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#microdosing on teenage rebellion in my twenties by wearing shorts even when my legs are hairy#and when I’m outside in public/around my housemates/people are over#negativity cw#when I moved into my own place in May and my parents were helping me move my stuff#after everythijg was done and settled my mom sat me down on the new living room couch#and very seriously told me that I’m now a working woman living on her own#aka a fully fledged adult#and that it’s very important to shave my legs regularly and cover up#including in front of any future housemates/roommates#(leg hair was a constant source of contention in my teenage years hence the serious sit-down discussion)#my fucking flatmates who I would be fucking living with 24/7#this is the last thing she tells me before they leave me in my new place#(well it was not the literal last thing. but yeah)#so now I wear shorts whenever it’s hot even if I have hair growth and there are ppl around#body shaming cw#kind of#she also said ‘your future partner might not like leg hair’#to which I said ‘if my significant other doesn’t like it then they can get the fuck out’ straight to her face#anyway yeah#still kind of mad
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Jane, Medical Technician
Part 3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay, I get you’re the head of the science department here, but your rehab falls under my supervision you know,” Jane said, a little exhausted. She couldn’t believe it had only taken a few weeks for someone on the crew to get seriously injured, although it was completely believable that it was one of her fellow humans.
“I know, I know,” Liz said, waving her new augmented arm. “I thought I could speed it up if I overclocked the neural activity algorithm, but that didn’t work, it just gave me headaches.”
“This isn’t something you can speed up Collins, you can’t just skip parts of your recovery because they’re inconvenient.” Jane sighed.
“Liz, you lost a huge part of yourself, a very necessary part. And you lost it in probably the most traumatic way I can even imagine. You’ve got to let your body and mind heal at their own pace, alright?”
“Fine, okay, alright,” Liz said. “You’re right, I know that, I just want to go back to normal, not adjust to a new normal.” She leaned her head back against the cushioned chair.
“It’s like, part of my nature, to fix problems, improve things, see how they tick,” Liz said. “I clearly have a problem that I can’t solve and my brain won’t let me back burner it ‘till I have something else to focus on.” She brought her head back up.
“Let’s talk about something else! Give me something, anything, so long as it keeps my brain busy.”
Jane just stared at her a moment, thinking. It wasn’t exactly conventional therapy, but neither of their lives were considered conventional these days. What the hell?
“Like what?” She asked.
“Like I heard you pulled a tracheotomy in the mess hall the other day. Used a steak knife and a bendy straw of all things. You could ask me to make you a whole first aid kid with all the latest tech and it’d fit on your belt, I swear. Actually don’t even ask, I’m already doing it,” Liz stopped to breathe, “it’ll be great for emergency surgeries.”
“Well hopefully we won’t have any more emergency surgeries, but if you’re serious and you think it’ll help, by all means, build me something cool.” Jane smiled.
Jane liked Elizabeth, or Liz as she wanted to be called, and as her only Human patient so far, she wanted to be accommodating. Jane had asked if Doctor Huhuma had wanted to run the sessions herself, but Huhuma thought that another human would be better for the patient to speak with. They’d also heard about how interested Liz Collins was in aliens biology and figured she’d be less distracted this way.
She’d lose it if I told her I have lunch with all the Indoprime on board some days, Jane thought, a little smugly.
As if on cue, the door opened and Doctor Huhuma walked in, lab coat on as always, striped tail swishing as she walked to her office. She waved politely as she passed, and Jane waved back smiling.
“Doctor.”
“Doctor.”
Jane looked back to Liz Collins, who as she figured, was staring, but at her and not the alien monkey woman. And she was grinning.
“Oh yeah, this is a problem I can work with,” Liz said.
“What do you mean?”
“Dilated pupils, mirroring, tensing in the shoulders, the way you leaned ever so slightly towards her as she passed by, you’re blushing so hard as I say this, are you alright?” Liz was trying so hard to keep from laughing. “I’m a trained biologist too hon, and you got some awesome brain chemistry going on right now, don’t you?”
“Okay, times up for today, same time in two days right?” Jane said hurriedly, standing up from her chair.
“Look look look, I’m not gonna say anything alright? And this could be part of my therapy, keeping my mind off the arm while the two get acquainted,” Liz said in a hushed tone, standing as well.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, you have no idea what you’re saying, and your mandated therapy hour… still has… 45 minutes. Damnit.” Jane slapped her hands against her thighs. “Okay, but this is strictly therapy, you start getting weird on me and I’m withholding drugs in the future.”
“Hahaha! YES!“ Liz said, cackling.
“Here,” Jane said, handing her a small rubber ball. “Stress toy, but we are going to use it rehab your hand. Squeeze while we talk.”
Liz put the ball in her new bionic hand and tried squeezing. The hand whirred and and twitched, but didn’t really do more than cup its fingers and hold the stress toy.
“Come on, come on, tell me what’s going on here in this daytime soap you call a med bay,” Liz said, staring at her hand and focusing.
“Nothing really. She’s technically my boss, the most that goes on in here is we have lunch together.”
“Scandalous,” Liz said sarcastically.
“I don’t know what to tell you, nothing is happening between me and Doctor Huhuma.”
“But you want something to happen, right?”
Jane didn’t say anything… but she did blush.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The session continued in that manner for the remaining time, and when Liz left med bay she turned back at the door.
“Okay, call me later, we’ll get Coco in on this too, we’ll get you a date by the weekend.” She left laughing.
The science nerd and her talking tree associate were about as useful as those teen romance novels her cousin was always reading.
Did she want something to happen with the good doctor? Dating a coworker, her boss no less, had to be a terrible idea, right? Of course it was, and that was if she even liked her, which of course she couldn’t.
Jane forced the thought to the back of her mind. She had work to do, a paper to write on the cellular structure of the Zilgrat people and their similarities to Earth ferrets. Much like Huhuma’s people the Indoprime, the Zilgrats were so similar to the Terran species that it was believed by some that they might have a common genetic ancestry.
There was a rapidly growing field of thought back on Earth that many alien species had come to the planet in the infant years of their space exploration, like the Galley, and had left behind objects or hybrids, or some other mark of their presence, hence why so many species seemed to have the same qualities as the Earthling varieties. Personally, Jane was more a fan of evolutionary truths, the idea that certain branches of evolution are more adaptable across the universe, like certain species of birds on Earth that keep ‘reevolving’ despite going extinct, or that every form of life eventually turns into crabs.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, Jane heard the med bay door open. She turned, and saw the Scrib man, Ensign Mirn, standing there with his hands clasped together.
“Hello, Doctor,” he said, bowing his head. “I’m here for my check up? Doctor Huhuma said I’d need to be treated for possible infections or complications if any arose.”
“Right, of course. Hop up on the table.”
Mirn bowed again, then crossed the room and climbed up on the exam table. He was about Jane’s height, give or take 5’4, which was normal for the Scrib. While they resembled humans physically, the whole race was on average much smaller than the Earthlings, with light pink skin and almost zero body hair to speak of.
“Are you feeling alright? Any fever or anything?” Jane asked.
“Not really, perhaps my throat is a bit sore, but I wanted someone to examine me just to be safe. I understand there was a used drinking tool inserted into my trachea?”
“Yeah, sorry about that, it’s all I had at the time.”
“Don’t misunderstand Doctor, you are not to blame. You saved my life, something an entire room of officers failed to accomplish. To the Scrib, to perpetuate life is of the highest priority, so I hold you only in the highest regard.”
“Oh,” Jane said, a little surprised, “well thank you Mirn. I was really just doing my job, you know.”
“That is irrelevant, Doctor. On Scribbin, medical professionals are something akin to religious officials. To the Scrib on board the Noah, and this is especially true of myself, it is a matter of course that the Medical Staff are to be shown the highest order of respect and admiration.”
“That’s actually a nice change of pace, Mirn. On Earth, doctors are usually the ones overworked and underpaid.”
Mirn looked aghast.
“Why would such a thing be? Are you not keeping your people healthy?”
“No, it’s just… humans have a tendency to be suspicious of things they don’t really understand, especially other humans who are probably smarter than them. Some bad things happened in our past, so it’s understandable people are still skeptic.” Jane patted him on the shoulder. “We’re getting better though. Science has come a long way back home, so people are relaxing a little bit more these days.”
“That is… most welcome to hear,” Mirn said.
“Okay, open wide and say ‘ahh’ for me.”
Mirn opened his mouth and tilted his head back, making the sound. The inside of his mouth was reddish, same as a human’s.
“Hmm. Your throat looks a little inflamed. Probably a small infection. I’m gonna prescribe you a broad range antibiotic to be on the safe side, okay?”
“Thank you, Doctor Shaw.”
Jane tapped a few keys in her data pad. She went to the medicine locker up and entered her code, pulling the pills. She handed them to Mirn.
“You know the drill right? Follow the directions on the bottle, and you have to take all of them, even if you’re feeling fine towards the end.”
“Of course, Doctor. Thank you.”
Mirn stood up and headed for the door, but stopped when he was halfway out into the hall.
“Doctor Shaw, if I might ask you something?”
“Something else bothering you?” Jane asked.
“No, no, nothing like that. I wanted to ask something of the Medical Staff, if I may?” Mirn said, bowing again.
“Sure, but what is it?”
“Well, we Scrib have a perpetual reservation time for the GRID simulator. It allows us to recreate a ceremonial space from our home planet, something I believe humans would call a… church service? We give thanks to the Spirit Lord, the bringer of life and medicine, and we would be most honored if the other doctors and yourself could attend it with us. There would be food and drink there, a way for us to repay you for what you have done for us.”
“Well that’s sounds very interesting Mirn, I’ll bring it up to Doctor Huhuma later and I’ll send you a message on your comm-link.”
“Thank you, Doctor Shaw. We would be very pleased for you to attend. I’ll take my leave now, let you return to work.”
Mirn bowed again and stepped out into the hall, letting the door hiss shut behind him.
A race of intelligent people who worship doctors, Jane thought. How about that?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Huhuma had agreed, fairly easily, saying it’d be fun seeing another culture on the ship. The nurses had declined, however, saying they were either too busy or didn’t have much interest, which Mirn had said was perfectly alright. The Scrib had no desire to distract the Med Bay staff if they were otherwise occupied. Jane had said she’d go as well, jokingly saying that if for nothing else that she’d feel awkward if she didn’t at that point. When asked what was the dress code for such an occasion, Mirn had said that their medical uniforms were more than enough. Jane had still done up her make-up at least a bit, and ran a brush through her dark hair before giving up and putting it back up in a bun.
Jane stood outside the simulator, clicking on and off a data pad with Scrib customs loaded on it, when Doctor Huhuma stepped off the lift. As usual, she was in her green medical uniform with her lab coat over it, her hair down around her face in a shaggy pixie cut look. Still no shoes. Jane had asked her before, and the doctor had looked at her confused. ‘Why would I wear those things? How would I walk that way?’ she’d replied, laughing that deep hearty laugh. The only thing that was different was her uniform was open, showing a simple woven shirt underneath, showing off a more casual look, Jane guessed.
She must’ve been staring because Huhuma laughed.
“Something the matter, Jane?”
“Nope, no, not at all,” she stammered.
Smooth.
Jane composed herself, or tried to anyway, and they knocked on the door. It opened to show Mirn, smiling, wearing what looked like a sort of toga clasped at his shoulder and tied at the waist with a belt. He was also not wearing shoes.
“Doctors, you honor us with your presence! Please come in, join us, sit anywhere you please,” he said. He pushed them into the room, which had been simulated to look like a Scribbin temple chamber. A wall of stained glass, glowing with dim golden light, behind a tall statue of a humanoid man with a staff wearing a flowing robe, holding a basket full of herbs and other plants. The statue was circled with low tables covered in platters of food and goblets, surrounded by cushions and rugs taken up by the other 3 Scrib. They stood up and bowed to the doctors as well.
“Doctors, this is Lark, she’s in the communications division with myself, and these are Karu and Meli, they work on the engineering deck with the other Human, Thomas.”
“It’s lovely to meet you all,” Huhuma said, bowing her head slightly.
“Yeah, hi everyone,” Jane said, a little sheepishly.
“Now that you are here, we can begin. Sit, sit,” said Mirn, motioning them to the bigger of the cushions. Jane looked to Huhuma, then sat down. Huhuma sat to her left, striped tail swishing.
“Is there anything we need to do, or…?” Jane let the question hang.
“No, no, all you need to do is eat and drink your fill once the food is blessed. The two of you saved my life, therefore you are my guests here,” Mirn said, sitting across from them.
Jane watched as the 4 Scrib held hands and closed their eyes. Mirn began to chant softly, which was taken up by the others a beat later. When she didn’t understand what they were saying, Jane’s translator beeped quietly in her ear, alerting her to an error. The damn things weren’t great at picking up singing. Thankfully the Scrib all had lovely voices, so Jane didn’t mind. Kind of like turning the radio on in a foreign country. You get to hear something nice, even if you have no idea what they’re saying.
Jane looked around at Huhuma, who seemed entranced, smiling and humming along to the chant the Scrib were carrying. She swayed gently, tail swishing, and Jane found she couldn’t take her eyes off her. Huhuma once again caught her, and she smiled all the way up to her eyes. The Scrib reached their hands out to include them in the circle. Jane took the hand to her right, and jumped a little when Huhuma took her left in hers. Jane felt a heat deep in her cheeks and knew a blush was coming, but this time she didn’t care. The moment seemed to last, magically, as if in all the universe this one single passing blip of time belonged solely to her.
Oh crap… I’ve got a crush, Jane thought.
When the chant was finished and the Scrib let their hands drop, Jane held onto Huhuma’s hand for just a beat longer before letting go.
“That was lovely, Mirn,” Huhuma said.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“I have to say though, what did it mean?” Huhuma continued. “I’m afraid my translator wasn’t able to distinguish any of it.”
“Oh, it was simply a prayer song, praising the Spirit Lord for the bounty of knowledge he’s bestowed on us, as well as for a world of healthy people and the resources to help our fellow lifeforms.”
“What a nice sentiment,” Huhuma said.
“I heard that Scribbin was a haven for medical technology,” Jane spoke up. “Your planet has some of the best teaching hospitals in the GAIL. I’d love to visit one day, attend a lecture or two.”
“All are welcome,” Lark informed them. “Spreading the medical information we have discovered is a tenet of our people.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Jane said hesitantly, “if your people are so inclined to medicine, why aren’t you all doctors yourselves?”
“Some just do not have the temperament for it, nor the inclination,” Mirn said.
“Nor sometimes the stomach,” Lark laughed. “You should have seen Mirn during his first aid training on Scribbin. He was trembling like a newborn at the sight of blood.”
“I was merely too… inexperienced,” Mirn said, with some side eye that made Jane chuckle. “Now before any more of someone’s soon to be former friends bring up the past, we should enjoy the feast.”
Lark laughed as the Scrib stood and began bringing over plates and platters of food. Cups and goblets were handed out, large pitchers of something that smelled sweet yet oddly medicinal were set out, and they began to eat.
Jane grabbed a little of everything, wanting to explore more alien cuisine. Huhuma piled on what appears to be several different vegetables and fruits. She poured some the medicinal drink into a glass and held it out to Jane.
“Thank you,” Jane said.
“Of course, dear.”
Jane felt something swish against her back and saw it was the Doctor’s tail, a totally involuntary action she was sure. Jane hid her face in the cup anyway, swigging down the drink. It tasted sweet, with an odd tannin on the end, still with that medicine taste, but it was also very refreshing.
“What is this drink? It’s good,” Jane said.
“It’s a medicinal wine we brought from our home planet. We only drink during ceremonies like this once a month, so we found a way to enjoy it more,” Lark said, smiling as she took a sip.
“Can I have some more?” Jane asked.
“Of course,” Mirn said, sliding over the pitcher. Huhuma steadied the cup in Jane’s hand and refilled hers before pouring herself another glass. Her fur tickled Jane’s wrist.
“It’s alcoholic?” Huhuma asked.
“A very small percentage, we assure you.”
Whatever the drink was, it was good, in Jane’s opinion. The whole spread was delicious. While she was reaching for something, Huhuma took it upon herself to split a fruit on her plate and place the second half in front of Jane. Jane thanked her, particularly conscious of the way her tail kept swishing against her back behind them. She tried to make small talk with the Scrib, asking various questions about their beliefs and their planet, perhaps she could get a tour of one of their hospitals one day?
All the while, blindingly aware of the delightful presence to her left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Jane opened her eyes the next morning, it wasn’t her ceiling she was looking at.
Oh no, nononononono no, this isn’t happening, Jane thought sluggishly. Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry, and her clothes
-thank you space Jesus-
were still on, if wrinkled. And then she realized she did recognize the ceiling, and the room for that matter. She was in the Med Bay, in the head office, wrapped up in Doctor Huhuma’s hammock. Jane groaned.
“Well good morning to you too.”
Damn you space Jesus, don’t do this to me when I’m this hungover.
Jane looked up and saw the good doctor sitting in her office chair, a hot cup of something in one hand and a data pad in the other. She was smiling, and looking as pristine as ever.
“I’m… my god I’m so sorry Huhuma,” Jane stammered.
“For what? Hogging my hammock all night? I slept in my spare, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Jane couldn’t remember a thing after dinner with the Scrib last night. She rubbed her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to get her feet under her in a way that didn’t relay how out of it she was.
“So when I ask what happened… I didn’t… we weren’t… what happened?”
“Well,” Huhuma said, smiling so wide, “dinner was great. Mirn and Lark and the rest loved us. We had some lovely conversations about med tech and I believe we have a standing invitation to attend another ceremony with them if we wanted.”
“So how did…?” Jane gestured to herself.
“That happened afterwards. You held yourself together very well during the dinner, and afterwards you said you wanted to go have a ‘girls night’ with me. I think that medicinal wine of theirs was a little stronger than they thought. We got drinks in the mess hall, which got a little…” she gestured to Jane. “I didn’t feel like carrying you all the way to your quarters, and I didn’t think you’d mind. And I got to see your reaction, so it was undeniably worth it. You humans are just so cute. Indoprime eat fermented fruits pretty young, so our tolerances to alcohol are high, but you humans… just so cute.”
Jane closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t done anything too overtly stupid. Thank god Huhuma was there to take care of her.
“Well, I’m glad we amuse you,” Jane said, finally getting her legs freed and on the ground. “And… thank you, for taking care of me. I don’t drink a lot, so… yeah. I’m going to go to my quarters and get changed.”
Jane headed for the door.
“Well, I mean, you did give me a kiss though,” Huhuma said. “Remember that?”
Jane froze at the door. She stood stock still, like her body had been frozen in place, except everything felt hot, her face especially. Slowly, slowly, she turned around, and her embarrassment slipped to confusion. Huhuma was standing there with a piece of chocolate in her hand.
“Yeah, you said you wanted to give me kisses, but the Vending Machines you humans installed only made you one at a time, so you got impatient with it and just gave me the first one.”
Huhuma walked over and slipped the piece of chocolate into Jane’s hand.
“I can’t really eat the stuff, so I guess I have to give you a kiss back.” Huhuma was smiling. She was so close to Jane’s face, and she smelled so good… and the she was turning back around and walking back to her desk, tail swishing back and forth.
Jane was speechless. Brain not functioning. Retreat to safe location. She said nothing and just stumbled out the door and practically sprinted to her quarters.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh my god, you useless lesbian,” Liz Collins said.
“I don’t have genitalia, does it still count as a ‘girl talk’ if I am present?” Coco asked.
“Why did I bother asking you two for your help?” Jane sighed, face in her hands.
She didn’t know what else to do. She’d sat in her quarters for an hour before sending a communication to the science department asking for a ‘consult’. Liz had shown up 5 minutes later with several bottles of water and enough chocolate to feed an army, but Jane was told that was just Coco’s breakfast. She’d stared at the small confectionery pieces for a while as the two let themselves get comfortable in her room, thinking of a kiss…
“So she just…” Liz asked, hanging the question in the air.
“Yup”.
“After all that…”
“Yup.”
“And you didn’t try to…”
“Nope.”
“You should’ve gone for it.”
“Gone for what?” Jane asked impatiently.
“I don’t know, something!” Liz said. “I’ve never exactly been in your shoes before, or anyone else’s really, but this is basic chemistry right? You have it with the cute doctor monkey lady, right?”
“If I knew if I had chemistry with someone, do you think I’d be asking the person who brought their best friend the tree here for tips?”
Coco sat quietly eating chocolate.
“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do here,” Jane groaned. “Being a human is awful, Coco, we got all this weird biology and chemicals in our brains, you’re much better off as a plant.”
“I can see that,” Coco said. “If you are worried about being mates with the Indoprime doctor, is it not… appropriate to see what they want first?”
“Honestly? Probably. It’s been a while since I dated, and that ended poorly, to say the least. But I don’t have any clue how to… approach this. Besides, this is just a crush, on my boss, who I don’t even know how exactly they feel in the first place.”
“I mean, you spent the morning getting wound up like a spring, I’d say it’s pretty clear, right?” Liz said. Jane chugged another bottle of water.
“Yeah you’d think right? If this was a human, or even just a guy, this would be easier. But she’s so… put together, and mature, and pretty, and…”
“Noah to Jane, reel it back girl, you’re lost out in Huhuma space, hon,” Liz said. “You could check her medical records for a start, check if she has a spouse or something back home, see if anyone is playing goalie,” Liz said, tossing back some chocolate.
“You sound like a guy,” said Jane.
“Still, though.”
“I still do not see why the two just do not mate and spread their pollen-” Coco started.
“Okay, you sweet summer child, that’s not how non-botanical lifeforms do that,” Liz cut her off. Jane was about to burst a blood vessel from embarrassment.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in?” Jane said, confused.
Marrin was in the room before the door was even all the way open.
“What happened? Are you okay? Did she do anything weird to you?” Marrin asked rapidly.
“Woah, woah, what’s up?” Jane asked startled.
“I heard about last night from cousin Huhuma, I came as quickly as I could. You’re okay, right?”
“Yes, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
Liz and Coco sat on the bed watching events unfold. Coco handed her counterpart a piece of chocolate.
“Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you this, but back on Indos, she had a… reputation.” Marrin looked at Jane, and the doctor’s heart sank.
“Whenever anyone was even remotely interested in her, she’d basically ruin their lives for a few weeks.”
Huh?
“Wait, you knew I was into her?” Jane asked incredulously.
“You’re not subtle,” Marrin explained.
Damn it.
“What do you mean ‘ruin their lives’, what the hell does she do?” Jane asked.
“Just… violently and publicly rejects them. She makes sure everyone knows it. There was one time when we were younger and this one male wouldn’t take no for an answer, kept coming around and bothering her… they found him the next day tied to a post by our tribe Elder’s home, shaved from head to tail. I love my cousin, dearly, but she is a devil woman.”
“Well… fuck, that’s pretty funny actually,” Jane admitted. “But she hasn’t done anything like that to me, she took care of me while I was… a little sick, last night, and she’s only ever been nice to me.”
“Yeah, nice,” Liz said snorting. “Wrapped you around her fingers, but sure, nice.”
“Oh fuck you,” Jane said, and Liz burst out into laughter, followed by Marrin. Coco didn’t get it, but she made similar sounds, or tried to with her lack of lungs.
Great. Totally confused by my feelings for the pretty space doctor lady, and the only help I’m gonna get is from the tree hugging virgin and possibly the lady-in-question’s cousin. Juuust great.
Well at least there wasn’t a goalie. Jane felt a rush a relief knowing she wasn’t going to, should she make the attempt, home wreck anyone.
“Hey Marrin, what’s the general view on same gender relationships on Indos?” Liz asked.
“It isn’t of any consequence,” Marrin informed. “To go through life with another is a blessing, unrestricted.”
“Well at least you don’t have to worry about that, right Jane?”
“I’ve heard you humans have weird hang ups,” Marrin said.
“The humans are odd in general,” Coco stated. “I believe we are all late for our duties.”
“Coco is right, we gotta get to the lab,” Liz said, heading for the door. “Good luck hon!”
Marrin left as well, saying she’d… stay out of her way, in so many words.
Jane groaned and fell back flat on her bed.
Why was being human so hard?
#deathworlders of e24#humans are deathworlders#humans are cute#humans are space oddities#humans are space orcs#humans are strange#humans are space australians#humans are weird#earth is space australia#humans are insane#humans are terrifying
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Six Weeks
A/N: Hiya! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of my very self-indulgent Javier fic. I'm still wrapping my head around his characterization, but I hope you will love him as much as me.
Summary: Steve gets injured in the field. You end up as his 6-week-replacement.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: EVENTUALLY +18 Smut (minors DNI), cute banter, casework, office games, flirting, kidnapping/abductions
Word count: 3.6k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47206690/chapters/118942645
Chapter 1: Week One
“Six weeks? Fuck, Murphy,” Javier sounded exhausted already. He leaned against the desk as if needing some kind of support to process what he had just been told. The phone rested between his shoulder and ear as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“What do you want me to say?” Steve said from the other end of the line, “That I’m a victim of poor construction work? Connie’s already on my ass for getting up from the couch. She won’t let me go to work which, to be fair, is pretty reasonable since I can’t walk.”
