#hes a secretary for a paper + office supply company

[wolfylch]

Merry Christmas TTCC nerds!! 🎄✨️💕

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - A Sean Wallace/OFC Story.

I couldn't wait to share this with you, besties. Here, have the first chapter! I know that Sean is pretty niche as he doesn't seem to have all too huge a fandom, but if I can garner a few readers, and you guys could help me out by reblogging this, I would be very appreciative. Commentary is very welcome, as usual, so yes, dive on in and hopefully enjoy! If you like it enough, you can have chapter two sooner rather than later, too :)

The story begins seven years in the past, but will then run semi-canon to the Gangs of London plot and timeframe.

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,826

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

May 24th, 2016. 

Coffee, the financial times and resounding quiet. These were the defining components needed for Finn Wallace to begin each day within the spatial surroundings of his corner office, the floor to ceiling windows offering the widest view of the city he ruled over with an iron fist.  

“Mr Wallace, please. Sir...”  

The words of Minnie, his secretary, delivered outside of his office with mildly pleading desperation tore his attention from fastidiously studying the FTSE 100, Finn looking out from above the pink sheets of paper. He witnessed her scurrying along, her eyes pleading while trying to match the long strides of his son as he approached. “You know your father doesn’t like to be bothered...” 

...between the hours of eight and nine. He needed a full hour with nothing but a newspaper and a good supply of anything that came from Whittard of Chelsea prior to starting his day. His son had other ideas that morning, though.  

Placing his coffee down, he lifted his chin as Sean strode through the doors, a heap of paperwork within his grasp.  

“One print off of the e-contract signed late last night by Kevin Cavanagh, and one verbal assurance that the vessels may port within his dock space for the original agreed amount.” The paperwork hit the desk so hard, it was almost splashed in coffee, Sean looking thoroughly pleased with himself. As he should, his father thought. Kevin had been extremely tricky in this, his son’s first solo deal for the company. 

Reaching for the contract, Finn could scarcely believe it, but there it was. K. Cavanagh. Signed, sealed and delivered. “How the fuck did you swing that, boyo?” 

Kevin Cavanagh had shown himself to be a rather large thorn in the side of the Wallace empire for weeks, the investor digging his heels in over their proposed deal, an influx of two hundred million sterling into the company’s legitimate holdings to fund the proposed apartment complex they wished to build, and a grant of passage for boats containing large shipments of heroin porting from Pakistan to enter his docks.  

The terms and conditions set by Sean had been made clear, but having the upper hand in it all, Kevin had gone back on their proposed arrangement out of sheer greed. It had not gone down well at all. Especially since Finn considered Kevin to be a long-standing friend as well as a business associate. He wasn’t about to involve himself, though. It was Sean’s deal, and he had to learn in going it alone, friend or not. 

In their world, though, alliance and friendship were subject to change at any given moment. Friendships aside, Sean had been advised by his father to do whatever it took to secure the deal by the required deadline, which had passed at midnight the night before. 

Looking upon his son expectantly, Finn was under no illusion over Sean’s self-satisfied pride in his achievement. His poise did not slip, though. Not even for a second. “I have my ways, all of them effective.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “How?”  

His son smirked, the same bloody smirk he’d had since he was three, back when he’d usually hoodwinked his mother into the offering of a second reach into the biscuit tin. “If you knew that, then you’d know as much as me.” 

Finn felt himself losing patience at his allusivity, but couldn’t quite keep the grin from spreading across his face. “Wiley little shit.”  

He chuckled, checking his watch. “I have a meeting to get to. Lunch at The Strand, 1pm? I have a table booked. See you then.” 

“If I’m late, order my usual.” Looking over the contract once again, Finn rested his chin upon the pinch of his thumb and forefinger. If he’d gotten a result without them having to yield to Kevin, it surely didn’t matter how Sean had procured the deal.  

As time would tell, though, it would.  

Striding from the building, Sean climbed into the waiting car, ready to be whisked across London for a viewing on another apartment complex currently under construction. It would take up most of his morning, but such was the nature of his role within the company. Build big, reap big, remain on top. 

Leaning back against the plush leather upholstery within the black Mercedes, Sean winced, feeling the soreness that remained from his weekend of sexual hedonism. Clawed scratches marking the freckled alabaster of his back from his shoulders right to the rounded muscles of his arse had certainly felt good at the time, but now the scabbed wounds stung and itched.  

That itching sting was experienced internally, too, a rolling wave of cold discomfort washing over his insides once again. Guilt. Maybe even a little remorse. Who’d have thought it? Certainly not him. He had previously considered those emotions to be completely superfluous, with a nature such as his, and most definitely not when his actions had reaped such rewards.  

Sean was, if nothing else, completely ruthless in the pursuit of attainment.  

His go to in attaining a desired result didn’t always equal the exertion of moral turpitude, but in this instance it very much had. There was no going back on it either. He had struck out, used his bargaining chip of blackmail and garnered the desired results. At twenty-five years old, he’d thought himself perhaps above the actions he’d resorted to, considering his bartering and negotiation skills to be proficient enough.  

They hadn’t been.  

However, Sean knew that blackmailing Kevin Cavanagh into agreement by threatening to upload a video to the internet of himself fucking his eighteen-year-old daughter would work like a charm in securing a signature, and it had.  

He’d understandably been beyond livid with him, after receiving an edited version of the hour-long filming, showing just enough for Kevin to know that Catherine would be subjected to great personal embarrassment and emotional anguish if he didn’t comply.  

With his arm figuratively bent up his back, he had agreed, the money immediately transferred, and the contract signed the evening before, once he and his wife had returned from their weekend away. Kevin had also struck a permanent black mark against the son of his old friend, knowing that Finn likely had no part in the blackmail. As chillingly cutthroat as he could be, it wasn’t his style. Words would be had, though, and Sean knew he likely had that coming to him sooner or later.  

Just as he would when Catherine caught up with him. He highly doubted Kevin wouldn’t tell her. 

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, placing his earbuds in and locating the video he had promised to delete. He’d been hesitant there, not because he intended to nefariously make good on his threat and upload it anyway, he had no cause to. The reason behind his stalling was much more complex, and not one he was in a hurry to admit. Not even to himself.  

Hearing her sweet moans as he watched himself on the screen, face buried between her legs, a jolt ran right through him. He could almost still taste the sweet honey of her cunt on his tongue, feel her skin against his, and with a shift in his seat, experience her nails clawing at his back.  

It was only ever meant to happen once. Once had led to an entire weekend, and there it was again, the unpleasant sting rolling through his guts as he closed his eyes and remembered it. Remembered her.  

Her... her. 

It was only ever meant to happen once... 

St Augustine’s Grammar School for Girls was one of the most exclusive private Catholic schools in the entirety of London. For an eye watering yearly fee, it boasted unsurpassed examination results, a sterling OFSTED record, and much to the fury of the young ladies within its prestigious halls, a strict code for uniform. A black skirt to the knee, high black socks, a white shirt and a navy blazer and tie.  

Even the students attending the adjoining sixth form college had to still adhere, much to their loathing. For Catherine Cavanagh, as soon as she was out of the front gates with her friends, adjustments were made.  

Her neatly pleated skirt was rolled over a few times to hitch it up, her folded over socks pulled up until they came over the knee, her blazer and tie stuffed into her bag and her shirt undone to reveal a little of the black lace bra she wore beneath, as well as being knotted at the waist. She liked to show off some of what she had. 

Lashings of smoky black eyeliner were applied, her lips liberally glossed and her shoulder length blonde waves all shook free of their ponytail prison before she sauntered away, ready for a coffee with her friends, of whom also made similar adjustments to their own uniforms. They were young women at eighteen, all mildly incensed that they still had to stick to the rules of their frigidly stalwart school.  

Catherine, or Rin as she preferred to be called, was far from frigid.  

“Oi darlin’! Fancy gettin’ in the back of me van and lettin’ me give ya one, eh?” 

Ugh. Builders. The worst of the worst for shouting pervy obscenities from the open window of a slowed down Ford Transit. She immediately rolled her eyes. “No thanks, but I fancy giving you this.” Raising her middle finger, her confident smirk grew, her friends cheering on her usual chutzpah.   

“Fuck you, then! Little slag!” 

Rin snorted. “You wish, mate.”  

“I don’t get it,” Rashida, her bestie mused, fiddling with her necklace as she cocked her head. “He wanted to shag you five seconds ago, and now you’re a slag because you didn’t take him up on his offer?” Her face was a picture of bemused disgust as she barked a laugh. “Wanker.” 

“Yeah, sums him up. Right, let’s hit the coffee house. I’m fucking gasping for something strong, hot and foamy.” 

Their friend Carly couldn’t help but pipe up, laughing at her own joke before she’d even spoken it aloud. “What, you want the big fella from Game of Thrones in a bubble bath? What’s his name?” 

“Tormund,” Rin confirmed, her eyes dreamy. “You know I’m weak as fuck for a redhead!”  

While the prospect of Kristofer Hivju, the actor who played the aforementioned character awaiting her in a bubble bath was preferred, it was a double shot cappuccino she needed most at that moment. After a day of hard studying for her ongoing A Levels, Rin needed the coffee like air. For no other reason than to stay awake for the duration of her journey home.  

She wouldn’t be driving, though. Yet to pass her test, she would simply call for a driver in the employment of her father to collect her when she was ready. Being rich certainly had its perks. Entering the coffee shop a ten-minute walk from the school gates, she paid for her order and stood back to wait, sensing someone behind her before a familiar voice spoke into her ear. 

“I am unsure whether your mother would approve of that skirt, young lady.”  

Turning, her eyes widened. “Bloody hell! Hello!” It had been at least five years since she’d seen Sean Wallace other than fleeting moments in passing, the last proper time being when he was home from university in his final year. The occasion had been when her parents had thrown a garden party for her father’s friends and closest business associates, plus their families.  

“How are you, darling?” He drawled smoothly, kissing her cheek as they exchanged a brief hug. “It’s been a bloody age.” Looking down upon her, his gaze was nothing but clearly appreciative, thinking just what a beautiful young woman she’d become. In fact, beautiful was an understatement; she was an absolute knock out.  

