#and the printer is our front door
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The Ink Shop
Description: Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson.
Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI or I'll tell your parents, fem reader, thick sexual tension, angst and smut. Fingering.
A/N: I finally wrote it! The teach me fic I've been day dreaming about forever. This will be part one of three, and honestly this is one of the hottest things I've written. If you enjoy it, please comment and reblog, it means the world to me.
8k words
Masterlist Part 2
Screwing your nose up in confusion, you look at the meticulously cut snippet of newspaper neatly attached to your resume with a paperclip. Sure enough, receptionist and administrator wanted for a place called ‘The Ink Shop’.
The outside of the building looks a little bleak, all decked out in black with frosted windows, but the fading lettering above does indeed spell out ‘The Ink Shop’.
Weird. This does not look like a printers.
You smooth down a minor wrinkle in your white shirt and open the door with unsure hands, the bell above ringing out loudly.
Oh.
This is not a printers. This is a tattoo shop.
The thought hadn't even crossed your mind. The noise is a cacophony of buzzing, rock music and loud conversation. Art hangs on every available wall, the wallpaper underneath a royal purple, faded over time. There's frames upon frames of predesigned pieces for people to choose from, and an enormous wooden counter, black and gouged with use, directly in front of the doors.
Taking a confidence boosting breath you march forward, pencil skirt stretching and heels clicking on the black and white linoleum, and stand by the counter. No one seems to have noticed your arrival, and a polite cough is not going to cut it.
“Hello?” Calling out to the shop, a devilishly handsome tattooed man in a ripped band shirt, black jeans and scuffed army boots turns his head. Loose dark curls escape a low bun and swivel with him, framing his animated face. He saunters over to the counter and towers over you, giving you an appraising look.
“You old enough to be in here sweetheart?” He asks, amused, as he points to the sign on the wall that states ‘Strictly Over 21s, no exceptions’.
“Yes?” You're trying to be confident but it comes out as a question, entirely taken aback by the strength of his stare.
“Oh, well then I'm Eddie,” he holds out a hand and you're forced to reach up to shake it, but to your surprise he doesn't let go. The skin is rougher than you thought it would be, and absolutely covered in small tattoos. “What is it today? Let me guess, cover up an ex boyfriend's name? I can help you forget all about him.”
The grin he shoots back is nothing short of predatory. All you can think of is that old childhood song, never smile at a crocodile…
“No, no, I'm here about the job?”
He looks genuinely surprised, taking in your outfit in another flagrant stare.
“Really? You?”
“Yes, me.” You respond, cheeks flushing in annoyance.
“Hey, Mac!” He calls over his shoulder and a big guy with a shaved head lowers his tattoo gun, glancing over at you both. “This girl's after a job?”
Mac stands up slowly and begins to walk over.
“You can let go now princess.”
Staring at Eddie dumbfoundedly, you realise his grip on your hand has softened completely. Whipping your hand away, you flash him a defiant eye. It's ineffective; he merely grins wider and winks at you, poking his tongue out playfully. You see a hint of silver, a tongue piercing.
“Hey there, I'm Mac, the owner.” another handshake, but gentler and brief. You introduce yourself and go to hand him your resume.
A phone rings on the counter and Mac shouts “no!” just as Eddie picks it up.
“Mac’s Roadkill Café, from your grill to ours.” Eddie delivers the line as smooth as silk, never taking his eyes off you. “Yeah, it's Eddie, of course. Oh, I'll tell him. Thanks.”
As Eddie turns to Mac he's given a small but effective slap to the back of the head by Mac.
“What did I tell you, stop answering like that!”
Eddie just grins wider and looks at you again, a fake pout on his full lips.
“You see that? Harassment in the workplace. Wanna kiss it better?”
Mac shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, then turns to face you again.
“Are you immediate start?”
“Er, yeah. I've got my resume, and references here-”
“Listen Miss, if you can read and write, answer a phone, and put up with that-” he says, gesturing a thumb at Eddie, “then you've got the job.”
Thank God, two of those references were your best friend with different names. Stunned, you just nod fast.
“Great. Tomorrow morning. We open at 10am.”
Saying goodbye, you turn to exit, and risk one final glance over your shoulder. Eddie's still at the counter. A disarming wink, and then the door shuts behind you.
********************
So, not exactly what you expected, but a job's a job. After getting a degree, you'd assumed doors would open, but a string of coffee houses later and here you are. You'll take it.
It's 9:30 am, and you stand outside, wondering whether or not to try the door. Keen, but not too keen. It's a line you're trying to toe without much experience, especially with an establishment like this.
A pretty woman with an undercut and a butterfly neck tattoo stirs you out of your calculations.
“Hey, I'm Chloe. You're the new girl, right? Eddie bet you'd be early.”
Blushing at the entirely accurate first impression, you try to stop your nose scrunching in distaste. As if reading your mind, Chloe chuckles.
“Ah, don't worry about him, he's an idiot. Come on, I'll show you the ropes.”
Chloe is the piercer that basically rents a place in the shop, where she's been for around three years, she explains. There's also Julio, who does more realistic tattoo work, and Miranda who works part time.
Chloe turns out to be warm and welcoming, showing you how they book clients in, how to take payments, and the phone note system. It's straightforward work, stuff you'll master in no time. In fact, you feel comfortable enough by 10 am to sit at the counter on your own.
Mac arrives on time, giving you a quick check in and taking down all your information on a yellow legal pad.
“Do you not have a computer in here?” you ask, genuinely puzzled.
“Oh no, not yet. I don't know how to work those things, Miss.” Mac chuckles, and gets to his station to prepare for his first client.
At 10:45 am Eddie walks through the door as if he owns the place.
Your eyes widen at his brazen lateness, but no one seems to bat an eyelid. It boils your blood; to be that disrespectful and clearly not care. How could someone act like that?
“Hey princess, didn't think you'd come back,” he smiles, reaching for your hand.
Oh I'm not falling for that again.
You pull your hand into your lap, expecting trickery from him. A smug grin smears across his face at the gesture, as if he knew you'd do that. It makes you even more annoyed.
“Eddie, the book says you start,” you say, flicking through the tome in front of you, “ah, at 10 am today.”
“It's walk-in Wednesday sweetheart. There's no one here.”
He's got a point. Chloe had explained the tattoo artists work a shift of Wednesdays, someone is always available for walk-ins for small and pre designed pieces. Today is Eddie's turn, and he's right, no one is here.
“Well, there could have been,” you snark back, folding your arms.
He crosses into the shop, pushing the little gate open and stands next to you, arms crossed. The height you had is now lost, forcing you to look up at him.
“As far as I know, you ain't the boss of me. I suggest taking the stick out of your ass before you come here.”
Mouth falling open in outrage, you move to reply but he's already turned away.
“Oh, and princess, there ain't a dress code.”
He's gone, disappearing upstairs. Blushing crimson, you cross your arms as if you can hide the conservative outfit you're wearing.
You're beginning to see why Mac asked if you could put up with Eddie.
********************
Halfway through the day, you realise just why Mac puts up with Eddie.
“Hey! Seeing if I can book with Eddie?”
“Any appointments with Eddie?”
“Just checking to see if Eddie had any cancellations?”
It seems most calls are about him. As you check his schedule, it's not only fully booked for the next 6 months, they've even started a waiting list at the back.
“Any walk-ins?”
The words next to your ear make you jump bodily, almost losing your place on your chair in alarm.
“You scared me! No, I would have said,” turning to him, you're sucked into those deep brown eyes once again. “Why do you do walk-in Wednesdays if you're so… so popular?”
Eddie flashes a smile at you, full of self importance. “I don't know sweetheart, Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle!” Shouting the last part at the back of Mac's head, he turns to you. “We just divided the shifts, so it was fair, that's all. Why, want a tattoo?”
You roll your eyes. “No, I was just wondering.”
“Do you have any, princess?”
“Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't.”
The laugh that rips from Eddie's chest is hearty and full of amusement.
“You work in a tattoo shop and you don't have any? That's practically blasphemy!”
The little bell above the door rings, and a nervous guy looks around before walking in. Before you see what he wants, you shout to Eddie's retreating back.
“Van Gogh was only famous after he died, you know!”
It's a little later on in the day; you've done a stock take, ordered more ink, and neatened up the consent sheets three times. The phone hasn't rung in a while, and you're bored out of your mind.
Chloe walks over, coat in her hand.
“Hey, how you getting on?”
“I'm good, just bored.”
She laughs, “it's not always this quiet, mid week and all. Mac's done for the day, and I'm heading off. You gonna be OK?”
You glance over to Eddie, who to your surprise is tattooing his own fingers.
“What, with the untrained monkey? I'll live.”
She laughs harder at that, “he's not so bad, once you get to know him.” Lowering her voice, she whispers, “he's good at some things, you know.” The conspiratorial wink fills in what she isn't saying. Cheeks flushed, you gawp at Eddie and back at Chloe.
“Huh? W-what, are you like, an item?” You ask, entirely thrown.
“Oh no, he's not exactly boyfriend material. It was just one night, but bloody hell. Anyway, it's not like that anymore, we're just friends now. Maybe you two should just, you know.”
A blush floods your face, almost reaching the roots of your hair. “I don't- I don't, do that.”
“I'm just saying, it's an option. It'd stop the bickering at least. I can sense the tension from all the way over there.”
Without a further word, she leaves you sitting on your stool, trying to remember how to breathe.
Right, let's just play nice.
Walking over to his station, you try to glimpse what he's tattooing.
“I thought Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle” you quip, trying to keep it light.
“This is different” he responds, not looking up at you.
“You know, that's a waste of a needle.”
Eddie turns the machine off and rolls his eyes at you.
“Who made you Princess of the Needles, hmmm?”
“Mac did actually, when he asked me to check the stock,” you reply hotly, folding your arms. Stopping for a second, you take a breath. Play nice, you're supposed to be playing nice.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to-”
Eddie turns the machine back on and continues with his impromptu tattoo.
“Can't you just be… professional?” You ask over the buzzing.
“Can't you just relax for a second? No ones here. Fuck, you need to get laid.”
Mouth dropping open in shock, you grab your bag and stomp out of the store, anger fuelling every step.
********************
Right, be calm, put together. You've dealt with worse people.
It's true. At the coffee shop you had on edge caffeine addicts shout in your face almost on a daily basis, but none of them got under your skin like Eddie did. Then again, none of them had spat truths like venom in your face.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Taking the leap, you walk into the shop, coffees and a tray of donuts in hand; a small peace offering. To your surprise, he is already at his station, sorting through ink pots.
You make quick work of handing out coffee and donuts to everyone, until you reach his side. There's plastic wrap around one of his fingers, you assume from his little tattoo session yesterday. It only serves to remind you of how tetchy you were.
“Morning Eddie.”
“So you came back. Tough little princess ain't ya? Remove the stick from your ass yet?” The grin he flashes you is wide but there's a bite to his words.
He's trying to rile you up, but you ignore it, thrusting a coffee at him.
“I'll be nice if you will.”
Tension laces the air as he stares at your outstretched hand, but he takes the coffee.
“I'm sorry Eddie.”
Opening the box of donuts, you gesture for him to take one. He does, stuffing half of it into his mouth.
“What about you?” you ask.
“Huh?” He mumbles through a mouthful of crumbs.
“Are you sorry…?”
“What for?”
Setting your jaw, your hand is about two seconds from slapping the shit out of him, but you need the money. So, you huff and walk away.
“What did I do?” He huffs, shouting it to the shop.
“You should just say sorry, you've clearly upset her.” Chloe calls over to him, a slight smile on her face.
“Yeah, how do you know?”
“You upset everyone Eddie.” She laughs, and stands to greet her first client.
It's a tense kind of day, with neither you nor Eddie backing down, only speaking to each other if absolutely necessary. By the time everyone's left it's just you and him again.
He's finishing up with a client, telling them about aftercare as they gush about their new ink. It's difficult to deny, the guy is talented. This phoenix tattoo looks like it's popping right off of the skin, the flames so bright and detailed you could swear you saw them move.
Once they've left, there's an awkward pause. Eddie breaks the silence first.
“Listen, I'm sorry sweetheart. I shouldn't have been rude to you. So I'll make you a deal. I'll give you a tattoo, for free, and we ask each other questions, get to know each other. What do you say?”
Smiling in spite of yourself, you turn to face him. “And why would I want a tattoo?”
He visibly relaxes at your grin, and flashes one of his own. “Come on, I'm the best. I promise I'll be gentle.”
“We close at six, so it'll have to wait.”
Eddie looks at the clock, and bobs his head with each tick. Twenty seconds later he turns to you, eyebrows raised.
“Fine, I suppose it is a bit silly to work in a tattoo shop with no ink.”
He punches the air with glee, forcing you to smile despite your better judgement.
“Well then, what are you thinking, got any ideas in mind?”
“I want a heart on my hip” he groans, putting his face in his hands, “hang on, before you judge, I want one like this.”
Pulling a book from your bag, you turn to the page neatly bookmarked. It's an anatomical heart from a textbook you own, a line and dot drawing.
“Oh.” Eddie's eyes light up, “that's pretty metal, actually. So, you just happen to have this on you?”
“No, I've been thinking about it for a while. It's… not what people would expect. And when I got the job here, I was working up the courage to get it. Carrying around the book was a promise to myself, I think.”
He busies himself with getting a stencil ready, the drawing supplied speeding up the process.
“Right, climb on up princess, show me where you want it.”
Blushing, you unzip your skirt at the back and roll it down slightly, shifting your blouse up high. The smile Eddie gives you is salacious, but he doesn't say a word.
“Right here?” Softly his fingertips graze you, making you jump. That simple act crackles over your skin in an electricity unknown to you.
“Y-yes,” you practically whisper it, face crimson.
“So, questions. Can I go first?”
“Sure” you nod, feeling vulnerable flashing this much skin.
“OK,” he starts, pressing the stencil down, “I'll start with an easy one. How old are you?”
“23.”
He nods, prepping the needle, “your turn princess.”
“How old are you?”
“Ah, copycat,” he grins, testing the gun, the sudden noise making you jump, “I'm 30 sweetheart. I know, I look younger.”
Act younger is more like it.
“I'm gonna start, you still alright?”
“Uh huh.”
“Atta girl. It'll feel like a scratch.”
He leans forward as his words burn your insides. Atta girl? Part of you wanted to tell him you're not a fucking horse, but another, deeper, part keens at the praise, kicking it's feet and twirling its hair like some dizzy schoolgirl.
The needle touches and you jump, but it's fine. It's easy. If anything, it's rather nice? You gasp at the feeling, your feet wiggling.
“Right, next question. Why here, why this job?”
The gun is moving across your skin, consuming all rational thought. You could lie, but a part of you feels like he'd know somehow.
“I thought it was a printers shop, or a copy place.”
He laughs briefly, but continues to focus on your new ink.
“I knew it. Pretty, innocent thing like you, wandering into this den of depravity? Too good to be true.”
Glazing over his comment, you think of a question to ask.
“How did you start working here?”
Eddie scoffs and turns off his machine for a moment, “you need to get creative, stop using my questions.”
“I really want to know!” You say, meeting his derisory look.
“Fine, quid pro quo and all that shit. Been here seven years. I begged. I begged Mac for an apprenticeship everyday for a week. He gave in, and here I am. Ask something else, that was boring.”
You wrack your brains, trying to think of something original, far too aware of the steadying hand that he's pushing onto your abdomen.
“What band is that?”
It's the only thing that pops into your mind. He follows your eye line to his t-shirt.
“Oh this? This is my band, Corroded Coffin. You should come see us sometime.”
“Oh, what do you play?”
His face lights up, “I sing, and play guitar. That's why my fingers are so rough-” he holds one up, covered in black latex, “-oh yeah, gloves.”
After you both share a chuckle, there's a breath of quiet between you, except for the sound of the tattoo gun.
“My turn,” he says, smiling at your hip, “I gotta know, are you a virgin?”
It's a miracle that he's as responsive as he is, since the question knocks you sideways. You sit up in shock, but he's already moved the needle off and away.
“You can't just ask that, it's… it's rude!” you splutter, face glowing red.
There's no trace of apology on his face. In fact, his grin only widens with your reply.
“I thought so. Don't worry, I'm not gonna tease you about it.”
Laying back down, you try to think of something to say, but it just doesn't arrive. He can read you like an open book and it's deeply unsettling, not to mention embarrassing.
“Your turn princess.”
“I don't want to play anymore.”
“Oh come on, I'm being nice! Ask me something.”
“Fine. What was your last wet dream about?”
To your dismay, he smiles yet again.
“You, sweetheart.”
Huffing, you cross your arms in annoyance. “Fine, don't answer.”
He's focusing on your tattoo, tongue poking out in concentration, “I'm nearly done, then you can go back to hating me.”
“I don't hate you. I've never hated anyone,” you respond in truth. Eddie's eyebrows raise, but he remains focused.
“Really? You must have had a much better childhood than mine.”
It's quiet for a bit. You're not sure how to respond to that, feeling the cloud of his memory hanging thickly in the air between you.
“All done.”
“Huh?”
He chuckles and points at your new ink, “take a look.”
It's beautiful. All line and dot work, like it was pulled from the book itself and glued to your hip.
“It's amazing Eddie. Thank you.”
The grin he shoots you is warm as he wraps your new ink and then removes his gloves. “No problem. I'll lock up, the sheets on aftercare are right there. But you knew that.”
Smiling affectionately, you take one and stand up, hovering for a second.
“Eddie what do I owe-”
“-not a damn thing. See you in the morning, princess.”
