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softboywriting · 3 years

Text

Little Moments | Billy Russo

Summary: Tension in familiarity leads to confessions after a terrifying event. [Billy Russo x Reader] [Violence] [Blood] [Gunshots] [Assistant!Reader] [Alternate Timeline - Castle family not mentioned/never happened] [Fluff]

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This is my first Billy Russo fic, we’ll see where this goes yeah?

Just over a year ago you took a position as an assistant with Anvil. The job wasn't too bad, basically you took care of paying the bills for the facility, keeping inventory of supplies and equipment, scheduling appointments and keeping track of who was deployed where and why while keeping tabs on them and their duties while on deployment from Anvil. You had done work like this before, managing in a grocery store in your early twenties. It wasn't all that different, just instead of managing products you managed people. No the job was not difficult but your boss. Well. He was something else.

William "Billy" Russo was a force to be reckoned with. Intelligent, handsome, cunning. His smile could kill. His eyes...they were something all their own. To say Billy was attractive was an understatement. But attraction was only part of the problem. The other part is his sharp tongue, quick wit and dry sarcasm. A year of sharing an office with him had put you on edge. You never know what he would do next, what he would say next. Some days you wish you could fuck him right there in that expensive leather rolling chair behind his desk. Other's you want to rip his leg off and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. The two of you got close, going back and forth with playful banter almost daily. It's like you’re always on the edge of being something more, if one of you would just make the first move.

Things finally come to a head one day when you've got a particularly large workload on your plate and Billy has decided to go on one of his little rants about who knows what, you tune him out. He is always coming into the office and talking to himself. Maybe he is talking to you, but you rarely participate in the conversation. At first you thought he was on a call, using a headset or something, but no. He just talks, and he talks a lot.

"Can you shut up for five fucking minutes?" You snap, head pounding from eye strain. You've been at the computer for six hours now, and you're trying to transcribe a call from one of his units over in Turkey about a job. Billy's mindless chatter has gotten on your last nerve today.

Billy stops, falling silent somewhere near his desk. The room becomes thick, heavy with tension as you both remain silent. You've never snapped at him, not seriously. You've told him to go fuck himself but in a playful way. This was too real. Too loaded. He's your boss. Fuck.

You're not one to apologize when you're not actually sorry though. You remain silent, knowing he expects you to say something. He wants you to take back your words but you won't.

"How much work do you have left?"

Your eyes flick from the screen to him. He looks flushed. Angry? No. His eyes hold no malice. He looks aroused. No way. A cold sweat runs down your back. He must be livid. "I'm transcribing a call right now then I have to make copies of some invoices, order new foam guards for the weight benches and-"

"Finish the call. Then go home."

"Yes, sir."

Billy pushes off his desk and exits the room, leaving the door open behind him. You know that he isn't happy with your little outburst. You just don't know why he won't say as much. He looks turned on if you didn't know better. Or do you?

The rest of the call goes smoothly now you don't have to pause every few seconds to rewind and listen to it to make out exactly what the unit leader was saying over Billy's chatter. You wrap up and head out as you were told. On the way out you pass Billy with a few of his higher up employees.

"Good night, Mr. Russo." You say softly with a hand raised in a wave. You always call him by his last name around other people. It's not much of a gesture but you want to keep things calm and civil. He nods, face unreadable, and gives a little raise of his hand as well. More than you expected, and it puts you at ease that you might keep your job.

_____________________

"I'll have my assistant arrange the payment from you after the contract is finalized."

You stop by the door to the meeting room to listen in. The men in the room with Billy are potential clients, men who want private security for multiple locations. You had greeted them when they arrived and showed them to the meeting room. They rubbed you the wrong way. You met a lot of men and women in your year at Anvil, a lot of different people from different walks of life. None of them made you as uncomfortable as these men had. You step away from the door and go to the office. If Billy wants to get in bed with them then let him. That's not your call.

"Let me grab the paperwork from my assistant." You hear through the closed door and Billy steps in, closing it behind him. "Can you give me a new client contract?"

"Sure." You pull open the file drawer on your right and thumb through the papers. "They must be very promising work."

Billy leans on the side of the desk, quirking an eyebrow up at you. "What's got you so mouthy lately?"

You cut him a glare and he chuckles.

"You don't like them?"

"I'm not fond."

"Why?"

"They feel wrong." You extract a thick booklet of paper and hand it to Billy. "But let's not pretend you care what I think, Mr. Russo."

Billy rolls his eyes at the formalities. "You know damn well I value your input just like I do from any other person who works for me. Talk to me."

You sit up and lean back in your chair, eyes on his, your heart pounding. He's looking at you so attentively it's hard to focus. Those eyes, so soft and warm staring back at you. Fuck. He could make you spill the truth about everything without trying. "They give me a bad feeling. The second I greeted them they just...felt bad? I can't explain it."

"We work with a lot of morally gray people in our line of business, sweetheart." Billy leans back, hands spreading out on the desk. His hands, fuck they're nice. "But I will never ignore a gut instinct."

"So you won't sign the contract with them?"

"I'll do some more investigation before I do. Talk to a few friends in high places."

You nod and slide forward to sit at the computer, closer to him. What a mistake. You can smell his cologne, his heat is pouring into your knee beside his. It takes everything in you to keep your eyes forward on the computer. He reaches over and lays a hand on your shoulder, making your body flush with heat. Why did he have to touch you?

"Yes?" You ask, sparing a quick glance up at him. Mistake. He's staring down at you with those beautiful obsidian eyes. God they're so big and he's such a-

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For telling me. You've never come to me like this before about a client. I like it."

"Oh. Well it's your business so-"

Billy leans in close to your ear and you feel that cold sweat return from when you told him to shut up. This time it's not fear or panic, it's arousal? The closeness is getting to you, your head is swimming. "You're just as important to me as this company. Remember that."

You nod.

"Couldn't hear you."

"Y-yeah. Yes. I will."

He pushes off the desk and slides the papers he had been leaning against closer to you before he picks up the contract and smacks it against his hand a few times. "Will you set up a meeting with the Rodgers Estate for later?"

You grab a pen and scribble it in your planner. "Got it Mr. Russo."

"One more thing." He says and you look up. His hand is on the door handle. "Have a drink and relax? You're a little wound up lately. And drop the Mr. Russo shit, call me Billy when we're alone. You know that." He smiles and gives you a wink before slipping out the door to meet the clients in the hall.

A drink? You need a week off, a spa getaway and a new career. Billy Russo is driving you up a wall and he doesn't even see it. Or maybe he does. Shit.

_____________

A week later. Just before eight in the morning you're settled into your desk, ready to start going through some new shipment invoices when you hear a commotion downstairs. It isn't unusual for the trainees to get out of hand from time to time, fights break out, things get heated. You dismiss it and go about your work.

"Six new treadmills? What the hell are these people doing to them?" You sigh and type the invoice number for Sports Equipmentz LTD into your system. "Billy is gonna get an ear full for this one."

There is more comotion and you look at the closed door. Another fight? Billy doesn't stand for that kind of stuff on the training floor. He would have stopped it by now. Actually, no one should be in the facility except you and Billy this early. What the hell is that noise.

You push up from the desk and go to the window beside the door, peeking through the blinds. From what you can see nothing looks out of balance. Then you hear gunshots and your stomach churns, cold and sick. There is no live fire allowed in the facility. All firearm training is done off site.

"Fuck." You flip the lock on the door and look around for something to barricade the floor to ceiling window beside the door. There is nothing you can move alone. You flip off the light and head to your desk, grab your phone and dial Billy's number.

No answer. You sink down under the desk and pull the chair in close. Maybe if someone does get in they will think the office is empty and move on since the desk looks unused. You reach over and shut down the computer tower, then reach up and pull down all your paperwork to clear the desk.

Thumping from the bathroom on the other side of the office makes your heart pound. Someone is on the upper floor with you. A gunshot. Tears well up in your eyes. Why didn't you let Billy get you a conceal and carry? Why didn't you do that gun training six months ago? Because you're afraid of guns and you couldn't trust yourself not to hurt someone on accident. Fuck. Fuck!

The door handle jiggles. You cover your mouth and try dialing Billy again. The phone disconnects as soon as it rings once. Goes straight to a voicemail. You can't remember if he is with a client today. There are voices outside the door, then a gunshot so loud you know it's just on the other side. You close your eyes, press your face into your knees and try to imagine you are invisible.

The door opens, not with a kick, but unlocked and you can't breathe. You can't move. They're moving around the room. Billy's desk first. Papers are rustled, then the footsteps grow closer. You shrink yourself smaller, arms in pain from holding your knees so tight.

"If they took you, I swear to God I will-...there you are."

You look up and Billy is knelt down, arm on the desk as he looks at you. He's a fucking mess of what you can only assume is blood and God knows what. "Billy, oh god for fucks sake." You cry and he shoves the chair away to pull you out onto his lap.

Never have you clung to someone so hard in your entire life. You press your face into his neck, hand digging into his back harshly as you cry in relief.

His hand slides up your back and cradles your ribs on the left. "Hey, hey." He murmurs softly and you stop crying so hard. " What did I promise you when I hired you?"

"That I would be safe. That no matter what I would be safe and a-all I had to do was paperw-work."

"That's right." Billy pulls you back gently, tugging your shirt to guide you. He looks horrible, but none of it seems to be from his own injuries. "Aw, fuck. You're a mess now."

You look down at your shirt and it's got blood on it. "Oh god. Oh god wh-who..."

Billy shakes his head. "Don't think about it too much." He presses a kiss to your temple, hand on the back of your head. "Close your eyes, don't look at it."

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you later."

"I didn't know what to do."

"Hey, no, no shh. You were a good girl. You stayed quiet, stayed down and locked the door." He rubs your back and pats your side. "We're going to get out of here and I'll handle the situation from the apartment."

You nod and peek your eyes open for a second. "It's bad out there isn't it?"

"It's not pretty. I'll get you outside and we'll get out of here, don't worry."

"Okay."

_____________________

You had never been to Billy's place. Never had a reason to go. It's more industrial than you expected, modern industrial chic. Posh. Very expensive obviously, but that was Billy. Well dressed, well spoken. He looked the part to play the part.

He set you up in a large bathroom and gave you clothes, a shirt and a pair of pajama pants. They might fit alright, Billy is quite a bit slimmer than you are in the hips and thighs.

You look in the mirror and clench your jaw. Your peachy colored blouse is ruined, your sweater is fucked. Your face. God your face has someone else's blood on it. Across your cheek and nose where you had pressed your face into Billy's neck.

There is a pile of washcloths and you grab a few, soaking them and scrubbing at your skin. You pull your clothes off fervently, desperate to be clean of strange blood. The shower is large, open and ready to be used. So you do. You get in and turn the water on and sit on the floor, processing. It was all a blur. Everything happened so fast. Was it even real?

Some time passes and you see the door open. The water is getting lukewarm as it cascades over your skin. You don't even care if he sees you naked you're so out of your own head.

"I'm going to head to Anvil. The police have arrived to investigate the break in."

"Okay." You croak, not looking away from the wall opposite you.

"You can stay." Billy walks into the room and leans over the shower to turn the water off. He squats down beside you and offers you a towel from the warmer by the toilet. "Mind getting out of there for me?"

"Billy, what happened?" You look over at him and he looks...normal. He's in a blue sweater, dark jeans, boots. It's the most casual you've ever seen him. He's always been a suit man to you. Here he looks like a guy you'd meet at a bar and share a few beers with. The guy you'd take home and laugh about jokes with from stupid comedian on TV. It's strange, but warming.

He helps you up and wraps you in the fluffy gray towel. "Your feeling? About the clients I met with?"

"Yeah?"

"You were right." He slicks your hair back off of your face. "They got wind that I was looking further into why they wanted my employees. It was for a human trafficking operation. I don't do human trafficking, and I was going to decline the offer. Some snitch at the Rodgers Estate let it out that I was asking questions. I guess they thought they could clear their tracks by killing me."

"O-oh."

"Mmm. I didn't think they would do something in broad daylight but here we are. Amatures." Billy steps back and runs a hand over his hair. "I called the police, said that I got a notification that the building had been beached through an unauthorized entrance. It's not a lie. Technically they did. Thankfully I wasn't there."

You step out of the shower and grab the clothes he gave you from the counter. "But you were. You...you killed those men."

"No, I incapacitated them." He crosses his arms and pulls his lower lip between his teeth. "It was me and you or them. We were the only ones in that facility. I wasn't going to let them hurt you."

"H-how do you explain that?" You sit on the toilet and Billy leans on the doorframe. "What if-"

"That's my job sweetheart. You worry about yourself, here. I gotta go meet the cops." He pats the wood a few times and looks out into the hall. "Call me if you need anything. I promise I'll answer no matter what."

You nod.

"I'll be back later."

____________________

Hours pass and you become familiar with the apartment. It's huge, the penthouse of a very expensive building downtown. It has two bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen and dining area, a living room, a balcony that wraps around and has a fire pit and a small private pool. It's more luxury than you could ever afford. Not that Anvil doesn't pay well, because it does. This is just far more than you could ever make.

In Billy's room there aren't any personal touches. It's clean, picture perfect even. Like at any moment someone could come and take photos to sell the place. There is a picture on his bedside table, the only thing that isn't straight from a design catalog. It's you and Billy with a few investors. Your first meeting he ever brought you to. How could you forget? He bought you the dress literally an hour before the meeting because yours ripped in the back. It was possibly the most embarrassing thing you've ever done in front of a boss. He didn't make you feel bad or anything, he simply asked your size, stopped at a shop on the way to the dinner and got you a dress. It was just that easy, that normal.

You set the photo down and lay back. Your eyes close and you imagine what Billy is like outside of work. Of course you've gotten a taste of that, all the banter and shared stories. Nothing too deep but enough to keep conversation going. You probably shared more than him, way more. It was like when you started talking to someone you couldn't stop. You just, information overload the poor person. Usually people get spooked away, or they tell you that they don't care or don't need to know. Not Billy. He just listened, gaze fixed on you while you talked. Maybe that's why you like him so much. He listened. He cared.

"Cozy?"

You roll over and open your eyes to find Billy in the doorway to his room. "You're back. I didn't hear you come in?"

"There is a bed in the other room y'know?" He chuckles as he goes to sit at the end of the bed and pull his boots off. "Or do you just like mine because it's bigger?"

"Oh yeah, yours is much bigger. Comfier too."

He hums. "Go through all my shit?"

"You know it."

"There's my girl." He looks back and he's smiling. "I was getting worried about you. You seemed pretty shaken up."

You sigh and shake your head. Of course Billy doesn't think about how you've never been in a dangerous situation short of falling from a tree when you were ten. To him gunfire and blood were in a day's work as an ex marine special operations. "I think I'd be more worried about you."

Billy turns and crawls up the bed, leaning with his head on his hand, elbow propping him up. "Why's that?"

"Been a while since you saw live action hasn't it? You're not worried about PTSD?"

"I've seen plenty of action since I got out. I know the risk I take running the company I do. It hasn't happened before now but it was bound to eventually."

"Right, yeah."

"Do I scare you?"

You shake your head. "No, not really. I know you've done things, seen things that I couldn't even imagine. It's part of who you are, who you were."

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that. It was them or us. You know that right?"

"Y-yeah. I know." You pick at the bedspread and he bumps his hand against your knee.

"You alright? I tried to keep you...away from it. I know you aren't like everyone else."

"I'm not ex military you mean." You feel your chest tighten. "I'm a civilian. I can't defend myself."

Billy sits up and lays a hand on your back. "Hey, hey."

"I shouldn't stay at Anvil. I should just go somewhere else. I can't do this, Billy, I'm scared what if this happened again?" Tears spill over and down your face. "I-I can't."

"I will never let anything happen to you." He turns your face to look at him. He's warm, his lips plush, eyes on yours. "You can work from home if you want. I'll stop by and bother you and make you tell me to shut up." He smiles a little as your lips turn up at the telling him to shut up part. "You like that?"

"I don't know, but I think you do."

Billy laughs softly, his smile wide. "Maybe I do. You noticed that?"

"Maybe." You wipe your eyes and he brushes a stray tear away with his thumb. "Why do you care so much? I'm just your assistant."

"Because I love you."

"W-what?" You hiccup as your breathing stops for a moment.

"You're like family. I trust you with everything, I tell you everything, you're my girl." Billy runs a hand through your hair. "I can't lose you."

"I don't-...I'm just-"

His lips press against yours and your eyes fall closed. It's an innocent kiss, soft and loving. "If I read this wrong all this time, you gotta tell me." He murmurs, head pressed to yours.

"No, you didn't. I just, you just caught me off guard."

"Yeah?" He smiles, nose scrunching up against yours. He places his fingers under your chin and tilts your head up to kiss you again briefly. "You're sure it's okay?"

You nod and he pulls back to kiss your temple, holding his nose to your hair and cradling the back of your head.

"Get some rest, I've got some calls to make." He climbs off the bed and heads for the door.

"Are you leaving?"

"No."

"Good."

He walks back quickly and kisses your cheek. "I mean it. Get some rest."

"I would if you'd just go already."

"Oh. You think you can just get rid of me?" He crawls back on the bed and you fall back as he straddles your hips. "You think you can boss me around huh?" He starts tickling your sides and you squeal, thrashing under his surprisingly strong hold.

"Stop! Stop! I yield!"

Billy stops and bends over, bracketing your head with his arms. "I knew you'd be fun to torment outside of that stuffy office."

"I hate tickling."

"Oh that's very obvious. I've made a mental note, highlighted it in yellow and everything." He bumps his nose against yours. "I'm gonna find everything that makes you tick."

You reach up and run a hand over his hair that's flopping forward from lack of product. "Expect to get as much as you give."

"Oh I do." His lips ghost over yours as he speaks. "I look forward to it."

You shove his head to the side and he flops over. "Don't you have calls to make?"

"Maybe."

"Go make your calls. I'm going to stink up your bed and rifle through your drawers more."

"I expect no less." He says, getting up and going to the door once more. "Let me know if you find anything you like, yeah?"

"Get out!"

He just cackles and you close your eyes. This is really happening. Funny how the world works in mysterious ways. You never thought you'd be the one to snatch Billy Russo off the market but here you are, and you're pretty damn proud of it.

The end

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Header image by delicate-venus

Thank you so much for reading, please reblog to support content creators. -A

#the punisher #billy russo #ben barnes #ben barnes characters #the punisher series #the punisher netflix #punisher fic #billy russo x reader #billy russo fic

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shin-city · 4 years

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Damage Control [Katsuki Bakugo x Reader]

pairing: prohero!bakugo x sidekick!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

word count: 3.7K

tags: sexual content, oral sex (female & male receiving), praise kink, semi-public sex

a/n: well that’s one way to overcome your fear of elevators

“Fifty-thousand dollars in damages!” you reiterated to the fiery man in front of you, who made no effort to mask his indifference towards what you were saying to him. He didn’t even bother looking at you until you’d thrown the invoice from the city on his desk, offering you a stale, blank stare. That look usually served as your warning that you were on thin ice, but you were too agitated to heed it.

“Are you even listening to me right now, Bakugo?”

The blonde rolled his eyes before setting his brows into that signature frown. “It’d be damn hard not to with all the yelling you’re doing.”

You let out a sardonic laugh, not believing that him of all people had a problem with yelling. Working with him for so long was the reason you even yelled so much in the first place. “Well, don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Bakugo grunted lowly, glaring as you chastised him. He hated when you reprimanded him like this. He hadn’t put in all of that hard work over the years to become a pro hero, just to have to answer to others for his actions. Especially you- his sidekick. While he didn’t treat you as his lesser just because of your title (not as much as he used to, anyways), he still expected you to treat and speak to him respectfully.

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry?” he scoffed. “Just send the invoice to All Might; he’ll take care of it. He always does.”

“We can’t just keep expecting him to cover the costs of you being irresponsible. And even if we could, it isn’t just about the money. It doesn’t look good. What if you get in trouble with the Hero Public Safety Commission? What if your hero ranking goes down, or worse- you get demoted entire-”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched as he slammed a fist on his desk to shut you up, your body jumping and your eyes widening consequently. He didn’t mean to startle you so much, but he did relish in the submissive way you looked at him as a result.

“Do I pay you to bitch at me about how I look to the public?” he challenged.

You blinked at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about.

“Pay me? You don’t pay me anything! I’m your sidekick, not your publicist.”

“Exactly,” he retorted. “So why don’t you quit acting like one, and leave it to the people who are supposed to handle it- like a good little sidekick.”

This particular comment had you fuming, and he could tell as you stood there with your arms crossed and a frown on your flushing face.

Cute, he thought, before dismissing the rumination.

“My quirk is explosion,” Bakugo continued. “Shit is going to get blown up. If you don’t like it, then maybe you should’ve applied to work under a different hero. There are plenty of sidekicks who would kill for the opportunity to be where you are right now.”

He was only bluffing. He’d never say it to you, or even himself, but Bakugo wouldn’t want you working with another hero; nor would he want to work with another sidekick. His hero office had plenty, and yet he chose you. He always chose you. Though, clearly you weren’t confident in his loyalty to you, because his words had tugged at your heartstrings more than he intended.

It wasn’t like you only cared about how he looked to the public. You cared about him in general, which was why you were so hard on him about things like this, but clearly he didn’t realize that.

“M-maybe I should’ve!” you snapped, desperately hoping that he hadn’t seen the glint of moisture in your eyes. “I would’ve taken Izuku up on his offer if I’d known you’d be so difficult to work with!”

Bakugo blinked at you, his head tilting to one side as he registered what you’d said. Midoriya had asked you to be his sidekick after graduating from UA, and several more times after that. You’d never mentioned this to Bakugo before, and you were smart not to. Anything that had to do with your green-haired friend triggered Bakugo to some extent; which was why saying that was the perfect ammunition to retaliate his comment- even if you didn’t realize it.

“What the hell do you mean you would’ve ‘taken Izuku up on his offer’!” he called after you, but you were already turning on your heels, storming out of his office and toward the elevator. You hated taking the elevator, and on any other day you would’ve taken the stairs; but at that moment you needed to get as far away from Katsuki Bakugo as fast as you could. You weren’t sure you’d be able to live with yourself if he saw you cry.

Over the pattering of your rushed footsteps, you hadn’t even heard him exit his office in pursuit of you. All you were focused on was getting out of there, and you were grateful that the elevator was already there on the fifth floor when you pushed the button to summon it. You wiped a stray tear from your eye as you stepped in, pressing the ‘1’ button, followed by the button used to close the doors; but they only managed to close halfway before a hand appeared between them, halting the process.

Before you knew it, an irate Bakugo was stalking into the elevator. He glowered at you as the doors shut behind him, though his expression eased when he noticed the tears that threatened to spill onto your cheeks.

“H-hey...why the hell are you crying?!” Bakugo stared at you incredulously, not believing the sight in front of him. He’d never seen you cry before.

You wiped furiously at your eyes, turning your back toward him as you did so. You made no effort to respond to him, especially once the elevator finally started moving. He frowned as you ignored him, glancing at the elevator’s digital display of what floor you were on. He watched anxiously as the numbers passed.

4...

3...

2...

He couldn’t let you get to the first floor. He worried that if you left in this state, you might not come back. Or worse: you’d go running to Deku. He couldn’t have that.

Bakugo clenched his hand into a tight fist and before he could stop himself he was punching through the control panel of the elevator, ripping out some of the wires as he retracted his fist. The elevator immediately screeched to a halt, stopping just between the second and first floors. He turned to face you, who was now looking at him with sheer panic etched on your features. You were scared enough of elevators already, and this was like a nightmare come true.

“Have you lost your damn mind?!” you yelled as the ominous sparking of the control panel died down.

“Have you? What’s with all...this? Over an invoice?” he matched your tone, gesturing wildly at your distressed state.

You exhaled an exasperated sigh, shaking your head at him. “You don’t get it, do you? It isn’t just about the invoice.”

Bakugo took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down for your sake. He knew he could be difficult to talk to at times and he didn’t want to say anything that might scare you off. Though, it wasn’t like you could go anywhere anyways. “I don’t. Tell me so that I can fix it.”

You gave him a quizzical look, perplexed at the sudden decline in the volume of his voice. It almost made you want to give in and tell him what was on your mind but in fear of inciting another argument, you decided against it. Besides, you were now focused on the illusory feeling of the elevator walls closing in on you. You stood in the corner farthest from Bakugo, trying to increase the distance between you two. He noticed this and began to slowly creep toward you.

“Y/N.”

His firm tone coupled with his intense gaze had butterflies erupting in your stomach; of course now of all times.

“It doesn’t matter,” you uttered. “Could you please just get us out of here?”

“Is it what I said about you working with another hero?” he asked, completely ignoring your request but hitting the nail right on the head.

You didn’t answer him, instead crossing your arms and staring at the floor. Your body language was more than enough to confirm that he was correct, though, and he took one more step to close the gap between you. His close proximity had your head reeling as his scent enveloped you; it was almost comforting. You were so caught up in it that you hadn’t even noticed his hand cautiously reaching toward your face until he was already gripping your chin, tilting your head to look at him.

“Answer me.”

You let out a shaky breath as your eyes met his. Bakugo had never touched or looked at you like this before. Yes, he was frowning as usual; but it was out of concern instead of anger. The expression softened once you nodded, answering what he already knew. Still, his fingers never left your face.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he grumbled. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Do I?” you retorted, cursing yourself as your voice broke. “You think I don’t already know how expendable I am? How easy it’d be for you to replace me? You don’t have to throw it in my face.”

“I wasn’t trying to-”

“I’m sorry for always nagging. I’m sorry for caring. But if you don’t, someone has to, Bakugo,” you vented. “If we’re even close enough for me to call you that. Sometimes I feel like I should just address you as Ground Zero like everyone el-”

Bakugo’s grip on your chin tightened before he pressed his lips to yours, his other hand moving to the wall to support his weight as he leaned into you. You were far too stunned to kiss him back, but that was to be expected. The man in question had never even shook your hand before, let alone kissed you. He broke the kiss shortly thereafter, pressing his forehead against yours as his breath fanned over your lips.

“Don’t. Don’t ever stop calling me by my name,” he articulated, pulling away a little to gaze into your eyes and make sure you understood how serious he was. “You hear me? I’ll always be Bakugo to you. I don’t give a fuck what everyone else calls me. You’re not everyone else. I...just wanna hear you say my name.”