Despite how frustrated Javier was, Steve was right. They had been so close to a win that both of them could practically taste the satisfaction of catching some bastard with a connection to the kidnappings that they were currently investigating, when Steve had taken one wrong step on a roof in the barrio. It had collapsed under him, and he had landed on the floor of some poor stranger’s living room. It had resulted in compensation for said stranger and a severely sprained ankle.
“This will set us back weeks. Messina’s already calling me into her office for a meeting later,” Javier sighed and let the hand run over his hair instead.
“Just talk to her, I’ll still be working from home.”
“You know it won’t do shit to sit on your ass with a pile of outdated files,” there was a pause, “I swear, if she sends me a replacement with no clue what he is doing, I’ll drag you into the office in a wheelchair if I have to.”
“You’re funny. Just— I’m not important. The case is,” Javier could hear Steve shuffle around, then he continued, “I have to go. Talk to the boss and try to be nice.”
“I’m always nice.”
*
The meeting started five minutes ago, and Javier Peña was nowhere to be seen. You eyed the clock on the wall, watching the second hand tick along as the silence between you and Claudia Messina dragged on. It felt awkward by now.
“I’m sure he’ll be here in a minute,” she said to you when it became too much to listen to nothing else but each other’s breaths. You weren’t sure if you believed her.
“I don’t have to be anywhere else right now. He can take all the time he needs,” you said through a polite but very fake smile. You were being transferred from your own unit to the DEA against your will. Messina had specifically asked for you due to your (successful) work on similar abduction cases, but you suspected that it was also due to a need for not being the only woman in the room anymore.
The fact that she was forcing you to be working with Javier Peña, woman to woman, didn’t seem to bother her. Javier fucking Peña, who was known for being a selfish, overly aggressive and ambitious man who treated women like notches on his bedpost. Despite his charming character and handsome looks, you were certain that this would be six weeks in hell, trapped with an arrogant man with a shitty attitude towards you and all you wanted was an equal.
You would have to put up a brave face as well as a fight for being taken seriously. It wouldn’t have been the first time in your career that you had to prove your worth to a mediocre male agent. The problem was just that Peña wasn’t exactly the definition of mediocrity; he was ruthless and, for the most part, got the result he needed. Word got around.
Seven minutes past, agent Peña walked into the office looking like he was too important to be here. He most likely felt that way too with the way he didn’t apologize for being late.
“Agent Peña,” Messina said, tone anything but kind, “Thank you for taking the time to join us.”
She then introduced you to him, and Javier looked bored with the conversation. You crossed your arms over your chest, refraining from rolling your eyes. He did give you a glance as she said your name but that was it.
“Look,” Javier said the first chance he got. You prepared yourself for what he was about to monologue about, “Murphy and I got this under control. I don’t need or want a new person on the team and in on the case, it’ll just slow everything down with how much I have to work just to brief them— her.”
“I’m from the Kidnappings and Missing Persons unit, jackass,” you made yourself a little taller. Javier scoffed.
Messina raised her voice, standing up from behind her desk, “I don’t care if you both end up killing each other as long as you finish this job first. Agent Peña, this isn’t a pick and choose situation. The parliament is in deep distress, and it needs you two to fix it. Lives are at stake, children.”
Ouch. She was right. Javier mirrored your stance as he was scolded but unlike you, he looked at the ground as it happened.
“I’ll brief her right now,” he eventually said, leaving the room in an instant and you guessed that you were supposed to follow.
As the two of you walked down the hallway, none of you said a word to each other. You walked a few steps behind him, noticing how you could tell that he was fuming just from looking at the back of his head. He took long footsteps back to his desk, like when one would skip steps on a staircase, and his hand flexed by his side.
“Listen,” your name sounded cruel coming from his mouth. He stopped at his desk, resting a hand possessively on top of a pile of papers, “I don’t like this as much as you do but if we’re going to have any chance of winning this, we have to work together and you have to swallow your pride. I’ll brief you once, show you how I work around here and then we’ll get to work. Whatever I say goes.”
“Easy there, tiger,” you rolled your eyes. Did he seriously just tell you to swallow your pride? Your words came with an unfriendly smile, “I don’t think anyone would question your authority with how much you just pissed all over your work station.”
“Coffee,” he interrupted.
“What?” You replied.
“I need coffee for this.”
The break room was a sad excuse for one. It wasn’t much different than the one you usually spent time in though, rocking the aesthetic of something that was paid for by the state. The same yellowish wood cabinets of the mini kitchen, cheap chairs around a cheap table and not a plant in sight. The only wall decorations were a clock and a sign that told you to clean up after yourself.
Javier strode past the vending machine by the door, which you longingly stared at as you passed it too. You wouldn’t mind something sweet right now when there was so much venom in the air.
Javier started up the coffee machine. He reached for the cabinet doors to search for a mug, skipping several that were staring him in the face. You assumed that he had a favorite.
When he finally did find the right mug, you noticed him only grabbing one for himself. This sort of powerplay seemed childish, but you weren’t going to point it out and ruin your day even more. Instead, you just got a mug out for yourself.
“Did Messina say anything at all?” Javier finally broke the silence as the coffee maker made a gurgling noise in the background.
“Not much,” you told him, leaning your hip against the counter, “But I watch the news. I know you’ve been gathering resources from my unit too. Maybe this’ll work out in the end.”
Javier let out a humorless laugh but for the first time, he was actually looking at you. You tried not to shrink yourself under his brown, scrutinizing eyes.
“I know this isn’t ideal, Peña,” you continued with a little sigh, “But I promise you that I’m good at what I do, so tell me what you got. I’m professional. I’m hardworking like you, I assume.”
Javier’s eyes gave you a once over, the agent sucking his teeth. He looked like he was contemplating what would happen if he said no.
“It has been going on for a while. Way before it hit the news,” Javier finally let out. He turned to the coffee machine which had made a fresh pot, filling the room with the distinct smell that soothed any office worker’s mind. He poured himself a cup, hesitating for a moment before turning to you and filling your mug as well.
“Thanks,” you said genuinely.
He clicked the pot into its place, “It started small enough for the media to be indifferent, but the president’s spin doctor? Fuck, they won’t let that go that easily, they’re all doing spin themselves. Guess it becomes interesting when it hits too close to home.”
“I heard that he was taken out in the open,” you took a sip of the scalding coffee.
“Poor bastard was on his way home to his wife, dragged into a car and shot out in the outskirts of town, but with everything going on? Stripping the president of his way to good PR isn’t stupid.”
“So this isn’t actually abduction?” You raised a brow. Why were you here exactly?
“Steve and I are thinking things are getting worse,” Javier started walking back to his work desk. You followed him silently, “Those other people weren’t even considered as DEA-cases before this last one.”
“So they're moving up through the hierarchy,” you placed the mug on what you assumed was agent Murphy’s desk. There was a framed picture of two blonde-haired individuals on the desk, a man and a woman who were both smiling. The man looked too American to not be called Steve Murphy.
“Yeah…” Javier was underestimating you, because he trailed off for a moment when he realized you were catching on perfectly, “Yeah, exactly that. Fuck knows who is next.”
“But why DEA? This doesn’t sound like anything drug-related. Surely, Escobar isn’t repeating himself,” you slumped down into Murphy’s chair.
“That’s what we thought,” he replied after a sip of coffee, “We’re assuming that someone is keeping up operations outside La Catedral. Escobar will need reassurance that the extradition bill ban stays.”
“Have you looked into this?” You wished that you’d had some sugar for your own coffee as you drank it. A part of you didn’t want to ask for it, because Peña didn’t need a reason to bully you about not being a real adult.
“Here’s the kicker,” Javier looked proud of himself. He gave you a little smirk, drawing out the anticipation, “The abductions and killings are all of people related to the politicians who are against the ban of extradition. I bet they’re going to ensure that the ban stays a ban.”
You grimaced.
“He’s an evil motherfucker,” he added, “It won’t be pretty, cariño, the next coming weeks.”
“I work with cases of missing persons, cariño,” you bit back at the condescending name, “Trust me. I do ugly for a living.”
Javier held up his hands in surrender.
“So what’s our plan moving forward?” You asked instead of commenting.
The DEA agent walked to a long filing cabinet which was placed against the wall and had seen better days. Organization was a foreign concept to these two men, you figured, because stacks of papers were scattered on top and notes with scribbles of hurried handwriting were sticking out from its drawers. You made a mental note to attempt to create some kind of system, most likely when Peña wasn't around.
He returned to your desk with a tower of beige folders, some stamped with classified information. The stack landed on the table with a thump, almost knocking over your coffee if you hadn't been quick to rescue it.
“Start reading,” he ordered, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, “I’ll be back later.”
“Where are you going?” You called out, already undoing the rubberband on the front of the first folder.
“Out.”
*
A few days of this dynamic passed. You read as many files through as your brain could handle, occasionally writing something down on a notepad, whilst listening to the sound of Javier tapping away on his typewriter.
None of you said much to each other. You had short conversations about who was getting coffee, and you volunteered more than a few times to get a break from having your eyes glued to paper.
In the middle of your pushed-together desks, an ashtray slowly filled with half-smoked cigarettes and the hours dragged on with nothing ever really happening. It felt a little ridiculous to think that Javier had been angry that you had no time to catch up on him and Steve’s work, when you had had nothing but time these last few days. Despite this, you knew it was only a matter of when before something new would happen.
You blamed it on the boredom, but you would also sometimes find yourself looking at agent Peña over the top of your reading material. He had a crease in his forehead whenever he concentrated, which made him look slightly older than what your initial guess of his age had been.
“Eyes on the file, cariño,” he had said at one time with a smug look upon his face, and you had muttered something about having wanted to ask him if he’d like a refill of his mug. Then you had left the room with red cheeks, and completely forgotten to scold him about the nickname.
Now, it was Thursday afternoon. The two of you were in your usual spots, time going by as slowly as ever. You were alone in the bullpen, but there was the faint sound of people buzzing about in the building.
You threw the latest folder onto your desk with an exasperated sigh, then leaned back into the office chair and scratched along your scalp. It made Javier look up with an unreadable expression.
“What?” You asked simply, flattening your hair again.
“You done?” He nodded towards your pile of papers.
“You know, I’m beginning to think that you just wanted to keep me busy, so we didn’t have to talk.”
Javier made a sound at that. You smirked back at him.
“Not the case,” he eventually replied.
“Right, but word goes that it could’ve been the case,” you rested your hands in your lap, watching him not react at all to the revelation that people spoke about him behind his back. He knew.
“There’s words?” He didn’t even try to sound surprised.
“Plenty,” you weren’t going to tell him that you were specifically referring to him being an asshole serial romancer.
“I thought you said that you were professional, meaning you wouldn’t believe gossip about your colleagues,” there was something teasing about his tone.
“Oh, fuck off,” you couldn’t help but laugh, “How am I supposed to know what to believe when you don’t want to speak to me?”
Javier removed his hands from the keys on the typewriter, “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, not sure what he was playing at. Then you sat up a little straighter, “Where are you from? It’s not Colombia.”
“Laredo, Texas. Next question.”
“Age?”
“Old enough,” he went on before you could continue your rapid fire questions, “Unmarried, no kids, and I like long walks on the beach.”
“You’re funny,” you said.
“You sound like Murphy,” he noted but you weren’t sure if that was a good thing. You weren’t even sure if Javier actually liked his partner but you hoped he did; if agent Peña compared you to him, there was no reason why he couldn’t like you too. It would make everything easier.
“Easier on the eyes though,” he added when you hadn’t replied as quickly as before.
“No mustache either,” you said with a slight grin, not about to show that you were taking his flirty attitude seriously.
That made him laugh. It felt like such a victory, a step closer to acceptance. You laughed too.
When the giggles died down again, a comfortable silence came over the both of you. You busied yourself with stacking the files that you had finished reading and Javier lit a cigarette as you both went back to work.
*
That conversation had seemed to loosen up some of the tension between the two of you, and by Friday afternoon, you had continuous conversations that lasted more than three words. Your chest felt a little lighter than just days earlier, and whilst you had been so certain of Javier Peña’s nature before, you were starting to doubt if the rumors were true.
You found out that Javier did indeed like agent Murphy, because he frequently mentioned him in passing comments about previous missions. It seemed like he often visited Murphy and his wife Connie to eat dinner with them at their home (mostly on Connie’s demand but it might have had to do with him eating nothing but takeout).
Additionally, you found that despite Javier’s efforts to stay hard-working and productive during these long days of waiting for something new to happen, even he experienced a certain amount of cabin fever. The cigarettes were piling up.
Personally, you had finished Javier’s assignment of catching up on what he had called light reading. This meant that you had moved on to the neglected filing cabinet instead, working with your back towards Peña as you sorted through notes and documents without having the authority to look at any of them. It made it that much harder, so you simply settled on arranging everything into alphabetical order.
When you had reached H in the alphabet, you felt Javier’s eyes in the back of your head. You decided not to say anything, quietly swapping out the old tag on the front of the drawer with your new one, until a crumpled up piece of paper hit your shoulder.
You turned around, “Seriously?”
“I’m going fucking crazy here,” he told you.
You bent down to pick up the ball of paper then threw it back at him, but unlike you, he had every chance of catching it in his hands and he did.
“You know, you could help me,” you noted but it only earned you the paper ball thrown back at you. You didn’t catch it.
“You’re terrible,” he snorted as the paper hit the floor in front of you.
“I’m not terrible, I’m just not ten years old,” you once again got it from the floor, weighing it in your hand for a moment before tossing it towards him in an overhand throw. He caught it again.
“I bet I can throw and aim better than you,” he was challenging you, clearly not accepting your reluctance to throw things around the office building. Unfortunately, you could never say no to proving an overly confident man wrong.
“No way,” you crossed your arms over your chest, “Pick a target.”
Javier reached for the wastebasket next to his desk, dragging it to the middle of the room. It wasn’t too far from where the two of you were sitting, but still far enough to be a challenge.
“Ladies first,” he said after tearing off a piece of paper from his own notepad. He crumpled it in his hand, handing you the newly made paper ball after.
“Don’t go easy on me,” you said before tossing the ball effortlessly into the wastebasket.
Javier whistled, then nodded towards the basket, “Damn. Well, that needs to be moved further away.”
It seemed that the DEA agent wasn’t just competitive in his field but also when it came to office games because soon you were writing down scores. You would never admit that it was a relief to do something drastically different, especially not when you earned a nudge to your shoulder from him as a way of showing respect, but seeing him not be so serious was fun.
“Alright last one,” you said as you balanced on one leg on a wooden chair that you had gotten from the break room. There was a desk between you and the wastebasket, the both of you having had to add to the challenge with each throw since you were desperate to outshine each other.
“Go on then,” Javier was standing on his own chair to get a better view.
“A pro cannot be rushed,” you teased and you didn’t have to look at Javier’s face, but only listen to the sound he made to know that he was rolling his eyes. You raised your arm over your head to take aim, lifted your chin slightly.
Behind you, someone cleared their throat. You froze.
“Agents, I see you’re getting along after all,” it was Messina. Javier was already off his chair, and you followed suit a few seconds after. Messina didn’t look very impressed, “There’s been another incident, but don’t let me stop you from your important work here.”
“Sorry, it won’t happen again, Ms.,” you blurted out, earning a glare from agent Peña. He was probably not one to admit to his mistakes.
“Come on, both of you, we’re going to the conference room,” she turned on her heel.
“Suck-up,” you heard Javier say as he passed you on the way down the hall. You decided it was his way of telling you to stand up for yourself more.
#javier peña#javier pena narcos#javier pena fic#javier pena fanfiction#javi pena#javier pena x reader#javier pena#javier pena x you#six weeks#my writing#javi#narcos
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Loki S2 E3 Spoilers Ahead!
My thoughts while watching the episode for the first time:
Is that him as a kid?
I considered for a hot second that Loki might be that horse.
There is never a moment too dire for Mobius to grab a snack, and I relate to that on a deep and personal level.
Boy, Marvel will do anything to plaster their name on screen as much as possible.
*science mumbo jumbo*
I think this variant has gotten himself electrocuted one too many times.
I wouldn’t be standing right in front of that, my dude.
Well, yeah, now he’s giving off more ‘take over the world’ vibes. Proper Frankenstein over here.
Prototype? Yeah, no kidding. That thing let off a few bright sparks and then just died.
Mustache guy looked so scandalized, I can’t 😭😭😭
“Hornswoggler”? That is my new favorite word.
Is that an offer or a threat? Sounds more like a threat.
Where can I get myself a guy who will pass out money at the snap of my fingers???
I know it’s loud in there, but is no one else hearing the talking purse?
Nice cover, Mobius.
Oop. Old hornswoggler is back and wants a refund. I’m shocked. The machine looked so impressive just… fizzling the way that it did.
This has very quickly become a Charlie Chaplin sketch.
Okay, first of all, Mullet Hair, can you chill??? Killing the same dude over and over and over again is not gonna secure free will for people! Can we discuss? For even just a millisecond?! Are we able to think through our actions?
He ruined your life? Listen here, Sylvie; while you’ve been living it up at McDonalds, the universe has been falling apart! Think outside yourself for two seconds!
His face! 💀💀💀
Are these two seriously having a moment? Cease and desist immediately.
“A long time ago-“ in a galaxy far, far away. No, wait; wrong franchise.
That’s your biggest takeaway? Seriously?
“Rat bags”? Mustache Man is just full of zingers!
Did Loki literally just run in a circle??
Ooh, Miss Minutes is a bit snappy. She really wants everyone to know how clever she is.
Oh my gosh, they are not cramming another slapdash love story into the show 😫 I do not care about this! I came here to see Loki! Every second he’s not on screen, a little part of me dies…
Miss Minutes in the background: 😞
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
I have a feeling Renslayer is suddenly gonna be much more amenable to joining Loki and Mobius now.
All those mannequins are so creepy.
A Rolodex? That’s his life’s work?
Okay… this just got weird on so many levels.
OKAY THIS JUST GOT SUPER WEIRD! 🚩‼️🚨 IF SHE POSSESSES ONE OF THOSE MANNEQUINS I AM SO OUTTA HERE
🎶 People always told me, be careful of what you do, don't go around breaking young girls' hearts. And mother always told me, be careful of who you love. And be careful of what you do, ‘cause the lie becomes the truth - hey hey!🎶
Dude, how did she even get here?
*dramatic entrance at the perfect time*
Mobius, look at her! I don’t think Ravonna is in the best headspace rn.
How many people are gonna barge in here??? Does he have any security at all? Even a single lock?
Also, are we really doing this again? This episode is bloated with will they/won’t they moments. It’s a “won’t” from me. I’ve decided.
The hair! 😍💯
So is Loki just gonna lie there and watch, or…?
So everyone gets free will but him? How do you know he won’t make better choices? He can’t be the one singular person in all of existence that is fated to be something specific!
Okay now I’m starting to feel a little bad for him.
“I can make my own choices.” That’s what I’m saying!
Who put Sylvie in charge? I’m sorry, but last time I checked, Loki doesn’t answer to you!
Seriously? You’re just abandoning her there??? Murder was a bad thing two seconds ago and now you’re both chill about it?
Aww, poor Sylvie. She really is the greatest victim in all this. How dare she be forced to decide to obsess over something 🙄
Yeah, I’m not sure sticking the two of them together is a good idea. I mean technically he’s dead, but what has that ever meant in the MCU?
Oooh, never mind - he’s dead dead. …Well, even so. Loki’s come back from worse.
Can any of these characters just pick a side?! Stop betraying each other so often; I can’t keep up! Who’s working with who???
#mcu loki#loki spoilers#marvel loki#loki#loki laufeyson#loki series#loki season 2#mobius m mobius#ravonna renslayer#hunter b 15#ouroboros#loki season two spoilers#loki s2 e3#loki show#loki season two#first time watch#my thoughts#ramblings#i think i'm hilarious#mcu#marvel shows#marvel cinematic universe#funny marvel#marvel#sylvie#sylvie laufeydottir#mobius trying his best#mobius
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V for Vengeance
This took ages and is very long I'm sorry! Might be better reading it on AO3 :)
“You don’t know what I’m thinking any more Johnny, leave me alone,” spits V as he stalks down the grimy, neon-flooded street with his collar up against the rain.
“Yeah, I kinda do,” the most recently appointed Afterlife merc explains as he rushes after him, “and this is a fucking gonk idea.”
V had been brewing for days, ever since Kerry told him about the time he’d been kidnapped and held to ransom by scavs. Kerry had intended it as an amusing drunken tale, it’d been all over in less than 24 hours and he’d been that high at the time he hadn’t really noticed it happening, but V was not so green when it came to dealing with scavs, he knew what would’ve happened if the record company hadn’t coughed up the eddies and was determined to fill in the details of the hours that they held the Rockerboy, no matter how unsavoury.
“Seriously V, it was twelve years ago, they’re all either dead or they’ve moved on by now.”
Stopping in his tracks, V looks intently at the dark-haired man, “You don’t have to come with me Johnny, I never asked you to.”
“I know,” answers Johnny darkly, “maybe you should’ve. You’ve got no idea what you’re looking for.”
“Neither have you! You were a data stream living in a freezer at the time, how exactly does that make you any more qualified than me to find them?” It’s a fair point, and one that V knows Johnny is not pleased to be reminded of. “Look, if you wanna help fine, just try not to be a pain in the ass.”
“Can’t promise anything,” Johnny mutters turning to follow his friend down the street.
-
Kerry had just done one of the best shows of his life – or so the bassist of his backing band tells him as he gives the Rockerboy a sloppy post-gig blow job, despite the best efforts of the younger musician it’s not a relationship, just a habit that they’ve fallen into.
Later, alone again, Kerry messages his kids telling them about the show and asking about their day. He never gets a reply, but he does it every damn day anyway. Then he calls his new manager to see how the attempt to copyright his image is going, but the fucker doesn’t answer, he never fucking answers, Kerry’s beginning to think he made a mistake hiring him. There’s one more call he thinks about making, but he’s had enough rejection this evening and so puts on a jacket and heads out to the waiting car. He doesn’t make it.
-
“Where’re we going?” Johnny shouts after V’s retreating back.
“Pacifica.” answers the other man.
“Woah, we’re not walking to fucking Pacifica.” states Johnny breathlessly as he catches up.
“Course not, there’s someone I need to speak to first.”
Afterlife is buzzing even at this time of the early afternoon, despite it now being V’s kingdom Johnny’s heart lifts a little at the thought of Rogue maybe being there, her visits are increasingly rare, but it is possible. They make their way over to the bar where V has a quick word with Clair before heading to his usual booth at the back, Johnny makes to follow until he sees who V is meeting, he sits at the bar instead nursing a tequila and glaring over petulantly.
“You’re lucky I was in town,” Panam tells V as he takes a seat opposite her and puts beers on the table between them, “another few hours and I’d have been showing this shithole my dust.”
“I know, thanks for meeting me, and…I’m sorry.”
The woman looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, “Luckily for you I’m a big girl capable of making my own decisions. Something more than we had might’ve been nice, but as far as flings go, it was one of my favourites.” she says taking a swig of beer and sitting back in her seat, one leg resting on the other and arms spread along the back, “But you’re still part of the clan whatever other shit you’ve pulled, what do you need?”
“Info,” says V leaning forward and looking at her seriously, “about twelve years ago Kerry was taken by some scavs, prolly took him somewhere into the Badlands, wondered if there had been any rumours, if anyone knew anything about what happened?”
“Can’t Kerry tell you anything? Surely he’s not gone senile just yet?” she asks with narrowed eyes and a half-smile.
“Heh, you’re a funny girl, but no. He was pretty out of it and he’s kinda blocked it out.” V winces internally at the lie. “So do you know anything?”
Panam takes another swig from her bottle and ponders the question, “Maybe. I was a teenager at the time, a feisty one too if you can believe it, Saul would sit me down and tell me all the reasons why my behaviour was dangerous, or bad for the clan.” V nods, he’s been at the receiving end of Saul’s lectures and knows what they can be like. “Anyway, this one time he was explaining why taking a bike and riding into the town was a dumb idea, he was even more riled than usual, said if the Raffen could swipe a rock star right from outside a stadium, one little girl on a bike would not be able to stop them taking her. Never connected the dots at the time, but I guess he was talking about Kerry.”
“The Raffen huh? I guessed as much, any idea where they took him?”
“No, they had a few bases at the time, I’ll mark them on a map for you.” she says producing a map and pen from her bag, “Saul was a big fan of Kerry’s, shame they never met.”
V hums in agreement, Saul always turned the radio up when one of Kerry’s songs came on and he’d told Kerry stories about the brusque clan leader many times, they could definitely have been chooms. “Thanks Panam, you’ve been a lot of help.”
Panam looks over his shoulder, “Who’s that guy you came in with? He’s been glaring at me for the whole conversation like I should know who he is.”
V chuckles, he often forgets that even people who met Johnny never actually saw Johnny. Before he can explain, the woman interjects,
“Fuck, that’s Johnny Silverhand. I recognise him from Saul’s album covers. That’s Johnny fucking Silverhand!”
Hearing his name, Johnny smiles warily and raises his glass in Panam’s direction.
“Why didn’t he come over with you?” she asks.
Still smiling, V looks over at the dark-haired merc at the bar and lowers his voice, “He’s kinda scared of you, you were pretty angry about him trying to kill me if you remember, he thinks you might try and break his balls over it or some shit.”
“That’s fair, but if the fucker is going with you, watch your back, he’d choose his ego over his chooms any day I’m guessing.”