********************
The next few days were much more pleasant. Eddie was flirty, yes, but he seemed to understand when to stop. You had been nicer to him, biting back on the comments when you could. There was a rhythm to it, a constant dance of him flustering you and you annoying him.
Things really felt like they were falling into place. Until Eddie decided to cross the line.
Walk in Wednesday again, and the shop was dead. Julio was on shift, sitting in the back having a nap.
“Hey Mac, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, what is it Miss?”
“Well, how do people know about our Wednesdays?”
“Mostly word of mouth. We handed out flyers before, but it didn't really pick up. Honestly, I'm thinking of scrapping it.” He shrugs, taking a sip of coffee.
“Before you do, I have an idea. I can design some flyers, get them out to the coffee shop I used to work at. It's by campus, I'm sure a few students would jump at the chance. You could offer a student discount, get them in the door?” You stare at him wide eyed, hoping he likes the idea. The little speech was one you'd practised about fourteen times before actually saying it to him.
He stares at you for a moment, then smiles. “You know, that's a good idea. I like it. Tell you what, you make it a success and I'll give you a raise.”
“Oh, thank you! I'll get on it.” You beam, and start planning the flyer.
Ten minutes later you have your head down, your attention entirely on the paper in front of you. The noisy shop was purely a background soundtrack, including the approaching footsteps. Then, there's a whisper, directly in your ear.
“What you up to, princess?”
“Fuck!”
You scream it out and jump so high you fall off your stool. Eddie's in bits, laughing so hard he's clutching his stomach.
“I'm sorry I didn't mean to,” he says, looking the least sorry you've ever seen a person look.
Clambering off the floor to berate him, your mouth flops open when you hear a rip. As you desperately turn your head to look down, you see where your pencil skirt has torn right next to the seam nearly up to your ass.
“Fuck's sake Eddie! What the hell am I gonna do!”
Hands shaking, you clench your jaw in panic, trying to frantically come up with a way to rectify it. Eddie holds his hands up to you as if he were approaching a wild animal.
“Just calm down princess, it's only a skirt.”
Pouting, you hit him on the arm.
“It's not just a skirt! I can't work like this, how can I go home and change, I won't be able to fix it and-”
Eddie smiles and holds one of your hands.
“It's gonna be OK, we can sort something out. You seriously need to chill, have a big O or something.” He chuckles, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but it's hitting too close to home.
It's never happened for you. You've kissed guys, sure, but whenever they reach into your pants, it's either uncomfortable or downright painful. Even your own desperate fumblings haven't got you there. Most of the time you just feel stupid and awkward trying to touch yourself. So, you'd given up, thinking you're broken. That it'll never happen for you.
Tears well immediately in your eyes. He knows he fucked up, it's written all over his face. As he opens his mouth to speak you rip your hand from his grasp and run to the restroom sobbing.
It's stupid, it's so stupid. You know that, but the tears won't stop falling, face hot and scrunched as you sit on the closed toilet seat with your head in your hands. Your breath is heavy, gulping and wet; you dimly wonder if you can just stay here until the shop closes.
There's a gentle knock on the door.
“Sweetheart, can I come in?” It's Eddie, voice softer than you've ever heard it.
“Go away” you manage. It's shaky and pathetic sounding, but it's out there.
“I'm not going anywhere. Talk to me, you'll feel better, I promise.”
He tries the door, turning the handle before you get a chance to lock it. Jumping upright, you go to push him away but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into him. His embrace takes away that edge and pretty soon you're just sobbing into his chest.
As he strokes the back of your head, he makes shushing noises, his other arm wrapped tight around your shoulders. You're not sure how long you stay like that, in the warmth of his hold, his body pressed against yours. The tenderness calms you down until your tears stop, but he doesn't pull away.
After a while, he whispers, “feel a little better?”
“Y-yeah,” you say, voice returning to itself.
Only then does he release you, rubbing a thumb under your eye to wipe moisture away.
“I didn't mean to hurt you. You wanna go somewhere and talk about it?”
“I- I've never- I don't talk about- I-” you shake your head as if to clear it. A part of you wants to hit him, to shout at him, but his gaze is so concerned that you agree. Your shoulders slump, losing a bit of tension. “OK.”
Smiling at you, he whips his flannel shirt off, leaving him in a white vest, and ties it around your waist.
“For your modesty. Come with me.”
Puzzled, you follow him out of the bathroom and back into the shop where Mac is sitting looking worried.
“What's going-”
Eddie interrupts, “emergency late lunch needed, alright? Can you cancel my 3 o clock?”
Mac seems confused, but looks at Eddie's earnest face, and your emotional one, and nods.
“Not a problem.”
“Thanks, man.”
Before you can ask where you're going, he pulls you from the shop by the arm and across the street into a dimly lit bar, depositing you in the nearest booth.
“I'll be right back.”
If he's uncomfortable by his appearance, he doesn't show it. The way he strides up to the bar, it's as if he owns the place. It's remarkable, the sheer confidence he embodies like a second skin.
“Hey, John!” He hollers, knuckles knocking on the wood of the bar.
John appears, a gruff, stocky guy with a buzz cut and a sour face.
“What the fuck are you doing here.”
“Oh come on, you know you missed me.”
John's face screws into something akin to a smile. “What do you want, you little shit.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” Eddie grins and winks, “two beers please.”
A grunt and a nod, and John puts the beers down on the bar. As Eddie reaches for his wallet John waves a hand in dismissal.
“Put that away boy, your money ain't good here. Besides, your lady friend looks like she needs it.”
You flush and tear your eyes away, embarrassed. Eddie walks back over and puts a beer in front of you.
“Eddie, we're still working I-”
“It's one beer. It's alright.”
You shrug and take a sip, nodding at the bartender, “he knows I'm upset, do I look a mess?”
Shaking his head so hard it releases some of his wayward waves from their confines, he tips his beer at you, before he takes a long chug.
“No,” he says enthusiastically, “you look just as pretty as you always do.”
Scoffing, you turn your eyes downward. Eddie ignores your response, instead pressing on what happened earlier.
“Sorry again,” he says, sounding genuinely distressed, "I don't want to see anyone hurt from something I said, least of all you.”
Meeting his gaze, you smile incredulously. “Oh? And why me?”
“Come on, don't make me say it.”
Staring at him, you fold your arms in an act of defiance. He rolls his eyes and looks at you.
“I like you. You're uptight, and mean to me, and a little conceited, but I like you. I don't want you to hurt. Can we just be friends? I'm a pretty good listener, you know? I can help.”
Heat floods your insides. Eyes scanning him for any sign of a joke, you come up empty.
‘I'm not conceited,” you counter weakly, clinging on to the familiar push and pull.
“And I'm the Easter bunny.”
Giggling, you take another sip of beer.
“Come on, friends? Talk to me.”
Sighing deeply, you fix your gaze at the table, forefinger tracing patterns in the condensation from your drink. “Promise not to laugh?”
“I promise.”
You can't tell how genuine he's being, as you don't dare look at his face, nerves controlling your every limb. His voice seems honest enough.
“I- I have a problem, something I can't physically do. You reminded me of it. It's not your fault.” Shrugging in an attempt to make this look less serious than it is for you, you take a pull out of your beer bottle once more.
“Wait, are you saying…” he chuckles a little in disbelief, “have you never… had an orgasm before?”
“Eddie, be quiet!” You urgently whisper, looking around the bar.
“No one's listening sweetheart, no spies in here,” he says in a low tone, hand reaching out to grasp yours. Your first instinct is to shake his hand away but he holds firm, rough fingertips rubbing against your knuckles.
“Eddie, I'm broken,” you whimper, voice breaking, “I can't do it.”
“Oh sweetheart,” he responds, chock full of emotion, “you're not broken. You are perfect.”
Pulling your hand away, you keep your eyes away from his, unwilling to meet that burning gaze of his. Unwilling to lose yourself in those sultry dark eyes.
“I can't do it. Anytime some guy tries, it hurts. I've given up to be honest. I just wasn't made for it.”
He laughs again, dragging his hand over his face.
“Fuck, sweetheart, the problem ain't you. Have you- have you tried, fixing it, on your own?” The last part is a whisper, you assume to protect your feelings.
“Yeah, but I just feel stupid and awkward. I don't know.”
There's a little silence between you as you both dwell in the suffocating fog of your confession, neither of you willing to clear it.
“Listen, this may be way out of your comfort zone, but I'm saying it anyway. If you don't like it, we'll forget it, and I won't mention it again.”
Finally looking at him, at the vulnerability on his face, you nod, not trusting your voice.
“I can… maybe I can help you. Show you you're not broken? As a favour between friends.”
You laugh mirthlessly and finish your beer. “That's a little more than a favour, Eddie.”
“We can keep it professional.”
You stare at him wide eyed. His messy hair and dark glittering eyes. At the way he slumps in his seat like a king or a delinquent, you can't decide which. At his taunt frame, the tattoos spackling every available inch of his skin. Your eyebrows raise of their own accord.
“Professional? You?”
“Yeah, me! I can do it, you know. I could make you come.”
A shiver forces its merry way down your spine at his words.
“You're really confident.”
“You haven't seen what I can do.”
Blushing hard, you attempt to control yourself. “Look, if we're going to do this, I need you to promise some things.”
“Ah, of course, you would have rules,” he grins, as he leans back and spreads in his seat, “continue.”
Searching your mind for a moment, you try to glean what you need.
“First of all, we need to be discreet, and professional at all times, clear?”
“As crystal,” he grins wolfishly, “anything else?”
“Yeah- I think,” you wrack your brains, trying to come up with something that would make this less intimate. Anything. But the roguish nature of his presence makes it hard to even think of a thing. Finally, your eyes widen at the idea that suddenly crosses your mind.
“Final rule. No kissing.”
He pouts, looking at your chest and back up, “no kissing anywhere?”
“N-no, no kissing on the mouth.”
Grin returning, he winks at you, a gesture that flips your stomach inside out.
“Kinky. Alright, deal,” he leans forward to give his hand to yours. A hand covered in ink and calluses. Roughness and tenderness.
You shake it.
********************
For the next couple of days, your little arrangement isn't brought up. A wild thought hammers itself into your mind; either he wasn't serious, or you imagined it.
Those theories are put to bed on day three.
After you let Mac know about the flyers and the bonus poster you designed, you sit back and enjoy the praise given to you. It's funny, the feeling of being told a job has been well done makes you happier than you care to admit.
Eddie turns up at the counter, whistling through his teeth. “Sweet looking flyers, how'd you swing those?”
“I designed them. I've got a degree in design and marketing, if you didn't know,” you sniff, rearranging the stationary on the counter to avoid his eyes.
“Maybe you could help me design some for my band. These look pretty metal.” He says, picking one up and looking at it closely.
“Maybe.”
Eddie leans in close, so close you feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.
“If you're still up for our arrangement, I'm free tonight.”
Heat immediately flushes your face. Ignoring him entirely, you write your address and a time on a notepad, and thrust the paper into his hands.
“Covert, I like it. See you then princess.”
By the time 9pm rolls around you're a jittery mass of nerves, having changed clothes no less than four times, tidied your apartment, changed the bedsheets and paced so much you're surprised there's not a groove in the floorboards.
In the end you'd decided on a baggy band t-shirt and your sleep shorts. It was a rational calculation to make Eddie think you're just wearing what you usually would at home and therefore show you're not nervous. I mean, you are wearing what you'd usually wear at home. He didn't need to know about how long it took you to reach that decision.
The sound of the intercom buzzing sends your pulse into overdrive. Pressing the button, you let out a strangled “Hello?”
“Hey princess.”
“Come on up.”
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…
A soft knock at the door and you count to five, trying to remember how to breathe. When you open the door, you're stunned. He's leaning on the doorframe in a fucking button up shirt. It's black, and clings to him deliciously. His hair looks a little damp, loose around his shoulders, and his aftershave is making you feel dizzy.
“Oh, you didn't need- I mean-” you point at his shirt, and he looks down and chuckles.
“Just came from band practice. Took a shower, and this was clean,” he shrugs and shoulders into your apartment. “Nice place. Where's all your stuff?”
You look around at your sparse apartment. Everything in order, down to the fresh flowers on your tiny dining table.
“This is all my stuff,” you say, confused, “I don't like clutter.”
He chuckles, walking over to you. “No wonder I annoy you. I am clutter.”
He's close now, close enough so that you have to look up to see his face. His rough fingers ghost your arm, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin.
“Nice seeing you in something casual. L7, right?” He asks, pointing at the t-shirt.
“Yeah, you know who they are?”
“I'm surprised you do. Thought you'd be a Mariah Carey kinda girl.”
You scrunch your face in distaste. “No, not at all. You don't know everything about me.”
He leans in, warm breath a whisper in your ear. “I know some things about you.”
Squirming hotly, you lead him to your room before you lose your nerve.
“So, the princess's bedchamber. It's nice,” he remarks, flopping down on the bed as if it were his own.
“Take your boots off,” you snip, folding your arms.
“Ah, there she is.” He smiles, but does as instructed. Once more he's laying back into your scattered pillows looking perfectly at ease. You, on the other hand, stand there, spine a vertical rod as you stare back at him.
“Come on then, sit down.”
Nervously you sit at the foot of the bed with your legs crossed.
“Now princess, what do you do when you touch yourself?”
Blushing furiously, you stammer out, “what, do you expect me to like, show you?”
He chuckles, diffusing some of the tension. “As much as I'd like that, I don't think you're ready for that kinda shit. Just tell me, what's your thought process?”
Staring at him for a little too long, you open your mouth and close it again. He rolls his eyes.
“Look, if you want me to help I'll help, but you gotta give me something here.” He looks as if he's about to get up and leave; your arm shoots out on its own accord, grabbing his leg to stop him.
“Sorry, sorry. I just, I've never spoken about this kinda stuff. I don't know about any process, I just… reach down and fiddle around?” You blush even more.
“So you don't like, watch anything? Or read anything?” He looks a little amused.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Porn, sweetheart.”
It's so blunt that you jump a little. “Oh no, I've never, oh no no.”
“Christ,” he whispers, “right, you can like, set the mood. Look at something to turn you on? It'd probably help you feel less awkward.”
“Oh. Right.”
“And do you ever just like, slouch? I feel like I'm back at school looking at ya.”
“Huh?”
“Just, come here.” He pats the little space between his spread legs and you hesitate for a second before you crawl over to him.
“How do you want me to sit, like cross legged or-”
He grabs your hips and spins you, forcing your back into his crotch.
“Stop trying to control every little thing,” he says in a hard tone, one you're too embarrassed to admit makes your insides tingle. Softer, he continues. “Look, if you're ever gonna get there you need to relax, stop trying to control it, and stop overthinking.”
“Great, all of the things I'm shit at.”
His laugh is loud, it vibrates into your spine. “I'll help you, OK? You trust me?”
“In a very limited sense of the word, yeah.”
“Lemme rephrase. You still OK to do this?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Just relax.”
You're not sure what you are expecting, but it certainly isn't his hands winding into your hair, fingertips rubbing softly at your scalp. It shoots tingles down your spine, your entire head feeling fuzzy and warm.
You stifle a whimper, biting your lip. His fingers stop.
“If you want to make noises, you can. Tells me I'm doing a good job. That goes for everything else too, alright?”
“Alright.” You whisper.
“You comfortable?”
“Yeah it's just- well-”
“Tell me.”
“I think it's your shirt buttons, they're digging into my back a bit,” you admit, feeling the sharp points down your spine.
“Easily fixed.” He taps your arm and you lean forward. Some rustling, and he throws his shirt to the foot of your bed.
“Now just chill sweetheart.”
His fingers begin rubbing at you again, thumbs sinking low to pop at the bubbles in your neck.
“Fuck, that's really nice.”
He hums appreciatively, working his hands lower and dropping them to your shoulders. The massaging continues, and you feel yourself melting, your body moulding into his. Your legs, once ramrod straight, have bent a little and parted of their own accord, the muscles loosening. Even your breathing has slowed.
“That's better, atta girl,” he says and you whine at the words, a little pathetic mewling sound that tumbles past your lips.
“Oh, you like that, don't you?” The smile is evident in his voice, a smug tone smeared liberally across each word.
“You, you're so-” you begin, but his hand drags across the front of your shirt, just over the tops of your breasts.
“I'm so what?” He whispers in your ear.
“So, so arrogant,” you huff. He laughs, a husky chuckle, and dances the tips of his fingers over your clothed nipple. Gasping, you grasp at his thighs either side of you.
“Yeah? What else am I?” He says, nibbling at your earlobe.
“You- you're cocky, and- and self assured- Oh God!”
Rudely interrupted by him tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, you swear, back arching off of him for a moment.
“You know,” he says in a gravelly tone directly in your ear, “those are pretty much the same thing.”
“You drive me crazy,” you huff, squirming a little against him as his hands explore your chest over your shirt.
“Good crazy or bad crazy?” He smiles, then bites softly at your neck.
“I- I haven't decided yet.”
“Good. I can say the same about you,” he admits, his hands trailing lower, pulling your shirt up so he can stroke at your bare sides. The touch of fingertips on your skin sends a river of sensations through you that run deep into your core.
“Are you going to- what are you doing, exactly?” You breathe, starting to move against him.
“I'm warming you up sweetheart. Why, don't you like it?”
Genuinely curious, you try to ask what you want to know without using the words.
“N- no, I do. Do you have to, erm, get warmed up? When you, you know.”
He lets out a little huff of a laugh. “Guys are a little less… complicated, than girls. For the most part.”
“Oh. OK, so you can just. I mean, you just, get excited?” Your breathing becomes more ragged when the tip of his thumb grazes the underside of your breast.