Your eyes began to tear up again, but this time out of relief. This was all you ever wanted from him: to act like he cared. To show you that he cared, and that you were more than just a sidekick to him.

You bit your quivering lip, nodding as you looked up at him. You meant to keep eye contact, but your gaze dropped to his lips. You desperately wanted him to kiss you again, and you weren’t doing the best job at hiding it.

Bakugo chuckled and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. He wanted to do much more, but not before making sure that he’d made things right with you. “I’m...sorry, okay?”

As simple as it was, his apology meant the world to you; especially since he wasn’t exactly known to be someone who ever apologized. It was actually quite humorous.

“You’re sorry?” you quizzed, stifling a laugh.

“Shut up, dumbass,” he retorted playfully before pressing his lips to yours again.

If someone told you just a few minutes before now that you’d be kissing Kastuki Bakugo, you’d have thought they were severely deluded. But you couldn’t deny how right it felt.

He caressed your cheek and lowered his other hand to your waist, clutching it softly. He was so delicate with you, touching you as though you’d break if he didn’t restrain himself. It was such a strange contrast to how he usually was, but you didn’t mind one bit.

“Bakugo,” you whimpered into his lips as you clutched his shirt, prompting him to slip his tongue into your mouth as a response.

He groaned lowly into the kiss as your tongues danced. You slipped your fingers underneath the material of his tank top, raking them along his soft abs and relishing in the warmth of his skin. He decided to match your pace, dropping his hands to your ass and squeezing it with much less caution than he’d touched you before.

His lips left yours, pecking them once more before attaching them to your neck. Your small moans were music to his ears as his tongue laved at your throat.

“I want you-” he groaned into your skin. “-need you.”

He hooked his fingers into the loops of your jeans, pulling your hips into his. And after feeling what pressed up against your thigh, it became very evident just how much he needed you.

“I’m yours, Bakugo. Please.” You sighed as he rolled his hips against you: so tantalizingly slow.

He kissed his way back up your neck, across your jaw and to your lips, kissing you once before gripping the hem of your top. He dragged the material up, your arms automatically raising to aid him in removing the garment. He was grateful that you’d forgone wearing your costume that day, knowing it’d be a pain in the ass to remove; though he’d worn his, save for the mask, gloves and grenades.

His rough hands slid up your torso and cupped your breasts through the material of your bra briefly before reaching around to unclasp it. He threw it to the ground before reaching for you again, calloused fingers tweaking your hardening nipples.

You grew exponentially wetter when he enclosed his lips around one, his fingers tugging at the other, and then alternating. He did this back and forth until you were a whining mess.

“Katsuki,” you mewled, subconsciously grinding your hips into his. “Please touch me.”

“Aren’t I?” he murmured into your chest, and you could feel his smirk. Though, he didn’t torture you for long, dropping his hand to the waist of your jeans and undoing them. He lowered himself onto his knees as he dragged them down your legs before throwing them atop the pile of discarded clothes. Your panties were torn off before joining the pile.

You squirmed as Bakugo’s eyes raked your naked body; his mind memorizing every inch in case this was the last time you’d ever let him see you like this (though he was confident it wouldn’t be). He traced his fingers up the length of your leg before gripping your thigh and lifting it to hook your leg over his shoulder.

“So pretty,” he breathed as he looked up at you, eyes lowering to meet your dripping core. “Even down here.”

Your mouth fell open as he flattened his tongue against your core, groaning as he tasted you. You whimpered as he licked you slowly, stopping to kiss your folds every so often before increasing his pace, devouring you like his life depended on it. You entangled your fingers in his hair, alternating between pulling at his roots and rubbing circles into his scalp.

He’d grunt every time you tugged particularly hard, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel heavenly against your clit.

“Bakugo~” you moaned out once he sucked harshly, sensing that you were already almost there. “Ngh- feels so good. So close...”

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my mouth, princess?” He pushed his tongue into your cunt, burying his face between your thighs as he pressed his thumb against your clit and rubbed circles into the swollen bud.

“Oh my god, yes,” you squeaked, fingernails scratching at his scalp as you neared you’re release. “Coming!”

Bakugo growled into your pussy as you came, the vibrations from his mouth intensifying the sensation tenfold. He watched in awe and adoration while you writhed above him, licking you clean. Once you came down, he rose to his feet, kissing you to allow you to taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

He pulled away to hastily undo his harnesses, pulling off his shirt in the process. You eyed him hungrily as he stripped. Your mouth practically watered at the sight in front of you. You waited until he reached for the button of his pants, catching his wrist in yours to stop him before sinking to your knees. He panted as you groped him over the fabric, rolling his erection into your palm.

“Off,” he groaned, his hand coming down to rest atop your head. “Take them off.”

You obliged, popping open the button and dragging his pants down to around his thighs. You looked up at him as you pressed your tongue against his shaft over his boxers, causing him tug at your roots.

“D-don’t tease me, dumbass.”

You bit your lip as you hooked your fingers into the band, pulling his underwear down slowly. Your heart rate quickened as you revealed his length, inch by inch as you pulled them down his thighs. He was big; so girthy, and the precum that leaked out of the tip only made him look that much more appetizing.

He hissed as you took him in your hand, pumping his length slowly before licking the head of his cock. You lapped up his arousal before taking him in your mouth and sucking as your tongue swirled around the tip. You quickly grew eager for more, taking him fully into your mouth until you were sputtering around him.

“Shit,” he swore, petting your head. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

Bakugo’s words encouraged you and you began to bob your head up and down his cock, humming around it. He gathered your hair into his fist, pulling it as you deepthroated him.

“Ngh, so good. So fucking good,” he moaned, thrusting into your mouth.

As good as it felt, if there was one place Bakugo wanted to cum more than your mouth: it was inside you. Therefore, as he felt himself nearing his release, he reluctantly pulled out of your mouth, groaning at the sight of the saliva that connected your lips to his cock.

“I need to fuck you now,” he informed you as he pulled you up by your shoulders. “Turn around. Hands on the wall.”

You did as he said, turning to press your hands and face against the wall of the elevator. You chewed your lip in anticipation as you heard him stroke his wet cock behind you before pressing the tip against your folds.

“Katsuki,” you moaned, pushing back against him in a desperate attempt to feel him inside of you. “Please.”

“Please what, princess? What do you want?”

Whimpering as he ground the head of his cock into your clit, you responded. “I want you to- ahh~, fuck me. Please Bakugo.”

You must’ve appeased him, both of his hands coming up to grip your ass and he slowly pushed into you. His name fell from your lips in a long, drawn out moan as he filled you. He stilled once he was entirely in, relishing in the feeling of your warm cunt contracting around him. He could probably cum from that alone.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he commented, pulling out halfway before pushing into you again. He did this over and over until you’d stretched enough to his liking, beginning a steady rhythm as he thrust into you. The elevator filled with the sound of his skin slapping against yours, drowning out your moans. His fingers dug into your hips as he increased his pace, slamming into you as he fucked you.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck yeah,” he moaned out, and you had to grab hold of the elevator railing to steady yourself as he pounded you. “Look at you taking my cock so fucking well. You’re such a good girl.”

Your heart fluttered at his praise, crying out his name as he angled his cock to brush against your g-spot with every thrust. He thrust into you like that just a few times before pulling out of you.

You were about to protest but he spun you around to face him, guiding your arms around his neck and picking you up by the backs of your thighs. He pushed your back against the wall to support you in the new position.

“Wanna see your pretty face when you cum,” he mumbled through clenched teeth, slipping back inside you.

“B-Bakugo,” you whined, finding it difficult to speak with how he was slamming into you. “So close.”

He reached a hand down between you two, rubbing furiously at your clit. “Cum for me, princess. Cum around my cock. Fuck.”

You threw your head back in sheer pleasure as your stomach tightened, digging your nails into his back as you reached your climax. You clenched around him, your pussy getting impossibly tighter as you came around his cock.

Bakugo’s thrusts grew sloppier but quicker, exerting the last of his energy as he finished inside you. Thick ropes of his warm cum painted your insides, filling you up along with his cock. He groaned out your name as he let out the last of it, burying his head in your shoulder as he caught his breath.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments before he pulled out of you and let you down slowly. His cum leaked uncomfortably down your thigh, and suddenly he regretted ruining your panties, wishing he had them to help keep his cum inside of you.

You were caught by surprise when Bakugo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he embraced you.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized to you once again. “I need you, and...I don’t wanna do this hero shit if I can’t do it with you.”

“Me neither,” you assured him, softly kissing his shoulder.

“Bakugo?”

“Yeah?”

“How are we getting out of here?” you inquired, remembering that you and him had been the only people in the office on that Sunday night.

“Shit.”

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

Raise the Stakes, Part One

So this is a sequel to Place Your Bets. It's actually just the first part of a sequel because I'm trying to publish things in shorter segments. Time is valuable and I know it can be tricky to sit down and read through someone's 8,000-word opus.

That said, you will have to read Place Your Bets first or this isn't going to make any sense.

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC with mentioned Jay White x OFC

Word count: 1,641

Content advisory: Brief sexual references, Jay being an emotionally abusive asshole

You’ve tried three or four times to reconcile the pay statement from New Japan with the list of expenses you submitted for Jay last week. They’re different. The check is lower than it should be and even though it’s not by a lot, this sort of thing drives Jay mental and he’s been in such a mood since you dared go on a date that you’re going to extraordinary lengths to try to pacify him.

If anything, you feel like making more of an effort is making him harder on you. He’s had you working practically around the clock, thinking nothing of waking you up in the middle of the night to demand you find some obscure record, or complaining that he doesn’t understand something. He’s demanded you reschedule every appointment you’ve made for him at least once, so that everyone who’s relying on you so that they can work with him has been screaming at you.

So you’re exhausted and anxious and you can’t figure out why you have a check that doesn’t match your invoice because the accounting department here codes everything differently, so the amounts per line are combined or split up in ways you don’t understand and you have to patch it back together. It’s impossible.

The thing is, you’ve done it before. The expense checks are screwed up 4 times out of 5 and it’s always a chore that takes you hours to resolve. You’ve done this when you’ve been travelling nonstop for a day, when Jay has been screaming at you for hours, and when you’ve been surviving on coffee and stubbornness. The difference now is that you’re distracted.

In the years you’ve had this job, you’ve never felt distracted this way. You keep replaying your night with Finlay in your mind and you catch yourself smiling like an idiot at the way your stomach flips. Despite the fact that Jay’s been keeping you on a tight leash, you’ve caught plenty of glimpses of David around the place. Sometimes, you’ll pass close enough that you catch a whiff of his soft amber-y cologne and your skin shivers. And you look. Jay isn’t interested enough in you to watch you closely enough to see what you’re doing as long as he knows he can order you around whenever he feels like it.

David looks back, too, with a sly smile or a wink. He actually has to be a little more cautious about it because Jay has been watching him since their New Japan Cup match, already fantasizing about revenge. But he has his techniques. He’ll glance over and lock eyes with Jay before letting them drift to you. The looks you exchange feel almost as intimate as when the two of you were naked in his bed together.

You’ve sent a couple of cryptic text messages back and forth but David’s perfectly aware that Jay will flip through your phone without even asking because he considers it his property. It’s killing you, always being in each other’s orbit and being unable to do anything about it. But more importantly, it’s distracting you from work.

You’re standing over the table, using a pencil to note where you think the things from your invoice have been entered on the payment statement when your breath catches. There’s that scent in the room with you, easing close behind you until you feel a strong pair of arms close around you.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he murmurs into your skin.

You exhale and let yourself melt into him, resting your hands over his as you incline your head back.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” you breathe.

He holds you a little tighter.

“I have to go back to the States to do some Impact shows. I’ll be gone a few weeks.”

You whine quietly.

“I’m leaving tomorrow night.”

“It’s not fair.”

He hums and kisses his way up your neck, making your whole body tremble.

“Any chance you could sneak out tonight?”

“I’d like to see someone try and stop me.”

“The slave driver won’t be happy.”

“I cannot tell you how little I care right now.”

He loosens his hold and you take the opportunity to turn around, touching your lips to his as you’ve been longing to do for days. You peck at each other a few times, smiling, both of your eyes lit from within.

“I’m in room-“

“I know what room you’re in,” you grin.

“Are you stalking me?”

“Damn right I am.”

You give in to the urge to kiss a little more urgently until a noise at the door has you jumping apart like reversed magnets.

You’re terrified it’s Jay because you are in no way ready for that showdown. But it’s Sanada coming to get a drink from the vending machine. He cocks an eyebrow at the two of you, which is enough to let you know that he’s aware of the nature of what he’s interrupted.

It isn’t a problem, though. He doesn’t talk to Jay unless they have a match and even then it’s only going over the game plan. He’ll gossip to his LIJ buddies but it’ll stay within their tight little circle. They'd rather laugh at Jay behind his back.

When he leaves, David takes your hand and the two of you are smiling like teenagers again.

“Guess I should run away before we really get caught.”

You kiss him, fervently, and you’re hardly able to pull yourself away.

“I’ll text you when I know what time I can escape.”

You’re both blushing as he exits the room. When you turn around to face your payment problem, you could swear it’s gotten more complicated than it was before.

“I need you to reschedule that appointment with the physio guy to Thursday,” Jay grumbles.

He’s been hovering since he came in, although he hasn’t been quite as obstreperous as usual, muttering to himself or to his game console rather than outright trying to interrupt you. You could take your work to your room but then he would be texting and calling you all the time, assuming that you weren’t working if he couldn’t see it. You’re still trying to untangle the knots of the expense report and it’s tantalizingly close. You’ve gotten nearly this far a couple of times only to be forced to backtrack and re-evaluate but this time you can see your way through; just a couple of twists and tugs and you’ll have it all smoothed out.

You roll your eyes at the sound of Jay’s voice, content that he can’t see your face from his vantage point.

“We’ve been through this, Jay. This guy is a specialist they’ve brought in and his schedule’s been set by the company. No changes, no exceptions.”

“Well you need to ask, at least,” he huffs.

“Why? All it’s going to do is aggravate management and you won’t get what you ask for.” You pivot to face him. “Why would you even want to change it?”

“I have something I want to do on Wednesday, not that it’s any of your business. I’d rather see him on Thursday.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

You fully expect from the look on his face that he’s going to lose it and start screaming about how you’re just there to do what he says. But though his lips twitch and his nostrils flare. He says nothing. Perhaps this is it. Perhaps this is the week that he fires you and replaces you with someone new who’ll do everything he says and flatter his ego without the attitude you’re prone to giving him. A couple of times, he’s told you that you were fired in a rage, only to contact you hours later and start grumpily giving you orders again. He never apologizes when this happens but he’s always a little quieter and less belligerent for a few days.

This nonverbal fury is something new, so maybe it’s a sign that the end is nigh. Maybe you’ll suddenly find a way to reinvent yourself without Jay White in your life. Take a calligraphy class. Teach English at some private business school. Get a dog. Have a relationship with someone who could love you back.

With that in mind, you force yourself to work out the final parts of the project that’s haunted you all day. You’re so happy when it’s done, when you understand exactly what’s missing and what you need to tell them to have it corrected, that you want to stand up and cheer and pat yourself on the back because god knows that no one else will.

Normally, you’d email the head office right away and go through everything you’ve found in concise bullet points to make sure you’re understood but instead, you close your laptop and stand up.

“Right,” you say breezily, “I'm off then.”

“Off where?” he growls without looking at you. “Another date?”

“Actually, yes.”

“This is becoming a problem.”

“No, it isn’t. I’ve done everything that’s required of me. I’ve jumped through every insane hoop, dodged every trap you’ve given me. You know perfectly well that the fact that I’ve been… that I’ve… There is no issue with my work.”

“I say it’s becoming a problem and in this equation, I’m the only one who matters.”

His reflexive cruelty always hits you right in the stomach, like you’re in the ring with him, and knowing that you have someone who wants to be with you and wants to please you doesn’t dull that at all.

“I matter Jay,” you say quietly. “I just don’t matter to you.”

You see a muscle in his beck twitch but even though you give him a moment, he says nothing. And it’s a painful realization that the only reason you’re waiting is in the desperate hope that he’ll contradict you, that he’ll surprise you for once in his life.

#njpw fanfic #njpw imagine #jay white fanfic #jay white imagine #david finlay fanfic #david finlay imagine #wayward wrestle writing #wrestling fanfic #wrestling imagine

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skruffie · 3 years

Text

Regarding underpayment of creative work

(This is okay to reblog. It’s also long so I tried to break it up into a few specific points, and I will link a video in the comments as well. Under the cut.)

I am a digital illustrator who has done personal commissions, a tiny bit of freelance work, and has also purchased commissions from other artists. I’m hoping with this post that this can be a tip guide for other artists, especially maybe those who have little or no experience with professional work, to help in the future when projects open up that they are interested in being involved in.

There’s some talk in the Thomas Sanders fandom right now regarding the severe underpayment of the animators that worked on the latest Storytime Madlibs video and from what I see a lot of the animators were really excited to be involved because it was an opportunity to work with someone that they really admire and also as a means of exposure for the work that they do. These are great things to want. It’s been explained now that the animators were paid roughly $1.20 per second of animation when the industry standard can range from, what--starting at $30+ per second? (I’m not an animator so I’m probably a bit off on that number). That’s gruesome.

For the content creators:

I’ve seen explanations that it’s because they hired on a lot of animators. If you are a content creator for a production company and want to bring on new talent, you have to have it in your budget to pay them the industry standard, their personal rates, their hourly rate, however it is organized. If it’s not in your budget, then you cannot afford to do it. It’s as simple as that. It is a skill you are hiring someone for that you don’t have, and it is work. It goes beyond a simple fan project, and there are many other ways to get fans more involved in the community: contests, raffles, themed art challenge events, holidays, and openly asking for volunteers.

If you are the artist, keep reading.

You have to get upfront about money. Even when art is your passion in life, as soon as money gets involved then it becomes a business transaction and the language of finance is a bit weird. One of the freelance works that I did last year was a cover for a resource guide that was going to print and in the call for artists they specified it was going to be a paid gig. Somewhere soon after that, probably when they chose me for one of the covers, they told me upfront what the payment was going to be. For this example, it was a flat $350 payment for a full color illustration, with payment given within 30 days of the invoice.

1. Make an invoice and set the payment parameters: some request payment up front, or you can set a window of time the client has to pay you, usually 30 or 45 days? Whatever you’re comfortable with.

2. If they want to know what your rates are: there is a really helpful video I saw (I’ll link in the comments) that advises that you set your price based off of the client. It is not on the time it takes you, but what the client can pay. The example given in the video is that anyone can come up with the Nike logo but how the logo is used is what changes the price dramatically. There would be a flat rate for the logo itself, and the rest to take into account would be the strategy for using the logo, what kinds of materials it’ll be printed on, etc etc. In a different example for one of the commissions I’ve done, I did an illustration for a friend that was later used as a book cover for her e-novel. She emailed me back saying “I think this means I pay you a licensing fee” and after a bit of research we came up with a fair price and a contract for what that would entail. I don’t honestly remember what the original price of the commission was, but the licensing fee brought it up another $125. Factors to consider how to figure out pricing: the quality of the work they expect, the turnaround, your other pending commissions or projects, schedule conflicts, your own bills and financial obligations, it goes on.

3. Taking on projects: If the client you’re working with is making you uncomfortable or trying to push for something way lower than what you’re expecting, consider if you can drop from the project altogether. I’m hesitant to say “don’t do it ever” because financial circumstances are going to vary from person to person, and comfort level with what you will or won’t work on will also vary. If you are in a place where you would be able to get by without the payment for that project and the client is being awful, do not work with them. Refund any payment they may have already made. If it’s really that important to them, they can find someone else to work with. Clients may want a time frame for when their request will be finished and try to be upfront about when you might be able to complete it. Get everything in writing. I cannot stress this enough. Log everything, keep conversations and invoices, emails, literally have a paper trail so nobody can come back and screw you over.

4. Contracts: read them. They’re often dense and confusing, but they will outline a lot of important information about the project and how the client will intend to use your work. Sometimes they’ll have points like “you retain the rights to your work but we retain the right to modify, copy, use etc” which sounds scary but is actually the license to be able to even display it on websites or in videos. If you have questions about anything outlined in the contract, ask them or see if you can google for what it means. See if they’re open to negotiating certain points before you sign.

5. The project may or may not be your entryway into professionalism: This is a hard one that even at my age I’m bummed about. What the project can give you is a lot of valuable experience and an entry way into the business side of art careers but it might not be the project that gets your name out into the world. Art is an incredibly competitive field and right now all of us also are constantly fighting battles against algorithms and ever-restrictive terms of service on websites just to be seen. Keep drawing. Keep writing. Keep animating. Art is a lifelong project. You gotta keep going and exploring and expanding your skills. Remember what you love about art the most. Bad clients come and go but your love for the art can help sustain you. It’s okay if you need to take a break from the hustle and recharge.

I’m probably missing a few things but that’s kind of a good start.

The heart of why I’m writing this post is that a lot of people have been hurt emotionally and financially by what’s happened with the Storytime Madlibs video. I’m not involved with the project or with the TS team or anything--I’m just a certified grown adult with a bit of experience in the business side of art, and I hope that what I’ve learned so far are bits of knowledge that other people can use too. It hurts to see that other people have been hurt by all of this, because knowledge on art business really isn’t talked about much at all and it is damn difficult to learn on your own.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #storytime madlibs #madlibs animators

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geekydane · 4 years

Text

Talk to me - Tommy Shelby x reader - Chapter 12

Masterlist

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Warning: Smut. My first ever written smut. I’m sorry in advance!

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It was hard finding the everyday rhythm after the whole episode. Going back to work, even though it was only down the stairs and down the hall was a strange sensation. You sat down at your desk a little later than you used to and Lizzie was there already, typing away on her typewriter. She looked up when you didn’t move for a long moment but didn’t say anything. You looked over the papers on your desk and told yourself to let go of all the thoughts that was roaming around about Tommy, Mick King and a possible revenge in the near future. Right now you did as Tommy told you to do and go about your daily work like you used to, like nothing had happened. He said it would calm the people working in the betting shop more, now that the news had spread about Tommy being shot and hospitalized. That might mean that the news about how you shot and beat the thugs to death had slipped as well. Lizzie still hadn’t said anything to you after the first hour so you came to the conclusion that it had.

After a few hours you were back in your habit of filling out invoices and archive the many papers. A few time doing the day the door opened and you looked up every time and expected Tommy to walk in as usual, but it was only some of the clerks that came in with more paperwork. It was in those moments that you thought that, no; everything wasn’t as it used to be and should be. It was in those moments that the inner demon in you started to convince you that you were wasting your time sitting behind the desk. You should get out and do something about Mick King.

In the evening you went home to get some clean clothing to the day after and went to Tommy’s room. He didn’t leave it much, because the doctors told him to stay in bed. The first day you went back to work he was about to get up with you. But Polly passed the doorway and yelled him back to bed and if there is one person Tommy respects, it’s his aunt Polly. You came back to the room and Tommy had gotten himself up and into the couch. He was holding a glass with golden brownish liquid. Whiskey, no doubt. He smiled big when you stepped in and he was about to get up when you signalled him to sit back down with a finger.

“Woof.” He jokingly said, as the signal might be alike to how you would train a dog. It worked though, so you just rolled your eyes at him and went to place your clothing in the drawer that was now yours. As was the one underneath.

“Anything interesting happened today? Couldn’t even hear them yelling from the betting shop.” Tommy snorted. It wasn’t like him to do nothing for so long and he was clearly frustrated. That also meant that you were one of the only things that could keep him occupied for only a small part of the day. You dumped into the sofa next to Tommy and his hands were immediately on you. He grabbed your hip and tried to drag you on top of him but you made yourself heavier by leaning the other way, so he couldn’t move you around.

“Oh come on. Can’t I just have a little fun?” He asked and pouted like a little kid. You giggled and it only made laugh too. It was immediately replaced by the hiss he made when his wound hurt.

“Damn you woman. I can’t resist your laugher.” He said with a heavy sigh. You bit you lip and looked towards his stomach. It was still bandaged under the white button up. There was even a little blood stain on the shirt as well, telling you that he haven’t been staying in bed as he should. You couldn’t say that you really wanted to crawl up on his lap and see what he might do to you. Your new gained memory came with a side effect of a little extra confident in that department, but you still didn’t want to hurt him any further. So you decided that you might actually tell him what has been on your mind the whole day.

“How and when are we going to get back at Mick King?” You asked him very quietly. You weren’t speaking loosely like it was nothing yet but you had definitely opened more up towards Tommy in the last days.

“You shouldn’t worry about that. Come here.” Tommy mumbled and started to pull in you again. You sighed and got a little closer so that he could place his lips on yours. It was a very hungry kiss, like he had been waiting for it for a long time.

“But he shot you.”

“And he’s gonna pay for that someday.” Tommy said against your lips and with strength you didn’t know he had yet, he pulled you over his lap, so that you were straddling him.

“When is… someday?” You asked as Tommy attacked your lips and let his hands run up and down the small of your back. It was a strange position to be in with a man all of the sudden. It wasn’t that you weren’t enjoying it. The thought of Tommy doing more intimate things to you crossed your mind as you kissed back. But it was like Mick Kings face had burned a hole in your memory and whenever you closed your eyes to enjoy Tommy, he was looking back at you in the dark, smirking. Too alive for your liking.

“Tommy.” You mumbled awkwardly against his lips and he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” He said with a raspy voice. He tipped your head to the side with the tip of his nose and started to make is way from the area under your ear down to your collarbone. It felt like he was trying his best to distract you from the topic and you couldn’t understand why. Why wasn’t he angry about the fact that he got shot and even when he wasn’t carrying a weapon himself?

“I want to help you kill him.” You blurted out and it was like the air went from Tommy and he dropped his head against your shoulder hard.

“Can’t we just leave it for now I just want to…”

“Tommy we need to deal with…”

“I don’t want you to get involved with this!” Tommy half shouted at you and you jumped to your feet. At all other times you would have cowered away from him but you were too enraged to let the topic go. It sounded like you wanted the bastard dead more than Tommy did. Wasn’t that what he was working toward with his whole business plan in Manchester?