Once maybe, but not anymore V thinks, but he just nods and finishes up his beer, “Look after yourself Panam, I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Mhm, don’t be a stranger.” the nomad replies giving him a curt nod and walking out of the booth.
Johnny watches as she leaves the bar, “Don’t say it Johnny.” V warns.
“Say what? That she has a nice ass? I’m only human.”
V groans and grabs his jacket from the bar stool, after a last catch-up with Clair they’re ready to leave.
“Need to get the truck from the garage,” V tells Johnny, “it’s gonna get pretty bumpy out there.”
-
Jogging to keep up with V’s accelerating strides, Johnny is struggling to understand the urgency, unsure as to why they need to head to Pacifica now rather than the morning, it is, after all, 12 years since the attack took place so one more day is unlikely to make much difference. V, on the other hand, can’t get there fast enough, the thoughts of what they might have done to Kerry in that time have been festering in his mind and he couldn’t look the man in the face again if he didn’t do something.
As if he’s read the ex-merc’s mind, the holo rings and Kerry’s tired face fills V’s vision. “Heeey V, missed ya today, what ya been doin’?”
“Just dealing with some business Ker, like I said this morning it might take a couple of days. How’s the song coming along?”
The Rockerboy’s lip curls into a grimace, “Meh, can’t seem to get into the groove, y’know I worry about you when you go out on jobs. Throws me off.”
“I promise I’ll be careful and I’ll call you in the morning, get some sleep babe, be back before you know it.”
“Kay V, love ya.”
“You too ya gonk.” V says softy as the call disconnects and he rubs his temple with his fingertips, it’s been a long day and it’s not over yet, “Johnny, you OK to drive? If I don’t lie down, I’ll fall down.”
“Sure, where we going?”
“The stadium.”
-
Johnny had only been up a few hours having not got home until the early hours. He’d thrown himself into the merc work and mostly enjoyed it, but music was still his passion, so he’d been doing the rounds of the open mike nights – heavily disguised of course – just to keep his hand in. Problem was, compared to his old stuff, what he’s writing now is shit. The tunes are fine but he’s struggling to find the lyrics; before, he channelled his lust, anger and vitriol into the words, now all he feels is apathy most of the time. He hates to admit it but, he needs help, he needs Kerry, and if helping V with his gonk plan gets him back in Kerry’s good books then it’s all going to be worth it.
-
Pulling in at the stadium parking lot, Johnny spends a moment taking in how shitty Pacifica had become over the years. He can still remember when it was the promised land, corpos filling the hotels and beaches, not this gang run nightmare before him. It vaguely occurs to him that it’s at least partly his fault, but such thinking could lead to madness so he tucks the thought away to be chewed over another time.
“V, wake up sleeping beauty, we’re here.”
Groggily, the younger man groans and sits up in his seat, “What time is it?” he asks yawning.
“Just after midnight, not much point looking around in the dark, may as well hang here until the sun comes up in a few hours.”
“No way,” stresses V, already getting out of the truck, “this is the perfect time.”
A perplexed Johnny once more finds himself jogging to catch up to his friend, what is he possibly hoping to find after twelve years in the middle of the night?
The stadium is in darkness, the sputtering street lights only adding to the gloom. V stands, hands on hips surveying the side of the building, scanning the area and sighing. The building hadn’t changed much since it was built sixty years ago, flimsy doors, non-existent security, pretty much what he expected, but what had changed was the area. A stadium built so that high-rolling customers could watch a show or game whilst staying in one of the nearby five-star hotels was now next to a derelict shopping mall in what looked like a war zone. Sure, it could still get the big-name acts, but they would travel in from somewhere more salubrious, maybe a place in the City Centre, whilst the audience would make their weary way back to their homes, never once thinking of staying in Pacifica for the evening, no matter how convenient.
Although terrible for Pacifica, this is in fact great for V’s purposes, the same bums and low-lives have been hanging around the stadium for years and their information is cheaply bought. The nearest liquor store is not far away, Johnny follows his friend hopefully inside grimacing as he chooses two of the cheapest 6-packs available and then helps him carry the bags back to a wall near the stadium. “Now what?” he asks.
“Now, we wait,” the other man replies, popping the cap off a beer and wrinkling his nose at the first sip. They don’t need to wait long, a dishevelled, grey-haired man comes shambling towards them with a younger, twitchy-faced man at his side.
“Care for some company chooms?” he asks in a surprisingly refined voice.
“Sure thing, wanna drink?” The older man nods emphatically, while the younger sits silently crossed-legged, glaring at Johnny and V between violent tics.
The conversation is moved along from government conspiracies (probable) and the latest sightings of a mothman (unlikely but possible) to the things celebrities will do for attention, V’s attention has been wavering for a while, tiredness having caught up with him, but the mention of his mainline’s name, as well as a sharp dig in the ribs from Johnny, perks him up.
“That there Eurodyne fella, they reckon it was all for publicity, saw it with my own eyes…”
“Wait, what?” asks V suddenly wide awake, “You saw Kerry Eurodyne being kidnapped?”
“If that’s what it was, he walked out with them friendly as anything, got in the car no problem, chatting like they were best chooms.”
V is momentarily stunned into silence, processing what he’s being told, “What…what kinda car was it?”
“Nothin fancy, some sort of Thorton. Remember thinking what an odd shade of blue it was, like the sky at dusk.”
Johnny interjects, “Yeah, poetic as all shit choom, tell us everything.”
-
The concert goers had generally been a happy and generous bunch, the bum and his chooms had made a good few euros and scored a few beers and were sat, nicely mellow, waiting for their second chance as the crowds emerged from the stadium. Before that could happen, a side door swings open and a smiling Kerry strides out to the waiting car flanked by what looks like a couple of suited bodyguards and followed by a red-haired woman with a Valentino’s jacket and a distinctive silver leg. In his youth, the man had been a huge fan of Eurodyne’s, posters all over the walls, shelf full of his records, but he hadn’t been so keen on some of his poppy later stuff, so it’s with detached interest that he watches the Rockerboy be led out to the car and directed into the back seat. He seemed in good spirits, clearly high as a kite and slightly unsteady, but not seeming to be in any discomfort, for which V was grateful.
V and Johnny leave the men with what’s left of the beers and make their way back to their car, V is quiet and pensive which is making Johnny nervous.
“They tricked him,” V concludes, “they knew how confused he got when he’d been partying and they tricked him.”
Johnny tries to hide a smirk, the thought of Kerry being so out of it that he didn’t even know he was being kidnapped not only seemed likely, it was not even the first time it had happened. There was that time out in Miami in the 20’s when a deranged fan took him home and fed him pizza and copious amounts of wine before the rocker was found wandering the streets the next morning in a borrowed tuxedo, but V doesn’t need to hear about that just now.
The description of the red-haired woman is making V’s brain itch, there’s something familiar that he can’t quite put his finger on. Johnny drives them into the Badlands whilst V leaves a message for the Padre and falls into a disturbed slumber.
-
In his dreams, V’s leaning on a bar listening as Kerry tells him about his day at the studio. The Rockerboy is hyped and animated, pacing the room and drinking from a tequila bottle. He comes over placing his hand on the ex-merc’s chest and leaning into a sloppy kiss that ends with a bite on the bottom lip hard enough to raise a gasp.
“Something to remember me by.” Kerry smirks as he pulls away.
“Why, you going somewhere?”
Kerry puts his hand on the door to the exit and turns, smiling sadly. Then he’s just gone, disappeared. V searches the room frantically, calling Kerry’s name and pushing on the door, but no one answers and the door won’t budge, then Johnny’s voice is calling him,
“V, shut your whining. You woke me up from a real nice dream you fucker.”
-
The truck is where Johnny parked it in the early hours, shaded from the mid-morning sun by a boulder which also serves to shield them from the road. V groans and stretches, he’s had the full eight hours for the first time in weeks, but still feels like he’s been kicked in the head, and back, and kidneys. “Where are we?” he asks the grumpy ex-rocker groggily.
“’Bout five miles west of Panam’s first marker on the map.”
Nodding, V gingerly leaves the truck, rubbing life back into his legs he leans against the rock to take a much-needed piss, cursing softly as a call comes midway through. Thinking it best to leave the call on audio only for now he greets the caller as cheerily as he can manage, “Morning Padre, thanks for getting back to me.”
“Always a pleasure to be able to help out a brother in need. What can I do for you?”
“The woman I described; do you have any info on her? She rings a bell with me but I just can’t place why.”
“She is called Selene, she was a friend of your mother’s when you were very small, but she left the fold twenty years or so back, went to live with the Nomads so I heard. If you find her, tell her she is forgiven and will be welcomed back.”
“Selene, of course! Any idea which clan she went with?”
“Nothing for sure, though I think the Raffen would be her style.”
V sighs, it’s what he expected if he’s honest, but he hoped otherwise. “Any ideas where she is now?”
“None. I am expecting another call, but wish you luck in your endeavour.”
Thanking the Padre, V wanders back to the truck checking the map and planning a route for the day, he flops down next to Johnny with his back leaning on the tyre of the truck and takes the cig from the other man’s fingers. “I’m thinking if we work smart, we can cover all three camps before dark, then this time tomorrow we can be heading back.”
Johnny nods, working smart is not something he’s often accused of but he can give it a try.
-
V drives the truck to within a couple of miles of the first possible camp, concealing it as best he can between two ridges and makes his way to higher ground with Johnny following grumbling behind.
“Don’t know why we had to set off so fucking early, it’s not like they’re going anywhere. And what’s with all this fucking gear we’re carrying? There’s, like, an arsenal and enough water for a week, I thought we were here for the day not setting up camp.”
V gives a half-smile as he squints at the horizon, Johnny’s whining is actually quite a comfort to him, it means the world is working as it should, “You’d be surprised how much water you get through in the desert Johnny, and we don’t know what we’re up against, better to be over-prepared than under don’t’cha think?”
Johnny grunts non-committally and returns to his binoculars, “What exactly are we looking for?”
“Any sign of movement, the camp should be over to the East by those rocks, looks abandoned but we don’t want to go storming in and find a cave full of scavs coming out to meet us.”
Having established that the camp at least appears to be all quiet, the boys stay low as far as possible and cover the last two miles without incident. The camp has clearly been abandoned for some time; empty crates litter the ground inside the mouth of the cave which was the main living quarters of the camp. Mildewed bunk-beds line the walls, nothing of value has been left behind, no handy clues. Sitting in the mouth of the cave sharing a bottle of water and a cig, V optimizes the route to the next camp whilst Johnny squints critically at a shard he’d found on one of the bunks,
“The Benefits and Drawbacks of Adaptive Technology and its Impact on Society at Large, huh.”
“Hmm?”
“Nothin, just some chip I found.” explains Johnny tossing it in his backpack to maybe read on the boring ride back later.
-
Their next destination is almost thirty miles to the north mostly over flat ground but the last few miles are a challenge even for the Mackinaw that bounces from dune to dune and jostles its passengers unrelentingly. Johnny clings onto the grab handle biting back his criticisms of V’s driving for fear of being left in the middle of nowhere to find his own way back. It’s a good choice. V had also had enough of the challenging terrain and was in no mood to deal with Johnny’s shit.
“Gonna have to park up for a while, this shitty truck is gonna work my optics loose if we carry on much longer.”
“I think there’s a gas station just up there,” Johnny points hopefully towards a fuzzy, gas-station shaped building on the horizon, “we could aim for that, regroup, grab some food.”
Food sounded good, they hadn’t eaten since the previous evening and the sun is now right overhead, there’s some jerky and trail mix in the truck, but they hadn’t got quite that desperate yet. The building is indeed a gas station, not only that but there is an outdoor seating area where they now are eating reheated burritos and sipping on mercifully chilled water. Johnny squirms uncomfortably in his seat, there are many benefits to having a flat ass, leather trousers hang well, chicks dig it, but long road journeys are just a pain in it.
“So, what’s the next plan of action?” he asks V in between bites of his disappointingly bland lunch.
“The guy in the store said there’s still some Scav action out here from time to time, so we don’t wanna go storming in, just in case. We’re still about four miles out, just over that ridge should be an old farm that they were using as a base.” V tells Johnny indicating a distant sand dune. “We get the truck to this side of the ridge, sneak around and see what we can see.”
Johnny nods, aiming his screwed up empty foil into the trash and smirking as he hears it rattle around the can and hit the bottom.
-
“Shit.” hisses V as he scans the farm buildings from the top of the ridge. There is clearly movement, things being loaded onto trucks. It looks like they might have caught the goons just as they’re moving on, which does not suit their purposes at all.
“Think fast Johnny, what do we do?”
Johnny looks up briefly whilst lighting his cig, the light of the match illuminating the surprised look on his face, since when does V ask his advice about merc work? “We could wait til one of them is separate from the group and bring them over for a little chat?”
“Mhm, there’s a guy over there keeps disappearing off for a smoke, we could follow the ridge around and see where he goes.”
Just as V had said, around five minutes later the man dumps a crate in the van and makes to the back of the substantial barn where the van is parked, the mercs (V is allowing himself the title back, just for a couple of days) follow along and down the ridge until the sharp smell of the man’s sweat and cheap cologne assaults their noses. Luckily for them, he is concerned only with checking his messages and not expecting to be forcibly dragged over the rocky ground with a gun to his head and a hand over his mouth.
They really should have decided what to ask him before dragging him behind the ridge, after all, he was clearly too young to have any knowledge of the kidnapping, fortunately he helps them out,
“Aw I knew you’d catch up to me sooner or later, I’ll tell you anything and I’ll run to the hills if you let me go, you’ll never hear from me again.”
Johnny and V have no idea who the guy thinks they are, but can’t pass up such an opportunity,
“We’ll think on that,” Johnny tells him, “all depends on how good the info you give us is.”
“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy,” V chips in, “what have you been doing out here these past few, er, weeks?”
As promised, the man spills everything, the camp has been here for several months though he’s only been with them for three weeks, other than a few local raids nothing of any note has happened. They are moving East to an old warehouse that was used in the 60’s as a base, to join with another faction in order to pull off some heist. The whole shebang is being run by a woman with faded red hair who’s name he didn’t catch who was here a couple of days ago but has since returned to the warehouse.
With a pistol-backed warning not to look back, they watch the man sprint into the distance and think about their next move. The warehouse seems to be the last place Panam marked on their map so they don’t need to follow the goons in order to find it, in fact it would be better to get there before them so that there’s less to deal with, but not searching the farmhouse might lead to them missing a vital clue.
“How sneaky are you feeling?” V asks Johnny.
“I can do it if I have to, but I’d rather just shoot them in the head.”
“Maybe when your aim improves, we’ll go with your plan, until then, follow me up to the back window.”
Johnny opens his mouth to say something, but for once thinks better of it and follows V up onto a dumpster, across an awning and in through a handily open window, dropping silently on the other side into what appears to be a command centre of sorts. There are tables and chairs scattered around, empty wrappers and cups, but nothing that presents as a clue.
The next room has been used as sleeping quarters, sheets are strewn around, pillows scattered, and the smell from the unwashed linen and half-eaten food left on all the available surfaces is almost unbearable, Johnny finds it almost overwhelming, he’s still getting used to having his senses back and is having to fight against the urge to pass out from the stench.
The last room on this floor is smaller but had been kept neat. There’s a cot in the corner with the sheets removed and a few bits of sparse, but clean furniture.
“Nothing in here to see,” says V rattling a drawer back into place just as a goon, who’d been hiding behind the door waiting to make his move, hits him clumsily but solidly on the shoulders and flies towards the stairs to make his escape. Johnny takes chase narrowly avoiding a door to the face as the man flees the building, he needs to bring him down before he can alert his chooms and so dives for his legs sending him heavily onto the gravel and drags him, thankfully dazed and quiet, back into the house. Meanwhile, V gingerly opens one eye staring into the painful void before him, his optics soon adjust and the bedroom floor slowly slides into focus.
A dull thud and a muffled groan later, Johnny reappears and offers his hand to help the fixer up, he grudgingly accepts and leans his weight onto the Rockerboy as they make their way gingerly down the stairs and over the battered body of the fallen goon to watch the outside activities through a grimy, cracked window.
“The way I see it,” offers V massaging life back into his left shoulder, “we can either wait here until they leave and check the place out properly, or forget about here and make our way to the warehouse while it’s still light and before it’s full of murderous Scavs.”
It’s a no-brainer, a couple of minutes later they are back in the truck putting together a route away from the roads leading from the farm and sharing a cigarette. The devil in Johnny has a question to ask, “How d’you think Kerry’s gonna feel when he finds out you’ve done all of this without asking him?”
“Well he’ll…” V realises that, in a certain light, his actions could be construed as selfish, controlling even. Although he meant well, he hadn’t really considered Kerry’s feelings in all of this, there might even be a reason he never told the whole story. “I just need to call someone…” he murmurs, leaving the truck and disappearing around the corner.
Some minutes later a red-cheeked ex-merc hops back into the truck and silently starts it up, knuckles white on the steering wheel, Johnny gives it a few minutes but has to ask,
“Kerry is pretty mad OK?”
Johnny nods, he knows how Kerry gets when he feels betrayed, he realises that, to his surprise, he feels bad for his friend.
“He said that I shouldn’t’ve gone without telling him where I was going and that I shouldn’t’ve put myself in danger for him and that we were gonna have to have a talk when I get back.”
“Aw V I’m sorry…”
“Nah, it’s fine. Think he just wants to vent at me. Had to promise to call him every couple of hours and to tell him everything we find out, he really can’t remember what happened and wants to know, even if it’s real bad.”
-
It’s a long and boring journey to their final destination, Johnny has been on a self-improvement kick lately and decides to look at the shard he found earlier. He was expecting a book, but opening the case he realises that The Benefits and Drawbacks of Adaptive Technology and its Impact on Society at Large is in fact a BD, possibly the dullest one ever but a BD just the same. Rummaging around in the glove compartment he finds a wreath and settles back in his seat ready to expand his mind. Twenty minutes later his mind is definitely blown, though not necessarily improved in any way.
“V, choom, you gotta see this,” he says groggily, clumsily pulling the BD wreath through his tangled hair.
“No thanks, m’driving. Not a good mix dipshit. Besides, sounds super-dull.”
“So pull over, I promise you, you REALLY need to see this.”
-
The scene opens with a stuffy lecturer in an office outlining how far cybernetics have come in the last hundred years, never one for schooling V can feel himself drifting off, but less than three minutes in the scene abruptly switches to a smoke-filled room, possibly a bar, with a dozen or more people sat at makeshift seats and tables. V recognises one, “That’s Selene!” he says out loud to Johnny. A commotion indicates another person entering the room, a slightly dishevelled Kerry comes stumbling in with hair flopping rakishly over one eye and his denim shirt open to expose his recently installed chrome. V adjusts himself in his seat, damn that man is hot.
“…and then later that night, “Kerry was clearly part way through a story when he had left the room, “he came over again. Can you believe it? But this time with a gun and a bag full of drugs. Security fucked him up and threw him out and the drugs made for a preem after-show party!”
The assembled ‘audience’ laugh and clap, an inhaler makes its way around the room as do various bottles, all of which Kerry happily partakes in. The next few minutes are mostly this, blurry partying and a babble of chatter, the room seems to be hanging on every word the Rockerboy says and Kerry is lapping it up. Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. The recording whips around to focus on the red-haired woman who seems to be receiving a call, biting her bottom lip and nodding slightly as her eyes glow green. The room quietens, even Kerry, though he seems to be in some kind of drug and alcohol induced stupor anyway. The camera follows Selene out of the room into a gravel patch covered with parked cars and overlooked by an old wind turbine,
“Jeez, are you sure?” she asks, “I mean, of course I believe you but he’s a rock star for fucks sake, there must be somebody who’ll pay. What about the ex-wife?” Selene nods again, “What a bitch, I thought they had kids? And they say we’re the bad guys. OK, fine, it’s a shame though, he seems like a nice guy.” Her eyes dull as the call ends, she checks her revolver and strides back into the bar.
A whispered conversation later the filming cuts off as Kerry is being man-handled off the tatty sofa.
-
V removes the wreath and sits stunned in the driver’s seat of his truck not quite sure what to do next, Johnny gently takes it from his hands throwing it onto the rear seats and looks at his friend with concern. “You good?”
“I guess.” V replies thoughtfully, “He can’t know.”
Johnny nods in agreement, “So where next?”
“We carry on,” decides V, “still don’t know what happened next. I mean, they didn’t flatline him, why not? Gonna talk to Selene.”
-
Dusk is approaching when they reach their final destination, as it draws near the familiar outline of the now even more dilapidated wind turbine hovers into view. “This is the place,” Johnny erroneously announces. “We just gonna walk in and start shooting?”
“Jeez Johnny of course not, we want information don’t we, not total carnage?”
Johnny shrugs in a non-committal way.
V had just come off a holo-call with Kerry, he had told him about the bar, about the scavs hanging on his every word and about how hot he looked. He felt bad not telling him the whole truth, but just couldn’t see what good it would do. “You can stay in the truck; I’m going in to talk to them.”
The old Rockerboy was about to argue, the look on V’s face was more than enough to stop him. “Just be careful, I don’t wanna have to explain to Kerry why you’re coming home in the trunk and not the passenger seat.”
Leaving the truck and passing his half-done smoke over to Johnny, V puts his hands deep into his pockets and begins to walk towards the warehouse building, well-aware that there would have been eyes on him from the get go. Johnny has his eyes on a sniper behind an upstairs window, but for now V appears safe from their target practice.
As he nears, V puts his hands in the air and turns around then, a couple of meters from the door he stands and waits.
Up until now, the goons have not shown themselves though it’s obvious they’re around, dozens of vehicles are strewn around the gravel and a deep-thumping beat can be heard coming from inside. A hum indicates the rising of the shutters, rust rains down as they rattle open and a man of indeterminate middle-age dressed in makeshift armour appears.
“Don’t move. Who are you and whaddya want?”
“Name’s V,“ he yells across the distance cocking his head to one side, “your goons can stand down. Just want to talk to Selene.”
The name obviously means something to the other man, he raises an eyebrow and comes a little closer to the ex-merc. “And what’s your biz with Selene?” he hisses.
“No biz, she was a friend of my mom, just wanna talk to her.”
“Vincent?”
The deep, southern tones of the woman he knew in his youth are unmistakable,
“Selene, yeah, erm, hi.”
The chrome is covered in a dark blue boiler-suit and her always striking green eyes are hidden behind shades, but the red hair, less vibrant but still luxurious would have given her away anyway.
“Vincent honey, it’s been twenty years. Why you out here looking for me in the ass-end of nowhere?”
“Twenty-two, just wanted your help with something.” V says cautiously lowering his arms.
“Course sugar, come inside. How’s Martha?” The woman asks, wrapping her arm around V’s waist in a way that seems oddly familiar and leads him inside.
Small-talk exhausted, V is led down a narrow, graffitied corridor and into what seems to be a common-room of sorts. Selene clearly has some power, the assembled goons are variously reverential, sycophantic or dangerously protective, V has rarely missed the comfort of a revolver in his pocket as much as he does right now.
-
Back at the truck, Johnny is making bad decisions, having thankfully dismissed the idea of going in after V with all guns blazing regardless, he has now decided that since he is out of the way for a little while it’s a good time to call Kerry.
No one answers the first time, it’s early evening so Kerry could be getting ready to go out, or maybe napping, there’s even a possibility he’s just ignoring the call. Johnny tries again, this time an annoyed face fills his optics almost straight away,
“What?”
“And a good evening to you too Kerry.” Kerry rolls his eyes and waits for Johnny to continue. “Just thought we could, you know, catch up.”
The white-haired Rockerboy stares back incredulously,
“I saw you a week ago when you came bothering Vince, more’s the pity, had nothing to say to you then, even less now.”
“Ker, we’re going through some stuff to help you out here, a little bit of….”
“Whaddya mean ‘we’? Shiiiiiiit, you’re there with him aren’t you? You’re both gonna fucking get killed. If he gets hurt cause you fucked up I’m gonna personally rip off that good arm at hit you with the wet end. Sheesh. What you bothering me for anyway...has something happened?” Kerry asks in sudden alarm.
Johnny shakes his head in what he hopes is a comforting manner, “Chill choom, he’s just talking to some chick,” Johnny notices Kerry bristle slightly, “we’re nearly done, should be back in a few hours. I was thinking…maybe we could…y’know, get together for a jam when we get back?”
The other man puts the drink he is holding carefully down on the coffee table and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Say that again.”
“I just thought, we could maybe, recapture a bit of that old magic.” Johnny says awkwardly.
“You know I don’t need this right?” asks Kerry, “My last album went fucking platinum over night, I sell out stadiums choom. What’s in it for me?”
“V would like it if we got along.” Johnny wasn’t trying to score a point, merely musing, but it strikes a chord with Kerry nonetheless.
Kerry sighs, “Fine we’ll give it a try. If I hear the magic word.”
Johnny still can’t get used to Kerry having the upper hand, but he needs him on side, “OK fine, please.”
“Get that man back in one piece and we’ll talk.” The call cuts off abruptly and Johnny slumps back into his seat, that’s the scariest shit he’s done all day.