“Sweetheart, I got hard seeing you in these little shorts.” Running a finger down your stomach, he lightly pings the elastic of your sleep shorts as if to accentuate his point.
“Really?”
There's no denying it when he moves his hips up and you feel his solid bulge press into the small of your back.
“Really. Can I take this off?” He asks, twisting the hem of your shirt in one hand.
“Yeah.” It's a whisper. You're a little scared of being bare chested, but not having to see his face helps. Plus, he's wound you up so much you're on the verge of begging for his touches, pleading for more.
He guides your top up, up, up, revealing you slowly. Coaxing it over your head, you move your arms up so he can remove it. It ends up in a heap on top of his shirt. One tattooed arm wraps around your waist, pulling you toward him more, his hardness pushing against your ass.
His breathing is unsteady as he grinds his hips, pushing onto you further. Gasping, your fingers are vices, firmly attached to his thighs in a vain attempt to anchor you.
Suddenly his hand is winding into your hair, tugging your head aside so he can run a fat tongue across your neck. You shudder at the sensation, feeling the hard ball of his tongue piercing against your throat When he takes his pillowy lips and sucks at the spot between your neck and shoulder a moan slips out. Grunting in approval, his hands are on your bare tits, fingers pinching at your hardened nipples.
“Holy hell!”
He laughs, running rough fingers down your body, circling your new ink, then dipping down past your waistband. Those tattooed fingers barely brush your pubic hair, teasing you, then glide back up to your stomach.
“Eddie, please.”
Your voice is small, not your own. Eddie groans low in your ear, rubbing his length into the fat of your ass.
“Fuck, princess, I like you saying my name like that. You want me to touch you right here?” he says, pressing down hard over your clothed clit.
The sheer relief of having his touch where you need it gets you close to tears; a gulping shudder of a sob rips from deep in your chest.
“See, you're not broken, sweetheart. Can I take these off?”
Shaking, you hook your fingers into your sleep shorts and pull them down your legs, air hitting your most intimate area. Eddie huffs in your ear, his inked hands rubbing up the insides of your thighs.
“You're so fuckin’ sexy.”
Before you can retort, his fingers dip down to your entrance, gathering your slick. You can hear how wet you are, but it's not in you to think about it. You can't think, only feel.
When his fingers run up and start rubbing circles into your clit, your response is visceral. Bucking up, you chase the feeling, searching for even more.
“I'm gonna slip a finger in, alright princess?”
You nod, waiting for the pain, wincing before it even starts.
“It's OK, you're fine, you gotta relax baby.” He strokes your stomach with his free hand, pressing kisses to your temple.
The tip of his finger breaches you, and the pain doesn't come. Your soaking wet cunt invites him in, warm and pulsing with arousal. He slips it into the hilt, his palm pressing into your clit, and your moan is long and loud. It's never felt like this. Never has it stoked a fire in your gut, bubbled your insides like pop rocks and Coke, turned you into a writhing mess.
He fucks his finger into you, slipping a second in to join the first, and you move your hips, chasing the building tightness in your belly. Each thrust of his hand has you bucking, and in turn rubbing against his member trapped within its denim prison.
“That's it, good fuckin’ girl.” His voice is strained, as if he's trying hard not to lose control.
“Eddie, oh fuck, f-feels so- good, yes, please, please-”
You're not sure what you're begging for, and Eddie doesn't seem to be in any state to ask, but it doesn't matter. His fingers fuck into you in earnest, stroking hard against some spot inside that has you babbling and quivering around him.
“God, you're so tight, this little cunts gonna drive me crazy. So wet and perfect, Jesus Christ.”
The feeling seems too much and not enough, and it grows higher and higher, flooding your body with a pleasure so intense you're sure you black out. The only thing you're aware of is your voice screaming out his name as your body thrusts wildly into his grip. Finally, it dissipates, your body melting against his form, sweating and spent.
You take a breath, and another, trying to gather your wits enough to speak. Eddie speaks first.
“So sweetheart, everything you dreamed it would be?” He asks as he strokes your hair.
“Better. Fuck, Eddie. Thank you.”
“Anytime. Seriously. Any. Time. Day, night, weekends, holidays-”
You giggle, slapping his thigh, and sit up, grabbing your discarded shirt to cover up.
“Sorry, that was probably a little er, frustrating for you.” You say as you glance at his bare torso, drinking in the sight with your eyes for the first time. He's lean, but ripped, a faint sheen of sweating making his tattoos glisten in the low light.
“What do you mean sweetheart?”
“Well, doing that, not getting anything in return...”
He chuckles lightly, “Oh I wouldn't say that,” he glances down, gesturing to his jeans, “full disclosure, I came in my pants.”
“Really?” your eyes widen, staring at him with disbelief.
“I ain't lying. Wanna check?” He waggles his eyebrows at you, making you laugh again.
“You seem better already. Right, I better go.”
Shoulders deflating, you pout, “I suppose you better.”
“Hey don't look at me like that. I hoped that helped. Sleep tight, drink some water. I'll see you tomorrow princess.”
And just like that, he leaves. Of course he leaves, it was just a deal you struck, nothing more. A favour. you wipe stray tears from your eyes and try not to focus on the sound of the front door shutting.
As you collapse on the bed, exhausted, you think about his hands, his words. There's something screaming inside, telling you you're playing with fire, but as you drift off you can't find it in you to mind.
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The Secret Spot
5.1k words
Golfrry, quick escalation, shy Harry into vocal Harry, oral m recieving, p in v, quickie situation.
I didn’t edit this at all, just written in a whim lol.
“Cassie! You’ve been assigned to a party today!” Martin called out as he walked through the locker room handing everyone their assignment slips. I brushed my hair up into a ponytail high on my head so I could slip my visor on.
“Is it a big one?” I said, pulling out my white apron and tying it around my waist, slipping in my small order pad and favorite green pen with the small golf ball topper. It was always a conversation started with the club members; and conversations always led to good tips.
“It's a small three person party, I heard it's a big name, haven’t confirmed who yet - you'll have to pick up your slip at the front desk. It's a bit hush hush.” He shrugged and I nodded, making sure my shoes were tied properly as my friend Kyle came up to me.
“Hush hush, huh? I hope for your sake he’s hot,” He smirked, pushing all his weight onto his left hip. Whoever thought it was a good idea to let Kyle interact with the older men at the golf club had no idea how many sugar daddies he would end up by his second week on the job.
“Kyle, sweetie, I don’t need them to be good looking to get good tips, I just need them to have heavy pockets,” I said standing up straight and slamming my locker shut. Pushing him out of the way gently with my shoulder I made my way out of the room heading out to the front desk.
“Be a good whore!” I heard him call out, making me shake my head and laugh. The lunch time crowd was beginning to flow in quickly; lunch time was the prime time to have a shift, people hardly ever wanted to let go of these shifts for that reason. Small waves were thrown my way from the usual crowd, I made sure to make note of my usuals, sending them extra greetings especially since I wouldn’t be assisting them today. As I approached the front desk, Cedric, the club manager spotted me, perking up instantly.
“Well if it isn’t my favorite little waitress,” he smiled, eyes back on the computer screen in front of him.
“Well if it isn’t my favorite little boss. I heard I have a part assigned today?” Leaning on the front desk, I reached over the counter, grabbing a mint packaged in the signature green of the Ocean Wells Country Club, earning me a soft smack on the hand. I pulled the mint to my chest, quickly opening it and popping it in my mouth, Cedric rolling his eyes.
“Yes actually, and I’m sure you will thank me for it. I had to pick wisely and my soul told me you would be the only one to not act like a crazed fan girl when I told you who you would be serving today,” I watched as the small slip printer started printing out our usual assignment slips, he quickly ripped it off the machine and slid it across the front desk to me.
Raising an eyebrow, I slowly picked up the slip and looked it over, my eyes widening at the sight of the names on the slip.
Niall Horan
Harry Styles
Mitch Rowland
I looked up at him, jaw slightly dropped, “You’re fucking joking right?”
“Nope, not a joke at all. As a matter of fact, they are walking in at this very second,” he smiled, pointing his chin in the direction of the front door. My body seemed to turn quicker than my head, but once it followed, my eyes were instantly drawn to Harry. He was wearing a navy sweater over a slightly brighter blue dress shirt, matching slacks and brown golf shoes. He has recently cut his hair, a frenzy in the media, but it had grown out to perfection, short on the sides, a swoop of curls wanting to remake their appearance on the front. His face was perfectly layered with growing facial hair, it made him look so mature and well cultured. He looked like money, and well, he was. It wasn’t until they were almost in front of me that I noticed the three of them had made their way to the front desk - and that I had been staring like a gawky girl in love.
I quickly cleared my throat and turned to face Cedric who chuckled a bit as I made myself busy organizing the business cards on the desk, chewing on the mint in my mouth. I felt their presence next to me soon after, Niall standing the closest to me, Harry doing most of the speaking for the party.
“Hello, we had reservations under Styles?” He said kindly, his voice so soft spoken and kind. I didn’t expect anything less if I was being honest.
“Yes, Mr. Styles, Mr. Horan and Mr. Rowland, we are all ready for you. You have been assigned to start on the left, two golf carts have been assigned, one for you and one for your caddies. Your personal waitress, Cassie here, will also have her own cart to bring drinks, cigars, food and any other desired items here at the club,” Cedric spoke, his hand gesturing over to me, causing all three men to turn their eyes to me. Each smiled, making eye contact, but only Harry’s lingered just a moment longer than the rest.
“Nice to meet you all, I’m here for whatever you may need, even making sure that the other isn't cheating,” I smirked, making them chuckle a bit.
“She's a club favorite, you’ll enjoy her ever present company,” Cedric said in a slightly condescending tone.
“I’m sure her services will be appreciated,” Niall said, clearly noticing Cedric's tone.
“Very well then, here are your keys, golf clubs should already be loaded, enjoy your time here at Ocean Wells Country Club.”
I nodded at Cedric, turning to the front door and holding my arm out to let the gentleman know they could carry on ahead of me before I began walking slightly behind them. I noticed Harry’s pace slow a bit more than the others as we made our way over, his attention turning to me for a moment, clearing his throat.
“Would you mind starting us off with some whiskeys, over ice please. We will need lunch reservations at around two, we should be finished with our game by then,” he said, unable to make eye contact fully.
“Might I suggest 2:15 to make room for any delays and travel time back to the cafe?” I said politely, his eyes shifting to meet mind more predominantly. They were a beautiful shade of green, tricking the eyes to think they were blue, crystal clear in certain lights - glimmers of aquamarine.
“You know the place better than I, 2:15 is fine,” he smiled small my head nodding, for some reason my cheeks found themself washed over with a flush of pink.
We exited out into the warm summer sun, a sigh instantly leaving me, eyes closed as my face moved to look up into the sun, taking in its heat. Summertime was my favorite time of the year, it’s when I thrived most, when I felt most alive. Bringing my face down, I opened my eyes to find Harry already looking at me, quickly looking away when he noticed my eye contact.
We all stepped into our individual golf carts, they drove off to their first hole as I drove to the cafe to pick up their first round of drinks. I placed the order, waiting until they were brought out, throwing in some complimentary pretzels and beer cheese to start them off right. I carefully loaded everything into the cart, driving my way over to where they were. By the time I had made my way over, they were on the second hole, Niall currently lining up his shot before swinging effortlessly, the ball landing right next to the hole but not quite making it in.
I watched as he handed Harry a twenty dollar bill, Mitch and Harry laughing at how upset Niall looked. I pulled up behind their carts, Harry’s attention quickly moving over to me. He walked over as Mitch chose his golf club for his turn, reaching for the tray of drinks as I moved out of the cart.
“Oh you don’t have to do that, I got it,” I smiled, both our grips steady in the tray.
“Truly, I got it,” he smiled, his hand brushing my hand away. I felt my breath get caught in my throat as I swallowed, turning back to grab the tray with the pretzels and cheese.
I faced him, smiling shyly, “I figured you all would do well with some post game fuel? No one has ever hated our pretzel and beer cheese. It’s a club favorite,” I smiled, his eyes took in the food as Niall and Mitch made their way over to us.
“What’s all this?” Niall smiled, Harry’s eyes staying on me as he spoke.
“Cassie brought us a club favorite apparently,” he finally broke his eye contact, handing a drink to each of the boys as I nodded.
“I could drink the beer cheese if it wasn’t frowned upon,” I shrugged as Mitch reached over, ripping off a piece and dipping it in the cheese. He took a bite, eyebrows raising, nodding as he pointed to the tray with the remaining piece in his hand.
“Holy shit, let the stuck up pricks stare at us cause I’ll down it with you in a second,” he exclaimed making the rest of us laugh.
Niall and Harry took a piece each, copying Mitch in every single aspect, quickly praising me for my choice in game starting fuel. For the next few moments they stood around me, eating and drinking to their satisfaction before agreeing to move onto the next hole before anyone else began the same course, though I of course knew that wouldn’t happen. They were elite guests, no one would be assigned to this side of the club until two hours in so they would take all the time they wanted.
I loaded the empty glasses and trays into the back of my golf cart, hearing Harry yell out as my eyes caught Niall and Mitch driving off without him, middle fingers in clear sight, “Fuckers!”
Covering my mouth, I bit back my chuckle, shaking my head, “Need a ride?” I called out, his body shifting to face me, an eye roll following.
“I swear they know how to act proper,” he shook his head, shy dimples imprinting on his cheeks.
“Proper isn’t exactly my style, so, eh,” I chuckled, getting in my cart and patting the seat next to me. He walked over, getting in, hands wiping down his thighs. I took in his actions, my eyes taking in his face with a soft smile, before facing forward and starting up the cart.
“So how long have you been doing this for?” He asked softly, facing forward.
“Umm? Three years? Trying to make enough money to pay for college. The goal is to finally start this coming spring, but we shall see,” I shrugged, glancing over at him. He turned to me for a moment before we both looked forward again.
“What are you wanting to study?” He continued the conversation, his voice a bit stronger than before, almost as if he was slowly getting more comfortable.
“Social work, work with youth in the foster system. I want to be able to help people in a way I wished someone helped me when I was in foster homes,” I swallowed, my grip tightening slightly on the wheel as I drove. I could see Niall and Mitch in the close distance.
“That sounds like a beautiful full circle moment?” He said, questioning if that’s what it really was to me.
“Uh…sort of? I guess. I mean, you’re not the first person to tell me that, but I’m not exactly sure if I see it in that light. Just because, I don’t know if it’ll give me the healing most people think it will,” I said as I parked behind the other carts. We both turned to face each other and he nodded slightly.
“Mm, that’s understood. Your trauma isn’t healed just because you helped others avoid the same,” he said softly, a smile pushing into my left cheek.
“Exactly,” I breathed out, his lips rolling into his mouth. I couldn’t help but linger there, linger on the plumpness, the perfect rosey pink, the perfect Cupid’s bow. I shifted in my seat, “Um, shall I get you all some iced tea? Or water? Second round?”
He cleared his throat, moving to exit the cart, “Um, water and another round please, thank you.”
I watched as he moved towards his friends without another word and I drove back to the cafe to pick up their next round.
HARRY'S POV
I walked towards Niall and Mitch, willing myself to not turn back towards Cassie. Since laying my eyes on her upon arrival, something struck my heart in a way I hadn’t been struck in a while. She radiated electricity, not warmth, not light, electricity. She seemed to shock my entire system by just standing there. It didn’t help that I was aware it wasn’t just my eyes lingering for too long - hers on my lips just now shocking my soul.
Running my fingers through my hair, I approached Niall and Mitch, Niall’s hand slapping Mitch’s chest, “Told you!”
“Told him what?” I said, raising an eyebrow, walking over to my caddy and picking out my next club.
“You’re already smitten, been smitten since we walked in,” Niall said, my eyes narrowing in his direction.
“What the fuck are you going on about? I’m just being polite, she’s treating us well,” I said, picking my club and walking over to prep my swing.
“Full of shit, you both are eye fucking each other any moment you get!” Niall said, my eyes rolling and Mitch just laughed.
“He kinda has a point,” he said, standing next to Niall, arms crossed in front of his body.
“You both are idiots,” I said, turning back to the ball, pulling back and taking my first swing. It was such a lousy swing, the back of my hand meeting my forehead. They were wrong, it was obvious they weren’t, but I didn’t want this to be just another damn hook up situation. She seemed like a good person who didn’t deserve that, even if she didn’t mind it.
“That swing shows me that we aren’t,” Mitch teased, and I shook my head.
“Look, she’s beautiful, there is no damn denying that, but I’m not letting it get to my head, alright? Let’s just play the damn game.” I pushed past them, switching clubs so we could just continue playing.
We finished up the hole and moved onto the next when Cassie finally joined us again. She brought over our drinks and water, making conversation with Niall. I tried to avoid her this time around, watching her from a distance. At least this way I could take her in, and not deal with the teasing from my mates.
She was so animated when she talked, often twirling her long brown hair as she spoke, the white uniform, trimmed with green making her tan skin pop against it. She smelled like an apricot, something I noticed on the drive to the previous hole with her. Sweet, fresh, something I would gladly bite into. I shook the thought from my head, bringing my hands behind my head, linking my fingers together. I closed my eyes, inhaling the summer dry air, it was my favorite season to bask in, just taking in the sun, letting it warm my skin.
“Seems like they left you again,” I heard Cassie’s voice next to me, my left eye opening to peek over at her.
“I feel like it’s going to be a thing for the rest of the game,” I let my arms drop down next to me, a small giggle coming from her.
“Well, it’s okay, you have the best golf cart in the entire club to save you,” she winked playfully.