“But I want to get involved Tommy! I want to see the fucking bastard bleed!” You yelled back at him and you balled up your fists at your sides. Tommy sighed at you but looked at a spot over your shoulder. You turned to see Polly standing in the doorway dumbfounded with a hand on the handle. A little knot started to form in your stomach and you stiffened a little.

“Well I guess y/n speaks now.” She said, more to herself than you. Tommy ignored her and stood up with difficulty as he stretched his scares on his stomach. He went to you and put his arms around you from behind as you still stared at Polly. You felt exposed like she had caught you going around naked, so Tommy’s arms were very welcome around your middle. Polly put a hand over her hard and smiled at the two of you.

“I guess you are improving day by day. You two are good for each other.” She said and sounded very sure of herself.

“Can’t you talk some sense into your nephew?” You jumped to the opportunity of involving Polly. She widened her eyes as you spoke but quickly recovered and smiled.

“Does it have to do with some bastard than needs to bleed?” She spoke slowly and calmly. When the words were said by someone else you had to admit that you sounded a little crazy. Who were you becoming?

“Y/n wants to be involved in the whole dealing with Mick King and his men.” Tommy said tiredly and pinched his nose like the idea alone could give him a headache.

“Well I think that sounds like a good idea.” Polly simply said and gave you a sweet smile. She understood you, you could see that in her eyes. But Tommy wasn’t having it and he let go of you to step up to her.

“Polly… don’t…”

“I see no reason why she can’t be involved. You told me yourself that Lady Finch was crazy about her. She doesn’t have to be thrown into a fistfight. Leave that to Arthur.” Polly folded her hands like that were the final say.

“We already got a plan and…”

“Plans can change, Tommy, when better resources appear.” Polly’s statement made Tommy press his lips

“She’s not a resource.” He grumbled. You couldn’t help but smile at that. You knew Polly wasn’t meaning anything negative with it. You really wanted to be involved and Polly believed in you.

“But we know that she’s capable to handle herself now.” Tommy walk to the bed and sat down. He looked defeated. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily.

“Okay okay. I’ll find something for you. But you will carry the gun with you at all times.” Tommy was now addressing you instead of Polly and you walked to him and slung yourself around his neck, kissing him all over. Cheek, nose, eye, jaw and in the end on the lips. Tommy finally huffed out the hint of a laughed and accepted it. He wrapped an arm around you and dragged you closer.

“I’ll leave you to it. Remember God is watching” Polly said with a chuckle and left the room. If she just knew that you hadn’t been able to give yourself completely to Tommy yet, she would need god to watcher over you. You knew that Tommy was holding back because you were, but you were still very insecure about your body after the countless of rapes you had experienced. But the more you shared a bed with Tommy, the more confident you became as his hands wandered over your body and the glances he send you as you undressed. It made you feel beautiful and strong.

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Only a few days after Tommy talked about maybe going to work the same day. You looked at him a little sceptical because as you were getting dressed in his room he didn’t look like one that was getting out at bed. You kissed him goodbye and went into the office as you used to. Doing the day you saw both Arthur and John walk to and from Tommy’s office. You smiled and them and looked after them with a curious glance, but they just tipped their hat at you and disappeared out again. They hadn’t done that any of the other days where Tommy had been lying in bed, so you half expected Tommy to appear at some point of the day but he never came. You didn’t think more of it than you were looking forward to get up to the room and see him again as soon you were done working. You hadn’t really left the Shelby residence since the incidence. You had moved yourself from Tommy’s room to the office and back again.

So when you entered Tommy’s room after a long day and you found it empty, a knot instantly formed in your stomach. You went to search for him in the house but didn’t find him, or any of the brothers. In the dining room were Polly, Esme and Ada. They were surrounded by most of the Shelby kids. They looked to you as you stood in the door looking around.

“You looking for Tommy?” Ada said while having her toddler on her knee, bopping up and down her leg so that he was giggling hysterically. You nodded at her and Ada looked at Polly.

“He’s out. Didn’t he tell you?” She asked and you quickly shock your head. Out? Where did he go all of the sudden? As far as you knew he hadn’t left his room so he couldn’t have made any appointments. Polly sighed and motioned for you to sit down with the rest of the ladies.

“He couldn’t sit still for that long. I’m sure that if you weren’t here he would have been back in the office the moment he left the hospital.” She explained. You didn’t like the sound of that at old. The fact that he didn’t care much for his health like that was horrible, even though it was better after you came along.

“Don’t worry about him. John and Arthur went out with him. I’m sure it’s important if he leaves without saying anything to you. They will be back soon. They are always home to warm the bed at night.” Esme said with a smug smile and Ada made a face at her. John’s youngest daughter came up to you as you sat down. She handed you a teddy bear and you couldn’t stop smiling at her excitement to show off her toys. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to relax if you went up and waited for Tommy in his room. So you stayed with the ladies and the children and occupied yourself with playing with the oldest of the children.

It was dark outside as you stood in one of the children rooms. Esme had decided to stay in the residence instead of going home since the brothers hadn’t returned. The oldest of John’s children had been angry as she had a room for herself at home but she had to share a room with her sister in the common house. You watched as Esme tried to tug the girls in as you stood at the window, looking down on the dark street.

“You need to get some sleep y/n.” Whispered Esme as she had finally made the girls settle down. You put a hand on your shoulder to guide you out of the room and a shutter went through your body but you noticed that you didn’t have the sickening need to get away from her as you would have done not many weeks before. But you were still hyperaware. She bit you goodnight and went to her and John’s room. You were alone on the hallway and it looked incredibly longer when you were standing there only with a dim light from a single lightbulb in the middle of the hall. You sighed and walked down to Tommy’s room that you almost could call yours too since more and more of your clothing creeped their way into his drawers and you was rarely home at your own apartment.

You lay in bed for hours waiting for any sound of the brothers coming home. You couldn’t sleep without knowing he was home safe. When you finally heard a car pull up to the house you went to the window in your bare feet and watches as Arthur clapped Tommy on the shoulder and they were laughing together. John was speaking to Tommy when he looked up to the window you stood in and caught your eyes. He smiled up to you and held a hand up as a greeting. You waved back sweetly but you could feel that you were a little mad that he hadn’t told you were he went. What if something happened while he was still recovering?

“Hey gorgeous.” He said as soon he enters the room and took the cap off. You stood with your arms around yourself as you were only in a sleeping dress. He went over to you and dragged you into his arms and kissed you lovingly. You kissed him back but huffed at him as soon he let you go again.

“Where were you, Tommy? You are still supposed to take it easy!” You snapped at him, or at least you were sure you sounded at least a little angry.

“I had to get back to work eventually. I’m fine. I haven’t busted any stitches. You can have a look if you want to?” Without another warning Tommy started to shrug off his jacket and take of his clothing. You blushed hard under his gaze as he stripped down to only wear his trousers. He still had the bandages around his middle and there were no blood seeping thought. At least he took a little care of himself which made you almost as happy as the fact that he was standing half naked in front of you.

“Still in one piece.” He said proudly and spread out his arms for you to embrace him again.

“You didn’t come to the office.” You reminded him as you pressed your nose against the bottom of his chin.

“With good reasons. I was in Manchester.” He said. You tried to lean back so you could look at him with a sour face but Tommy held you tighter against him.

“With good reasons. You are going to like this. I promise.” Tommy finally unwrapped his arms around you and took your hands as he let you to the bed. He sat on the edge and you stood between his knees. He ran the backside of his hands along your curves. The motion making your knee long dress slip a little up, exposing some skin on your upper tights. It was like Tommy was transfixed on the little piece of skin.

“So what did you do exactly?” You put your hands on his shoulders and massaged them a little. He hummed and closed his eyes for a moment. But he still spoke.

“I made sure you got a meeting with Lady Isabella Finch. You are going to Manchester this Saturday. John agreed to drive you.” He opened his eyes and looked at you as you froze and stopped massaging his shoulders.

“I… I have a meeting? Without you?” You asked a little unsure how that would work.

“If there is anyone that can persuade her, it’s you. She adores you.” Tommy said with a charming smile.

“But Tommy you know that I can’t... speak with her.”

“She was very understanding last time we were there. I’m sure you will do fine. I trust you will get the deal done. You wanted to be included and I made it happen because I want to include you. I want you to work with me on this goal and went you come back to Birmingham with the deal in your hand, I want you to show it off at the next family meeting.” He held your gaze as you stood there dumbfounded. He believed so much in you that he practically placed the whole deal and Manchester adventure in your hands. You wanted to be included and he had giving you the whole responsibility. It was scary to think about but you were also very proud of yourself that you had made someone trust you so much that he would do something so big. It would give you a chance to get back at Mick King but also a chance for Tommy to relax a bit longer.

“I don’t know what to say.” You mumbled.

“Just say you will do it.” Tommy simply said and you bend down to kiss him. He grabbed you by the waist and tumbled you over to lie on the bed next to where he sat. He crawled over you and placed himself half on top of you as he started to attack your neck with small kisses.

“Everything for you, Tommy.” You moaned.

“Everything?” Tommy mumbled against you skin. You thought for a moment what that meant and what position you found yourself in. And for the first time since the rape you thought to yourself that you actually didn’t mind it. The way Tommy’s hands slowly worked their way up and down your body made you feel all warm inside and you couldn’t deny how beautiful you felt.

“Everything.” You repeated him and in one smooth motion he had laid you down on the bed, hovering over you. You both looked down to the space between the two of you. His middle still wrapped in the bandages.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He assured you and you nodded. But it was not the only thing you thought about while looking down. The thought of anyone coming near your abdomen was a little frightening but if there was any one you wanted it to be, it was Tommy. He would also understand your hesitation if you just spoke up about it. Your breath caught when Tommy started to leave sloppy open mouth kisses down your neck and when he reached your collarbone his fingers reached the bottom of your loose shirt and pulled it up. You let him remove it and tossed it to the side of the bed. The chill air hitting the bare skin of your stomach and arms. He let his hand run over your stomach as he started to work his way down your body with small kisses. You couldn’t help but moan and it was like it ignited something in him.

“Is it okay if I…” He started but you pulled him to you by his arm.

“Tommy I have to… I may not be completely… normal… down there. You know… I’m afraid you will be disappointed if I can’t…” You stammered through your explanation but he slowly lowered himself onto you.

“We don’t have to do this, if you can’t…

“No I want to. I just… I don’t feel like a whole woman anymore. So I just wanted to warn you if it isn’t… good.”

“Y/n. There is nothing about you that can ever disappoint me. You are the most amazing woman to me, whole or not. You are all I want.” Tommy was holding your gaze as he spoke and you were almost about to tear up when Tommy smiled at you awkwardly.

“Please don’t cry. I don’t want to be a fella that makes women cry in my bed.” You both laughed at the situation and you dried your eyes with the back of your hand, trying to calm yourself. Tommy let a thumb run over your cheek as he kissed you sweetly. You started kissing him back, really feeling his words in every movement between you.

You started to feel the growing tension between your legs and lifted yourself up against Tommy. You used the opportunity to slip off your skirt. Tommy took your face in his hands as you fidgeted with the buttons in his pants. When you finally got them up he tried his best to move out of them, without having to break the kiss. The awkward horizontal dance made you giggle against his lips. You could feel his smile as he tried to let his tongue slip between your lips. He swallowed your last giggle and you became a tangled mess of arm, legs and flying underwear.

He was hovering over you as you spread your legs for him. It was like the air around you became a little tense but Tommy was fighting it for you by giving you a mischievous smile. You felt his hand move down your side, over your hip and found its way between your legs. The brush against your inner tight made you jolt. It excited you more than it frightened you. Tommy looked you in the eyes as he was looking for accept and you nodded. His thumb brushed the sensitive knot and you gasped so loudly. It only encouraged him as he started rubbing circles on you. It felt much better than you could have ever imagined.

“Tommy.” You whimpered as he started to insert the first finger into you. He breathed in sharply as you closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the pillow. He started pumping into you and soon after added another finger. You had been so afraid that you wouldn’t be able to feel anything. That you would have been completely numb or worse; disturbed by the feeling of something against your clit. But Tommy knew what he was doing to you and he continued the motions and the sloppy kisses throughout your first orgasm in years.

“You look so beautiful.” Tommy murmured as you squirmed underneath him, riding out your high on his fingers. You felt beautiful under his gaze. He looked at you hungrily as he removed his fingers from within you. The sudden emptiness made you shoot your hips up against him in an attempt to take the pressure from you. You whimpered against his mouth.

“You are so impatient.” He mumbled and you just answered him with a little sigh. You reached up towards his lips again as he lifted himself a little. You needed him to touch you and to kiss you again. You felt it like a prickling all over your body.

“Tommy, I need…” You tried to explain but as you looked to him what was going on, you saw how he was pumping himself. You breathed in sharply and reached down to let your hands take over. The way he was twitching around under your touched made you even wetter for him and you were both a moaning mess as he lined himself up against you.

“Yes.” You whispered into his ear to the unspoken question you knew he was asking himself. You wanted it to happen. You needed it to happen so bad. He pressed against you and you held your breath as he slide inside slowly. You were surprised by the feeling of being filled out. You had been so afraid of this moment for so long that you had waited until now. But it felt right. It wasn’t painful and it wasn’t loose.

“You feel so perfect.” He confirmed to your unspoken thoughts. He held you close as he started moving. His head fell against your shoulder and he nipped at your skin. You wrapped your arms around him and as he moved you could feel the texture of his bandages scratch against your upper arms. You had never wanted someone as bad as you wanted Tommy. You wanted to do him right. You wanted to protect him as much as he protected you. You wanted him to stay in your arms. On top of you. Beside you. Inside you. The feeling of his skin against your felt like the most right think in the world.

Tommy sped up and your toes curled as a natural reaction and you dug your nails into his back. He was chasing something good with his wild motions and you met him halfway with every thrust.

“Tommy.” You moaned and he lifted his head to face you. The sweaty hair around his face. The slightly open mouth. He looked wild like an animal but still so beautiful. You let your hand sneak around his neck and guided his face down to yours. It was hard to kiss between both of your moans but you didn’t care. You could feel a shift in the way that he moved that it wouldn’t be long and the knot in your stomach told you that it would take you long either.

“Y/n… God I… ” He whispered your name against your lip and in the next moment you gasped for air as he placed a thumb back on you clit. He forcefully stroke it and you were sure your vision went black at the edges as you filled your lungs with air in a big gulp only to be able to whimper his name so loud that you were sure someone would have heard it. You contracted around him in pulsing movements and it was the last thing that made him become undone. He looked you in the eyes as he let out a roar. You could feel the heat deep inside you and you brushed away his wet hair from his face to look at him properly as he came down from his high.

His weight was a little heavy on you. You had slumbered down on top of you and his head was again buried in your neck. His warm breath tickling your skin. You wrapped your arms around him again and closed your eyes.

“Thank you.” You whispered and he immediately lifted his head.

“Thank you?” He repeated questioningly.

“I never thought I would be able to feel like this. Thank you for proving to me that I’m not worthless.” You said with a gentle smile.

“Don’t ever think about yourself that way.” He rolled to the side and finally pulled out of you. It was strange how fast you could get used to be filled up and you couldn’t wait to feel like that again. Now he pulled you half on top of him, making sure that you weren’t laying on top of his wound. He pulled the covers over the two of you and settled in. The peace that fell over you when you were lying in his arms at night was a safe space. Nothing could happen to you as long as you were in his arms and no creepy sounds could be heard over the sound of Tommy’s heavy breathing as he slept free of his own nightmares.

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@im-the-colourless-sunshine @fearthequeer595 @sununicorn @i-love-you-green @imnotsomewhore @imnotuglyimjustpredebut @hi-there-x @namiknows @imnotsomewhore @captivatedbycillianmurphy @irishgirl1995 @stalker83005 @stressedandbandobessed7771 @tuliptx @stydia-4-ever @ladymelissastark @yoheyyosup @calciferthelivingfire @actorinfluence @theamuz @affection-rabbit @jenepleurepasbaby @mango978 @csigeoblue @independentgirl @sweatydragoncloudknight @kiaoizz @rosedunne-shelby @greedysiren @adelinekam weebllespaces ldynblack @barnestann

Sorry but some of the tags doesn’t work!

#TOMMY #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby fan fic #tommy shelby fan fiction #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagines #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfiction #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #PEAKY FOOKIN BLINDERS #peaky blinders fan fiction #peaky blinder imagine #smut #cillian murphy

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anogete · 4 years

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In Between

Hi, folks. I’m sorry I have nothing to offer as far as fic goes. Things have been... ::sigh:: You know, I don’t know what things have been. Not good, not bad. Just... things. I wanted to talk--get things out of my head--this morning, but I realized I don’t have a person/outlet who can accept these things right now. So, I will put them here for anyone who cares to read them.

1) My car blew up. Well, the engine did. I was on my way back home with groceries last Saturday, and I lost all ability to accelerate and brake. So, I puttered out on the side of the road and waited to be saved. The issue may be covered under the warranty so I had it taken to the dealership. They’ve had it for a week and still don’t have answers for me besides an offer to lend me a car for free until they can figure out what to do with my car.

2) This deserves it’s own point, though I almost included it on the first point. I’ve never bought a car without my grandmother. She was under five feet tall and had a tendency to wear sweat pants and Christmas sweaters year-round. She smoked Winston Lights and carried a purse covered in rhinestones. The car salesmen didn’t know what hit them because she wasn’t at all the sweet old lady who would roll over and accept their first offer. She was hard to read and she wouldn’t give an inch. She also wouldn’t tell them what she was willing to pay. No counter offers from her; she’d just tell you to “do better.” Anyway, she worked her magic when I bought all three of my cars. When I realized the problem with the engine was serious and might require me getting a new car, I went into a mental tailspin. Yeah, yeah, I was worried about fitting it into my budget and all that, but mostly I couldn’t seem to cope with buying a car on my own without my grandma there to hold my hand. I’m almost 39 years old and the thought of doing this without her had me sobbing in the floor. Except, I didn’t realize my tailspin was due to my grandmother at first. At first, I just thought I was incapable of handling stress. Maybe that’s still accurate.

3) While we’re talking about expensive-ass shit, I knew the air conditioner and furnace on this house needed to be replaced sooner rather than later when I bought it last February. It looks like the time has come. I managed to find a nice man with very odd hair (think a longer version of the Prince Valiant hair-do, but bright white) through my boyfriend’s dad. He does this for a living and said he’d give me a discount and do for $5,000 what other places were telling me would cost $9,000. So, that’s happening next week. I have the money, but the idea of writing a $5,000 check makes me want to puke. Ugh.

4) The days are running together. I’m working from home. I can’t complain, though. I’ve got it better than most. I’m alone all day. I have a library with a desk. I can go downstairs and make tea or lunch in my own kitchen. I’m getting paid my full salary with bonuses. I can pretty much make my own hours. The company I work for is taking the pandemic seriously and has told us that we can all work from home until we feel comfortable returning to the office. Their timeline for “normal” is months. I don’t think I’ll be back in the office until late summer, if that. Those who want to return are permitted to, but they can’t use the public areas (kitchen, conference rooms) and have to abide by some strict safety requirements. And they can choose when and how often they go into the office, working the remainder of the time at home. So, better than most.

5) I’ve been doing this social distancing thing since March 19th. It’s not difficult for me. On good days I’ll exercise (I have a Peloton) before logging into work around 9am. On not-good days (which seem to be more often than not), I’ll skip the exercise and just log into work early. Work keeps me busy and I spend a decent amount of my day on the phone with clients. I go to the grocery store once a week, but I order for pickup. Someone else does the shopping for me and loads it into my trunk. This is nothing new. I’ve been shopping that way for years. Now it’s just harder to get my usual pickup slot because everyone else has joined the party. I do miss taking a break from work and leaving my office to grab a coffee and sit outside on a bench downtown. I guess I could do that outside my own house, but it just doesn’t feel the same.

6) A few months ago, a husband and wife who are clients came in to meet with me at my office. They’re in their 80s and both were having trouble walking. They parked in the garage next door and couldn’t find the elevator to exit. I walked over and escorted them to our office building. They were both struggling with walking and the wife (Rose) had been fighting lung cancer for a couple years, so I suggested they wait outside and I’d valet their car once we were done. The thought of making the trek to their car alone was painful to me because it was a monumental struggle for them to walk down a hallway. Their daughter-in-law called me two days ago. Rose passed away two weeks ago. The husband, a former literature professor for a university, was in the hospital with four broken ribs because he’d fallen shortly after Rose’s passing. He was a Jewish child in Nazi Germany during the war. He’d told me stories about hiding from the Nazis, surviving off of tree bark and whatever he could find in the forests. He also jokingly told me that he’d live until he was 120. Now, it looks like he won’t survive the year. He and Rose would tease each other all the time, but you could see all that love between them. Whenever I’d call him, he’d ask me in that wonderful accent to wait while he got “the boss” on the phone as well. Rose thought it was silly that she was “the boss,” but she humored him. You know, they’re shorties, too. Five foot, nothing. Just like my grandma. Hearing that Rose was gone and Dr. (he’s a PhD) was likely soon to follow just broke my already fragile heart.

7) Fragile heart, huh? Yeah. After the car situation and the realization that one day I’m going to have to do big life things without having my grandma to help me, I was feeling pretty raw. But I’ve been trying to be responsible and do things I’ve been putting off lately. So, I gathered up all those medical bills from Ferguson’s illness last September. (Ferguson was my soulmate little chihuahua mix that I had for over 13 years.) I had pet insurance on him and hadn’t bothered to make the claim because I couldn’t handle it. But it’s been almost a year so I pulled out the invoices, which were over $2,000, and logged into the website and starting inputting the info to file the claims. The little box asks for a description of why I took him to the vet. And answering that question just brought back all that shit like a wave. I remember reading this nice description of grief and how it is like waves. At first they’re big and they knock you around and you can’t breathe. But over time they get smaller and you learn how to navigate them. Still there, but manageable. Filling in that box resulted in a bit of a tidal wave that knocked me on my ass. My boyfriend came home to find me sobbing at my desk like a lunatic.. He’s... not so good with emotional shit. And I usually keep it bottled up so that no one knows what’s going on inside me. But some days... Some days it just overflows. So, after confirming that nothing terrible had occurred and that I was reliving September 2019, he slowly backed out of the room to leave me with my grief-wave.

8) I want to be one of those succulent people. You know, the ones who have succulents lining their windowsills. The dining room and kitchen windows are full of this oddball little plants. The boyfriend hates it, but I told him he’d have to deal. I’ll die on this hill. I’m a succulent lady.

9) I’ve been reading memoirs or, rather, memoirs through collections of essays. I don’t know if it’s the mental state I’m in or if social distancing has got me subconsciously reaching out for life beyond my head, but I can’t seem to read much else. I loved Liz Phair’s Horror Stories. I’m reading The Book of Help by Megan Griswold right now. I’m determined to procure a signed copy of What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young. He did a virtual event for a local bookseller recently and they have signed copies available for purchase. I just need to muster up the will to call them and ask them to hold one for me. The little snippets of their life and experiences via these memoirs through essays bring me some measure of comfort.

10) I tried to watch Euphoria on HBO. I managed to make it through the first episode, but I don’t think I can watch more. I can’t relate, but that normally isn’t a necessity for an enjoyable story. Maybe it’s just too depressing for me right now.

11) I binged Dollface on Hulu and wish I had more to watch. Parts of it hit me hard. I’ve always had trouble maintaining friendships, period. But maintaining friendships while in a relationship has been damn near impossible for me. Just like Jules. Except, I’m not nearly as cool or gorgeous as Kat Dennings. And I have no friends in this city to go back to. Just friends at work.

12) I haven’t worn makeup for 2 solid months. I’m starting to miss it. I found old selfies I’d taken in which I don’t recognize myself. Did I ever look like that? I must have since here is photographic evidence. I look like shit now. I’m forever in yoga pants and a hoodie with half-wet hair from the shower. Maybe putting on a pair of jeans and a cute shirt and some makeup will make me feel like a human being again. Maybe I’m not doing as well as I thought in quarantine. Huh.

13) I hope you all are well. If you’ve sent me a message, I’m so sorry for not responding. My mental state has been delicate lately and the silence from me has nothing to do with your kind words. I promise I read and treasure and appreciate anything that is sent to me. I’m also sorry for having no offering of fic or a promise of something to come. I haven’t written since last summer. It’s been almost a year. I guess I’m in a dry spell.

14) Since I’ve been struggling with loss/grief lately, I’ll leave you with a quote from Philip Pullman, taken from his novel The Amber Spyglass. It’s about death, I suppose. Or maybe just a transition to something else entirely. It’s nice to think of my grandma and Rose and my sweet, sweet love of a dog falling in the raindrops and riding on the wind through tall grass. If it wasn’t raining, I’d take my computer outside right now.

“Even if it means oblivion, friends, I'll welcome it, because it won't be nothing. We'll be alive again in a thousand blades of grass, and a million leaves; we'll be falling in the raindrops and blowing in the fresh breeze; we'll be glittering in the dew under the stars and the moon out there in the physical world, which is our true home and always was.”

#Anogete in real life #personal #coping with grief #Mental health where did you go #adulting #struggle bus

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buckyscrystalqueen · 4 years

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A Christmas Gift: Part 1

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 5,050

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“What about him?” Steve asked as he and his friends stood outside an empty U-Haul in New Jersey, waiting to find the perfect person for their next YouTube video. Tony shook his head as he scanned the lot full of early Christmas shoppers, locating a woman a few spots down and a row over that was looking between three or four different pieces of paper and a cell phone that had a kids pink unicorn sticker upside down and sideways on the back in a rust covered car.

“Them?” Sam asked as he gestured to a couple coming down the row they were in, but Tony shook his head as he glanced at an older model car seat in the back.

“Her.” He said simply as he gestured to you as you wiped tears off your face and ran your fingers through your hair to hold your slowly shaking head. “I know that look. I know that desperation… She’s the one.”

“I’ll go talk to her.” Bucky said as he put out his cigarette and took one of Tony’s YouTube channel cards from his ‘boss’.