-
V is sat looking more confident than he feels opposite Selene at a rickety wooden table in a room reminiscent of the one on the BD. He’s hyper-aware of being watched by several pairs of distrustful eyes, even if he wanted to try something stupid, he’d never make it out alive.
“I doubt you really came all this way to talk over old times,” says the woman softly, “I’ve seen the scream sheets, the feeds, you’re seeing that Rockerboy feller, that Kerry Eurodyne. If you’re here for vengeance it’s not gonna end well for you Vincent my sweet boy.”
“No, not vengeance. We found this.” V hands the shard over to Selene who hisses through her teeth and whispers urgently to one of the assembled goons.
“Someone fucked up, that’s not for public consumption, but if not vengeance then why are you here?”
“Information. Kerry clearly didn’t get flatlined that night, made it home safe the next day, how? Why? What happened in between?”
Selene sits back in her chair staring V in the eye like she’s deciding which version of the story to tell, she decides on the truth…
-
The car is crowded, the two scavs are in the back with Kerry slumped between them and Selene with her bodyguard driving are in the front. “Where we taking him?” asks the burly hustle.
“Out to Biotechnica Flats, but near the highway so that he’ll be found quickly, can’t let the Corpo scum think they can take us for a joke, I think they’ll get the message when their poster boy is being brought home in a body bag.”
Around half an hour into the incredibly dull journey a deep voice pipes up from the rear seats, “Hey, erm, Selene, I don’t think he’s breathin’.”
“Shit, shit, shit. Stop the car!”
In some ways, this is ideal, saves them a messy and unpleasant job, but having him flatline from an overdose of partying rather than a gunshot isn’t exactly the message they’re trying to send. The car squeals to a halt on the deserted highway and the men in the back drag Kerry’s unresponsive body onto the scorching tarmac, where he sustains his only major injury of the night, a cracked elbow.
“Fucking Hell Clive, do something.” Selene screams at the bodyguard, but his specialty is bullets not heart attacks so he stands staring with the rest of them, until…
“Of course he’s got Trauma Team Platinum.” Sighs an exasperated Selene as the distinctive AV hovers into view. “Leave him, we need to delta. If they see us we’re fucked.”
The quartet hastily scramble back into the car and, with a screech of tyres, turn back towards the warehouse leaving the Rockerboy at the side of the road. Selene watches the action through the rear camera, as he gets lifted into the AV she reflects on how fucked they’re all going to be when the boss finds out.
-
“And we’re you? Fucked I mean.”
“Woo yeah, got my guys taken off of me, lost my position, my son, Charlie, got shipped to the other side of the country. It was rough. But you know what? I was glad he got away, he seemed like a good guy. Not his fault the corpos and his shitty ex fucked him over, yeah it was fine. I still smile whenever I see him on TV or hear him on the radio, and when I heard that my little Vinny was his mainline I knew it had happened for a reason.”
Selene takes V’s hand and leans forward to look into his eyes, “I’m pleased for you, of how things have turned out, but you know a lot about us now, where we live, what we do, and I can’t hold these guys back forever. You need to leave and don’t talk to anybody about what you’ve seen and heard here.”
V nods and Selene walks him to the shutters and out, “Be safe V,” she looks over to the truck, “and say Hi to Johnny, we had a lotta fun back in the day.” V hides his shock well and heads back to the truck to meet Johnny who is leaning fluidly against the passenger door.
“So, did ya find out what you wanted to know?”
V thinks for a moment lighting a cigarette and passing it to Johnny, “I can’t say that I wanted to know all that, I’ll tell you about it on the way home.”
-
The story does not surprise Johnny in the least, Kerry’s behaviour was pretty standard even back in the Samurai days, ‘cept back then it was a hopeful punch to the chest or a friendly ripperdoc that brought him back around. “How much you gonna tell him?”
V gives a deep sigh, “Just what he needs to know, tricked by scavs, rescued by Trauma Team, no need for the rest.”
Johnny nods, lying to save someone’s feelings doesn’t really sit well with him but it’s not his biz, and V’s right, Kerry doesn’t need to know the rest.
The ex-merc’s optics glow green as a call comes in, his favourite face fills the screen, “V, hey. I miss you, you heading back? Find anything out?”
“Not much, be home soon. I’ll tell you then…Ker?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
#cyberpunk 2077#kerry eurodyne#kerry eurodyne x male v#kerry is my muse#johnny silverhand#cyberpunk v#kerry x male v#cyberpunk kerry#v cyberpunk#kerry x v#johnny and v as friends
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Hi. It’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. I’m back with part two of my series, Laurence (I went in age order, ha ha). Laurence’s is based on reporting I saw about their response to her divorce. I’m unsure how true that report is, but I honestly haven’t seen that much else about her. Of all three, she’s the one I had the hardest time with, because of that and because I’m unsure what a relationship would look like given they’re the same age and were peers in school for so long. They’re obviously close (she shows up at all the major events, she clearly spends a lot of time on vacation with them), but beyond that? So like Sebastian, I went for a more friend-ish relationship than a strictly parental one, even if he clearly loves them like one (every time he says “nos enfants” my heart grows two sizes). Hopefully you all enjoy it.
For context, according to the report she spent a week with Brigitte in Touquet and Emmanuel cleared his schedule as much as he could to spend the weekend with her. (PS as a disclaimer: I’m sure her ex is a lovely guy - I just figure Emmanuel and Brigitte are incredibly protective of their kids no matter what, so no hate towards him was meant by this piece.)
II. Laurence
"Where is she?" he asked his wife the second he ran in the door of their house in Touquet. He hated that he couldn’t get there sooner, couldn’t get there the second she had called them in tears as the world had felt like it was ending. He hates more that he has to leave tomorrow, a short weekend the most he could clear from his schedule. He was desperate to make this time count as much as he could.
"She’s on the couch right now in the living room," Brigitte replied sneaking a quick kiss, needing to ground herself in him after the last few days she’s spent providing moral and emotional support, the process bringing up some of the trauma from her own divorce she had worked hard to put behind her while her heart broke at the sight of her daughter in obvious pain.
"How are you doing?" he asked, realizing from the way she was acting that while she has been putting on a strong front for her daughter, it was a front.
"I won’t lie and say it’s been easy for me. It is splitting me in two watching her like this. All I want to do is protect her, to make sure nothing and no one hurts her. It’s what I’ve done my whole life and then this asshole, who promised to love her and cherish her and take care of her for their rest of their lives does this? And there’s nothing I can do to protect her? That hurts far more than anything else this is bringing up. Besides during my divorce, at least I had you -"
"She has us. She’s not alone."
At Brigitte’s nod, he snuck another quick kiss before rushing into the living room, his heart breaking at the sight of this strong, intelligent, kind hearted woman so hurt.
"Men are the worst," he opened with a joke, hoping to bring a smile to her face, rejoicing at the light, surprised chuckle he got from her.
"Not all men," Laurence replied, moving to make room for him next to her on the couch.
"You’re right. Your brother’s not bad."
"And my kids! And my nephews!"
"Of course, although, I said men. They’re still boys," he allowed, sitting next to her and holding his arms out to hug her.
"I’ll keep that in mind," she replied as she settled her head on his shoulder.
"My brothers aren’t horrible, I guess, although, jury’s out on your Uncles."
"Still holding grudges?"
"You hurt one of my girls, and I never forget that," he told her very seriously, so she knew and could appreciate the full weight of what he was saying.
"You’re forgetting someone pretty important in that list there, Manu."
"Am I?"
"Yeah. You’re not the worst."
"I don’t know about that. As soon as you hung up, I threatened to send the army on him. Ask your mother. She had to talk me down off that ledge."
"Why did she do that?" she asked with another light laugh.
"I know, right? Something about ‘abuse of power,’ and ‘she wouldn’t come visit me in jail,’ and I think she may have mentioned something about how he’s ‘still the kids’ father.’”
"She’d so visit you in jail," she replied, levity starting to work its way back in, especially at the image of her mother visiting him during visiting hours, a smile finally back on her face.
"That was her weakest argument," he agrees with a smile of his own.
"I mean. She wouldn’t be happy about it, but she’d be in anytime there would be visiting hours, and probably would wait outside when she couldn’t be in there with you." She let out a deep breath she didn’t know she was holding. "Thank you. I needed that."
"Humour? I got a whole set of dad jokes lined up. Do you want a pun or corny knock-knock joke first? I read a whole book in preparation on the way over.”
She laughed, full-heartedly at that for the first time in days. "Thank you for cheering me up, for supporting me, for always being here when I need you."
"Listen to me," he said, pulling back to she could look him in the eyes and see how much he meant it, "you are my girl. I meant what I said - no one hurts my girls and gets away with it. Not your mother, not you, not your sister, not my granddaughters. He hurt you. He will not be getting away with it. Not on my watch.
"I’m sorry I only have this short time to be here in person right now. It’s in moments like this that I wish my schedule was more my own, more normal, because if I could take the full week off and bunker down here with you and your mother, I would. But I am always one phone call or text message away, any time day or night, any country or time zone. Because I am here for you, always."
She smiled as she saw her mother enter the room, clearly feeling like she needed to join them. "Come on, maman," Laurence waved her over.
Brigitte settled on the other side of Laurence from her husband, making sure she was cocooned in their love. "We love you," Brigitte snuck a kiss to her forehead.
"I love you two, too."
Hellooooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️
Oh my heart! No but seriously, If I thought it couldn’t get better and sweater than Sebastian’s story, you just completely proved me wrong. In all ways! 👏🏻
Even through the difficulty that it is to write stories about their kids, you just continue to do it and brilliantly! And I continue to repeat myself but I can’t get tired of saying it... love how hard you work on trying to stay true to the actual characters involved! Thank you, really appreciate it!
Hahaha Emmanuel threatening to send the army on him for hurting his girl, the conversation between Emmanuel and Laurence about Brigitte reasoning him on it and saying that her mum would visit him on jail made me laugh! But that kind of laugh with a very warm feeling in the heart 🤧🥰🥰
This means, there’s only one story of the kids left ☹️ hahaha I wanted more because it’s just so beautiful!
Thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️
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🏴Cardiff Surprise Songs🏴
🩷I Forgot That You Existed x This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things🖤
🤍I Hate It Here x the lakes🩶
So naturally I’m going to say something about the second mashup as it’s my favorite TTPD song with my favorite folklore song. They’re my favorites because I heavily relate to them. I joked to some friends a few days ago about a mashup of these two and the fact that she’s done it blows my mind. I’m a young introverted AuDHD woman who is very self-conscious and constantly daydreaming and creating music and worlds and stories in my mind and I’ve been like that for as long as I can remember. I used to be extroverted but I think years of grade school bullies and more recently the rise of the pandemic has turned all that on its head. I don’t exhibit the symptoms of maladaptive daydreaming, but I do frequently find myself more at home in my daydreams than I do in my real life in college and my pretty much otherwise nonexistent social life. Aside from the lovely woman I live with, who we’ll call “Libby” and her fiancé we’ll be calling “Clint”, Tumblr is how I talk to most people. I do have other friends in college, but we don’t really hang out and text often. Tumblr and my writing is my great escape, and admittedly, it’s not just Taylor’s music, especially in folklore and evermore and quite a few of the Anthology tracks on TTPD that makes me feel seen, as Taylor wrote folklore and evermore during lockdown;
It’s Sherlock. Mates, there are several reasons why this sideblog serves as both my place for Sherlock RP/posts and Taylor posts, and only part of it is how imhaimh (my Johnlock fic I’m writing on AO3 you can read here) is slightly inspired by Taylor’s music, especially the third chapter roughly based on The Albatross, and the fact that several of her songs remind me of Sherlock and John in general.
It’s the fact that Taylor Swift and Sherlock Holmes make me feel the same sort of feelings, even here when talking about things like this. I am an anglophile. I dream of moving to London. I have the same passion for the city Taylor does even though I’ve never dated a London Boy. It’s been years since I’ve last been, and I bloody miss it for all it is. The lights, the double-decker busses, Harrods, the Underground, being on top of the Shard, riding the London Eye, sightseeing in general (I’ve been to all the big sights; well, most of them)
And then my dearest Tumblr mutual and imhaimh beta reader @gingaaaaa (Hi Ginger! It’s Coral! You rock, mate!) told me to watch BBC Sherlock, and I did. And I adored it.
And it kills me how much I relate to Sherlock. 😂
Oh, believe me, I am nowhere near his level of intelligence, but still… you may remember from my old run of the roleplay back when Shezza was involved as Sherlock that I had taken Myers-Briggs for the first time in several years to find that I was INTP despite having been ESFJ when I was younger. I had completely FLIPPED, which I did not expect. Our brains work similarly despite me lacking a Mind Palace (as far as I know; probably looks more like a Mind Flat to me 👀) and…
I am starting to suspect that I am a high-functioning sociopath.
And I know Sherlock really isn’t, but I’ve looked at the symptoms and I am manipulative 😂 I am so deceitful and in such an unhealthy way. But seriously, it’s the antisocial tendencies I get the most. I am an “I work alone” type person most of the time, and from on here, it may not seem like it, but I am. If I could find my John someday, I would be eternally grateful, but for now, I am my own blogger.
This post is so derailed. It’s 21:11/9:11 PM and I am delaying brushing my teeth to write this post. Haha
But yeah. I’m only 20. I’m still growing as a person. Fuck, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted in life when I was 14 and I was wrong! Here I am changing my major because college helped me decide that my “dream career” would have actually been a bloody nightmare! LMAO
Thanks for sticking around, by the way. I’m a fucking dork, but to my mutuals, whether I met you on my main @adumpofdumbstuff or on this sideblog, I am your fucking dork. Take care.
#tldr: taylor swift and sherlock are my life#taylor swift#the eras tour#i forgot that you existed#this is why we can't have nice things#i hate it here#the lakes taylor swift#long post#thank you post
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Tyler Baltierra defended his wife’s honor after some of his Instagram fans used Tyler’s newly buffed body as a reason to shame Catelynn Lowell into working out more.
On Sunday, the Teen Mom: The Next Chapter star took to social media to show off the progress he’s made in his fitness journey over the last year, earning him lots of kudos from fans, as well as his wife Catelynn.
“I still have a long way to go until reaching my goals, but I like to post my progress as a reminder to myself of where I started, how far I’ve come, & why I keep putting in the work!” Tyler wrote in his thirst-trap photo caption.
While many fans took to the comment section to praise Tyler for the hard work he’s been putting in at the gym, the shirtless selfies also garnered some hateful words directed at Cate, with one person suggesting that Cate go “get on that treadmill” and “get healthier” in order for her and Tyler’s lifestyles to be “in sync.”
Tyler responded with a lengthy comment defending his wife and their relationship, while also telling the body-shamers to “leave [Cate] alone” and stop comparing their “own individual journeys.”
“Whoa hold up, absolutely NOT! She doesn’t need a treadmill for her body to be desirable to me or for our lives to be in ‘sync,’ are you [for real] right now!?” Tyler wrote.
“That woman’s body has brought 4 of my beautiful children into this world!” Tyler wrote in defense of Cate. “That body has been with me through everything! That body has fought through hell & back to be the woman & wife she is today!”
“That body has held & nurtured my children,” he continued. “That body has even held me like a baby at times when I was at my breaking point…so DON’T YOU DARE tell my wife what she needs to do with her body … .
“We don’t outgrow each other, we GROW WITH EACH OTHER, through every high and low!” Ty continued. “Her body is perfect TO ME and that’s all that matters….”
Tyler proceeded to screenshot his response and share it to his Instagram Story, along with a message to all of his followers.
“If you share this woman’s opinion, please do me a favor & unfollow me,” he wrote on Instagram Stories. “I have no room for this type of energy! All I’m doing is sharing my OWN INDIVIDUAL fitness journey & every time I share it, people have to share their unsolicited opinion about my wife & I’m sick of it!
“If you don’t support my wife, then you don’t support me & I don’t want you here,” he continued.
Fans later applauded Tyler for speaking up for his wife; however an exchange between Tyler and the guy Cate’s brother has claimed is Ty’s rumored boyfriend had some criticizing the #GirlDad.
(As The Ashley previously told you, Cate’s brother Nick alleged on Instagram Live last month amid a very public family feud that Tyler is in a secret relationship with a music artist in Arizona named Sik World–real name John.)
Sik World jumped into the comment section of Tyler’s post on Monday to compliment Tyler’s “gains,” with both he and Tyler going on to make multiple jokes about the rumor of their secret relationship.
“Damn!” Sik World wrote. “My apparent secret boyfriend making all kinds of gains BEAST!”
“@sikworld YO! I’m so dead right now lmao!,” Tyler replied.
Tyler and Sik World continued to make light of the rumors surrounding them, with the former calling out the latter for being “so bad at hiding our secret.”
“That’s it, we’re breaking up, I can’t trust you anymore!,” Tyler told Sik World.
The friends ultimately exchanged comments insisting that they were being “sarcastic” about the whole thing, while acknowledging there would still be people who would take what they were saying seriously.
“@tylerbaltierramtv [despite] these clearly sarcastic comments, the fact SOMEONE out there will read these and think ‘yup… I knew it’,” Sik World wrote, to which Tyler replied, “@sikworld & that’s literally the best part about it all lmao!”
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The Housemaid’s Secret | Freida McFadden | Published 2023 | *SPOILERS*
“Don’t go in the guest bedroom.” A shadow falls on Douglas Garrick’s face as he touches the door with his fingertips. “My wife...she’s very illl.” As he continues showing me their incredible penthouse apartment, I have a terrible feeling about the woman behind closed doors. But I can’t risk losing this job - not if I want to keep my darkest secret safe...
It’s hard to find an employer who doesn’t ask too many questions about my past. So I thank my lucky stars that the Garrick’s miracoulsly give me a job, cleaning their stunning penthouse with views across the city and preparing fancy meals in their shiny kitchen. I can work here for a while, stay quiet until I get what I want.
It’s almost perfect. But I still haven’t met Mrs. Garrick, or seen inside the guest bedroom. I’m sure I hear her crying. I notice spots of blood around the neck of her white nightgowns when I’m doing laundry. And one day I can’t help but knock on the door. When it gently swings open, what I see inside changes everything...
That’s when I make a promise. After alll, I’ve done this before. I can protect Mrs. Garrick while keeping my own secrets locked up safety.
Douglas Garrick has done wrong. He is going to pay. It’s simply a question of how far I’m willing to go.
Mille is back and better than ever.
Several years since the events of the last book concluded, Secrets takes place in New York City, where Millie resides in a small apartment in the South Bronx. Two years ago, she was in a happy relationship with Enzo, the Italian landscaper from the first novel. However, after a stroke leaves his mother destitute, he returns to Italy to be with her, leaving Millie behind.
Now, Millie is in a relationship with Brock, a young successful patent lawyer. He’s looking for commitment and a long-term thing but Millie is still hesitant to take anything further. Especially as Brock is in the dark about her own past.
For years after helping Nina in the last book, Millie has helped several more young women get out of seriously abusive situations in a more legitimate way, with the help of Enzo as well. The resources they had were limited, but their efforts went a long way in helping to save many women.
But now, Millie is attempting to get her life on track in it’s own legitimate way. She is taking social work classes at a community college, while also working part-time for the Garrick family. They live in an upscale penthouse apartment on the Upper West Side. Douglas Garrick is a seemingly very successful man, handsome in his own way and his wife, Wendy, is ill, oftentimes staying inside the guest bedroom during the duration of Millie being inside the apartment.
However, Millie makes contact with Wendy despite being told by Douglas to leave her alone. What Millie sees terrifies her. When Wendy appears in the doorway, her face is bruised and battered. Wendy assures her that she cannot get away from her husband, as he is very powerful and will do whatever it takes to find her should she attempt to take off. Millie leaves it be for a while, but explains that she could help.
The next day, Wendy, who had hired Millie because of her reputation for helping abused women, makes the plan to get out. Millie rents a car, and drives Wendy to Albany, where she is to stay in an unassuming motel and await the arrival of a friend from college the next morning to take her back to her farm upstate. However, Millie receives a call from Wendy a day or two later, stating that Douglas had found her, and brought her home.
Millie rushes over, and Wendy seems resigned that she cannot be helped. But quickly changes her mind and Millie believes that she is going to kill her husband after she shows Millie a hidden gun inside a hollowed out dictionary. On what is supposed to be Millie’s last day working for the Garrick’s, she hears what sounds like a struggle inside the guest bedroom, and when she opens the door, finds Douglas Garrick attempting to choke his wife. Millie knows she won’t be able to stop him herself without something, so she runs to find the gun, brings it back and ends up shooting him point blank in the chest after he refused to let her go.
Wendy is shocked, but thankful that Millie happened to be there. She tells Millie to go, that she will take care of everything. Millie does as she’s told, and returns to her apartment. She thinks she’s in the clear, until the NYPD shows up at her door asking her to come down to the station.
Having spent the last several weeks avoiding telling Brock anything about her past, Millie has to confess in detail when she is being questioned by the police. Brock is shocked, but still attempts to represent her as her lawyer, but it becomes too much for him and he leaves after Millie is accused of not only murdering Douglas Garrick, but also being accused of having an affair with him...something told to the police detectives by his wife Wendy.
She is released, and returns to her apartment where all over the news is the reports of Douglas Garrick’s murder. But the man on the screen is not the man that she reportedly shot the night before. While they do bare some resemblence to each other, the man on the screen is about 30 pounds heavier, and Millie has never seen him a day in her life.
At this point, we come to Wendy’s point of view. She married Douglas Garrick, a man who is a bit on the larger side dealing with a heart problem, as he had invented a type of technology used by the majority of the banks around the world. He has more money than he knows what to do with, and Wendy feels she is the right woman to take him on, and turn him into the perfect man.
Despite marrying, they end up living completely separate lives. Wendy often stays in their penthouse apartment that Douglas hates, and he stays in the home on Long Island. Wendy is all about spending money and keeping up appearanes, while Douglas is the complete opposite. Prior to marrying, she signed a pre-nup stating at the time of divorce, she would be entitled to 10 million dollars, but if he happened to pass during the duration of their marriage, she would get everything.
During this time, Wendy meets a man named Russell Simonds, who owns and works for a furniture store in the city, and is also the husband of Marybeth, Douglas Garrick’s secretary. Wendy seduces him, and for the last several months, they have embarked on a secret love affair. Wanting to get out of her marriage to Douglas, who also learned of the affair, they hatch the plan: Russell would pose as Douglas, hire Millie and Wendy would play the role of the battered wife. The events that happened would then unfold, and when Wendy invites the real Douglas over after Millie had left, Russell is meant to enter and shoot him point blank in the chest, but he cowards out. Wendy then takes over the role, shooting her husband to death.
They then pin this on Millie and the two of them rush off to the cabin owned by Russell’s wife Marybeth a few hours outside of the city. Millie and Enzo, who returned from Italy and is now back helping her get out of this, try to find out what they can about the real man inside the apartment that Millie had shot. They do learn the truth, and Millie wants to confront them at the cabin.
However, when we come back to Wendy’s perspective, the two of them are living cozily in the apartment when she receives a call from Douglas lawyer and best friend to discuss what will now happen with his estate. He tells her that just a month prior to his demise, he had changed his will and left everything to charity instead of her. This greatly upsets her, and then she hears a commotion in the bathroom.
She finds Russell dead in the bathtub where they’d been relaxing prior to the phone call coming through. Wendy believes this to be Millie, who she realizes that she has greatly underestimated. However, it is not Millie who has come to the cabin, but Marybeth. She had slit her husband’s throat, and tells Wendy that she will write a confession, explaining that she had had an affair with her husband, and plotted to kill her husband. Now, she is sure they did wrong, and she will not be taking her life along with Russell’s. Wendy does as she is told, and Marybeth explains that she has ingested a drug that will cause a deadly heart arrthymia.
The next morning, Millie returns to her apartment after fleeing Enzo’s. She expects a bunch of police waiting for her, but it is only one officer who explains they’d like her to return to the station but she is not under arrest and she has no obligation to. Millie does go, looking to hear what happened when she learns that Wendy Garrick has died.
When she arrives at the police station, the detective on the case explains to her that Wendy had confessed everything, and she is now a free woman. He apologizes for the way the department acted with her, though Millie does understand seeing as she has a police record. The detective also gives her his card, saying she now has a friend in the department should she ever run across a woman in need again, and they would do everything to help.
Millie finds Enzo waiting outside in the lobby, and the two of them embark on their love affair as if it had never ended. Three months later, the two of them are moving back in together. Brock appears, looking for items that he had left behind. He asks her about his heart medication he left in her medicine cabinet, and she tells him that she must have thrown it away. But, we come to see that Millie had spoken with Marybeth, and given her the medication and that the events in the cabin unfurled after that. Millie declares herself dangerous, but not in the way people think.
I really hope McFadden comes up with more of these stories. They’re too good. I finished this one in less than 24 hours, and that was with 8 hours of sleep in between. Such easy reads, page-turning, and entertaining. I hope Millie and Enzo are around for years to come!