In any other circumstance, Catherine Cavanagh would be his perfect match. She came from a similar family, steeped in criminality and staggeringly wealthy, with the best education money could buy, just as he himself had received. They were cut from the exact same cloth, she and Sean. This was not an exercise in procuring the perfect match long-term, though. Far from it.  

“It has, I was just thinking that myself,” she confirmed as they parted, feeling a little flustered. Oh, how she’d always fancied the arse off Sean. She might have been extremely confident for an elder teen, much more woman than girl in that respect, but still. Sean was the bloody holy grail as far as she was concerned. “As for me, up to my eyes in all things A Levels, only two more exams left and then its fingers crossed I do well enough to take the provisional place I’ve been offered at LSE.” 

He remembered that the London School of Economics had been her long-term goal from the last time he’d spoken to her at length, back when she was just a kid of thirteen. “I remember you telling me, yes. Forgive me, but I forget just what it is you were aiming for?” 

A flutter delighted her insides at that, how he hadn’t forgotten her desires to attend LSE when it had been so long since they’d last talked in depth. She’d thought he’d merely been entertaining her thirteen-year-old self and her long-winded plans for her future, but no. He’d actually listened. Then again, he was always very attentive when engaging with someone, no matter who they were. “BSc in mathematics, statistics and business.”  

“I bet your father is very proud,” he commented, Rin turning to pick up her coffee.  

“Well, I suppose he will be if I actually pull it off and attain the necessary grades. It’ll stand me in good stead for taking over the family business too, when he eventually retires.” They were birds of a feather in that respect, both primed to one day sit at the helm of their respective family empires. “Speaking of which, how are things with you? You’re doing very well at the Wallace Corporation, according to dad.” 

“Your father is correct, I am.” He was still very sure of himself. Anyone else would call it arrogance, but Sean was merely infectiously confident. He knew what he wanted, and he went right after it, Rin completely oblivious to the fact that his cool blue eyes were directly focused upon his present target. “Long hours and probably less pay than I should be garnering, but I must confess to be doing rather well for myself. Especially considering I have only been there just over four years.” 

They eventually became so lost in their catch-up chatter that Rin completely failed to realise that her friends had moved to a table, turning to see them wave at her. The looks on their faces spoke volumes. 

“I’ll be there in a sec,” she assured them, praying Carly didn’t open her mouth. No such luck. 

“No, no,” the girl herself chirped right on cue, waving her hands gently in Rin’s direction. “You stay there with your fancy man; we’ll be over here when you’re ready!” 

“Oh, shit off!” she chided, feeling her cheeks burn. Turning to Sean, she shook her head. “They’re embarrassing as fuck.” 

“I can’t say I’m embarrassed, being labelled as your fancy man.” Pulling out a seat, he gestured to it with a flirtatious smile, ensuring her heart virtually catapulted against her ribcage. She definitely blushed furiously at that. Ahh, it was almost too easy, but then again Sean’s charm was legendarily flawless. Being well spoken, powerful, and as dangerous as he was gorgeous didn’t hurt either.  

A red-haired bad boy in a Balmain suit. If Rin had a type at all in this world, it was Sean Wallace. And boy, how the man himself saw that loud and clear.  

“So, I hear your parents are away in France right now?” 

“Yes,” Rin confirmed, the smidgen of envy in her voice clear. How she would have loved a long weekend in the French Alps skiing, too. “They’ll be hurtling down a mountain right now, while I’m stuck here in dreary London, slogging my guts out all in the name of revision.” 

He smirked, picking up his espresso and sipping it. Sean liked his coffee one way; strong and black. “Ah, but you do get Mulford Hall all to yourself for the weekend. Quite the party palace, one would assume.” 

She crinkled her nose, shaking her head. “The staff will grass me up if I even so much as open a can of cider with more than four friends in attendance. Mother dearest likes to keep her fucking tabs on me.” Rin didn’t dislike her mother, but it was no secret that she was daddy’s girl through and through. If he had his way, he’d have arranged for the antiques to be removed from banquet hall and allowed she and her friends run wild. Diane was not quite so lenient.  

Yes. A banquet hall. The Cavanagh’s were truly that wealthy, to have such in their fifteen-bedroom, eighteen-bathroom, sprawling abode located in Westminster, just around the corner from Hyde Park. Half of their sprawling gardens backed onto the park itself, in fact.  

Mostly, Mulford Hall was used as a successful wedding and events venue, half of the house sectioned off as a private family residence and inaccessible to the public, also being a historical location of interest for tourists. It had been in her family for centuries, gifted to one of her ancestors, the very first Lord Mulford by King Charles I. Now with no elder male heir and her grandparents having passed on, it remained in the family by the residing Lady Mulford, her mother. 

“I suppose the little ones would have plenty to say, even if the staff did keep schtum.” Oh yes, Sean was correct there. Her younger brother and sisters would likely relish in telling on her to their parents. Keeping secrets that did not directly benefit them was not in the interests of your average twelve, ten and nine year old children. “I mean, if they could even hear the sounds of partying. Does your mother not keep them in a turret or similar?” 

She snorted laughing into her coffee, spraying a fine mist of foam from the large cup, “Shut up, you shit. You know we’re not that grand.” Suddenly, she felt the cold wave of discomfort when he frowned, wondering if she’d pushed it a little in calling him a shit, even in tease. After all, they did not know each other beyond the boundaries of acquaintance. It was their parents who were friends, not them.  

He then reached, wiping a fleck of foam from her cheek, the corners of his mouth upturning as he watched her blush, leaning across the table. “It takes a brave person to refer to me as a shit.” 

Regaining her confidence, she licked her top lip, shrugging lightly. “Or a gobby little twat such as myself.” 

She was a pistol. He enjoyed that perhaps more than he should have. He laughed softly through his nose, sipping his coffee again as she continued. “I actually have the place to myself, staff aside. The nanny has taken the little terrors to Legoland for the weekend, and there aren’t any weddings on, so I’m enjoying pottering around the old pile in my pants.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Just your pants?” 

“I like to give the gardeners something nice to look at.” 

God, and how nice her body was, he wagered, his eyes sweeping her momentarily. “I bet you do.”  

Lust. Lust delivered from behind full, long auburn lashes tinged with gold, eyes that burned like cool fire as he stared her dead in the eye, Rin feeling as if she was caught in a searchlight she could not avoid. Not that she’d want to. Being illuminated by the desire of Sean Wallace was something she’d only ever fantasised about as a girl. As a young woman, acting upon it now seemed within her grasp. 

And grasp for it she would. “You’re thinking about me in nothing but my pants, aren’t you?”  

Playful, yet direct. He liked that, liked that she was so easily wandering right into the jaws of his trap with such little effort. “I am.”  

She leaned closer, watching him retrieve a packet of mints from his pocket, placing one into his mouth. The way he so effortlessly pressed the white disc onto his tongue made her shiver, imagining the skill a mouth that clever and effortlessly cool might possess. He offered the packet, but she shook her head, the strongness of Trebor’s finest too much for her delicate tastebuds. “What else are you thinking?” 

He mirrored her, leaning near, eyes fixed unblinkingly as he ran his fingertip in a circle over the back of her hand. It was an action that made every single hair upon her arm stand on end. “I’m thinking that the next thing I want on my tongue is you.”  

Fireworks exploded in her chest and gut, a fizz of excitement glittering. Unexpected afternoon sex; it was a proposal most definitely to her liking. “Where’s closer, mine or yours?” 

“Mine,” he confirmed, rising from his seat as he pulled out his phone. “Westminster is a fucking ball ache of a drive at this time in the day.”  

He wasn’t wrong. While Sean called his driver, giving him the name of the coffee shop, Rin made a phone motion to her friends while mouthing ‘I’ll call later’, Rashida and Carly looking as alert as two meerkats keeping the watch at seeing their friend leave with the handsome young mystery man.  

Rashida couldn’t help the joke she made. It was too uncanny. “Little slag.” 

“Love you too, you knob.” Leaving to the sound of her friend's laughter, Rin joined Sean at the side of the curb, only waiting a few moments for the sleek, black Mercedes to pull up before them. He opened the door for her, Rin sliding in and moving across so he didn’t have to walk around, Sean climbing in and shutting the door with a soft clunk.  

“Home please, Tony.” he spoke to the driver, his eyes remaining ahead. She turned slightly to view him, feeling somewhat uneasy when he didn’t return her glance. Dropping her gaze, her thoughts began to race a little, jumping slightly when after a few moments, she felt his hand press to her thigh.  

It was a plan of effortless execution, Sean tracking her movements from afar for a few days prior, learning her daily routine. It truly had been as simple as turning up at her regular coffee shop prior to her usual time of arrival, turning on the charm and reaping the rewards. Leaning close, his beard tickled her earlobe, sending a thrill right through her. “I can’t wait to put my mouth between these fantastic legs of yours.”  

Neither could she.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[1:56 pm] 

(cw:reader wears lipstick)

You hated work. For all the usual reasons of waking up early, annoying bosses, and even more annoying coworkers. You worked long days and you worked hard, you go home every night exhausted, but this wasn’t why you hated work.

You hated work because you hated Doyoung. Well, hate was a strong word- you did love him but you hated your relationship at work. What had started as a rivalry had blossomed into a secret office romance. When you both entered the company you were both eager, young interns hungry for jobs in one of the most prestigious companies in the country. You hated him at first. You hated how he stepped on your toes, kissed the bosses ass, and corrected you any chance he got. But there were too many nights when you were both the last ones in the office, delirious and sleep deprived that you both got closer. There were less snarky comments and more compliments which turned into a relationship.

You were excited, a boyfriend with your same drive and motivation in the same company. You could see him at any time you wanted. What was less exciting was that Doyoung was a stickler for rules. You were now both heads of department, you were head of sales and Doyoung was head of marketing, as heads of department you “both had to be examples for those who worked under you and and office romance would not be the way to do that.” He hadn’t even cared when you mentioned how close you were with one of the girls in HR who could handle all the paperwork. He just laughed in your face and told you that no one in HR was really your friend.

