#assistant reader
Text
Part 4 of Mafia!Price
No Content Warnings
There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.
He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.
You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.
Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.
“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”
You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.
“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”
He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.
Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.
Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.
“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”
Will need to call later today — as if!
“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.
He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.
“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.
You blink. Are you what?
“Tomorrow, sir?”
He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”
When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.
“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”
You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.
“I do now.”
Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.
“Of course you’re coming along.”
“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”
“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”
“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”
“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”
You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.
“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”
“‘Fancy man party’?”
“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”
You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.
“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”
You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.
“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”
You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.
“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”
“Sounds great, luv.”
You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”
He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”
—
Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.
“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”
He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.
He snorts. “My job happened.”
You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”
You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.
He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.
“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”
He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.
The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.
“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”
You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”
But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.
It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.
You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.
“Sir?” you call.
“In here, luv.”
You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.
“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.
You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.
It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.
“E-evening, sir.”
He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.
“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”
You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.
“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”
You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.
“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.
“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”
They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.
“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”
They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.
“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.
“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.
Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.
“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.
“The silver and diamond.”
You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”
A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”
You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.
“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”
You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”
“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.
You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”
He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.
“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.
You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.
“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”
You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.
“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.
Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.
“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”
He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.
“That bad, eh?”
“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.
“Gift from an ex,” he explains.
You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.
“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.
He snorts. “Maybe.”
You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.
“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.
“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.
You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.
You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.
Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.
“Pass inspection?” He asks.
“Barely,” you tease.
His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.
“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”
“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.
You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.
“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.
“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”
You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”
Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.
Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.
“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”
You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.
#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#oddly wholesome for a mafia au#mafia!au#mafia boss price#assistant reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
The mental image of Bruce hearing someone refer to him and assistant!reader as “the CEO and his dog” and decking them right then and there, public persona be damned
As a general rule, women, Bruce knew were not always perfectly put together. And, his lovely assistants were no different.
It was a very long flight, aided and abetted by an emergency landing and having to take a puddle jumper some where else to get on another flight... It had been a nightmare.
And as some point, you'd simply removed your make up and changed your clothes- tight dresses and heels were good for office buildings but hardly comfortable navigating gravel and bullying people into doing what you needed them to do to move his speaking engagements. So he wasn't shocked at your switch to a pair of nice linen pants and a plain-colored shirt. And he was tickled to death seeing you in sandals and a messy bun.
Why, he had no idea. But he was fine with you being comfortable. If he could dress down, there was no reason for you to wear a full face and clothes that were beautiful but not functional.
Even bare faced you're a pretty girl- but he's always a little taken by surprise how... young you look. It's not that you didn't know how to do makeup and it aged you but. There was a quality that made him want to kiss you on the forehead and make sure you didn't stray too far.
However, apparently, not everyone had similar feelings about women and their apperance.
God for bid, he reflected as you tended to the scrapes on his hand, a lady's face get just a little shiny or she have any sort of imperfection anywhere-
"I don't think you broke anything," you tell him.
"Good. It was a bad punch."
"Bruce-"
"You're not a dog," he said simply. "Or a pet. Or a commodity. You're a woman. I won't set a precedent that anyone can talk to you that way."
"I already called legal... And Alfred is putting together bail. Just incase."
"What would I do without you, Miss Y/N?"
"You probably wouldn't be getting put in a cop car."
450 notes
·
View notes
Text
e-mail. || Roman Roy || smut
Pairing: Sub!Roman Roy x F!Reader
Summary: You're roman's assistant, and after delivering breakfast something clicks.
Word count: 2.154
18+ only! More under the cut
Warning(s): SMUT, aka 18+ only! Sub Roman, mommy kink, praise kink, hand jobs, come eating,
A/n: tysm @prettywordsblog for the request!! :DD i love your writing so it was a pleasure to get requests from you (my requests are still open, fyi)
_______________________
You've been wearing pencil skirts and heels a lot these days.
It's not that you particularly enjoy wearing them. Running errands like "get me a bagel" and "actually, I want a cinnamon roll instead, so get me one of those" do not become easier with red bottoms, and the cold of New York in autumn nips at your barely clad legs with ferocity.
But when you wear them, Roman becomes... docile.
Maybe it's the fact that the heels make you taller than him. Or shit, maybe he has a sexy assistant fantasy, who knows. All you know is that when you dress the way you now do, he hesitates when he snidely asks you to write his e-mails for him. Instead, he carefully suggests you should do them, not a singular perverted comment slipping in.
So now, as you walk out of the elevator, you hear the clicking of your heels echo. It's far too early to be in office, evident by the lack of your peers in the bull pit.
You huff as you approach Roman's office and see him lounging around, legs on his desk as he leans back, staring at his phone. You don't even bother knocking, simply swinging the door open. "I know it's like, three in the morning, but can you at least try to pretend you're being productive?"
He lets out a huff, dramatically rolling his eyes as he flops his legs down. "Yes, mommy," he mockingly whines out, staring at the plastic bag swinging from your arm. "What's in the bag?"
"A gun, so I can finally kill you," you casually throw out as you place the bag on the glass coffee table, throwing off your long jacket onto the leather chair he has. Roman stands up, amusement twinkling in his doe-like eyes as he walks over to sit on his couch. "Y'know, I could totally report you for saying that. That's like, a legit death threat. I could SWAT you." With a tiny jump he hops on the chair, shoes still on as he crouches on top of the couch's pillows.
You can't help but frown. Sometimes you feel like he isn't a total nepotism baby, but instead some kind of orphan child raised by wolves. "Don't do that with your shoes on, Roman, it's unhygienic." With another eye roll he lets himself fall onto the chair, resting his one leg on the thigh of the other. He leans back, arms reaching over the couch's back cushions.
You grab the contents of the bag and place them on the coffee table as you hum a random tune. The smell of a breakfast spread makes you hungry as hell, but you don't have another break until six hours from now. Silently, Roman watches as you place the various foiled up plates down and remove the foil.
Roman eyes the dishes-- an omelette, some sausages, bacon, hash browns, and a paper cup of coffee that he's sure is from his favorite café. "Okay, this is fuckin' weird. What's the catch? Did you get a chef to make all of this arsenic-infused? Because as my assistant, you're also my taste tester, so I'm not eating until I see you poison yourself first," he rambles, cautiously watching you place napkins, a fork and knife down.
"This is a congratulatory breakfast, so just shut up and be grateful."
He raises his brows at you. "The fuck are you saying congrats for?" With the tiniest smile you could stomach giving him, you throw the plastic trash in the bin. "The Oplex deal, Roman. You were the one who ended up buttering the guy up," you explain.
His eyes widen for only a second before returning to their neutral, lidded state. "Oh please, all I did was give him a verbal fuckin' blowjob. Kendall did all the business-y shit," he mumbles out, picking up the cutlery with a solemn expression.
"I'd disagree, and I think Mr. Roy would, too," you mumble out in return. You watch Roman as he takes the first bite of his omelette and moans, quickly scurrying to get another bite. "Fuck, this is good. Is this laced? I'm gonna fire the shit out of you if this is laced," he says in between bites.
You grab your coat from the chair and hang it up, smiling as you continue watching him from the corner of your eye. "I'm flattered, but no. I'm just a good cook." You fight back a laugh as he very clearly chokes on his food. Professionalism and all that, if there's even any left between the two of you.
"You're fucking with me." You plop down on the leather chair across from Roman, grabbing your thermos from your bag and taking a sip of tea as you shake your head. Wide-eyed, Roman gawks at you, then the food, and then you again. "You made me breakfast?"
You simply nod before pulling your laptop out. "I wasn't expecting you to be surprised by that. You're the one who always calls me mommy," you mumble out as you watch e-mails and messages immediately start to pop up. "Now finish up your food and get to work, before you upset mommy."
With a teasing grin you wait for Roman to shoot something back. Maybe something about you getting reported to HR, or about you wanting to suck his dick. Maybe even one of those jokes he makes about how his dad only hired you to be his personal babysitter.
But instead, you simply get,
"Yes, mommy."
Confused, you look up from your laptop to see Roman quietly eating his food. His cheeks are dusted a ripe shade of red as he struggles to cut his food up, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
Something that should've clicked ages ago, clicks. So carefully, you stand up and walk to stand next to the couch he's sitting on. Roman's head looks up at you, eyes large and lashes fluttering. His bottom lip stutters, as if he wants to say something, but it doesn't successfully form itself.
"Do you need me to help you with your food, baby?"
Your heart pounds in your chest as you await his response. Nervously, he scans your face, licking his lips as he mulls over his options.
"Yes mommy," he yet again mumbles out.
You take a seat next to him and wordlessly grab the fork and knife from his hand. "I hope you know I'm proud of you for landing that deal, baby," you tell him as you put a piece of the sausage on the fork. He doesn't hesitate to open his mouth for you, obediently letting you feed him in his office, in a building his dad owns.
"You made mommy so proud. When we finish up here, can you go sit at your desk for me?" He nods as you continue feeding him, which continues for another silent fifteen minutes.
After wiping his mouth for him, he quickly scurries to his desk, staring expectantly at you as you slowly make your way over. You place one hand on his chair, and the other on his desk, leaning over to stare at his computer screen.
Roman lets out a soft groan as your tantalizing perfume overwhelms your senses. All he can do is look up at you as you start up his computer for him. "You have an e-mail you need to write regarding a contractual agreement with a production studio. Can you do that for me?"
It's like he's possessed by you, charmed into a spell of utter submission as he can only mutter another 'yes, mommy'. He opens his mail, and right as he starts typing you tut.
"Mommy wants to hear you say what you're typing, so I know you're doing well," you tell him, hand moving down from his chair to instead rest on his shoulder. Wordlessly, he nods, clears his throat and with a shaky voice reads aloud to you.
"Dear Mr. Spruce, attached is a--" his voice dies in his throat as you let your hand slither down lower and lower, testing the waters as you fully bend over to reach his lap. "Keep going, sweetheart," you tell him, watching his twitchy hands hover over his keyboard.
As he continues where he left off, you carefully unzip his trousers, loosening the top button and successfully revealing a dark imprint showing through his white Calvin Klein boxers. "Attached is a, uhh, a copy of the contract, fuck."
The moan roman lets out as you pull his briefs down, allowing his erection to spring free and slap against his covered stomach, is whorelike. "Keep going, baby," you hum in his ear as you unbutton the bottom of his blouse a bit, wanting to avoid his pre-cum staining a perfectly good shirt.
"Please, mommy, fuck," he whines out as you let a singular finger drag over the tip of his cock, already causing his hips to rut up. "This e-mail needs to be sent today, Roman. Keep typing if you don't want me to get angry."
He nods fervently, shakily continuing to type as you carefully take his erect cock into your hands. He stumbles over his words, moans and hiccups filling your ears as you stroke him at a slow pace. You let your hand squeeze the base before going up, applying the perfect amount of pressure before rolling your thumb over his leaking slit.
Roman's eyes quickly turn glassy with welled up tears as he's made to endure your slow, torturous movements, and as much as he wants to please you, writing the e-mail would be the actual death of him.
His hands shoot away from his keyboard to clutch onto his seat's armrests. With a wanton moan he throws his head back, eyes screwing shut as you slightly pick up your pace. "You've been such a good boy for mommy, Roman, haven't you?" you ask him, voice dangerously low and dangerously close to his ear.
"Ngh-- yes, so so good f'r you, mommy." You kiss his forehead, earning yourself a cute whine. "W'na kiss you, please, mommy," he moans, head struggling to reach yours. "I'll give you a kiss after you finish the e-mail, alright sweetheart? For now," you tell him, grabbing his hand and leading two of his fingers into his own mouth, "I want you to be nice and quiet for me while I take care of you."
With a lack of hesitation he accepts his own fingers into his mouth, immediately sucking on them as his eyes flutter closed, and his moans grow strained. "Do you like it when mommy takes care of you, Roman?"
He nods, writhing under your every touch. He gasps around his own fingers as you pay extra attention to his tip, instant over stimulation taking over his body as his hips twitch up to meet your touch. "Mmh, would you let mommy fuck you?"