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SOUNDCHECK Issue 1, 1983
TOYAH: Picking Up Those Broken Pieces “Everyone was frightened of me. If any girls tried to bitch me they knew I’d start to swing my fists. I’m becoming more intellectual about my hatreds. I’ll grow in wisdom but not in years." "I’ve deliberately thrown my old image out of the window, all the coloured hair - you can still look good with natural hair. I won’t be dying it again when I’m 35.’” Toyah has always confused me as much as I’ve never been able to decide whether I like the lady or not. Let me explain . . . From a musical level the whole Toyah concept had never managed to ring true. Her whole approach to the punk phenomenon has had a phoney wild, but not too dangerous to be family entertainment, feel about it as if the raw product has been shoved head first in a corporate machine - masticated and regurgitated out of the other end of homogenized, safe as milk, new wave. TV personality fodder.
I totally ignored this imitating little flea of a bint who kept cropping up on the box giggling and squealing, a totally prefabricated “let’s play naive” approach which had all the charm and appeal of rock’n’roll alternative to Bonnie Langford.
It wasn’t until the release of I Want To Be Free that yours truly started succumbing to the phenomenon thousands of kids and housewives had sussed out already. The video featuring T as the axe-wielding newly-wed, trashing her cake a la Texas Chainsaw Massacre totally won me over. In true Makowski manner by the time I got hip to this lady’s trip she had become totally uncool in the eyes of the media. The flavour of the month now had a bitter edge to its taste. So, while the music weeklies proceeded to dissect the woman’s every move with the delicacy of a morgue attendant with a blunt pen knife, I began to study her progress and became more enamoured with every move, although I must add that I still couldn’t help feeling hyper-critical too. I listened to the the new album Love Is The Law and the single The Vow, which come in the wake of a tour and, after much wrangling and false starts, managed to track down Toyah for a quick chat in-between a hectic rehearsal schedule.
This was my first encounter with her and there was a certain amount of resistance to my interrogations. But gradually that frothy bubbly persona that has enchanted square eyes nationwide began to surface and my main concerns led me to believe that the damsel has finally matured, developing into a very entertaining realistic person who plans on being around for a long time. The “angry young lady”, who used to spout about the arrival of the antichrist, has gone along with the coffin she used to sleep in to be replaced with a more enchanting hypnotic character who takes her music career seriously enough to temporarily abandon a very lucrative acting career in order to give her recording and roadwork total focus. “In the early days I felt that I had to go around mouthing off”, she revealed. “It was the only way I could get any attention. Now that I’ve established myself I don’t feel I have to be so upfront any more." "Anyway, people either love or hate me. Take the press. From my experience so far, a lot of journalists are usually so biased before they’ve even met me. I dunno, it really makes you wanna beat people up. Nowadays I’m my own critic. My audience doesn’t read the weekly papers, they’re into heavy books or Smash Hits.”
When I told her that I didn’t feel her new single was her best piece of work, considering there are so many better tracks on the album, she revealed that it wasn’t her choice of track and in fact didn’t know it was coming out until actual release. “The thing is that Love Is The Law is our last release on Safari so I’ve come to terms with the fact that a lot of things with them are going to be out of my control. That’s something I’ll learn to live with. Two years ago we sacked our manager and since then we’ve been taking care of business ourselves." "Since getting involved in this business I’ve never been through so much shit. Maybe it’s a case of the same old story. There’s always ups and downs in this business and if you manage to survive then there’s no reason why you can’t be around forever.” The nucleus of Toyah comprises guitarist/arranger/songwriter Joel Bogen. “Joel and I stick together. In my situation it’s really unfair to hold a band down and prevent them from doing any other work and it’s too expensive to pay retainers when you don’t know when you’ll be doing anything again. Anyway, whoever it is, we always consider it as our group of friends.”
Now that her Safari days are over, Toyah looks at the latest album as the completion of the trilogy which began with The Changeling and Anthem. The end of an era, so to speak. Toyah regards the change in the labels as opportunity for a fresh start, especially as far as her plan for global acceptance is concerned and this crooning chameleon has an opportunity to start afresh and present this “coming of age” image to a potentially massive new market in America. “My style has definitely matured, my voice has strengthened and my audience … well, I really try and prevent putting them into categories; old or young, they’re all the same to me and I love them. Things are slowly coming together.” “We’re picking up the pieces, All the little pieces … “ (Broken Diamonds) Pete Makowski
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MY BEST GIRL
SEQUEL TO GOOD GIRL
A/N: oh my god! it's been almost an entire year since i posted good girl and its crazy that it has over 4k notes now! you guys have been begging me for a sequel and it took me long to write it, but now its finally here!! so join our lovely couple for one last ride!
PAIRING: CEO!Harry Styles X Reader
WARNING: sexual content (kinda slightly?)
WORD COUNT: 14.3k
SUMMARY: It's been a year since your arrangement with Harry turned into a love story. Now you're living happily with the man of your dreams, but something causes some trouble in your little paradise. Or maybe someone...
MASTERLIST
The expensive, silky sheets are hugging your naked body softly, the mattress underneath you feels like a cloud and makes you want to never get up. You hate how comfortable Harry’s bed is, makes the mornings a hundred times harder and you’re already not a morning person. He should have gotten a wooden box, that would be easy to leave, not this ocean of comfort he calls his bed.
Well, it’s not just his anymore, it’s yours too. Because two months ago you officially moved in with him. You basically already had most of your stuff here, but you finally ended your lease and moved the rest over to his place, taking this next step in your relationship that’s been going strong since that one hell of a night when he barged into the bar you were staying at, you both made a jealous scene of your own before you realized you’ve wanted the same thing all along: each other.
Now he is your boyfriend. Oh God! It sounds so amazing, calling him your boyfriend. Harry Styles, the hottest man in the business is yours and you get to come home to him every day. Well, most of the time you get home before him, but you don’t mind it. You love waiting for him to return from work, all tired but always radiating power, you just can’t keep your hands to yourself. Not that you need to, Harry is always just as eager to be with you as you are.
Sometimes, you feel like you’re a teenage couple, always handsy and horny, so passionate about each other, you have no idea how people around you still put up with the two of you.
Speaking of others, your relationship is so official you’ve already met each other’s parents. You were a nervous wreck before meeting Anne, so afraid she might think you’re not good enough for her son, that you’re just a little girl, not the person she imagined for her extremely successful son. But it all turned out to be the opposite, she was such a delight and kept telling you how happy she was to finally meet the woman who swept Harry off his feet finally.
“Mum, you act like I was ready to live in celibacy for the rest of my life,” Harry protested over dinner when Anne said she thought she would never see him with a woman by his side.
“Well you didn’t bring anyone home, what should have I thought?!” she talks back, making you smile while Harry just rolls his eyes at his mother. “But I’m so glad you are in great hands now,” she added, her hand finding yours on the table, giving it a loving squeeze that almost made you tear up.
Harry met your parents as well and though he looked confident, you knew he was shitting his pants, especially because you told him your dad might be judgmental because of the age difference. Essentially, you were right, you could feel the tension upon arriving even though your mother was an angel and welcomed Harry with so much love. But with a little time and warming up to each other, your dad also saw that Harry is treating you right and that he should be happy about you finding the man you’ve been looking for all your life. Though he didn’t let Harry leave without a fatherly talk of ripping his balls off if he hurts you. Harry took it very seriously while you just laughed at it, because your dad is not the aggressive type.
Now it’s been an entire year of being so hopelessly in love with this man you live with and it’s been the best year of your life. You’ll be graduating soon and you already have a job offer for after school, one you got for your own hard work and not because Harry pulled some strings. You made it clear you don’t want him to interfere in your career and he has been nothing but respectful of your decision. Everything is coming up so great, sometimes you don’t even believe it’s your life.
Soft lips meet the back of your neck and they travel down your naked back, peppering your exposed skin with sweet kisses as you hum into your pillow.
“I know you’re awake,” Harry teases you, his arm snaking around your waist to turn you over. You blink your eyes open rolling to your back as you finally meet his bright green eyes and tousled chocolate locks. “Morning, Love,” he smirks before leaning down he kisses your lips.
“Good morning, what time is it?” you ask, curling your arms around his neck to keep him close to you.
“A little after eight.”
“It’s Saturday, why did you wake me up so early?” you pout at him, but you don’t actually mind it.
“Because we are having brunch with my new partner, remember?” he hums, kissing your lips again before peeling himself out of your arms, a whine leaving your lips as you watch him stand from the bed.
A little over six months ago Diana broke the news that she was finally pregnant. Despite the rocky start of your relationship with her, you’d been getting along with her quite well once it was cleared that she is not out to steal Harry from you. When she told you and Harry that she is pregnant you felt nothing but happiness for her, but it also meant that she would eventually have to put work down for a while. It took some time for her and H to find someone to replace her, but the person was found last week and Harry has been bugging you to meet up with Alana, his new partner. So this brunch was arranged with not just you and her but also a few other people from the company who’ll be working close with her. A little get to know each other over great food, that can never be a bad idea.
“Don’t even try to go back to sleep, baby,” Harry warns you chuckling when he sees your eyes closing as he is getting around the room.
“Mm, just… resting my eyelids a little more,” you mumble. A moment later you feel the mattress dipping on either side of you, Harry holding himself up above you, a smirk tugging on his lips when you open your eyes and look at him.
“If you go back to sleep, you’ll miss the chance,” he murmurs, his eyes wandering down your naked chest.
“The chance to what?” you arch an eyebrow.
“To fuck in the shower,” he bluntly says before pushing himself up and heading into the bathroom, leaving the door open. That wakes you up, shower sex is just way too good to miss out on, so you spring to your feet as soon as you hear the water running, joining your boyfriend in the enormous walk in shower, but instead of cleaning up yourselves, you rather get dirty in there…
A few others are already there, people you’ve met at events you attended as Harry’s plus one and you’ve gotten along with them pretty well. When you became official with Harry you were afraid people around him wouldn’t take you seriously and see you as just an immature girl. There were a few occasions that proved your fear right, but most of your experiences have been quite positive. No one really has the guts to treat you bad when you have Harry by your side.
The two of you are welcomed warmly upon arriving, joining the table, but the group is still not complete, Alana is still not there.
“So what is she like?” you ask Harry quietly, secluding yourself from the conversation at the table. He shrugs.
“Highly competent to take Diana’s place, that I’m sure about.”
“And that’s not what I wanted to know. I figured she would be good at the job,” you breathe out, finding it a little funny that this is what he thought you wanted to know about. But before you could rephrase your question, the person in talk walks in. And your jaw drops to the floor.
You like to think that you don’t get jealous and insecure easily. Not after spending so much time with Harry, the absolutely most handsome man in the city. You have to be the real deal to score a man like him. But the moment Alana strides into the place, all male gazes are glued to her tall, supermodel-like figure with legs that never seem to end, her tight dress doesn’t cover much of them either as well as from her cleavage, though she tried to make the outfit decent with a blazer. Her dark, extremely dark, thick hair is in a stylish pixie bob style, something you could probably never pull, at least not like she does. Her makeup is flawless, judging from her features one of her parents might be Asian, her almond shaped eyes appear even longer with the perfect eyeliner running along her lashes. Plump, red lips, freshly manicured nails and a smile that could charm anyone basically. That’s Alana. The woman your boyfriend is gonna work with very closely.
“So sorry for being a bit late, there’s been an accident in my street this morning and I could barely get through the barricade,” she apologizes right away and your blood boils when you hear the British accent.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Harry smiles as he stands from his seat and greets her with a short hug before starting to introduce her to everyone around the table.
Everyone turns into a fangirl basically as they get to meet the woman, as if she was some kind of celebrity, while you’re sitting there, waiting for your turn, trying not to look as insecure as you feel at the moment.
This woman is going to be working with Harry? This is worse than when you met Diana. Bless her soul, but even she looks like a wanna-be Instagram model while Alana is Naomi Campbell.
Last in the line, she finally reaches you, Harry standing next to her as you get up from your seat, plastering your best fake smile across your face, holding out a hand to her.
“And this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Harry introduces you and for a split second, you see the surprise in her eyes.
Ha! Yeah, you heard that right! Girlfriend!
“Oh, girlfriend! Wow, it is so nice to meet you!” she sing-songs as you shake hands shortly.
“Nice to meet you too! Though I don’t work at the company, I’m sure we’ll see each other often,” you smile at her, but there’s some spice in your words. It was a warning, that you’ll be around, so she shouldn’t try with any funny business.
The way she stares back at you lets you know that the message went through, though you’re not sure how she welcomed it. You can’t read her expression as she smiles and nods before you all take your seats and of course, Alana sits next to Harry.
She really is smart, that you can tell pretty early on and it makes you even madder, because she is not only a bombshell, but she also got the brains, which is highly unfair. It seems like she enjoys the attention that she easily gets from all the men around the table, and while you’re trying not to be bitter, you can’t help but feel tense about her entering your life all of a sudden.
“Everything alright?”
Harry’s hand squeezes your thigh gently under the table, grabbing your attention. Glancing up at him from your plate you nod with a soft smile, even though you want nothing else than leave as soon as possible.
“Yeah, just… got a bit lost in my thoughts.”
“Hope you are not stressing about school again,” he smiles at you curiously, making you laugh.
You’ve been a little all over the place about finishing school, there were times when you really didn’t think you’d finish, but Harry was always the one who pulled you back into reality and made you realize that you got this. He truly is your biggest fan and he is also convinced you have nothing to worry about, you’ll ace everything.
“No, surprisingly,” you chuckle as he smirks at you and leaning closer he kisses your temple.
“You guys look so adorable,” Alana chimes in from Harry’s other side. “How long have you been together?”
“A year and three months,” Harry answers easily. You always get surprised how great he keeps track of it, a lot of men can’t remember dates this well, but not Harry. In fact, for your first anniversary he flew you out to Paris and the two of you spent the most romantic weekend at a luxurious hotel that had the best view of the Eiffel Tower. Though it was your first time in Paris, or even in Europe, you didn’t get to do as much sight-seeing as you hoped, but you don’t mind, because the time you spent at the hotel was just as unforgettable as exploring the city.
“And how did you guys meet?”
“Um,” you hum and then let out an awkward chuckle. “He was a guest at one of my lectures. He asked me out after his presentation,” you tell her giving her the shorter version of what happened.
“Like, university?” she asks, pulling her perfectly shaped eyebrows together.
“Yeah,” you nod.
“Wait, so how old are you then?”
You should have expected it. You really should have. But still, you want to slap her across her pretty face to bring it up.
“I’m twenty-two,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.
“Oh, you’re so young! I wouldn’t have even guessed!” she answers, but you can hear the meaning behind it: “I didn’t think Harry would date a little girl like you.”
As an answer you just give her a forced smile before turning back to your plate, not wanting to carry the conversation on. Bless his soul, Harry is so oblivious to what’s going on between the two women by his sides, but at least he is not giving you a hard time for being jealous.
At one point, Alana excuses herself to go to the restroom and you were planning to go at the same time, but you wait a little so you don’t have to go together. When you think she will be returning any moment you head to the restrooms as well. The room is designed that upon entering the ladies restroom there’s a short corridor and then you have to turn left to arrive to the area with the sinks, the stalls further down. Just as you walk in, you stop at the door upon hearing Alana’s voice who is definitely on the phone with someone.
“No, she is like… ridiculously young. Would have never guessed he would date a girl like her.”
She is talking about you, the sneaky little bitch is gossiping about you!
“I mean she looks pretty, but nothing extraordinary, if you know what I mean.” Your mouth hangs open at her comment. It’s not that you think you are the most gorgeous woman to ever walk the planet, but her words are unnecessarily hurtful, even though she doesn’t know you can hear them.
Leaning against the wall you keep eavesdropping with no hint of shame, if she chooses to talk shit about you publicly, it’s her fault she does it at the wrong place.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she chuckles at something the other person said in the phone. “I was taken aback when I learned that he is not single, but she is no competition. I’ll have him wrapped around my finger in no time.”
Your blood is boiling, this is not how you imagined this morning to go. And the worst thing? You can’t tell Harry. Men are so quick to assume you’re throwing a fuss because you’re insecure and not because it’s the truth and you don’t think he would be different. At least it’s not what you’ve experienced with your previous partners and you don’t want to risk making Harry think that you’re an overly jealous little girl.
Right now, it’s a problem you are facing on your own. And you have to solve it smartly, because there’s too much on the line.
When you hear Alana ending her call in there you quickly leave the restroom and head back to the table, so she doesn’t know you heard her. Harry gives you an odd expression for returning so quickly, but you just tell him you only wanted to wash your hands. Alana soon returns with absolutely no idea that you heard her phone call, which is an advantage for you, but you still have a lot to do to get rid of the woman who is trying to steal your man.
“Leaving without your morning coffee?” Harry asks in surprise on Monday morning when you are rushing around, getting ready to leave a lot earlier than you usually do. Most times he leaves way before you, but now he is still sipping on his coffee when you are about to leave, which is a new thing.
“Yeah, I have an early meeting with a TA who is supposed to help with some of my thesis work,” you explain, putting on some shoes and shoving your notebooks you left on the kitchen island last night into your bag.
“Oh, that sounds great!” he hums, nodding into his mug.
“Yeah. Hopefully this way I’m gonna finish it a little earlier than planned and I’ll have time to double check everything before submitting it.” Rushing over to him you cup his face and kiss his pink lips that now taste like coffee. “See you later?”
“Yeah. Have a good day, I love you.”
“You too and I love you too,” you giggle, before stealing another kiss, then swinging your bag over your shoulder, you’re on your way.
Because there’s still plenty of time before the first classes start, the campus feels awfully empty, just some of the early birds lingering around. As you make your way towards the library, you check the time again to make sure you’re not late. You wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on this TA who is saving your ass with his help. One of your professors offered to link the two of you, his name is apparently Logan, he is doing his masters and his research has a lot in common with yours, so in return for the help he can use some of your data for his work. For you, that’s a fair share and worth the time you save for yourself with having another person next to you.
It’s not hard to spot him, because he is the only one in front of the library, very much looking like he is waiting for someone. He is tall with dark hair and welcoming, warm chocolate eyes. The oversized hoodie doesn’t give away much about his physique, but it couldn’t be that bad, that you’re sure of.
As you walk towards him and he realizes that you’re the person he’s been waiting for, a small smile lights up his face, pushing himself away from the wall before taking a few steps towards you.
“Y/N, right?” he asks and you nod smiling back at him, stretching a hand out for him.
“And you must be Logan.”
“That’s right,” he chuckles softly. “Let’s sit down and have a talk, shall we?”
Luckily, the library opens super early on campus, so you are able to take a table in the far corner where you won’t disturb anyone, not that there are many around so early. You then explain everything you’ve been doing for your research and go into details about the part where you need his help. He listens to you carefully and even takes notes. When you’re done, he tells you what data he’ll be most likely using for his research and then you make up a plan about how you’ll go with the whole thing. He seems super nice and eager to help, so you know the two of you will get along well during this process.
“Thank you so much, you are saving me so much time,” you tell him as the two of you walk out of the library.
“No need to thank. I think it’s beneficial for the both of us,” he smiles at you, swinging his bag to his shoulder. “Where should we meet for our sessions?”
“I’m mostly either around here or at home, but I’m flexible so whatever works for you.”
Logan thinks a little, his eyebrows pulling together as he runs his tongue across his lips.
“Well, the library could always be an option, but I’m not opposed to go to your place to have a little more peace, if you don’t mind it.”
“Sure, both could work for me,” you nod.
The two of you agree on the next time you’ll meet and then part ways. You’re more than satisfied with how it all turned out to be.
This time of the semester has got you a little busy. With the end of your studies nearing, you always have something to do, something to work on, or just simply stress about. The days pass by you in a rush and it all mushes into one big mess, you can’t even tell what day it is.
You get so caught up with school work that for a little while you forget about Alana and only focus on the work you’re doing with Logan, often staying in the library long after your classes. Harry has been full of meetings too lately, the changes coming with Diana’s withdrawal and Alana’s introduction takes up a lot of his time, making him work late sometimes.
But at the end of the day you always go home to each other and for you, that’s all that matters. You’ve sensed that both of you have been in desperate need of some time together that doesn’t end up with one of you dozed out on the couch or in bed. It’s not that you haven’t been in the mood to get intimate with each other, you just didn’t have the energy for it with the workload that’s been towering above both of you.
So on Friday, you cancel on Logan, even though you feel bad about it, but you need to make time for Harry as well.
“It’s all good, I understand,” he smiles at you warmly as you break the news to him. “I’ll work a little on my own tonight, if that’s alright though. My roommate is out of town tonight so I’ll have some peace to go through the data.”
“I wouldn’t want you to do extra work, Logan,” you tell him, definitely not wanting to take advantage of his helpfulness.
“It’s not extra work. Some other day you might be the one working on it alone,” he smirks at you shrugging his shoulders. “It’s fine, honestly. Don’t worry about it. I’ll text you where I ended tonight so you can catch up for the next time we meet, how does that sound?”
“Thank you, that’s a great idea,” you nod, giving him a smile before the two of you part ways.
With a little scheming, you got one of Harry’s assistants to clear out his afternoon, so he can be home on time. Luckily, he wasn’t suspicious at all, he texted you happily that he’d be home by the time you arrive back from school. Little does he know that you’ll be the one waiting for him.
The two of you have gotten so used to Suzan cooking for you, it seemed like a good idea to cook together for once, spending time together, so that’s what you planned. Making a quick trip to the grocery store you buy everything you need for the menu and then head home to change and wait for him in the right attire.
Harry has let you know several times how much he loves seeing you in thigh high stockings, so you’ve bought a nice pair with some lace on the top, matching it with a short dress that will surely drive him crazy if he sees you, the apron covering your front. As you fix your outfit, you can’t help the satisfied grin that tugs on your lips, just when the doorman informs you for your request that Harry has arrived into the building.
Quickly, you put on some soft music and make your way out of the bedroom, waiting for him at the kitchen island with all the ingredients on top of it. He will see you right away when he walks in.
Harry opens the front door thinking that no one is home and he stops in his tracks right away when his eyes fall on your figure. After the momentary surprise, he blinks a few times and you see the tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth as he takes in your attire.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school, miss?” he hums, dropping his stuff onto the couch on his way before he reaches you, his hands immediately finding your waist as he pulls you against him, planting a kiss to your lips before you could answer.
“Wanted to surprise you a bit, got ourselves a free afternoon,” you smirk at him coyly, running your hands over his shoulders until you can lace your fingers through his hair at the back of his head.
“So you had something to do with my canceled meetings today?” he narrows his eyes at you, but he is not at all mad at you, of course.
“Maybe,” you shrug innocently.
“And what did you have in mind, wearing this?” he questions, one of his hands sneaking underneath your dress, giving your ass a nice squeeze.
“We are going to cook together and then have sex on every possible surface in the house,” you state confidently.
“In that order? Can we maybe switch them?” he murmurs, his lips already busy kissing along your jawline.
“Yes, so behave a little,” you giggle.
Well, he tries, at first. But you don’t even get through the first few steps of the recipe when he is fucking you from behind in the middle of the kitchen as you hold onto the countertop, your moans and the slapping noises melting together with the music you put on before. As you expected, the stockings really stirred his imagination and he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
When you’re both satisfied, you finally finish dinner and you set the table nicely while he opens a bottle of fine wine.
“Diana asked about you today, she’s been missing you,” Harry tells you over dinner.
“Ah, I’m sorry I haven’t been around the office lately,” you sigh sadly.
“I told her you’re busy with school.”
“I’ll text her sometime, maybe we can have a little shopping spree or something. Also, we have to buy something for her baby shower,” you remind him.
“It’s crazy that she is gonna have a baby soon,” Harry hums, seemingly deep in his thoughts.
“But that’s what she always wanted, right? So it’s a good thing.”
“Of course,” he nods. “I’m happy she found her person, the one she can be happy with for the rest of her life.”
There’s something odd in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. Something that’s been definitely running in his head for a while, but not wanting to push him, you decide to wait for him to figure it out himself and bring it up to you whenever he wants to.
After dinner you move outside with the rest of the wine, watching the spectacular view of the city at sunset, just talking and enjoying each other’s company in peace. Once the glasses empty out, you definitely get back in the mood to stick to the original plan you had for after dinner, Harry hungrily tearing your clothes off as you get back inside, ready to make up for the busy times lately.
“Are you still my good girl?” he murmurs into your ear, pressing you up against the dining table before biting into your soft skin on your neck, your legs wrapped around his waist, his shirt abandoned somewhere on the way from the sliding doors to here.
“Always,” you gasp, sinking your fingers into the hard muscles on his back. He growls as his mouth travels down your chest, taking his time with swirling his tongue around your nipples, giving equal attention to both of them as you basically turn into jelly in his arms. He knows your body so well, almost better than you do, he knows exactly what you need to make you go absolutely feral and desperate for him.
His lips are getting closer to where you need them the most as you lie on top of the table, your legs hooked over his shoulders. But just when he could work his magic, his phone goes off somewhere on the kitchen counter, interrupting the fun you’re having.
“Fuck, let me just mute it, baby. I’ll be back in a second,” he growls, kissing your stomach before rushing over to the device that’s still screaming for his attention.
Panting heavily you push yourself up and watch him grab it, but for your surprise, he doesn’t decline the call right away, just stares at the screen.
“Everything alright?” you call after him.
“I… I think I need to take this,” he answers, looking at you like a sad puppy.
“Do it. I’ll be right here,” you chuckle. He sends you an apologetic smile before answering the call.
“Alana? What is it?”
And just like that, you regret letting him choose the call over you. What does that man stealing bitch want from him when you made sure to clear his schedule? You made sure to have his assistant on board with you to get him just one free afternoon and evening, so why does Alana have to ruin your plans?