“Thank goodness for that,” I smirked, as she shrugged, walking backwards to the cart before turning around completely. I followed like a lost puppy behind her, watching her full hips swing from side to side as she walked away from me. I licked my lips, biting down on my lower lip, walking around the cart as I reached it, getting in.
“So, are you enjoying your break from work?” She asked, her eyes shifting towards me, and I let mine meet hers instantly.
“Yeah actually, nice to not have to be moving constantly unless it is my choice to do so. I like that I can just settle for a bit,” I said, her eyes shifting down to my hand then back in front of her.
“I like settling. Just knowing somewhere is home. Moving around so much when I was younger, it made me crave stability, you know?” She said, and I nodded.
“It’s like, rooting your feet somewhere long enough to actually make it feel like it’s your home,” I responded, bringing a big smile to her face.
“Exactly, exactly that,” she giggled a bit.
We drove for a bit longer, trying to find the boys at the next hole but they were nowhere to be seen. She came to a complete stop, pulling out her phone, “Maybe I went the wrong way? But I doubt it, I know these pathways like the back of my hand.”
I rolled my eyes, tossing my head back knowing exactly what they were doing, “I’m sure it’s not you. I have a feeling those assholes are long gone right now.”
“Oh..,um, I can head back if you want? You don’t have your clubs so…” she suggested, her face glancing over her shoulder then back at me.
Staying quiet for a moment, I took in the situation, analyzing the possibilities and that one that stood out the clearest was - I didn’t want to leave her just yet. I brought my hand to my lower lip, pinching it softly as I turned to face her, “You know this place like that back of your hand right?”
“Basically.”
“You have a place you like to hide out, that no one knows about?” I said, her eyes narrowing a bit, before a slightly devilish smile appeared on her face.
“I do actually,” she said, putting the cart into drive without another word.
“Going to show me?” I said, and she nodded.
“An adventure on company time? Why not.” She giggled, making me laugh with her.
We drove for a good five minutes, the golf cart cutting through different courses, avoiding people’s games and paths. We reached what seemed to be a back corner, a giant tree settling into the corner. It’s long thick trunks and branches seemed to bend, creating perfect nooks to rest in the shadow away from the sun. She park just to the side of it, turning off the cart, holding her hands out.
“Voila!! My secret spot,” she smiled, getting off and walking over to the tree. I watched her climb on top of it, effortlessly finding her perfect spot, settling into the curve that seemed shaped perfectly for her.
“How many people actually know about this?” I said, walking over, trying to pick the perfect place for me to climb up and settle.
“Just my friend Kenny, but he wouldn’t know how to actually get here. Just knows it exist….so like please don’t kill me or anything cause then I’ll never be found.” She pointed at me, making me laugh as I found my spot directly in front of her, our legs extending out next to each other.
“I won’t, I promise, I wouldn't know how to get back without you,” I said, sitting up for a moment to slip on my sweater before settling back. Unbuttoning the sleeves on my dress shirt, I rolled them up to my elbows, finally relaxing.
“Did the tattoos have stories?” Cassie said.
“Some. Others were just crazy ideas, things I thought would fit the bare spaces. A couple friends have chosen,” I smiled over at her.
“So if I said to get a turtle near your palm tree you would do it?” She asked, my head tilting slightly knowing my palm tree wasn’t currently exposed.
“And how do you know about that?” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, both eyebrows raised at her. I watched her eyes widen, reds and pinks covering her sweet cheeks.
“Oh….I just…um, Niall he uh —…”
Bursting into laughter, I cut her off, shaking my head, “Cassie, I’m aware some people know more about me than I may know, I’m just twisting your arm.”
I kicked her legs softly with my foot, her eyes narrowing and returning the same gesture. For the next moments, we just sat in silence, taking in the small noises of the golf course, the bits of wind on the tree leaves. Every now and then we would ask one another questions about our personal life. I had no problem opening up to her and her with me, letting her tell me about the things that seemed to just magically pop into her mind.
As we sat, our bodies also seemed to scoot further down, feet and legs sharing soft touch against one another, knees rubbing gently against her thigh, her fingers also moving to dance around my calf. I let my own do the same, small chills forming on her bare legs. We stayed this way until she let me know we needed to head back soon, the time we were meant to be out on the course was almost over, and she would have to finish the rest of her shift.
I nodded in agreement as we both moved to begin our climb down. I made my way first, extending my arms out towards her to help her lower herself the rest of the way down, her perfect self landing perfectly in front of me. Her eyes locked on mine, tongue licking over her lips, breath heavy from our proximity.
“How much longer did you say we have?” I said softly, my hand moving to push her hair behind her ear.
“I didn’t specify,” she said, her voice shaky, my head nodding as I bravely closed the distance between us and kissed her. It’s what I wanted, and though her movements were hesitant at first, her eagerness in kissing me back let me know she wanted it too.
I wrapped my hand around the nape of her neck, gripping at it, pushing her closer to me, her mouth opening up and letting my tongue meet hers. I ran it across the roof of her mouth, pulling away as my teeth pulled her lower lip with them. She shuddered softly, a soft moan escaping her pretty pink lips.
“And to think I thought you were shy,” she whispered, hands trailing down to my hips, fingers tapping softly against them.
“Mmm, being shy doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want, and what excites me,” I quipped back, earning me a small raised brow.
“And what do you want?” She pushed up on her toes, kissing nose as her hands began pulling my dress shirt out of my pants.
I inhaled sharply through my nose, fire growing in my stomach, blood beginning to rush to my prick, “Fuck sake, you really wanna know?”
She nodded, undoing my belt buckle and pants, working the zipper down as her hand slipped into the band of my brief without question.
“You. You on top of me in that golf cart. Fucking me until you can’t anymore,” I groaned as her hand wrapped around my length, freeing me from the restriction of my clothes, pumping up and down my length.
“Mmm, get in the cart, Harry,” she said, releasing her hold on me, pushing me back. I watched as she began stripping free of her clothes, and I did the same as we walked over to the cart, sliding into the back seat. She climbed into the space next to me, bending her body over to take me in her hand, pumping up and down my shift before slipping me in her mouth. Her tongue rounded around my tip, teasing along my slit making my abs contort, my legs shooting up slightly, body tensing at the feeling.
She chuckled, the vibrations adding to an additional sensation around my cock, as she pushed her mouth further down me, bobbing up and down until she took me completely, nose meeting my happy trail. I felt her swallow me further down her throat, my hand instinctively wrapping around her ponytail, holding her there as my hips bucked forward.
She pushed against my hold, pop off me with a gasp of air, her spit covering my cock, her hand replacing where her mouth was as she wiped her mouth with the other. She moved closer to me, kissing me deeply, my hand curling around her jaw, not able to get enough of her, of her taste.
Of her sweet apricot scent.
My hand moved down to her hip, gripping at it and directing her over my body, her legs straddling my hips, her hands both moving to my shoulders. I pushed her wet center onto my shaft, guiding her hips up and down it, her slick and spit creating enough lubrication to guide her movements further.
“Oh fuck,” she gasped, her hips rocking back and forth on me, her thighs clenching as she did, “Mm, I need you.”
She moaned, her eyes moving to mine, pants falling from her lips as her movements grew incredibly sloppy, her face was so flushed, nails digging into my shoulders.
“Yeah? Where do you need me? Huh? Tell me where,” I pressed into her lips, her moans growing more frequent, lips pressing an open kiss into my chin as I felt her come on me, arousal coating my cock thickly.
Her body trembled, her teeth biting at my chin, my hand moving up to her face, gripping under her jawline tightly, “Hmm, you need more than that?”
She nodded, “Please.” She basically begged.
“Mm? What more do you want, huh? Tell me Cassie,” I groaned at the thought of her saying she needed me inside her, at what that would feel like.
“Fill me up, please. God, Harry, please,” she breathed, pushing body up, gripping at my cock, bringing it up to meet her wet cunt, rubbing the tip against it before slipping herself down on me. It was a slow moment of taking me inch by inch, each moment further down met by the tight squeeze of her walls. She finally took the last bit of me in, each of us groaning out in pure ecstasy, before she began to lift her hips again, bouncing up and down on me effortlessly. Her perfectly round tits were in front of me, bouncy with her, begging to be in my mouth, my hands wrapping around them and bringing them to my lips. My tongue flicked at her nipples, pulling at them between my teeth, her moans escalating just like her pace on my cock.
“Fuck you do that so good, that wet cunt is so good,” I groaned into her tits, biting at the plump fleshy skin, kneading it with my hands. I slipped on arm around her waist, pumping my hard cock up into her, matching her pace.
“Oh, yes, Harry, just like that. Fuck just like that….god,” she moaned, her hands pulling my face to hers, kissing me deeply, our tongue sloppily running against each others. I slipped my fingers between us, rubbing her clit as I continued to pump in and out of her, her movements hardly existent, her legs trembling, her head knocked back in pleasure.
I could feel her tight cunt fluttering around me, pulling me deeper into it, her arousal already soaking down my thighs and hers. I wanted to taste every bit of it, I wanted it to coat me completely, make me filthy in it.
“You wanna come for me, Cassie? Come all over my hard cock, sweet girl? Hmm? Cock so hard for you, wants to fill you up. Can I do that? Can I fill up that wet cunt? Watch you squeeze me out after? Yeah?” I whispered into her neck, kissing along it up to her ear.
“Oh yes, Harry, fu-fuck, yes, yes, fill me up, oh…Ha-Harry I’m going to…I’m..” she gasped, her walls clenching around me, her hips pushing forward, legs clenching around me tighter, “Oh fuck, yes.”
She breathed out in relief, a moan so damn sexy I could have came at the very sound of it. I kept bucking my hips up into her, letting her ride out her high on my hard cock, taking in the way her body and face reacted to the feeling, only turning me on more. Both my hands gripped at her hips, fucking into her harder and quicker until I came, my hips bucking up and holding place their, shooting warm ropes into her fluttering walls.
We both came down from out high, her face nuzzled into my neck, my hips final relaxing and lowering back down, bring her carefully with me.
“Cassie baby, do something for me?” I whispered, a tired nod coming from her. She carefully sat up, eyes locking with mine.
“Pull off me sweet girl, squeeze out my come for me, let me see it drip out of you? Yeah?” I breathed out and she nodded, lazily doing as I instructed. She pulled off of me, both of us groaning. My eyes locked into her sweet cunt, watching her squeeze my come out of her, “Fuck, yes.”
She smirked tiredly, reaching down and covering her fingers in it, bringing it to her lips, licking them clean slowly. I met the other side of them, helping her, until she pulled them away so we were sharing the mix of our arousals on our lips.
Pulling away, she sighed, pushing her forehead on mine, “Mmm, I’ve never christened my secret spot before. Must be my lucky day.”
I chuckled, pressing one more kiss onto her lips, “We can do it again tomorrow. I have time. Find other places in this club to christen.”
“Mm? Sounds like a challenge.”
“I never liked when things came easy anyways.”
#harry styles#fanfic#harry styles fanfic rec#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles au#harry styles ff#harry styles blurb#harry styles x original character#boxer x harry styles#golfrry#golf!harry styles#rich!harry styles#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fan fics#harry smut#harry styles x reader
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can you write something about the reader having a bad and trevor or jack making them feel better
Here with me
Navigation Oneshots
Trevor Zegras x reader
A/n: I went with Trevor, I hope you enjoy!🤍
Warnings: like two bad words, pet name (baby, babe)
Word count: 2.1k
Waking up today you thought it would be a good. You were able to FaceTime Trevor before he left for practice, got to work on time, and they supplied you guys with breakfast.
Then the day started to go down, someone spilt their coffee on you and tried to blame you for it. With no change of clothes and no time to go home until lunch you walked around wet and smelling of coffee.
Then when you were on lunch you got a flat tire, so you had to pull over on the side of the road to change it. Dirtying your clothes even more and having random people drive up to asking you if you were okay was quite embarrassing.
You barely made it home and back to work on time. Hoping that the day will pick up and nothing else happens.
Only for the printer to jam up on you before your meeting, you’re friend texting you canceling your plans for tonight, your know it all coworker trying to tell you that you’re doing your job wrong, and it started to pouring rain on your way out.
So you once again you are in wet clothes but more upset than you were before. The only good thing left about today is that you don’t have any classes or homework to worry about.
When you got home you decided to take a quick shower, texting Trevor asking him if it’s okay that you come over.
Getting out you toss on some some of his clothes that he left over. You grab your phone to see that he gave you the go ahead to come over.
~
You knock on his front door for what feels like the millionth time, neither him or Jamie have come to the door. You jiggle the door knob to find out that the door is locked.
You groan letting your head hit the door, of course this would happen.
You call his phone to no avail, so you try Jamie.
He picks up, “Hello?”
“Jamie, hey.” You reply, “Are you and Trevor not home?”
“I’m not.” He states, “But Trevor is… or I thought he was.”
You sigh, “He’s not answering the door or his phone.”
You can hear him stifle a laugh, “So, you’re locked out?”
You run a hand through your hair, “Yeah.”
“Okay, so, by the door there’s a rock, if you flip it over the bottom should slide off and the key should be inside.” He informs
You pick up the rock, “You’re a lifesaver, dryer sheet.”
He chuckles, “Yeah whatever, dipshit.”
You open the door, “Okay I’m in, thank you.”
“No problem.” He says, “And keep the key, I’ll make another one.”
“For real?” You ask
“Yeah, now go make sure Trevor’s not dead.” He tells you, “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Bye, Jamie.” You say hanging up the phone.
You close the door behind you and make your way to Trevor’s room. As you get closer you can hear Taylor swift playing along with the faint sound of water and him singing along.
Opening his bedroom door you take off your shoes and lay on his bed, listening to him sing ‘Our Song’.
Even though he’s completely off key it brings a smile to your face. Pulling out your phone you record him singing the rest of the song, it could come in handy for another bad day or even a birthday post.
When he finished the song you decided to mindlessly scrolling through tiktok. You did that for fifteen minutes before you finally hear the water turn off and the music switch from Taylor to Mac Miller.
The bathroom door swings open and out walks Trevor, dripping wet with a towel around his waist.
He jumps at the sight of you on his bed, not expecting you to be there, “Jesus, Baby, when did you get here?”
“I don’t know, like, fifteen? Twenty? Minutes ago.” You answer struggling to keep your eyes on his.
He turns off the music, “So, you- you heard all of that?”
“Yeah, it almost felt like I was at one of her concerts.” You tease
He turns away from you, clearly embarrassed, and goes to grab some clothes.
He goes back to the bathroom with his clothes in hand, “So, how was your day?”
You groan, “ugh, it sucked.”
He quickly comes back out in joggers and a tshirt, “Awe baby I’m sorry.”
He leans over the bed places a soft kiss on your forehead, “Do you want to talk about it?”
You shake your head, “No, not really.”
He hums in response, “Here, scoot over.”
You move over allowing him to lay down next to you, you can feel the warmth from the shower radiate off of him.
He pulls you over to him and starts to rub your back, “Well if it makes you feel better, I’m glad you’re here, I missed you.”
“If you missed me why’d you lock the front door?” You ask, “Are you afraid of the boogie man or something?”
He shakes his head and smiles, “What? No! I’d lay out the boogie man and you know it.”
You let out a amused laugh, “Oh, I’m sure you would.”
“Have you seen my guns?” He asks flexing his arm, “These things are killers.”
“Totally…” You say in an unconvinced tone.
He acts offended, bringing his hand to his chest, “Are you doubting me? Do you not believe me?”
“I mean it’s the boogie man.” You reply
He rolls his eyes and huffs, “I’m your boyfriend you’re supposed to believe in me.”
You apologize, “Oh, sorry. What I meant to say is that you could take down anyone. The boogie man wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”
He lets a dry chuckle, “Much better, babe.”
He strokes the side of your face, “Hey, did you eat today?”
“Yeah, did you?” You question
“Mhm.” He answers, “Did you drink any water?”
You let out a dragged, “Yes.”
He looks at you and you watch as his eyes make their way down your body.
He smiles and his eyes meet yours, “You’re wearing my clothes.”
You can feel your face getting hot, “yeah.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Because I felt shitty and me wearing them made me feel better.” You quickly confess
“Oh, baby.” He coos sitting up against the headboard, “Do you still feel that way?”
You move to sit across from him and shrug, “Kind of but you’ve helped a lot.”
He turns his head in confusion, “How? I’ve been talking nonsense since you got here.”
You shrug, “You always talk nonsense.”
“Okay, is it hate on your boyfriend day? First you tell me I can’t defend myself and now you’re telling my I talk nonsense.” He complains
You put your hands up in surrender, “You said it first, I was just agreeing.”
“Well maybe should disagree with me.” He agrues
“But I did and you didn’t like it.” You remind letting yourself fall back onto the bed.
He moves forward to lean over you, his face ever so close to yours.
“You know what I’m going to stop this because I can see that I’m not going to win.” He tells you
He gives you a quick peck to show that he accepts the loss on this one.
You hum in response.
“But you know what I will beat you at?”
“Knowing every word to all to well?” You answer
“Yes but no.” He says getting off the bed, “I’m willing to bet you that I could beat you in Mario Kart.”
“And if you lose?” You question following him out of the room.
“Oh, I’m not losing.” He assures leading you into the living room.
You give him an amused look, “You sound very sure of yourself.”
“Because I am.” He states turning on the switch and tv, “I’m going to hand deliver you an L.”
“Ooh, I’m so scared.” You mock sitting on the couch.
He sits next you and hands you a remote, “You should be, I’m a killer in baby park.”
