that I guess I managed to fool myself into thinking that I could just ignore them but seeing him like that, and knowing now that I might never see him again… Well turns out I was an idiot.”
“Javi’s strong, he’s going to pull through this.” She said softly, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze.
“He’s still going to hate me at the end of it.” You sobbed, your head dropping to Connie’s shoulder.
“I don’t think he hates you.” Steve piped up, remembering the tortured expression on his friend's face when they spoke earlier “Just make sure that if he comes through this, you make sure you mend things… Life’s too short.”
It was several more hours before you received the news. You were sitting staring at a medical poster, trying your hardest to work out what it said, when the doctor appeared in front of you looking as tired as you all felt.
“How is he?” Steve asked, his voice a little shaky.
“He’s stable.” The doctor confirmed, “It was touch and go there for a moment.” He confessed “The venom hit him hard, but he is responding well to treatment. As long as there are no complications, I think he will be okay.” He finished and sobbed, letting out the breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.
“When can we see him?” You asked, your voice so quiet that the doctor almost missed it.
“Now is fine, I will get a nurse to show you to his room.” He finished.
“Thanks, doc.” Steve said as he shook the man's hand “For everything.”
“Just doing my job.” He replied with a shrug before giving you all a small nod and leaving the room.
Sure enough, a short while later, a nurse fetched you all and led you to a small, plainly decorated room with Javier laying in a bed centred along the far wall. He looked a lot better than he had when you’d last seen him. The colour in his skin had started to return and his eye no longer dropped the way they had before. He gave you all a weak smile as you entered, watching you closely as you perched yourself on the edge of his bed.
“How are you feeling brother?” Steve asked as he came to a stop on the other side of the bed, placing a friendly hand on Javier’s shoulder.
“Like I almost died.” The agent joked, eyes flitting to you again before returning to the Murphy’s.
“I owe you my life.” He said, his brows knitting together and his bottom lip wobbling “If you guys hadn’t-“
“Let’s not think about that now.” You interrupted, taking his hand and stroking your thumb over his knuckles “You’re okay and that’s all that matters.”
Javier nodded as his gaze locked with yours, his expression softening at the sweet smile filling your features. Connie's coughing pulled your attention away from each other and your heart raced as you both looked at her.
“We’re going to go find some coffee, you want some?”
“Please.” You replied in unison, and she smiled before motioning for her husband to follow her.
Leaving the two of you in tense silence.
It remained that way a while before you both couldn’t take it a moment longer.
“I’m sorry.” You both said in unison, then both sporting a similarly confused expression.
“Why are you sorry Javi?” You asked softly and he sighed.
“For trying to push my feelings on you then acting like a child about not getting my way.” He replied, “You don’t feel the same and I respect that.” He paused a moment as he let his head fall back onto the pillow then roll to look at you “I would like us to start over… If we can.”
“Javi I…” You trailed off a moment as you fought to find the words to express how you feel. Now was your moment and you weren’t going to waste it “I do feel the same.”
“What?” Javier whispered, his brow drawing together as he awaited your reply.
“I uh… I do feel the same way about you, Javier… I’m sorry it took you almost dying for me to admit that I can’t keep suppressing these feelings I have.” You sob “You own me Javier and I can’t get you out of my head so… I want to start over too.” You agreed, a small smile spreading across your face “How about we start with dinner?”
“Like a date?” Javier asked, his voice wobbling as tears started to pool.
“Yeah, Javier… Like a date.” You chuckled “What’ya say?”
“I say…” He trailed off a moment his expression turning stony and making your stomach twist a little “I’ll think about it.” He finished, his face splitting into a grin as he winked at you.
“Asshole.” You grumbled as you playfully punched his arm.
“Yeah but you love me.” He teased as he smiled at you sweetly.
“Yeah.” You agreed as you beamed at him “Yeah I do.”
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You Brought Your Worst and I’m Right Here - Chapter Four: Was it just a summer fling?