Folding your arms over your naked chest, you try to figure out what they could be talking about. It’s a good sign Harry is not trying to hide the conversation from you, but you still don’t like it that you have no idea what she is saying.
“No, that’s not—“ he protests against something. “I told you, I don’t want that to happen.”
If she was here, you’d love to get a hold of that ridiculously smooth looking hair of hers and throw her out for bothering you.
“Lana, that’s not happening. Have you talked to George?”
Lana? Since when is he calling her that? Are they best buds or business partners?
“Fuck, okay, okay! I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just don’t let them sign it.”
And just like that, all your plans go out the window because of Alana. You hop off the table and grab your dress from the floor, already knowing you won’t finish what you started.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Harry sighs, walking back to you just as you put your hair up, trying your best not to lose your temper.
“It’s fine,” you sigh, hoping to make yourself believe it’s the truth. Harry cradles your face in his hands as he forces you to look at him while chewing on your bottom lip, still avoiding his gaze.
“Look at me, please,” he begs you, running his thumbs along your cheeks. At last, you give in and lock eyes with him. “I wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t truly important.”
“I know,” you say and it’s the truth, but it still feels like shit. And kind of like a déjà vu, just like when he left you in bed that one time Diana was calling him. Because that turned out to be nothing like what you thought it was, now you’re just trying to keep your cool and not overreact.
“I just… really wanted to be with you without interruption or any of us half asleep.”
“I know, I’m sorry, baby. I wanted it too. I’ll try to take care of this issue as fast as possible and come back so I can make it up to you.” He kisses your lips softly, over and over again until he sees the pout disappearing. You link your arms behind his neck and kiss him properly to let him know you’re not mad at him.
“I’ll be waiting,” you purr against his lips and you can tell how hard it is for him to leave you too just from the way he is clinging onto you.
But then he peels himself off of you and getting dressed quickly he is out the door in a few minutes.
You change into some comfortable clothes and then clean up after dinner, and then just wait around for a while, watching TV, hoping to see Harry walk in anytime, but hours pass by and there’s no sign of him so you decide to make the best out of the extra time.
Texting Logan you want to check where he left off so you can catch up with him in work. He answers right away and after exchanging a few messages you find yourself in a video call with him.
“What happened to your plans?” he asks. From what you see, he is probably in his bedroom, notes and books laid out in front of him, his face illuminated by a little desk lamp.
“Uh, don’t even ask,” you roll your eyes, still pissed at Alana for ruining your evening with Harry.
“Trouble in paradise?” he chuckles.
“No, just a series of unfortunate events, I guess,” you shrug and then get down to work.
You manage to get a lot done together and even when Logan has logged out, you’re still lying in bed, your laptop next to you, notes and books splattered over the covers. At one point, you fall asleep, not making it until Harry arrives back home.
It’s almost midnight when he finally makes it back, exhausted and disappointed in himself he wasted the time he could have spent with you, on work. He sighs deep seeing the cleaned up kitchen before he makes his way into the bedroom from where he sees some light coming. When he sees your sleeping form in bed, your laptop illuminating your beautiful face, his heart breaks knowing you had to end tonight alone, doing school work.
He rids himself of his clothes and before going to take a shower, he gathers your notes and books, careful not to wake you up, putting them to the dresser. Then he grabs your laptop and just as he is about to close it, he sees what’s open on the screen.
Though Logan has been offline for a while, his profile is still open since you forgot to close the tabs and shut the laptop off. His picture catches Harry’s attention and he zooms in on it so get a better look at the guy you’ve been spending time with lately.
It’s not often that Harry feels jealous or even insecure. Confidence has become one with his personality, but when he sees the young, handsome lad’s photo, his stomach drops in an instant. He is quick to jump into scenarios in his head where the two of you are doing more than just school work, because in his thoughts, there is no way a guy like this doesn’t fall for a girl like you. The image throws him down the rabbit hole.
Why wouldn’t you be into the age appropriate guy from school who looks good and is probably smart too. You’ve been raving about how great working with him has been, so you must be hitting it off during your study sessions.
Shutting your laptop he puts it aside as well before locking himself up in the bathroom, taking a cold shower to cool himself off.
He’s been definitely the confident one in the relationship, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been pushing his fears of you leaving him down. With the major age difference, Harry always had a tiny, evil voice in the back of his head telling him how you’ll most likely want to ditch him for a younger guy sooner or later and now these fears have surfaced more than ever.
He loves you more than anything. Can’t even imagine his life without you and even though you never showed any sign of not returning these feelings on the same level, he is now doubting himself more than ever.
Returning to the bedroom you’re still sound asleep as he gets under the covers, he just lies on his side and watches you for a bit, completely and so hopelessly in love with you.
As if you could feel his gaze on you, stirring in your sleep you blink your eyes open and see that he is finally back home with you.
“Hey! Sorry, I fell asleep,” you mumble half asleep as you cuddle closer to him, his arms locking around you, keeping you tight in his embrace.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come in time. I’m so sorry, baby,” he mumbles, kissing your forehead.
“It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re home now,” you mumble with a sigh and the way you call this place home has his heart in a grip.
“I’ll always come home to you,” he whispers back.
It’s a god sent gift that two of your afternoon classes gets canceled on a Tuesday, so you suddenly have the rest of the day freed up instead of sitting in class until five. After Harry mentioned how Diana has been missing you, you shoot her a text asking if she wants to grab a late lunch with you. The past few weeks she’s been pulling herself out of business, working less and less to the point where he only goes to the office just once a week, and today is that day.
DIANA: Absolutely!! I wanted to leave early anyway!
Y/N: Great! I’ll be at the office in thirty!
You try to call Harry too, but he doesn’t answer, so he is probably at a meeting. You reach his assistant and she confirms your suspicions, Harry has been in a meeting for hours and is not expected to be free anytime soon. It’s a bummer you won’t be able to see him, but you’re also not going there for him.
You’re already a well-known face in the office, no one ever questions your presence whenever you drop by, the front desk workers usually greet you with warm smiles when you cross the lobby of the building and head up with the elevator. Today is no different.
Diana has texted you that she has to finish one last call before leaving, so you decide to wait in Harry’s office that’s supposed to be empty since he is at a meeting.
“Hi, Daisy!” you smile at the assistant you’ve come to know well, though she is not the only one, she has two part time helpers to handle the workload she’s been dealing with.
“Oh! Y/N, hi! Mr. Styles is still in his meeting, I’m afraid.”
“It’s okay, I’m here to meet Diana. I’ll just wait for her in Harry’s office, if that’s alright,” you say, already heading towards the door.
“Um, sure, it’s just that… never mind,” she mumbles and you can’t really tell what’s gotten into her.
Pushing the massive double doors open you walk in, expecting the place to be empty, but you stop in your tracks when you see an all too familiar supermodel-like figure, lying on the leather couch Harry has in the corner of the room.
Alana is resting there like she has no worries in the world, her skin tight pencil skirt has ridden up on her thighs, showing off the lace on her stockings, the top few buttons of her shirt undone, giving you a nice view of her cleavage. That’s the state she is lying in your boyfriend’s office.
She opens her eyes at your arrival and her eyebrows rise, as if she has the right to be surprised to see you there when she is the one treating Harry’s office like her bedroom.
“Oh! Y/N! I didn’t know you were coming in!” She sits up, but takes her sweet time to fix her outfit, as if she was doing you a favor with covering herself up.
“Didn’t know I should call you beforehand every time I decide to come by,” you quip with an irritated smile.
“Oh, I’ve been just having the worst migraines and Harry is always so nice to let me use his office to crash! They are still working on mine and this couch is just so comfortable!”
“And your migraine gets better when you undress?” you purse your lips.
Originally, you wanted to keep your cool around Alana, not let her see just how annoyed you are by her, but you just can’t hold yourself back, this woman is crossing the line. What if Harry walked in instead of you, finding her half naked in his office? What’s worse, what if he is totally fine with it?
“Ah, I just got hot for a minute,” she smiles and shrugs innocently as she stands up, your eyes immediately sliding down to her perfect body. There is not even one flaw in this woman’s appearance and you hate her for that. “Harry is busy right now, want me to give him a message?”
“No thank you. I’m waiting for Diana, actually.”
“I see,” she smiles, but there’s nothing nice or even remotely friendly in her expression. “I’m sorry about ruining your plans the other day, Harry told me you weren’t too happy he had to come in.”
“It’s just rather upsetting when you make sure to clear his schedule and he still gets called in, you know?” you smile back at her viciously.
“I understand. But this is how this business works. You can’t really understand if you’re not in it.”
This is for sure an insult on so many levels, but it’s mostly calling you out for not being the right fit for Harry.
“Oh, I understand it just fine, don’t worry.”
“The transition is a stressful time, Y/N. And though I’m doing my best to take over things smoothly, Harry is the real boss, it can’t happen without him. He needs to focus on his business now.”
You’re moments away from slapping that perfect little face of hers, the top of your ears are on fire at this point from the boiling rage inside you.
“How nice of you to watch out for him. I’m sure you know just what he needs,” you smile at her with forced sweetness in your tone and from the look on her face, she must think she really did something here with her little comment, but you’re not done yet. “I make absolutely sure he’s got everything he needs at home though, don’t worry. I know he focuses the best if he gets his pleasure just how he likes it and I’ve been paying extra attention to that. He’s got quite the hunger, if I’m being honest, but it’s such a luck we are so good together in and outside of the bedroom.”
You see the evil glint in her eyes when you talk about sex with Harry, one thing she will never experience as long as you’re breathing. You refuse to let her get her hands on your man, not on your watch.
“Good to hear,” she smiles with blank eyes and clenched jaw and you take this as a win.
The door opens and Diana walks in, her plump belly appearing in your sight before her. She is glowing, even more than before, wearing a baby blue flowy dress that’s got enough room for her bump.
“Hey!” she smiles, her eyes quickly snapping from you to Alana and you notice her tensing up just a tiny bit. “I’m done now, you want to get going?”
“Sure,” you nod before turning back to Alana. “Maybe next time you have a migraine just take some pills,” you scoff at her before walking out of the office with Diana by your side.
“Are you currently plotting Alana’s death?”
Looking up from your food your eyes meet Diana’s over the table and she cocks her head to the side, already knowing the answer to her question.
“Is it that obvious that I despise the woman?” you huff with a frown.
“It’s written all over your face,” she chuckles. “What happened in Harry’s office?”
“If I tell you a secret, would you promise me not to tell Harry?” you ask her in a discreet tone.
“Of course, what’s up?” she nods, cupping her bump as an instinct.
“We had brunch with Alana a while ago, her and some other board members. I went to the restroom and I heard her on the phone. I don’t know who she was talking to, but she was talking about me.”
“What did she say?”
“That basically I’m too young for Harry and I’m no competition for her. She wants him, Diana. She wants to take him from me.” Your throat closes up as you say the words out loud for the first time. You’ve been keeping it to yourself all along, but now that you’re sharing it with someone, suddenly it feels a lot more real.
“You heard her say that?” her mouth hangs open.
“Yeah,” you nod nervously chewing on your bottom lip, poking the food around on your plate.
“I kind of knew something was wrong with her,” she sighs shaking her head. “But why didn’t you tell Harry?”
“Come on, he wouldn’t believe me. He would just tell me I’m jealous for no reason because I’m sure Alana has been acting just fine around him.”
“What if she’s been flirting with him?”
“Then fuck them both!” you snap, but you both start laughing. “If that’s the case he is either oblivious to it and hasn’t even noticed, or he did notice and chose to keep it from me. I don’t know which one is better, if my boyfriend is blind or if he acts blind.”
“Y/N, Harry is obsessed with you. He would never do anything to hurt you.”
“But I’m not like Alana,” you groan. “I’m too young for him, I’m not a business genius like him and I definitely don’t look like Alana.”
“Why would you want to? You look fucking amazing!”
“Not as amazing as she does!” you whine.
“But Harry is in love with you. Does that not matter to you?”
“It does, but is it enough?” you ask the question you’ve been chewing on for a while. Is love enough to keep you together forever? You’re not entirely sure, especially with people like Alana around.
“Honey,” Diana sighs and reaching over she takes your hand in hers. “What I’ve learned from my relationship is that you have to be honest with your partner. If you feel a certain way, you need to share with them and if they truly care about you they will handle it the right way and you’ll get over it together. Keeping this from Harry will probably not end well and as a friend of his, I know he would want to know if you felt this way.”
Deep down you know she is right. It’s childish to keep things from Harry that could poison your relationship. You love him so much, you’d hate it if you messed it up so bad that you end up losing him. It doesn’t matter how scary it is to bring it up, he is your partner and you trust him to treat your emotions and feelings right. Hopefully, he’ll tell you that there is nothing to worry about and Alana is not a threat, at least not to you.
Following your conversation with Diana you’re determined to talk it out with Harry and mentally note to bring it up as soon as possible.
Later in the afternoon you plan to meet up with Logan, but for a change you ask him if he is fine with coming to your place. You’re not quite in the mood to sit around in the library again, today has been way too exhausting to tolerate more people than what’s necessary. He has nothing against the idea so you wait for him at home, setting up your base at the kitchen island with all your notes and your laptop. You’re nearing the end of the phase of data analysis and you can’t wait to get your whole thesis done with already.
The doorman calls up to let you know that Logan is on his way up and you wait for him in the foyer. When he walks in, he stops and looks around with wide eyes, exactly the reaction you were expecting. Not many would think this is how a 22 years old girl lives in her last year of university, most of the people you’re friends with in school share a tiny apartment with more roommates than they probably should while you’re here, living in this luxurious penthouse that’s big enough to hold at least three families.
“Holy shit, Y/N. This is where you live?” he gapes, walking further into the place.
“Well, it’s not exactly my place, it’s my boyfriend’s, I just moved in with him,” you chuckle softly.
“Um, who exactly your boyfriend is?” he asks, following you into the kitchen. It’s not like you go around shouting at everyone that you’re dating Harry Styles, it simply never came up talking to Logan, you’re not hiding Harry.
“Harry Styles, I’m not sure if you’re familiar with—“
“Are you shitting me right now? You’re dating Harry Styles?”
“Yeah,” you chuckles, finding his shock pretty entertaining.
“I once saw the man at a conference, he looks intimidating as hell.”
“That’s just his tough act, he is a softie, I promise you,” you smile. “Alright, let’s get down to work, shall we?”
You easy into hard working mode pretty fast, making great progress with everything that’s left and you even get more done than what you expected. As a break, Logan shows you his work and what he has used your data for so far. It’s not an entirely different topic, but he is surely working on something you would have never thought of and it amazes you how your work fits into the picture. You start talking about school and then everything but school and while you heat up some leftover for the two of you, your thesis gets forgotten pretty soon as the two of you are just having a nice time together.
Harry got to leave the office a lot later than he intended. It’s been so hard to stop at the end of the day and today has been especially tiring so when he finally parks his car in the garage and heads up, all he can think about is to have a nice dinner with you, then make love to you, preferably either on the couch or in bed and then fall asleep with you in his arms.
He is surprised and not in the best way when he walks into his home and hears a male’s voice along with yours coming from the kitchen. His heart leaps upon hearing your bright laughter, but he is definitely not pleased that you’re not alone.
As he approaches the kitchen a broad back and dark haired head comes into his vision, sitting at the kitchen island with you next to him, two empty plates on the counter, your notes, books and laptop shoved to the side. Laughing at something your guest just said, your head is falling back as he is adding something else, but Harry can’t get himself to focus on what he is saying.
Then you see Harry standing there and though he catches the way your eyes light up, he would rather have you here on your own than with a guy who he assumes is Logan, the only guy that could get him to doubt himself.
“H! Hi! I didn’t hear you arriving!”
Hopping off the stool you stride over to him and pull him down for a kiss that softens him for a second, the touch of your lips working like magic on him, but then his eyes land on Logan again and the tension is back in his muscles.
“Hey baby. Didn’t know we were gonna have guests.”
“This is Logan. We were just working a bit.”
“I can… see that,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Mr. Styles, it’s so nice to meet you!” Logan smiles a tad bit nervously as he holds a hand out for him. “I’m Logan Wright.”
“Nice to meet you too,” he nods, giving his hand a firm shake. “I see you guys are having a break huh?” he nods towards the plates and though it’s not obvious, you can feel the slight spite in his tone.
“Yeah, we actually made great progress so decided to just put it aside,” you nod, examining his face with suspicion and you notice how he is avoiding to look at you, it’s making your stomach churn.
“Alright,” he nods. “I’ll be… in the study,” he sighs before turning around to walk out but you stop him.
“Aren’t you hungry? I can heat something for you or even cook something quickly?”
“I’m not hungry,” he answers shortly and with that, he is out of there.
You don’t like how this just went down, not even a bit and you have to get to the bottom of it before it eats you away with everything else you’ve been carrying with yourself.
“Logan, is it okay if we end this session here?” you turn to him with an apologetic look, feeling bad that you’re throwing him out.
“Don’t be silly, I was just about to say I better get going. It’s getting late and you must want to be with your man,” he smiles at you warmly, not even an ounce of anger in his tone.
“Thank you. I’ll text you about our next time, I think that might be our last one with everything we got done today.”
“Yeah, absolutely, we are so close to the end. Thank you for the dinner,” he nods, packing his stuff and swinging his backpack to his shoulder.
You walk him out and thank him for the work again before he leaves and you waste no time to go after Harry. At first it seems like the study’s door is closer, but getting closer you see that it’s open the slightest, almost like a tiny invitation for you to go in.
“Harry?” you call out softly as you push the door open slowly and poke your head in. Sitting at his massive desk he is turned around towards the window behind him, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city’s skyline. Hearing your arrival he turns around, his eyes flicker to you. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” you ask softly, taking a few more steps further into the room and then stopping.
“No, go back to Logan,” he answers and you catch the bitterness in his tone.
“He went home, it’s just the two of us.” You stride closer to the desk and stop right in front of it, folding your arms on your chest, feeling not too welcomed in the room right in this moment. “Something happened at work today?”
“I just had a tiring day.”
“How about a bath together? I can give you a massage, wash your hair…”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“Is it because of Logan? Maybe I should have texted you before bringing him here, I’m sorry—“
“It’s your home too, you can do whatever you want, Y/N. It’s fine.”
There are so many concerning thoughts swirling in your mind as you stare down at him while he is avoiding to look at you. It hurts, makes you feel like something is wrong with you, but you have no idea what it is.
Maybe what you’ve been fearing is now becoming reality. Maybe the point where you’re not enough for him has come.
“If there is anything you want to talk about, I’m here,” you manage to speak up, giving him the opportunity to be honest with you. The silence following your words however is painfully long before he speaks up.
“I know. I have to take care of a few things now,” he says and it’s a clear hint for you to get lost.
Swallowing your tears back you turn around and walk out of there as fast as possible.
Harry knows he has lost his rational side and he is being a dick, but he can’t help it. Walking into his home he shares with you and seeing you have a blast with another man just set his worst insecurities free inside his head and he has no idea how to deal with it.
He has never felt this way before.
Sending you away when all he wanted was to hold you in his arm was a mistake he made out of spite and jealousy and though he knows he is acting like a caveman, the thought of losing you is scaring him to death.
Especially these days when he’s been planning to do something major, something that he never thought he would ever do in his life.
Standing from his chair he walks over to the safe where he keeps some of his most important documents, some money in case of emergency and there is one more thing sitting there. Punching the code in which is the day the two of you met, the safe opens and his eyes land on the tiny, blue jewelry box that’s been hiding in there for months now.
He knew he wanted to marry you for a long time. Maybe not since day one, but he definitely didn’t need much time to fall for you harder than ever and it sparked the idea of marriage in him very early on. He bought the ring just days after your one year anniversary and he’s been trying to figure out the best way possible to propose.
But the more he’s been plotting, the more scared he is getting that you might not be feeling the same way. What if it’s all too fast to you or worse, you don’t plan to stay with him for the rest of your life like he does?
Seeing you with Logan today just strengthened his ridiculous fears for some reason. You seemed so carefree and happy around him, he can’t help but think how Logan might be a better match to you than he is.
He takes a look at the ring and tries to clear his head and control his emotions. There is so much he has to figure out, but he knows one thing for sure. He doesn’t want to lose you and the way he acted was unacceptable. Placing the box back into the safe he shuts it closed before taking a deep breath and heading out of the room to look for you.
As he nears the bedroom he hears your shaky breathing coming from inside and it shatters his heart.
“Baby?” he calls out, walking into the room and finding you sitting on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest, your forehead resting on them. Your head snaps up at his voice and you’re quick to wipe your cheeks, trying to hide the fact that you were crying, but it’s obvious.
Crossing the room he approaches the bed and sits beside you, unsure what to do at first, but then he places a hand to your knee and when you straighten your legs out, it moves up to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” he breathes out, while you chew on your trembling bottom lip.
“For what exactly?”
“For… being a dick. I didn’t mean to, I just… I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“But I told you that you can talk to me about anything! And instead of opening up to me you just…” You take a deep breath, swallowing down your tears again as you shake your head.
“I know, I’m sorry. I just came home and saw you laughing around with that guy and I lost my temper, okay?”
You blink at him, trying to comprehend his words, make it make sense how laughing with Logan pissed him off, because it just sounds way too absurd right now.
“What are you talking about?” you breathe out.
“I fucking hated seeing you with him,” he growls clenching his jaw.
“Seeing me with him? We were working on my thesis, Harry.”
“It didn’t look like that,” he answers right away, his anger and jealousy starting to bubble in his chest again. “I don’t like that he is around you.”
“I repeat, we are working on my thesis, he has helped me so much with my analysis, I would be nowhere without him. Why are you making it to be something it’s not?”
“How do I know it’s not?” he snaps suddenly, once again losing his temper and deep down he knows it’s not how he should be dealing with the situation, but right now he is seeing red. Jumping to his feet he starts pacing the room, his hands on his hips and his chest is heaving. “How do I know what’s happening during these study sessions?!”
“Harry, do you even hear yourself? This is fucking nonsense!” you snap back, taken aback by the accusation. “And if I’m being honest, very ridiculous coming from you,” you add scoffing. He stops and looks at you with his eyes practically on fire.
“And what does that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you being jealous of Logan is basically a joke when you’re working with Alana! She is fucking obsessed with you and I know for a fact she is trying to seduce you!”
“You’re just making this up to cover your mess right now. Alana would never do anything, Y/N, where is this even coming from?!” he raises his voice, but you are not gonna shut up this time. It’s not how you planned to bring the issue up, but you will not let him accuse you of cheating when he is the one working closely together with the woman who wants to fuck him.
“It’s coming from facts! I’ve heard her talking about it before and when I was at the office last time she was fucking sprawled out on your couch with her blouse unbuttoned, like an open invitation for you to fuck her!”
“What the hell are you talking about, no one is allowed in my office when I’m not there!”
“Don’t fucking lie to me! She said you invited her to use the couch! Don’t try to make me believe it’s all a lie!”
“But it is, you fucking made it up because you’re fucking your little study buddy!” he barks and his words are like punches in your stomach.
“You’re the only person I’m trying to fuck, but you’re always out there up in Alana’s ass, or should I call her Lana? Is that how you call her when you fuck her in your office? Just tell me!”
“I’m not fucking Alana! She is my business partner, what’s so hard to understand about that?”
“And what’s so hard to understand about me not fucking Logan and Alana wanting to hop on your fucking dick?” you scream back, louder than you’ve ever been in a fight. Tears are streaming down your face as you’re kneeling on the bed and he is standing at the end of it, the two of you staring at each other with heaving chests and red faces from the heated fight. You’ve had arguments before, but none of those were anything like this. Not even close.
“It’s so fucking typical, that you see a pretty woman and think that she is someone you have to compete with. But news flash, Alana did nothing wrong, she’s been nothing but professional. Can you say the same thing about your little friend?”
After the screaming and shouting he is now talking rather quietly, but it just makes his words even more sinister. And you’re done with explaining yourself for something you never did.
Without giving him an answer, you get up from the bed and rush into the wardrobe, grabbing one of your bigger handbags and start throwing everything you need for the next few days into it. Harry appears at the door and looks at you with bewildered and confused eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” you ask with a sniffle, pushing your way past him out of the wardrobe and into the bathroom.
“Where are you going?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“It is! Why are you leaving, Y/N?”
“Because I won’t just stay here and listen to your accusations when I did nothing wrong! And if you don’t fucking believe me about Alana, I’ll not fight against her just to be treated as a liar, Harry!” you snap back and something breaks in Harry.
“Wait, no! Please, don’t go, Y/N. I’m sorry, let’s just talk this out, just please don’t leave!”
He runs after you as you return to the wardrobe again, grabbing a hoodie and tugging it over your head, getting ready to leave.
“I need space, Harry,” you tell him when he tries to touch you but you jerk away. “I need to think things over.”
“Baby, just stay here, please. I’ll sleep in another room, I swear I won’t bother you, just please don’t leave!” he begs, but you still don’t stop. With the bag and a pair of boots you storm out with Harry following you right behind.
“How come you’re begging me now, but when I was telling you about an issue, you didn’t even take me seriously? You made me appear like a liar and a cheater, Harry. And I’m neither of those.” Dropping your boots in the foyer you start to pull them on, knowing well nothing can make you stay at this point.