“I’m coming, too.” Tony said as he pushed off the side of the truck and headed over with Bucky, who was usually responsible for the main camera work since he wasn’t a fan of being in front of it. You startled and looked over at the two men when they knocked before cranking down your window with a shake of your head.

“I’m sorry, I’m not leaving yet…”

“No, we’re looking to help you.” Bucky said gently as he leaned on the hood of your car to see you while Tony crouched down beside the window.

“Who you shopping for, sweetheart?” He asked softly.

“My daughter.” You sighed as you shook your head and glanced at her wish list. “Lord, my little girl, and her big hopes and dreams.” You looked back over at him and shook your head as you showed them the list. “She’s trying to bankrupt me asking for a pony, and an iPad, and cell phone, and some fancy expensive doll… And she’s only four, so I’m in for a world of hurt from here.”

“Just her?” Tony clarified, which made you startle the slightest bit.

“Just… her. I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Tony.” He laughed as he took the business card from Bucky and handed it to you. “Tony Stark. I’m a YouTuber. My camera guy, Bucky.”

“OK…”

“We’re shooting a video today, and we want to make someone’s Christmas a little more special, and you are that person.”

“Wait… what?!”

“But here’s the problem. Target never lets us film in their store long without kicking us out, and… well I rented this U Haul and while we could shop in Wal Mart, I don’t think it’s gunna fill that truck, and that’s what I need to do. So I think we’re gunna have to take it into the city.”

“Oh, no.” You said with a shake of your head. “No, I can’t let you do that. I can get a few things…”

“And I feel the need to be Santa Claus today.” He interrupted. “Please? I can’t promise a pony, but I can promise to make this Christmas a special one for your daughter. So, as long as you don’t mind, Bucky’s going to ride with you so your parking in the city, and your gas there and back is paid for, and he can get some back ground information so we know where we’re going once we’re there.”

“And so we know you actually go to the city so we’re not just standing around waiting.” Bucky laughed. You sighed and shook your head as you set the list down on your lap.

“You really don’t have to do this.”

“We know.” You looked between the two of them and over at the U Haul with a shake of your head.

“I’m not gunna end up a statistic on the five o’clock news, right?”

“No, we promise.” Bucky said. “I keep telling him we need to approach these videos a little different, but no one listens to the camera man.” You smiled and nodded your head as you started to clear off your passenger seat.

“OK, fine. But I will put up a fight. And I have to make a stop first if I’m leaving Jersey. I have to pick up a few things for my side job and that store will close before we get back.”

“Alright, we’ll follow you.” Tony said as he stood up and gestured for his friend to get in. “Don’t go kidnapping my camera man, you hear?”

“Pretty sure I should be the one concerned with that.” You laughed as you moved your purse and papers off the seat beside you, and put your seatbelt on. “Just know, I have pepper spray.”

“Oh, I would so prefer if you keep that exactly where it is, and not spray it anywhere near me.“ Bucky requested as he got into your little five speed rust bucket and moved the seat back so his long legs would fit. “I’ve been sprayed with pepper spray by my ex, who is the solid definition of crazy, and it’s not pleasant. Wait for this SUV.” You nodded and slowed down on the other side of the white vehicle, while Bucky pulled an old, bent notebook out of his pocket. “OK first, your name?”

“(Y/N).” He nodded and wrote out your name, repeating it back to you in one long, monotone note that made you smile.

“OK, and baby girl’s name and age.”

“Anna Lee. And she is four going on sixteen.”

“Anna Lee.” He said with a nod and a glance over at you. “I like that. Is it a family name?”

“No, it’s from a song, actually. Ever heard of The Band?”

“Which band?”

“No, the band is called, The Band. Here, listen.” He nodded and look ever at you as you grabbed a mix CD from the visor and put it in the player. You skipped to the track you were looking for as you pulled into the next shopping mall parking lot. “Please don’t steal my car, I’ll be right back.”

“Nope, I wanna see, too.” He said as he unbuckled and glanced over at the SUV that pulled in beside you. “What is this place?”

“It’s a crystal store.” You said as you grabbed your purse and a reusable shopping bag. “I make jewelry when Anna Lee goes to bed. Mala beads, necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings. I make candles, too. And usually I sell them here.”

“Namaste!” Your best friend, Wanda called out before glancing over her shoulder to see who it was. “Oooo girl! Who is this… why do you have a camera crew?”

“Wrong place, wrong time, apparently.” You sighed as you kissed Wanda’s cheek. “I’ll explain later. I need two things. One, I need to pick up my stuff, and two, I need you to relieve the baby sitter when you close because I’ll apparently be in the city until God only knows.”

“Wait, what is going on?” She asked as two of Tony’s guys flirted with Natasha, the woman that worked at the register.

“Some YouTube thing.” You said with a swipe of your hand. “Can you pick up Annie?”

“I can pick up Annie.” She said with a nod as she gestured for you to follow her to the back room. “Just don’t be gone all night, galavanting in the city. And you better check in every half hour so I don’t have to obsess over thoughts that you are dead on the side of the road or sold into sex slavery or something.”

“I highly doubt that these guys are going to sell me into sex slavery.” You huffed as you peeked into the large box with your name on it. “Please tell me you found the rhodochrosite beads.”

“Girl, who do you think I am?!” She laughed as she pulled open the top. “The list of holiday requests…”

“Oh, damn it.” You sighed as you glanced at the list of products she had sold in her store that she needed wire wrapped. “I’m never going to sleep again.”

“I’m sorry, hunny. I can still come over and help…”

“No, it’s fine.” You sighed as you put the beads in your hand back in the box and the list on top of it. “I’ll do it. I’ve done it every other year, I’ll do it again this year.”

“That’a girl.” She cheered as you picked up the box with a grunt.

“I’ll see you tonight. Bring the invoice and… fuck it, take her to McDonalds. Just leave the receipt on the table and I’ll pay you tonight, love.” She nodded and agreed as she held open the back door to help you. You said good bye to her and Natasha and smiled at one of Tony’s guys who was holding open the main door for you. Bucky grabbed the trunk for you and took the box from your hands, distracting you from the large bag one of the guys was carrying out of the store. You headed back around to the drivers side with a heavy sigh and sat back in your chair.

“OK, so let’s get back to Anna Lee. Just follow the SUV.” Bucky said as he got back in your car and pulled out his notebook again.

“OK, do you know how much I hate all of this?” You asked as you looked through your papers to pull Annie’s list out of your bank statements.

“OK, I’m guessing this is pony.”

“The first one? Yea, that’s pony.” You laughed as you glanced over at the list. “Then iPad and iPhone are next, then coloring books, and new crayons. Then what’s the next one?”

“Name? Nama? Maybe…”

“Nanea.” You laughed. “She’s the cute, Hawaiian, 1940’s, Junior Citizens Service Corps American Girl doll out of the catalog that my lovely mother signed me up for that I can’t seem to unsubscribe from since Annie has fallin’ in love with these hundred dollar dolls… I was going to try to pass the Target version off but I know that wouldn’t work.”

“So iPad and American girl.” Bucky said as he texted Steve the first two things. “What’s this last thing?”

“A man friend for mommy.” You sighed as you reached out and took the list from him. “Was on the list last year, and it’s what she’s wished for the last two birthdays. My little girl.” You sighed as you looked at the list at a red light. “I don’t deserve her.”

“She sounds like an angel.”

“She is.” You said as you carefully folded the list back up to put in her baby book with the year before’s. “Sweetest, most patient kid ever. She comes to work so I can keep my costs down, and she just sits with her toy of the day or a coloring book on the bus and plays quietly, or sits in the doorway of the room I’m cleaning and watches her show or a movie on my phone, or reads her books. For a four year old, she is an absolute gift from God.”

“What else does she like?”

“She loves to read, and practice her counting, numbers, and letters, and she’s pretty advanced for her age, which is nice. She loves Disney, and her massive collection of stuffed animals. She likes playing with the Legos my mom gave her from when I was a child, which is about as motherly as my mother can be toward her only grandchild because God forbid her daughter have a daughter out of wedlock… Do you smoke?” You looked over at him as he continued to write, but he nodded his head and leaned back to grab his cigarettes.

“Bad habit.” He said as he held out his back to you before you could open the one you secretly kept in your door.

“You’re telling me.” You agreed as you took his lighter from him and lit your cigarette. “I don’t smoke much other than one with my coffee, one after I drop my school bus off in the morning and in the afternoon, and one after I tuck Annie in. And every once in a blue moon when I’m running errands without her, I have one.”

“Yea, I wish I could live off five a day.” Bucky said as you both cranked open your windows a crack. “My friends are all idiots that stress me out and I don’t need that kinda stress in my life. Already got enough. So I smoke.”

“What’s your stress from? Bad girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend, but we’re not here to talk about me, we’re here to talk about you.” You huffed and stuck your tongue out at him. “What else does she like?” You sighed and shrugged.

“She colors a lot. Not a fan of being outside but that’s probably because I live in a bad neighborhood. She plays games on my phone. She likes Mommy’s crystals. I don’t know, she’s just a regular kid.”

“And what about you?” Bucky asked as he pulled out his phone and took pictures of his notes to pass along to Steve.

“What about me?”

“What do you like to do?” You scoffed around your smoke and shook your head at him.

“I lost the ability to do anything for myself when I got pregnant.” You told him with a glance over at him. “Every dime I have goes to that little girl. She gets all the new clothes, all the new toys, all the new games. She wants Frozen shaped Mac’n’Cheese or name brand Gushers, she’s gunna get it, and I’m going to survive with holes in my bra straps another day because they still work to pay for her to have her snack. I work three jobs for her, from way before sun up to way after sun down and live in the smallest apartment known to man kind because the rent was cheap. She is my world.

So my interest right now include mermaids, and fairies, and unicorns. And my days off are spent in a kiddy pool on my pathetic excuse for a patio playing mermaids, or playing tea party and dress up, or watching Doc McStuffins for the hundredth time because Annie wants to be a doctor right now. Either that or a mermaid or a crystal witch hippie like me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because she is my little girl.” Bucky studied the side of your face as you took the last drag of your cigarette and tossed the butt out the window. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“What about her father? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Prison. Found out I was pregnant, and he went into a bank, pretended to rob it, and shot a man that worked there just so he didn’t have to pay child support. Jokes on him.” You said with a smirk as you looked over at him. “He still has to pay in federal lock up. Unless he pulls whatever kind of stunt he’s pulling now so that he’s in solitary and not working to make sure his support doesn’t go through to try and ruin Christmas and her birthday like he has since she was born. Asshole.”

“God, you just have your work cut out for you, don’t you?” You nodded your head and glanced down as your mix CD started over, reminding you about your daughter.

“This is how I came up with Anna Lee.” You said as you found the track again and turned it up so he wouldn’t ask anymore questions about you on the drive. As he listened, Bucky pulled out his phone to text Tony directly to let him know that he had picked the right person for his Christmas video give away. He relayed everything you had told him, picking out even more details about your daughter than you had given originally, and about your lifestyle. Because the video wasn’t just about making Christmas for a kid, it was about making Christmas special for an entire family.

“I’m from Nazareth.” You said at the end of the song as you slowed to pay the toll. You glanced over at him as Bucky handed you a twenty, and continued. “Pennsylvania. My parents still live there. I get my love of 60’s music from my dad. The Band was one of his favorites. I knew when I was a child that if I had a little girl, she’d be named Anna Lee because of that line of someone staying to keep Anna Lee company. Just didn’t know as a kid what that meant, but I still fell in love with the name all the same.”

“It’s a beautiful name.” Bucky said as he took his change back from you. “Not one you hear every day.”

“I like that about it, too.”

“Just stay behind the SUV. You don’t have to wait for the U Haul.” You nodded and changed gears to speed up to keep up with the other driver. Driving through the busy streets always made you a little nervous, and the Christmas crowd made that even worse, but thankfully, you didn’t have far to go before you were parking in an above ground lot behind the SUV and next to an empty double spot the U Haul was able to fit in.

“We’ve had these spots reserved for a week.” Your passenger said to you before you even asked the question. “So, we need you to have Anna Lee’s list in hand.” You nodded your head and pulled out the list that would go in a baby box in your closet for her after today. You got out after him and locked the doors, while the little group collected behind the U Haul to introduce themselves and go over the game plan they had been making.

“So this is how it’s going to play out.” Tony said as he showed you a walking map on his phone with pins in places you were going to go. “We’re going to go in a giant circle. But most of us are not going to come back after each trip. We have fold up carts that we’ll put the bags in, and then Clint, and Bruce will run it all back to the U Haul where Scott will be hanging out, keeping an eye on it, since we’re going to be spending a lot of money and people are extra sticky fingered around the holidays.”

“OK.” You said as you glanced over at Bucky as he held out a mic pack for you.

“Needs to clip to your collar on the inside or on your jacket if you don’t plan on taking it off, line goes under your shirt, and the battery fits in your back pocket or it can clip to the back of your jeans.” You nodded your head and turned around to feed the mic up your shirt to your collar as Tony continued.

“Now, I usually do this ‘anonymously’ by supposedly grabbing people off the street, but I have to have people consent to being filmed on film for legal reasons before I can even begin, and I need them to be mic-ed up for that. Which is what we’re doing here. But once that’s done, what we’re gunna have you do is walk about half way down the block while I do my intro. And Bruce will give you the signal to walk toward me. When you pass me, be looking at Anna Lee’s list, and act startled when I get your attention. I may jump in front of you, I may grab your arm. It kinda just happens. And I apologize in advance. Just please don’t scream. It draws a lot of attention and it doesn’t look good.”

“I won’t scream.” You giggled with a shake of your head as you got Annie’s list out.

“Perfect. Now, I need you to confirm to the camera that you are OK with being on camera, in those words. Not just yes or OK, or sure…”

“I am OK with being filmed for Tony Stark’s YouTube channel and his Christmas video. No matter how much I oppose having money spent on me…”

“OK, that’s not what I wanted.” Tony laughed as Bucky smirked at you behind his camera. “But it will work. Now, one last thing. Some stores have an issue with our bigger camera, but I have Wade, our unofficial, smooth talking, ’legal guy’ that talks to managers. Try to stay close, and keep your back more to walls so that other people are not on camera. And if the big camera gets kicked out, we switch to much more subtle little ones. Just so you know what’s going on. And we’re starting with the American Girl store.”

“We also film everything and do a lot of editing so don’t worry about swearing or having to redo takes.” Bucky said as he leaned the camera away from his face a bit. “And I’ll let you know if there’s audio issues so don’t worry about the microphone and the cord.”

“Alright, we ready?” Steve asked as he clipped his mic pack to his belt. You nodded and took a deep breath as you purposely unwrapped your scarf to keep it away from the mic and followed the group down to the street. With Annie’s list in hand, you did what you were told and walked down the block to wait for the signal. You knew what was coming but your hands still shook.

“Stupid.” You mumbled when Bruce gave you the signal. You took a deep breath and carefully stepped around Bucky where Bruce was pointing so that you were passing by Tony where you needed to be.

“Miss! Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Tony said as he gently took your shaking arm and turned you back around so you were facing the camera. “Hi, I have a very important question for you. Who made this Santa list for you today?”

“Oh. My daughter, Anna Lee.”

“Anna Lee. Well my name is Tony Stark. I rented a U Haul truck this year and we’re doing a Christmas video shopping spree for one lucky child this year where we fill the truck with toys for them. And a list written to Santa in glitter crayon on pink paper with stickers to boot, screams special little girl.”

“What?! No, you can’t…”

“Well Santa told me that this was the list I was looking for.” Tony interrupted with a smile, glad you were playing along. “It’s been decided by the spirit of Christmas. So what’s first on the list?” He asked as he looked at the list with you.

“Well Annie really wants an American Girl doll so that’s where I was headed first.”

“Then American Girl it is!” Tony said as he smiled over at you before looking at the camera. “Let’s fill this U Haul for Annie!” Tony stood there long enough to get a thumbs up from Bucky before turning toward you with a smile and handing you back the list. “You did good.”

“Thanks.” You said with a small smile as Bucky came up next to you as Tony looked at his app.

“Just so you know, the microphone picks up your voice even if your not in front of the camera and records it… and I can hear it all in my headset. Which is also very stupid.” Your face flushed red as he held the camera by his side and followed the rest of the group down the street.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“Relax.” He laughed. “We can edit it out in post. No big deal. Just be mindful, OK?” With one more apology, the group turned the corner and grabbed a pair of taxis to head a few blocks uptown to stop number one. You got the quick run down on how you were supposed to enter, but that was it instruction wise. You headed through the door of one of the flagship American Girl Place stores, and couldn’t help but smile that you were standing in a store that you had wanted to see since you were a child and got your own doll.

“So which doll does Annie have her heart set on?” Tony asked as he moved you and himself just enough so that you were out of the way and in front of a wall.

“Oh, that would be Nanea. She’s…”

“First one to find Nanea without disrupting the mom’s gets a thousand dollars.” Tony said with a smirk. His friends took off a brisk walk and you glanced over at Tony. “You’re in on that too.” He said as he gestured to the store.

“Oh boys. If this is how the day is going to go, you’re in for a world of hurt.”

“Follow her.” Tony said as he pushed Bucky in the direction you went. You beelined through the crowd, past Sam and Steve who didn’t realize that Nanea wasn’t a WellieWisher doll and were searching the boxes, Bruce, who was trying to go through boxes in a round about with a bunch of other moms and girls, and Scott, who looked completely lost trying to find some kind of sign to point him in the right direction. Being a mother, and a frequent reader of the magazine, you knew exactly what you were looking for. You headed upstairs, slowed along the side wall in the middle display of all of the dolls that were sold in the historic line, before very gently reaching up to grab a box on the bottom of the third round display in.

“Found it.” You said softly as you smiled at the doll that was going to make your daughter’s whole world. Tears welled in your eyes as Bucky lowered his camera to just watch you for a moment before shooting a text to the group that the doll had been found and where and putting the camera back up on his shoulder.

“She’s a lucky girl.” He said softly, making you look up at him as you hugged the box to your chest.

“I remember opening this box when I was a little girl. It was magical. And now I get to make it magical for her, too.” You looked at him and not the camera and smiled softly. “Thank you for doing this.”

“So who are these other dolls? They all have stories, right?” Steve asked as he looked around at the section you were in.

“They do.” You said as you held the doll to your chest. “I know some of them. Julie is a hippie who stands up for girl’s rights, Melody stands up for the civil rights movement, Nanea survived Pearl Harbor, Kit was Great Depression, Samantha is an orphan, Rebecca is Jewish, Addy escaped slavery, Kaya is a Native American, Josefina lived in 1800’s New Mexico, and Maryellen lives in a time of conformity in the 50’s and she just wants to stand out. Then you have Joss who is deaf in one ear, Blair the chef, decorator, farmer, etcetera, and lastly my personal favorite, Luciana, the aspiring astronaut. Wow, I know all of them.”

“You know a lot about these dolls.” Steve said as Tony stood next to Bucky, just watching.

“I do. I had a doll when I was younger, Molly, World War II. I loved the lessons that these dolls taught, and I love that they are still teaching girls about our history. And they all have clothes and props and stuff to help reinforce those stories. Like I had a little chalk board and work books, and a desk for Molly. It’s really cute.”

“Well then obviously, Annie needs them all.”

“What?!” You snapped as you whipped around to Tony, who was smiling as if he didn’t just drop a bomb.

“One of everything the doll has.” He told his friends, who scattered across the room to grab a doll and all the accessories they had in their section. “Pay attention to the little boxes!”

“No. No, you really don’t have to do that.” You tried as he looked at Nanea’s shelves and grabbed her clothes and accessories packs.

“You agreed to this, sweetheart.” Tony said in a sing song voice as he grabbed a couple shopping bags from a woman and started to fill them. “We’re doing this for Anne…”

“Anna Lee.” You and Bucky corrected at the same time.

“Anna Lee.” Tony repeated as if committing her full name to memory. “Look, they’re historic so she can learn. And besides that, you have to look at it this way. I know we’re not gunna be able to fill a 26 foot U Haul today. I knew that going into it. But thanks to money that I get from my followers, and money that comes from selling sweaters and t-shirts, and shit, I know I have roughly one million dollars to spend on Anna Lee. And in order to get more content to be able to do this for someone else, I need to go all out. And I need you to participate as well.” You nodded your head as his friends started putting their finds in the shopping bags, and Tony gently pushed your shoulder. “Make it fun! Enjoy spoiling your kid. Just pretend you won the lottery and spend my money. Because you kinda did.”

“OK, OK.” You sighed as you took two shopping bags from him with a scowled smile. “Fine. They make furniture, clothes, pets, and accessories, too. And other dolls for younger kids, and ones that you can find to look like your kid…”

“Well then lead the way.” Steve said with a smile as the guys picked up the first round of bags. You looked over at Bucky with a heavy sigh, and he gave you a smile and a small nod.

“You got this.” With a roll of your eyes, you lead the pack of boys around, picking out and assisting them on picking the best pieces the store had.

Part 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #A Christmas Gift

19 notes · View notes

harveywritings92 · 4 years

Text

Modern AU:40yr old! Jacob x Accidental Wife! Reader PT. 1

Jacob is the founder and CEO to Rook security Inc. He finds out his fiancee has cheated on him and ran off with the guy, while Y/n's just been ditched at the alter by her fiancee who ran off with her best friend. She ends up at the same bar wallowing in their sorrow, they noticed each other sitting alone and started talking and drinking lots and lots of drinking till they blackout! the next morning the two wake up in a hotel room still clothed thankfully but married?! apparently in their drunken stupor they somehow found their way to a five minute wedding chapel, and thought what the hell? she's already in a dress and got rings! let's go for it! instead of annulling the marriage the two decided to give it a chance and get to know each other.

Also note: Jacob is about 38 at the beginning of the story and reader is 26. so like a 12 year age difference between them.

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24 hrs After being ditched by their receptive partners

Y/n had already moved in with Jacob mainly because the day after their... unorthodox union, Jacob went to drop her off at her home only to find, her ex-fiancee had Ex-BF move in and changed the locks and thrown her stuff on the curb, the y/hc woman didn't know what to do! she knows her parents were out of the question, they'd just mock and belittle Y/n for being a failure and not "perfect" like her older siblings...and her siblings were also out! they had their kids and wouldn't be able to put her up for couple weeks until she found an apartment!..

So, Y/n was lost! maybe her boss can let her sleep in the office? Next thing she knew Jacob was picking through her stuff, Asking her what was hers and what was a gift from her ex and former friend and tossing them, he helped load them on to his truck, and telling her to get in after a silent car ride.

He brought her to a very expensive apartment complex brought her to his apartment he showed her around the place of course she was still in daze about everything she was hardly listening, He showed her where her room was his ex's yoga studio...of course she was using it for more then just yoga, as he found out! He told her they can go find her a bed and furniture tomorrow, so for now just use his room or sleep on the couch he's not using either right now...

"Now if you'll excuse me dear, I've got to go make a few calls." and with that her new husband was already gone before she could even ask him important shit...like if she wants to go out, how's she supposed to get back in?! instead she just opted to get change out of this damn dress! luckily the little clasp at the back broke and Y/n managed to unzip it half-way wiggled out of it.

She checked through her things, luckily they didn't do anything to her clothes... the sound of the door opening caused Y/n to freeze as Jacob's voice filled her ears.

"Oh, I forgot the code for the...door..." His words died off when he saw Y/n in nothing but black panties the two awkwardly stared at each other before the y/hc woman hugged a t-shirt to her chest and snapped at him to get out! the British man's face turned red and he stuttered out an apology before slamming the door. a few seconds later as Y/n was pulling pajama pants on she saw a piece of paper slide under the door she picked it up.

[front door guest code:8464, Apt. door guest code: 10634, temporary until you get a key. -J.F.] Y/n bit her lip and cautiously peeked outside to see if it was safe? and sighed Mr. Frye was gone, barely two minutes in and he's already seen her naked... How embarrassing. the y/wt woman surveyed the apartment and was appalled at the mess laying around! clothes, rancid take-out, dirty dishes, shopping bags! just left laying on the floor collecting god knows what for how long?!

Y/n got to work looking around the apartment for cleaning supplies, She was stunned find them brand new and never opened, "Jesus.." she said in disbelief then looked up a photo of Jacob with a model looking bottle blond, smiling like she'd won the lottery. "tsk, ever heard of a mop, or cleaning service..." She hissed at the woman's face while resisting the urge to print out the 'Damn bitch u live like this? ' meme, and tape it to Jacob's door of course he was an older guy... so, there's a possibility that he wouldn't know what it meant and would take it as an insult...Then a thought occurred to the y/nat as she stopped sweeping her head slowly turned towards Jacob's bedroom with morbid curiosity she thought *...if this is what his living room is like, then what does the bedroom?*

She leaned the broom against the kitchen isle and nervously made her way to Mr. Frye's door she swallowed and opened the door and peeked inside the color drained from her face as she slammed it shut. "Good lord! It's like The Day After in there!" she wheezed in horror not understanding how the hell Jacob could sleep in that filth, let alone his ex! she had to have said something about it!

Unless... She was the one who made the apartment like this? that honestly wouldn't surprise the y/wt woman her grandmother used to say 'Sometimes pretty faces hide messy habits.' guess she really hit on the nail on that one... Now that Y/n had some time to herself she recalled how filthy [ExBF]'s apartment always was, it got to the point were her landlord threatened eviction if she didn't clean it!

Y/n sighed recalling the fit [ExBF] threw while calling asking her to help her...By Help she meant ""Y/n do it for me while I sit on my ass a text my four boyfriends all fricken day and not say thank you!"" The y/ht blew some hair out of her face as she finished packing garbage bags. "Why the hell was I ever friends with that bitch?" She pondered out loud then thought back to when they were kids.

[ExBF] always got what she wanted! if she got new dress she'd show off and brag, if someone got a dress nicer then hers? she'd throw a tantrum and call that person out for ""stealing her spotlight!"", one of their other friends liked a boy? Nope, not anymore he was [ExBF]'s now, Oh, wait he's not rich or spineless? better drop his ass... It made Y/n feel sick at how she used to make excuses for that girl's behavior!

She also should've seen the way [ExBF]'s face soured when she announced her marriage and introduced her ex-Fiancee to her. Y/n should have seen it coming, but she was so infatuated with [Ex/n] that she was blind to the signs that he was a just a scummy as ExBF, Y/n wanted to lived in a small apartment and save up Y'know? Nope he demanded a house!