You takes the remote, a small smile playing on your lips.
"We'll see about that." You challenge, “What do you want if you win?”
He taps his chin acting like he’s thinking of something.
“You’re buying me ice cream.” He states, “And not no McDonald’s McFlurry, I want some fancy shit.”
“What?” You ask, “What’s fancy ice cream?”
“It’s not a McFlurry.” He answers
He acts like the things he says is just common knowledge to everyone else. Like yes a McFlurry isn’t fancy but what would be considered fancy ice cream?
You hold your hand out to him, “Okay, then I want the same thing if I win.”
He takes your hand and shakes it, “Bet. First one to win eight races wins.”
~
Your just started your second lap on Excitebike Arena when you notice Trevor's character zoom by you. But he's going the wrong way.
"Umm... are you aware you're going the wrong way?" You question glancing at his side of the screen.
"You're going the wrong way." He childishly argues finally turning his character around.
He scoots closer to you on the couch, "Did you see that?"
You scrunch your brows together, "What?"
His hand flies over your eyes as he attempts to catch up to you. You move away from and swat away his hand.
"Not cool, bro." You say knowing he doesn't like it when you call him that.
"I'll show what's not cool, bro." he threatens
you're not to far from starting your third lap when he snatches your controller tossing it aside.
“Oh, so we’re cheating?”
~
The more games played the more competitive you two got. It was every man for himself and the two of you were looking for a win.
You were the first to eight wins, smiling brightly as Trevor whines to go again.
You guys were having fun and Trevor would do anything to keep that smile on face.
~
The two of you now sit in some random parking lot in Sherman oaks finishing your ice cream from dolly llamas. After you evidently beat in him in Mario kart 16 to 14.
“I know you let me win.” You state changing the music.
He shrugs you off, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Trevor, you drove the last three races backwards.”
He takes his spoon and swipes some of your ice cream and says, “No I didn’t.”
You give him a look that tells him to be serious.
“Well let’s say… you looked like you needed some ice cream.”
“I would’ve gotten some if I lost.” You reply
He spares you glance but looks back out the window, “Yeah, but you would’ve had to pay and I wasn’t going to let you.”
You lower the music, “So why make the bet?”
He gives you a sympathetic look, “If I’m being honest, you looked like you were done with the world and I wanted to help.”
You nod but don't say anything.
He sets down his cup and grabs your hand.
"Look you said you had a bad day and I had no clue on what to do." He admits, "And whenever I was having a bad day my mom would take me to go get ice cream."
"And Mario kart was something I looked forward to doing with Griffin and Ava after school or after a game." He adds, "So I did what I thought would help."
You turn in your seat to face him, interlocking your fingers with his.
“It did help, baby.” You assure, “I felt like hell before I got to see you.”
"Are you you sure because we could always do something else." He replies, “It’s only six o’clock.”
You shake your head, "No, just being with you is enough. Hell just putting on your clothes made me feel better.”
He squeezes your hand gently, before letting it go. Moving his hand up to your cheek.
You close your eyes and lean into his touch, feeling safe and loved.
"Thank you." You whisper
He leans in kissing you gently.
Pulling back he looks at you with pure love in his eyes.
A goofy smile makes its way on to his face, “I know the best way to end today.”
“And what’s that?” You ask
“A good bowl of cereal and you’re favorite show.” He says in a matter of factly tone.
You shake your head with a laugh, “You really know how to woo a person, Trev.”
He starts up the car, “You can’t tell me some Cookie Crisp wouldn’t hit the spot.”
You put your seatbelt back on and reply, “I don’t know about Cookie Crisp but sure.”
“And you’re back to being a hater.” He sighs making you chuckle.
#trevor zegras#trevor zegras x reader#trevor zegras imagines#trevor zegras one shot#trevor zegras x y/n#trevor zegras imagine#nhl imagine#nhl one shot
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the stakes are high, the water's rough.
pairing: nagi seishiro x reader
tags: office au, office worker!nagi, he is not a football player in this, established relationship, fluff, introvert office worker nagi my beloved 😓
a/n: i love love love the ours mv by taylor swift so i was like ykw why not nagi office worker ,, makes u wonder what would happen if nagi didnt play football and became a pro hmm HAHHAHA my irls also helped w what do people even do in an office so ty to them theyre the best 🫶 enjoy this mwa also thank u nie babe (@fuyuluvr) for beta reading may kith ka sakin 😚
the morning air is definitely not good for the lungs. in a busy city, long gone were the fresh and cool winds of the province. instead, fog and vehicle smoke fill the atmosphere, smothering people on their way to work.
what a dull world to live in, nagi thinks. making his way towards the elevator after mindlessly showing his identification card to the probably half asleep desk attendant and high-fiving the friendly janitor who never fails to greet him every morning.
ding! as the doors slid open, nagi could feel himself melting to the ground. it’s 7:54 am, office hours start at seven. he’s late but so what? it’s not like his boss cares enough for attendance. because of this, he gets an extra 10 minutes to sleep in. so why? why is the elevator so full of people that he has to squish his 190 cm build who’s carrying a briefcase? sighing dejectedly, nagi thinks he should’ve just taken the stairs.
it was silent. other than the constant whirs of the elevator going up, no one dares speak a word. it makes nagi cringe, to be honest. he feels like he’s in a room with a bunch of npc’s just trying to do their role. as soon as the lift stops at the thirteenth floor, nagi is pushed left and right as his fellow employees rush to their desks.
nagi walks over to his desk sluggishly. each step just adds to his growing boredom. the office is still the same as ever. the coffee that toppled over yesterday is still left unclean and the corner plant who has seen better days.
dragging his feet to his assigned cubicle, nagi sat down with a huff. looking around, he notices mr. takahashi, his senior who has worked here for more than ten years, standing in front of the water dispenser just staring into space. yep. this will be a long seven hours.
throughout the day, nagi felt nothing but exhaustion and endless boredom. his boss was nowhere to be found, as usual. he went to three different printers in the office and not a single one of them worked. he couldn't even concentrate on the report he was working on because the beeping from his co-worker's game almost made him pull out his own console and neglect his duty. during lunch, two people whose names nagi didn't even care to know about kept snickering while looking back at him eating his melon bread. how bothersome, indeed.
as soon as the clock strikes four, nagi wasted no time in tidying up his things. rushing towards the exit, nagi even ditches the elevator and ran down the stairs instead, he high fived the janitor for the second time of the day.
while on the bus, nagi decided to play games to pass time. taking in his homescreen wallpaper. a picture of you two at a park, his arms around you from behind, his cheek squished against your own. you beaming at the camera and him having the most miniscule smile ever known to man.
two years ago, you got an offer to study abroad in an exchange student program. at first, you refused, not wanting to leave nagi behind and came along were the doubts if you're even gonna survive in a foreign place all on your own. but nagi talked to you about it and urged you to just go, he'll be fine. he was not fine. during the first week, nagi couldn't sleep. he felt homesick in his own home. at some point, he's even thankful his job is everyday and keeps him away from home, nagi can't believe he ever thought that.
and now, nagi's on his way to the airport. to pick you up. because finally, after two whole long torturous years, you're coming home. to him.
nagi waits at the doors, anxiously tapping his feet. looking ahead, his eyes met yours and all of a sudden, the world doesn't seem so dull anymore. he watches as you run towards him, dropping your baggage at your wake and throwing yourself at him. arms around his neck and legs around his waist, nagi holds you tightly as if he's afraid to let you go again. he pulls your face back, his palm feels warm on your cheek.
"hi, sei. did you miss me?" you whispered, oh so delicately. nagi didn't utter anything back, only staring at you. eyes wandering around your features, rememorizing the face he's only been seeing inside a tiny box for the last two years. nagi leans in slowly, taking your lips in his. he kisses you with longing and fervor.
"missed you. i missed you so much." you heard him mumble into the kiss. pulling back only to hide his face in your neck, nipping at the skin before putting you down.
"let's go home?" you ask him, hands cupping his face. he nods.
home. nagi thinks it's a nice word when you say it.
likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
#blue lock x reader#blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk#blue lock imagines#bllk imagines#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi seishiro#nagi x reader#blue lock nagi#seishiro nagi#blue lock fluff#bllk fluff#tim writes.
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Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 2
Marvel
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes
Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.
Chapter Summary: Bucky doesn't need to know how to print a photo, but he needs to know why his dead soulmate is in the one he's looking at.
Chapter Warning: Mentions of death, sad Bucky. Mentions of vomiting.
Bucky felt like his stomach was going to full out his ass. He slowly rose from picking up the photo, feeling like he’d met his stomach on the way back up.
“How?” He asked, voice breaking as he spoke.
“How what James?” Asked Wanda, brow furrowed as she picked up on his distress.
“How? The photo? How?”
“Wanda took the photo on her phone, it was then sent by a wireless connection to the printer. Would you like us to show you how it works?” replied Vision.
“It’s not that Vis, I don’t think? James?”
Bucky felt his confusion boil over into anger. Did the synthezoid really think he didn’t know how to print a picture? He’d lived in Wakanda, the most advanced country in the world for a year and these idiots think he can’t work a damn printer and a phone.
“Not the damn phone! The photo! How do you have a photo? A photo of her?!?” Bucky’s frustration aimed at Wanda. Vision not taking too kindly to his raised voice being aimed at Wanda, stepped towards him, placing himself slightly in front of her.
“Sergeant Barnes, I’m going to ask you to calm down.”
“Vis, it’s Ok.” She replied stepping around him “James, the photograph? She looks like someone you know?”
Wanda didn’t really need to ask. Bucky’s stoic behaviour usually caused him to block his emotions and feelings from Wanda reading him but now they were fully on show and streaming out of him. She couldn’t not see them. A reaction like this meant one thing. Soulmates.
Bucky nodded tears beginning to rundown his cheeks.
“How do you have this? How do you have her on a photo?”
“Her? Who do you think this is?” She asked pointing at the woman in the photo with herself and Nat.
“She's ours. She’s my soulmate. Our soulmate.” He answered.
Even with his super soldier hearing, so caught up in seeing his lost soulmate, Bucky was oblivious that the rest of the team were now standing behind him. Including Steve.
“What? Buck what are you talking about?” Asked Steve.
Bucky turned towards Steve his hand shaking as he passed him the photo.
“How is this possible? How?”
Natasha’s eyes caught a glimpse of the photo he was holding, discreetly side eyeing Wanda who nodded.
“Anyone want to bring me up to speed here?” asked Tony, trying to catch a glimpse of the photo. Bruce did the same, recognising all of the people pictured immediately.
“Well, that’s Natasha, that’s Wanda and that’s…..wait what’s going on? When did you meet her?” Bruce asked Steve.
“Okay, well I’m no more informed with Bruce’s explanation. Ladies want to enlighten us?”
Nobody answered as Steve headed towards Wanda, eyeing her stack her photos.
“Do you have more?”
Wanda nodded, flicking through the others and pulling out another picture. The same figure this time front and centre, holding a stick of candyfloss. Grinning like it’s the best thing in the world. Natasha is in the background with an expression that is very Natasha, slight smirk, slight eyebrow raise. Wanda thought it captured both your personalities perfectly.
“Here.” She passed the photo to Steve. He let out a choked sob, pushing the photo toward Bucky, rushing into the bathroom, the sound of heaving heard before the door closed.
Unable to hold his simmering emotions anymore, Bucky sank to the floor, clutching the photo and sobbed.
#steve rogers x reader#avengers au#bucky barnes#steve rogers#bucky barnes x reader#avengers#steve x reader x bucky#soulmate au#avengers soulmate au#steve rogers x reader x bucky
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Just so stories: the one in Broadway
It is already old news by now, but as predicted by the Oracles, the tempest-tossed, hungry and huddled masses started camping in front of Broadway Spirits' outlet at midnight, NYC local time, for a chance to meet & greet, watch & touch Ginger Jesus.
Before Mordor starts banging and peddling door to door their rectitude (Do you have a few minutes to talk about how evil your lord and savior is?), I say it again: nobody forced the grannies! Do not free the grannies, they are just fine! They don't want you to help them cross the street (there is an old, hilarious Soviet joke along these lines)! Paging all stations: they are just fine!
Seriously, now: stop being such hypocrites and let live. There is nothing wrong in spending some bucks on what appears to be very good gin (the only one I am tempted to buy, if it ever reaches our remote shores) and very good whisky. They are vastly over 21. They have credit cards, bank accounts and paid mortgages. I doubt they are living on food stamps.
There might be something slightly off-putting in that devotional circus that would put to shame any megachurch, every damn time we have an Event. But it comes with the job and the territory (fun fact: Rudolph Valentino's groupies were a way more sinister bunch). It is what it is. Brave face and think of Scotland. It will pass like a kidney stone, but this too shall pass, until we meet again, don't know where, don't know when.
That being said, it is still unclear to me who they think they are buying those bottles from: A. Malcolm, Edinburgh printer, traitor to the British Crown and spirits smuggler extraordinaire? Or S.R. Heughan, the man behind the myth, by no means a snake charmer, but just a good man - according to C.- whose demeanor screams unavailable to any decent woman on this planet?
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Tempting Bad - Part II
Authors Note: Way too long and a little rushed, but I wanted to put everything you asked me into this request. I tried to shorten it a bit but I didn't succeed. So sorry for that! Also parted in two parts because Tumblr did not let me post the whole thing :(
Trigger warning!
This one-shot includes the topic of suicide and the plot is presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.
Summary: Life consists of small moments that shape us, stay in our memories and make us who we are. Often we don't even know what influence we have on other people, how we appear to the outside world and how we affect other people's lives. And this influence leaves traces
ᕚ---ᕘ
Your eyes were swollen, your cheeks red and hot from crying when you got to your apartment and slammed the door shut. Leaning against it, you painfully slid down along the wood before pulling your knees close to your torso and burying your head deep in your arms.
With multiple, deep sobs you let out your pent-up sadness that had accumulated deep inside you while you felt a noose tighten around your neck and the ground pull out from under your feet.
You tried to calm yourself, which was not easy. The only thoughts floating around in your head were thoughts of hanging your life on the hook and your own death. Sobbing and completely lost, you gave these thoughts the strength they carried within and let them win.
For weeks, you put up with everything life has thrown at you, but the ground had been torn from under your feet.
Desperate and almost in a state of panic, you got up on shaky legs and immediately searched for a pen in various drawers before ripping the paper out of the printer on your way to the coffee table.
Totally lost in your own anger and destruction, you cleared the things that were on the table with a simple sweep of your arms onto the floor. The cracking and clinking of the glasses on the parquet floor were absent in your ears, the only focus laying on the blank sheet of paper. You began to write absent-mindely and after the first word, the pen just flew across the paper.
<Hey my beloved sisters,
Pen and paper have been lying in front of me, scraps of thoughts flying back and forth, but nothing useful that would help me put into words what is going on inside of my mind.
My classmates call me different than the rest of humanity. It hurts to see the disgusted looks and hear the nasty names they call me. Every day, I have to endure the teasing. Comments that make me miserable.
Both of you had suspected something as I withdrew myself from you, watched my development in the last year of high school with growing concern. I suffered in silence, did not want to drag you into a fight that I had to master alone.
But I had lost this incessant fight, my time on this earth is up and you are not to blame.
The price I had to pay for being myself torments me. Excruciating pain as the cold grips me and my innocent blood dries up in my veins. I just wanted to feel complete, but what remains are deep burns on scarred flesh.
Embracing flames, expressed in the form of insults and contempt, pull me deeper. Their dominant psyche and their whispering voices behind my back stifle my cries for help while their words bring me to my knees, slaughter my defenseless body every second of my school days.
I want to be free. Free from everything but above all from the unspeakable pain that infects me with incurable venom. And that is why I say take care and do not cry over me. Nothing can be worse than years of cold bullying leading a young person to commit suicide.
Kara, Alex. I love you. Forever and always,
your Y/n>
Tears had smeared the ink between the lines, stains of them waving the paper. By now you had slumped off the couch onto the floor, one hand cupped over your mouth as you gazed into the distance in silence. Hurt with words and harmless statements, hurt with actions that brought you down.
You were rarely hurt physically, but the emotional pain caused your body to suffer as well. Why you deserved it, was uncertain. But it was cruel and you knew that pain would never go away living that way.
Meanwhile, you hurried through the apartment, trying to find a suitable place for the letter before you put it on the dresser near a picture of your sisters and yourself on one of the happy days. "I hope you forgive me,"
Whispering the last words into the void, you said goodbye to your place of rest, love and protection before you set off to carry out your plan. Walking the streets of National City among crowds, with the hood low over your face, you made your way off to a place you usually went whenever you needed to think.
A bridge with train track below, on which departing and arriving trains passed, noted by their loud noises. For the first time in forever, you felt like you were entering a foreign district, even though you had been coming her for years.
Your legs were heavy as lead and you could feel your heart trying to find a way up into your throat. Completely out of breath and trembling, you remained at the barrier and ignored the few looks you drew from joggers or walkers.
The adrenaline rushed through your body before you climbed over the barrier and were now standing on top of a two inch wide metal beam that kept you from a twenty meter free fall. Your heart was beating fast, blood pounding in your ears while your hands were shaking and a lump was forming in your throat.
You slowly put one foot in front of the other. When you got to the edge of the bridge, you stopped and enjoyed the wind blowing through your hair while you spread your arms like a birds wings. "Do not do it, doll. Please"
You flinched, staggered on the iron beam, but managed to keep your balance. You cocked your head to the side to see the person standing back on the slope and studied them, quickly realizing who it was before a small smile crept onto your lips. It was one of the very few people in your life who could stop you from taking the final step. "Lee, what are you doing here?"