“Y/N, I’m sorry for the way I reacted, I was a dick. I just don’t think that Alana would do anything to hurt you or me.”
“See, it doesn’t matter what you think. I, as your partner, told you about an issue and instead of believing me and treating it with care, you used it against me and accused me. And that’s exactly why I was afraid to tell you about it.”
Harry watches you get ready to leave and he is paralyzed, shattered to see you leave because he hurt you so badly you don’t even want to stay in the home you share with him.
“Where are you going?” he asks, his voice barely more than just a whisper. “Please, I won’t go after you, I just want to know you’ll be somewhere safe.”
“I’ll probably go to Cece’s.”
“And when are you coming back?”
“I don’t know, Harry. I need some… time to think. I think you need that too.”
He wants to protest, he wants to beg you to stay, but he knows he has to let you go now, however painful it is.
When you get into the elevator and turning around face him, your heart breaks seeing him so lost and broken as he just stands there and watches you leave.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes out just as the doors close.
Even though you call ahead Cece is shocked to see you at her place with your stuffed bag and red, puffy eyes, because of course, you cried through the whole way to her place in the taxi.
“Come on, I’ll make you a tea,” she urges, inviting you inside.
You don’t tell her what happened, you don’t want to talk about it even for a second. Luckily, Cece accepts your silence and lets you be. That night you cry yourself to sleep in your best friend’s guest bedroom, spending the night away from the man you love the most for the first time in so long and it slowly rips you apart.
Harry arrives to the office after getting zero sleep last night. How could he even rest his eyes without having you home? He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he did wrong, which is a lot, and it was easy for him to fall down the rabbit hole.
He fucked up. Big time. He shouldn’t have even brought up Logan, he’s got no idea why it triggered him so badly and why he couldn’t communicate his issues like the grown man he is supposed to be. He knows if he doesn’t figure out how to win you back, he’ll lose his whole world.
He is basically a zombie walking around his office all morning. Zoning out, missing phone calls, only thinking about you and if you truly hate him by now, not wanting to do anything with him.
He is so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t even hear the knock on his door, only snap back to reality when he sees Alana walking in. The sight of her brings back even more pain from last night and he needs to take a deep breath to keep himself collected.
“I sent you over the new versions of the Maxwell contracts, have you checked them out?” she asks, walking closer to his desk.
“Erm, no, sorry. I haven’t. I will do it now,” he clears his throat opening up his emails.
“Everything alright? You seem very… off,” Alana softly speaks, tilting her head to the side.
“I just… Y/N and I had a big fight last night, I’m just worried.” The news are like an angel’s song to Alana, a window thrown open just for her to climb in and never leave. Walking closer with a daring move she sits sideways onto his desk, but he is so distracted he doesn’t even notice how much she is showing from her thigh, his eyes glued to the screen, though he can barely comprehend anything he is reading.
“I’m so sorry, do you want to talk about it? I’m happy to listen,” she coos softly.
“I was just a dick to her. A complete asshole, I don’t blame her for hating me.”
“What happened?”
“This guy was there when I got home last night.”
“She cheated on you?” she gasps, assuming the worst right away, but Harry frowns shaking his head.
“No, of course not. I know she would never do it, he is just helping her with her thesis works. They did nothing, it wasn’t even a fishy situation, I just… lost my temper over seeing her with someone who is younger and probably a better fit for her. I started acting like a dick, even made her cry… I was horrible to her.”
“It sounds like you two are not really on the same page.”
“It was just a momentary slip. I love her, I want to be with her. I just have to figure out how to get her to forgive me,” he sighs leaning back in his seat. “I think I’m gonna take the day off, Lana. I can’t fucking focus on anything.”
“Why don’t you sleep on it a bit? It’s still so fresh, maybe you should think things through.” Alana is quick to try to change his mind, not wanting to let him run back to you this fast.
However Harry finally picks up on what might be happening. Looking up he realizes the way she is sitting on his desk and the sugarcoated meaning behind her words and all of a sudden, everything starts to make sense.
“You know what else came up last night? You.”
“Me?” she smiles innocently. “What about me?”
“She said you’ve been actively trying to seduce me. Do you know anything about that?”
“Come on, that is ridiculous, I would never do that,” she laughs, but Harry doesn’t find the situation that funny.
“Have you been in my office when I wasn’t here?”
“What?” she asks, her mouth going dry. “Everyone knows no one is allowed in here but Y/N when you’re not here. I would never break your rules.”
“Then why did she tell me you were lying on my couch when I was at a meeting the other day?”
“That’s ridiculous, I’m pretty sure she made that up, I haven’t even seen her in a while,” she scoffs, but Harry sees through him, finally.
Pushing himself back from his desk he stands up and heads towards the door. Alana jumps to her feet, panic rising in her guts.
“What are you doing? Do you not believe me?”
Harry walks out of the office without bothering to answer her, heading straight to Daisy’s desk. The assistant’s head snaps up right away and she squares her shoulders upon seeing her boss standing in front of her.
“Daisy, has Alana been in my office when I wasn’t here?” he asks, panic washing over the young girl as her eyes switch to Alana’s form standing not too far away, a ruthless look on her face.
“I, uhh—“
“Daisy, look at me,” Harry tells her and the girl obeys. “You’re not in trouble, just tell me the truth. Has she been in my office before when I wasn’t here?”
Daisy hesitates, but nods at last.
“She… She heard me on the phone with Y/N the other day, she knew she was coming in and she just walked in. I tried to tell her she can’t be in there, but she said you said it was fine. I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles, I—“
“Don’t worry, Daisy. Clear my schedule for the rest of the day, will you?”
“Of course,” the assistant nods eagerly, getting down to work right away as Harry heads back into his office.
“Harry, come on! Do you really believe her? Daisy has hated my guts since day one!” Alana tries, following Harry as he gets back to his desk, the lack of emotions on his face is alarmingly upsetting.
“Daisy has been working here for years and I trust her with everything. Unlike you. Now, I want you to pack your stuff, you’re done.”
“Done?” she gasps with a surprised chuckle. “What do you mean done?”
“That you’re no longer working here. We’ll arrange the paperwork and have you come in to sign your resignation.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“I’m very serious.”
“Even if this crazy story was true, how does that affect my job here?” she scoffs, folding her arms on her chest.
“I will not work with someone who I can’t trust, who tries to hurt me and my loved ones. Your character does not fit into the picture we are building around here.”
“For fuck’s sake! Are you really throwing me out because your whiny little girlfriend is insecure?” she gapes at him, definitely not able to control her emotions like Harry can. “It’s nonsense, you can’t be that into her!”
In the meantime, Harry is packing his stuff up without a bother, getting ready to leave as soon as possible so he can beg for you to forgive him, that’s all that matters right now.
“Harry, stop, let’s talk this out!” she begs, quickly dropping the confident act and trying everything she can to save herself.
“Leave,” he simply tells her, grabbing his phone and briefcase.
“Harry, I just—“
“Leave!” he barks. “I don’t want to see you again. And if you come near me or my girlfriend again, I will get a fucking restraining order against you. It’s not just an empty threat.”
Alana is frozen and devastated, just stares after Harry as he walks out of the room without another word. It’s over for her. She lost.
She lost against you. Not that she ever stood a chance.
You didn’t expect to have another study session so soon with Logan, but he said he wouldn’t make any other days work in the next two weeks so you have to finish your work today. Though you wanted nothing more than to go back to Cece’s place after your classes and just sleep the pain away, you agreed to meet up with Logan.
The night was a total disaster, you barely had just a few hours of sleep and even when you managed to rest, you kept having nightmares of Harry and Alana, walking in on them in a situation you wish to never witness. It still feels surreal, how you parted ways with Harry last night. Everything happened so fast and you felt betrayed by the man you’d do anything for. The way he couldn’t take you seriously about Alana and just kept accusing you felt like a knife was stabbed into your chest with every word that left his mouth.
And the worst part is that you still love him.
You still have no idea what to do, leaving him would destroy you, but staying with him right now feels just as painful.
You’re on your way to the library when your phone starts ringing, it’s Logan.
“Hey, I’m almost there,” you say answering the call.
“Change of plans. Can you meet me in room B23?”
You stop in your tracks, already in front of the library, but you turn around and make your way towards building B.
“Okay, but what happened?”
“Oh, I just, I had class there and asked the professor if we could use the room, thought it would be a bit better. You know where it is?”
“Sure,” you huff. You know that room pretty well, it’s where you had your class with Professor Robertson, the one where you met Harry. You can never pass the room without thinking back at that day and though most of the time it warms your chest, now you have bittersweet feelings about it.
Building B is close to the library, so you’re still on the phone with Logan when you’re nearing the room.
“Are you almost here?” he asks over the phone.
“Yeah, just a minute and I’m there. What’s up? You sound so exciting,” you hum.
“I just can’t wait to finish with the work, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess. Okay, I’m walking in now, see you in a sec,” you chuckle, ending the call. Slipping your phone into your bag, you let out a long sigh and push the door open, expecting Logan to be in there, but you freeze when someone else welcomes you.
“Hi,” Harry breathes out, standing by the teacher’s desk.
“Harry, what are you… Where’s Logan?” you ask, looking around, but it’s just the two of you.
“He is not coming. I asked him to help me a little to get you to come here.”
“What?” you huff, not entirely sure what this is about.
“I knew you probably wouldn’t come here if I asked you, so I’m sorry for playing you, but I just had to talk to you.”
You don’t reply, mostly because you have no idea what to say, so you just keep standing there and he uses the opportunity to tell you what he wants.
“Y/N, I am so sorry for yesterday. I lost my head completely when I saw you with Logan and couldn’t control my emotions. I know it’s not an excuse for the way I acted, but I really am sorry.”
“I just don’t know what was so upsetting about it!” you sigh, folding your arms on your chest.
“It’s nothing you did. It was… I got scared. I saw you with a guy who is your age and smart and he made you laugh and I got scared that one day you might realize that I’m not what you want.”
“Harry,” you deflate, especially seeing the hurt in his eyes. There’s no question he is telling you the truth.
“I know, but I’ve been fighting this feeling for a while. I’m always worried that I’m not the right person for you and I let my insecurities take over me. And the whole Alana thing? You were right.”
“What? Did she do something?” you ask in panic.
“She just tried to turn me against you this morning, but I could finally see clearly. Daisy told me that she really was in my office, just like you said. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, I was just… I was too hung up on my issues that I couldn’t see the whole picture.”
“You really didn’t notice anything on her?”
“I didn’t,” he chuckles bitterly. “But only because I’m so fucking in love with you that I see no one else when I have you.”
“You’re so sappy,” you say, the tiniest smile finally tugging on your lips and Harry finally dares to walk closer to you.
“I am and an idiot and such an asshole. I’ve been just so scared that you’d end up breaking my heart, I wasn’t thinking.”
When he is finally standing in front of you, with a moment of hesitation he reaches up to your face at last and cups your cheeks in his palms. His heart leaps out of his chest when you lean into his touch.
“I’ve been scared too,” you speak up quietly.
“About what?”
“The same thing,” you admit truthfully. “That you realize that I’m just a stupid little girl.”
“Oh baby. You’re everything to me,” he breathes out, kissing your forehead. “You’re my good girl,” he smirks. “No, you are my best girl.”
“Stop,” you chuckle even though tears are dwelling in your eyes.
“But it’s the truth. I could never be with anyone else, you’re everything I need and want… God, we’ve been so stupid.”
“Yeah, very stupid,” you chuckle through your tears as your arms wrap around his waist and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. He holds you tight for a bit before pulling back, way too soon for your liking and you’re just about to complain, but he is the first one to speak up.
“And that’s why we need something better to remember this time for.” Before you could ask what he meant by that, he lets go of you and taking just a tiny step backwards, you watch him get down on one knee and you almost faint.
“Harry!” you gasp, seeing him pull out a little jewelry box as he looks up at you with tears shimmering in his eyes while you’re full on crying already.
“Y/N, the moment I saw you in this exact room I was blown away by you. I couldn’t take my eyes off you and I knew I needed to see you again. Thank god that idiot Nick gave me the chance to talk to you, that’s the best thing he has ever done in his life,” he chuckles and you laugh with him through your tears. “I fell for you fast, though we messed it up a bit back then too, both of us so stubborn to just speak up about our feelings, but I’ve been the happiest since then, getting to share my life with you, coming home to you, it’s been my absolute favorite thing and I know that I want to have it for the rest of my life.” He pops the lid of the tiny box open and you gasp seeing the massive diamond ring inside. “These past few days just made me realize even more that you’re everything I need and want in life. So… Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”
You’re in shock, you made up just moments ago after your worst fight ever and now he is proposing to you. It’s more than what you can process in such a short time.
“Are you asking me to just make up for the fight?” you ask with trembling lips. “Because I really want to marry, but I don’t want you to feel pressured, I forgive you without the ring,” you add as tears keep rolling down your cheeks.
“Baby, I’ve had this ring for months,” he chuckles, finding it cute how you’re making an excuse. “I was already planning to propose, but I couldn’t find the right moment.”
“So, you mean it? You really want to marry me?” you breathe out, most likely looking like a mess, but Harry still thinks you’re the prettiest thing on earth.
“I would be crazy not to,” he smirks. “So, what do you say?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, I want to marry you!” you cry out, throwing yourself into his arms, sobbing and gasping, a complete emotional mess, but happier than you’ve ever been. When you pull back and kiss him, your lips are wet from your lips and you can barely breathe, but you just need to feel him and taste him.
“Let me put the ring on,” he chuckles against your lips, the two of you are kneeling on the floor, but you couldn’t care less. Harry takes the ring out of the box and you watch as he puts it onto your finger with so much care before kissing it lovingly. You throw yourself at him again, just hugging each other in silence, bathing in the joyous moment that’s the first one of the rest of your lives.
“I love you,” you mumble against his neck, still in shock that all of this just happened.
“I love you too. My beautiful, good girl,” he hums, kissing the side of your face over and over again as he keeps you tight in his arms, never planning to let go of you.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles au#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#sugardaddy!harry#CEO!harry#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff
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.........and so here we are *sighs*
i was hanging on hope that the ‘feet gate’ isn’t real from simple reason - i just think that alicent had enough. look, i get it, it’s meme worthy, funny haha joke, but is it? we are talking here about woman, that is by the majority of the fandom, considered a villain. the same character that was as a teenager pushed into the bed of much older man by her own father. the same character that was living “the joys of marital r*pe’ for over 10 years. the same woman that was turned into baby making machine in a gilded cage. the same woman that took care of her rotting husband until the very end. the same woman who is constantly told by more fortunate characters that she isn’t doing enough - that she is a bad woman, a bad mother, a bad daughter, a bad wife.
so tell me, who thought that making this character being blackmailed into sexual favors is a good idea? kinks aside okay. she can’t say no to larys and saying that she can because she is the queen is deep misunderstanding how coercion works. he came into her room uninvited. she didn’t fight, she didn’t scream, she didn’t cry. she just sat there and waited when he finishes. no, that’s not mutual enjoyment of a kink. yes, she is a queen and higher than he is on social ladder but this is a man who has dirt on her, who has dirt on her family and who murdered his brother and father for nothing but power and then tolf her, he did it for her. tell this man no. seriously though. imagine telling this man no. yeah, that’s what i thought.
i think alicent had been through enough. why is she put through all this garbage is a mystery to me. actually, no, that’a a lie, it’s not mystery, it’s pretty clear - she is the villain. villains deserve what they got right? and so now we circle back, it’s a funny meme worthy scene because she ‘is a bad woman’ and he is ‘weak stalker’ and i’m sick of it. for a show that is so trying to be progressive (that’s a joke for another time) this was one of the most misogynistic regressive pointless scenes i have seen so far. alicent wasn’t empowered. she didn’t like it. it didn’t do anything for the story. this scene exists solely for the purpose to be shocking. the creators of ‘house of the dragon’ claim they have learned from ‘game of thrones’ mistakes - they learned nothing and i’m tired.
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hi!! i was just wondering if i could request more yelena where yelena introduces her gf to natasha and her family and she’s uncharacteristically nervous so nat finds it amusing? thank you :)
a bit of minor surgery
summary: Yelena tries to keep you to herself but her family has other ideas word count: 1.7K notes: so this is a little different to what you asked for but i hope you still like it! for the sake of this, nat, yelena, alexei and melina are just one happy family
“But if we –"
Natasha holds up a hand and Yelena stops talking. “Do you hear that?”
It’s faint but there’s the sound of someone moving around on her apartment floor. Being the only person who lives on this floor and one of the few in this building is enough for this to raise the hairs on the back of her neck.
Survival for them has always meant constant vigilance.
Both of their heads swivel towards the front door as the footsteps become louder, very clearly approaching her apartment.
Yelena doesn’t have to look to know Natasha is mirroring her, pulling out her gun and scanning every entry-way for possible intruders.
On edge, Yelena presses herself against the door, readying herself until she listens properly and realises the approaching footsteps sound familiar.
Somehow, she feels herself relax and become even more tense at the same time.
“Stop,” she says as Natasha moves towards the door as well, holding an arm out to stop her. “It’s okay. I know who it is.”
At her words Natasha relaxes, putting her gun away but she watches her face carefully as she does so.
The panic Yelena can feel building inside her must not be as well hidden as she thought because a slow grin spreads across her face as the sound of a gentle knock echoes through Yelena’s apartment.
“Is it..?”
“Yes,” Yelena replies curtly. “And no. You can’t meet them.”
Natasha gives her a wicked look, clicking her teeth together teasingly. “What? Scared I’ll…eat them?”
She snickers as Yelena reaches out and shoves her hard enough to knock the air out of her while also giving her a firm and clear: im going to kill you if you don't listen to me look as she goes to open the door.
Not that it's ever stopped Natasha before.
“Just stay there,” Yelena hisses and then wrenches the door open, finding you behind it with your hand still mid-air, prepared to knock a second time.
“Y/N!”
“Hi,” you say, looking a little startled but smiling at her none the less as you drop your hand.
Beside her and thankfully, just out of your view, Natasha, to her credit, is silent but Yelena can feel her gaze glued to her face and can especially feel the amusement radiating off her in waves.
She grits her teeth, forcing a smile. Your own fades a little as you take her in. “Is this a bad time?”
“No,” Yelena says quickly. Still out of sight, Natasha lets out a huff of laughter just quiet enough that she hopes she’s the only one that hears her.
“Not at all,” she adds, and since the door covers most of her body, it’s safe for her to reach out and pinch Natasha on the arm. Which is what she does. Hard. “Just --give me a second?”
Clearly still puzzled, you nod and Yelena closes the door, giving you a smile that she has a feeling looks more like a grimace.
Next she grabs Natasha by the arm and starts walking her forcibly towards the window. “Out.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow as she pulls them to an abrupt stop, looking at her then looking out the window. “You seriously want me to scale ten stories because you’re an idiot?”
As an answer, Yelena unlocks the latch and lets the window sweep open, giving her a pointed look that says: Yes. Obviously.
Natasha rolls her eyes but to Yelena’s relief, she slides out the window.
“неудачник,” is all she says in parting before she disappears, dropping down the stairwell and vanishing from sight completely.
The word lingers in the air after her: Loser.
Yelena scowls after her for a second before she rushes back to the door and opens it, letting out a sigh of relief when she sees you’re still there, standing in the same spot.
“Sorry,” she apologises, swinging the door open. “There was just a uh, complication....a spider. I caught it and put it outside. I know you hate them.”
As she speaks, you slowly raise one eyebrow at her. The other quickly follows and it's then that she notices the narrowed look in your eyes.
When you start speaking, your voice is low and scarily calm. “So it has nothing to do with the woman I just made eye contact with as she was climbing down your fire escape?”
Something Yelena is proud to say is that in her life there have been very few times she’s been at a loss for words.
This however is one of them.
She stares at you, blankly, knowing her panic must be showing on her face by the way your expression progressively becomes darker and darker as seconds pass and she fumbles frantically for something to say.
“I, uh, she is, she, uh –”
“—Natasha Romanoff. Nice to meet you.”
To her credit, Natasha has always been the stealthier of the two of them. Ignoring that fact, Yelena chooses to believe that her being distracted by you is why she doesn’t hear her coming back up the stairwell.
She also chooses to believe that she didn’t visibly jump at the sound of her voice and that the cough Natasha lets out is genuine and not covering up a laugh that says she’s going to mock her mercilessly for this entire thing later.
Of course, Yelena can’t fool herself but she tries anyway.
You look even more unimpressed as Natasha comes to a stop beside her and it clicks in Yelena’s head that you think her and Natasha – her and Natasha. She can’t even finish the thought.
As funny as it is, she doesn’t let herself laugh, knowing instinctively that it’s not a good idea. The flinty look in your eyes just confirms how much of a not good idea that is.
Just because you weren’t raised like her doesn’t mean that you couldn’t pack a punch; something she learned early on in your relationship when she’d accidentally snuck up on you once. She’d had a black eye for weeks after that.
“Natasha is my --” she isn’t sure how to say: ‘this is the woman I was trained to kill people with while we grew up being tortured and experimented on, remember I told you?’ In a way that won’t make you go running for the hills.
As she trails off, Natasha, sensing her panic, jumps in. Yelena knows that internally, she must be laughing hysterically though to her merit, she keeps it to herself. “I’m her… sister. Of sorts.”
You know about her past – all of what she was willing to repeat of it anyway – so comprehension quickly dawns on your face.
“Then why…?”
She watches as Natasha’s mouth twitches, sounding amused as she directly addresses you: “Well... my sister is an idiot. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
Yelena tenses as you give her a once over, raking your eyes over her consideringly, before you turn back to Natasha. “I may have noticed that. Yes.”
"Hey," Yelena protests, weakly. "That's not fair."
You give her a pointed look and she falls silent. Resigned to her fate, she lets out a sigh.
She can tell from the matching scheming looks brewing in both your own and Natasha’s eyes that this is only going to be the start of her own personal torment.
--
The one thing she really, really hates about her family is that they have this habit of showing up unannounced – you’d think that the whole being assassins and consequently, a little trigger happy as a result would make someone call ahead but no.
Never.
For this reason, it comes as no surprise when there’s the familiar three tap repetitive secret knock knock knock they had all come up with years ago on her front door early the following morning.
Silently, Yelena prays you don’t hear it and stay asleep as she drags herself out of bed and prepares herself for what she’s about to deal with.
Truthfully, she’s a little surprised that they’d had enough tact to wait until morning. She’d half expected them to be knocking her door down the second Natasha relayed last nights events to them.
Yanking the door open, she comes face-to-face with Alexei and Melina. Taking them both in and cataloguing mentally that they look alive and uninjured, she lets herself glare at both of them.
“Is something wrong?”
They both frown. “No?”
“Okay I’m closing the door then.”
She starts to swing it shut but it’s quickly caught as Alexei shoves a foot in between it and the doorframe, giving her a reproachful look.
“Is your –”
“Yes,” Yelena interrupts, scowling harder than before, if that was even possible. “Now, leave.”
The look on Alexei’s face shifts, now suddenly a little too much on the wrong side of sneaky. “Can we—”
“No.”
“But–"
“I don’t care. You can’t meet them,” she barks, probably too loudly, as she shoves him back out into the hallway. If she has to throw them bodily out of here, she will. It just would likely attract your attention, which is the opposite of what she wants. “They’re asleep.”
“We can wake them,” he suggests, unhelpfully.
Yelena glares at him harder. “No.”
It’s faint but all of a sudden, she can hear the sound of a door squeaking as it opens. Her bedroom door to be more exact. Your voice calling out to her quickly follows.
“Okay,” she says. “I’m closing the door now.”
“Hey, no wait –” Alexei starts to protest. Yelena closes the door firmly in their faces and is working on dead-bolting it just as you appear in her line of sight.
You blink at her blearily, wearing just one of her T-shirts and nothing else. Thank god she hadn’t let them in. “Who was that?”
“Neighbours,” Yelena lies. “Looking for their …cat.”
Still half asleep, you don’t think to question her and she sags against the door in relief as you venture into the kitchen in search of coffee.
To her relief, there are no subsequent persistent knocks or calls through the door and after a second, she can hear the quiet sound of footsteps and Alexei’s grumbling as they retreat.
Natasha is one thing – their parents or pseudo-parents or whatever they are – are another thing entirely. She’d save that one for another day.
Or never, preferably.
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Father of Mine – 2/2
Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader
Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.
Word Count: 4,100+
Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death
A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.
Part 1
Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.
“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”
Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.
“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.
“Right,” Bruce sighed.
“She’s waiting for you in your office.”
Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.
“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.
She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”
He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”
Bruce opened his mouth.
“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.
Bruce closed his mouth.
“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”
He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”
Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.
“I was only trying to help.”
“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”
Bruce tensed.
Did that mean…Did she know?
“You read the letter?” He asked.
“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”
“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.
“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.
“You have ever right to be angry with me…”
“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”
She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.
The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce.
How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear?
But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.
“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.
Bruce didn’t respond.
“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”
Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.
“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”
“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”
When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.
Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.
She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.
And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.
After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”
Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.
“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”
Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.
After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it.
But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.
“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.
Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.
So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.
——————
Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.
But he was on his best behavior tonight.
This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.
Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.
He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.
That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.
Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair.
He made his way over.
Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.
“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”
But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.
Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.
None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”
Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want?