"Yes, fuck, yes," he groans out, removing his own fingers to instead find hold in his chair's armrests again. "W'na feel you around me, feel you-- fuck, feel you squeeze my cock." You increase the speed of your strokes, watching your boss fall apart in front of you. His hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and his lips are as rosy as they are glossy with spit.
The veins on his forehead and neck look like they're about to pop as you whisper in his ear. "You wanna feel mommy's cunt as she milks you dry?" All he can manage to let out is a desperate 'uh-huh', clearly close to reaching completion.
"'M gonna cum, mommy, I'm g'na-" Roman gasps out, cutting himself off with a drawn out moan.
"Cum for me, baby."
With a moan so slutty you could confuse it for porn, Roman finishes, thick ropes of cum shooting onto your hand as you stroke him through his orgasm. Even when he's emptied out you continue relentlessy, earning you a teary-eyed Roman as he begs for you to stop.
Hiccuping, he grabs your arm. "Too sensitive, mommy," he groans out, trying to catch his breath. You decide to have mercy on him, removing your hand and instead hovering it in front of him. "Clean mommy up?"
He simply nods before licking your hand clean, tongue lapping between your fingers as he practically sucks off his own semen from your fingers. With your hand clean, he lets himself sink deep into his chair.
"That was, uh," he mumbles as he mindlessly stares at you as you wipe his saliva off on your pencil skirt. You don't say anything, simply walk back over to your laptop. "I'm gonna finish up scheduling for next week, alright Roman?"
He blinks a few times, processing your words before awkwardly agreeing with yet another nod. "Oh, and make sure to write that e-mail," you add, turning to now fully focus on your own work.
"...yes, mommy."
#female reader#roman#roman roy#roman roy x reader#roman roy x you#romulus roy#succession#succession hbo#roman roy smut#roman roy x reader smut#succession fanfic#succession smut#hbo succession#assistant reader#boss roman x assistant reader
246 notes
·
View notes
Note
V parents x secretary/assistant reader 👀
"Happy Anniversary, sweetheart!"
You move the stack of papers on your desk as your bosses place a large pink box in their place. Heat fans off it from the candles atop the cake, your name and the words they shouted scribbled in cursive lettering across its decorated surface. Mrs. Carbone crosses her arm over her husband's chest.
"We're so sorry that we weren't here to start the day with you. This one here had us rushing to the wrong airport because he missed you so much."
Mr. Carbone kisses his wife's hand. "As if you didn't miss them yourself. I saw that little number you bought for this evening. Oh you'll look so stunning they might never want to leave the house."
"Thank you- but, isn't today your Anniversary?"
Those two were always like this. Putting you before themselves. Mr. Carbone nearly missed a meeting because your car got a flat tire and he video called you from the taxi that picked you up until you made it to the office. They argued that with how busy they were, it was only far to put you ahead since their job still usually had them in the same location. It was a lot of effort to put in for someone that just answers their calls.
He sighs. "Yes, but- it's also the same day we hired you, dear. We had so much work that we couldn't celebrate in a traditional way, but it was the day we treated ourselves to something much better than any old piece of jewelry and our sweet angel came into our lives."
His wife picks up for him. "You're the missing piece to our puzzle, dearest- and we're going to prove it to you tonight when we take you out to celebrate. We'll show you that we're not just your bosses, but the only ones you need."
"That sounds nice, but I have alot of work to do..."
She picks up the stack of papers and drops them in the empty bin. " Don't worry about the rest of your work for now. Your temporary replacement will take care of it for you while you're away. Please say you'll join us, dear. We've worked so hard to make our house a home for you..."
#Assistant reader#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere oc#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere scenarios#yandere insert#yandere headcanons#yandere blurb#male yandere#female yandere#poly yandere#yandere drabble
541 notes
·
View notes
Text
Author note: This is how I see Assistant reader and Diva Wally XD They are just making fun of Wally and acting sassy @frillsand
Worth noting, assistant reader song is "Disobedient" from steven universe
Assistant: good afternoon, sir! What can I do for you?
Wally: I need you to go to the coffee shop-
Assistant: Of course sir~ would you like a decaf and some bread for your cold heart?
*Wally just glaring at them*
Wally:....Yes. Be quick.
Assistant: Anything for you sir! Just say the word~
#welcome home actor au#diva wally#actor wally darling#actor wally darling x reader#Assistant reader#funny script#Reader is bullying Wally in sassy language
115 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’ve seen so many Miguel x non-spidey Secretary posts lately (and I’m EATING THEM UP) & not only do I work in an office but I’m also really into computers- fixing, building, troubleshooting, coding..
Of course as a woman no one ever expects me to be the one to know how to fix the problem, and now I keep daydreaming about these scenarios with Miguel getting frustrated about some computer / tech issue and being the one to hop in and fix it for him, and how he’d be impressed and maybe even attracted to that
If you’ve ever seen Green Arrow, I relate heavily to Felicity Smoak 😅
real. love when a woman can show off and do better than her male counterparts (it’s giving women in stem; me) 🧚🏽♀️✨🤸🏽♀️
miguel o’hara x assistant! fem reader
summary: you help troubleshoot a computer issue that miguel can’t seem to fix and you end up helping him, nonetheless, that makes him attracted to you: your intelligence and witty nature.
miguel encounters a frustrating computer or tech issue, and you, his partner, skillfully step in to save the day. as miguel struggles to resolve the problem, your expertise and ability to fix it effortlessly captures his attention and admiration.
initially, miguel might express his frustration, venting about the issue or trying different approaches to fix it without success. as you observe his struggles, you recognize the problem and the solution becomes clear to you. with a confident smile, you step in and quickly resolve the tech issue, effortlessly navigating the complexities that had troubled miguel.
“i got it, baby. just relax!”
seeing you smoothly solve the problem that had been causing him annoyance sparks miguel’s attraction and admiration for your abilities. he’s impressed by your technical knowledge and problem-solving skills, connecting the dots between your intelligence and the inherent charm you possess.
your capable nature and quick thinking captivate miguel, making him view you in a new light. the way you handle the situation with ease and finesse sparks a deep sense of respect, and he finds himself drawn to your intelligence and competence.
the act of innate tech prowess not only garners miguel’s attraction but also deepens his appreciation and love for you. your ability to navigate and resolve complex computer issues reinforces his belief that you are an incredible partner, capable of handling any challenge that comes your way.
aa a result, miguel might express his admiration and fondness, praising your skills and sharing his delight in having you by his side. “thank you, you’re hot for that, you know.” he might express his growing attraction, finding your expertise and problem-solving abilities incredibly alluring.
#spiderman atsv#spider man: across the spider verse#miguel o'hara#atsv x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x assistant!reader#assistant reader#🌱 lin writes#lin’s asks#♡´･ᴗ･`♡ lin answers
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Wouldn’t Be Complete Without You
Summary: Tom and Reader have known each other since high school. Best friends... never anything more... even though in secret he always wished something happened between them. As Tom became more and more famous he was in need of an Assistant so who better than his best friend? 20 years later Tom is married... but separated from his wife Katie Holmes, Trying to fix his marriage, raise a child, and work is becoming a lot.
Reader has known Tom since high school. Best friends never anything else... which is very hard for her, she’s been in love with him forever. Now, still best friends, hiding her love for him has become harder and harder over the years. She’s not an actress after all. Now, Tom needs her more than ever with everything going on in his life.
Read Chapter 2 HERE
Read Chapter 3 HERE
I Wouldn’t Be Complete Without You One-Shot Masterlist HERE
Here is chapter 1: Hope you Enjoy!!!
Chapter 1
Y/N’s P.O.V
“No! No. No. No” I said into the phone walking down the stairs, juggling folders, and my shoes which I still hadn’t had a chance to put on yet. “Jackson. No. You have been telling me for two weeks now, that the article is almost done.” I sighed “Jackson, listen” I groaned this man is being a pain in the ass and it’s much too early for this shit. I walked into the kitchen and saw Tom getting breakfast ready for him, and Suri. When he saw me, he gave me a bright smile.
“Morning” He said
“No. No. I’m tired of this, Jackson I need to have a rough draft of that article by noon today, or you will lose the right to print it at all.” I listened as he tried to babble some threat back to me “Jackson, the article was supposed to be printed a week after the interview, which was 2 months ago”
“Coffee?” Tom asked, I gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, and grabbed the cup walking around the kitchen
“Jackson, I’m done with your excuses noon today, or I will have the whole interview retracted and we will take it to literally any other magazine” I said and hung up the phone. I threw my phone on the counter and let out a groan
“Wow, He must of made you really mad Y/N” Suri said in an adorable voice and I giggled
“Don’t worry I’m not mad Suri”
“Nope, I’ve known Y/N for over 20 years… she’s not mad, you’ll know when she’s mad” Tom said with a chuckle, I threw a towel at him which he easily dodged and went back to making breakfast
“Ready for school?” I asked her, as I took another sip of my coffee
“Yup, I got to take lots, and lots of notes today there’s a math test on Friday and today is the test review”
“You’ll do great sweetheart” Tom said, he placed some eggs on her plate, and kissed the top of her head.
“Y/N?” she asked
“Yes?” I asked with a smile
“Will, you help me study for my test tonight” she said with a pouty face, that was very difficult to say no to.
“Sweetheart I would love to, but I have something to do tonight…” I looked at Tom and I didn’t miss the confusion that crossed his face before he went back to making breakfast for himself.
“Please, please… just a few minutes… you always help me study”
“Ok, fine… but only for a little while” she gave me a hug
“Thank you, thank you” she jumped up and started to run for the door
“Sweetie sit down, you haven’t finished breakfast”
“Dad I’m going to miss the bus” she said
“I was hoping I could take you to school today” he said
“Dad” she gave him a look, and I couldn’t help but giggle. She is only 8 years old, but she is a sassy girl… can’t even imagine what’s she’s going to be like as a teenager.
“Ok, I surrender go on” he said, she ran over and gave him a hug before running out the door. He turned back to the stove grabbed the pan and put some eggs on his plate. “I would offer you some, but I know how you hate eating breakfast” I rolled my eyes
“Someone is grumpy this morning” I said
“I just don’t like the idea of her riding the bus” he said
“Tom…”
“She’s only 8”
“Tom, she’s going to be ok. I know you have security following that bus”
“What?” he asked
“Tom, when are you going to learn I know all” I said with a smirk “I have access to your email, texts, phone calls, bank accounts… I see who you call, email, text, and pay… hell I know your social security number… could have stolen your identity years ago, and be living alone on an island” he rolled his eyes
“Very funny, you would miss me” he said
“No, you would miss me, you might be the extraordinary, bad ass actor/stunt man… but you wouldn’t be able to function day to day without me”
“Please” he said with a scoff
“Ok, what’s your social security number?” I asked with a smirk, he glared at me “I’ll try one easier what’s your phone number?” I continued to smirk as I took a sip of my coffee
“Ok, fine you win… jeez you are on a rampage this morning”
“Ok, save the dramatics for the screen Mr. Reacher” I said with a smile.
“That’s Jack Reacher” he said
“Ok, Jack Reacher get ready to go to work”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I am sitting in Tom’s chair staring at my lap top going through email after email, making appointments, and working my way through Tom’s schedule when my phone dinged
Can’t wait to see you tonight.
I smiled when I read the message from David. I’ve been seeing David in secret for a few months now… and when I say secret I mean secret to Tom. I know if I told him I was seeing someone he will go into all protective mode. It always annoys the shit out of me.
“What’s got you smiling?” he asked, I looked up I didn’t even realize they cut
“Oh, this pathetic excuse of an article Jackson sent me” I said giggling
“So what are we doing tonight?”
“Huh?” I asked
“You said you couldn’t help Suri tonight because we had plans, I didn’t realize we did”
“No… I said I had plans”
“You have plans?” he asked
“Yeah, isn’t that strange? I have a life outside of you”
“So what are Your plans?” he asked
“My plans are none of your business” I said, he smirked
“I’ll figure out your plans”
“What?”