"Kara called me in panic, asked if you were with me.." began the CEO of L-Corp to speak, carefully taking small steps towards you. The raven haired knew exactly where to look for you, had she known the places you went when you needed space and distance. "Come down and talk to me, please"
"Talk about what? There is nothing to talk about, nothing matters anymore,"
"What is on your mind and what led you to this decision. Please, break your silence," she spoke to you urgently and pleadingly. Her usually strong and spiteful voice had dropped into a worried tone, and seemed almost choked as she whispered, "Let me help you"
A cold shiver ran down your back and made your body tremble again, but your tears had dried up. You stood still and silent, your gaze directed to the train that was approaching from afar. "The daily insults so full of hatred have destroyed my soul," your throat went dry, like you did swallowed sand while feeling a cold pressure in your chest. "I can not go on living like this"
"You have an entire family behind you that is willing to help. You just need to talk to us"
Lena´s firm words mingled with your interrupted thoughts and made you sob quietly. For a moment, you felt dizzy and though you were going to fall. But it was just an illusion that made you cling to the railing even tighter, yet it brought you to a realization.
You wanted to live. For your family but above all for what was still ahead of you.
"It will get better, Y/n…" a phrase you have been trying to convince yourself many times over the past few days but failed every time. When those words came out of her mouth, they sounded real. Honest.
Your thoughts faltered briefly and you looked up at emerald green eyes that seemed to glitter in the setting sun. "Really?" you doubted, and your trembling legs retreated to the center of the platform. Standing right on the boundary between solid ground and the abyss, you laid your cold-shivering hands on the iron concrete and looked up again, feeling the icy wind blowing through your hair and making your tears seem colder on your skin.
As soon as the raven haired saw the chance, she grabbed you with an incredible strength and pulled you over the parapet into her arms. Her arms wrapped tightly around your body, holding you close with a firm grip and breathed out a sigh of relief.
Lena laid her head on your shoulder before her eyes closed and focused on your trembling body, which seemed to shatter under her embrace. Your heartbeat seemed to slow, your breathing evened out with the steady rise and fall of your chest. There was only sobbing and a slight hiccup that broke the silence. "Shh, I am here"
And you were more than grateful for that. Grateful, that she saved you from a mistake you probably pulled through if she had not shown up.
#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#imagines#imagine#supergirl#kara danvers#karadanvers#baby danvers imagines#babydanvers#baby danvers x lena luthor#baby danvers#baby danvers imagine#baby danvers x danverssisters#baby danvers x kara danvers#baby danvers x alex danvers#baby danvers x supergirl#alex danvers x you#alex danvers x reader#alex danvers imagine#alex danvers imagines#alex danvers#alex danvers x baby danvers#alex danvers x y/n#alexdanvers x you#alexdanvers x babydanvers#alexdanvers imagines#alexdanvers x reader#alexdanvers#kara danvers x reader
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Did you know of/listen to FOB/Pete before reading Gray or did the book come first?
I knew about FOB because everyone did in 2013 but I wasnt really like A Fan until I read Pete’s book. Anyway this is my origin story
In February 2013 I was in 8th grade. And I was in marching band. So as you can imagine the biggest thing in the world was FOB getting back together and MCR breaking up. My songs know what you did in the dark was also on the radio 24/7.
Anyway, I was already on Tumblr to post about Supernatural. And the average 14yo used to be able to download massive zip files of whatever music was cool off Tumblr to their iPod. I remember loving Where Did The Party Go and listening to it on the bus. But to me this was just Popular Music like The 1975 or Bastille.
And there was also a website called 8tracks where everyone would make playlists about fandoms and you could download those too, and I remember Just One Yesterday was on every Supernatural fan mix because its about angels.
Anyway there was also something happening at the same time called YouTube Could Be On The TV Now and only one girl at my lunch table had this kind of TV so after school groups of people would go watch youtube videos like charlie the unicorn at her house and someone showed the Youngblood Chronicles because it was like the most edgy dark fucked up thing any 14 year old had ever seen.
I was a little excessively sheltered so it was too scary for me but I did think it was cool, however I distinctly remember being absolutely crushed when Pete came onscreen because they hyped him up as the sexy one and then I thought he was ugly as hell and had no interest in him. Sorry. I did understand Patrick was good looking but I didn’t like, care. It is difficult to comprehend this now but in 2013 FOB was an inescapable cultural phenomenon Happening At School.
Anyway because I was in marching band we went on a Band Trip and you had to use the buddy system but nobody wanted to be my buddy. So the band director made me and another unpopular girl named Jennifer be buddies, and we immediately ended up BFFs for all of high school. She was extremely obsessed with bands like MCR, Pierce the Veil, Slipknot, Sleeping with Sirens etc that were a little beyond Fall Out Boy in terms of edginess.
Anyway I started hanging out with her friend group which was like the emo lunch table. Out of all those bands I only could tolerate MCR. My mom also did not want me hanging out with these people because they all smoked cigarettes and had lip piercings and dyed their hair and had like a million stepdads.
Anyway pretty soon after this happened a bunch of girls in this friend group got tickets to see The Used and we wanted to be FRONT ROW so we slept over at Jennifer’s house.
At this sleepover we like made matching tshirts and listened to the Three Cheers CD and smoked tea rolled in printer paper (very cool) and double-pierced my ears because I didn’t have as many piercings. I screamed the entire time and everyone like permanently bent the toilet seat while this was happening and it was all very dramatic.
Anyway everyone had brought books and homework because we were going to get to the venue at the crack of dawn. Which was NOT necessary. NOBODY was camping for this concert. And one girl had brought Pete’s book and I ended up with it pretty quickly after getting there.
Once I started reading it, I couldn’t stop and was ignoring my friends and basically everything happening around me because it is the best book ever and I needed to finish it.
I read the entire thing in basically one sitting and when we had to go into the venue I had just a handful of pages left so I finished it between doors and the show starting and made my friend’s annoyed mom put it in her purse. Then we immediately saw The Used center barricade which was a very intense early concert experience. Bert is a really great live performer and was growling in our faces a lot and like biting wires and writhing around and there was the wall of death and a mosh pit and everything.
So as you can imagine this was all a permanently psyche altering experience for me but especially the book. Part of why I became so obsessed with it as a teen was I was really frustrated and upset everyone on Tumblr and every adult in my life hadn’t even read it but was so insistent it was a garbage book and it shouldn’t be my favorite. I brought it in for an assignment like 2 months after I first read it and got into an argument with my English teacher, who had actually been my favorite teacher ever up until that, and she was really condescending about it.
She gave me a B that was definitely not justified and probably the only time I’d ever gotten a B on an English assignment so I was extremely mad and like Needed To Be Right.
She was mad it was glorifying sex and drugs and mental illness or whatever and I was like arguing it was good and it was satire and she was like “this is absolutely not satire and its rotting your impressionable brain.”
Anyway I remember even on my first reading picking up on some of the Freud stuff and the use of racial terms which kind of clued me into the fact it was not being played completely straight and there was more going on. And I literally was right and it is the best book ever.
I read it over and over and took it to school and slept with it under my pillow from ages 14-17 until I discovered Green Day. Which is like a normal experience a lot of 14 year olds have with a book, but usually it’s like the catcher in the rye or whatever.
But anyway during this period I got super into Pete and Fall out boy lore and reading Chris’ journals because Pete is very cute and fall out boy are very good also
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Aggretsuko - Haida x Reader - A Merger?
Summary: You are Gori's assistant, and when she begins having issues with the accounting department, she sends you down to get the ball rolling.
Warnings: Fluff
"Yes sir," you chirped over the office phone at your desk. "Yes, I'll let her know, thank you. Yes, you too, have a wonderful day Mr. Ton!" You sighed, hanging up with the director of accounting before standing up from your desk. This delivery of bad news definitely called for a cup of tea and a sweet treat.
"Ma'am?" you called into your boss's office, cracking the door ajar.
Gori beamed up at you, setting her paper work to the side. "What's up, (Y/N)?" You nudged the door open a bit further, revealing the refreshments in hand with a nervous grin, to which her chipper demeanor dropped. "What happened?"
"Director Ton from accounting just called to have me tell you that we're going to have to shave the budget for the new ad campaign." you explained, setting a steaming cup of tea and sprinkled donut in front of her.
"Are you serious?!" she cried, flailing dramatically. "By how much?"
"Half." you answered with an exhausted sigh.
"Half!? But we've already cut the budget by two thirds of the original number! What the hell guys!"
"Ma'am, may I speak freely?" you asked, sitting yourself down into a chair on the guest side of her desk.
"Always."
"Perhaps anger isn't the right reaction to this? Admittedly, it is a rather outlandish campaign to someone who isn't in the loop. Maybe they're only cutting us because they don't see how well if could turn a profit?" You explained, crossing you legs, and brainstorming a way to possibly help them Ton understand her view of things. "Maybe we should send a marketing representative to partner with an accounting representative to create a presentation to bring both departments together."
"(Y/N), you're a genius!" Gori cried, rising and slamming her palms on the desk. "It's like a corporate arranged marriage, I love it!"
"Well...that's kind of an odd way to look at it, but yeah. Do you thin it could work?"
"Hell yeah it could!" she answered, excitedly, instantly going to her computer and firing off against her keyboard. "I'll get the memo typed up right now."
"Excellent, ma'am! I think we should carefully choose who we send, though. It should be someone polite, yet firm in our needs- a diplomat of sorts."
"Oh, I know exactly who I'll send!" she reassured, pressing the printing button and waiting for the machine to feed out the paperwork. After she received it, she collected it into a manila folder, before labeling it with: 'Marketing-Accounting Merger'.
"That's fantastic, ma'am, who?"
"You."
"Me?!"
-----
You gulped, anxiously glancing around, trying to navigate the accounting floor, which to you, was uncharted territory. You were beginning to feel hopeless as you spun around, utterly lost among the hallways. In the distance, you could hear phones ringing, keys clacking, and people chatting- a clear indication of the main working area, but you were never able to find the room. Just as you were about to give in and return home, you heard a gentle voice from behind you.
"Need help finding something?"
You pivoted on your heels, a bit startled. "Yes, please!" you begged, cheeks heated from your flustered state. In front of you stood a tall hyena, hands in his pockets, greeting you with a snaggle-toothed grin. "I need to find the accounting department? Is this it?"
"Yes but no," he laughed. "If you're looking for a printer or a vending machine, you're in the right place, but if you need to talk to someone, I can help you."
"Thank you so much, sir, I need to find Mr. Ton." His eyes widened a bit and his smile faltered for a moment before returning with a cocked brow.
"I don't envy you. C'mon, I'll take you to his office." As he began to walk away, you scurried to his side, struggling to keep up with him. "I'm Haida, by the way."
"I'm (Y/N)," you replied, finally beginning to calm down from your earlier panic. "I'm from marketing."
-----
You were embarrassed to find, that you were extremely close to achieving your goal on your own, having walked passed the hallway that lead to his office multiple times. Calmly, Haida walked up to Ton's desk introducing you.
"Sir, marketing sent a rep to talk to you." He then looked down to you with a light smile, encouraging you to take the floor.
"U-Um, yes sir," you bowed awkwardly. "My name is (Y/N), assistant to Director Gori, we spoke on the phone earlier." To your utter shock, the pig smiled at you, standing and bowing to you as well before sitting down again and inviting you to do the same.
"(Y/N), welcome to our department, I hope you found your way alright?"
You nodded with a beam, glancing up to the hyena. "I did, thanks to Haida here."
"Now," the director said, leaning across his desk. "What brings you down here?"
"Ms. Gori has a proposition for you," you began, passing over the folder.
"A merger?" he inquired. "I hardly think that's necessary, we are all one big family in this company."
"We in the marketing department believe that it's crucial that we all be on the same page, and we recognize that we have a habit of coming up with some rather...outlandish ideas for ads." You began to sweat, feeling as if you were under a microscope. This area was built differently than yours. It was one big open space where all of the employees there could hear and scrutinize you. Not only that but you were the smallest person in this conversation, sitting there with Ton, his assistant, and Haida looming over you. Regardless, you presisted.
"We have noticed that, over time you have been pulling our funding, and being quite selective in which of our projects you choose to fund."
"Is that right?" the obese man's eyes furrowed, his fake politeness melting away.
"Y-Yes, sir." You proceeded, swallowing a lump of nervousness. "This is why we are requesting a merger. We believe that there is simply a lack of communication between our departments, and we are understanding of your hesitance to fund projects while uncertain of their outcomes. In this folder, you'll find all the information on this idea, and I'm here if you have anymore questions."
You almost felt sick while he analyzed the paperwork, groaning with disapproval, sifting through pages. "So," he finally spoke again, glancing up at you with an irritated expression. "You want me to give you one of my employees to represent my department to waste their time on this stupid side project?"
You gulped, hesitantly nodding.
"Alright," he said, much to your surprise, before turning to your companion. "Haida, how much work do you have left for today?"
"Not much, sir, why do you ask?" the younger man perked up curiously.
"Pass it off to Anai, as of today, this merger is your main priority." Ton decided, only for the fact that he didn't feel like spending energy on reviewing other candidates. "You are representing our department, so you better make this presentation good. Don't embarrass me."
Haida stood frozen for a moment, surprised at his boss's trust in him. His eyes nervously shifted between the director and you, before he responded. "Y-Yes, sir!" he saluted timidly. "I don't let you down!"
A/N: This is just the first part, let me know if anyone is interested in a second part!
#aggretsuko#haida#haida hyena#haida x reader#haida aggretsuko#aggretsuko x reader#haida hyena x reader
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The Printer's Row Lit Fest is this weekend! I tend to miss it because I live right by Broadway in Lakeview, so I always end up at the Lakeview Arts Fest.
Yes! It's literally on my doorstep, and I was traveling during it last year so I'm stoked to be here for it this year. Lovely to walk out the front door and immediately be confronted by a blocks-long open-air book market.
Chicagoans and other locals, if you're not familiar with Litfest, you should come out for it! It's free to attend and there's giveaways, book signings, second-hand booksellers, indy publishers, lots of political organizations and local businesses, stuff for kids, occasional musical performances, and other events (writers' workshops and such). And you can check out Sandmeyer's, the best local bookshop around, just north of Polk on, you all know it, say it with me, Dearborn!
Litfest is our little nerdy local party and I love it. :)
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Memories From Half A Century Ago; The Cincinnati Tornadoes of April 1974
On the evening of April 3, 1974, your narrator interviewed a woman who found a perfectly new, pristinely crisp, twenty-dollar bill in her front yard. This random occurrence of good luck became newsworthy because her miraculous benefit had floated down into her yard from a passing cloud that had recently spawned an F5 tornado.
At the time, I was not a reporter exactly but everyone that evening became either a reporter or a source. The memory of that day remains so fresh and clear it seems impossible that it transpired exactly fifty years ago.
In the fading afternoon, a heavy storm blew in as I drove a clunky Ford Econoline van from the Hopple Street Viaduct onto Westwood-Northern Boulevard. I was, at that time, a senior at the University of Cincinnati desperately yearning to graduate and move on to the next chapter in my life. To cover tuition, I worked as a printer for the Western Hills Publishing Company. Our offices were on Davis Avenue in Cheviot and our printing presses occupied a floor in the historic Crosley Building on Arlington Street in Camp Washington. My duties as the junior member of the printing crew involved shuttling copy and page flats from the editorial offices to the typesetting and composing staff.
As I climbed out of the valley toward the English Woods housing development, hail scattered across the road. Hailstones rattled on the van’s roof, then pounded, then stomped. It sounded like some gremlin with a baseball bat hammering on the roof as ice balls the size of oranges smashed into the asphalt all around. Tree branches cracked and split and thatched the roadway.
Somehow, I made it to Cheviot and pulled into the Press parking lot. It was full of people, just standing around. I got out and looked at the van. The roof looked like a moonscape, there were so many dents in it.
“Hey! Look at this,” I shouted. No one turned or said a word. And then I saw why.
Stretching from the horizon halfway to zenith was the tornado. It was impossible to comprehend the scale. More than two miles away, we heard no sound except endless sirens calling to one another from every direction. Where we stood transfixed it did not rain. There was no wind. There was only the tornado.
“Look at all that paper swirling around,” someone said.
“Those are garage doors,” another answered.
We watched as the horrendous vision scraped its way northward, the finger of God plowing a furrow along South Road out in Mack. We watched as it withered and lifted and twisted into nothingness against a pallid sky, waving it seemed in farewell at last as it vanished. We stared at each other, silent, unable to find any words.
Gradually, we realized that all the lights were out. There was no power in the offices. The publisher sent me around the corner to a hardware store to buy all the candles they had in stock. It was going to be a long night.
At this point, for the benefit of readers younger than I, it is necessary to explain a few details. The cash register at the hardware store was mechanical. It did not require electricity, much less Wi-Fi, to operate. The editorial offices were stocked with manual typewriters. The telephones were landlines, on a separate network, and functioned even when the power was out. Everyone had a battery-powered radio.
Anyone with the ability to write a coherent sentence became a reporter. I was sent out, still wearing my printshop uniform, in the divotted Econoline, to gather eye-witness reports. I found a small crowd at the Western Hills Country Club who had been herded into a downstairs bar while the sirens howled. They queued up for every available telephone to check in with their families. I found people in shock, wandering through piles of rubble that had been their homes, clutching any random possessions they recovered. I saw ambulances backed up in a line, waiting for utility poles and power lines to be moved. I saw people wrapped in blankets, standing in the middle of nothing left, sobbing on each other’s shoulders.