So he hesitated.
“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.
She was a shockingly smooth liar.
Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.
But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.
“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.
“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”
Y/N managed to force a smile.
“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered.
“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled.
Both men caught it.
Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.
The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.
As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.
“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.
But Bruce only clenched his jaw.
“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.
“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.
Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did.
Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.
“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.
“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”
Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.”
Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?
“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.
“Happy for her?”
Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”
How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.
“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.
“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.
“You alright?”
Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.
But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different.
Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.
Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.
But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.
Was he really that scared of his own daughter?
His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.
He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.
Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.
Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.
He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.
“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.
Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”
“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.
Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.
Her jaw was clenched.
He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.
Y/N really did remind him of her mother.
When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.
“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.
“Thank you,” she answered shortly.
A beat passed between them.
Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.
“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”
Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long.
“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”
Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.
But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.
He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”
But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.
“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”
There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.
Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.
Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.
“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.
“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.
“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.
“Doubt it.”
“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”
Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.
But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.
—————
A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.
It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?
Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.
Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?
The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.
Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.
Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.
While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman.
But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.
Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better.
Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.
Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.
They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.
The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.
“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.
“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.
Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.
“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”
“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.
“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”
Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.
“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.
“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.
“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.
—
Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.
As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.
“Lois!” Clark yelled.
People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.
Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.
“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.
“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”
“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”
“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”
Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.
“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”
Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.
Y/N was unconscious in his arms.
“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.
“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”
But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”
Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”
Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.
Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.
“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.
Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.
“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.
Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”
As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later.
Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help.
Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.
“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”
Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.
——————
Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.
“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”
She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.
“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.
Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.
Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.
Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois.
Y/N took in the sight before her.
“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.
Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.
“Clark?” She gasped.
He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.
“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.
Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”
Y/N gave a slight nod.
But now her attention switched to Bruce.
The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.
She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.
They were in a cave.
“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.
“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.
Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.
How was this possible?
Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.
The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.
“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.
Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out.
Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.
He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.
Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.
Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.
“How are you feeling?”
She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”
“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”
Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.
“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.
An awkward silence settled between them.
“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.
Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”
She was silent.
“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”
His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.
He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.
“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”
He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”
“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.
In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.
Bruce shook his head.
“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.
He gave her a small small, “I know.”
Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong.
He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.
“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.
But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.
“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed.
Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?
Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.
“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.
Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”
“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”
“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.
Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.
“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”
“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.
It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.
“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.
“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.
There.
That laugh.
It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.
“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.
Her face dropped at his confession.
���Really?”
He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”
Bruce saw his much his words effected her.
Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.
“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.
“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”
She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”
“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.
“The rest of them?”
He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”
“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.
Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.
“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”
--------------------
Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3
BONUS: This Game of Ours
#father of mine#father of mine part 2#bruce wayne reader insert#bruce wayne x daughter#bruce wayne x daughter!reader#batman x daughter#batman x daughter!reader#batboys#batfam#bruce wayne angst#bruce wayne fic#batman fic#batman universe#batman family
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Curiosity Killed The Cat
request: request. i’m not sure if you’re comfortable with writing it but it’s worth a try the team is always teasing spencer saying “he’s definitely a virgin” and he’s like “wtf no i’m not” one day they’re like ok well then y/n can see for herself, y/n is like “😳i didn’t sign up for this” and long story short they come back to the bau and the team is like “ ok soooo?” and y/n is like zoning out mumbling “you were wrong”
Warnings: SMUT (Penetration, oral (female recieving), spanking, over-stimulation, choking, degrading kink)
A/N: YO SHIT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, I am going to start publishing fics again, but updates will be very very slow. They’ll increase eventually, but for now, they are slow. Love you all!
The night began at work. A late night with the team at the office, stacks of files mounted on all of your desks and you’re all gathered around to keep each other awake.
“Ugh. This is too much work. Seriously. Can’t killers ever take a break?”
You whine, spinning in the swivel chair and holding a file in the air. Morgan chuckles, staring at his own file before speaking.
“I need a drink after this.”
“You and me both Morgs.”
“I told you to stop calling me that Girly.”
You chuckle, stopping your spinning and standing up to stretch. It feels nearly impossible to stay awake. Not necessarily because you’re tired, but you’ve been staring at similar files all day and it’s getting boring and tiring.
“I’ll do refills on coffee. Gimme your mugs.”
You say, letting them pile different sizes of cups and mugs in your arms. You saunter over to the coffee machine and set them on the counter.
You set the pot for a lot of coffee and quickly dash to Hotch’s office, where him and Rossi are.
“Yo, I’m making coffee, y’all need refills?”
They shake their heads and you shrug, returning to the coffee machine and pouring the coffee in the mugs before adding cream and sugar.
“How much sugar tonight Reid?”
You ask, turning to the tall doctor with a smirk. Luckily, you and your team are the only people left in the bullpen so you can be as loud as you want.
“A lot.”
You snort, grabbing the box of sugar and piling it in, almost emptying it before putting it on the shelf and making a few trips to distribute the coffee.
“Here you are Spencer, sugar with some coffee on the side.”
You chuckle, sitting in your chair again and picking a new file up, only to find that this was the last file.
“Oh. Anyone else wanna give me files? I’m on my last one.”
Morgan and Emily immediately run up to you with files, dropping them on your desk and thanking you. It made you laugh, watching smiles grown on their faces.
“Okay team. We’re almost finished. Just a little bit more now.”
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(SEXUAL THEMES BEYOND THIS POINT)
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A few hours later you, Spencer, Rossi, and Hotch are finished with your stacks, waiting for the other three with Penelope, discussing bars to go to.
“Oooo there’s a new one downtown, we should go there.”
“Can you guys hold back your alcohol talk until tonight please? I just wanna get out of here fast and maybe get lucky tonight.”
Emily pleads, making you and the other women go “oooo” while the men groan.
“Oh boy you are right Em. I haven’t gotten laid in so long. Too long.”
You say, leaning back in your chair and looking at a flabbergasted Penelope.
“How long?”
She asks, staring at you in disbelief. You were a very beautiful woman (Don’t you fucking dare say otherwise) so people often assumed you had sex often. You weren’t private about it either. So what if people judged you? Sex is natural and anyone who says otherwise is selling something.
“Since my first time in middle school. I had a delusion that sex was gonna be this amazing thing and then it was actually terrible. I gave up all hope and never slept with anyone ever again. So you know, it is what it is.”
Everyone looked at you in shock, confused as to how you went your whole life without sex.
“Wait really?”
Morgan questions, his attention dropping from the files to you in an instant. Spencer simply stared at you in disbelief, his expression suddenly making you nervous.
“Y-yeah. I haven't had sex since middle school. It isn’t a big deal.”
You defend, but Penelope wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.
“Oh honey I’m definitely finding you someone to take home.”
“Hey, at least you had your first time, unlike pretty boy over here.”
Morgan teases, messing with Spencer’s hair. Spencer was often teased for being a virgin, but none of you knew what to believe. He said he wasn’t, but refused to tell even Morgan about any of his times.
“How many times do I have to tell you guys, I’m not a virgin!”
“Then tell us about one time.”
Morgan says, a wide smirk on his face at the disheveled state of the genius doctor. Poor Reid just wanted to be left alone but Morgan will not let this go.
“Morgan. Not all of us are public about our sex lives like you bud. Sometimes I wish you were as secretive as Reid. None of us want to hear about how you “got it on”.”
Morgan grimaces, and Spencer looks to you thankfully.
“C’mon Y/N, you aren’t even a little curious?”
Emily asks from her desk, finally finishing up the last file with JJ. You shrug, playing with your hair briefly.
“Of course I’m super curious, but, unlike you lust goblins, I stand with Hotch and Rossi and don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”
Various groans come from the team as you fist-bump Hotch and Rossi, laughing at their defeat.
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When Morgan finally finishes, you all head to the new bar downtown, smiling at the flashing lights of the dance floor and immediately going to a small table with the rest of the team.
“Oh hells yes! This place is already fun!”
Penelope squeals, waving a worker over to get food. Morgan sits next to you, Emily on your other side and Spencer is next to Morgan and Hotch.
“Alright my baby’s we are partying until Y/N gets lucky!”
You chuckle at Penelope’s words, raising a glass of water to your lips and taking a big swig of it before looking around. The people in there were definitely attractive, but your mind never swayed from a certain genius.
You meant it when you said you were curious, your mind had always wandered to certain images when you went to sleep, constantly imagining what he would be like.
You’re mind was so easily destroyed by him. All of your thoughts contorted by him. To the point where you can’t imagine sleeping with any of these other people, but you’re scared to ruin your friendship with him by trying to sleep with him.
“Ah guys. I’m fine. I don’t want to sleep with someone I don’t know.”
Morgan groans, nudging your side and making you laugh.
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A few hours later, Spencer has abandoned ship and went to the bathroom, leaving you alone with the rest of the team as you eat some wings.
“Oh my god I know how to figure out if Reid’s a virgin or not!”
Penelope shouts, you look at her excited face, just smirking as she squeals.
“And what is your plan?”
“One of us hooks up with him!”
You all choke on your food and drinks, staring at her in shock.
“I’m sorry what? Did you just say-”
“Actually that’s not a bad idea.”
Hotch cuts you off. You turn to his smirking face in shock. Never in a million years would you have thought that Aaron Hotchner thought one of you sleeping with Reid is a good idea.
“Hotch! Wouldn’t that like, mess with work or something?”
He shrugs, turning to you and smirking.
“What can I say? I’m curious too.”
You sigh, chuckling a bit and shaking your head.
“I say Y/N does it.”
“What?”
“Yeah! Y/N is single and hasn’t gotten laid in a while, it’s perfect!”
“Guys no I-”
“Oh my god you’re right! Plus there’s plenty of sexual tension between the two of them.”
You sigh, knowing they won’t let up until this happens. When the team wants something, they make it happen.
“Okay guys, I didn’t sign up for this, I’m not your test dummy.”
You say, putting your wings down on the plate in front of you and looking around at them all.
“Please girly? Pretty please?”
Morgan begs, clutching your hand tightly and shaking it up and down like a child who wants a toy.
“Y/N, I will make sure you get a raise in your paycheck.”
You stop and think about it for a second.
It could ruin your relationship with him forever, then again, he’s the type to forgive and forget when it comes to his friends.
And if it did work out, then things could be awkward between the two of you for a long time, or worse, he’d regret it. And like all the things he regrets, he’d ignore you until you disappeared.
And the worst you can think of, you take his virginity. Not someone he loves, not his girlfriend or wife, you. His bestfriend and co-worker.
But still, just that small percentage that everything might go completely right and you might even get a second time with him makes it feels like it might be worth it.
“Okay fine. But I don’t want a raise. If I’m doing this it’s because I want to.”
They all cheer and you just smile, taking a swig of beer before motioning for Morgan to switch seats with you so that when Spencer comes back he’ll be next to you.
Within a few minutes Spencer returns and you feel a heat travel up your neck as you look at him. He turned to you and smiled, sending shivers up your spine as you smiled back.
“Why’d you switch places?”
He asks, you turn to Morgan for help, pleading him to come up with a fake story.
“Emily kept poking her so she told me to switch.”
He says, you practically glare daggers at him, but you go with it, turning back to Spencer and nodding with a smile.
“Yep, so now, you are stuck with me.”
You joke, trying to ease the dusty pink on your cheeks, and nudge him gently in the arm.
In a few minutes you muster up the courage to let your hand travel off of the counter and onto Spencer’s thigh, feeling your entire face go crimson at the feeling of the hard muscle.
He choked on his water briefly before looking at you, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your red face. You were trying to hide any emotion you felt out of embarrassment.
He didn’t say anything though, you’re hand felt warm against the cool breeze of the bar, and he wasn’t opposed to your touch whatsoever.
Everyone continued talking and laughing as your hand inched upwards, and you could feel his body tense up every once in a while, and every time he did, you paused, giving him a moment to push your hand away or tell you to stop, but he didn’t. Not even when you began massaging and squeezing the muscle in your hands.
In fact, he at some point grabbed your hand and positioned it right above his own cock. You weren’t touching it yet, just hovering in slight fear.
He wants this.
You thought before slowly lowering your hand, your eyes widening at the feeling of his semi hard and fairly large cock. What the hell were you getting yourself into?
You glance at him quickly, only to find him staring straight back at you with lust lidded eyes. They were intimidating, almost scary. Usually you would have hated to be on the receiving end of this glare, but in this context, it made you feel like a match had been lit inside of you and you were just left there with a lit match inside of you.
The moment you squeezed your hands just slightly, he abruptly stood up, your hand falling from his crotch. Everyone looks at him in shock as he yanks you up.
“I need to talk to you.”
Is all he says before dragging you away. You only had a split second to turn and see the teams faces, but they were all pretty much the same.
A shit eating smile with wiggling eyebrows.
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From the moment you were yanked into the private room with Spencer, you were super nervous. It had been years, you were inexperienced. What if he didn’t like it? What if he left because you were bad at it?
He seemed to notice your panicked state and sat you down on the bed, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his.
“Hey, we don’t have to do this. As much as I would love to prove to you that I really am not a virgin, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But if you say yes, I will pillage your body to the point that you can’t walk next week.”
Well shit, now you were fully convinced and super turned on. You had thought he was vanilla, or maybe even a bottom, but oh wow you were so wrong.
“Do it.”
Those were the only two words needed for Spencer Reid to pounce, and your plane of vision was knocked over, now laying on your back as he traps you under his body.
His lips are everywhere. They’re on yours at first, but they travel to your jaw, your neck, and his lengthy fingers work at the buttons on your dress shirt rapidly.
“Shit Spencer...”
You whine out as he works his hands across your body. They feel like fire against your skin. His lips are wet and messy, kissing and marking your neck for the world to see.
You grip his shirt, tugging at it and opening your mouth to speak, but a moan slips out instead. You shut your eyes in embarrassment as you feel his lips curl upwards on your collarbone, the suckling feeling feeling so warm and tingly.
“What is it baby? You want me to take my shirt off? huh?”
You nod eagerly, chest rising and falling quickly as he raises his body off of yours, and you open your heavy eyes to see him strip off his shirt. He isn’t muscly, but he’s perfect, he looks perfect.
“What do you want baby?”
You stumble over your words, your mind already fuzzy somehow by just his lips.
“You. I want you. Please Spencer I want you.”
You beg, your hands travelling up his torso and feeling his soft skin. He leans down again, towering over you and smashing his lips on your while his hands work on getting your pants off.
His lips were safe, careful. Not aggressive, and his tongue that tasted the inside of your mouth was warm and loving, savoring your taste as you whined into his.
He was smiling so widely against your skin, his pride booming at the way you reacted to his touch. He never once thought he could get you to react like this.
“You just wanted to see if I was a virgin huh? You curious?”
You nod and shake your head, confused on why you were doing this as well. You wanted this so much it almost hurt, you’ve wanted this since day one. You were also really curious as well though.
“You know what they say.”
He leans into your ear, kissing your neck and biting your ear.
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
You felt his fingers rub at your clothed pussy, your black cloth panties preventing him from fucking you with his fingers. His fingers rub against your clit, the cotton creating friction on it as well.
“Please Spencer! Please please please!”
You beg, feeling his breath land on your cold skin in a way that felt so raw and rigid. He tugs at your panties, freeing your cunt as a finger rubs against your clit, the bundle of nerves jolting you up.
A loud moan escapes your lips as he continues circling your clit with his long fingers, His lips kissing your open ones.
Two fingers probe into you, scissoring themselves inside of you. You groan into his mouth as they curl upwards into your wet cunt.
“Shit!”
He moves his head between your thighs, licking a wet stripe up your clit, flicking it around as you moan at the sensitive feeling. It feels like electricity lighting up the sensitive nub.
A pressure builds between your legs, a spring coiling in your stomach as he suckles on your clit, fucking you fast with his fingers.
“Spencer! I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum!”
“Do it.”
It hits you like a fiery clap of thunder, the feeling so extreme and hot it almost makes you scream and you can only hope no one heard you over the music outside.
Your breathing is labored as your high dies down, but Spencer doesn’t let up, he flips you over onto your stomach, dragging you to your knees by your hips.
“Wha-”
You get cut off by your own moan of pain, the tip of his cock slowly being pressed into your tight and wet cunt.
“It’ll get better baby, I’ll go slow, I promise. Just tell me when you want me to go, and when you want me to stop. Okay?”
You nod against the pillow under your face, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. A hand lands on your ass, making you yelp at the rough feeling.
“Words baby.”
You moan, palming the sheets with your fists as he pulls out completely, leaving you to feel empty.
“Okay! Please Spencer! Please I need you!”
You could practically feel his pride rolling off of him as he pushes into your sex slowly, filling you up fully.
It’s a stinging feeling, as if you were being torn apart. But he waits, he let’s you adjust to his girthy size before moving. He really was gentle. You hadn’t expected him to be rough exactly, but he was shockingly gentle and patient.
Eventually, you got used to the feeling, it felt so satisfying as well. The feeling of being so full and warm was so pleasuring, it sent little jolts of pleasure up your spine and out your mouth, making Spencer smirk.
“You’re so tight for me. You so curious you let me fuck you huh? So eager?”
You nod, burying your face into the pillows. You want him to move, to fuck you until you break, but words won’t come out, so you move your hips forwards, letting part of him slip out of you before moving him back into your dripping cunt.
A loud groan escapes both of your lips at the feeling, his hand lands on your ass again, reddening it before taking the hint and thrusting into you carefully.
“Oh... Holy crap!”
You moan out as he continues to clench your hips, surely leaving bruises tomorrow. His thrusts remained slow and deep, but it felt just right. He let his hands wander, travelling up and down your body.
His fingers find your bra, unclipping it and letting it fall off. Your breasts move to the rhythm of his thrusts.
“Faster... Please Spencer faster!”
“What’s that my little slut? You want more? You gonna be a greedy little slut?”
You could feel your cheeks become a dark crimson color, slightly embarrassed at the degrading language he was using, but you nod nonetheless, wanting him to pound into you shamelessly.
“Very well. What a dirty slut wants, she gets.”
His pace quickens suddenly, each thrust into you sharp and hitting into you just right. Loud moans escape both yours and Spencer’s lips, the room becoming sweaty and sticky quickly.
“This want you want you whore? You just want to be fucked like a cheap whore?”
Pointless babbles fall out of your mouth, quiet “Yes” and “I’m your cheap whore” being mumbled as he pounded into from behind.
A gasp escapes your lips as he lands another smack to your ass, leaving a burning sensation that felt so damn pleasurable after the initial sting.
A familiar pressure builds up between your thighs again, Your legs trembling under the Thunderous feeling of your orgasm washing over your entire body.
You had thought that two orgasms would have been enough for him, but he doesn’t let up, even flipping you back over and thrusting into you harder.
“S-Spencer!”
You gasp and squirm as his fingers find your sensitive and swollen clit, pinching and rubbing it with his thumb and index finger. It felt like a wave of nerves jolting every bone, your back arching off of the cushion underneath you.
He continues pounding into you mercilessly, admiring the way your tits bounce at his pace, the way you so desperately panted for mercy, but your body betrayed you.
If you really wanted him to get off of you, you would have made it much more clear, you would have been pushing him off more, but you were more just clutching him closer than anything, wriggling your body around.
You couldn’t form any words at this point, chasing after your third orgasm endlessly. You manage to spot the hand that isn’t abusing your clit snake its way up your body, playing and pinching your nipples briefly before wrapping itself around your neck.
Soft squeezes are delivered to your throat, making you whimper and whine, your own hands reaching his wrist for support, feeling up the vein-y muscles.
“Spencer! Spencer I’m gonna... I’m gonna cum!”
You whimper out, his hand tightens around your throat and his fingers rub your clit faster and harder, abusing the already raw nerves.
Everything felt so overwhelming. Your body was shaking aggressively each time he rubbed your swollen nub, and the feeling of him pounding into your wet cunt repeatedly slamming your sweet spot mercilessly and choking you out at the same time was so raw and powerful.
It felt unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. And with a broken moan, you came all over his cock, clenching around him and pushing him over the edge as well.
He came right inside of you, riding out his high while slowing the rubs delivered to your clit. Your insides were twitching like crazy around his sensitive cock, making him groan while watching your entire body shake.
Soon after you both came, he pulled out, letting his cum drip out of you and onto the bed, pulling your body to sit up.
“Well, did I pass your test?”
You lazily nod at his question. You panted heavily, trying to chase after your breath.
“Holy shit Spencer... That was... Wow.”
He chuckled, grabbing your clothes off of the floor and placing them next to you.
“Need help cleaning up?”
You shook your head, meeting his starstruck eyes for the first time since he choked you. They were so bright, so in awe.
“Alright, well I’m gonna head home so I don’t have to face the others. See you at work?”
“See ya.”
-
-
-
-
-
Twenty minutes later, Spencer had gone home and you had finished getting all of his cum out of you, and now you were fully dressed, making your way back to the others in a shell shocked state of mind.
Everyone else was trying their hardest not to laugh at the sight of your shaky legs when you stumbled into your chair, red hickies all over your neck. You sat with a blank stare in your eyes, chugging your water.
“So?”
Morgan asked, knowing the answer already but just wanting to hear it anyways.
“You were wrong.”
You managed to mumble out. Everyone broke out laughing, even Hotch and Rossi.
You continued to eat your wings, The memory of what just happened stuck on replay in your brain.
PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016 @spencer-reids-snow-white @sheepfather @eusuntgroot @libradolan
#criminal minds#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid#dr. spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid x y/n#mgg#mgg fluff#mgg headcannon#mgg smut#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid smut#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler#matthew gray gubler fluff#derek morgan#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#penelope garcia#luke alvez#david rossi
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“You’re gonna have to run this by me again,” he said, shaking his head at the screen of his laptop. “Cause I’m pretty sure I called you for an apartment, not a matchmaking service.”
“We are not a matchmaking service,” the woman in the red blouse said firmly, almost as if he wasn’t the first to make that remark. She rather reminded him of one of the managers at work. “We select tenants for very specific homeowners.”
“Okay,” he frowned. “So now you sound like an escort service.”
“No,” she insisted. “No, I told you. You would be renting a room in a house. That’s what this interview is for, nothing more.”
Sure, just like the advertisement had said. And yet— “So why do you need to know about my personality and hobbies?”
The lady was beginning to look rather frazzled. “Because it is very important to my client – the homeowner – that his tenants are a good fit,” she answered. “He lives in the house too after all, and he prefers to keep turnover as low as possible.”
“Turnover?” he baulked.
“Oh you know what I mean,” she said hastily. “People leaving. It upsets him.”
He was trying not to stare, he really was, but he didn’t manage very well. “Right,” he said, as airily as he could. “You’ve moved from escort service to potential serial killer.”
“Really, sir!” she protested, but by now he was honestly ready to laugh.
“I’m sorry, but what else do you call a landlord that has his tenants screened so they will not leave.”
The woman’s shoulders sagged. “That is not at all what I’m doing! And my client is renting out rooms in his own house, he isn’t doing this to make money, just to break even.”
Yeah he had heard that before. But it was a nice house. “So he’s looking for housemates, then, not tenants.”
She brightened up considerably. “Yes!”
He pressed his fingertips together. “And your ‘client’ has a creepy service to find him these roommates that may not leave because…?”
“Oh alright. Fine. Because he’s a dragon.”
Whatever this woman’s problem was she had a weird way of deflecting reasonable questions. “Because he’s a dragon,” he echoed.
“Yes,” she sighed. “I usually don’t lead with that, for obvious reasons, but that is essentially why, yes. It’s all very proper and traditional, of course, speaking from a culturally dragonish point of view. But it makes most humans uncomfortable until they fully understand the situation. I assure you all our clients have excellent character references. And we pledge to find a viable alternative for any tenant who wishes to move out within the six-month trial period if our dragon-human mediation does not work out.”
“Wait, you’re serious?” He was pretty sure his brain stopped working at the words ‘culturally dragonish’ but whatever else she had just rattled off, it was definitely not a joke.
The woman blinked. “Why yes, we take our responsibility as intermediators very seriously.”
“No, no, hold up. You’re actually working for a dragon?” Certain parts of their earlier conversation were slowly starting to slot into place. Stuff about a cosy household, landlord-to-tenant responsibility and a mutually supportive living environment. All very proper and traditional… He met her eyes with his mouth unapologetically agape. “You’re working for a dragon that hoards housemates??”
She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “We prefer not to call it that.”
“But that’s what it is, really.”
The woman’s mouth pulled slightly. “…yes.”
He took a moment to let it sink in. A long, glorious moment. And then he sat back upright in his chair, leaning towards his laptop with entirely renewed interest.
“Alright, so first off, just for the record: you totally are running a matchmaking service. Second—” He added quickly before she could start up another protest. “I will answer whatever questions you need to ask to match me to this dragon household-hoard.”
“Wh- You will?” she said in surprise.
“Whatever you need,” he vowed. “And uh, word of advice, next time, definitely lead with the dragon thing.”
#and they were roommates#:P#laura drabbles#dragons hoarding people is a time honoured tradition in my and my sister's fictional worlds#dragon#urban fantasy#fantasy#dragons#urban fantasy professionals#I do hope this inspires people to think of more cosy dragon scenarios#but please#this is a drabble not a prompt#the characters just don't have names because a) names hard and b) I feel like flash fiction like this is just a bit more accessible without#housing & hoarding inc#scales and share houses
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