“By refusing to tell me, you have given me a challenge… I’ll figure it out”
“You’re an idiot, go back to set” he kissed my cheek
“I’ll figure it out” he said walking off, I bit my lip and gently touched where he kissed me… even though we kissed each other on the cheek very often it always made me want to blush whenever he kissed mine. I walked closer to the set, and watched Tom. He is an incredible actor, and no matter how hard I try I can’t help but fall in love with him over and over again. It might sound strange but I have loved him since I was 17, the moment I locked eyes with him… I was done for
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
20 years ago
I am sitting reading my book for English class, as always I am drawn in by the beautiful literature before me. Shakespeare is my favorite author… so far, I know as I get older I will be exposed to more and more authors that are equally as good… maybe even better.
I am currently sitting outside on the bleachers away from everyone, not one you would call popular. I keep to myself that’s how I like it, since I live in a time where liking to read is known as a loser thing to do, I just accepted that fate and stay away from everyone.
“Excuse me” I looked up and locked eyes with Tom Cruise… he’s one of the popular boys in school. I looked around trying to figure out who he was talking to. This gorgeous man can’t be talking to the weirdo who likes to read, and wears glasses.
“Me?” I asked, and he chuckled
“Yeah, I mean there’s no one else here” he said, and I blushed “Y/N, right?” he asked
“Yeah… um that’s my name” I said hesitantly
“Well, we’re in the same English class, and I forgot to write down the assignment I was hoping you could tell me what it is”
“Oh, sure. One second” I put the book down, and reached for my bag to pull out my binder
“Romeo and Juliet?” he asked “Didn’t we read this one already?” he asked
“Um yeah… but the assignment is to pick one of the Shakespeare plays and write about it, and as clique as it is, this is my favorite… I think I’ve read it 10 times” I said, I blushed and reached for my binder again and he chuckled. Great now he’s going to start making fun of me.
“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.” I looked at him expecting him to be looking at the book but to my surprise we was looking at me
“You know Romeo and Juliet?” I asked
“Yeah, we already read it” he said with a chuckle
“But you know it by memory” I said, he just smirked
“I may have read it a few times myself”
“You like to read?” I asked
“Why do you seem so shocked?” he asked confused
“Well… I mean… um… I’m just going to let you copy the assignment and not say anything else” I said
“Is it because I’m popular?” I shrugged my shoulders
“Well, yeah”
“Eh, it’s not all its cracked up to be… I’m not really sure how I got wrapped up with them. We really don’t have much in common”
“Well, you dating the cheer captain probably has something to do with it… and the fact you are ridiculously good looking”
“Really?” he said smirking
“Did I say that out loud?” I said, and he just kept smirking “Well, now that I just made a complete fool out of myself, I’m going to leave…” I ripped out the paper in my notebook with the assignment. “Take it, I don’t need it”
“Hey, hey… you don’t have to leave… I’m sorry for embarrassing you. It’s ok, many people tell me I’m good looking”
“Now you’re just being arrogant” I said
“Well, I think you’re very beautiful” he said, and I’m sure my heart stopped “I think your glasses are adorable, and your hair is really pretty” suddenly I got angry, this is got to be a joke. One of the popular guys coming over here to complement me?
“You’re just here to make fun of me aren’t you?” I stood up, to walk away but he grabbed my hand
“I’m not making fun of you” he said, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling running through my body as he held onto my hand “I’m not lying, I’m not an asshole”
“Why?” he laughed
“Why, do I think you’re pretty?”
“Why, are you here talking to me? I’m a nobody”
“Everybody is somebody… social status means nothing… and I like you, you seem really nice. You never give me the chance to talk to you, you always run out of class before I can reach you”
“I don’t understand why you want to get to know me”
“Because you don’t care about me”
“What?”
“You are the only person in the school who doesn’t run to my side and want to talk to me”
“So you’re making it your mission to talk to me?”
“Not a mission… I just want to talk to someone who likes things other than popularity” I looked at him confused “I like school, I love reading, history, and drama. I love it all. I want to talk to someone who also like learning things, my favorite thing to do it learn new things” I opened my mouth to speak, when Jessica appeared
“Tom” she said in her annoying voice “Tom, why are you here, you’re supposed to walk me to practice” she said
“I was just talking to Y/N… we were talking about Romeo and Juliet” she looked at me with disgust
“You sit with my boyfriend for 2 minutes, and you already infected him with your nerdiness” she said with disgust “Tom, let’s go before she turns you into a complete nerd” she said giggling
“Hey, don’t talk to her like that”
“What?” she asked him
“You can’t talk to her like that”
“Why not? She’s a loser”
“No, she’s a person like everyone else… and no one deserves to be spoken to like that”
“Tom, let’s go”
“No, I’m going to stay here and talk to my friend, you can take yourself to cheer practice”
“Tom, if you don’t walk me to cheer practice then we are done” she said
“Ok, fine” he said standing up, I sighed he was doing so well then she threatened him with a break up and he followed her. I watched as she leaned in to kiss him, but he stepped back. “Ok, fine I’m breaking up with you.”
“You’re breaking up with me, because of this loser?” she asked
“No, I’m breaking up with you, because I’m tired of you being so controlling, being a bitch to everyone… oh, you having sex with the quarter back in the locker room”
“That only happened one time” she said, wow she wasn’t even going to deny it
“I know for a fact it happened 4 times” she looked shocked “So, goodbye” he said
“You’re going to regret this Tom, no one breaks up with me” she stormed off, and he walked back over to me and sat down.
“Are you ok?” I asked
“Yeah, I honestly feel free” he said with a smile
“So, what do you say… you wanna be my friend? I know for a fact she’s going to turn the whole school against me… I need someone on my side” he said with a chuckle. I smiled
“Sure”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I looked at myself in the mirror, putting the finishing touches on my makeup getting ready for my date.
“So I guess you going to the spa is not your plans for the night” I jumped
“Tom, you can’t just walk in here” I said
“It’s my house” he said
“Yeah, but this is my room. Which I pay you rent for” he rolled his eyes
“Please, that money you give me every month goes into your next paycheck… I would never let you pay me to live here” I groaned
“What, do you want?”
“Where are you going?” he asked, I pushed past him and went downstairs to get my purse
“Tom, you don’t need to know everything I do” I said as he followed behind me
“I don’t need to know, but as your best friend I want to know” I sighed he is never going to give this up
“I’m going on a date” he gave me a blank stare, after a few seconds he finally said “anyone I know?���
“No.”
“How, did you meet?”
“Through a friend” I said
“What’s his name?”
“David”
“David…”
“You don’t get his last name, because I know you’re going to do a back ground check and tell me all the reasons I can’t date him” he looked shocked
“No, I…”
“Tom, you’ve done that for every guy I have ever dated. Trust me, we’ve been seeing each other for a few months… he’s a nice guy” I said with a smile
“I just worry about you, You and Suri are the most important people in my life. If anything happened to you…”
“Tom, I’m going to be fine… now go help Suri study. I’ll see you later” I said walking out the door.
“Wait” I turned around
“He’s um… he’s a lucky guy, you look beautiful” he said. I walked over and kissed his cheek
“Thank you for not being over bearing about this” I said
“Go have fun” he said with a fake smile. as I reached the door, I heard “Just be careful, and be sure he treats you with the respect you deserve”
“I will” I turned around to look at him, but he was already headed up the stairs. David a really nice guy, and I really like him… but why am I so heart broken? When will I stop loving Tom?
So what did you think?
Next Chapter will talk more about Tom’s upcoming divorce.
@luckyladycreator2 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @blue-aconite @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @peaches-1999 @callsign-blue @dempy @roostersforevergirl @allivingstone01 @harper1666
#tom cruise x original female character#tom cruise love story#tom cruise running#tom cruise movies#tom cruise x female reader#tom cruise fanfic#tom cruise x reader#tom cruise#friends to lovers#y/n#assistant reader#eventual smut#eventual romance#mention top gun 1986#top gun 1986#Mention top gun maverick#top gun maverick#mention Jack Reacher#jack reacher#mention mission impossible#mission impossible#mission impossible rogue nation
146 notes
·
View notes
Note
Kiri spice 🥺🥺🥺 from you 🥺🥺🥺 please... 🥺🥺🥺 the spice must flow 🥺🥺🥺 (at a time appropriate for you)
at a time appropriate for you LOL YOU'RE SO SWEET 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 stop that's so cute hehehe let's think !! should we do something fun i wanna do something fun !!! i think not-so-sweet-actually-spicy sunday is going to bakugou, so we should give kirishima......something else........he deserves some fun 😊😊🩷✨🍓
#strawberry boy 🥺#✿ ask willow#i WONT HIM#how can we get him#friends to lovers#assistant reader#uhhhhh what are my other go-tos LOL something au LMAOOO
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Years Kiss ~Kate Woodstock xFem Assistant!Reader ~Holiday Bingo
Summary— A late night at Kate’s office, some scotch, and some New Year’s resolutions lead to new things… (Post Season 1).
Previous Day <—found here!
Holiday Bingo <—Here!!
Mommy… Masterlist
Requests & Prompt-List
Prompt- Resolutions
Warnings: light NSFW, implied smut, kissing, implied confessions of feelings, alcohol, alcohol consumption, implied age gap (all legal), etc.
Enjoy (;
You opened the bottle of scotch with a pop! And poured you and Kate each a glass.
It was late and you are both in her office. It had been a long day. Kate had spent all day arguing in court in the second Whitehall case. And you, as her new assistant, were always running to keep up with her.
You handed the woman her glass and she thanked you.
You did your best to follow what she said, keep track of her things, take notes, and learn from your mentor as best as you could. You usually ended up working insane hours, really early and then late into the night, but you liked it. But it was never easy…
Especially as her gaze racked up and down your figure as she sipped her scotch.
You sipped some of your own as a way to distract, your cheeks flushing a little. This made Kate chuckle.
“What…?”
“Nothing, you’re just adorable.” Kate hummed, taking another sip of her alcohol.
This made you blush even more.
“Am not…” you mumbled back.
“I looked at you for more than one second, and you start blushing… That’s adorable.” Kate chuckled.
You huffed in defeat, trying to avoid anymore blushing embarrassment. So you sat down in one of her lounge chairs. Kate followed and sat next to you in the loveseat. You only then noticed the time.
“Fuck Kate. It’s 1…”
Kate only then looked at the clock and her eyes widened.
“Indeed… Happy New Years, love.” She hummed, raising her glass out for you to clink.
You two clinked glasses and chuckled.
“So… any New Year’s resolutions for you?” Kate asked.
You thought about it for a moment.
“I’d… I would like to try to be less stressed.” You decidingly exclaimed.
You met Kate’s gaze after she didn’t respond for a moment after you spoke. Her gaze was fixed on your lips, but flickered back up to your eyes as you looked at her.
“You?”
“I…” Kate whispered, putting her glass down and coming closer to you, “Would like to kiss you…” she breathed out.
Your breath hitched and your eyes widened. Kate took your drink for you, putting it aside as you gulped.
“I’d very much like that…” you breathed out, your breathing already growing shallow.
This made Kate smile and lean in to close the gap. She slowly pecked your lips, starting slow and beginning to explore your lips. She bit your bottom lips every once in a while, making you shiver and causing your body to heat up more and more.
Kate’s left hand slid behind and around your neck, and her other landed on your thigh.
Her tongue then came out, swiping your bottom lip while she hummed. You understood her ask, opening your mouth enough for Kate’s tongue to enter your cavern. You let out an instinctive and breathy moan, as her tongue began to taste and explore your mouth.
It was still a slow pace, you were very much letting Kate take the lead. When she realized your hands wee frozen and unsure what to do, she guided them to her hips, humming in satisfaction when you had found her curves.
This was when you started to lose air, and Kate was as well, so she slowly pulled away. Her hooded eyes met your gaze. You breathed out a ragged breath and shivered.