And so it went. Some days you would spend the night at Doyoung’s and some night he would sleep at yours, and no one seemed to pick up on the fact that you’d both enter the office at the same time every time. It irked you.

There were days though, like today, where Doyoung would be more lenient with the rule following. Usually when you both went too many days without spending time together outside of work, like when one of you stayed at work too late to bother going to the others. Days where he would sneak you into a supply closet and press you against the shelves and kiss you until you were out of breath.

You were grasping at his shoulders, gasping as his teeth nipped the spot right behind your ear that drove you crazy. “I have a meeting at 2, I can’t be much longer,” he said breathily, hot breath hitting your ear.

You pressed hot kisses down his throat, tugging on his tie so his ear was next to your mouth, “You don’t want to be late then Mr. Kim.”

You could hear him gulp as he stepped back, running his fingers through his hair to fix it. You straightened out his shirt and tightened his tie, then used a finger to wipe away at the lipstick around his mouth.

“Ok, you got this, my love. Good luck and let me know how it goes, I have a meeting at 4 with the finance guys,” you rolled your eyes, you hated them.

“You’re smarter than them,” Doyoung told you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Wait 2 minutes before you leave and check to see if the coast is clear.”

“Yes Mr. Kim,” you smacked his butt smiling at his shocked expression, “I love you.”

He was blushing, stuttering as he looked at you with wide eyes, “I told you not to do that at work.” You shrugged nonchalantly, staring at your reflection on your phone as you fixed your smudged lipstick. He gulped again, “I love you too, text you after my meeting.”

Then he was out the door. He walked toward the conference room, smiling at his secretary as he took the stack of papers from her arms.

He reached for the handle of the conference room door before he stopped, “Um, Mr. Kim?”

He looked at her questioningly, he had one minute before he was right on time, which for him was late. “You have… red lipstick on your collar.”

He froze, it took every fiber of his being to fight the embarrassment from showing on his features. “I had spaghetti for lunch, must have eaten pretty messily. I have an extra shirt in my office, please go ahead and let them know I’ll be right back.”

He rushed down the hall toward his office, as she smiled at the sight of you, with fresh red lipstick, peeking out of the supply closet before you stepped out and strutted your way to your office at the opposite end of the hall.

Yeah right, spaghetti for lunch. Had Doyoung forgotten she ordered a salad for his lunch? She and your secretary were going to have a blast talking about this later.

-

a/n: i love them

[plutoswritingplanet]

Moon River (Hoyt Volker x Reader)

a/n: listen....that's how romance looks like, okay? don't drink kids

Warnings: it's a Far Cry 3 fanfiction for crying out loud, Canon-Typical Everything. No Smut, just, kinda Soft(?) Hoyt Volker.

Summary: When your boss goes a little too hard on the alcohol, you're about to suffer the consequences. Or so you think.

Anger and alcohol don't mix well with Hoyt Volker. 

And since Jason Bordy has arrived at the Rook Island, Hoyt's anger management has gotten worse and worse every day. Which was unfortunate for you, as his secretary/fucktoy/assistant, because as soon as the man felt anything even vaguely reminiscent of annoyance, he reached for the bottle. That usually ended with your ability to walk being stripped away from you for the next couple of days. The relationship developed between the both of you was a strange one, deffinitely not a usual sight to the habitants of the Island. 

His reasoning for "hiring" you was rather simple. He was running an empire, after all, a unique sort of company. And any respectable businessman needed to have a pretty thing on his arm, to look over more mundane tasks, and bring him coffee. Or, in some cases, to vent his frustrations to, in the only way he knew how to. Your salary has been simple as well. He allowed you to live and keep some sort of a resemblance of human life, which, on this particular island, was more than a woman could ever hope to achieve. And, despite everything that has happened to you, despite this horrid place, that smelled of fear and death, and many bodily fluids, he kept you safe. Obviously, it was a stark contrast from the life you led back home, if you could even remember what it tasted like. But beggars can't be choosers, and as you compiled a list of medical supplies that needed to be ordered for his men, you couldn't help but think of how much could've happened to you, but didn't. 

Of course, you couldn't completely relax into your squeaky chair, because despite this relatively cozy agreement you have been roped into, Hoyt Volker was a dangerous man. Unpredictable and violent, the scars on your body a testament of his short temper. Your arms littered with cigarette burns, one of his favorite ways of showing affection. A long line across your thigh, from when you've spoken out of turn. And of course, the bullet wound on your right arm, when you stepped over an invisible line and asked him a question about his past. 

Still, here you were. Late in the evening, adding bandages to the list, while a cup of cold coffee stared at you from your desk. Thank Heavens for caffeine. He wouldn't let you partake in any other form of substance abuse. his reasoning was simple, he needed his assistant to be always sharp and ready. Really, you suspected it was just another way for him to fuck with you. 

Today's been quiet at least.

He hasn't sauntered down to your "office" with any weird requests. The whole day passed with him locked in his own room, which stayed eerily quiet. You waited, always on edge, for him to yell for you, to drag you wherever he needed you to be. But, as hours passed, and you continued to do your job, no call came. Small blessings, you supposed. 

That is, until midnight has passed, and your thoughts have slowly begun to drag you to bed. You needed sleep, despite your devotion to the "company" and the insane ammounts of coffee you've drank throughout the day, you were still human, and the single cot tucked against the wall of your room called to you every time you dared to rest your eyes. Slowly, you place the papers on the edge of the desk, take a sip from your cup and move to stand, quietly, so the creaking of the chair doesn't alert the dragon locked inside his lair. It was a ritual you've adapted over the weeks, months, years of working for the man. Of living for him, and thanks to him. 

In retrospect, you concluded, that night you did everything right. Your chair moved without a sound, you didn't bang anything on the desk, you didn't even breathe too loud. Which is why, you theorized, that maybe your boss (owner) had developed some sort of super hearing abilities, because just as your bottom lifted from the chair, the door to your room busted open. 

You swallowed a scream of surprise, as none other than the man, the myth, the menace stood in your doorway. His figure slanted forward, a half empty bottle of whiskey in his slender hand. You can feel him watching you, his dark eyes scanning the room, your body, as he sways in place. Finally, after what feels like forever, he turns around without a word, and walks back to his office. 

For a moment you stay where you are, dumbfounded, legs cramping from the uncomfortable, half-seated position he has caught you in. Then, you debate, whether walking after him would be a good idea. He hasn't called after you, and honestly, you didn't see any indignation, that he wanted you to follow. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time he expected you to know his thoughts, wouldn't be the first time you get punished for not reading him like an open book. So, mustering all the courage in your body, you straighten up, knees cracking as you stand. 

He always does this shit when you're exhausted.

 Always finds you, on the verge of passing out. Or maybe, you're just perpetually tired, and the fault is yours. It most likely is. Even if it isn't, it's always your fault. You try not to pry too much on those thoughts. Bitterness hasn't been particularly helpful in your current position. You have to be good, always, otherwise he might think keeping a secretary is boring, or, even worse, troublesome. You can't be troublesome, you can't be a burden. You're not ready to die, yet. 

Your rising panic is interrupted, rather rudely, by the sound of loud shuffling. Something is being dragged across the floor, coming closer and closer. Finally, he walks in, his body barely managing to stay upright. His other hand is clasped tightly onto the backrest of his leather office chair. He drags the furniture into your room, placing it right in the middle. Then, after standing still for a couple of seconds, presumably to regain his footing, he plops himself in the chair, sinking into it immediately, as if his bones were made of cotton. 

You're left there, standing, as the man lifts the bottle of liquor to his lips and takes a long drag. You can see the liquid spilling all over his face, dripping down his chin and neck, just to be greedily soaked up by the red material of his shirt. While he's busy with himself, you wonder absentmindedly, what he would do if you just, walked over and licked all that liquor off his skin. 

Your thoughts surprise you, not only because you're not used fo fantasizing about your keeper in such a way, but mostly because of how bold you appear in your daydreams. You could never do that, not ever. He'd kill you on the spot. If there was anything Hoyt Volker hated with real passion, it was insubordination. There were lines you just wouldn't dare to cross, not after the last attempt left you with a bullet wound dangerously close to your vital organs.

And as it turns out, there would be some lines you'd have to trample over, as the man lets go of his already empty bottle. It clangs to the floor and falls right beside the chair. You fight the urge to gather it up from it's spot and dispose of it into a trashcan. Old habits die hard, and before the pirates took your life away, you'd never be caught with such a mess. 

Then, you nearly jump in your spot, because the man, who you assumed was passed out in his chair, raises his hand. Golden rings reflect the dim light from your desk lamp, as his palm motions for you to come closer. It's not an angry swipe, nor an impatient one, so your bones relax slightly, as you wobble forward on weak knees. 

You sincerely doubt, in his current state, he'd be able to pounce on you, would probably hurt himself more than you. There's a small voice in your head that hopes he'd just die of intoxication, or trip and smash his head on the floor. Those thoughts are squashed quickly with a sudden and damning realization. If he dies, there's no one here that could protect you.  So, you move, until you're just outside of his reach. 

Hoyt's head lulls backwards, as his eyes land on you, hidden under heavy eyelids. In this light, you're not afraid to think he looks like shit. The lines on his face are accentuated, and his cheeks look even more sunken than usual, which is a horrific sight. He hasn't been shaving for quite some time, it would seem. There is a cast of dark hair poking through his skin all around his lips. 

- Do you need anything? - you ask, voice barely above whisper, but still too loud to your ears in this silent room. 

Hoyt watches you, his arm still slightly extended. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you take notice of the slight blush that has settled onto his tan skin, making his sunken features a bit more bearable. 

If he wasn't a monster, he'd look handsome. 

- Dance - his voice startles you more than you're comfortable with admitting. 

You can barely understand him, between the slurred tone and the roughness coating his words. Your face must reflect that confusion, because his eyebrows immediately scrunch together. 

- Daaance - he repeats, louder, waving his hand in front of you, his body sliding slightly in the chair. 

You raise your hands in immediate defeat.