Pairing: Gale of Waterdeep x female Tav
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Work Summary:
After an explosive falling out between Gale and his academic adviser, Mystra, Tav is left to pick up the pieces.
Modern/College AU.
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5…
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 1699
Read on AO3.
Masterlists.
Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye
Taglist info
Previous Chapter
Notes: all the usual warnings, plus arguing/shouting and general mental health stuff
---
A year ago
The chessboard was set. It was a Saturday night in the winter of their third year, all of their friends were out celebrating the end of exams, and Tav and Gale were sitting across from each other, chessboard between them.
Tav hadn’t much liked chess before she met Gale. Even still, he usually won, because she didn’t have the patience to think through every move as carefully as she knew she should.
But she liked playing with Gale. His eyebrows drew together in concentration, and when the games were close, she catch a glimpse of his tongue poking out from between his teeth. It was precious.
She took a sip of her hot chocolate, eyes intent on his face. He didn’t notice. He was far too focused on the game.
They had a longstanding “loser pays for dinner” agreement, but Tav wasn’t worried. Gale never made her pay more than her fair share, even when he should. She knew he came from a pretty well-off family, so it was no skin off his back.
Decisively, he moved a bishop, taking one of her knights. She watched his fingers wrap around the elegantly carved little wooden horse and put it to the side. Her eyes followed the movement of his hands as he wove his fingers together, resting his elbows on the table.
He had strong, dextrous hands. Not for the first time, Tav wondered what it would feel like to interlace her fingers with his.
He cleared his throat, and her eyes darted to his, startled, like she’d been caught. There was an amused expression on his face.
“Your move,” he said, gesturing at the board.
“I know,” she said, voice coming out a little strained. “I’m just… contemplating my options.”
“Of course. By all means.” He sat back in his chair, that smug little smile on his face. If he were anyone else, she would probably want to punch him, but somehow Gale managed to make smug look charming.
She stared back at the board. Her stomach grumbled.
“Hungry?” he said. “We can order now, if you-”
“No, I’m fine.” She was starting to realise that perhaps chess was a bad idea. Her last exam of the semester had been yesterday, and her brain was very tired. Perhaps that explained why she was feeling more impatient than usual.
She took her move, fully aware that there were surely better moves that she hadn’t even considered. Sure enough, in two more turns, Gale was check-mating her. He didn’t even take a moment to bask in his victory like he usually did.
“Now can we order food? I’m famished,” he said. He was grinning at her in a way that made her empty stomach do a little flip.
“Fine. But after dinner, we’re playing Settlers of Catan.” Now that was a game that Tav had a better shot of winning.
“Fine by me.”
*
Now
Tav heard Gale’s voice before she saw him. Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of the front door closing. He was home.
She strode over to her bedroom door, and then hesitated. Would he even want to see her, after she’d avoided coming to visit? Did she even want to see him?
Distantly, she heard Wyll saying something, and then a laugh. That was good. At least he didn’t sound miserable.
Her hand was resting on the doorknob. Her other hand went to her pocket, pulling out her phone. There were no new messages, but maybe she should check her emails? She scanned through her messaging apps, and the next thing she knew, she was scrolling through twitter.
She perched on her desk chair. She wasn’t fully sitting down; she would get up and go downstairs in a moment. Just as soon as she’d finished reading this thread.
When the knock came at her door, startling her, she realised that it was getting dark in her room. Her lips curled into a frown as she got to her feet and switched the light on. Before she could talk herself out of it, she opened the door.
Gale was standing in the hallway outside of her room. When their eyes met, he smiled at her uneasily. All of the things that Tav should’ve, could’ve, still could say rushed through her mind in a torrent that made it hard to catch hold of any one string of words.
“I love you” and “I’m sorry” and “you scared the ever-loving shit out of me” availed themselves of her, but all felt too crass or too honest. She had to protect her heart, because no one else would.
“Hey,” said Gale. “Tav. It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too,” she said stiffly. “I’m glad you’re…” Alive. “… okay.”
“Yeah.” There was a pause. Tav was finding that her eyes were happy to settle anywhere but on his face. She fixed her gaze on a painting hanging on the wall behind him. “How are you?”