Then he get's laid off at work and says he's looking for a job, meanwhile Y/n is working three jobs to pay the bills and all she ask is for him take out the trash or maybe order some dinner for when she gets home? Nope, he sits on his ass playing video-games all day, then whines to her that the house stinks and he's hungry! She noticed ExBF had been coming around a lot during that time but Y/n just figured her friend was looking for her or something.

Y/n stomach churned in vexation she hoped they were both miserable together, they deserve each other... she snorted as she straightened out some mail that was tossed under an end table, onto the counter in a neat stack, then check around for a trash chute a fancy place has to have a trash chute, She saw the instruction on the back of the apartment door...

The end off the hall, She grabbed the bags and was about to leave when she remember the door codes and found them sitting on the floor in her room she tucked it in the waist band of her pj's and took the trash out she found the chutes tossed the bags in and headed back to Jacobs apartment and was about to punch the code when she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

Y/n looked over her shoulder to see a security guard standing behind her. "Urm... Yes?" the y/ht woman squeaked unsure if she was in trouble. "Ma'am would you come with me a moment?" she winced Yes... she was definitely in trouble! and there she was sitting in security office.

"Look I already told you, he let me in I didn't steal anything, I was just cleaning!?" Y/n huffed as the guard rolled his eyes at her obviously not believing her. Before repeating what was really in those bags what had she stolen from Mr. Frye? causing Y/n to growl in frustration "I don't don't know how much will moldy take-out and empty beer cans fetch me?" she snarked this upset the guard who threatened to call the cops, but a British voice cut him off.

"That won't be necessary..." The guard jumped from his seat to see Jacob Frye standing there none to pleased to see his new roommate in handcuffs. "Oh, Mr. Frye! Sir we got a call of a disturbance, I caught her breaking in." the guard said sounding almost proud of himself as the hazel eyed man glared at him. "She's not a thief, she's my wife." Jacob stated the guard looked at him bemused. "W-what? but-" it was obvious he'd seen Jacob's ex before and Y/n looked nothing like her.

"But nothing, uncuff her now..." the guard swallowed nervous the intimidating man's tone and complied Y/n sighed flexing her arms trying to get some feeling back in them as she got up and joined, Jacob who scrutinized her arms and frowned seeing the red marks on her wrists, he shot the guard a sharp look before escorting Y/n to the elevator. "What were you doing out of my apartment this late?" the British man ask keeping his eyes on the elevator doors.

"Erm, taking out the trash?" the y/nat woman squeaked unsure if he was going to be mad that she cleaned his home without permission, Jacob cocked a brow at her inquisitively as the y/ht rambled that she didn't really have much to do, so she figured why not? as they approached his door Jacob's hazel eyes widen to see how nice a neat apartment was, he could see the floors again...

He’d forgotten they were a dark cherry hardwood the green Persian rug his brother in law had sent him was also was also vacuumed, he looked on the counter and saw stack of mail and carefully sift through it, all credit-card bills and invoices, all passed due! he let out an annoyed sighed as Y/n shifted unnerved and awkwardly spoke up.

"I wasn't sure if I should toss those, sorry."

"No, it's fine..these pretty much tell me what Karin was up to while I was working..."

"Um, if you want I could...the photos."

"Get rid of them? Go right ahead, It seems fair I did same for you."

"Right..." Y/n said getting to it while Jacob looked through every letter before finding something that interested him, he disappeared in his room for the next hour as Y/n finished cleaning the rest of his apartment, she heard Jacob's barely audible voice coming from behind the door.

Most likely on his phone if Y/n had to guess 'Karin' may have opened a secret nest egg account using Mr. Frye's name he must've just found it, That's probably what he's been doing all day calling banks and credit card companies to cancel cards and accounts she may have opened in his name without his knowledge...

Y/n pause as she picked up laundry and and scrutinized the labels; Fuck these things cost more then her house's rent! She almost felt like fainting as she tossed it in a hamper, and thought about what was going on with her surprise husband's situation. If her brief stint in law school was worth its salt, Then Jacob's ex could face some federal charges and prison time for that! It's basically ID fraud and embezzling.

She saw the light go off in his room he must gone to sleep? or just wanted to be alone with his thoughts lips formed a thin line as she looked over a the grand father clock at the other end of the living room, Was it seriously 3 A.M.?! the y/nat was surprised so much time had passed she felt like she just got here!

After some thought she decided it was time for her to turn in as well, She'll just have to figure out what to do with herself in the morning...

She found her sleeping bag in one of the trash bags and laid it out on the couch and settled down for bed, strange when Y/n was closing her eyes she thought she saw a hooded figure disappear behind the clock...

[the Building Jacob lives in was built by the Assassins so there are a lot of secret exits and entrances scattered all around the premises.]

#assassin's creed x reader #assassin's creed syndicate #40yr old! Jacob Frye #jacob frye x reader #watch_Dogs #CrossOver #Hacker! Reader

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satonthelotuspier · 4 years

Text

Day 7 of Xichengclipse is here, and we’re almost done!

This turned a little away form the original concept into wanting to explore how societal pressures affect JC's notion of himself. He has this role he has to play in canon, especially young jc, the sect heir, the more sensible one to WWX's shenanigans, and I wonder if he ever found that stifling. I wanted to take a look at what that might mean in a different verse.

Lotus Lakes In Spring

Lan Xichen has suddenly started working late every night, and Jiang Cheng, insecure at the best of times, is imagining the worst. Although he had thought they had developed feelings for each other theirs was still a match of convenience, tying to powerful families together, and perhaps he's has enough of Jiang Cheng.

How far away from the truth is he? His therapist suggests there's only one way to find out - communication in relationships is key.

Featuring a JC struggling with societal expectations and his own nature, and a misunderstood LXC who's taking some matters into his own hands.

“It’s fine,” Jiang Cheng assured, except it really wasn’t. It wasn’t fine. They hadn’t spent any time together for weeks because Lan Xichen had been working constantly, and this afternoon was just another call to excuse himself from dinner, because he’d be working at the office until into the evening again.

It was a herculean effort, but he killed the needy keen in his voice; an omega begging for attention from his mate might sound cute in theory, but Jiang Cheng hated that he was so weak to the natural reaction.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow evening then, I have to be up early for a conference across town, so I need to go to bed early tonight.” He didn’t sound terribly pathetic, but it was a close thing.

“Sleep well, Wanyin, I’ll be quiet when I get in, so that I don’t wake you.”

He could feel the wetness behind his eyes, but worked hard to keep it out of his voice.

“Thank you, Xichen.”

With a few more pleasantries they ended the call, and Jiang Cheng stared at the bright-screened mobile in his hand.

Was Lan Xichen growing bored of him? Their relationship was complicated, no doubt, it wasn’t any secret that their match had been a power move, two of the biggest families in Suzhou, united in an act of politically motivated showmanship.

But Jiang Cheng had thought they had come to care for each other, despite neither having been the other’s choice. Lan Xichen was a kind and caring man, and an attentive alpha mate, and Jiang Cheng tried his best to be a good omega. Despite his quick temper, neediness, and easily embarrassed nature, he did try to be as good to his alpha as Lan Xichen was to him.

Perhaps with mixed results.

And that must be why the other was pulling away, having had enough of having to pander to him, to address the flaws in his character, and yes, in his body.

Jiang Cheng whined low in his throat, as he acknowledged the white elephant in the room. It must be, in part, because their matings hadn’t taken yet. Despite numerous heats shared together, he had yet to become pregnant. He was failing in an omega’s most basic function, and powerful dynasties, like the families they both came from, required heirs, and he wasn’t providing.

What was the point in bringing an omega into the family if he couldn’t breed?

Lan Xichen said it didn’t matter, things would happen in their own time, but that was just Lan Xichen, being nice, paying lip service. If it wasn’t an issue why was it in every gossip magazine? Every tabloid newspaper?

Taunting headlines about separate bedrooms and a lack of intimacy between the Lan heir and the Jiang heir, married for convenience, to further two powerhouses of political and economic might, but cold and distant with each other.

Until a few weeks ago they couldn’t have been further from the truth, he had fallen asleep in his husband’s arms every night, and they shared a full and mutually satisfying sex life, even outside of his heat cycles.

He was assured by the specialists he had consulted that there was no physical reason for it, that everything was in perfect working order; Lan Xichen had even supported him, attended the appointments with him, even submitted himself to a physical examination and tests to ensure there was no problems on his side either.

Jiang Cheng had been pleased to find that out that the kidnapping he had suffered as a young adult had left him with no lingering effects other than a pervasive fear of the dark.

Which meant it was him. He wasn’t broken medically, he was just broken.

Had Lan Xichen gone back to the lover he had stopped seeing in readiness for their marriage? Had he finally had enough of a mate that didn’t provide the things he should?

Who could blame him? Maybe these were the first tentative steps towards divorce?

He unlocked his phone and dialled.

“Wen Qing, can I talk to you?”

“I’m not your therapist, A-Cheng.”

“Your monthly invoice says differently. You’re damned expensive for someone who isn’t,” he snapped, and she snorted.

“I have a client in half an hour, but I’ll give you a call before I go home. It will be around five, alright?”

He agreed and they hung up.

***

He tried to process her advice that night as he lay in the bath he had taken to try and relax a little. The gist of their conversation had said he could drive himself silly with the what ifs, the suppositions, and the only way he’d get any closure on the issue was to ask Lan Xichen directly.

And that he should also talk to the other about his needs, that he missed the other and wanted attention.

Out of the two, Jiang Cheng thought the latter was the least likely to pass his lips. How pathetic would it make him seem to be begging his own husband for attention?

He was that pathetic though, he really, really wanted to.

He bathed, changed for bed, and, ensuring the small lamp near his side of the bed was on, settled down to sleep in a bed that seemed all too empty, because Lan Xichen wasn’t in it beside him.

***

It must have been the sound of the thunder that awoke him, as he shot upright in bed, and began to panic. The room was pitch dark, and he felt his chest tightening and his breathing speeding to shallow pants in immediate reaction to the darkness. He mewled; a lost child. It was oppressive, and closing in on him ever faster.

“Wanyin?” Lan Xichen’s voice sounded, clear and soothing by his ear. “Damn.” There was some scrabbling around, then a flare of light in the darkness. “Here, take this, baby.” Lan Xichen’s phone, with the torch function on full, was pressed into his shaking hands, and he waved it wildly around the room, checking in the shadows while the other gave him space to ensure he was safe.

Eventually he calmed enough to accept Lan Xichen’s arms around him, as he was pulled into the other’s lap and hugged tightly.

“You’re safe, sweetness, you’re safe here with me.” Lan Xichen kept up the steady, soft, stream of reassurance, stroking his hair and kissing wherever his lips landed until Jiang Cheng regained some measure of control over himself.

He didn’t have quite enough to control his tongue, however, “Don’t leave me, Xichen, please don’t leave me. I’m trying so hard to be better for you. I am.”

The stroking hand paused, then slid to his shoulders and held him away from Lan Xichen’s chest so the other could look at him, “What do you mean, Wanyin? Of course I’m not going to leave you, I know you don’t like the dark, it’s not a surprise to me. I’ll hold you until dawn or the power comes back on. I don’t mind.”

“B-but you’re avoiding me. You’re staying at work all the time now, like you don’t want to be with me, or you’re seeing someone e-else.” It could only be described as a wail, and Jiang Cheng hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop now the dam had burst. “I kn-know I haven’t given you heirs yet, but I’m trying my b-best.”

“Wanyin? Why…” Lan Xichen sucked in a breath, then moved his hands up to cup his face gently, “you silly thing, we’ve discussed this again and again. I don’t care. It will happen when it happens, or it won’t, and that’s fine too,” Lan Xichen’s thumbs rubbed over Jiang Cheng’s cheeks, wiping away the tears, “I’m working late because I’m trying to clear my schedule early, before your next heat cycle. I’ve been looking for places we can get away from the city and take it easy for a while, and you might relax enough to enjoy yourself a little more, instead of worrying incessantly about something that is so completely out of your control.”

Of course, Lan Xichen’s words only made him cry harder, and try to wrap himself around the other.

“And how could I consider seeing someone else? Who would ever match up to my beautiful omega? No one else smells of lotus and soft spring rain on a lake like you, no one else has that fiery, challenging gaze for me,” Lan Xichen feathered his lips against Jiang Cheng’s jawline, and he preened at the praise falling from the other’s lips, hmming his approval, “and no one else would look half as divine spread across our bed, tousled and well-loved and marked so completely as mine, as you do.”

Jiang Cheng growled, “Yes, I want that, show me, alpha, Xichen, show me I’m yours.”

Lan Xichen pulled the torch phone out of Jiang Cheng’s hands, and placed it besides them, so it still cast a glow, and pushed forward to pin the other beneath him. “As my omega wishes.”

***

Jiang Cheng lay back against the unfamiliar-smelling bed, while Lan Xichen rubbed gently at the arch of his right foot. He had never considered his feet erogenous zones but the way Lan Xichen touched him, anywhere, everywhere, so possessively, so soothingly, with such an intent to relax, to make love to. He made a soft, light sound of delight, surrender, and contentment in his throat, which was mirrored by a more aggressive sound in his alpha’s.

The bed would soon be flooded in the scent of their pheromones, overwhelming whatever neutral washing agent the hotel used, when his heat hit in earnest.

But at the moment he was riding it’s edge, extremely sensitive, a little excited, by the nearness of his alpha, but too relaxed to move. That would change soon enough, but he intended to enjoy this for as long as he could.

He was so lucky, to be this cared for, to be this precious to someone. He still felt so guilty that he had suspected Lan Xichen of having an affair, when the other had been working hard to provide an environment where the mate he knew was so tense and stressed about their inability to fall pregnant, could relax, let go, and forget about the newspapers, the pressure of his family, and just enjoy what should, after all, be a pleasure-filled few days, worshipped by his alpha, like any beautiful omega should be.

“I love you.” The words were out before Jiang Cheng realised, and he would have slapped a hand over his mouth, but the deep, pleased, possessive sound that came from Lan Xichen’s throat made his toes curl.

He felt a flush of heat begin to run through every nerve ending in his body at the same moment Lan Xichen released his ankle, and moved between his lifted knees, almost more tuned in to Jiang Cheng’s heat than he was himself. He looked dangerous, and hungry as he lowered his head to mouth at the pulse pounding at Jiang Cheng’s throat as the room flooded with the smell of lotus lakes in spring.

“Love you too,” he raised his head briefly to reciprocate, before returning back to sucking a mark against Jiang Cheng’s throat.

***

It had been a wonderful idea, to take this away from the city, from all the factors pressing expectation down on Jiang Cheng, and they decided to stay for a day longer than Lan Xichen had originally planned, as they were both exhausted after a very pleasurable heat spent worshipping each other.

It became a regular thing, and it was no surprise to Lan Xichen, who had theorised privately, that it was probably the stress of expectation and regard on Jiang Cheng, that was causing the problems, that it wasn’t too many heats later that they were cuddled on their bed together awaiting the results of the chemist-bought pregnancy test Jiang Cheng had purchased on his way back from the office earlier that evening.

He had sat through so many hopeful tests himself, only to have them come back negative, Jiang Cheng was almost too terrified to look after the required time. He hadn’t wanted to expose Lan Xichen to this side of him, the failed omega, desperate to fulfil his purpose and obsessed with his inability to do so, but he felt that this time, even if it was negative he was in a better place to deal with that, with his alpha, his mate, his husband, by his side.

It was positive, however, and it was a long time before Jiang Cheng was coherent enough at the news to discuss it with Lan Xichen, who held him close as he went from elated to terrified and back again over and over again.

The feelings only abated a little that night in bed, where they lay together in the soft sheen of the lamp behind Jiang Cheng, talking about their future.

“You’ll have to cut back on those ridiculous coffees you drink, baby.” Lan Xichen teased him gently, and Jiang Cheng frowned unhappily.

“Ugh, but where are the gossip mags going to get their photos from if I don’t go to the coffee shop?” He grinned suddenly, “I can’t wait to maternity it up, they are going to get so many baby bump shots. Infertile, separate beds, hah,” he ground his teeth in irritation, then forgot it just as quickly as he went through another plateau of delight at the thought their child growing tenaciously in his belly.

#xichengclipse2020 #xicheng #alpha/beta/omega verse #mpreg #struggling to become pregnant #mdzs fanfic #Shay's stuff

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softbiker · 5 years

Text

Born to Run - Chapter 4

Warnings: some language, descriptions of injuries

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: this chapter features a proposition, some explanations, and an intro to a new character :) the response to this series has been overwhelming! I did not expect it to get very popular lol. As always, let me know what you think!

Steve flicked the cigarette he was holding and returned it to his lips. Its glowing tip lit his face from underneath as he took a slow drag, then exhaled through his nose, letting the smoke float around his face.

“She did a damn good job, way better than Barton.”

“Under pressure, too.”

“Does she have anybody here? Family or friends?”

Sam and Steve turned to Bucky, who had his arms crossed while he listened to their exchange.

“No one,” he shook his head. “She’s alone in that house.”

“That’s good,” Steve nodded. “Less of a risk.”

“So…” Sam looked between the two of them. “We all agree?” Steve raised his eyebrows at Bucky.

“No,” Bucky frowned. “But I know I can’t stop you.”

***********************************************************************

A week after the carnival, Y/N finally understood a bit more about her situation. After applying careful pressure to Charlotte, she learned that Mr. Van Horn’s use of the word “gang” was not a stylistic choice: Barnes and his friends run a motorcycle club called the ‘Avengers’ that had quite the reputation around town. Some feverish googling revealed that no criminal charges had ever been filed against the members, but it didn’t stop people from being suspicious. Several local news articles accused them of a string of vandal acts in 4 neighboring counties, spray-painting a skull and crossbones on public buildings and signs.

Y/N kept a close eye out for her neighbor after that - she listened for his motorcycle leaving the house and planned her own trips around his absence. She had the locks changed on the front door and went to the hardware store for a security alarm for the front and back doors of the house. Still, she was on edge whenever she was at home, alone in her quietly creaking house, with nothing but the sound of the TV for company. She started taking melatonin to help herself get to sleep at night.

As far as she could tell, Bucky was making no attempt to see her, either. He often left his house late at night and returned sometime after she had left for work, or stayed gone for a couple days at a time. If he worked a real job she couldn’t tell what it was - his comings and goings were so sporadic there was no way he was holding down a 9 to 5 somewhere. In any case, Y/N was just glad that their opposing schedules never allowed their paths to cross.

A week after the carnival, Y/N was sitting in her office at the clinic, filling out invoices for supplies. As a kid, she never imagined being a doctor would involve so much paperwork and planning, but somehow the dull minutiae of “real” jobs would always catch up with you. She puffed out a sigh and leaned back in her chair, refreshing the email page on her desktop. A reminder for a birthday party she wouldn’t be able to attend popped up, along with a student newsletter from her medical college she kept forgetting to unsubscribe to. She went back to her invoices.

A knock at the door startled her from her pile of paperwork. Charlotte poked her head in.

“Um, exam room 1,” she squeaked, clearing her throat before she continued. “The patient is ready in exam room 1.”

“Oh,” Y/N frowned. “I thought we had seen our scheduled patients already this morning? Is it an emergency visit?”

Charlotte’s eyes darted to the side before she nodded.

“Alright, then.” Y/N stood from her desk and slipped her lab coat back on. “What am I in for?”

“Um...I think you should just see for yourself.” Charlotte’s voice was tight, an octave higher than usual. She scurried back to her place at the front desk before Y/N could ask her anymore questions.

With her mind spinning a thousand worst-case scenarios, walked down the hall and opened the door to exam room 1.

Fuck.

The room was practically at capacity with the 3 burly men occupying it. On the exam table, swinging his long legs, was a smiling Steve Rogers; Sam Wilson sat in the chair next to him, browsing a pamphlet on STDs; and leaning against the wall next to the door was the man she tried so desperately to avoid - Bucky Barnes, in the flesh. His thick arms were crossed over his chest as he glared at the other two men, not sparing her a glance.

“Hi, doc.” Steve lifted his hand in a small wave. “I came to check up on my stitches.” Sam looked up over his pamphlet and waved, too. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed.

“And you needed two friends to come with you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rogers nodded.

“We’re here for moral support,” Sam piped up.

“Uh huh.” She glanced at Bucky again, who continued to give her the cold shoulder. “Okay. Should only take a couple of minutes.”

She washed her hands, worked on a pair of gloves, and stepped closer to examine Steve’s forehead. Having three large, and reportedly dangerous, men in one small exam room with her set her nerves on edge. Their complete silence while they watched her certainly didn’t help at all, but she was nothing if not a professional, so she took her pen light from the pocket of her lab coat and leaned into his personal space as if it didn’t bother her.

“Hm. This has healed up nicely, Mr. Rogers,” she nodded, tucking the light away.

“Just Steve is fine.”

“Steve, then. Let me just cut these stitches out and then you can be on your way.”

“Sounds good.”

She opened the cabinets above the sink and pulled out some bandages, scissors, tweezers, and alcohol wipes, laying them all out on a moveable tray next to the exam table. She could feel Bucky’s eyes on her and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Still, he was silent as he kept his place by the door.

While she wiped down the area and started clipping the stitches, Sam made light small talk - asking about her weekend, how she was enjoying the clinic and the town, if she’d be going out of town for Labor Day. Y/N wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all, but gave him polite, short answers. She never asked him about himself, but she’d prefer to stay at arms length of all these men.

She swiped the cut again with an alcohol wipe and then covered it with a bandage, stepping back from the table.

“Alright, you’re all done, Steve.”

“Thank you, doc,” Steve smiled appreciatively. “You do good work.”

Y/N shrugged, tugging her gloves off and tossing them in the trash.

“It’s not like you really have a lot of options.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, looking at Sam. “Which is why...we have a proposition for you.”

Y/N blinked. Had she heard him correctly?

“What does that mean?”

“I think you must have heard about us by now, doc,” Sam said, rising from his chair. “The Avengers could use a medic like you.”

“We’re...accident prone,” Steve added. “And as you know, there’s not a hospital nearby, so we’re stuck with having one of our members doing a little first aid whenever we get beat up. But having a real doctor around? Could really save our asses.”

“I’m sorry...what exactly is it that you’re asking me to do?”

“It’s just some extra work on the side. After clinic hours, you’d be available for a member of our club if they needed any medical care. We could come to your place or bring you to the clubhouse, we’ll get you any supplies you need. And of course we’ll pay you.”

Steve was calm and confident while making his pitch, Sam standing beside him and watching her closely. Y/N’s brain was spinning. They were basically asking her to join their motorcycle club, right? Staying at the clubhouse and patching up their buddies? What the fuck was happening. She looked over at Bucky, who had stayed silent this entire time. His eyes were on her now, and they looked...wary. Tired. It was like he was asking her something but she just couldn’t hear him.

“No, I’m afraid I’m not interested.”

“Not interested? In getting extra money for doing your job?” Sam’s eyebrows went up.

“My job is running this clinic, not playing nurse for a biker gang,” Y/N fumed. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “You’ve really got some nerve coming in here and telling me that - but I took out your stitches and answered your question, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”

She crossed her arms, giving the three of them a final glare before opening the exam room door and motioning for them to get out. The men shuffled out, their massive height filling the doorway. Steve glanced at her as he passed.

“If you change your mind, the offer is still on the table,” he said. Then they were gone.

Back in her office, Y/N slumped forward and laid her head on her desk. What the hell was that? How was this happening to her? ‘Young doctor moves to a small town, joins a biker gang’ sounded like a really bad premise for a movie.

She ate her lunch alone at her desk, obsessing over the situation. Joining a biker club was insane. Completely batshit. There was no chance in hell she would consider it. But on the other hand...Steve had said they would pay her. How much could they offer? She had to admit, she was weakly tempted by the money. If an extra paycheck helped her pay off her student loans faster, she could get out of here...move back to the city, back to her life. Her texts were full of friends begging her to come back and visit, sad that she was stuck in the middle of nowhere. Besides Charlotte, she hadn’t really managed to make a lot of connections here. It was lonely and hard...and patching up a few bikers on the side for a year or so could get it all over with.

But no, she told herself. Still not worth it. Absolutely not worth getting arrested when the Avengers got busted for drugs or human trafficking or murder. These bikers could end up ruining the rest of her life. No way. She’d take the slower, safer route, even if it was more boring.

Around mid-afternoon, Stacey, one of her other nurses, announced another walk-in patient.

“He says he wants you to look at his shoulder, he thinks he might have injured it in a football game,” she shrugged. Y/N nodded and slipped into the exam room.

Yet another large, muscular man in her clinic - where was this town getting all of these beefy men? He had removed his leather jacket and was sitting on her exam table in a white t-shirt and jeans; his hair was shaved on the sides and longer on top, slicked back from his forehead, and his arms were covered in tattoos. He had a nice enough face, she thought, even though he looked like his nose had been broken one too many times, and there was something...shifty about him. A little greasy.

“Good afternoon Mr…” she glanced at her chart. “Rumlow, is it?”

“Oh, you can call me Brock,” he smiled, a little sleazy.

“Okay, Brock. So it’s your shoulder bringing you in today?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay. Let’s have a look then.”

He nodded and pulled off his shirt before she could tell him not to, revealing even more tattoos across his muscled skin. He turned halfway, showing her his right shoulder.

“Oh, wow. Um, well there’s a lot of bruising here,” she said, stepping closer. The skin all around his shoulder and collarbone was bruised purple and blue. “How did this happen?”

“Playing football with some buddies,” he sighed, turning to give her that smile again. “I guess we like it a little rough.”

“Hm.” She ignored his comment. “Can you rotate it?”

She tested his range of motion, felt the area and asked about his pain. She brought Stacy back in and did an X-ray, to check for a break in his humerus. The results all seemed fine, which was a relief, as she was starting to feel uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her.

“Well, the good news is that you don’t have any broken bones - I think you just have some really deep bruising from the impact,” she said, putting her X-rays to the side. “So I would advise you to just be gentle with it, take it easy, and put some ice on it every day. The muscles need a little time to heal - so no football for now.”

“Alright, doctor’s orders,” Rumlow raised his hands in surrender.