- Okay, okay Boss - you mutter, before bracing yourself for impact, because there was a question you had to ask. - There is no music, Boss - you cringe in preparation of an outburst.

It never comes, thankfully. Hoyt seems to be on another plane of existence with the amount of liquor he's been drinking. Your lucky day indeed.  

- Fucking... - his entire face scrunches up, as if saying anything at all is causing him physical pain. - Fucking think...of it. Use that... - his hand dances in the air, as he points to the vague are where your head is - Use it.

If you weren't scared for your life, you'd find that hilarious. Drunk people usually made you laugh, but this? Your big and scary boss, who deals with death and torture on the daily, and likes it... Reduced to a bumbling idiot. And right in front of you, at that. Maybe there was a God.

But, his request still rings true, and your mind tries to focus on some song you remember hearing in a strip club years ago. From another life. Your movements are a little stiff, as you sway your hips, touching your body in a way, you hope, he finds pleasant. A strip tease usually works for him, and it wouldn't be the first time he's ordered you to put on a show for him. Good, you know how to do that.

Immediately, when you start to move, the man in the chair shakes his head. Okay, apparently you've missed. His whole body becomes animated, feet kicking and sliding on the tiled floor like an impatient toddler trapped in a stroller.  

- No no no no - he reaches up to push his sweaty hair back from his forehead, you can see him scratch his skin along the way - Not like - his lips purse - thaaaat...

To your surprise, you can feel a tinge of irritation rising in your gut. Again with the fucking mind reading. Your life would be so much easier if he would just communicate with you. You realize having an expectation such as this, about a murderer, torturer, human trafficker and a lot more, is borderline insane, but still, a woman can dream. 

You surpress the urge to run, as he suddenly shifts his body weight and slumps forwards. He stays like that for a long while, his head down between his legs, and for a second you entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe, the fucker has finally passed out. Your hopes are short-lived however, because as suddenly as he changed his position, his head snaps back up, dark eyes fixated on you.

He swallows thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down under his thin skin. 

His expression is serious, the dark circles around his chocolate eyes give his face an almost ghastly look. But, to your general discomfort, you realize he's trying to form a thought through the alcoholic haze. It's not good if he's thinking. You prefer him boneless and mindless, and preferably far away from you. 

- Dance like... - you catch onto the change of his tone almost immediately, but for the life of you, you can't quite place this new expression.

Dare you say, he looks almost wistful? No, you wouldn't dare call it that. You're not dealing with a lovesick puppy after all, and the worst thing you could ever do, while in the presence of Hoyt Volker, whatever his state may be, is letting your guard down. So you don't. Your arms come up to encircle your waist, as if holding your own body would stop you from shattering on his command. 

- Dance like I'm not here.

A pin drops somewhere in the room, as his words register in your brain. Like he's not there? Can you even remember how to move your body like that, so carelesly, so happy? 

There's an obvious strain in his body, as he pushes himself back against the chair, his head lulling back. His eyes stay trained on you however, and with a sigh, he watches your body sway. It's awkward at first, your movements clumsy and uncertain, but you continue to move in your own rythmn. What was the last song you heard before your life got destroyed? You try to remember, to envision yourself back at home, standing in the kitchen with a wooden spatula in your hand. 

You'd be cooking spaghetti, or some bastardized version of it, the whole kitchen filled with the smell of tomato sauce and spices. God, you missed that smell, and the taste of good, home cooked food. Or, taste of any food, for that matter, because the sorry excuse of meals they've been giving you here could barely pass as edible. What music would be playing, you wonder, as you let yourself slide around the room, twirling in place. You liked old timey tunes, something that would be easy to work to, to dance to. Something, with music that would rise and fall, smooth and light, like your steps on the tiled floor. 

You can almost feel the sun pouring through the window, the buzzing of insects and the sound of birds singing outside. Is this the insanity of Rook Island finally settling in? Have you finally gone mad with the fever, with all the pain and fear? Perhaps. Maybe this is only the first step towards oblivion. 

You sneak a look towards the man. He hasn't moved from his position, head lulling from one side to the other, as his eyes follow you through the room. You can see his hands, tightened around his knees, where his blunt fingernails dig into the thick material of his jeans. Then, as if pushed by something, he slumps forwards. The chair creaks as he does, and in surprise you loose your momentum for a split second, before regaining your rythmn. He says nothing, but you can hear his voice mixing with the buzzing of the electricity all throughout the base. 

He's humming, you realize with a mixture of feelings you can't quite place. 

It takes you a while to recognize the tune, as his voice is broken by the thickness of his drunken state. Then, it hits you like a ton of bricks. Motherfucker is humming Moon River. Has he seen the Breakfast at Tiffany's? In your mind's eye you can almost imagine him, splayed out on a couch, with a glass of burbon in his hand and the face of Aubrey Hepburn on the TV screen. The thought brings a small giggle to your lips, and as you spin in place again, you swear you can see a ghost of a smile on the man's lips. 

Again, you allow yourself to get lost in the fantasy, in the smell of fresh pasta and the low humming coming from the man. You miss your past life, you always will. The comfort of freedom, of being allowed to decide for yourself. You missed going to sleep and not having to worry, if you'll be able to see the sun rise. Of hoping, deep down, that you won't.

The tears pricking at the edges of your eyes are the first thing that startles you. Your dance stops, as your hand migrates up wipe your eyes. Stupid, stupid, so stupid. You can't allow yourself to become sentimental now. You have to survive, as long as it takes to find a way out of here. 

The second thing that startles you, is the sudden hot weight, that hangs around your back. Your bones lock in place, heart thrumming wildly against your chest. 

Hoyt buries his face in the crook of your neck, his slender arms encircling your body in a vice like grip. Your breathing nearly stops, as you feel his chest brush against your back. He smells strongly of cologne, sweat and alcohol, and he's hot, almost unnaturally so. 

Then, he starts to move, and your mind scrambles for any other instance of a behavior such as this. It's no use however. Never in your life on the Island, has Hoyt Volker gotten so close to you without finding some way to hurt you. 

His breath huffs strands of your hair to the front of your face, as he mutters something quickly into your skin, his lips moving across the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Phrases leave him in hushed whispers, in a language you don't understand but can recognize. Afrikaans. Did all the alcohol and drugs finally scramble his brains? Did he finally go completely insane? 

He might as well, because as you swayed in place, trying to accommodate the sudden weight of his body, Hoyt's hands start to roam your figure. Blunt nails dig into any flesh they can find, raking over your thighs, squeezing your hips, before finally settling on playing with your breasts, weighing them in his hands. Then, with a sigh, which you can only describe as content, his arms fully encircle you, pulling you impossibly close.

- What the fuck? - the question slips from your lips despite your best efforts at stopping it. 

He doesn't say anything, his voice going back to the low hum from before, as he starts to sway in place to the tune of the song, shared between the two of you in a whisper. 

He stays like that for a while. You're not sure how much time has passed but soon, the humming starts to become more and more jagged, his voice rough. And before you know it, his whole body weight pushes you towards the desk, where with an annoyed sigh you realize, he has fallen asleep. 

He always does shit like that, when you're exhausted, you think. The distance between your room and his bed suddenly becoming a dawning problem, one, you'd have to deal with sooner rather than later. 

[space-mermaid-writing]

Faded Black Ink [IronStrange] - Chapter 14

Relationship: Doctor!Stephen Strange x Mafia!Tony Stark

Tags: Mafia AU, Angst, Romance, Idiots in love

Ko-fi | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's note: Thanks to the wonderful people at the IronStrange Haven Discord Server for helping me with ideas for Tony’s tattoos! No beta. I binged-wrote this and now I'm going to bed. Good night.

Chapter 14: Gifts

The next three days Stephen ignored any text and call from Tony.

Then the gifts began to arrive.

At first, it was a tall mug filled with coffee. Stephen thought Christine was kind enough to leave him before rounds. The mug seemed custom fit to his grip, had a thick handle and wide rim. It didn't burn his palms the way the paper cups in the cafeteria did.

The following day, the staff room had a brand new espresso machine that came with coffee so rich and dark Stephen found himself licking his lips all day trying to savor the taste.

The cafeteria changed food supply companies three days later and the grey gruel disguised as the basic elements on the food pyramid disappeared and were replaced with meals patients actually are instead of dumping it in the trash next to them. Stephen considered actually eating at the cafeteria for the first time he worked here.

A week later, the dean showed up as Stephen was signing the delivery slips to a brand new MRI machine the hospital desperately needed, but he couldn’t find a purchase order for anywhere. The dean lingered by the door, hands shoved his pockets. His eyes met Strange’s and he nodded very pleased with the latest addition of tech. “Good job.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Stephen replied, highly confused.

“Of course not.” The dean winked at him. “After all, you’re not a messenger.”

Stephen dropped the pen to the floor. I couldn't be! It had to be a stupid coincidence. It was probably the dean's revenge for Strange being so snappish with him at the gala. The dean must have placed the order himself. An MRI was way too expensive; only he had the authority to spend that much of the hospital money.

Stephen picked up the pen and dismissed it as a bad joke.

For lunch he met with Christine at the cafeteria. He hadn't told her about the UCSF offer yet. The business card was lying on his work desk at home; he hadn't dialed the phone number on it yet. Funny. Not long ago he would have accepted the position on the spot, packed his bags and left New York behind. Stephen saw himself as someone who was focused on his job, his career.

The fact was, it was still in his focus, but he felt he had built something here. New York felt like home, which was ridiculous, because it was a giant, chaotic city.

He chose fish for lunch, because it looked like real fish and not some cheap and mashed together fish-like something. The MRI machine came back to his mind as he looked at his plate. He told himself it was a coincidence. The hospital had clearly made good profits this year.

The next day, Stephen showed up later than usual for work. His only appointment today was a surgery. A routine procedure and he didn't need to prepare for it other than to be rested and re-read some details. Putting his jacket and bag down in his office, he spotted a small box sitting on his desk. That was odd since his door has been locked.