“Oh, you know. I’m okay. Been busy, you know?” She braced herself. “Sorry I couldn’t come and see you in the hospital. It was… all a bit hectic, with coursework, and stuff, you know?”
Gale swallowed. “Of course. It’s fine. You don’t need to apologise.”
They were both lying, and they both knew it.
“Are you coming down for dinner?” he asked. “Karlach and Lae’zel are both coming over to celebrate my release.”
“Of course. I’ll be down in a minute.”
For the first time, Gale smiled. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
*
It had been four days since Gale had come home, and Tav hadn’t been alone with him since the first evening when he’d come and knocked on her door. She would disappear up to her room as soon as she got home from classes, emerge at mealtimes (Wyll was pretty insistent that they all try to eat dinner together, where possible) and then go back to her room.
Every so often, she could feel Gale’s eyes on her during dinner, but she staunchly avoided his gaze.
And it wasn’t that she wasn’t trying. Sometimes, she would make a concerted effort to make conversation with him, but every word felt stilted and forced.
It didn’t help that she was sleep deprived. She slept fitfully, plagued by nightmares of Gale’s limp body and vomit-stained sheets. It was all she could see whenever she closed her eyes.
She was alone in the kitchen when he cornered her. Her heart plummeted as he walked into the room.
“Tav. Hey,” he said, looking nervous.
“Afternoon,” she said, opening the fridge, just so that she would have somewhere to look.
“Can we talk?”
It took every ounce of her self-control not to visibly blanche. “Sure.” She still wasn’t looking at him.
“Are we… okay? It feels like things have been… weird between us.”
Tav watched as the fridge door gave a little shudder. She couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing, until her eyes traced a path to her trembling hand that was curled, vice-like around the handle of the fridge door. She laughed – wet, throaty – at the absurdity of it, blinking back tears.
“Are we okay?” she repeated, stifling another hysterical laugh. She released the door, letting it fall shut. “Of course we’re not okay, Gale. You tried to kill yourself.”
She turned to look at him, then. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open as if he was about to say something, but no words came.
“I thought I’d lost you.” Her shaking hands came up to her face to rub away at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. “I found you, did you know that? I found your unconscious body and I was scared that you were already dead. I thought I was going to live the rest of my life with you on my conscience because I couldn’t save you.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, so softly that she almost missed it.
“I know that,” she snapped back at him, taken aback by the harshness of her own voice. “And all I could wonder is why you never talked to me. Why you never told me what was going on with you. Why you wouldn’t let me help you. You spent months pushing me away and leaving me to worry what I’d done wrong. And now you wonder why I can barely look at you?” She was almost shouting now. Her voice felt wrong to her own ears. Still, Gale was just staring at her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
“It hurt, Gale,” she said, much quieter now. “You hurt me and scared me and I don’t know how to forgive you, and I feel guilty because I know how hard this must be for you, but that doesn’t make me any less angry.”
“Is everything okay?” Wyll’s voice from the doorway made her jump. He stepped into the kitchen, looking from Gale to Tav and back, concern in his eyes. Astarion followed behind him, although his eyes stayed fixed on Tav.
She swallowed. She looked at Gale. He looked devastated, staring back at her with his big brown puppy dog eyes.
“Tav,” he said, and that made her hackles rise again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
His apologies hit her like a blow to the chest. He was the one who needed help right now. What was she doing shouting at him and making him feel worse about himself? The last thing he needed was for someone to push him back towards the edge.
A sob shuddered through her and she stepped backwards, her back hitting the fridge. Gale reached for her but she shook her head, and he drew back.
“I don’t want you to apologise,” she said. Her voice sounded high and weak. “I just want you to be okay.”
She couldn’t look at any of them as she walked past them. Her feet carried her back to her bedroom, where she drew the deadbolt across and shut the curtains. In the dark, she stripped off her bra and jeans, leaving her in just a t-shirt and underwear, and then crawled into bed.
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