There were people who swore they saw two funnel clouds and people who claimed there were four, twisting like snakes in the sky. There were people who confessed to being so transfixed by the surreal wonder of the twister that they stood paralyzed as it swooped down on their houses.
And, in the curious way the universe laughs at we mere humans, I found humor.
There was the guy who, in a dispute with his insurance company, was photographing damage to his roof when the warning sirens erupted. He saw the funnel approaching and dove into his basement. When he emerged, his roof was gone, and so was the rest of his house, but he bragged that he had the photos to press his prior claim.
I talked to one of the rescue workers who told me about a kid, maybe 15 or 16 years old, who approached him and begged him to hide a bottle of vodka. The kid didn’t want his mother to know he had the bottle hidden in his bedroom – the bedroom that was now nothing more than a debris field.
Meanwhile, at the University of Chicago, Dr. Theodore Fujita drafted a questionnaire to be sent to almost every newspaper, every radio station, every television station in the country. Dr. Fujita asked a lot of questions about the duration and intensity of the 148 confirmed tornadoes reported that day. He and Allen Pearson of the National Severe Storms Forecast Center hoped to refine the tornado classification system they had created just three years previously. Someone at the Press filled out the questionnaire and sent it back.
A year later, having graduated from the university and transferred to the newsroom, I found a largish cardboard tube lying amid the usual pile of news releases and complaint letters that constituted our daily mail. On opening the tube – it was addressed to no one in particular – I found a map of the eastern United States titled “Superoutbreak Tornadoes of April 3-4, 1974.” Dr. Fujita, compiling all those questionnaires, had mapped and labeled every one of those 148 tornadoes.
In the center of the map, there was my tornado, the only tornado I have seen with my own eyes, officially designated as an F5 monster.
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Father Feelings 》 The Baby Fever AU
Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader
Request: "I need more of Loki doting upon the reader while they were pregnant. He would always be around reader & always had his hands on the baby bump & constantly talked to his child inside the womb." - Requested by @aagn360 ! 😄
Summary: Since you discovered that you were pregnant, Loki is super protective and doting upon you...
Warnings: fluff, fluff and fluff
Word Count: 2,2k
a/n: Thank you for this sweet request! 🥰 I really hope you like what I wrote! 😊💚
Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl @lovingchoices14 @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @acefeather2002 @lulubelle814 @vbecker10 @theaudacitytowrite @lady-rose-moon @ficitve-sl0th
If you want to be added to my Loki Taglist, let me know! :D
Link to the Baby Fever AU Masterlist
I loved Loki. I really did - with all my heart, but sometimes he was a tad too protective. Especially since I broke the news to him, that we were pregnant. Not that I didn't like it, gods no! But he exaggerated it sometimes...
"Babe..." I literally whined, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes. "Get away from the door and let me go, please! The girls are waiting!" "No." He stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why not?" "We discussed that already, darling. I am not letting you go out alone at night, while you are pregnant." I let out a frustrated groan. "And that's okay, babe, but I am not alone and it's just a visit to the cinema! It's not like we are going to a bar with drunk men everywhere, or go on a pub tour. It's not even a mission! It's everything but dangerous!" "Cinemas can be dangerous, too. What if you are choking on popcorn?" Seriously? He pulled the popcorn card? I rolled my eyes, sighing. "Babe... Don't be ridiculous." "I am not being ridiculous." He argued, stepping closer, "I just want my girls to be alright and protected. I don't want anything to happen to you. Or even worse… Lose you..." and placed both his palms on my bump. At his words, my expression changed immediately. There it was... Loki's actual problem. His fear of loss. I gave him a compassionate look, cupping his cheek and grazing my thumb over his sharp cheekbones. "Lokes... you won't lose us, because of a cinema visit. You'll never lose us, I promise." He looked at me; his eyes no longer the ones of a God, but a frightened boy. "Yes?" I nodded and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him softly. "Yes - and besides, what could happen to me? I've got a Black Widow, the Scarlet Witch and the girlfriends of the mighty Thor and the Iron Man by my side. These girls would guard me with their lifes... Trust me, we are protected." Loki squeezed his eyes shut, but nodded. "I can't keep you from going anyway, can I?" "Nope..." I giggled and kissed him again, before I passed him by, heading for the door. "Y/N, please just look after yourself. Call me, if you need me." "Promise." I kissed him a last time, before I left our apartment and went for the communal living room, where the other girls already waited. "Sorry for the delay... Lokes detained me quite a bit." I gave them an apologetic smile. "Let me guess..." Started Natasha with a knowing smirk. "His liability to overprotection?" "Yup." Natasha rolled her eyes, still grinning. "Knew it." "Gods... He's worse than Thor..." Jane stated, giggling. "And even Tony." Pepper said, referring of course to her pregnancy with Morgan. "I hope Viz is not going to be like that, when we decide to have kids..." I sighed, scratched the back of my neck. "I know - and I love him for that, but sometimes it's a tad too much. Although, I can't blame him. He's been through a lot..." "Well, that's quite true..." Agreed Jane. "And it's super cute anyway. I mean... Men and babies, come on!" "Gosh, yes." We all had a laugh together, before Nat linked arms with me and Pepper. "Shall we, ladies?" "With pleasure." I smiled.
The visit to the cinema had just been one example. But there were, of course quite a few more...
I was just standing in front of the printer, waiting for the device to do its job, when I felt a pair of strong hands settling on my hips; palms gliding to the front to rest on the clearly visible baby bump. It caused me to smile. I knew, of course, exactly who that was... "Do you have an appointment, Mr. Laufeyson? You know that no one gets an audience with me without having an appointment." I teased him, knowing how ridiculous he thought of that concept. Loki snorted out a laugh. "I certainly don't care, if I have an appointment or not. I want to see my wife and nobody is going to forbid me that." I giggled softly, "I know that you don't care - and I love it." before I tilted my head to the side, so that I was able to kiss him. "Why are you here, though? It's shortly after ten. Don't you have a meeting about that new mission?" A mischievous smile darted over his face. "Yes, I do, but my clone makes a good work in staring boredly at the presentation of Rogers, so..." "I see, mischief." Loki just chuckled low and pulled me closer. "How are you and our baby girl doing today? I didn't hear you leave this morning." Since I discovered that I was pregnant and therefore couldn't go on missions anymore, I had a talk with my other fellow Avengers and Nick. Together, we decided that I could switch to working for S.H.I.E.L.D in the months, leading up to the birth. I was very happy about this solution. I wouldn't have wanted to just sit at home the whole time and be useless. Gods, no... I didn't work as an agent, of course. Loki was strictly against it. "Certainly not, darling. I am not letting you work as an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D... Their missions may not be as dangerous as ours, but you never know. You wouldn't be the first agent who get hurt or even killed on a mission." And so, I was now here for the office busywork - but like I said... It was fine for me and my back and feet were thankful for this job as well. "We're fine, just a bit tired." "Didn't you sleep well last night?" Loki's voice was laced with slight worry. "No, no, I did sleep good." I said, shaking my head and shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe it's just the whole being pregnant thing..." "Or you are working too hard?" I knew that was coming... It was always a part of his argumentation. I rolled my eyes, but smiled, before I turned in my lover's embrace. "I am not, Lokes. It's not that. I mean... What do I do? I mostly just sit on a desk and go through reports, sort out files and do other boring office stuff. Nothing too exhausting about this." I wrapped my arms around his neck and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, trying to calm his upcoming overprotection down. But Loki being Loki, he raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? If not, I'll have a serious talk with Fury and-" Once again, I rolled my eyes with a smile and interrupted his sentence, by pulling him in a passionate kiss. A good way to shut him up. "It is quite rude of you to try to distract me with your sinful lips on mine, darling." I shrugged my shoulders, giving him a cheeky smile. "But it works." "You are lucky, I love you, my queen." I giggled at his sentence, wanted to answer him as a knock suddenly sounded on my door. "Agent Y/L/N?" It was Maria's voice. "Nick wants to talk with you." "I'll be in his office in a minute, Maria! Thank you!" "Alright, I'll tell him." Her steps subsided again. "Well... Seems like I gotta go now - and you too, mister. I heard this mission is important." A smug smile tugged at Loki's lips. "Not nearly as important as my girls." Loki placed both his hands back on my growing baby bump and pressed a lingering kiss on my forehead. My heart threatened to explode with the love I felt for this man. "I love you so damn much, Lokes." He chuckled softly at my words and brushed a loose strand of Y/H/C hair out of my face. "I love you, too, darling. And I love our child." He kissed me once again, before he stepped back, "I'll see you later." and vanished into thin air.
Yeah... His overprotection could be quite a pain in the ass sometimes, but I nevertheless loved him for being exactly like that.
And then there were moments, where I just basked in Loki's doting attention...
I had barely crossed the third month mark, when I woke up one morning, slumped tiredly into the bathroom to change - and then noticed that my S.H.I.E.L.D uniform didn't fit anymore. I just couldn't button up the black trousers... "Oh come ooon..." I huffed, a frustrated groan leaving my lips. I looked down to see where the problem was - and only then noticed my sleepy brain, that my belly was slightly swollen. A tiny baby bump had just appeared, seemingly overnight. I blinked, couldn't quite realise it. I was so stunned, I didn't even notice how the door to the bathroom got opened... "Darling, what's wrong?" Loki's voice suddenly urged to my ears, ripping me out of my trance. "Nothing, babe... It's just, uh..." A smile darted over my face, as the realisation finally dawned on me. "My trousers don't fit anymore. Guess I have to ask Nick for a new pair." My husband frowned. "Why aren't your trousers fitting any- ohhh..." As soon as his eyes landed on the still unbuttoned piece of clothing, it dawned on him as well. "Yeah..." His oceanic blue eyes met mine again, a smile creeping up his face. Before I could even say more, Loki got down on one knee in front of me, so that he was at eye level with my belly. Carefully, he brushed the fabric down my legs again, giving him free access to touch the tiny bump. He pressed both his palms gently against it, completely in love. I just watched him with tears in my eyes and reached out my hand to brush his long, raven-haired curls back; enjoying this precious moment. When his orbs met mine again, they were also brimming with tears. Oh, how much I loved this vulnerable, soft side of him. He smiled a teary smile at me, before he redirected his attention to the tiny life, growing inside of me. I felt how his lips grazed my skin, peppering the bump with soft kisses. "I love you, Y/N. And I love this baby so much. How did I ever deserve you?" I cupped his cheeks in my palms, tracing his sharp features with my thumb. "You deserve the world, my love. You've been through so much. Life didn't always treat you kind, I know. But not anymore. You've got me now; we've got this kid - and we will be a wonderful family." Loki didn't answer, stayed silent for a few moments. "You are incredible, darling, do you know that?" I had to giggle at his words. "Yeah, I know. You told me before, babe." Loki stood up again, took my hands in his. "This is all I ever wanted. You and that baby - this life - is my true glorious purpose." A tear escaped the corner of my eye, clearly triggered by his loving words. I stood on my tiptoes to capture his lips with mine.
From that day on, he used every opportunity to touch and kiss my baby bump - even speaking from time to time with Ella. It was the cutest thing ever, and I enjoyed every second of it...
I couldn't tear my eyes off the sweet sight in front of me. It was already quite late. All the lights were out, except my bedside lamp. I laid in bed, actually wanted to read, but then I got joined by my husband, and now? Well now, he was laying on his stomach, between my legs. He used my left thigh as a pillow, while one of his hand was intertwined with mine, the other was draped protectively over my baby bump. He had snatched the book out of my hands, wanted to read for us, but now, soft snores were escaping his lips. He just slept in like that, while reading. It was too cute to handle.
I just stared at him, with a smile on my lips - until I felt suddenly a strong kick against my bladder, causing me to hiss in pain and move, what in return woke up Loki again. I felt how he stirred and slowly lifted his head. "Is everything alright, love?" He asked in a deep, sleepy voice. "Yes, Ella's just been kicking me, is all. Go back to sleep." "She kicked?" "Uh.Huh." I saw how Loki propped himself up, got on his knees, the muscles in his bare upper body flexing quite deliciously. Sleepily, he rubbed his eyes to fully wake up, before he placed both his palms back on my baby belly. "Well, hello there, sweet princess." He spoke in a soft voice, receiving a soft nudge against his palm in return, causing him to chuckle. "Can't you sleep, baby girl?" Another nudge. "Why not, huh? Was it because I stopped reading to you and your mama?" Ella kicked me even stronger. "Ow!" Loki chuckled and pressed a kiss on top of my bump. "I take that as a yes. Sorry, my darling." Loki grabbed the book, which had almost fallen off the bed after he had slept in and opened it, picking up his reading where he left. I just smiled, thinking to myself, what a wonderful man I had by my side. I couldn't have wished for a better man to be the father of sweet Ella.
#the baby fever au#loki laufeyson x female reader#loki laufeyson x reader#loki x reader#loki x pregnant reader#loki x female reader#loki x y/n#loki x you#tom hiddleston x reader#tom hiddleston characters
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London Boy (Ranpo Edogawa)
The printer made one last wheezing sound before turning off once more. "Man, it only printed out seven of them." Y/N chewed on her lip in frustration. "Ranpo isn't going to like this. Maybe if I make a trip to the library on my lunch break." She thought as she gathered the papers up in one hand and pulled out her cellphone.
The time was currently eleven thrity in the afternoon. If she left right now, she could also get one of those fancy sandwiches from the Cafe by the station. Y/N quickly clocked out her lunch break and made her way out of the building. To her surprise Ranpo was outside, leaning against the building railing looking bored.
Quietly, she slowly stepped over to where Ranpo was and stood in front of him. Ranpo glanced up and immediately presented Y/N with a wide grin. "Y/N! There you are! I've been waiting out here forever!" The detective whined to the other. "Are you ready for lunch yet? You're paying for being late!" Ranpo stuck out his tongue and made a childish face.
"Um, well I still have to finish a few things. But I'll bring you back something from a bakery yeah?" Y/N hesitantly explained, watching as the male's eyes slowly dropped in disappointment. "We can definitely go to dinner though! Okay? See you later!" She quickly ran away from the other and made her way to the station. Not giving ranpo the opportunity to talk or stop her.
***
An hour later, Y/N had returned to the agency carrying a small box in her arms. After clocking back in, she took the box up to her desk to finish up her assignment. It took nearly her entire lunch break but she finally manged to finsh the print job for Ranpo. Before she could get to her desk though, a figure stoof in front of the agency doors.
Ranpo looked up from his spot arms crossed and a frown on his face. "Did you even eat?" Was all that followed from his lips.
"Ah." Y/N said looking dumbstruck.
Ranpo let out a long sigh before grabbing Y/N's free arm and dragging her away from the agency. "You can't do your job if you have no food for your brain, dummy. Let's go eat at that new Cafe! Since I had to wait an extra hour for my lunch I'm extra hungry. So your paying!" Ranpo happily explained, his grip tighten on the other.
"But the deadline!" Y/N tried to protest but still allowed herself to be pulled away by the older man.
"Eh, I don't really care about that." Ranpo shrugged, "Those government people can cry about it for all I care. Food is more important than trying to secure a capitalist state." Y/n couldn't help but blink at the male in respond before she was suddenly stoo in front of the cafe.
What. In. The. World.
Without a word, Ranpo quickly pushed Y/N into the building and skipped straight to the cashier. "Hi there! Can I get one of everything on your menu please? Thank you!" With that Ranpo had placed a black credit card on the counter and grabbed Y/N's hand before walking off to find a table.
"Um, Ranpo are you good?" Y/N questioned, feeling taken back by the sudden forcefulness coming from the older male. Instead of responding, Ranpo gently pushed Y/N into a nearby chair and took the seat next to her.
"Now we can finally start our lunch date!" Ranpo smiled cheerfully.
"D-date?" Y/N stuttered, face feeling awfully warm.
Ranpo pouted, "Jeez, I asked you yesterday! Remember? Did you hit your head or something at the library?" Y/N just blinked at the other in shock, this was a date?
"Um, yeah I guess I did forget. I'm sorry Ranpo, I didn't mean to forget like that." Y/N blushed red, looking down in embarrassment at her words.
"Ah! It's fine really! Just don't let it happen again!" Ranpo said, clinging onto the other with a wide smile on his face. If Y/N had gathered the courage to glance at the other, she would see that the red in his checks looked absolutely exceptional.
#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#ranpo x reader#ranpo x y/n#bungou stray dogs ranpo#ranpo edogawa
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There's four of us!
A RED GUY X MALE! READER
Chapter 2: Jobs PART 2
TW: None, I believe.
---------
Red looked to a speaker on the wall, and took it, putting it close to mouth so they could hear loud and clear. "Um.. sorry to interrupt, guys.. have any of you s-- seen a strange, uhh.. box person?" He asked through the speaker.
"Box?" Said one of the employees, pointing to a green bag with a white plus symbol on it. "No, no, he's more of a business bag.. just a brown bag." Replied Red to the gesture the employee had made.
...
...
They only stared back intensely. Yellow then took the speaker and said; "He eats breakfast! He's one of those ones with one of himself!"
...
...
"Oh-- uh-- also, I think the phones ringing.." Said Red after a long minute of silence.
"Um.. maybe I should try, hold on.." Y/N fumbled with the speaker that was formerly in Yellows hands, and placed it up to to his mouth. "He-- he was singing, he went into that closet right over there a minute ago.."
...
...
"You need to be more aggressive, Y/N! I say, letting them walk all over you is not going to do the trick!" Said Duck suddenly, grabbing the speaker away from him. "Hu-- Huh? But they didn't even say anything--"
Loudly, Ducks voice blared from the speakers; "Attention, freaks! It's me! We're supposed to be starting our new job any moment! How do we get out of here or away from you immediately?!"