The box was square with a logo of Arnold & Son. When he opened it, he found a piece of art of mechanism and titanium. Elegant and sleek. Stephen was sure that if he tried the watch on, it would fit perfectly on his wrist.

He walked to the station office on the same floor, which was also responsible for making his appointments in his absence, functioning as some kind of secretary. "Has someone been here to see me today?"

Billy glanced up from his computer. "Not that I know of. Why?"

"There's something on my desk I didn't put there."

"Oh yes!", Billy remembered, snipping with his finger. "A delivery was left for you at the front desk. I put it in your office."

"Do you know who dropped it off?"

"Sorry, no. You have to ask Sarah."

Stephen turned around and chased down Sarah from the front desk. But she could not help him either. The watch had been brought by a private courier. The nondescript, generic type.

Back in his office, Stephen stared at the watch. He remembered Stark's joke to show him his collection. But Tony had stopped calling him, after Stephen refused to talk to him.

Despite the expensive gift, Stephen still didn't call Tony back. He wouldn't even know what to say.

Two days later it was raining. Stephen drove his car to work as usual. He was running late, the streets were crowded. More people than usual were driving their cars, trying to get less wet on their way to work than by any other means. So Stephen's mood was not at its peak anyway. Then, arriving at the hospital, he saw that his personal parking space was occupied. He stared at the flashy sports car that had the audacity to stand in the space that was clearly assigned to him by a badge. The color of the Porsche 918 Spyder was so obnoxious that Stephen was sure it was a special paint job.

He knew of only one person who would drive such a car and who liked to sneak into his personal space. Grumbling, the doctor parked elsewhere – farther away from the main entrance, getting a lot wetter, although he hurried into the building with long strides. He went directly to the front desk.

"Someone is parking in my spot." Already in a mood he was willing to have the car towed. It was Tony's own fault to provoke him like that.

Sarah's face lit up as soon as she saw him. "Doctor Strange!" Her voice was a singsong even though she had no right to be this cheerful on such a rainy day. "Something's been dropped off for you again. And I also believe it's the solution to your problem."

Before Stephen could ask what the hell she meant, she pushed a jingling car key into his hand. Hanging from it was a personalized leather keychain with his initials. There was no mistake. Still, Stephen stared at the thing, taking a moment to realize what it meant. He blinked before looking back at Sarah. "Is someone waiting in my office for me?" He was wondering if Tony finally showed up. This was a way too expensive gift to not deliver it personally.

Sarah frowned – she probably expected a different reaction – and double checked the digital calendar. "No. You don’t have any appointments this morning."

Stephen turned away with a muttered "Thanks." With the key in one hand, he pulled out his phone with the other. He needed to talk to Tony. It couldn't go on like this. He couldn't put off a conversation with the man any longer. No one could tell what Tony Stark would do next. So he dialed his number.

Surprisingly, no one answered. Stephen waited until he was transferred to his voice mail. So he tried again. Stephen had never called Tony before. They had always just texted. He knew Stark was busy, but normally he always got back to him as soon as he had a free moment.

Stephen scoffed in irritation. After going to so much trouble to get Stephen's attention, you'd think Tony would be waiting for a message from Stephen.

Only on his third try in a row, Tony finally answered. "Stephen, bellino, are you alright?" Tony sounded concerned – probably because it was so unusual for Stephen to keep ringing – but also curt. As if Stephen were bothering him. That, in turn, bothered Stephen.

"Yes, We need to talk about the 'presents' you're sending me."

A brief pause arose and Stephen heard something in the background from Tony’s side. "Can I call you back?" he asked. "I'm kinda in the middle of something."

Stephen snorted, feeling offended. "No! Your meeting can wait for five minutes or I'm changing my mind about talking to you altogether."

Tony sighed silently. Holding his phone to his ear, he gestured with his other hand, in which he held a gun, to Steve, to keep the rogue group of a rivaling gang at bay, while he stepped to the side. "Alright, tesoro, I'm listening."

"You have to stop sending me stuff. It's getting ridiculous."

"Didn't you like the watch?" Tony asked.

"It's a nice watch," Stephen admitted. "But that's not the point…"

"I can get you a better one."

Stephen was losing patience. He felt like they were having two different conversations. Why was he talking to Tony about watches? "No, Tony. I don't want a watch. Do you even know why I'm angry with you?"

"Of course, you said-… hey! Who allowed you to get up? I'm trying to fix things over here..." Gunshots rang out and Stephen stared at his phone in horror before hearing Tony's voice again. "Sorry, doc. Some people just have no sense of decency. Where were we?"

"Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Aw, are you worried about me?" The smile on Tony's face sounded in his voice and Stephen sighed loudly.

"Can we meet?" he asked.

"Sure, I'll send Happy to get you after I'm finished with the scum here."

"I'll come to the tower after my shift." Stephen didn’t need the driver, he had his own car. Two of them actually, thinking of the key that he was still holding in his hand.

~~

Stephen parked his car – his own, not the new Porsche, thank you very much – outside and entered the tower through the lobby. The receptionist nodded politely to him before Stephen stepped into the elevator that took him upstairs.

He had noticed on previous visits that the entire tower was monitored by video cameras and suspected that nothing happened inside without Tony himself or his men knowing about it. So it didn't surprise him when Happy picked him up from the elevator. "Hello doctor. The boss is still in a meeting. He asked you to wait in the living room."

He took him there and Stephen sat down on the couch. Happy himself didn't seem to want to keep him company and disappeared into the hallway and out of Stephen's sight. The doctor crossed his legs, not happy about having to wait. He was impatient, feeling antsy. It wasn't like him at all. But ever since he'd met Tony, he wasn't even sure what was like him anymore.

He propped his elbow on the backrest and rested his head in his hand. Mentally, he reviewed the evening of the gala. After Stane's words, he had become quite upset, possibly overreacting. What he had heard had surprised – and hurt – him. He should have at least let Tony explain it.

The sound of clicking heels approached him.

"Doctor Strange." Pepper looked at the empty coffee table in front of him. "Can I get you a drink? Coffee, tea…something else?"

Stephen's first instinct was to decline. He didn't want to talk to Pepper, didn't even want to see her. Then again, he had no idea how long he'd have to wait. "Coffee would be nice," he therefore said.

Pepper nodded and stepped into the kitchen. Stephen heard the sound of a coffee maker.

Shortly, she returned with a tray on which were two cups, as well as milk and sugar. She set one of the cups down in front of the doctor. The second she took herself and sat down on an armchair opposite him. "I wanted to talk to you," she told him, but first turned to her coffee and weakened it with plenty of milk. Her eyes darted him a pointy look, before she settled back and took a sip.

Stephen added some sugar to his coffee and waited for what she had to say.

"I'm Tony's lawyer. So almost everything that concerns him also concerns me," she said. "I'm also his friend, so that doubles that statement."

Stephen raised his eyebrows and suppressed the jealousy that was rising inside him. On the outside he managed to maintain a neutral demeanor. "I heard once you were more than friends."

He felt like Pepper was indeed sitting as a lawyer in front of him and Stephen was her latest case. No. Tony was the case. And Stephen was on trial.

Pepper watched him calculating. In their last meetings she had displayed a polite friendliness towards him, but now she was all business.

Fine. Two could play that game, Stephen thought. As a doctor, he often had to deal with difficult patients. And even if it was not one of his favorite tasks, he had acquired a professional business attire of his own over time.

"We were," Pepper told him. "But we realized quickly that we work better just as friends." She tilted her head. "That was quite a while ago and shouldn't concern you."

"It does if it's a regular occurrence that Tony falls in bed with people who work with him," Stephen objected. They were Stane's words but they haunted him.

Pepper looked as if she suddenly understood something, and her gaze softened a bit. "I've known Tony for many years and I've only seen him falling in bed exclusively with the same person a few times. And he never talked about them as much as he does about you."

To this Stephen doesn't know what to say and he looks down at his sweet but untouched coffee.

"Why are you here?" Pepper asked suddenly. "Do you want to end things with him?"

"I wouldn't even know what it is I would end." Stephen snorted, but it was true. "I don't think he does even know why I was angry, and he bought me a goddamn sports car anyway." He pinched the bridge of his nose, still not understanding the behavior of Tony.

Pepper made an amused sound. "Have you even told him why you started that fight?"

It didn't surprise Stephen that Tony had apparently told her. She probably wouldn't be sitting here in front of him otherwise. He thought about her question, though. Stephen hadn't told Tony, but really it should be obvious – shouldn't it?

"Tony does talk a lot," Pepper continued when Stephen didn't answer. "But honestly, communication isn't always his strongest point. Sometimes you need to spell things out for him. You, on the other hand, should finally start to listen – to truly listen – to him."

Stephen tilted his head as Pepper put down her empty cup. "Why are you telling me this?"

„Like I said: I‘m a friend of Tony and I hate seeing him like this. You are different. You‘re not intimidated by him. I like that about you. It would be a shame if I had to change my opinion about you.“ She said the last sentence with emphasis. Pepper Potts was not someone Stephen would want as an enemy. In the short time he had known her, he already respected her a great deal. He could well imagine that she had the same reach of influence as Tony, but she was more subtle about it. Like a cobra waiting in the tall grass until her unsuspecting prey was close enough to attack.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Tony entered the spacious living room and both heads turned to him instantly. He stopped, not sure what to make of the fact that his lover doctor and his lawyer had obviously talked about him. The sudden silence that greeted him was loud enough.

Pepper smiled knowingly and stood up gracefully. "I'll leave you two to it." She gave Stephen one last look and then left the room.

Tony approached, his face emphatically neutral. "You wanted to talk?"

Stephen nodded slowly. "Can we go upstairs?" He preferred to talk to Tony in his penthouse, where they wouldn't run the risk of someone barging in.

"Sure."

They made their way up in silence and it was kinda awkward. At least, that's how it felt for Stephen. Tony was unusually quiet. He kept his fingers to himself, respecting Stephen's personal space. It was very different from what they were used to – even before their first kiss in the doctor's office.