There was only one thing going through your mind right now, and you could only say one thing,
“More” you whimpered.
~~~
Next Bingo Fic <—Here!!
Kate Woodstock Masterlist
Holiday Bingo 2023 Masterlist
Tag List: @storiesofsvu @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @vexed-jade @lunala-rose23 @sapphixwriter
#storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023#holiday bingo#holiday bingo 2023#Kate Woodstock fluff#Kate Woodstock x reader#Kate Woodstock#holly berry#anatomy of a scandal#anatomy of a scandal Netflix#anatomy of a scandal fanfiction#anatomy of a scandal fic#anatomy of a scandal x reader#assistant!reader#assistant reader#fem reader#fem!reader#female reader#female!reader#Michelle Dockery character#michelle dockery
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have a very silly goofy little ted fic on the the way 😈 the publishing house got a sneak peak of it alr tho
#chuckle sandwich#ted nivison#jschlatt smut#ted nivison smut#jschlatt#chuckle sammy#chuckle sandwich smut#ceo! ted#assistant reader#cough cough
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mafia au with Price perspective
Content:
Implied Violence
John, for the life of him, can’t believe he ever ran SpecGru without you.
It’s a hit to his pride to admit it, certainly. That an outsider has discovered a small conspiracy within his own organization less than three months into employment. That, apart from even that, he’s never been less scattered, having someone right by his side remembering details, appointments, bits of information.
Morning smells like Earl Grey and your perfume now. Steam mixing with whatever you’ve spritzed for the day, his own little aroma therapy. Revitalizing after however late the previous night dragged him out.
In general, you’re like a breath of fresh air. A smiley little charm of color and delicacy in his world of saturated shadows, blood and brutality.
Clean-cut dresses with patterned tights, soft-knit scarves. Lace accents and modest stilettos. Thin, sparkly jewelry and smart makeup. The scent of you drowns out the lingering burn of gunpowder; or maybe just transforms it into something heady.
John lingers on your hair. Smooth ponytails, tight coifs, intricate braids. Likes when it’s loose enough to brush you shoulders and neck, a little bounce to it as you toddle in and out of his office.
You’re gorgeous, he knows it like a gun in his hand or the stench of fear in the air. Has encountered (and indulged) in more than his share of stunning women. Women with beautiful smiles, and bright laughter, and sweet voices. Cunning women, too. Women who could outfox all but his best on any given day.
You have all of that in spades, though you’re not the first.
The difference, he thinks, is your sincerity. You’re never anything but honest with him. Even when you maybe shouldn’t be. Not that you share your opinion every time you have one, but if he asks for it, you’ll answer without pulling punches.
Respectful, always. Polite. But scalpels are elegant tools as dangerous as any dagger. You’re not cold by any means, but you’re made of steel. Precise and implacable in some ways. Have never hesitated too look him in the eye and cheerfully explain why he’s wrong.
That, he knows, is a rare commodity.
“I understand this is time sensitive Mister Graves, but raising your voice is not going to open Mister Price’s schedule.”
Your voice goes silky when you get like this. A finely draped, overly pleasant “no” in each word. A wall is still a wall no matter how finely it’s painted.
You’ve just gotten your nails done again, glossy wine red tap-tap-tapping over your customized keyboard. Whatever Philip is saying on the other end does not seem to be impressing you. Soap and Gaz are trying not to snicker. You shoot them an amused look.
“Well, he’s booked every morning for the next two weeks,” you continue.
John is not, in fact, booked every morning for the next two weeks. There are two mornings with two hours open and you’re serenely looking at them on your computer screen. He doesn’t correct you, interested to see how this plays out. You know he hates Philip and are gleefully taking advantage of that fact.
“Well, Mister Graves, a lot of people have time sensitive issues to bring to Mister Price,” you explain, a touch condescending now. “I’m afraid I can’t reschedule them just because you have… a trip to Glasgow, is it?”
You don’t sound impressed. Neither is John. You clear your throat, arch your eyebrows at him. Put up three fingers. He nods.
“I can schedule you in on the 3rd in the evening. Your assistant said you’ll be back by then.”
You blink, an almost smug curve to your lips at whatever is said. A pleasant shiver runs down John’s spine. Philip will just have gotten in then - a full day of travel after whatever business he’s been up to will put him at a disadvantage.
“Well, I’m afraid Mister Price’s next availability won’t be until the… 8th. So shall we schedule something for the 3rd? I can always call if he has a cancellation.”
A pause. Your eyes narrow into a mean little smile at nothing in particular. Practically glowing with satisfaction. Without your attention on him, he shifts a bit.
“Of course, Mister Graves,” you hum. “I can forward your people the details. Have a lovely day now.”
Soap and Gaz start laughing the moment you hand up. You huff at them in amusement, shaking your head, then turn to John.
“Was there anything you needed, sir?” You ask, syrupy sweet.
John snorts and finally approaches your desk, leaning his hip against the edge as he crosses his arms. You tilt your head to give him your full attention, a stray curl falling against your jaw.
“Since you seem to be on rampage,” he says, “I need you to get a reservation for Friday at Muse.”
You blink at him. “Muse? Sir, that’s… don’t they book that place out months in advance?”
He smirks. “Just use my name, luv. I’m sure you’ll have the rest under control.”
You don’t look convinced, but you slide your sticky pad over - light purple clouds, now. With a pink glitter pen.
“How many and what time, sir?”
“Six for eight o’clock.”
You hum as you scrawl it down, pretty round letters that shimmer under the office lights.
“Before you go,” you say as you set the sticky pad aside. “I have those inventory logs from the docks - as well as the incident report from security that evening.”
You pluck up a neat stack of papers, held together by a star-shaped paperclip. Already he can see pink highlighter on the first page, a little memo-note summarizing information for quick review at the top. Somewhere within, you’ve attached a pink tab to something.
“I’ve highlighted anything in the original shipment that wasn’t found in the inventory log,” you explain, tapping at one of them.
He hums, skims the summary, then starts rifling through the papers. Will never admit how much he appreciates the thoroughness, even if he’s comb through every detail himself just to be sure nothing has been missed.
“Oh, also,” you add, spinning the glitter pen between clever fingers, “I think we should maybe set up a camera near that back entrance to the warehouse.”
He pauses. The back entrance where they do the more gruesome aspects of “business.” Odd that you would suggest that.
“Why’s that?”
You hum. “Well, I’m no narc, but I heard from someone who works over there that one of the shipping guys smokes weed with his cousin in that area. Maybe someone saw them and realized that’s a good way in.”
You shrug, leaning back in your seat again. The computer dings, calling your attention. John shoots Soap a glance, who nods and quietly steps out. You don’t seem to notice, clicking your tongue at whatever you see.
“Nicely done, luv,” he says, voice warm in his chest. You beam at him, pleased as always when he recognizes your hard work. “I’ll call if I need anything else.”
“Yes, sir,” you reply.
Twenty minutes later, you tap lightly at the open door to his office.
“Got the reservation!” You announce, a funny little smile on your face. “They were so nice about it too. What are you, some kind of mafia boss?”
He chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.
How did he ever manage all this without you?
#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#oddly wholesome for a mafia au#mafia au#mafia boss price#assistant reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Bruce Wayne openly simping for Assistant reader?
"So," The blonde woman with too bright lipstick said, leaning in, queuing Bruce that shw was about to dig for something juicy- something to go viral.
And even if it irritated him, he couldn't be too mad. You were wonderful and people needed to know.
"About the special lady in your life," she trailed off. Prompting him. And Bruce didn't have to pretend to fluster just a little.
"Miss Y/N," he confirmed. "My assistant."
"Oh, a little office romance-"
"We've worked together very closely for a long time," he said, cheeks heating at the chorus of noises from the audience. "And she's incredible-"
"Well she's certainly very pretty-"
"Smart, and just- honestly I don't know what I'd do without her." His cheeks darkened a little more. You might think that he was laying it on a little thick. Trying to work around the less savory press calling you a gold digger. But. He was serious.
And now that the cat was out of the bag- well. People should know. You did great work. Continued to do great work. And he was more convinced than ever that he loved you.
"She really is wonderful-"
"So are wedding bells ringing?" she asked, "I know the ladies all over the country are just dying to know."
"We haven't discussed it yet," he said, avoiding mentioning he had a ring for you tucked away. One he'd had designed for you.
"So what you're saying is there's still a chance-"
"Absolutely not," he said smiling. "Y/N is one of a kind- I'm not going to let her go. Not unless she wants to."
357 notes
·
View notes
Text
Timeout: Janitor
Reasoning: swore in daycare
#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf moondrop#fnaf security breach#daycare assistant x y/n#daycare attendant x reader#teetharts
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Harry Styles Fic Recs: One Shots
------------ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍓🍒🍄 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ------------
Last Updated: 8/02/2024
Friends to Lovers:
Best Friends My Ass by @theonewiththefanfics
the edge of all we've ever known by @stylesharrys
overprotective by @satanhalsey
The one where Y/N is terribly oblivious and Harry is in love with his best friend - H.S by (unknown)
Famous! Reader:
POUR IT OUT by @watchmegetobsessed
Never Have I Ever by @watchmegetobsessed
goodbye by @peleksstuff
this blurb by @anettesblogs
late late show by @let-me-write-shit
celebrity crush by @inkslingerharry
a talk show and a surprise by @gucciwins
the instagram poll by @ifancyharry
Assistant! Reader:
Tomato - Tomato by @theonewiththefanfics
in which you’re harry’s assistant and harry needs to open his eyes by @havethetimeofyourstyles
shy by @moonchildstyles
ever since new york by @ifancyharry
two for the show by @nationalharryleague
Fluff:
sweet nothings by @pancakes4two
Update (2 parts) by @watchmegetobsessed
love her stupid by @finelinevogue
love me like you do by @stylesharrys
vogue beauty secrets by @avatar-anna
Wishing you were here tonight is like holding on. (CEO!H)** by @guardarecheluna
look into his angel eyes by @thestoryofusstan
Angst:
can't be with you anymore by @lovebittenbyevans
Smut: (click here for my smut masterlist)
trust by @daisyblog
BMWB by @cinemastyles-backup
#harry styles x reader#harry styles smut#harry styles x y/n#harry styles one shot#harry styles x pa!reader#harry styles x famous!reader#harry styles personal assistant#harry styles fan fics#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#harry styles writing#harry styles fic#harry styles fluff#harry styles fanfic#harry styles au#one direction#harry styles#harry styles masterlist#harry fic rec#harry x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry x y/n
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER sfw jing yuan x afab!reader
word count : 1.1k
content / cw : fluff, suggestive, making out, smug and teasing jing yuan, cutie yanqing
summary : being the general’s secretary is such a piece of work. why does he insist on getting handsy instead of doing his job? or: in which jing yuan has fallen for his emotionally constipated assistant and your lips look too inviting.
a/n: DISCLAIMERRR!!!! as a poc with melanin, whenever i describe the reader’s face as “hot” that is up for interpretation, it doesn’t necessarily mean i’m saying your cheeks are red. just wanted to put that out there have this piece until i can try to conjure up ideas for weak willed cloud knight mwah mwah
DARK CONTENT BLOGS PLZ DNI!!!
“general.” you enter the room with a stack of papers in hand, trying your best not to groan when you already see a pile of undone documents sitting there. you expected as much, yet you still sighed in disappointment every time.
your general— who was on the verge of falling asleep— immediately perks up at the familiar click of your shoes as you walk into his office.
“[name], you’re here,” he sighs out, almost fondly. you ignore it in favor of giving him a scolding look.
“you haven’t done a thing since i left this morning, general. do i need to hold your hand through every single file?” your eyes are fierce and your mouth is molded into a frown. jing yuan can’t help but savor your features despite that.
in response to you, he mutters out wistfully, “maybe you do.”
you roll your eyes and set down his papers, right next to the other stack. “general, you can’t keep slacking off like this. lady fu xuan might sweep your position from right under your nose if you keep this up.”
“does that mean i get to spend all of my free time with you?” he ignores your words in favor of bringing you in by the waist. you grip his wrist and try your hardest to pry it off of you.