“Anything else?” Y/N asked politely, ready to be out of the room.

“Well...now that you mention it,” he said slowly, pulling his t-shirt back over his head. “I was wondering if you were taking on any new patients. No special conditions - other than a sweet tooth, that is.” There was something in his smile, like he knew something she didn’t. She cleared her throat.

“If you’d like for us to keep your information on file, you can ask Charlotte at the front desk and fill out some paperwork,” she nodded.

“Alright then.” He hopped off the table and turned to slip his jacket back on. She could see a skull and crossbones tattoo on the back of his neck.

“Have a good day, Mr. Rumlow.”

“Brock.”

“Right.” She held the door for him and was glad when he was down the hallway and out of sight.

*************************************************************************

Y/N was in bed by 9:00 that night, too tired to care. Maybe living in an old woman’s house was turning her into the spinster she had always feared. But today was just too much, and she crawled into her bed with her clothes still on and passed out.

She woke to someone pounding on her front door.

Blearily she glanced at her alarm clock - 2:05 am. Why would someone be here at that hour? The pounding continued as she dragged herself out of her warm covers and stumbled towards the front door, remembering to grab her pepper spray off the lanyard on her nightstand. She crept up to the door on soft, silent feet, waiting for the banging to stop.

“Who is it?” she yelled when they took a break.

“Bucky,” he called, sounding exhausted. “Please, open the door?”

She hesitated, her hand hovering over the knob. This man was the rumored enforcer of a dangerous motorcycle club. She should not help him or be his friend, or let him in to her house at 2 in the morning.

“Please?” he called again. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear. I just...need your help.”

She sighed. Probably more stitches, or a broken hand from punching someone. Y/N turned the lock and swung the door open. Bucky was leaning hunched against the door frame, one of his hands pressed to his stomach. In the glow of the porchlight she could see it was covered in blood, soaking the lower half of his shirt. He looked up weakly when the door opened, giving her an apologetic look.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he panted. “I’m sorry.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader fic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au #avengers #avengers fic #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic

220 notes · View notes

keeroo92 · 5 years

Note

Commission Request: AU with V, Vergil, & fem reader for delicious threesome. The 3 are a team of demon hunters that have worked together for a while. Both V & Vergil want reader & reader wants both of them. They think reader is sweet & bubbly (which she is) but when they get her into the bedroom (or wherever); they are extremely surprised that she is, in fact very dominant. More dominant than both of them. There is this competition between these 3 for dominance but reader ends up winning.

Thank you so much for the commission! It’s always a pleasure writing for you

Word count - 5,099

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Sweat dripped from your chin, falling to mix with the blood already splashed across the cobblestone underfoot. Light spilled through the tangled branches overhead and dappled the area in patches of yellow. The scent of copper was thick in the frozen air, but it didn’t bother you; it hadn’t for years.

Only the sound of rapid breathing broke the stillness as the last Caina dissolved into ash. Clouds of steam accompanied every exhalation from you and your two best friends and teammates. Three sets of lips twisted as one, adrenaline fading into the familiar surge of relief that came after every battle, even after all these years.

“Sweet, we survived another one! Once the client pays us, first round’s on me!” you said with a cheerful grin.

Your white-haired companion shook his head as he sheathed his elegant blade. He was the most serious of your trio, always seeking to improve his skills and training with a dedication that bordered on obsession. No doubt he’d refuse, as he always did. You mentally counted back from five and bit the inside of your cheek when he spoke as if on cue.

“I’ll have to decline; my parries need work.”

You shared an amused glance with your second companion, flashing a hand signal behind your back. His lips split open as he flashed it back at you – he’d been counting, too.

His black hair shone as he stepped out of the shade, emerald eyes twinkling with humor. He was always ready with a witty one-liner or strange observation, helping to counter Vergil’s serious nature with laughter. Not to say he didn’t take the job seriously, not even close. V was one of the most focused people you’d ever known. Once he set his sights on something, it was only a matter of time before he reached it.

“No rest for the damned. Or the perfectionist,” he quipped.

Vergil huffed, taking the bait even though he really ought to know better by now. “There’s nothing wrong with having high standards.”

“On that much, we can agree,” V replied, his eyes flashing your way.

“Not on anything else, though,” you chimed in, retracting your wrist blade with a wry grin. The two men shared an indecipherable look as they followed you down the sidewalk, heading back toward home base.

Your mind wandered as your trio traversed the area, lingering on the two men as always. It was impossible to pinpoint the exact moment your feelings changed, but that wasn’t the issue at hand.

No, the issue at hand was how the heck to deal with it.

All the tired clichés and excuses rattled around in your head. You didn’t want to risk losing their friendship, what if they felt the same but things went wrong, what if it was just a passing crush… blah, blah, blah. Still, that wasn’t the worst of it.

The worst of it was that you had feelings for both of them.

You’d been in love before, but never with more than one person at the same time. It both thrilled and scared you, forcing you to reevaluate your self-image. For weeks, you struggled with guilt and shame, mind stuck on the classical understanding of a relationship. Two people, no more. Add a third and it became complicated.

Some people did it well, but you didn’t think you were one of them.

And there was no way in hell you could ever choose one of them over the other. They were both equally important to you, though for different reasons.

Vergil kept you from slacking, always encouraging you to keep working on your skills or interests whatever they were. The few times you went to him for advice, he’d helped you construct a step by step plan to resolve the issue and would ask about your progress a few days later. He helped you become the best version of yourself, one day at a time. He was a warrior, a man with unshakable honor and integrity. His stubbornness and insistence on quality could be annoying, but if that was the worst of it you couldn’t really complain. He inspired you.

V kept you from taking everything too seriously. His sarcastic jokes and witty puns always made you laugh, even in the darkest circumstances. He was an old soul, the weight of wisdom in his emerald eyes yet he still acted like a child. He had simple dreams of a peaceful life and a home by the sea, and no matter what was stressing you out he would sit and listen for as long as you needed. He was one of those rare people that didn’t try to fix your problems for you, simply offering his understanding and comfort while you sorted things out for yourself. He believed in your ability to handle things, but would always be there to cheer you on or help you stand up again. He supported you.

To lose either of them was unthinkable.

Your trio turned the last corner toward home, walking the familiar asphalt toward the grey building. It wasn’t much to look at on the outside. Slate panels and unremarkable architecture, two trees and a few shrubs dotting the tiny yard.

“I’ll get dinner started,” V said. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at his backside as he walked to the front door, saving the image for later.

Inside, the home was completely different. Classical European furniture complemented the elaborate wallpaper, dark oak floors with thick plush rugs on the ground floor and soft carpet upstairs in the bedrooms. Bookshelves lined the walls, almost every room had two or more. Various portraits and landscape paintings in heavy frames hung on the walls, lit with special lights V installed. All in all, it felt like a palace or a museum.

Home sweet home.

Vergil turned toward the training room, probably going to work on his parries and leaving you to your own devices.

You sighed in resignation and headed to the heavy desk by the window. There was work to do, invoices to file and clients to charge. Tedious tasks, but crucial to the success of your business. You cracked your knuckles and dug in.

Roughly an hour passed with only the sound of shuffling papers and far off clangs of steel. A mouth-watering aroma spread through the home and your stomach rumbled its approval. The scent strengthened until you couldn’t stand it and set the paperwork aside to join V in the kitchen; the more help he had, the sooner you could eat some of his delicious cooking.

The man in black was humming as he stir-fried a mix of veggies. A metal pan sat at his elbow with a juicy roast at rest, chopped potatoes a thick bed beneath it.

“Wow… what’s the occasion?” you asked.

He gave the veggies another stir and turned his smirking face toward you. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You stepped closer to the roast to take a deep sniff, flooding your mouth at the savory smell. You stole a piece of potato and popped it in your mouth, moaning as the seasoning made your taste buds sing.

“This ib so gub!”

He raised an eyebrow, lips twitching in humor as you swallowed. “Thief. I’m afraid there are consequences to stealing.”

His honeyed voice and suggestive words sent a shiver down your spine. Did he know he was doing that? How could he not?

Well, two can play at that game!

You gave him a salacious grin and stole another potato. “Pfft, like what?”

He tutted and long fingers wrapped around your wrist as you brought the morsel to your mouth. His grip kept your hand from moving, so you angled your head under your fingers and released the snack so it fell right on your tongue.

“Like you get to fetch Vergil. Time to eat,” he replied.

“A fair punishment,” you said, grabbing one last potato as you headed for the training room.

Steel striking steel echoed in the hall, louder with every step. You found Vergil in the midst of his training, his blade slicing through the air to clang against the mechanized dummy’s attack. His form was perfect, fluid and agile, every muscle honed to perfection. Not a single motion was wasted, not a scrap of energy spent unless absolutely necessary.

And he’s shirtless…

Pale skin glistened with just a hint of sweat, shadows playing across the planes of his chest. His icy gaze was locked on his target as he stepped back to prepare another strike. You cleared your throat and tried not to show how much you enjoyed the view as he lowered his sword to face you.

“Dinner’s ready,” you said.

He hummed and sheathed the blade, reaching for a nearby towel to wipe away the evidence of his exertion. There was no stopping your eyes from following the path of the fabric. You’d never been jealous of an inanimate object before.

Vergil smirked. “You’re staring.”

Crap.

No point denying it…

“What, can’t a girl admire a nice view?”

He stepped closer, grabbing his shirt and vest but he didn’t dress. Instead he came closer still, standing less than a yard away from you and giving you an up-close look. You forced your expression to hide the heat pooling between your legs.

“Why look when you can touch?” he murmured.

Your eyes shot to his. First V, now Vergil? Why the hell were they teasing you so much tonight?

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, his arm extending to bring your hand to his sternum.

His skin was smooth and still heated from his practice. The air between you and the snowy-haired man crackled with tension as you spread your fingers and dragged your palm across his pecs. Your heart was racing, mind frozen and yet simultaneously spinning with questions you didn’t dare ask.

An exaggerated cough pulled your attention to the doorway to see V leaning on the frame, arms crossed and an annoyed expression on his features. Your hand dropped from Vergil’s chest and you shifted your weight, eyes searching for a safe area to look at.

“I thought we agreed, Vergil…” the tattooed man said.

Agreed? On what?

“Hmph. You know where I stand.”

What the fuck are they talking about?

V lowered his arms and joined you and Vergil, your bodies forming a triangle on the padded floor. His emerald eyes glittered as he looked at you, an unfamiliar darkness peeking through. Your breath hitched and lightning sizzled across your skin as his slim fingers rose to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I’ve seen the way you look at us, Y/N. You lack subtlety,” he informed you with a smirk.

Vergil growled, glaring at the poet as you internally smacked yourself. They knew. Was that why they teased you? Were they being serious or making fun of your feelings? Embarrassment rushed through you at the thought, followed quickly by anger.

“What the heck are you two talking about?” you asked. You weren’t admitting to anything until they confirmed it.

“We’ve discussed it between us and come to a conclusion,” Vergil began, dropping his shirt and vest. V circled around to stand behind you, his tattoos twitching.

A hand on your cheek dragged your eyes back to Vergil’s. V’s voice was velvet against your ear, his fingers stroking your waist. It felt delightful, despite the confusion. They were touching you, acting like they wanted you just as much as you wanted them and it was setting you on fire.

“It’s time to stop pretending. He who desires but act not, breeds pestilence.”

You lost the ability to respond as Vergil lunged forward to press his lips to yours.

Holy hell! Is this really happening?

You struggled to believe it; why tonight, after years of friendship, were they being so bold? Why now? Why not months ago and every day since? What took them so long?

Two sets of hands danced across your body as you opened to him with a soft whine. Blood rushed in your ears as your tongues met and you discovered Vergil’s unique taste. You trailed your palms up his chest, mapping his every crevice and curve and eliciting a sinful growl from the man. A shudder ran through you at the sound.

Fuck yes, this is finally happening!

Your hands flew to Vergil’s belt, tugging the strap loose with a swift jerk. Insistent fingers pulled at your shirt, lifting it to expose your stomach. Elegant digits caressed the sensitive area, a light pressure teasing at your core and you arched into V’s touch, aching for deeper contact. He didn’t disappoint you and dipped his fingertips lower, lower…

Come on, lower!

As if the man read your mind, his fingers reached for the fastenings of your pants and deftly forced them to the floor, taking your panties with them. You kicked the fabric away with a grin. He pressed against you, letting you feel his length as hot breath caressed your ear. “I’ve wanted this for a very long time.”

He went lower.

He teased at your folds, scraping a single finger against your clit. You gasped and pulled away from Vergil, leaning against V and angling your body to gain more friction as he traced circles around your bundle of nerves. The fire between your legs pulsated with every swirl, growing hotter and hotter by the second and sending a series of guttural moans loose from your lips. The white-haired man seized the opportunity and pulled away your shirt; seconds later your bra joined it on the floor.

V’s free hand kneaded your chest, skilled fingers rolling your nipple into a stiff peak. A growl escaped Vergil’s lips and he swatted away the poet’s palm, his mouth taking its place. His tongue laved across the tender flesh, hands wrapping around you on either side to pull you closer and subsequently away from V. The loss of contact was a splash of iced water on your arousal.

Vergil, you jackass!

The poet huffed in annoyance. His stroking fingers paused, leaving you slick and frustrated and whimpering. You tried to shift backward to regain his heat but Vergil’s grip held fast.

Are you fucking kidding me?

V solved the problem by pushing Vergil’s face away from your chest and replacing it with his palm.

Alright, that’s it!

“Both of you, knock it off! If I have to tie you up to enjoy myself, I will,” you said.

Behind you, V snorted. He had the grace to try and cover it with a cough, but you knew him too well. Vergil stared into your eyes with a smirk, daring you to even try restraining him.

“I’m not kidding.”

The smirk grew.

Fine. Two can play that game.

You turned around to face the poet. His eyes were blown wide, the familiar emerald tone almost lost in his pupils. His hand moved to your hip and rubbed circles, his other coming to rest wrapped around your back.

“Are you going to behave?”

His lips twitched, but he nodded. Good enough for now.

Your hands traced the dark lines covering his alabaster skin, his tattoos dancing in a display of his enjoyment under your touch. One palm drifted lower to tug his t-shirt away, the other higher to answer one of your more persistent fantasies. You tangled your fingers in his obsidian locks and tugged, forcing his head to the side.

The look on his face was glorious, lips parted to release a restrained moan, brows drawn together and eyes fluttering closed. Vergil’s sharp intake of breath only heightened your self-satisfaction and you couldn’t resist any longer.

A single step was all it took to close the gap between you and the poet and press your lips to his for a deep kiss. You wrapped yourself around the black-clad man, reveling in the taste of his soft lips, the scent of his skin mixed with leather, the blazing heat of his body. His hips bucked against yours as he pulled you closer and you indulged yourself with a few rough grinds on his length. Waves of pleasure cascaded through your flushed body.

At last you pulled away to breathe and take in the results of your efforts. V’s eyes were dark and hungry as he stared down at you. A light blush stained his normally pristine cheeks, swollen lips open to catch his breath.

“Maybe that’s for the best, I’m not sure you could handle it anyway, Vergil. Look what I did to poor V.”

Vergil tutted, his hands exploring your thighs and trailing lightning down your spine. The poet hummed his agreement, an amused smirk pulling at his lips as he shared a knowing look with you.

“Yes, it would be such a shame if you couldn’t last.”

Vergil scoffed in response and tugged you against his cock, pressing a row of blistering kisses on your neck and shoulders. He rutted against your ass and groaned, dragging one hand to your core and dipping inside to curl against your walls.

“I will last as long as is required,” he said.

“Vergil, behave!” you commanded, using the tone you normally reserved for battle.

His fingers withdrew, recognizing the intensity of your voice. You stepped away and glared at him, holding that icy gaze for a moment before realizing he wasn’t going to surrender. Not yet.

Fucking Sparda blood, I swear…

“V, take off your pants. Vergil, don’t move.”

The poet tore away his trousers, smirking at you as you watched him lower them inch by inch to reveal himself. He lifted an eyebrow as you licked your lips and beckoned him closer, crouching down to meet him.

You stroked V’s length with one hand, spreading precum across his shaft as you moved. He released an obscene moan, his head falling back in the grip of his pleasure. With another few strokes, you leaned forward and licked his tip, humming at the salty morsel. He rested one palm on the crown of your head as you filled your mouth with his cock, hollowing your cheeks and looking up at him. The sounds you made as you bobbed were filthy, using your tongue to map his every inch. Your other hand crept across his back, dipping lower and lower until you found the tight ring you were searching for. A soft swipe across was all it took to elicit a groan.

You grinned and withdrew. “Interesting…”

Vergil was still glaring where you left him, his irritation rolling off him in waves. It was almost cute to see how he sulked, but he’d done as you told him. He deserved a reward.

“Both of you, come here and get on all fours.”

The poet didn’t hesitate, smirking as he got comfortable. Vergil couldn’t hide the gleam in his icy eyes, but he made a show of huffing as he joined V. You almost giggled; you were going to break through every layer of his nonsense and leave him craving more.

You coated your fingers with your own fluids and took a position between them. Goosebumps erupted across V’s squirming tattoos as you dragged your fingernails down their spines simultaneously, murmuring praise and shifting your hips to find what little friction you could. The view was divine, both beautiful men sprawled out before you with their assets lifted and begging for attention. Vergil was still tense, but he’d get there in time.

The fluid on your digits made a perfect first coating and you paused to refresh it, indulging your aching clit with a few perfect strokes. Only the promise of what was to come brought your fingers back.

You probed V first, intent on rewarding his continuous good behavior. His hands spasmed on the training mat as you slid inside to the first knuckle, every line of his tattoos dancing across his pale skin as he moaned. You waited, giving him the chance to tell you to stop if he needed it, but he only shifted his hips, trying to get you further inside. His shoulders heaved in gasps as you twitched your finger, testing his sensitivity.

You’d never heard him curse so violently.

With a gleeful smile, you leaned closer to his ear, your words for him alone. “You look so good like this.”

“Mmm, you’ll look even better when it’s your turn…” he replied.

Your finger crept forward to the next knuckle and he cursed again, arms flexing and tattoos swirling. They moved erratically, a clear indication of his status he couldn’t hide. You turned your attention to Vergil, giving the poet a moment to relax before you destroyed him.

Vergil was watching your every move, clever eyes locked on where your finger was buried in his counterpart. He was much harder to read, but as you traced a fingernail over his opening there was no denying the twitch of his hips. His nostrils flared as you pressed gently, taking your time to let him adjust.

The flames of arousal between your legs were delicious torture and you shifted again, leaning over to whisper in Vergil’s ear. “Relax. I’ll take care of you.”

The cords of sinew running up his neck flexed and he turned his head to meet your eyes. He looked so lovely with a light tinge of blood in his cheeks and a determined glare in his cool depths. “Careful, Y/N. Don’t forget this is only happening because I allow it.”

Wanna bet?

You sank your finger deeper and curled it, scraping against him. V was being so good, you twitched for him as well. Both men cursed into the mat, bodies reacting more honestly than you could’ve imagined. Knowing you could bring them to this sent pulses of heady power rushing through your veins, pride and lust mixing together in a jolting cocktail.

“I want you to watch,” you told Vergil, pulling your finger back a fraction to threaten the consequences if he chose to refuse. He whimpered, a sound unlike anything you’d ever heard from the man as he turned his head to gaze at where you were buried inside V.

Wow. That was weirdly hot.

You sank into the poet, fully cocooning your finger in his body. His tattoos moved more chaotically than ever as he gasped, his dark hair falling forward to hide his face as you began massaging him. His arms trembled, his cries of delight fanning your own desire. You bent over and planted a row of kisses along his ribs, adding a nip here and there for good measure. He bit his lip and a look of pain twisted his regal features; instantly you stopped.

“You can’t hold it back much longer, can you?”

You glanced at Vergil, making sure he was paying attention to the poet’s response and caught your breath. His icy eyes were dilated to the point you could barely see the ring of blue, his cheeks and neck flushed in excitement as V moaned his confirmation against the mat. The white-haired man’s nostrils flared as you sank your finger home, his ability to restrain himself eroding with every touch and you reveled in the sense of power it gave you.

V looked like he was ready for more, his peak a safe distance away once more, yet you barely had to move for him to react. You split your focus between the two men, using up the last traces of your own fluids to bring them both to the brink of bliss and pulling out just before they unraveled.

You slid between them and curled against Vergil, pulling V along behind you. The poet’s full lips peppered your shoulders as you molded your mouth to Vergil’s, brushing strands of white out of his eyes.

He growled and shifted his hips, rutting against your thigh as his hands explored your body. Shivers of delight danced across your skin, lightning scorching your every nerve. You rolled onto Vergil, coating his length in your wetness with a soft moan.

“What’s the magic word?” you asked him with a wicked grin.

His lips moved but no sound came out. Damn. You shrugged as if it didn’t matter to you, then ground into his cock and brought V’s hand to your core. The poet didn’t hesitate, plunging his long fingers into you right over where Vergil’s angry, twitching cock rested and curling against your sensitive walls. You released an exaggerated moan and closed your eyes.

“Please,” Vergil whispered.

That’ll do.

V withdrew as you wrapped your fingers around Vergil’s shaft, giving him a few strokes before angling him at your entrance. His hands stroked your ribs and you shivered, taking his first few inches with a whimper. His lewd growl made you grin and you lowered yourself down until he was fully sheathed, stretching to your limits to fit him. There was the briefest moment of pain before you adjusted.

“Vergil… fuck…”

You leaned down to kiss him as you lifted your hips to drop on him again, gasping against his lips as he impaled you. His hands gripped your hips in a bruising hold, helping to lift you as you gained speed. You reached out to V, weaving your fingers together and leaning on him for added support. Grunts and sighs filled the air, mixing with the sound of slapping flesh as he lifted his hips to meet you, forcing himself even deeper. Vergil brought a hand to where you were joined, finding your clit with ease and helping you chase your peak. He tried different movements and pressure until he found one you liked.

“Right there, that’s it! Ver- Vergil!”

Bursts of white flashed in your vision as you keened his name and exploded into bliss. Every muscle clenched as one, wave after wave of ecstasy rolling through you until you could barely breathe. Vergil and V held you up together as the snowy-haired man ploughed against your shuddering walls, extending your release into an age.

When you finally came back down, you looked down at him with a wide smile. Pride stained his eyes, his lips turned up in a tiny grin of his own. “Told you I’d last as long as necessary.”

You snorted and looked at V. He had one inked hand wrapped around his cock, stroking just enough to stay hard. His eyes were locked on you and Vergil.

“I think it’s about time you joined us, V. Get behind me,” you said. His eyes gleamed in excitement and he positioned himself on Vergil’s legs.

The ocean-eyed man slowed his pace as V reached between you and gathered as much fluid as he could. Fingers rubbed against your second hole, probing within to help you prepare. You relaxed as much as you could, breathing into it as he brought his cock to bear. You pressed against Vergil’s hips to stop his insistent motion and gave V a smile.

He pressed forward at an achingly slow pace. His drawn-out groan was delightful, a euphoric expression on his face.

“Fuck…” the poet murmured.

“Wait until you feel it from this side,” Vergil replied.

You glared at him as V extended his middle finger with a smirk at the other man’s comment. His hips inched forward until they met yours and you marveled at the sensation of being stuffed to the brim by the two men you cared so much about. It was absolute perfection. You flexed your inner muscles around them, feeling every ridge buried in your depths and three voices moaned together in a blissful harmony.

You moved first, shifting your weight forward and bracing on Vergil’s broad chest. His arms came up to help, V’s on your hips. The poet leaned down to plant kisses on every patch of flesh he could reach, his own body moving to mirror yours. You nodded at Vergil when you were ready, and he lifted to join in.

This is incredible…

Heat pooled in your stomach as your trio gathered speed. It took a few minutes to synchronize but you didn’t care, as long as they kept going. Nothing else existed, maybe it never had. It felt like you were flying, never to touch land again.

Every sense filled with evidence of your enjoyment. The air smelled of sweat and sex, a heady perfume to go with the panting sighs and grunts. Beneath you, Vergil’s cheeks were pinker than you’d ever seen them, his eyes glazed over. His hair stuck out in every direction and you reached out to smooth it back, leaning down to kiss him for good measure. His arms cradled you against him and his cock tightened, his peak close.

“Cum for me,” you whispered, burying your face in the crux of his neck.

Vergil’s deep thrusts stuttered as he growled like a wild animal, pulsing in waves and filling you with his seed. His arms trembled, thick veins bulging. You pressed kisses against his neck, murmuring praise and reassurance as he rode out his pleasure. A satisfied smirk twisted his lips and you wiped away the beads of sweat from his forehead, your breath huffing every time V buried himself inside you.

The poet’s hands pressed into your lower back, forcing you into a different angle as he snapped forward. Having him pounding away at your ass right over Vergil while you were looking into his icy gaze set you on fire, bolts of energy zipping across your skin as he coaxed you closer and closer to a second climax.

Vergil brought his hands to your chest, kneading and pinching as he whispered absolute filth, telling you how much he was enjoying the show and that he looked forward to switching places with V next time. His words sent you hurtling over the edge and you wailed their names, arching back as he took your full weight.

The poet cursed, his tattoos a maelstrom as he followed you into paradise. Clouds of black demonic energy floated a mere inch off his skin, an aura of darkness surrounding his oddly pristine flesh and pale hair. He grunted and pulled out to spew his cum across your ass, pumping his length to get every drop. The inky shards sank back into his skin and hair as he panted and sat back on his knees, pushing his hair from his face.

You collapsed into Vergil’s arms, letting him shift you to the side. V crawled over and lied on your other side, still catching his breath. For several minutes, your trio was silent.

Maybe I can handle loving two people at once after all…

#commisions #v x reader #vergil x you #spicy #i mean jalepeno hot #fanfic #my writing #dmc #dmcv #dmc vergil #reader insert #devil may cry

108 notes · View notes

orwocolor · 5 years

Text

Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter Two

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Nothing.

Summary: Party time! Gwilym hosts a housewarming party and you’re one of the guests.

Author’s Note: Feedback is always appreciated :) Check my masterlist to find the preceding parts. As always, this fic is dedicated to @justgwilym.