Once in the penthouse, Tony headed straight for the bar. "Drink?" he asked Stephen over his shoulder. The doctor declined, and Tony poured himself two fingers' worth of amber liquid. He swirled the glass and waited for Stephen to start talking

Stephen thought of Pepper's words and maybe she was right. Maybe he had to spell it out loud.

"At the gala I learned that you and Pepper were a thing in the past. And that you have a thing for replacing your lovers rather quickly."

They had never talked about being exclusive. Neither Tony nor Stephen thought about themselves to be men that were looking for something serious. And yet they stood here, not sure where this argument left them. What it made them.

"You accused me of buying you." Tony's voice was bitter. He didn't care if someone accused him of something he had done. But when he was accused of something he had been so careful not to do – not even for his own sake, but because he had listened and wanted to do better – it hit him all the harder. "I want you to think about it: after that first check you ripped oh so gloriously, did I try to give you another?"

"No," Stephen admitted. "But people are not only bought with money. All those gifts from you… that's called bribing."

"Is it?" Tony crossed his arms, no longer caring about the drink. "So, if I – like you said – pay you, what do I get in return?"

That was the question, right? What did Stephen have that Tony could possibly want? He wasn't bribed to be his physician. Stephen had declined that money and the gifts hadn't started until way later. Was it sex? Maybe. But Tony wasn’t the type of man that needed to bribe people into having sex with him. There were plenty of willing women and men.

"Who told you?" Tony asked when Stephen said nothing, not wanting to hear the silence. "At the gala, who told you about me and Pepper?"

"It was...you know, never mind, that's not important." Stephen wouldn't mention that it was Tony's own godfather who had told him. He didn't want to start another argument. "Maybe I overreacted slightly."

A snort escaped Tony, half amused, half scowling. But it was probably the closest thing to an apology the doctor had to offer.

Stephen suddenly had another question burning on his tongue. One he had had for some time, but had not yet dared to ask it. But if this was the point of all or nothing, then why the heck not as well try it. “What are we?” Because it has been fun and games so far. And yes, also blood and anger and passion. But at the end of the day, when Stephen thought about ending things with Tony and walking away – he didn’t like that thought.

After their fight at the gala, Tony had really made an effort in reaching out to him. If it wasn't a bribe and not a payment for just casual sex, then what was it?

Tony, ever the business man, returned, "What do you want us to be?"

It was so unusual to have a conversation with Tony Stark without him taking up Stephen's personal space. And maybe that was the point. From day one, Tony had marched into his life and claimed his attention. Maybe that was the reason Stephen hadn't felt the shift of whatever they had into being something genuine. He had always assumed that Stark took what he wanted and Stephen was just along for the ride. He hadn‘t even thought about Tony being serious. But now he was standing there, several feet away from Stephen, waiting for him to make the decision. And accepting whatever outcome occurred.

The doctor bridged the distance between them with a few steps, invading the space Tony occupied at the bar. When he licked his lips, Tony's attention instantly zoomed in. "You play dirty, Doctor,” he murmured. And wasn’t that just a deja-vu of their very first meeting. Just sans the gunshot wounds, fortunately.

“What if I want more than you’re willing to give?” Stephen’s voice dropped an octave.

“Bold of you to assume how much I’m willing to give.” As if Tony hadn’t just given him a ridiculous expensive car this very morning. But Stephen wasn’t talking about money.

Tony still didn’t lay a finger on him, but his eyes – dark and hungry – spoke volumes.

“Maybe I want all of you.” Finally, finally, Stephen kissed him. It was slow and sweet and very different from what they were used to.

Tony reacted immediately. His fingers sneaked under Stephen's shirt, yaking him possessively against him until their hips were sealed. They kissed until their lips were swollen and their cheeks sported a faint red.

It wasn’t the end of everything they had to talk about, merely the beginning. But they were at an understanding that this was more than they both thought it would be. Stephen would have thought that this fact scared him – surprisingly, it didn't. It felt natural.

He arched, planting small kisses and soft bites along Tony’s jaw.

A small moan tried to escape Tony’s throat, only held back by his teeth – Stephen heard it anyway – while Tony tried to form his thoughts in actual sentences. “I didn’t want to buy you.” It was very close to rambling. “Fuck, I probably have never respected someone more than you. You’re not shy to tell me off. You’re intelligent, gorgeous and very tempting. But don’t ever tell me to not pamper you with nice stuff. You deserve it. I’d love seeing you wearing the watch I bought you. Love seeing you enjoy it. I don’t care about the money.” Tony looked at him and Stephen had him never seen so open, so vulnerable like right now. “Let me take care of you. You can pay for dinner, if you insist, I don’t care. But don’t reject a gift from me. It’s like you stab me with a knife. And I take stabbing very personally.”

His words were very dramatic yet very Tony. And Stephen understood. He understood the sentiment behind them and where Tony came from.

“I won’t.” He kissed Tony’s collarbone then wandered higher to his lips, halted right in front of them without touching them. “If you promise me not to get over the tops with the gifts.”

Tony took his well-deserved kiss. "Bellissimo, have you met me?" He looked at the Doctor, a mischief twinkle in his eyes. "I'm always over the top."

They didn't make it to bed. Yet it felt more intimate than ever. It wasn't hungry and hot headed like usual when they fell over each other. Instead, they took their time, moving slowly. The air tasted sweet with desire and full of feelings. It was both addictive and infectious.

Stephen was the most handsome man that Tony had ever laid his eyes upon. That, he would admit without hesitation. Tony forced himself to keep his eyes open and watch as Stephen threw his head back and let out the most luxurious cry as he came hard.

They stayed on the couch, tangled together, afterwards.

Stephen's fingers chased the tattoos on Tony's body. They were all on his torso and not visible when he wore a shirt. The amount of colors would have surprised him when he treated him back then after his gunshot wound, if he hadn't already seen a similar view on Peter and hadn't been so tired after his shift plus the emergency surgery.

Tony was a piece of art. He belonged in a gallery next to the greatest painters and stone carvers. Yet Stephen was selfish enough to be glad that this view was only for him.

He traced to outlines of colorful and elegant flowers sitting right above Tony's navel.

"Those are Camellia flowers." Tony's eyes followed Stephen's fingers. Their eyes met for a moment before both looked again at the painting. Each of his tattoos had a special meaning. He understood when someone got a tattoo for aesthetics, for the sake of art. For him, every image on his skin was a reminder. A sign that he did not forget and won’t ever for as long as he lived. "They were my mother's favorite."

"They are beautiful." Stephen examined more tattoos, taking time for each to look closely at the colors and patterns. They had fascinated him from the first day he had seen them. "Is this a code?" Questioningly, he pointed to a number block of 0s and 1s.

"It's the name of my first friend in binary."

"That's a long ass name."

Laughing, Tony cupped his cheeks and pulled him up for a kiss, to which Stephen was only too happy to respond. Then Stephen moved the kisses further down and covered each tattoo with one, starting with the great, blue centerpiece on his chest. He wasn't sure what the circle and lines represented, but it was familiar to him by now, as were the scars underneath that it hid. It belonged to Tony.

Stephen's finger settled on the capital A, which he had also seen on some of Tony's men, if it was placed visibly. "A for Anthony?"

"Maybe." Tony chuckled. "Would be fitting for me, wouldn't it?" His fingers brushed through the doctor's dark hair, chasing the lighter streaks on his temples. "Nah, too easy. The FBI would love it though."

"Then what does it mean?"

„Avengers. Don‘t laugh! It started after my parents died. I was in a dark place back then. Angry. But the name was fitting. Still is for most of us,“ „Steve and Bucky are ex-military. Bucky lost his arm in action and they both suffer from PTSD. It was hard for them to find a place to fit in. They only know war and function best under stress. Clint was a kid from the streets. Circus runaway gone rogue. He tried to steal from me but I caught him. He taught me some basic ASL. One day he brought home Natasha. An orphan, born in Russia. Somehow found her way overseas. I made her residence legal.“

Every single one of his most trusted people had their own story. And few of them were happy stories.

„What about Peter?“ Stephen asked in a quiet voice, almost as if he was afraid of the answer. They all had their past, sure, but Peter was still so young.

„He had nobody left when I found him. He deserves so much more,“ Tony explained as Stephen snuggled up next to him, still listening. Tony sighed. He had made the traffickers, in whose care he had found the boy, pay. It still hadn't been enough, in his opinion. It never would be.

"I met most of that weird bunch of people after I became head of the business." After his parents died. "Did you know I was shot too that day?"

Stephen looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"They were ricochets. Three shards in my chest." Tony put his hand on the blue ink. "Two inches to the side and they would have been in my heart."

"That's… how did you survive?" It was incredible. Gunshot wounds like that were mostly lethal.

"I don't know. Luck I guess. Maybe someone up there had other plans for me." Tony shrugged his shoulders as if to dispel the thought. With a naked Stephen next to him, partly spread across him, he didn't want to think about those old stories.

"Has anyone told you about the six aspects of the Avenger's yet?" he therefore asked to change the subject. As he did so, he pointed to the colored dots next to the capital A. Stephen shook his head. "They are time, space, reality, mind, soul and power. Every member of the Avenger's earns their aspects for their use. Time, for long time members. Reds, Reality, are the executive force in the streets. People who implement plans and actually change things." Tony slid his fingers to the top, purple dot. "Currently there are only three people beside me who got this one. Stane, Rhodey and Pepper. If anything happens to me, they are the next in line of command. I trust each of them with my life."

Stephen suppressed the stab of jealousy that briefly ran through him at the mention of Pepper's name. He can't help it. But he had come to understand that she was no competition for him. To Tony, she was family.

Smiling, he looked at Tony – the man that chose him, Stephen.

"Thank you for sharing this with me."

_____________________________

Tony: makes ridiculous, over the top gifts. Christine to Stephen: “Please for the love of all of our sanity: talk to him before he buys the hospital and renames it. I will quit if I’m forced to work at Strange Hospital.” That long ass binary name of Tony's first friend: 01001010 01100001 01110010 01110110 01101001 01110011

Tag List: @hidden-treasures21

[wittipogliditika]

Malta Deputy PM’s Aide Resigns Amidst Allegations Of Receiving Undeclared Payments From Indian Businessman

Senior Malta government official Carmen Ciantar has stepped down after leaked documents revealed she had received several undeclared payments from a company linked to controversial Indian-Canadian businessman Sri Ram Tumuluri, the CEO of UK-based Causis Group.