“don’t you do that already?!” your expression is flushed and he revels in it. even though you try to act and look angry, he notices the subtle way you lean into him.
he reels you into him, bringing you around his desk to where he’s sitting behind in his chair, making you stand between his legs. you’re tugged into his chest and you stop yourself from toppling into his lap by hastily pressing your hands against his collarbones.
“general! you are so inappropriate!!” your tone is scolding.
jing yuan sighs, a faux look of sorrow painting his features, “didn’t i tell you to call me jing yuan?” his voice has a small adoring tone to it, something that you don’t feel like digging deep into at the moment, aware of what you might uncover.
“didnt i tell you that’s improper of me? i’m your subordinate. what would people think if i called you by your given name? they’d suspect you favor me.” you shook your head in exasperation, sighing once more— you seemed to do that a lot in his presence.
“but you are my favorite, if they suspected anything of the sort they’d be absolutely correct,” he says, tugging on your formal wear. you stammer, putting your hand over his in a feeble way to stop him.
“could you shut up for once?!” you exclaim, yet in a whispery voice in fear of others who walk by hear.
“hmm?” he asks slyly, a smirk curling his lips.
“d—do your damn work! if you do, i promise to call you by your name.” by your face expression, jing yuan could tell this is taking a lot out of you and you’re extremely embarrassed. he would feel bad if he didn’t find you so adorable.
“will you let me kiss you, too?” he leans up into your lips.
“that’s definitely asking for too much!!!” you exclaim, face hot, and no longer worried about who might be outside this door.
but as he rubs circles into the fabric of your clothing, his breath hitting your cheeks, his lips nearing yours by the moment, your will is beginning to falter. before you can even realize what you’re doing, your eyes are slipping shut as your hands are sliding up to his shoulders.
“after this i’ll do my work, okay? i promise,” jing yuan whispers. from that alone, you’re nearly broken out of your trance, but before a word is able to leave your mouth his lips lock with yours.
he’s humming into the kiss, showing his obvious satisfaction. your face is warm and you reciprocate the kiss eagerly, almost embarrassed by the fervor.
you were really kissing your general.
he was nibbling your lips, pinching your waist to get access to your mouth, making your mind mush. you couldn’t believe this was happening.
jing yuan is stealing the breath straight from your lungs, and they’re replaced with breathy whimpers. his tongue is leaving no place in your mouth untouched, but by then, you’re already putty in his hold.
you can’t conjure up a single coherent thought, all protests from before becoming blurred and pushed to the back of your mind. his hand is at the seams of your top, his cold fingertips ghosting under it to ease his hands onto your warm skin. you shiver in anticipation.
his thumb rubs your waist before it slowly trails up to the fringe of your bra. he’s caressing the skin under it slowly, building you up for the moment his hand ventures under. you’re leaning into him further, trying to subtly goad him into giving in.
he smirks into the kiss, thumb sliding under the hem. but a loud, eager knock makes you both jolt apart.
before you can even comprehend the situation fully, you’re already backing away from him and adjusting your clothing, smoothening everything over.
jing yuan is watching you fondly, a tinge of smugness swimming beneath his eyes.
“state your name and business.” he calls out, eyes still on you.
“it’s yanqing, sir!”
you’re making eye contact with him now, your expression filled with flushed fury. “i cant believe you!” you whisper shouted before grabbing the small hand mirror that yanqing left on his desk to check your appearance.
your eyes nearly bulge out of your sockets once you catch sight of your swollen lips. “y—you..! how— i..!!! ugh!!!” you sputter, pointing between yourself and your general before giving up.
your general does nothing but chuckle at your misery. “i got too carried away.”
“don’t you always!?” you growl, your finger against your lips as you somehow try to get rid of the red puffiness.
“general?” yanqing calls from outside.
due to your conversation, you both nearly forgot he was even there.
before jing yuan could call him in, you’re stalking towards the door. your hand grabs the handle, but before you pull it open, you look back to your general who’s smirking. “you better do your work, jing yuan. or this will never happen again!” you both sensed the lie in your tone, but one of you was too surprised to point it out.
you were only given a mere second to revel in his baffled look before you walked out, letting yanqing in.
“[name]!” yanqing calls happily. “can i come over to your place tonight?” he asks, face glowing.
you smile, patting his head. “of course you can. i’ll cook your favorite too, alright?”
yanqing cheers, “alright!! i’ll train as hard as i can, so can you please make dessert too?”
you give him a noise of confirmation, smiling at his joy before you’re walking off.
jing yuan could only watch the scene in envy, glaring down yanqing as he practically skips into the office humming a tune of “[name]’s making me dessert~”.
yanqing turns to his general, brow quirking at his troubled expression.
“what got your panties in a twist?”
“nothing.” he grits out. you had the audacity to call him by his name in your beautiful alluring voice, and invite yanqing to your house, in front of him!! next time he saw you it was more than your lips he was taking for his own.
a/n : anyone wanna be added to my jing yuan taglist? he’s been growing on me a lot so expect more of him too ^v^
#jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#hsr#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#honkai x reader#assistant!reader#🃏; saturn.writes
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Ever since New York
what it is: in which YN is Harry Styles's personal assistant, but maybe she should quit her job?
September.
Harry was running late. He knew he was running late because he didn’t even have the time to check on his phone how much late he was running. He hated being late. It wasn’t really in his character. In his manners. It’s not because he didn’t like people waiting on him, he loves being the center of attention; he loves having all eyes on him when he enters a room.
He just didn’t like being late because of the wasted time. Wasted time he took off work. And as of right now, work was pretty much his life. His purpose.
So being late, was kind of a big deal to him.
Y/N, on the other hand, was used to being late. And she, too, hated it. She hated the attention it came with it. But it was just in her nature, not because she wanted it, but because it happened to her. Like this morning. Her go-to local Starbucks was swamped with people, and she really wanted a pumpkin spice latte, since it was almost the beginning of fall and she still hadn’t had one.
So, it’s not like she could skip the coffee run. But said coffee run took longer than expected and made her late to her job interview. On top of that, once she exited the cafe, winning cup of coffee slightly burning her hand, it started raining, and of course she hadn’t bought her umbrella, because who brings an umbrella to a job interview?, and plus she really couldn’t be bothered to carry the weight of said object with her all around New York.
So, when she enters the Madison Square Garden Arena, she’s soaked. She almost can hear the squishy sound her Converse make as she walks, her socks feeling rather scratchy against her skin.
She jogs a little towards the backstage area, trying to recall what was said on the email that was sent to her with all the interview details. She’s breathing heavily through her nose, not really used to all the running she had to endure, and she feels hot. She’s positive the heater is on and the sudden contrast with the chilly September air makes her coat feel too warm and her jeans too tight.
She takes a moment to stop herself, trying to calm her heart and breathing down as she takes small sips of her drink. She’s already late, soaked, and sweaty, she might as well enjoy her well awaited drink in peace. She’s sure she’s not going to get the job, anyway. Leave it to her to think she’d fail before even trying.
Harry Styles personal assistant? Yes, she’s known to be a dreamer, but not to that extent. When her friend Anna had told her that her boyfriend had a friend that went to college with Jeff Azoff (she didn’t even know that said Jeff went to college), that he was looking for trustworthy people who could be fit for the job and that he had recommended YN, she thought Anna was pulling a sad excuse of a prank on her. Little did she know, about ten days later, she’d gotten an email from Jeff himself where he asked her if she was down for a little get-to-know-me interview.
Anna knew how much YN needed the job.Young, jobless, and living in New York didn’t really go together too well, and she knew that YN wanted to save as much money as possible to fulfill her life’s dream of studying art in Florence, so she pressured her friend to at least go to the interview. So that’s how she got herself in this situation, sipping her coffee while she regained her breath.
She’s so lost in her own train of thoughts that she doesn’t even realize she stopped in the middle of a hallway. She’s reading a flyer on the wall absentmindedly when she’s hit by a big, sturdy object that makes her loose her balance. She tries to grip her hands onto something to gain some kind of balance, but that only results in her coffee exploding from its own paper cup that she squeezed too hard, the cap flying off and falling on the ground.
“Fuck!” She exclaims as her bum hits the floor with a loud thump. She can feel the coffee on her coat and all over her hands as she raises her eyes from her pumpkin scented, soaked coat and lays her sight on what she thought was an object, but was, actually, a person. Her employer, more like. If she wasn’t convinced enough that she wasn’t going to get the job, she’s sure as hell now.
“What the fuck!” Harry, who had been running really fast to try and get on time to this stupid interview he had to endure, really hadn’t taken in consideration that someone could be standing in the middle of the hallway he was running down on.
So, he really thought it was safe to run and check his phone at the same time; big mistake.
It’s not like he was checking his phone for his own personal business, he was just texting Jeff that he was on his way.
“Who stands in the middle of a fucking hallway!” He shouts, but he isn’t even looking at her as he speaks. He’s looking at his shirt, that now has a big, beige colored, stain on it.
He grips the hem of the shirt with his hands and brings the stained part to his nose, which he scrunches immediately in disgust: “is this regular milk? God, it’s making me sick”.
YN really couldn’t get anything out of her mouth as she slowly gets up from her position on the floor and raises to her feet. She knows she’s supposed to say something, maybe apologize, but it suddenly feels like she doesn’t know how to talk anymore. She’s afraid, if she speaks, she’d blabber something incoherent and make a fool out of herself. Not that she didn’t already.
Plus, if she’s really being honest, he kind of sounds like an asshole, so she’s not particularly keen on begging for his forgiveness.
“If you were walking like a normal person, this wouldn’t have happened!” She murmurs, but he’s already too far out of reach to hear, otherwise she’s sure he would’ve said something else. She heavily sighs as she walks behind him, careful to leave a big amount of space between them so it doesn’t look like she’s following him.
When she enters the room, after knocking gently on the door, he’s already sat on the chair next to Jeff, a bunch of papers scattered on the desk in front of them.
She clears her throat a little and Jeff raises his eyes to her, giving her a small smile and gesturing to the chair in front of them.
Harry, arm bent at the elbow, one hand under the table and the other holding his phone, doesn’t bother to look at who came in until he’s finished reading his emails. He wouldn’t have to read his emails if he hadn’t wasted his time by being late, and mostly by being tackled by a wet puppy looking girl and her stupid pumpkin spice latte. The said pumpkin spice latte that is all over his designer shirt.
When he finally raises his glance, he’s met with a pair of big, wide eyes that remind him of those of a scared deer caught in headlights, and there’s no hint of a joke in his tone as he says: “fuck no.”
...
YN wonders whether she should quit.
It’s not her fault, really, and it’s not like she isn’t trying. She thinks she’s doing a fairly good job.
She’s trying really hard to make up for the coffee incident, and she begged Harry to tell her where he got his shirt so she could at least repurchase it for him, but once he’d told her it was Gucci, she realized it cost more than her rent so she let it go… trying the best she could to watch where she was going as to not repeat the accident again.
Harry is… well, he’s kind of difficult to work with.
She doesn’t know whether it’s because of the coffee incident or because he just doesn’t like her, but he’s really stand-offish.
He doesn’t talk much to her — only when the work demands it, and at first it was fine, YN understood why he’d act like that, but now it’s just getting kind of frustrating, especially because he’s making her job ten times harder than it already is.
She’s determined to show him that just because they started off on the wrong foot, she’s not just some clumsy little girl that had to have friends in the right places to get a job!
“Harry?” She trails off, peeking her head inside his dressing room.
He’s sitting on the couch, his back bent down and his hands fiddling with his shoe laces.
YN notices he’s dressed in his workout clothes (a pair of Nike shorts and a black tee), and she wonders whether he’s going to the gym? Maybe back at the hotel? It would be rather bothersome to go all the way back but she doesn’t say anything since it’s not her place.
When he hears her he raises his head to look at her, his brows hiking up high on his forehead. YN wonders why he’s even surprised to see her… she’s been on his ass for a month straight now, never really leaving his side unless when necessary.