“So, I thought that we should surprise Charlotte and throw her a birthday party,” Jane announces as soon as you pick up your phone.

“Yeah, that sounds great! Is it gonna be just an ordinary birthday party or something themed?” You hitch your bag up your shoulder and take three grocery bags into a hand while pressing the phone to your ear so that you can hear Jane. The traffic around you is crazy today. Honking of horns and a swear word here and there from nervous drivers create a cacophony of sounds in which those you wish to hear die down.

“I beg your pardon, my dear, but no celebration I hold is ordinary,” Jane scoffs and you roll your eyes.

“Ok, but is it going to be themed or not? If you want to force me into a disco-themed outfit like the last time, I wanna know beforehand, so I can pretend illness.”

“Hush, you loved it.”

You chuckle into your phone while you wait for the green light.

“But no, I plan on–” Jane’s words on the other end are drowned by the roar of a passing motorcycle.

“Sorry, what?” you shout. Your bag keeps sliding down your shoulder and you huff as you fail to hoist it up, with one hand grasping your phone and the other full as well, as the handles of the plastic bags dig into your skin.

“I said,” Jane raises her voice to the maximum and you jerk your head away from the phone. You pity everyone who’s standing right next to her when the volume is enough for your ear to start ringing, “I plan on throwing a themed party, however, there are no costumes required.”

“Oh, thank God!” You push your way through a group of teenagers and reach your home. “Hang on, I just…” You’re trying to figure out how to unlock and open the main door with all the stuff that you’re carrying and the phone in your hands. Jane continues in her monologue as if you didn’t say anything, but you pay her little attention. You squeeze the mobile in between your ear and shoulder, twisting your neck in a most uncomfortable angle. While the grocery bags form deep dark red lines on your right hand, you unzip the bag on your shoulder with the left, but as you dig down to fish your keys, the bag skids down the smooth material of your jacket and you barely catch it before it drops down.

You see a movement on the other side of the door through a long glass windowpane, but your own reflection blocks out the view. Suddenly, the door opens as if on its own accord.

“Hello,” Gwil greets you with a wide smile on his face and holds the door for you to come in.

“Thanks,” you mouth as Jane continues to list all perks of the last birthday party you organised for Charlotte.

“And what was so bad about your outfit? It was perfect!” she argues, quite poorly, in your opinion.

“Let’s just say that the days of me wearing spandex bell-bottoms are long gone.”

Gwilym snorts and gives you an amused look, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“What? Why?”

“Look, I gotta go, I’ll call you later and we’ll plan everything, okay?”

Placing the bags on the floor, you say your goodbye and hang up the phone.

“Hi,” you greet Gwil properly, tossing your phone into your bag and finally digging out the keys.

“I’ll help you,” he says as you move to lift the plastic bags, but Gwil beats you to it and grasps the handles easily in his large hand.

“Thanks! And thanks for the door, too, you’re a lifesaver.” Your eyes skim over your mailbox, but there are no mails poking out of it. Good.

“You’re welcome,” he says as you begin to climb the stairs, side by side, and his lips curve in a smile matching your own. “I would just like to clarify that I was just collecting my mail when I saw you struggling out there,” he shows you the envelopes in his grasp, “I wasn’t lurking in the shadows, waiting for your arrival or anything.”

“Well, but now it sounds like you did exactly that,” you dead-pan and enjoy the way his eyebrows raise in shock.

“I really didn’t, I swear,” he protests with vigour and you can’t resist a grin.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” you laugh as you reach the second floor. “I’m only teasing you,” you smirk, and he breathes a sigh of relief, a light shade of pink gracing his cheeks.

“So,” you start, “is tomorrow still on?”

“Yes, absolutely! There’ll be a few of my friends and colleagues, but nothing too big.”

“Should I bring something? A housewarming gift? What do you even like?” Damn it, you probably should, right? It would be rude to attend a party and give nothing to the host.

“Just bring your lovely self and I’ll be happy,” he flashes you a smile.

“Pff, please! That’s so cheesy! But okay, if you don’t wanna tell, I’ll figure it out myself.”

Reaching your floor, he hands you the bags and pulls out his keys.

“See you tomorrow, then.”

“At seven?”

“At seven,” he confirms.

“Bye,” you smile and turn the key in the door.

“Just one question,” Gwilym says in a suddenly very serious tone, which makes you expect the worst, “spandex bell-bottoms?”

You laugh out loud. “Don’t ask!”

It’s a quarter to eight when you finally get out of your apartment and ring the doorbell at Gwil’s. You didn’t want to arrive among the first guests; you wanted to be fashionably late. Okay, okay, forty-five minutes is hardly fashionable, but who could blame you? You did not dare to come when there were only a few of his friends. The only person, except for Gwil, that you know is Ben and you had to make sure that he would be there by the time you appeared. But you didn’t wish to watch the party guests heading to the flat 3C through a peephole like some kind of a pervert. So, while you were waiting, you busied yourself around your apartment, tidied up the kitchen, organised the one shelf in the hall which had been driving you up the wall every time you saw the mess inside, and watered your plants.

“You’re late,” are the first words that leave Gwil’s mouth the moment he opens the door and music reaches your ears.

You squint your eyes and nod your head. “I know, I’m sorry. There’s been a traffic jam.”

“A traffic jam. Between your flat and mine.” A small smile is playing on his lips and you catch yourself staring at his mouth. Blinking, you snap out of your daydreaming and focus on the conversation at hand.

“Uh-huh. It was awful! You should have seen it.”

“Right,” he chuckles and makes a motion for you to come in.

“Y/N!”

“Ben! Good to see you!” The blonde man wraps you in a bear hug and sways with you from side to side. It’s a bit unexpected, but once he lets go of you, you notice the bottle of beer and you guess it’s probably not his first this evening.

(What you miss, however, is the silent conversation Ben and Gwil have over your shoulder. Gwil’s eyes widen as Ben throws himself at you, and he gives him a confused, what-are-you-doing look. But all Ben does in response is raise his eyebrows in a manner that could only be translated as and-what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it.)

“I think we haven’t been introduced yet,” an unknown voice says, and you turn after the sound. You’re met with a sweet smile, kind eyes, a pointy nose, and a tuft of auburn hair. “I’m Joe, pleasure to meet you.” He squeezes your offered hand and his thumb gently strokes your inner wrist.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Gwil’s neighbour.”

“Now, you seem like a really nice girl,” he begins and you’re listening intently, curious where this is going, “I’ve known you for only a few seconds but I can tell that you’re a good person and I don’t want you to come to harm. So, please, please, do not eat the salmon canapés. Instead, try the bruschetta, which is, in my humble opinion, far more superior. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, nodding solemnly.

“Nah, someone’s just a sore loser and can’t accept that people prefer my delicious canapés,” Ben explains, “because the bruschetta he talks about? It’s inedible and guess who made it.”

“How dare you, inedible?” Joe puts his hand on his chest in faking a heart attack, “you’re gonna pay for that, Hardy!”

“I forgot to order some food that the guests could nibble on, so I asked these two idiots to bring something. Should have known that this was going to change into a pissing contest,” Gwilym whispers into your ear, leaning down to you while Ben and Joe keep bickering.

“Well, I’m having fun,” you admit, and he gives you an appreciative smile. “By the way, here’s something for you.”

You pull two gift bags from behind your back and pass them to him.

“I told you not to,” he says but quickly opens them to see what’s inside.

“I wasn’t sure whether you preferred red or white, so I’ve brought both,” you tell him, all of a sudden unsure and nervous.

“I love red, but I’ve never turned down any wine. Thank you. And what’s in this?”

He takes out a neatly wrapped parcel with a dark green ribbon tied around. Delicately unsticking the tapes that hold the cardboard-brown paper together, he unwraps it without tearing it and inspects the front cover of a book. You bite your lower lip and hold your breath, waiting for his reaction.

“The Invoice by Jonas Karlsson. Wait, isn’t he the one who wrote The Room?”

“Yes! You know him?” Your heart is pounding and you can’t believe your ears. What are the odds that Gwil would know one of your most favourite authors?

“Of course, he’s excellent! Thank you so much, I’ve been meaning to buy it for ages now!” He leafs through it briefly and almost starts bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It would probably be rude to just disappear and go read it, huh? Don’t answer,” he chuckles and turns around to put the book into his bookshelf. “Come, I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

He walks you around his living room, always stopping by small groups of people. Their names are forgotten the moment they utter them as it usually is in gatherings like these when you’re met with a lot of people in a short span of time. One of the few who catches your attention is Gwil’s brother Geraint, who, according to Gwil, wasn’t invited and decided to stop by anyway.

“Can you believe that my little brother did not send me an invite to his housewarming party? Me, who actually helped him to move in? The audacity.” He shakes his head at Gwil and gives him a playful shove. What you can’t believe is someone describing Gwilym as ‘little’, since he’s anything but that. Truth be told, Geraint is probably an inch taller than his brother, but still.

“I thought you were gonna be home with the kids?”

“Shannon’s with them. I wouldn’t have missed this,” he winks.

Eventually, you end up with Ben and Joe while Gwilym tends his other guests. With a glass of wine in your hand, you look around his flat. It’s identical to yours in terms of the room arrangement, the only exception the wall that separates the living room space from the kitchen. It’s not exactly what you imagined, though. You don’t know why, but you expected a lot of grayscale tones and minimalism. Probably because Gwil looks like he’s a model who just stopped posing for a photoshoot, even whilst wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans. No, his living room is decorated in brown, gold and green hues with a lot of knick-knacks on every flat surface. Postcards that his friends have sent from all over the world, playbills from plays he’s been in, small clay figures and drawings that his nephews and nieces have made for him, and all sorts of keepsakes.

Even though he’s been living in this flat for only a fortnight, it is apparent that he’s taken great care to make the place his home. Yes, there are still some unopened boxes hidden from prying eyes of his guests, but the flat is already homely. (Look, it was an accident that you caught a glimpse of them when you were passing his bedroom and he had forgotten to close the door.)

“So, you’re leaving in two days?”

“Yeah, need to head back home,” Joe replies, “but first, these two are going to do a pub crawl with me!” He slings his arm around Ben’s shoulder and kisses him on a cheek, “wanna join us?” His words are slightly slurred and he shifts his weight so that he basically leans against Ben.

“Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got a movie night with my friends.”

“Really? What are you guys going to watch?” Ben asks as he pushes Joe to a nearby chair.

“Don’t know yet. We’re coming over to Charlotte’s place so she’s the one who has the right to pick something.”

“Okay guys, screw you, I’m gonna watch something with Charlotte,” Joe howls from the chair.

“Nobody’s invited you, mate,” Ben chuckles and notices Gwil watching you three intently from the other side of the room. Now or never. “Erm, Y/N?” he asks and leans closer to you, “can I ask you something?” he whispers and you involuntarily shorten the distance between you, so that you can hear him.

“Yeah, sure, what is it?” you frown, finding the shift in the mood weird.

He puts his warm palm on your bare arm and starts stroking it slowly.

“I need you to do something for me.”

“Y/N! I think you haven’t tasted the cake, yet!” You and Ben jump away from each other as Gwilym suddenly materialises right next to you.

“There’s a cake?”

“Yes, there is, come on,” he insists and leads you far away from Ben.

“What are you doing?” Joe asks, confused.

“Trust me,” Ben answers, mischief sparkling in his eyes and a delighted smile on his face.

“Wow, Gwil, it looks amazing!” you say when you enter the kitchen and spot the cake on the counter, ready to be cut. It’s a naked chocolate cake with mascarpone, blueberries and raspberries. Gwilym has also put several edible flowers to create a delicate look.

“Thanks,” he blushes and rubs the back of his neck.

“And you made it?” He says yes and you’re astonished. “You need to give me the recipe. It’s incredible! My friend’s gonna have a birthday soon and I would love to make something like that for her.”

“Sure,” he smiles and after a few minutes of contemplation he adds, “or I could help you make it if you want.”

“Yes! You’re the best. Thank you.”

He pulls out a sharp knife out of the knife holder. “Would you do the honours?”

“See, it’s clear you don’t know me that much otherwise you wouldn’t trust me with sharp objects,” you laugh, taking the knife from his hand.

“I’ll take my chances,” he chuckles and lays out a bunch of dessert plates.

Working side by side, you cut the cake and place each piece on one of the plates. Every time a blueberry falls of and rolls on the counter, you play a game of catching it and promptly eating it. The first time your fingers brush Gwil’s, you’re quick to draw your hand away and let him win that round. There are no electric shocks or sparks, but the mere touch of his skin makes your breath hitch and your hands slightly tremble. But then it happens again, and again, and soon you’re grinning and nudging each other’s shoulders.

“Here, have a bite.” Gwil pushes a fork of cake towards your face and you willingly open your mouth.

The soft texture of the sponge perfectly combines with the mascarpone and the fruit provides a tang of sourness, complementing the sweetness of the chocolate cake. You catch yourself moaning involuntarily around the fork, which makes you absolutely thunderstruck, your eyes snapped wide and a shock written in your face.

“You have a bit of mascarpone…” Gwilym says and brings his thumb to a corner of your lips. However, he stops immediately, only a few millimetres away from your skin.

The door swings open out of nowhere and the bubble you have created around yourselves pops.

“Hey guys, how are you?” Joe’s smiling face pokes out of the living room, his cheeks flushed.

Gwilym clears his throat and withdraws his hand, passing you a stack of napkins. “We’re good, just about to serve the cake.” Gwilym points to the plates in front of him and Joe immediately pushes a chair to the counter, takes one plate and starts shovelling down the piece of cake.

Wiping your mouth clean, you look at the clock. “Actually, I have to go. I work weekends and I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”

“What? I thought…” Gwilym begins to say when Ben bursts into the kitchen.

“Joe, what the hell? What were you thinking?”

“Look, Ben, I’m going home. Hopefully, we’ll see each other again soon, okay?” You give him a hug. “And Joe, don’t get too drunk tomorrow. Travelling by plane when hungover is no walk in the park.” You turn to Gwilym and clasp your hands, tugging at your fingers in a jittery manner. “I guess we’ll run into each other soon again. See you, guys!”

And with that, you leave the kitchen and head towards the door, waving at Geraint, who reciprocates the gesture with a smile.

“Y/N, wait!” Gwil rushes after you and catches up with you right at the moment you open the door. “I just wanted to thank you, for everything. It was really nice to have you here.” He takes you by surprise when he gives you a quick hug and presses a light kiss on your cheek.

“Yeah, I had the time of my life, really,” you smile when he lets go of you, hoping that the butterflies you feel in your stomach are invisible to everyone else, “love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Thanks,” he says sheepishly. “I would love to be a gentleman and walk you home, but…” he points to the few feet between your flats.

“Yeah, I think I’ll manage,” you chuckle and move to your door, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Shutting the door behind you, your fingers touch your cheek as the ghost of the kiss makes your skin tingle with excitement.

#gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee fic #gwilym lee fluff #multichapter #fluff #vee writes #*mine

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danetobelieve · 4 years

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Car Shellsman || Alain and Winston

Despite a giant crustacean attacking their car and forcing Winston to run away with a weirdo who would then go onto buy them lunch, Winston managed to get their car to Babineaux Garage. They had to admit that they were starting to wonder whether mechanics were bound by the laws of an automotive equivalent of patient and doctor confidentiality. There was a giant rent down the side of their car, starting on the left side of the bonnet and taking an immediate sharp left down it’s side, ending in the wheel arch. Not to mention the already pre-existing problems with the car. Gently, carefully, they wheeled their vehicle into the garage and came to a neat stop. Stepping out of the vehicle, they headed towards the ‘office’ section of the garage. “Hey,” they said adjusting their thick lenses as they spotted a somewhat dishevelled mechanic that they thought they might’ve spoken to online, “we spoke online, I was the guy with the rattling car… that chugged out a load of smoke.” They really hoped that this mechanic didn’t notice the giant sheet of torn car bonnet.

Alain was doing bookkeeping when he heard what he suspected was the rattling car from that guy online. Yeah, that did not sound good at all, like someone shaking a box of rocks underneath it. The exhaust system, probably. He did not look up from his computer screen, however, his eyes narrowing at what the software was telling him to do. He hated this goddamn thing. Things would have been a lot easier had it been done on paper. “Fait chier,” he mumbled under his breath, spinning in his chair to get a look at his invoices. Scratching the back of his head, he glanced up at a young looking person, happy to get a break from the paperwork. “Alright, let’s have a look,” standing up from his chair, he headed in the garage. The first thing he noticed was the giant sheet of torn car bonnet. What the fuck. A loose catalytic converter, ok, that was normal. This? No. This car was a wreck. Between the car body and the converter, this would not be cheap. “You cannot drive with your hood looking like that. You’ll get arrested.” What the actual fuck.

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston winced at the obvious sight of the hood. Swallowing somewhat awkwardly, they shrugged gently. “Uh, I don’t know what to tell you other then it wasn’t like that when I left the house, you probably wouldn’t even believe me if I did tell you what happened…” They trailed off and shuffled their feet. Their car was a touchy subject. It had never really run well, even when they got it. But then again by the time it made its way into their possession it had already been around the block thousands of times. “Normally I wouldn’t be driving this,” another lie, Winston drove everywhere they could, “but the truth is that I really need it to get to and from college, I can’t really afford to pay for a bunch of body work right now so maybe we could … I don’t know … patch it up with duct tape or something and try and make sure that it stops overheating.” They were hoping to avoid a fiery death if they possibly could but it seemed unlikely with the now trademarked bag of rocks sound that their car was making. “Can you save her?”

“Huh,” scoffing, the mechanic rubbed at the back of his neck. Of course Alain had seen cars in worse shape, but they were usually classic cars people had bought and wanted to be made brand new again. This, was a whole other situation and another kind of damage too. “Try me, you have no idea what stories I’ve heard in the past,” obviously his stories weren’t as wild as stories someone working at the ER could hear but still, people were never proud of their accidents. Alain walked around the car, running his hand on the dent on the left side. “If you’re going to be using duct tape, you’ll be the one responsible for that. I don’t want to be associated with that kind of job,” he took pride in his work, and that was simply unacceptable. Of course he was used to broke kids crashing his garage and expecting a discount because they would rather get a new pair of brand new Nikes rather than save a couple of bucks in case of such scenarios. The entitlement was terrifying. “So, just to be sure, you are completely broke, and I should save your car because…?” His hands on both hips, Alain was now chewing on his lower lip and shaking his head slowly.

“Well, the car overheated, but that isn’t that weird, it does that a couple of times a year and normally if you just leave it to cool down then it is completely fine,” Winston paused a little guilty. Cars weren’t meant to just overheat and they knew that. “Then after that I was accosted by a woman jogging who said it looked like a shit car and a shit car had had sex and given birth to this beautiful baby,” they rubbed the roof of their car affectionately, “it was at that point a giant lobster and / or crab thing turned up and assaulted my poor automotive.” They raised an eyebrow about the comment on duct tape. “Well, y’know I was joking about using duct tape but whatever you feel would be the best tool for the job, I trust your professional expertise.” They hated it when someone tried to tell them how to do their job when it came to working with computers, they were sure Alain felt the same way about cars. “Obviously I will pay whatever the work costs, but I’m a college student who works an unpaid internship and inherited this car from my elder siblings, it has a lot of sentimental value. If I can save her I want to, I’d rather not scrap her for the sake of it.”

“Did you ask her out ? She sounds lovely”, Alain commented as he squatted and had a look at the back of the car, putting on gloves before he grabbed the exhaust pipe to shake it a little bit. As he expected, that thing was loose, and that fella’ was lucky it had not fallen down on the road. “A giant lobster?” His eyebrows raised up on his forehead. This was .. interesting. Even if he did not have a habit of going after beasts, the variety of them always astonished him. At least, with vampires, you had a certain routine, the night, the solid ground. Beast hunters could easily end up several feet above the ground, or beneath the surface of water. Alain admired them but he did not envy them. His time at the ring had been very instructing and while he wouldn’t be completely clueless in front of those things, he left their care to those who had trained for them. There were enough unholy things for him to stake care of. “You don’t have to pay it all at once,” scratching his cheek, he rubbed a recent scar, one he could thank Deirdre for. “Okay, here’s what I’ll do. I’m going to look for used car parts in junkyards,” he only had to make a phone call or two, maybe look online, which wouldn’t take long. “It might not be the right color, but we can change that if necessary.” Most people did not particularly enjoy having a patchwork car. “The catalytic converter on the other end, it has to be brand new, or it’ll just go back to making sounds,” he shrugged. The kid could go for a used part for this too if he wanted.

Shaking their head, Winston shrugged. “Honestly she was way older then me … and I don’t really go for girls that are there to make fun of my car. I don’t see why it matters what I drive as long as I get from A to B.” Pausing for a moment, they gazed as the mechanic set to work. “Yeah, I know it sounds ridiculous, but it kind of stood on my car and did that to it, honestly I was worried it would rupture a fuel line or something but I guess I got off lucky because I managed not to die or anything.” Honestly they weren’t sure what they expected this guy to believe. They probably wouldn’t believe it if they heard it. But so many weird things had been happening recently and they weren’t sure what the hell was really happening to this town. Listening to Alain’s recommendations, they paused and nodded. “I can deal with that, I think it's probably best to fix the car so that it runs as best it can, but I don’t know how far away from going to the junkyard it really has left on it.” The car should’ve been scrapped years ago really, Winston knew it, they were just too cheap to let it go.

"I've heard worse stories," Alain took a step back from the car. If a gigantic beast had stood on this car then there might be more damage than what he could see here. He'd have to check that too, but that meant dismantling everything under the hood and checking each piece which would take hours of labour. Besides he had no way of really knowing whether the damage was due to the giant lobster or to the fact that this was a wreck anyways. He did not question the veracity of the story. It probably was true. "To be honest, it'll probably cost more than what the car is worth," he scratched at the back of his head. Fixing it was something he could do and he was not afraid of that ; he felt bad for that kid, and while he would fix it if they really wanted him to, they had to know that it was a waste of money they apparently did not have. "I can already fix what we said, I would count around $500 if I can find used parts for everything." And it was unlikely that they had an insurance that covered any of this either… Alain held back a sigh and motioned them to follow him back to the front office. He'd have a look online and maybe he would even have good news.

“I dread to think what worse stories there could possibly be.” Winston wasn’t even joking, with everything that was happening recently. There was no real good news here. They could probably afford to pay that, but at that point they might as well just scrap it and sell it for parts. “Damn,” Winston winced and adjusted their glasses, “look, I appreciate the offer but I don’t even think that the car is worth that much…” they sighed and pulled their glasses off. Rubbing their eyes exhaustedly Winston sighed. “Do you have like a good scrap guy that I can try and make some money off of what is left of this thing…?” Winston looked at Alain hopefully, wishing that they had a better option than this. They felt like this was something that they could do without, but for now they would just have to deal.

“Well, the giant lobster did not eat anyone alive in your story,” Alain’s smile grew wide, so wide you could not tell whether he was joking or not. Shaking his head, he took off his gloves and headed back to his computer to have a look at prices for late 90s Buicks like Winston’s. He did not expect that they could be, after all this time, still priced at over $2,000. Well, then, maybe repairing it was worth it, but they could probably get a good price from a junkyard too, and buy another used car with that money. “Change of plans. It might be worth it. I’ll do my best to keep it affordable,” turning the monitor so that Winston could have a look, he waited for them to take a decision. Even if this car wasn’t what you could call a nice car, he could see that they cared a lot about it, and Alain appreciated that. “This might take a bit longer than two weeks,” he rubbed his bearded chin. “I could let you leave with a courtesy car if your insurance covers it.”

“Would that be something that would do? Why don’t you sound like you think I’m having a nervous breakdown or something? Why is no one concerned about how weird all of this shit is?!” Pausing for a second, Winston scratched at their stubble and considered Alain’s apparent new proposition. The possibility of keeping their car intact would be good, but only if it was worth it. There would of course eventually come a point where Winston knew that they would have to just cut their losses and hope for the best. But despite that they were somewhat attached to the car. “I can cope with a bit of a wait if there is something that you can do, I’d have to check with my insurance if they cover a courtesy car but I truly doubt it. I guess if there is anything you can do then that’d be good, but if it is going to get really expensive then I’ll have to scrap her…”

"What? Eat a person whole?" His eyebrows raised with concern. Maybe he was indeed a bit too laid back about all of the things happening in his town. "Look kid," Alain almost raised a hand to pat him kindly on their shoulder, but decided against it, scratching at the back of his neck instead, "if you're new in town, you'll either get used to it or you'll end up in complete denial," this had to be the case for about 90% of the town population, he estimated. Alain was not representative of the normal White crest citizen, far from it, and this dated back to his childhood. It was probably best for Winston to not dwell on it. Maybe they would even forget it was ever real. "I'll have a look under the hood, check if there's anything damaged. I doubt you could have drived here without lights flashing red or orange on your dashboard," he observed, filling out a form for him. "I'll need your name, address, phone number and assurance papers, etc." Pointing at different spots on the form, the mechanic glanced up at Winston's face. "Don't worry, I'll email you a quotation in a couple of hours. I'm not doing anything until you respond to the mail, ok?"

“You were the one who didn’t seem that bothered about it moments ago,” Winston replied with a laugh, “not me!” They shrugged gently and sighed. “I’ve actually lived here all my life, things were always a bit weird, you know like my neighbours cat once turned up with no fur, or one time a tree moved gardens,” they scratched at the edge of their sleeve, “but I’m starting to realise that maybe I’d been in denail before, I’m not sure how I didn’t realise all of these things before.” They sighed gently and listened to Alain’s procedure for the car. It sounded as if they were going to do a good job with it and they quickly set about filling out the requisite parts of the form that Alain had given them. Writing down their name, phone number, address and the various details that would be needed, including an email address where they could be reached. “Thanks, you’re … you seem cool.” Despite the fact that the news of a giant lobster hadn’t seemed to phase them, Winston thought that they seemed to be at least halfway decent, and they had only had a brief professional interaction.