The payments are linked to a deal in 2015 when Sri Ram Tumuluri’s firm, Vitals Global Healthcare (VGH), won a privatisation tender to manage three hospitals in Malta, St. Luke’s, Karin Grech and Gozo, despite having no relevant experience. The deal and Tumuluri’s failure to deliver on his commitments have been subject to intense scrutiny in Malta and in Europe.

Tumuluri, whose company recently signed a ₹2,800 crore (approx. €316 million) deal to supply e-buses to India’s Brihanmumbai Electric Supply and Transport (BEST), is facing fresh allegations of corruption in new leaked papers involving Malta's deputy prime minister Chris Fearne’s aide and senior government official Carmen Ciantar.

After leaked documents alleged that Ciantar had received several payments totalling €443,500 from Gozo International Medicare Ltd between October 2015 and February 2016 from Ram Tumuluri’s company, Ciantar initially refuted the allegations as “totally and absolutely untrue”.

However, within a couple of hours, deputy prime minister Chris Fearne’s office announced Ciantar had resigned in order to be able to defend herself. Ciantar said she was “suspending” herself, but claimed this was in no way an admission of guilt.

The dubious payments 

Investigations revealed that the chief political advisor of Malta’s health minister Chris Fearne received a total of €443,500 Euros from Gozo International Medicare Ltd – part of the Vital Global Healthcare (VGH) group – in less than four months from the firm’s account at the Dubai-headquartered Emirates NBD Bank. It then transferred a €750,000 “loan repayment” into an account at Bordier & Cie Geneva, a Swiss private bank, registered to a Panamanian entity, Glotal Finance Inc., which also referenced Ciantar.

The first of the payments, described as travel expenses reimbursements by Ciantar, came six weeks before VGH was granted a 30-year concession to run St. Luke’s, Karin Grech, and Gozo hospitals.

Transaction reference numbers provided in the leaked banking tranche indicate there were at least 15 invoices submitted to Gozo International Medicare by Ciantar – dating between October 6, 2015, and February 25, 2016.

Carmen Ciantar, Chris Fearne and Sri Ram Tumuluri 

Carmen Ciantar is listed on LinkedIn as CEO at Foundation for Medical Services (FMS), a government entity which manages public healthcare across Malta. At the time of the transfers, she was CEO of ARMS Ltd, government-owned utilities company that came under the remit of disgraced former minister of energy and health Konrad Mizzi. Mizzi was handed a travel ban by the US Government in December 2021 on account of his involvement in “significant corruption”.

Within a few months of the transfers, according to local daily the Times of Malta, she had gone to work as the head of Fearne’s election campaign – during which time he also appointed her CEO of FMS.

Fearne, who is now deputy prime minister, was parliamentary secretary state for health in Mizzi’s ministry when VGH was granted the much-criticised 30-year concession on 30 November 2015.

There is no evidence yet that suggests that Maltese deputy prime minister Chris Fearne knew of the payments to his chief canvasser, but the sheer scale of the payments is certain to prompt calls for further investigation by opposition politicians. Fearne has held senior positions in the administrations of both former premier Joseph Muscat and current prime minister Robert Abela, who he challenged for the leadership following Muscat’s resignation in 2020.

In February this year, a Maltese judge ordered that the three hospitals be returned to public control, prompting independent MP Arnold Cassola to demand that Mizzi and former Maltese prime minister Joseph Muscat be arraigned.

“Tumuluri has been declared an international scammer and the main culprit in scams worth crores of rupees by Malta, Canada and the European Union. Serious allegations have been levelled against him and the Supreme Court in Canada has also made serious declarations about him,” BJP MLA Ashish Shelar said during a debate in the Indian parliament about tendering for electric buses from Tumuluri’s London-based Causis E-Mobility company.

[statementtitlespageforme]

Malta Deputy PM’s Aide Resigns Amidst Allegations Of Receiving Undeclared Payments From Indian Businessman

Senior Malta government official Carmen Ciantar has stepped down after leaked documents revealed she had received several undeclared payments from a company linked to controversial Indian-Canadian businessman Sri Ram Tumuluri, the CEO of UK-based Causis Group.

The payments are linked to a deal in 2015 when Sri Ram Tumuluri’s firm, Vitals Global Healthcare (VGH), won a privatisation tender to manage three hospitals in Malta, St. Luke’s, Karin Grech and Gozo, despite having no relevant experience. The deal and Tumuluri’s failure to deliver on his commitments have been subject to intense scrutiny in Malta and in Europe.

Sri Ram Tumuluri, former CEO of Vitals Global Healthcare, with Malta's health minister Chris Fearne

Tumuluri, whose company recently signed a ₹2,800 crore (approx. €316 million) deal to supply e-buses to India’s Brihanmumbai Electric Supply and Transport (BEST), is facing fresh allegations of corruption in new leaked papers involving Malta's deputy prime minister Chris Fearne’s aide and senior government official Carmen Ciantar.

After leaked documents alleged that Ciantar had received several payments totalling €443,500 from Gozo International Medicare Ltd between October 2015 and February 2016 from Ram Tumuluri’s company, Ciantar initially refuted the allegations as “totally and absolutely untrue”.

However, within a couple of hours, deputy prime minister Chris Fearne’s office announced Ciantar had resigned in order to be able to defend herself. Ciantar said she was “suspending” herself, but claimed this was in no way an admission of guilt.

The dubious payments 

Investigations revealed that the chief political advisor of Malta’s health minister Chris Fearne received a total of €443,500 Euros from Gozo International Medicare Ltd – part of the Vital Global Healthcare (VGH) group – in less than four months from the firm’s account at the Dubai-headquartered Emirates NBD Bank. It then transferred a €750,000 “loan repayment” into an account at Bordier & Cie Geneva, a Swiss private bank, registered to a Panamanian entity, Glotal Finance Inc., which also referenced Ciantar.

The first of the payments, described as travel expenses reimbursements by Ciantar, came six weeks before VGH was granted a 30-year concession to run St. Luke’s, Karin Grech, and Gozo hospitals.

Transaction reference numbers provided in the leaked banking tranche indicate there were at least 15 invoices submitted to Gozo International Medicare by Ciantar – dating between October 6, 2015, and February 25, 2016.

Carmen Ciantar, Chris Fearne and Sri Ram Tumuluri 

Carmen Ciantar is listed on LinkedIn as CEO at Foundation for Medical Services (FMS), a government entity which manages public healthcare across Malta. At the time of the transfers, she was CEO of ARMS Ltd, government-owned utilities company that came under the remit of disgraced former minister of energy and health Konrad Mizzi. Mizzi was handed a travel ban by the US Government in December 2021 on account of his involvement in “significant corruption”.

Within a few months of the transfers, according to local daily the Times of Malta, she had gone to work as the head of Fearne’s election campaign – during which time he also appointed her CEO of FMS.

Fearne, who is now deputy prime minister, was parliamentary secretary state for health in Mizzi’s ministry when VGH was granted the much-criticised 30-year concession on 30 November 2015.

There is no evidence yet that suggests that Maltese deputy prime minister Chris Fearne knew of the payments to his chief canvasser, but the sheer scale of the payments is certain to prompt calls for further investigation by opposition politicians. Fearne has held senior positions in the administrations of both former premier Joseph Muscat and current prime minister Robert Abela, who he challenged for the leadership following Muscat’s resignation in 2020.

In February this year, a Maltese judge ordered that the three hospitals be returned to public control, prompting independent MP Arnold Cassola to demand that Mizzi and former Maltese prime minister Joseph Muscat be arraigned.

“Tumuluri has been declared an international scammer and the main culprit in scams worth crores of rupees by Malta, Canada and the European Union. Serious allegations have been levelled against him and the Supreme Court in Canada has also made serious declarations about him,” BJP MLA Ashish Shelar said during a debate in the Indian parliament about tendering for electric buses from Tumuluri’s London-based Causis E-Mobility company.

[buckyalpine]

Can you not...

18+ minors dni

Bucky x female reader

Your ex is trying to win you back, wonder what Bucky thinks about that? I LOVE THIS, tried to get the whole message but it got cut off :( For my very lovely @slutforsexyseabass .  Warnings: Fluff, Angst (mentions of cheating, swearing, lil violence), Mentions + illusions to smut, daddy kink  

Word count: 3.9k

Part 2 here

the supply closet

You groaned looking at the flowers that were waiting for you at your desk as you plopped down in your chair. You opened the little note that sat on your keyboard, already knowing who the flowers were from.

               Thought of you, hope you have a good day :)

-          Mark

Mark. Your ex, who also happened to work in the same office as you. In fact that’s how you met; you joined the company 3 years ago and Mark was the first one to greet you and show you around.  He brought you coffee in the mornings and soon enough he got your number and you’d started dating. Everything was fine until you caught him 6 months with his tongue down the secretary’s throat, hands shoved up her skirt, in the supply closet. I mean, at least have the decency to cheat at the office Christmas party like everyone else?

Safe to say the relationship ended immediately after but Mark was determined to win you back, blaming his slip up due to the stress of the job (as a fucking accountant? Ok Mark). He always circled around you, restocking your papers, pens, brining your coffee, which to this day, he still got wrong.

“Did you like the flowers?”

Mark sauntered over to your desk, after passing by at least 15 times hoping you’d talk to him first.

“Mhm, they’re nice. Thank you” You gave him a tight lipped smile as he stood there wanting to prolong the conversation.

“I remember you said you liked flowers and I saw some this morning, thought of you”

“Mark I-

“Y/n, seriously, nothing behind it, just thought of you, that’s all”

“That was nice of you” You nodded, excusing yourself to go to the restroom, hoping he’d be back in his cubicle by the time you got back.