“Hey” he greets her, nodding his head towards her.
“I finished everything you asked me t’do” she smiles, and if she wasn’t sure he’d find a way to piss her off, she would’ve felt at least somewhat triumphant. But she doesn’t.
Because she knows Harry doesn’t like her, so no matter what she does, it will never be good enough to redeem herself.
“Everything, really?” He asks surprised, “hav’you folded all the merch like I asked?” When YN nods he goes on, “ironed my outfit?” She nods once again, “and ‘s my schedule ready for tomorrow?”
“Yes.” She nods swiftly, “I even color coded it” she grins.
He seems to think a bit about his next words, and then, “okay, then. Help me work out, will ya?” he says, refraining himself from smiling a mischievous smile at the sound of her groan.
He’s sure it wasn’t intentional, and she feels extremely embarrassed and hopes he hasn’t noticed or at least won’t call her out on it.
“Let’s go, YN, I don’t have all day” he chuckles darkly, patting her on the cheek as he walks past her.
YN knows she should definitely quit.
...
“What the hell is this! I thought ye said it was all done?”
YN really feels like she could cry. She’s 22 years old and she’s on the verge of crying on her job. A job she begged God to get, a job that’s fundamental to get her in the art school she’s always dreamed of.
Things haven’t been easy.
Harry has been a dick to her every day and there’s only so much one can take.
He’s mean, rude, and always cold. He never smiles even when she brings him coffee (black with no dairy milk because it nauseates him), he never praises her (not even when she color codes his google calendar), and every time she enters a room he hushes as if he’s telling this great secret she’s not supposed to hear.
Today has been a long day.
She’d woken up at 5 am to grab him breakfast (not that he demanded it, but she felt as if she needed to in order for them to start the day on a good note — it hasn’t worked, it seems) and after that, she’d watched him workout at the gym in the hotel, the stuffy room nauseating her to the point where she had to beg him to turn the AC on to let the air change.
After his workout, she’d made her way to the venue.
He’s playing at Madison Square Garden tonight, and even if it’s not his first time, the tension could be felt in the air and in the way he huffed and puffed at everything she did.
It’s her job to take care of the merch stand inside the arena, no matter what city they are in, she has to fold the merch and make the stand presentable and organized, so when the staff comes in before the show everything is neat and clean.
She’s been doing this for a month now so she knows what Harry likes and how he demands it to be cleaned, and until now nothing about her work had disappointed him. So why is he acting like she’s this major screw up that can’t fold clothes?
It’s not the fact that he’s doubting her that hurts her, it’s the fact that he’s doubting her honesty.
It was all finished. She had folded all the merch like he asked and the stand was in perfectly good tidiness when she left it; sadly, that’s not how Harry had found it, much later and much closer to the show.
Maybe his pre show jitters made him a little more on edge, because the way he’s stomping his feet and pointing at the merch is making her feel really guilty for not doing her job correctly. Even if it wasn’t her fault, she should’ve checked before telling him she was all done!
“Harry,” she trails off, and she feels pathetic as she hears her voice come out all watery, “I swear, i did like you asked. Why would I lie!”
She’s almost begging and pleading him, her eyes stinging with the devious tears she’s trying really hard not to let fall.
“I don’t know why. But why is the stand in this mess? You know this can’t happen before a show, YN!” He reprimands her sternly.
YN feels like she’s a bad student getting yelled at by her teacher, and she gulps before saying “I know, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it now! Tidy here and then sod off!”
She nods her head quickly and hurries to get back behind the stand, folding the clothes as fast as she can to fix the mess quickly. She hears him walk away with a grunt, and once he’s out of her line of sight she feels the warm tears start falling from her eyes.
Finally.
She chokes down a sob as she keeps tidying up, wondering what the hell happened to the very organized stand she’d left.
Once she’s done, she double checks everything to make sure (just in case) and then she climbs over the counter to get out. She quickly makes her way to the dressing room as she hears the buzzing of the fans standing outside the venue, waiting trepidating for the gates to open, and she’s thankful she’d been fast, otherwise Harry would’ve fired her on the spot.
She gathers her work bag and tosses all her belongings inside, sneaking out of the door when she realizes Harry is inside the bathroom showering.
She doesn’t bother to call a Uber. She chooses to walk, hoping that the fresh air could soothe the headache that crying had left her with.
It’s a little bit chilly, but she welcomes the cold October weather with contentment, finally free of the heat weave that had populated her summer days. She wishes she could enjoy it more, and if it wasn’t for her mood, maybe she would’ve grabbed a little drink and a sweet treat on her way back. But there wasn’t anything sweet about the way Harry had treated her, so she walks sulkily back to the hotel, ready to pack her bags and leave. She’s decided. She doesn’t want to be his assistant for not even another day.
It had been a long day.
…
it’s past 11pm when Harry crosses the threshold of his hotel room, immediately tossing his sweaty clothes on the chair next to the small desk. His room is nice, big but not uncomfortably large to the point of making him feel lonely, and his bed is soft just the way he likes it, and he can’t wait to shower and get under the covers, but… there’s something he needs to do first.
So, he quickly showers and changes into way more comfortable clothes, a pair of black sweats and a grey treat people with kindness hoodie, slipping his vans on and walking immediately out of the door.
He’d like to say the uneasiness he feels in his belly is hunger (he had only soup for dinner), but it’s definitely not. He’s nervous. And he feels like a dick. And he doesn’t really know what to say to YN to make it up to her.
Should he say he was just tense because of the show? In his mind he knows that wouldn’t be too believable, because he’s been doing shows for most of his life, and if he acted the way he did before any of them, he probably wouldn’t have many friends.
As he’s searching for things to say, he hasn’t even realized he ended up in front of her door, the light beige wood dooming on him and almost making fun of him.
He closes his hand into a fist and knocks on the door, the pit of his stomach prickling.
YN opens the door almost immediately, and he wonders whether she was waiting for him.
He knows she wasn’t as soon as he sees her face fall once her eyes land on him.
She actually looks pretty cute, all snuggly and sleepy dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and sleep shorts, but when she looks up at him he notices her eyes are a faint red color, and his heart tugs in his chest when he realizes she had been crying.
It was never his intention to make her cry, and he really does feel bad.
“What?” She asks dismissively, her body still shielding the room from his view.
“Know ‘s late but… Can I come in?” He asks wryly, his breath coming out in puffs out of his nose as if he had been running.
“I don’t know” she ponders.
“Please, YN”
She takes a moment to reflect and then opens her door wider (he’s technically still her boss), turning to the side to let him in.
She closes the door behind him and waits for him to talk with her arms crossed against her chest. He doesn’t really know where to start, whether he should address the fact that she’s been crying or how he treated her, so he settles on “how are you?” And he feels stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth. She sniffles before shrugging.
“Sorry, that was stupid” he pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head.
YN doesn’t know what happens next.
She’s probably just tired, and maybe really hurt by how Harry treated her so she… she starts crying.
She feels her eyes fill with tears, stinging her water line. And it’s really embarrassing but she really doesn’t care. She figures he’s going to fire her anyway so she might as well let it all out.
She chokes down a sob, turning her head to the side to be as subtle as possible, but he notices straight away, walking quickly towards her.
“YN please don’t cry” he pleas, stretching a hand out to her to squeeze her shoulder.
“I’m sorry” she sobs, hiding her face and her tears behind her hands, pressing the tip of her fingers to her eyelids.
Harry really doesn’t know what to do. He thinks of himself as a good person and a good friend but this is different. He’s supposed to be her boss. But, he realizes, he’s also the reason she’s crying, and Harry is everything but cruel, so he tugs her by the shoulder into his chest, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, his hand caressing her back soothingly.
She sobs into his chest, and “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened with that stand. I did everything like you asked”.
“It’s okay, it’s okay” he comforts.
To really tell the truth, Harry had forgotten all about the clothes. Yes, he had been pissed about the conditions he found the merch stand in, but she had tided up quickly, so in his mind everything was forgiven. He hadn’t really realized how stern he had come off to her.
“YN I’m not mad about the merch stand. I’m so sorry I was so rude”
“No,” she’s quick to object, “I get it, you want everything to be perfect. Trust me I know! But I’m trying my best to make everything perfect like you want” she sniffles, pulling her face away from his chest.
She dries her face with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, sighing heavily.
“You’re doing a great—“ he starts, but she interrupts him immediately, “I don’t know how to work with you if you’re like this. You’re probably going to fire me for saying this but I can’t stand this anymore” she shakes her head to reinforce her words.
“Please don’t say that! I don’t want to fire you! I think you’re doin’ a really good job”
“Really?” She asks surprised, he’s never really told her that.
“Yes, of course! I’m so sorry I’ve been a dick to you, for this past month. I… I’ve got some trust issues, ya know? and It takes me a while to get accustomed to new people but… I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. It’s not your fault”
“I thought you kind of hated me” she admits.
“I could never,” he shakes his head, “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way”
“Yeah” she sniffles, “you really were a dick” she chuckles once she sees the surprised look on his face. “Plus I’m the only one who knows how to make your little soup” she adds.
“Oh, you’re right” he agrees, “I could never fire you, then. You’re trapped”
“Ah! You’re trapped” she giggles, the tears starting to dry on her face and a bit of color returning to her cheeks.
“But… really, I’m so sorry. I promise it won’t happen again” he says again, looking directly in her eyes to make sure she understands he’s serious.
“Okay” she says softy, sniffling.
“Now” he trails off, “I’m really hungry. Should we go get something to eat?”
October
“Halloween is not fun.” Harry says, crossing his arms on his chest like a petulant child.
YN rolls her eyes for what seems like the millionth time, a groan escaping from her parted lips: “but it is!!” She says again.
The discussion had been opened by Harry himself, claiming he didn’t understand all the excitement YN had claimed to be feeling about Halloween.
It’s not like he doesn’t like Halloween, he just doesn’t like… scary stuff.
He hates horror movies and he hates everything paranormal — sure, he loves Twilight (he’s watched it twice already since fall started) but that movie according to him is on a whole other level, and it can’t be described as scary as much as it is angst-y.
So, when he heard YN all giddy and giggly about this god awful day, he couldn’t just not say what he really thinks of it. Of course she’d love Halloween, Harry thinks.
“I think you just never truly had the whole Halloween experience” she shrugs from her position on the couch.
“Trust me,” he says seriously, “I did. Jeff forced me to watch all the Saw movies… it was awful. Couldn’t sleep properly until Christmas”
YN has to refrain herself from laughing.
“That’s not what I mean! Watching scary movies is like… the last thing on the list of fun things to do for Halloween”
“Yeah?” He challenges, turning around in his turning chair to face her, his skin dewy with the moisturizer he’d been massaging on his face.
“Yes! My favorite is pumpkin painting” she beams excitedly.
“Pumpkin painting? You have to have made that up” he furrows his brows.
“What! No! It’s been a thing for… Ugh I don’t know but it’s really fun and I always do it. Come see!” She pats the couch next to her and grabs her phone from the pocket of her hoodie, opening her camera roll and scrolling with her finger until she reaches last year.
He rolls his eyes at her, getting up from the chair nonetheless.
He doesn’t sit next to her, instead he towers over her and lowers his head to look at the screen of her phone, his shin touching her knees “ye have a lot of pictures on that damn phone”.
“Shh!! Here!” She opens the pic and shows it to him: a big pumpkin rests on what seems like a kitchen counter, its previous orange skin painted the brightest shade of pink, with some white splotches of paint that Harry thinks could be little ghosts by their pair of eyes made with two black dots.
“Wow… that clearly is something…”
“okay! — she sighs, locking her phone — I didn’t say I was good at it. ‘S just fun an’ I always do it with me mum!” She lifts her head and their eyes lock, his are a bright emerald green today, and she can see herself reflected in them, clearly, and she wonders for a moment how he sees her, what he thinks of her. It lasts only a moment, though, because he averts his gaze quickly, and just as quickly he straightens his posture, towering over her once again.
“‘S a cute idea” he agrees, taking a step back to put some distance between them.