...
...
They went back to work.
"How strange, they're pretending they don't respect me!" Scoffed Duck, rolling his eyes at their mocking behavior. "And the phones still ringing, guys, isnt..." Red began to walk towards the door containing the phone ringing.
"Isn't anyone gonna get that?" He asked, the workers only dismissively glanced at him while still doing their work. "Um.. I can answer it for you if you want." Softly offered Y/N, walking up to him.
"Huh? Oh, no, no need.. I'll get it." Replied Red.
"Oh.. well-- I can still go with you if you want." Y/N offered once more, averting his eyes.
"Um.. sure, I guess you can."
"Good!.."
Y/N followed Red into the office where the phone was ringing, but stopped upon hearing Ducks voice say something behind him as Red entered into the office.
"I say, that Y/N fellow always just let's people walk all over him! He's really got to stand up for himself sometime!"
"Um.. yeah. He sure does." Replied Yellow, seemingly not knowing what to say to that.
...
...
Y/N closed the door.
Red picked up the phone and spoke into it softly, "Um.. hello.. your through to.. Petersons and Sons and Bits and Friends.. huh." He read carefully off the wall as Y/N stood stiffly next to the chair behind the desk that was inside the office.
Y/N didn't bother to pay attention to what Red had to say to the person on the phone, only staying alone in his thoughts that had manifested upon hearing what Duck had said. He didn't let people walk all over him, he wasn't weak like Duck thought of him as. So why did Duck treat him like that?
After a few minutes, Red put down the phone and said; "Alright, Y/N-- let's go."
"Oh, um, right.." Softly replied Y/N, being immediately pulled out of his thoughts. It was only when he took one step when a sudden female voice with a Scottish accent spoke from below.
"Wow! Nice work! Your a real go-getter, arent ya?" The Printer was speaking, which was not really strange considering what it was like around this world, but was still a bit freaky nonetheless. Y/N caught himself flinching back in fear, a little startled.
Red took a step in front of him and got in front of him, knowing full well how he felt about random talking objects randomly appearing. "Am-- am I? I don't really think I am, most people say i--" "Well I think you are! And you've got such a beautiful telephone voice if I may say so myself!"
"Oh.. thanks, thats very kind."
"Thank YOU! Why don't you sit down and--"
A pair of hands randomly pulled Red into the chair, Red appeared very uncomfortable with the position he was now in. Y/N slightly flinched, now a little afraid for Red.
"--make yourself comfortable?"
"Oop! I got a fax coming in for you!" As she(the printer) said that, she grunted as it came out of her and made noise. The fax in question read; "Hello, you're doing well. I like you."
Y/N swallowed his spit and felt a chill run up his spine.
"Oh, that's nice.. who's this from?" Asked Red.
"Me~" The Printer answered.
With the combination of Reds very clearly uncomfortable demeanor and aura, and Y/Ns fearful face, he(Y/N) couldn't help but shake the feeling that he was going to regret ever coming here with his friends.
And as much times as he tried to deny it inside his mind, he couldn't help but feel as if it were true.
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Okay, let's go! It's 2024, and this talk should have been left back at the beginning of Holivia, before we'd even spent two years explaining and practically drawing things out for people.
First of all, anon: behind all this universe that you see, there is a galaxy of events that you don't see! And a lot of people working to ensure that you continue not to know how it happens.
To give you a practical example: if you've ever been to Disney, you may have noticed (and if you haven't, here's a curiosity) that you don't see people taking the garbage out of the garbage cans. I dare you to spend a whole day there and send me a photo of a cleaner doing this task. You won't be able to. Because there is an underground world in the Disney parks, where everything happens: where employees walk, where characters hide, and where everything that Disney doesn't want you to have access to happens. This is done to ensure that your experience is not spoiled and that you don't miss out on the "magic" that happens around you.
The same behavior exists in the world of cinema, in the world of literature, in the world of celebrities. NO ONE, in their right mind or of their own free will, will expose to you what goes on behind the scenes. You don't see the storeroom of a shopping mall, you don't see the work of a printer printing books. And when you do, it's all purposeful, organized and clean.
Now, bringing Mitch's show, which is what you mentioned, anon: it really wasn't planned. By Harry, at least. But it's curious, to say the least, that a circus was set up outside the venue where the show was taking place, just after Miss T arrived. Until then, as far as I know, there were no paparazzi or fans at the door, and if there were, they were few. But it wasn't until she arrived that we suddenly had photographers, separate cars, and people shouting her name.
Now answer me this: how did they know she was there if during the whole concert we only saw pictures of Harry? if she had a performance of her play happening the same night? If they told me there were photographers at the back door only, it would make total sense, after all, that's where Harry came in. It stands to reason, then, that that's where he'd come out. But, for some unexplained reason, some photographers knew that they were going out the front door, which Harry NEVER does, unless - mind this - it was planned. If he doesn't want to be seen for some reason, Harry goes in and out through alternative doors, whether in restaurants, concerts, hotels, or anywhere else.
Just do 2+2 and watch the magic happen. Miss T was anonymous until recently, no paparazzi are stalking her day and night. Not even Harry, a three-time Grammy-winning musician, has photographers glued to him all day. And, really, Jeffrey only needs to make one or two calls to the main agencies so that no one photographs them if that's what Harry wants. Do you know why? Because NO ONE is going to take issue with one of the most acclaimed artists of our time. That's shooting yourself in the foot.
Those photographers were called, just as they were called in Japan. There was a plan for them to be seen leaving together and, for that reason, Harry went out the front door. Otherwise, we would have seen photos of him arriving too, but curiously, we haven't.
And, really, to say that you're not a shipper when the first comparison you make is with the Larries shows that you haven't been here very long. Because this is one of the greatest proofs of a disguised shipper, who tries to defend the indefensible, which is that they do call the photographers when it's convenient. Because the whole scene was pathetic, right? She only showed up there to leave with him through the front door, because public humiliation must be a kink. Her boyfriend didn't want to go to her play because he preferred to see his friend play, even though he's been in the same city where Mitch has performed MANY times. But he thought that THAT day and THAT moment was the right time to go to a performance. So, in order not to miss the opportunity, she set up a quick circus there, went to the venue and got five seconds of attention.
But that's what I always say: the devil works faster, but nobody beats Jeffrey Azzof! If he needs to do something to ensure that his main customer is safe and satisfied, he will. Even if it means releasing photos of Harry walking around NYC alone on the same night.
Something for you to read.
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The Other Woman (Reversed)
CW/TW : Swearing? Brief mention of infidelity
— Summary : It's the start of a new school year and the last thing you were expecting was to become involved with the parent of a student. A parent who just so happens to be a pro hero.
— Note : Grammar and I don't get along so don't expect much from that department. This is also going to be a series so yay for that.
WC : 2k
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April 1, 20XX
[7:00 am]
[In your apartment]
"We start the month with a new scandal!" The gossip announcer states.
"A new month but the same old stories with these drama channels." You roll your eyes as you slip your shoes on. You just couldn't stand drama channels that tried to exploit the lives of perfectly normal people.
You make your way down the familiar streets that lead you to the preschool that you work at.
[7:30 am]
"You're earlier than usual." Your coworker points out as she wipes down the kid's tables.
"New year means new healthy habits." You smile as you put your bag down behind the receptionist's desk. The truth was that you didn't have any reason to stay home. "Are we going to get any new students?"
"Just one. All I know is that he's a quirkless boy. Adelaide should know more." Your coworker says with a sad shake of her head.
"Hey Y/n." Your other coworker greets you with a smile as she comes out of the bathroom with cleaning supplies in tow.
"Hey Adelaide." You turn the television on and change the channel to a news station. "Any details on the new kid?"
"I was waiting for somebody to ask!" Adelaide exclaims as she puts the cleaning supplies down haphazardly. "Not only is he quirkless but he's also the son of a top hero! No I don't know what hero but still!"
You pick up the cleaning supplies as you listen to her go on about other drama in celebrity lives. You disliked this about her but you could never bring yourself to say anything. You still valued her friendship nonetheless.
[8:00 am]
"Are you going to be up in front today?" Adelaide asks as she hands you a pack of blank paper for the printer.
"Just until Kaede gets here." You kneel down and begin to press the buttons needed to open the printer just as the front door opens. You hear the all too familiar beeps of the jammed printer. "Give me one second."
You can feel somebody towering over you as you hurry to open the printer. You could feel their eyes burning into the top of your head as you finally manage to refill the printer paper.
"I'm sorry for the wait." You stand up and dust yourself off. "How can I help you?" You wipe at a small clump of lint that has attached itself to your pants.
"I'm here to leave my kid." A deep voice responds before you finally look up.
You look up and meet the eyes of the number one hero. The Katsuki Bakugo. You had to admit that he was more handsome in person but you push those thoughts to the back of your mind.
"And his name?" You sit down and power up the computer.
"Katsumi Bakugo." Bakugo responds as a small boy peeks out from behind his leg.
"Ah yes. It looks like you haven't filled out his emergency contact information." You click a few things before the printer begins to print. You grab a clipboard from inside the desk before you clip the papers on.
"You'll just have to fill these out and we'll be all set." You hand the clipboard over along with a flower pen. You smile at the sight of such a large man holding a bright pink flower pen.
"Hi." Katsumi says as his little hands lift him onto the desk to better look at you. " 'm Katsmi."
"I'm Y/n. Do you want to come back here and look at all of our toys?"
"Yes please." Katsumi says with a grin before he lands on the ground.
You open the door and watch him slowly peek in. Your smile grows as you watch his eyes widen in excitement. This was a part that you airways enjoyed.
"And who do we have here?" Adelaide asks as she walks towards you.
"This is Katsumi Bakugo. Little one, this is Adelaide. She'll show you around while I finish talking to your dad."
"Kay." Katsumi says before he walks away with Adelaide.
You turn your attention back to the pro hero who is looking at his clipboard in frustration. "Is there a problem?"
"No. Is this all?" Bakugo says as he hands the clipboard back.
You look over the paper before you look back at your screen. "That sh... Oh? Mr. Bakugo, it seems that we're missing all of Katsumi's information besides his date of birth and name." You didn't know how he had even managed to enroll his son into the school but you held back your questions.
"Can't I do this later? I have to get to work." Bakugo says as he checks his watch.
You look at the time to see that it is 8:15. You realize that he had probably decided to go into work late to be able to drop his son off.
"Of course. Please remember that our pick up time is at three on the dot."
"Yeah. Bye little man." Bakugo says before he waves at Katsumi who had been playing with blocks.
"Bye papa!" Katsumi says before waving with a block still in his hand.
You watch the large man walk out without another word. You couldn't help but admire the small act that his son would probably never learn of.
[2:59 pm]
"Miss Y/n! Look!" Katsumi exclaims as he shows you a drawing of what you assume to be his father.
"Wow. It looks amazing. Is this your papa?" You kneel down to his level to better hear the boy.
"Uhuh! Papa fights bad guys! Keeps us safe!" Katsumi says before you hear a soft alarm go off.
"Did you hear that Katsumi?"
"Yes." Katsumi says before he watches you pull your phone out.
"That means.." You stand up straight before letting the alarm capture all the kid's attention. "It's time to go home for the day!"
You instruct the children in cleaning up as parents and nannies begin to arrive.
[3:46 pm]
"Hello Mr. Bakugo, this is my third attempt at reaching you to remind you that it is past pick up time. Please call me back if anything has come up. I can stay until five if necessary but I will still need you to call me back." You hang up before you sigh.
You stand up and slightly move the curtain that covers the TV area.
Your frustrations melt away at the sight of Katsumi watching cartoons with Kaede's niece.
"Are you going to watch Miss?" Katsumi asks as he notices you.
You pretend to think it over before you nod. "Only if you two promise to keep it a secret from Kaede."
"Okay!" The two children exclaim enthusiastically.
You take a seat behind them so as not to block their view of the screen. You let yourself laugh at the childish jokes and gasp at the predictable moments. Being around children all day brought out the inner child that you wished had been better taken care of. This is how you would let yourself heal. By taking care of these children in the ways that you should have been taken care of.
[5:15 pm]
[In the preschool]
" 'm hungry." Katsumi says before his stomach rumbles as if to confirm his statement.
"Then we should get you something tasty to eat." You bite the inside of your cheek as you realize that Kaede had already cleaned out the last of the afternoon snack.
You had eaten your lunch long ago and you didn't have permission to take a student off the premises.
"Just give me a second to call your papa." You give the boy a smile before he nods and walks off to color.
You walk to the receptionist desk and quickly punch in the number that you had no choice but to memorize into the phone. You hear the phone ring over and over until you reach his voice-mail.
"Mr. Bakugo, it is past five and much later than three. I have called you ten times. Katsumi is hungry and I know that it is unprofessional and against the rules but I will be taking him to eat. You can reach me at XX-XXX-XXXX." You hang up before you turn to Katsumi.
"What do you want to eat little one?"
"Shabu shabu!" Katsumi practically yells in his excitement.
You smile before nodding. "Well go put your shoes and jacket on." You watch him walk to his cubby before you grab your bag and the keys to the building.
You wait for him to finish putting his shows on before you lead him outside. You lock the door behind you before you look up the closest hot pot restaurant.
You feel his small hand wrap around your fingers before you smile. "Stay right beside me little one."
"Okay Miss!" Katsumi says with a nod before the two of you begin to make your way to the restaurant.
[6:20 pm]
[In the hot pot restaurant]
"We'll be having shabu shabu. Could I get a bib as well?"
"Coming right up." The waiter says before walking away.
"Shabu shabu! Shabu shabu! Love shabu shabu!" Katsumi chants as he bounces in his seat.
You put your phone on the table to make sure that you will be able to see if you receive any calls.
"Ice cream later?" Katsumi asks with a tilt of his head.
"Would your papa let you have ice cream on a normal day?" You watch as the waiter returns with a bib and your food. "Thank you."
"no." Katsumi says with a frown.
"Then we'll stop by a convenience store and get you one sweet." You put the bib around his neck as he lights up.
"Miss is so nice!" Katsumi states with a wide grin.
You smile and nod as you place the food into the warm broth that the waiter brought. "But this is only for today."
"Tha's 'kay." Katsumi says as he watches the vegetables float in the broth. "Miss is still a nice lady."
You feel a warmth in your chest at his words. Kids were so pure and honest. It sometimes caught you off-guard how kind and easy to please they were.
[7:37 pm]
[Outside of a convenience store]
You carry the sleeping Katsumi in one arm as you use your free hand to win a prize in a claw machine. You manage to get a prize in your first attempt but contain your joy so to not wake the sleeping boy.
You take your prize and smile contently as you begin the long walk back to the preschool.
[8:52 pm]
[Inside the preschool]
You put the still sleeping Katsumi down on a bed before you put a blanket over him.
You close the curtain covering the sleeping area as you return to the receptionist desk. You begin to sort the papers that you had left throughout the day.
You wipe down the desk before you water your plant.
"What now?" You look around the space that you had organized before you went out to eat.
You pull your personal laptop out of the locked drawer in the desk. You power it on and take a look at your finances.
"I'm on track to pay the next month of rent but I'm behind for the next two months. You sigh before you look at your expenses. "Phone bill, bus pass, Netflix, Spotify, Hulu, Amazon... I really need to cut back."
You put your head down as you try to think of what to cut out. Your thoughts are interrupted by loud knocking.
You immediately look up to find Bakugo looking at you like a crazed man. You get up and unlock the door.
"Katsumi?!" Bakugo says as he looks past you and into the seemingly empty space.
"He's asleep." You cross your arms in front of your chest as you continue to block the entrance. "It's past three. You didn't explain anything before you left, didn't call, or do anything to let me know that you would be late."
"I know. I thought that my wife would pick him up." Bakugo says as he runs a hand through his hair.
You notice that he is still in his hero attire before you frown. "And why didn't she?"
"Miscommunication on my part." Bakugo says as he continues to look past you.
"You still need to fill out the paperwork before..." You can see that he is anxious to see his son so you cut yourself off. "Do you want help putting him in your car?"
"Yes please." Bakugo says as you motion for him to follow you to the sleeping area.
You gently pick up Katsumi and the blanket along with him. "i won this for him." You hold up the stuffed animal from earlier before he nods.
You carry him outside and wait for Bakugo to open the door to his car. You gently set Katsumi into his car seat before you strap him in.
You wait for Bakugo to close the door before you look him in the eyes. "Is this going to happen again?"
"It most likely will." Bakugo says truthfully. "His mother won't be around for some time and I have hero work. I'll try to find another school for the kid." He says before walking over to the driver's side.
"I'll take care of him." You watch him stop in his tracks to look at you. "I'll stay here until you can pick him up."
"Hero work can go until much later than this." Bakugo reminds.
"I know. I don't mind staying later as long as I'm aware of it."
"I'll pay for the extra time." Bakugo says with a nod.
You nod back before you step away from the car. "Drive safe." You watch him drive away as you try to not get lost in the thoughts of being moved around so much as a child.
You shake your head before you walk back into the preschool to collect your things and finally make your way home. Thoughts of the son and father lingering in the back of your mind.
#bnha bakugou#bakugo katuski#katsuki bakugo#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha bakugou#reader insert#fem reader#parent au#pro hero bakugou#x reader#Parent bakugo#female reader#married bakugo#married au#bakugou#katsuki#not accurate bakugo#burnt out bakugo#adult bakugo#domestic mha#aged up mha#reader x character#wattpad#series#part one#my hero x reader#my hero fanfic#fanfic
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