“It’s not that I’m not bothered. I’m…. blasé ? Jaded.” Alain shrugged, sitting back in his office chair and idly playing with a pen. “Oh, I’m sorry, I assumed…” he trailed off and looked away from them. Taking the form back from Winston, Alain looked at the information for a moment, holding poorly back a smile at the compliment. “That lobster, where was it by the way?” If it had attacked once, it could attack again unless they had killed it, in which case they would probably get along very nicely. "Hey it's okay. Just don't get willingly in trouble because you no longer are in denial…" Alain had witnessed it before in others. Curiosity was something Alain had also been cursed with but at least he could afford to be curious, unlike regular humans of White crest. "Don't hesitate if you see anything weird, ok? I might be able to help," an odd offer, but he wasn't taking any chances here.

“Blasé?” Winston replied somewhat bemused, “Is there something that I’m missing here? If you’re blasé about it then you’re going to have to have been aware of it for sometime so that you could have reached your jaded state… so I guess what I want to know is what your secret is.” They shrugged. “Don’t be sorry, I’m still learning about it all. I just, I didn’t realise it was so obvious until it whacked me across the head, kind of. Figure of speech y’know.” They considered it before pulling up google maps on their phone and pointing to the road they had broken down on. “Uh, it all happened over here, so I’d avoid it …” then Alain was saying that maybe they could help and Winston was once again curious, “so you could help?” they asked somewhat skeptically wondering exactly what a mechanic would be able to do in this instance, “What is it exactly that you would be able to do against a giant lobster … thing?”

“I started learning about those things before I could read,” leaning back in his chair, Alain raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Yeah, I had a weird childhood,” and that was all Alain would say about being a child in a slayer family. “I see. Well, I can’t blame you for being in denial for a while. None of this make sense,” it was against everything they taught you at school, everything your parents normally told you. Don’t follow strangers was normal advice. If you see a vampire, stab it with a pointy stick, was not normal advice. Glancing at the map on their phone, Alain rubbed at his chin wondering if he should just tell that fella about his activities. While he doubted that they were dangerous, Alain was not willing to start a fight with a protector of supernatural creatures in his own shop. He had a glance at the shredded car and sighed. No one would have gone through so much trouble to confront a hunter, right? “I don’t hunt these specifically, but I might know someone who does,” he finally replied, scratching at the back of his head.

“Woah…” Winston couldn’t really imagine what that would be like. Deliberately choosing to learn about this. That was something that they were having to do now and they already felt as if they were behind on the game. But if they had known since they were younger then maybe they would have been able to come to terms with all of this or at least know what to do. “I mean, weird sure, but at least you know what you’re doing and how to deal with all of this … y’know … stuff.” They paused for a second more and shrugged. There was only so much that they could do. “Well, if you could put me in contact with them then I’d really appreciate that, it would be nice to know that there is someone that I can call incase I get trapped by one of those things. I don’t even know what the cops or animal control would be able to do against these things.”

“Woah indeed,” raising his eyebrows, Alain started typing a couple of things on his keyboard before putting phone numbers on a post it note for later. He’d have to make a couple of phone calls to fix Winston’s car and those always took time because he didn’t particularly talking over the phone. Heh, maybe he’d ask his employee to do it for him instead. Iker probably hated it too, but that was a perk Alain had, choosing who did the things he personally disliked. “Sure, I’ll send you that by email,” now whether Kaden charged people for doing his job, he was not sure, but Alain felt like saving a life was priceless. He would never do it for money, but some people had to make a living, and he could not blame them for monetizing life. “It’s quite easy, they’ll do nothing. All you’ll get is your face on the front page of the newspapers and a headline saying it was a wild animal who did it.”

#p: alain #para #wickedswriting #chatzy para #car shellsman

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thetravelerwrites · 5 years

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Ironblood Interspecies Daycare

Rating: Teen Relationship: Male Orc x Female Human Additional Tags: Exophilia, Orc boyfriend, Daycare, POV First Person, First Person Perspective, Male Reader Content Warnings: Kids, Children, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Disowned Words: 5035

An orc running a daycare takes on a new employee and feels an immediate attraction to her, having to struggle with his own feelings of inadequacy to get close to her. Commission for @ban23.

The Traveler's Masterlist

You might think that running a daycare would be a weird job for an orc, but orcs are a clan-oriented people. Caring for and watching over the young is sort of ingrained in our nature. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

Of course, since my daycare is open to all species, we have quite a few kids. There are a lot of human-only care centers, orc-only, fae-only, and so on. They’re usually pricey and exclusive, so an interspecies daycare that takes lower income families was a boon to the community.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t take all the kids whose parents applied, which made me feel terrible. According to the law, there had to be one care worker per five children, and I only had four employees plus myself. I was hoping to expand, but I was having trouble finding more caregivers.

It wasn’t for a lack of wanting to pay more people, it was more a lack of experience. I didn’t hire weekend babysitters; I only hired people with professional experience in child care, whether it’s a degree or a teaching position or several years of homecare, like a nanny or au pair, accompanied with references that were nothing short of glowing. Just because these children came from poor families was no reason to think they deserved anything less than the best.

Thankfully, there was a new applicant with a degree in child psychology with a special focus on interspecies relations, and spent four years as a school counselor. She was also a registered nurse. She sounded perfect, and if hiring her meant we could take more kids, then that was all the better.

I had scheduled her interview after close of the business day, when all the kids had gone home. I always tried to be in the back when the parents arrived; some of the moms were… handsy.

After closing, the five of us gathered in the back area for coffee and so the others could grab their personal belongings to go home.

“Ms. Jones keeps asking if you’re single,” Jacob said as he grabbed his things from his personal cubby.

“Mrs. Peterson, too,” Said Emily, wrapping a scarf around her neck. “I swear she’s gonna start camping out near the front door to ambush you when you leave.”

“Please, Karen from the grocery store has been leaving notes with her weekly fees. I keep giving them to Jukah and he keeps throwing them away.”

“They’re wildly inappropriate and very graphic,” I said, sipping coffee and looking over invoices.

“Really? Oh, damn,” Jacob said. “If that’s the case, I’m going to keep them from now on, then. I’m not above living vicariously.”

“Why don’t you ask one of them out, Jukah? They’re clearly into you, and there’s no shortage of options,” Emily asked, putting on her coat. She was the only other person besides me who worked here that wasn’t human. She was a bright blue kobold with dark spikes along her jaw and two sets of horns. Her tail was smooth, however, and dragged the ground when she walked. She often let the smaller children ride on it to make them laugh.

“They’re too pushy,” I replied dismissively.

“I thought orcs liked pushy women,” She said.

“That’s a gross stereotype and you’re wrong for saying it,” You said playfully. “Different orcs have different tastes, just like everyone. I don’t push you toward every buff bodybuilder I see, do I?”

“Gross,” Emily said, her face scrunched up.

“See? Because I know you like skinny weirdos,” I told her, laughing.

She laughed too. “You’re right. I can’t even lie about it.”

“So what kind of woman do you like?” Esther asked me. She was the grandma of my employees, having been a pediatric nurse for decades and started working at the daycare because she refused to retire.

“Why are you people so interested in my love life all of a sudden?” I protested.

“Because it’s weird that all these women are literally throwing themselves at you and you’re not interested in even trying with one of them,” Kody said. Kody was non-binary and was a big help in teaching the kids to be respectful to each other.

“I keep my work life and my personal life separate,” I said simply. “End of story.”

To be honest, I really didn’t know why these women found me so appealing. By orc standards, I was considered extremely ugly. I’m about a foot and a half too short for an orc, and even though all orcs are born with a natural muscle tone, I was way too skinny. My tusks are too small, though that’s actually fine for my line of work. I even file down and cap them, just to be sure I don’t accidentally gore a kid when I pick them up. I don’t wear my hair long the way other orcs do, in braids or plaits; I keep it short so the kids can’t pull on it. I even catch flack because of my eye color, a flat turquoise, which is exceedingly rare among orcs.

It wasn’t just my looks that made me unusual among my people. I’d grown up in a typical stronghold, but I’m quiet, introverted, and self-conscious. I’ve never felt the same sort of personal pride that other orcs feel in being an orc. I don’t hunt or fight or spend my time in other typical orcish pursuits. Timidness and a lack hubris are seen as personality defects for my people. In the eyes of other orcs, I might as well be human, and that’s in no way a compliment.

My only redeeming features were my skin, which was the deep, dark forest green found most attractive among my kind, and my natural ability and instinct to care for and teach the young, which is a high priority in orcish culture. That’s probably the only reason I wasn’t thrown out before I came of age. When I was old enough, however, I left the stronghold with no intent to return, and I’ve never regretted that decision.

So, these womens’ attention, especially the more aggressive ones, is baffling to me. I’m nothing special, in fact, I’m downright substandard, so this new-found attention was jarring.

“Just think about it, man,” Emily said. “You’re a nice guy. It’s a shame for you to be alone.”

“Guys, seriously, stop worrying about me. I don’t need to have a girlfriend to be happy. Now git,” I said, waving my hands. “I have an interview to conduct in thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kody said. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

I shooed them out and started cleaning up the play area. I enjoyed the time alone in the daycare after work. It gave me time to think about ways of improving the atmosphere for the kids. It was always good to have new things for them to do or they’d get bored and tear the place apart.

I heard the front door open as I was stacking tiny chairs and a voice say, “Hi. Are you Jukah Ironblood?”

“Yes, I am. Can I help you?” I called over my shoulder without turning.

“I’m Briauna Ramos, I’m here for the interview.”

“Oh!” I said more animatedly. “Of course, come in, I’ll be right with you, let me just finish up here.”

“No hurry,” She said pleasantly, closing the door.

I picked up the last of the chairs, stacked them, and turned. And stopped in my tracks.

The woman standing patiently at the door with a expectant smile on her face was petite with thick thighs and a cute little belly, wearing a flowing yellow top with black jean leggings that did nothing to hide these features. Her skin was a deep brown and her amber-colored eyes were wide, framed in long, black lashes. Her hair was silky, wavy, a little fluffy, and fell to her shoulders. She wore a small barrette in the shape of a bee to keep it out of her eyes.

She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my entire goddamn life.

“Something wrong?” She asked, her eyebrows drawing together in concern.

I realized I’d been standing with my mouth open for about a solid minute and shut it so quickly that my teeth clicked.

“No, sorry, um… please,” I said, gesturing at the door to my office. Once there, I sat at my desk and motioned for her to take the chair on the opposite side. She lay her coat over the back and sat down, pressing her her cold fingers together and putting them between her thighs to warm them. I tried my best not to stare at her thighs. I wanted to put my own hands between them and feel how warm…

I mentally slapped myself back into reality. Stop it.

Her application was on the desk in front of me, and I riffled through the papers for a moment to collect my thoughts.

“You come highly recommended,” I said, attempting to keep my voice even. “Your references and credentials are incredible.”

“Thanks,” She said. “I’ve wanted to work in childcare my whole life. Working at the school was okay, but I actually didn’t have all that much to do. Most kids who need a counseling are already in therapy, and there wasn’t much need for a nurse most of the time, so I spent hours in my office with nothing to do. I want to work more directly with children. This daycare seems like a perfect place, especially since it caters to lower income families. They deserve the same degree of care as private facilities.”

I felt myself smile. “I completely agree. That’s why I only hire the best. And you’re pretty close to perfect for this job.”

She smiled with her whole face, and I found it hard to breathe. “Thanks. I’ve applied at a few places, but I like this place the most. The facility is large and clean, and the list of activities for the kids is diverse and stimulating. You seem like you really care about kids.”

“I do,” I said. “Providing a safe environment for them is my first priority.” I looked through her papers again. “We have a former nurse on our staff, but she’s no longer practicing, so your nursing status is great. We get all kinds of bumps and scrapes here.”

“I can imagine,” She laughed.

“Well,” I said with a tired sigh. “I’m satisfied with your experience and I think you’d be a good fit here. When would you like to start?”

“Well, I just moved to the area, and I’m getting my apartment unpacked. How about Monday?”

I nodded. “Sounds good to me.” I stood and held out my hand for a handshake. “Welcome to the team.”

She took my hand, shaking firmly, and it was like an electric shock passed from her into me, making my whole body tingle. I gulped and tried to keep my professional demeanor in place.

“Great, I can’t wait to start,” She said enthusiastically as she pulled her hand away and threw her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday, Mr. Ironblood.”

“Oh, just Jukah, please. Formality goes out the window pretty quick in this place,” I said, laughing.

She laughed with me. I could listen to that laugh all day.

“Thanks again,” She said, and left. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help sneaking a peek at her ample rear as she walked away. I said down heavily at my desk and tried to calm myself.

Well, shit. So much for keeping my personal and professional lives separate.

She arrived early on Monday morning, before the others got in, and you had a few minutes to show her around.

“This is your personal cubby,” I told her, showing her a cubby on the lower shelf. “You can keep your phone with you in the common area, but try to use it as little as possible. If you have to take a phone call, either come back here or go outside.”

“Gotcha,” She said. She was wearing a powder blue sundress and darker blue leggings with her hair in a tight, fluffy ponytail two tendrils of hair hanging on either side of her face. She looked adorable.

The others wandered in shortly after the two of us put our things away and I introduced all of them. They greeted her politely and engaged her in light conversation, asking where she was from and how she was liking town so far, as they started on the coffee and pastries I brought in for them every day.

I had about fifteen minutes before the daycare opened, so I went to the waitlist to notify the families at the top that I could take them. A couple of people had already found accommodations, but the ones who hadn’t were overjoyed, two of them even asking if they could fill out the intake paperwork that day.

A paper plate with a pastry and a cup of coffee was placed in front of me. I looked up, and Briauna winked and smiled at me before returning to the back room.

Oh, god. This was bad. Love at first sight doesn’t exist, I told myself. She’s pretty and sweet, sure, but this is just an infatuation. Don’t even think about it. Didn’t you just tell your team that you didn’t need a girlfriend to be happy? Besides, dating a co-worker is always a bad idea. She probably wouldn’t be into you, anyway. Just get a grip and let it go.

The children began arriving, and I was out front to greet them, dodging the over-eager mothers as best I could. Kody, Emily, Jacob, Esther, and Briauna came out of the back when they heard the children’s voices. They quickly fell into their roles, including Briauna, helping the kids take off their jackets and instructing them to put their shoes and lunches in their cubbies.

I’d say only a third of the kids were human. The rest were a mix of orcs, fae, beast creatures, and even a little half-demon girl. Most of the children were between the ages of two and five, though we did have a couple that were under two years old, and they were mostly Esther’s responsibility. She was the best at handling the babies.

“Okay, little ones, sit in the circle and play the quiet game for a minute,” I said to the group, and they scrambled to find a spot in the big, red sitting circle in the middle of the room. “We’ve got a brand new friend who’s going to be helping us out from now on. Her name is Briauna.”

Briauna waved at them and said, “Nice to meet you!”

“I want you guys to be nice to her,” I continued, “And stay on your very best behavior, okay?”

“Yes, Kah-Kah,” said the chorus of little voices.

“Kah-Kah?” Briauna asked in an undertone. “That must go over well with the Spanish-speaking parents.”

I grinned. “We’ve all got nicknames. Emily is Emmy, Jacob is Jay-Jay, Esther is Essa, and Kody… well, Kody doesn’t have a nickname, but theirs is easy to pronounce, even for the littler ones. Just wait, I’m sure you’ll have your own by the end of the day.”

Sure enough, the children had started calling Briauna Na-Na by lunchtime.

“Told you,” I said as we began laying them down for their afternoon naps. She grinned at me with the tip of her tongue between her teeth. I felt like slapping myself after wondering what that tongue might feel like on mine.

Naptime was when we took lunch. One of us was assigned to sit with the kids as they slept so that the others could eat, and there was a rotating schedule. Today was Kody’s day. I made a note to add Briauna to the schedule later.

“So, how was your first day?” I asked her over my club sandwich.

“Amazing,” She said. “It’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

“Yeah, the kids are great,” Emily said. “They almost make the pay worth it.” She grinned and stuck her forked tongue out of me. I reached out and whacked her spiny shoulder lightly.

“I wish I could pay all of you more,” I said a little regretfully. “We’re applying for low income care grant for businesses that involve children, and when the grant comes through, I’m hoping I can give you all bonuses.”

“Bonuses,” Jacob, Emily, and Esther all said in unison, like zombies.

Briauna shook her head and laughed softly. “Honestly, I don’t care about the money. Today was probably the best day of my professional career. If I didn’t need to eat, I’d do it for free. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. Kids deserve a good start, no matter who or what they are, or where they come from. I’m so happy to help do that for them.”

I stared at her in an awed silence, feeling as if my heart had taken up all the space in my chest, leaving no room for my lungs. There was no point in lying to myself anymore: I was head over heels in love with this woman.

I forced myself to look away from her, and ended up glancing at my other three co-workers, who had sudden knowing smirks on their faces. I scowled at them and lowered my eyes, eating to occupy my mouth so I wouldn’t have to answer questions.

Walking home that evening, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I knew myself well enough to know I’d never have the courage to just ask her out. I’ve never been that confident. All of my exes had asked me out, not the other way around. I thought about having someone ask her out for me, but I shook the thought out of my head with a grimace. This wasn’t high school. I was a goddamn adult and running my own business. I should be able to ask her out without a buffer.

Thinking that was easy, doing it was another thing entirely.

As I passed a novelty store, I stopped and looked in the window. There was a very tiny stuffed deer sitting in a little gift bag with chocolates cookies.

I stood there, staring at the stuffed deer. In the old days, orcs wanting to charm a mate would go through a courting ritual which usually involved hunting large game, like bears and deer and the like. I definitely wasn’t the hunting type, but… the point was to show your adoration through gifts, to show what you can provide for your mate. I certainly didn’t intend to leave dead animal on her doorstep, but I did want to offer her affection and companionship.

I ducked into the novelty store and bought the gift bag without really thinking about it. And now that I had it, I had no idea how to present it to her. I couldn’t just give it to her during work in front of the others; I was too self-conscious. I hadn’t seen her anywhere outside of work, so I couldn’t “accidentally” bump into her someplace else. I wasn’t going to show up at her house unannounced like a goddamn creep. I sighed, hoping I’d figure it out.

The next day, I was sure to get in before everyone else and hide the gift in my desk. As it happened, that day was my day to sit with the children during naptime. After the kids were sleeping and everyone went into the back room for lunch, I snuck quietly into my office, retrieved the gift, and slipped it into one of Briauna’s coat pockets.

After naptime, Briauna took out a book she’d brought from her own home and had all the little ones sitting in a semi-circle around her. She was naturally gifted at holding their attention. Well, not just theirs. I couldn’t stop staring at her.

I had put a high precedent on early education, so lessons on shapes, colors, numbers, and letters were a weekly thing. Not enough that it overloaded their still developing brains, but just enough to keep them engaged and help them retain the knowledge. We often did a flash card game with a points system, and the winner got a reward from the toy chest.

“You’re going to scare the kids if you keep making faces at Briauna like that,” Kody told me as they looked over the children’s worksheets.

I scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

Kody gave me a deadpan look. “Come on, man. I’m not blind. You’ve been staring at her all day. Hell, you practically drool. You’re really going to act like you’re not attracted to her?”

“Just drop it.”

Kody raised their hands in surrender, their eyebrows shooting up to their hairline. “Fine, fine.” They shook their head at you. “You’re a hot mess, you know that?”

“I’m more than aware, thank you,” I told them. Again, they shook their head and wandered off to set out the art supplies for creative time.

They rest of the day passed without incident. Briauna pulled on her coat without checking her pockets. I watched her with my heart in my throat as she left with the others. Kody shot me a meaningful look before following her out of the door.

The next morning, she came in with the giftbag in her hand.

“Who left this in my coat?” She asked.

“That was in your coat?” Emily said. “There’s no note or anything?”

“No, I found it in my pocket when I got home,” She said. “I thought maybe one of the kids put it in there, but the price tag on the bottom said it was, like, twenty bucks, and I don’t think toddlers keep that kind of cash on them.”

I winced internally. I’ll have to remember to take the tag off next time. I’d never done this before, so some mistakes were bound to happen. I’d have to be more careful in the future.

“So, which one of you gave me this? Jacob?”

Jacob snorted. “Girl, you cute and all, but I’m gay as the day is long. It was one of them,” He said, gesturing at the rest of us.

“Not me,” Kody, Esther, and Emily said in unison.

“What about you, Boss?” Emily asked.

I tried my best to look affronted. “Please, I spend enough money on coffee and donuts for you losers every day.”

“So, none of you are going to own up to this?” Briauna said. “Really?”

“Hell, maybe it was one of the kids, you don’t know,” Emily said.

Briauna rolled her eyes. “You guys are impossible.”

“You like it,” Kody said, grinning.

Two days later, a teddy bear and some caramels found their way into her pockets. A week after that, there was a stuffed tiger and gourmet hard candies.

On her day to sit with the kids at naptime, I brought her a coffee, and she whispered, “Who do you think is leaving me the presents?”

“Dunno,” I said. “Could be any of them, really. Well, except Jacob.”

“Not you, though,” She asked shrewdly.

“I’m your boss,” I said. “Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?”

“I guess,” She said, shrugging. “But I thought you said formalities went out the window here.”

I gulped my heart down. Thankfully for my slowly crumbling facade of professionalism, the soft bell that alerted the end of naptime went off, and it was time to get the kids up for afternoon playtime outside.

That evening, while I was alone in my office, I was going through this months invoices while also looking at edible fruit and chocolate arrangements on my phone, when I saw my office door open. Kody stood there, leaning on the doorframe with their arms crossed.

Putting my phone face down and fixing a neutral expression on my face, I said, “What’s up?”

“Dude, do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing?” They said.

“I’m filing invoices,” I said.

“Come on, man, you know what I’m talking about. I know you’re the one leaving Briauna the gifts. Esther’s married, I’m asexual, and Briauna’s not Emily’s type. It has to be you. You’re not that slick.”

I sighed. I knew they’d caught me. “Are you going to tell Briauna?”

“No,” They said. “You are.”

“I can’t,” I said, scrubbing my face with my hands.

“And why not?”

“A lot of reasons,” I replied, reclining in my chair.

“Name one,” They said.

“I’m… weird.”

Kody laughed. “We’re all weird, Jukah.”

“It’s...” You sighed. “I doubt she’d even be into me. I’ve got… a lot of baggage, and not everyone is strong enough or willing to carry it with me. Trust me, I know. Every girlfriend I’ve had has seemed to buckle under the weight.”

“So you’re saying she’s not enough for you?”

“No!” I retorted, sitting up. “I’m saying I’m not enough for her. This place,” I gestured at the walls. “It’s all I’ve got. I’ve got no family, no friends besides my co-workers, no life outside of my work. Hell, I don’t even have my health. I’m a shit excuse for an orc. I mean, I’m too damn shy to ask a girl out. What does that tell you?”

“Maybe she likes shy guys,” Kody argued.

“Orcs aren’t supposed to be shy,” I said with a scowl.

Kody sighed in frustration. “Why are you so obsessed with what orcs are ‘supposed’ to be like?”

“You don’t understand, Kody,” I said with a return sigh. “I grew up in a stronghold, a traditional one. The pressure they put upon us to be the best orc possible was suffocating. I wasn’t the only one who who had to deal with it, but I was the only one who couldn’t live up to the expectation, the only one who didn’t grow up into the orc I should have been, and that has severe repercussions in orc communities. I was my stronghold’s biggest shame. None of my family speaks to me. My clan won’t even acknowledge my existence anymore; I’ve literally been erased from the book of clan lineages.”

“Dude… I do get it,” Kody said. “When I told my family that I was non-binary, asexual, wasn’t planning on having kids, wasn’t a Christian, and had no intention of taking over their business, they fucking lost it. I was their only kid and they had placed all their expectations for the future on me without asking me how I felt about it. They kicked me out, cut off my tuition, wrote me out of their will, refused to see me or take my calls. I went from working on a degree in medicine to living on a park bench. You were the one who gave me a chance. You gave all of us a chance.” They came in and laid a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t really give a shit what other orcs think of you, and you shouldn’t either. You’re worth so much more than they’d want you to believe.”

“Thanks, Kody,” I said. “It’s hard to undo an entire lifetime of being told you’re not enough.”

“I know,” They replied. “But do you really think Briauna is the kind of person who would think that? And if you do, why would you want to be with someone who does?”

“I don’t think she’s like that,” I said. “That’s one of the reasons I like her.”

“Then ask her out.”

I sighed sharply and ducked my head. “What if she says no and things are awkward, and she decides it’s too weird to work here? I’d have to kick out all the new kids we just took in,” I shook my head, resolved “I can’t do that. The kids come first.”

Kody groaned and rolled their eyes. “God, you are insufferable!” They walked to the door and leaned out. “Would you please come in here and put him out of my misery?”

To my complete shock and horror, Briauna walked in with a sheepish smile on her face.

I stared at Kody in disbelief. “Wow… you are… just… so fired.”

“Please, you need me,” They said, backing out of the room. “I’m basically your conscience.”

“You are the exact opposite of that thing.”

They laughed as they made to exit the building. “You kids have fun.”

Briauna stood there with one of the stuffed animals in her hands. “So it was you, then?”

I stood up and raked my hands through my hair. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It was sweet. A little creepy, but mostly sweet.”

I snorted. “I wasn’t trying to be creepy. I just wanted to get your attention.”

“Well, it worked.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a little stuffed bunny, something I hadn’t given her, and held it out to me. “Would this be enough to get your attention?”

I laughed and took it. “Yeah. And… maybe… dinner when you’re free?”

“I’m free now,” She said. “And there’s a curry place I’ve been dying to try since I moved here, but I’ve never had the chance to go.”

“That sounds perfect,” I said, grabbing my coat.

“Kody’s right, you know,” She said as I opened the door for her, stepping out into the chilly winter evening. “You shouldn’t care what people think about you. Well, except for me.”

“And what do you think about me?” I asked her.

She put her arm around my waist. “I think you’re really cute. I did the day we met. I was hoping the gift giver was you. And I think shy guys are adorable.” She lay her head on my chest. She was a short little thing. “I’m also hoping you won’t be too shy to kiss me goodnight.

I put my arm around her shoulder in return and lifted her face with my other hand. I kissed her softly and she pressed into it, parting her lips as if asking for more. My tongue reach out to toy with hers, and she moaned into my mouth. I pulled away, licking my lips.

“Dinner first,” I said, smiling.

She snorted. “You might regret that. It is curry.”

“I’ll take my chances,” I said, leading her down the street.

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