YN nods in agreement, picking up her laptop to get back to work immediately.
Everything is green.
…
Harry is hiding something.
He’s been giddy all day and YN noticed first thing in the morning, when she happened to toe his shoe off when he was walking in front of her and he didn’t say anything (it’s the only thing that drives him mad. Like… really mad. He once snapped at her in front of everyone because she kept doing it — accidentally of course). Now, this is not to say Harry can’t have a good day. Since that night in her hotel room, things have been really good between them, and even if their relationship is strictly professional, YN wonders whether a friendship could blossom between them.
But, she’s also gotten to know him rather well in the two months she’s been working for him, and she knows when he’s hiding something.
It all started yesterday, when he pretended he had to run some errands alone, and demanded YN stayed at the hotel “to check no one broke into his room” which is a really fucking stupid excuse. When he got back to his room it was late in the night and YN was snacking on some chips, all snuggled up and cozy in his bed, on the verge of falling asleep.
Nothing seemed different about him since the last time she saw him, and she wondered for a brief minute whether he went out to meet with someone. Having a personal assistant be with you 24/7 can be really invalidating to any romantic relationship someone could want to establish.
If the only way harry could get a significant other (or even only a sneaky link, YN isn’t one to judge) was to hide from her and demanded her to stay back, it was really pathetic on her part. She pretends like the thought of Harry with someone else doesn’t irritates her. (She’s been stuck all evening in his hotel room while he went out and about!!)
“Whatcha doin’ in my bed, pet?” He teases once he enters the room, toeing his shoes off and leaving them by the door.
“Your bed is way comfier than mine” she grins, squeezing the comforter closer to her body.
“I bet” he chuckles.
“Yeah. But I’m the one working all day so I should get the comfier bed” she shrugs.
“You’re working?” He says, feigning shock as he brings a hand to his chest, “I thought you were my friend willingly!”
“Oh fuck” she sighs, “Jeff told me not to tell you… I must have forgotten”
“You really are a menace” he chuckles and she giggles, making room for him as he plops down next to her.
“What are ye watchin’?”
“Just an old episode of How to get away with murder” she says, pressing the “ok” button on the remote to show him the title.
“Never heard of tha’” he furrows his brows, repositioning himself so his legs are stretched out in front of him.
“You’ve never… what?! That’s crazy! This is probably the best tv show since Grey’s Anatomy went down hill!”
“Is it scary?” He asks, his brows furrowing on his forehead.
“No, not in that sense at least”
“Okay, then.” He gestures to the remote, “let’s watch it.”
She grins at him and nods, selecting the first episode from the menu. She presses play and when the show starts running, she grabs the chips she was previously nibbling on, putting them between their bodies and telling him that if he wants some to just take them.
The light from the tv illuminates the otherwise dark room, and YN has to refrain herself from turning her head to look at his profile.
She smiles Every time he gasps when something unexpected happens, and when the first episode ends, he begs her to put the second straight away. She does, and she listens to his calm breaths that almost lull her to sleep. The bed is comfortable and his warmth from beside her makes her feel safe and soft, and YN thinks it’s really nice he’s doing this with her. She doesn’t stop to wonder what it means.
…
It’s only the next day that YN gets to finally find out what Harry has been hiding.
Turns out, he actually wasn’t sneaking out to meet someone behind her back!
That morning Harry had knocked loudly on her door, tantalizingly sing-songing her name. When she had opened the door, still wearing her pjs and her hair all messy, she had furrowed her brows deeply on her forehead: “Harry!” She had reprimanded him, “it’s 7 in the morning!”
“Shh, lemme come in” he begged, jumping on his place excitedly.
He’s wearing his workout clothes and YN knows from his schedule that he has an appointment with his personal trainer at 7.30.
“What’s wrong?”
“Tonight, after the show, don’t make any plans. I need you for something very serious and very important.”
And YN would really like to tell him that it’s not like she’d ever make any plans that didn’t revolve around him, but she nods nonetheless, still a bit startled from his irruption in her room that early in the morning.
That’s how they ended up here, on the floor of his hotel room, probably more than thirty tubes of paint splattered messily in front of them, and two giant pumpkins resting between their legs.
“It’s officially a week before Halloween!” Harry had said, taking the pumpkin out of the bag and showing it to her triumphantly.
YN had gasped, her hands coming up to cover her mouth shockingly. Never in a million years would she have thought that was what he planned to do.
She feels warm inside, like a light has been switched up and is warming all her limbs, her chest, her belly. She doesn’t know if he realizes how much this means to her.
She carefully takes the pumpkin he’s handing to her and sits cross legged on the floor. He sits down next to her, and their knees are brushing with every movement one of them makes.
“Pass me the remote, please?” He asks.
She nods and grabs it from the bed behind her, handing it to him.
“I really need to find out who killed her” he says seriously, turning the tv on. “Is it Sam?”
YN chuckles sitting next to him, shaking her head as she bends her back down to grab a paint brush.
“I’m not tellin’ you! That takes away all the fun”
“I don’t care, YN. I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t tell me!”
“You’re so dramatic” she giggles.
She hands him a brush too and he thanks her with a mischievous grin, “if I end up dying from exhaustion it’s on you!”
“Shhh, ‘s startin’” she gestures to the tv and they both turn their head to it.
YN grabs a tube of red paint and opens it, squirting a small pump on the plate Harry had gotten her.
“What are ya making?” He asks her after a while.
“I don’t know” she shrugs, “I was thinking something simple like… red hearts”
“Tha’s cute” he agrees, “should I make it How to get away with murder themed?”
YN starts giggling, pushing his shoulder with hers, “that would be cute I guess”
“I’m just kidding. Although I think I could totally rock that”
“Yeah, you would” she agrees.
Harry ends up making it Mickey Mouse themed, drawing two big red ears a pair of big black eyes. He even helps YN with hers (she settled on something more minimalistic) which is ironic because even though she’s the one that loves art, she’s not really good at it.
Harry even snapped a few pictures to send to his mum, one with YN too, “wait, stay right there. Show the pumpkins!!”
“Harry the paint is still fresh I can’t — ugh fine!” She says lifting her pumpkin by the stem.
He leans in next to her, their temples almost touching, and Harry snaps the picture, a warm smile on his face, dimples showing and all. “Mum’s gonna love this.”
They watch a couple more episodes of this tv show Harry has gotten obsessed with, and once the clock strikes midnight YN is so exhausted Harry has to finish her pumpkin for her.
Her eyes are aching and she brings her fingers to press on them, hoping to relieve some of the burning.
“Everything all right?” He asks turning his head to look at her.
“Yes” she nods, “just forgot my glasses and the tv is hurting my eyes”
“Wait” he tells her, standing up on his feet quickly. He heads over to his bedside table and opens the drawer, rummaging through all the stuff he keeps inside it.
He sits back down after a minute, closer than he was before, and he shows her a pair of glasses, “here”.
She looks at him surprised, and “thank you” she says, grabbing them from his hand and sliding them on.
The glasses are comfortable, with a kind of thick frame, and she understands immediately they are a much better quality than hers.
She’s surprised she can see clearly with them, and she enjoys the much needed rest the glasses provide. She leans her head on the back of the bed behind her and sighs contentedly.
“Better?” He asks.
“Much better.”
“I didn’t know you wore glasses” he says after a while, his gaze still on the tv, “never seen you wear ‘em”
“Yeah” she agrees, embarrassed, “‘s just… don’t really like the way I look in them. Plus it’s not like I’m completely blind!” She hurries to add “they just get really tired and… yeah”
He turns his head to look at her, his brows furrowed on his forehead and his eyes scrutinizing her face.
She feels embarrassed under his gaze and she squirms imperceptibly in her spot.
“You look proper cute, actually” he says with a swift nod as to reinforce his words.
She blushes and prays that he doesn’t notice, mumbling a ‘thank you’ and quickly averting her gaze back to the tv.
She feels once again that warm feeling inside her, but this time it’s all over her body and it’s kind of overwhelming.
She debates whether she should leave or stay, but Harry’s presence is so comforting beside her, and it’s not like his comment has to mean anything.
It’s just a compliment.
Like a friend would to another. Right?
…
It’s not easy to avoid your boss.
Harry is everywhere, and it’s not like YN wants to avoid him, it’s just inevitable since she realized she actually has a crush on him.
On the span of these three days YN tried to tell herself it wasn’t that big of a deal; Harry is handsome, he almost resembles an angel, and he’s funny, and since he’s warmed up to her she realized he’s also nice, and caring, and soft. His smile is bright as the sun. His eyes are a peculiar shade of green she has never seen before and she noticed some nights they turn almost blue and she really would like to ask him why but she figures that’s way overstepping her boundary so she just keeps quiet every time she notices it.
And he’s many things all together.
And maybe if she avoids him this feeling will go away and everything will go back to normal sooner than later.
On the fourth day, he catches her on her way back to his dressing room and she almost has an heart attack. She had been so careful up to that point!!!
She was sure he was still in the shower, and she needed to grab her sweatshirt from the dressing room since it was starting to get chilly, but once she opened the door, there he was, sitting on the couch in only a towel and a sweatshirt. Her sweatshirt. She feels like she could combust any second.
“YN! Hey!” He cheerfully greets her once he notices her, locking his phone and leaving it next to him on the couch.
“Hi, H” she replies “just needed to grab my… sweatshirt” she clears her throat embarrassed, pointing towards his torso.
He looks down to himself and then his eyes widen in surprise, “this one’s yours? I’m so sorry pet, thought ‘t was mine!”
“Tha’s fine” she shrugs, trying not to dwell too much on the fact that he called her a pet name.
“You wan’ it back?” He asks, grinning.
“No, no that’s fine, I’ll find something else” but before she can even answer he’s already getting up, slipping out of the sweatshirt. He walks towards her and hands it to her, “hav’to get ready soon anyway”.
She nods and as he walks to his clothing rack where his outfit is already displayed, and YN lets her eyes linger for a brief moment on his back, his skin is already moisturized and YN wonders if it feels as soft as it looks, his little moles and freckles look like little constellations on the skin of his back, like the Gods blew stars onto it when they created him, and the color of his skin is almost lunar-like, despite how much sun he gets.
“Feel like I haven’t seen ya in ages” he interrupts the silence after a while, and YN watches as he picks up his tank top from one of the hangers and slips it onto his head.
She nods when he turns to her, the tank top is white and she can see the faint ink of his tattoos, “had so much work to do” she sighs.
“Are you sayin’ I’m overworking you?” He chuckles, and she’s quick to say: “no! No! Just… you know with Harryween coming up there’s so much stuff to do”
“Yeah” he agrees, “maybe tonight we can watch a couple of episodes…?” He questions tentatively.
YN would really like to say yes. She really would.
“I’m really tired, Harry…” she trails off, “maybe another night?”
“Yeah of course” he shrugs.
He leans down to slip on his leather trousers, tossing the towel on the couch next to him.
“But you can obviously go on though!! I already know what happened and…”
“What? No! I don’t want to watch it without you, that’s our thing.” He says, shaking his head and furrowing his brows, “‘s okay, I can wait a couple days. Even though I hav’to tell ya… i think I may be in withdrawal… i have been tempted to look up spoilers online”
She giggles at his playfulness, “Harry! I told you not to do that!”
“That’s why I didn’t! But eventually I have to know, I have a couple of ideas on who did it though”
“I’m not saying anything”
“Fine” he groans jokingly, “but you have to admit I deserve an award for putting up with all your torture”
“You’re so dramatic!” She laughs through her teeth.
“Yeah, yeah. Actually!” He starts, and he smiles a malicious smile YN is afraid to know what it means, “everything would be forgiven if you came shopping with me tomorrow”
“Harry! I have so much stuff to do! I can’t just ditch everything to go shopping with you”
“Please!!” He pleas almost like a petulant child, “I don’t want to go alone! ’s boring!”
“Jeff gave me so much stuff… you know how he gets when I don’t get things done” she sighs. She’s still holding the sweatshirt he gave (back) to her, and she squeezes it against her chest.
“Screw Jeff” Harry shrugs, passing a hand through his hair to comb it.
“He’s literally my boss”
“No” he’s quick to say, walking towards her and stopping when he’s in front of her, crossing his arms on his chest “Jeff is your employer. I’m your boss” he chuckles darkly, poking her in the stomach playfully.
“Uggh fine! I’ll come” she sighs, finally giving in to his demand. “But you’re buyin’ me coffee tomorrow”
“Deal” he nods his head swiftly.
She rolls her eyes and gives him a little shove on the shoulder, “see ya after the show! Good luck”
“Thank you pet” he says smiling at her softly.
She gives a small smile back and turns to walk out the door.
Once she’s out, the cold air of the AC hits her, and she’s quick to slip over her head the sweatshirt she actually came to get in the first place.
It’s still warm and his sweet musky scent lingers on it. She buries her nose into it and walks to find Jeff, telling him the new plans for the next day.
…
“I need you to do my makeup”
It’s the 31st of October, just a couple of hours before Harryween, and Harry still isn’t dressed in his Dorothy costume.
His makeup artist had texted him that she wouldn’t be available to work on Halloween (she has young children and couldn’t miss a chance to spend the holiday with them!), but Harry was so busy he hadn’t paid too much mind to it. He knew if it got to the point where no one else was available, he could do it himself. It’s just makeup, it’s not supposed to be hard.
Well, turns out, it is hard.
So, YN was really his last hope.
That’s why he knocked loudly on her hotel door, impatiently waiting for her to open it.
He heard her groan and then the sound of feet walking quickly towards him.
“What!” She says before even checking who it was.
“I need you to do my makeup”.
That’s how they ended up in her room, both sitting cross legged on her floor with a bunch of makeup bags opened next to them.
She would really like to be fussy and pouty about it, because not only he has her working on Halloween (she didn’t specifically ask for the day off, but she figured it wasn’t necessary for her to be at the entire show and he could’ve maybe let her off a little earlier, but, no — he had demanded she stayed through the entirety of the show) plus now she’s going to be late and she probably won’t have time to do her own makeup like she wanted specially for her costume!!
but… how can she possibly complain when he’s sitting in front of her like an obedient puppy, looking at her with curious green eyes every time she takes a product out of her bag?
This little crush she has on him is starting to get out of control! Instead of being annoyed at him she’s referring to him as a cute puppy! what is wrong with her!
“Wha’s that for?” He asks, pointing to the little tube of moisturizer she takes out.
“Moisturizer. This one’s lighter than the one you use because I have oily skin, but I reckon it could work as well” she pops the cap open and squirts a small amount on the tip of her fingers.
She warms it between her hands before looking at him questioning, silently asking for his permission to touch his face.
He nods immediately once he understands, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Hold your hair for me please”
He brings a hand to his forehead and tucks away the curls that fell onto it.
YN feels her heart beat hard against her chest as she gets closer to smear the cream onto his face, massaging his cheekbones and his sinuses to ease the product into his skin.
Harry sighs once she starts massaging his temples, and he makes sure to thank God in his head for his makeup artist and her children, because YN is really gentle.
She has really soft fingers and her touch is delicate, and he thinks she touches him like something fragile that is worth preserving. And he likes the feeling a little too much.
“All done!” She beams, removing her hands from his face (she even dragged the cream onto his neck!).
“Now I think we should do eyebrows” she takes out a small black spoolie and she starts brushing through his brows, “I don’t think yours need much filling.” She ponders, “maybe just in a couple spots we can make ‘em more thick if you’d like”.
He nods, “I’d like that”.
“Okay!” She grabs her pencil and draws a couple of stray hair.
“Now… I think mascara. And then we’ll do the blush. Close your eyes” she instructs, unscrewing the tube of mascara and removing the excess on the tip. She brings a hand to his eye and presses her thumb to his eyelid, that way she can see his eyelashes better.
She starts coating them with the mascara, first one eye and then the other repeating the same process as well, “your lashes are so long” she whispers, almost to herself, but she hears him chuckle through his nose nonetheless.
“All done!”
He opens his eyes and they flutter a couple of times, the new added weight of the mascara kind of uncomfortable at first.
Once he gets accustomed to it, he looks at her with his piercing bright green eyes.
YN looks between them as she closes the tube mascara; they’re the deepest shade of green today, and the black coating his lashes is only making them stand out more.
“Now?” He asks, and she tries to hide her blush as she tilts her head down to rummage through her bag.
“Blush! I’m thinking lots of blush!”
She takes out a bright cherry blush and “that’s way too red” he protests, furrowing his brows.
She shushes him immediately, “just trust me on this ‘s gonna look so cute!!!”
This time he doesn’t close his eyes, but he chooses to look at her.
The concentrated expression on her face is really cute, her brows are furrowed as she applies the blush with her fingers (she explained she prefers fingers because brushes can irritate the skin and cause break outs and she doesn’t want that).
He feels her apply some on his nose too, and he involuntarily scrunches it. She giggles at it and then keeps blending the blush on his skin.
From this angles YN can see he has freckles on his nose, and she doesn’t know why but it makes her feel warm. He seems more real like this, his nose sensitive and with a constellation of freckles on it. She wonders if they get darker in the sun, and she figures she’ll probably know once the summer arrives.
“Looks proper cute!!!” She sighs dreamily, looking at his face to admire the finished look. “I just know your fans will go crazy” she smiles softly.
He grins at her and gets up on his feet, heading for the bathroom to look at himself.
“Fuck I look good!” She hears him say from the bathroom, “the blush is my favorite part”.
She smiles to herself as she starts tidying her makeup back into the bags, even if it’s pointless really because she has to do her own now.
She gets up from the floor and checks for the time on her phone that’s charging on the bedside table, just as Harry gets out of the bathroom. She still has a hour and a half to get ready, and she thinks she could make it work.
“Thank you again, pet” he smiles down at her and she suddenly feels too hot and breathless.
“It’s okay, no problem at all!”
…
It’s past midnight once YN finally returns to the hotel.
A guy from the crew named Peter (he’s a light technician) invited YN to go out with him and his friends, but she’s so tired she declined politely, promising to make up for it another time.
She doesn’t really know what Harry is doing, and she wonders if Peter invited him as well and if perhaps he declined, but she doesn’t have to wonder much because not even half an hour later she hears a knock on her door.
She’s already wearing her Halloween themed Snoopy pajamas, and if it was any other situation she’d probably feel embarrassed, but she’s so tired she just can’t wait to get to bed.
When she opens the door she sees it’s Harry, and she notices — happily — that he’s wearing his pajamas as well (His consist of a pair of plaid pants and a grey hoodie, but still a pajamas nonetheless), and his face is free of the makeup she’d put on him that same afternoon.
He holds in his hands two full grocery bags, and she looks pointedly at him.
“Can I come in? My arms are starting to get sore”
She nods and moves to the side to let him in, closing the door behind them after.
“So.” He starts, placing the bags on her bed, “I was about to go to bed when I realized it’s still Halloween”
She furrows her brows at him, “I thought that was like the whole point of Harryween?”
He chuckles at her, “of course, I know. That’s what I’m saying exactly.”
“I don’t follow?”
“I had you work on Halloween! You told me before how much you love Halloween and I didn’t think to give you the day off”
“Oh, Harry. It’s okay, really! Don’t worry about that, it’s stupid!” She says, but not without blushing a little.
She knows it’s just decent courtesy to remember conversations one shared with another, but she says a lot of stuff and she didn’t really think he would remember! Plus, he doesn’t really like Halloween, so she thought he’d actually regard her interest in celebrating it as annoying.
“It’s not stupid” he shakes his head, “I thought to remedy as best I could. But I have to confess, Jeff did the grocery shopping so I can’t take credit for it.”
She giggles and walks closer to the bed, peeking her head to look inside the bags, “it’s okay. You were busy”.
He laughs and nods, spilling the bags onto the bed. An undefined amount of sweets fall on the bed, and YN gasps at how many choices of candies and chocolates Jeff picked out.
“Fuck! i think he got every possible candy available” he snorts.
She agrees with a laugh, “what are we supposed to do with all this food?”
“I know it’s not the best but I thought we could watch a movie and eat it? But if you want to go to sleep that’s fine I mean I-“
He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels embarrassed.
What was he thinking? Walking into her room like a maniac with two bags full of candy and expecting her to be down to watch a movie with him. She works for him. This is entirely not appropriate and he’s aware of that, but… when he saw her on the side of the stage, singing mindlessly along to Golden, dressed as Princess Belle he realized how cruel he had been to take Halloween away from her.
Not only had he deemed it as “not fun” right in front of her enthusiasm, he also specifically requested for her to work, and even if she had not expressed formal complaints, she probably should have.
Because he had been a dick.
So, in his quick pee break, instead of freeing his bladder, he texted Jeff if he could do him a big favor and grab every single candy he could get his hands of, recommending specifically to get as many choices to pick from as he could (he didn’t know what YN liked and he couldn’t risk it).
YN quickly interrupts his train of thoughts, “okay!!! But I get to choose the movie though”
“Okay, -- he nods amused -- Deal. But — he says, picking up the remote from the coffee table to hand it to her — Nothing too spooky”
YN gets comfortable on the bed next to Harry, the candies resting at their feet. He has a package of Sour Patch Kids resting on his tummy, and every time YN wants one she has to move her arm, and it brushes against his chest.
She feels… weird. It’s weird to her that he would do something like that, and she doesn’t know what to make of it. If it was any other case, if a guy did something like this for her, she’d immediately thought of it as a date, or a way to show interest in her but with Harry… it’s different.
She doesn’t think he likes her like that.
Maybe he sees her as a friend? She doesn’t think she’s particularly fun, but he always chooses to hang out with her, even after a tiring day…
She gets shaken out of her thoughts once she hears him gasp from next to her.
“Oh God, what happened?” She looks at him pointedly.
“I told you no scary movies!” He whines childishly, closing his lips in a pout.
“Harry! ‘S Caroline! It’s not scary!” She can’t help but giggle at him.
“It’s scary to me” he huffs, taking a candy from the package and popping it into his mouth. He takes another one and shows it to her, which she gladly takes from his fingers.
“I promise if you get past the scary part it’s really good”
“Fine” he nods, “I’ll watch it. But please tell me once it gets scary again”
She smiles fondly at him and nods back, “yes, don’t worry about it.”
...
“You know, you were right… once you see past the scary scenes it’s actually a pretty good-“
It’s after the movie has finished that Harry realizes YN has fallen asleep next to him.
He rolls his lips into his mouth to bite back a smile, grabbing the remote to shut off the tv.
She must be so tired.
He has her working non stop while she should be out and having fun at her age. She isn’t that much younger than him, but he knows how much can change from your early to your late twenties.
He also knows he should get up from the bed and go sleep in his own one, but… he’s really comfortable right now and she’s really warm next to him, and she smells like candies and vanilla, the perfect scent to lull him to sleep.
He’s also very tired, and before he knows it, his eyes are closing shut and his mind is already wondering to faraway countries, with cotton candy skies and chocolatey grass.
The air smells like vanilla, and he doesn’t know if he’s dreaming or if it’s her next to him, he just knows he was definitely wrong; Halloween isn’t as bad as he thought.
it's hereeee and it's halloween themed ;))) (!!!!!) let me know what you think and if you want part 2!!!!
taglist: @gem1712 @jerseygirlinca @lexiecamposv @ameerakane20 @lovrave @mema10 @sunshinemoonsposts
#assistant!yn#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles one shot#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles x reader#harrystyles#harry styles imagine#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#one direction#harry styles one direction#harry styles x you#harry styles x oc#harry styles love on tour#love on tour#harry styles tour#assistant!reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
incorrectbttfquotes
incorrectbttfquotes
tebbyclinic11
Tebby Chiropractic and Sports Medicine Clinic
blackvillar
Nothing?
beckresuscpr
Amor por CPR
msimslegacy
Miladysims Legacy