Aside from the cheating, the other problem was Mark never actually did anything for you just because he thought of you. He’d never brought you flowers until you said you liked them. Then he told you that was lame and old fashioned but “fine I guess, I’ll get you some even if it’s corny”. He’d gotten you flowers maybe once after that and never bothered again until after the incident.

You returned to your desk, only to find something else on your desk waiting for you.

Thought you might like a snack!

-          Mark

You glared at the slice of banana bread at your desk. You hated banana bread unless it was homemade and with chocolate chips. Which you’d told him plenty of times but he had the attention span of a squirrel. You poked at the slice, deciding to wrap it and stuff it in your bag for Sam instead; he never said no to food.

As soon as it was 4:00, you dashed from your desk to make your way home, pretending you didn’t hear your name being called from the elevator; you didn’t have the energy to tell him for the 100th time you didn’t want to rekindle things and you had a boyfriend. That could eat him as an afternoon snack. You speed walked back home, fiddling with the keys, gasping when the door swung open.

“Welcome home babydoll”

Bucky pulled you into his arms, kissing you all over, having returned from a month long mission that afternoon. You threw your things to the floor, wrapping your arms around him as he picked you up and jumped onto the couch.

“Welcome home to you too sergeant” All the stresses of the day washed away immediately as soon as you were in Bucky’s arms. Your skirt rode up as you shifted to straddle him, kissing him deeply. He started to unbutton your blouse, slipping his hands under to feel your warm skin, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

“I missed you so much baby”

“I missed you too James”

You stayed on the couch for a while, softly cuddling and kissing each other; something you loved doing when he came home from long missions.

“Oh! Here, I got you something”

Bucky got up from the couch, rummaging through his duffle bag, pulling out a small gift box. He grabbed the roses he’d left at the table, sitting back down again, pulling you onto his lap.

“Bubba, you didn’t need to-

“Shh, just open it”

You opened the small box, gasping at the ring that sat in the box. The gold band had a sun just like the one from your favourite movie Tangled, with a small sparkling diamond in the middle.

“Bucky…” You looked at him with glassy eyes, as he slipped the ring on your, kissing your temple.

“For my princess that I searched for my whole life”  

 “Baby, you didn’t have to get me roses too” You blinked back tears, looking at the flowers he brought you; he always came back with something for you and a bouquet of fresh flowers.

 “I will always get you flowers baby doll, they’re pretty just like you”

 2 years ago

Mark wasn’t prince charming, it definitely wasn’t a loss when you broke up with him but being cheated on still took a toll on you. You decided to swear off dating for a while until your friend introduced you to a very handsome super soldier.

“Look, you don’t have to come but Cass and AJ miss you. It’s not even a lot of people; it’s just Sam and his friend”

“The friend that Sam keeps saying is a pain in his ass?”

“All out of love, just come for dinner, you’ve been locked up in your house for long enough”

You rolled your eyes as Sarah laughed, knowing damn well you’d say yes to anything involving her kids.

***

“Aunty y/n!!” You were immediately tackled to the floor by the two boys, hugging you, and jumping with excitement before being effortlessly pulled up by a strong metal arm. You looked up, seeing the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen looking down at you, and perfect pink lips turned up into a playful smirk.

“Hi, I’m Bucky”  

Oh, you were a goner.

On your first date, he showed up at your door with flowers, a gorgeous bouquet of red roses, not because you told him, but because he wanted to.

“I-sorry, I know it might seem cheesy but you’re the first girl I’ve gone out with in a really long time and I wanted to get you something nice and they’re pretty just like you so I-

You pulled him down for a long kiss, your heart already fluttering; that was the first time of many ways he made sure you knew how special you were to him.

Present

 You cuddled with Bucky for a moment longer before putting the roses in some water and making your way over to change while he got started on dinner. You insisted on making it yourself but he refused, sending you off to shower and change. You piled your plate high with food, settling onto the couch with your comfort show playing in the background as you both ate. Another thing; he was amazing in the kitchen. After years of blandness and only eating enough for sustenance, he refused to eat anything that didn’t have flavour, especially after living with Sam and Sarah for a while.

 You’d completely forgotten about the flowers Mark had brought you after you mindlessly left them on the coffee table. Bucky glanced at them, with a sneaking suspicion before turning to you.

“Flowers?”

“Ugh, yeah, from Mark” Suspicions confirmed.

“Isn’t that your ex?”

“Yup, that would be the one”

Bucky shook his head at the pathetic flowers; they weren’t even ones you liked. Not that he wanted Mark to try and win you back but c’mon. At least put in a little more effort into your pathetic grovelling.

“He’s still trying to win you back? Hasn’t it been almost more than 2 years?”

“Mhm, he goes all out with flowers, dry pastries and coffee with too much sugar”

“And he knows you’re dating someone?”

“He knows there’s someone; he doesn’t know I’m with the most gorgeous man on the planet, who also happens to be a super soldier”

Bucky smirked, the wheels in his head turning. He wasn’t jealous. I mean, there wasn’t anything to even be jealous of. Still…

***

“Y/n, you have a visitor at the front desk” You could hear Stacey giggle, her voice at least 3 octaves higher than usual, her flirting voice.

“Who?” You never got visitors. You heard shuffling in the background and another high pitched giggle.

“Um hang on – of course you can go up, let me know if I can get you anything handsome- I can send them up?”

“Sure? I guess?” There had to be some sort of mistake, the person must have gotten the wrong name, plus no one was even allowed onto your floor unless they were granted special access.

“Here ya go y/n, grabbed you one on the way to work” You turned around to see Mark placing a bran muffin on your desk while he bit into a chocolate chip one.

“Thanks” You stared blankly at the food you wouldn’t eat even if you were 70 years old and constipated.

“So…did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Some big guy just came to the office, uh, not sure who though but everyone’s talking about it, news travels fast” Mark shifted on his feet, irritated with the way the girls were all swooning over the mystery man that was at the front desk when he came in, only having seen the back a very tall and muscular brunette. The doors to your floor opened and you heard a bunch of hushed whispers and giggles around you.

“Oh my gosh it’s him”

“How the fuck is he even more hot in person”

“Duh he’s hot but who is he bringing those for?!”

You shifted your attention from your loser ex to the commotion behind you, gasping when you saw your boyfriend nearing your desk, a giant bouquet of flowers in his arm along with a cake box from a bakery you had been dying to go to.  

“Hi babydoll” Bucky ignored Mark, who was gaping like a fish by your desk, immediately moving out of the super soldiers way, his eyes wide, sweating profusely.  

“Bucky?!” You giggled as he pecked a kiss on your nose, setting the things down so he could pull you in his arms. “What are you doing here?!”

“Been away from my pretty angel for too long, wanted to see you” Bucky grinned, feeling Marks stink eye on the two of you, rooted in place.

“How’d you manage to get all the way up here?”

“Wasn’t too hard, Stacy was very happy to let me in” Bucky smirked, winking, cocky little shit.

“Ever the charmer, Barnes” You rolled your eyes, undoing the ribbon of the cake box, revealing a selection of mini cheesecakes with different toppings. “OH MY GOD, this is from the place down the street?!”

“Mhm, saw you looking at the place earlier, thought you could try each one and tell me which one you like best” Bucky picked up the strawberry cheesecake, letting you take a bite, his tongue swiping off the crumbs that fell onto your bottom lip.

“And then I saw these and thought of my beautiful girlfriend” Bucky handed you the giant bouquet and you giggled because it was almost comical in size.  “I missed you”

“Bucky you didn’t have to; you just got me flowers yesterday”

“So? My baby deserves flowers everyday”

Most of the office was staring at the two of you with heart eyes, sighing at how sickeningly cute you both were. Except Mark, who coughed, hoping the two of you would break it up but Bucky pulled you in for a kiss that left you breathless before reluctantly letting you go.

“Uh- oh, sorry, James this is Mark, Mark this is my boyfriend James” You stuttered out, still reeling from the kiss, your face flushed, heart racing.

“Nice to meet you James” Mark plastered a fake smile on his face, turning on his heel and walking away without waiting for Bucky to respond. You giggled, burying your face in Bucky’s chest as he grinned, very proud of himself.

***

“Hey y/n” Mark placed a slice of banana bread in front of you, after monitoring the hallway to make sure it was free of super soldiers first.

“Uh, thanks Mark. Look, I have to be honest; I really don’t like banana bread, at all”

“Oh, no problem” Mark shifted closer to you, “Maybe I can take you out for lunch instead then?” He was going to take every opportunity he could to get you back (as long as Bucky wasn’t looking). You gave him an apologetic smile as he, continued to hang around your desk, fiddling with a pen, freezing when he saw Bucky enter the office.

“Hey babygirl”

You giggled hearing your boyfriend’s voice down the hall as he made his way over, this time with a small container in his hand and a cup of coffee.

“Hey Buck”

Bucky leaned against your desk, placing the coffee and container down, smirking as he saw Mark sheepishly putting the pen on back on your desk beside an untouched slice of banana bread.

“What did you bring me baby” You peered into the container, grinning when you saw a fresh loaf of banana bread inside. You broke off a piece, moaning when the chocolate chips melted onto your tongue, still warm from the oven.

“Sooo good Bucky”

“I made it myself babygirl, I know you only like it when its homemade, extra chocolate chips too. Here’s your coffee”

You kissed his cheek, feeding Bucky a piece while he held you close, staring at Mark as he slinked back to his cubicle.

Everyone around your office absolutely loved Bucky (except Mark), fawning over having the very handsome and sweet super soldier. He easily charmed his way into getting an all access pass and your boss was more than happy to let Bucky go and come as he pleased.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky became a regular at your office, making sure to visit at the exact times Mark would wander over to your desk. He’d whisk you away for lunch or coffee breaks, parading around with his arm around your waist, always walking you back to your desk before giving you a kiss good bye.

***

“Nice ring y/n” Mark leaned against your desk, trying to hold your hand under the guise of getting a better look at your ring. You flinched, yanking your hand away, taking a few steps back to create some distance between you both as he continued to step forward.  

“Thank you, Bucky got it for me”

“Oh, you’re still together?, Didn’t see him around in a while”  

“He’s on a mission, he’ll be back soon” You felt a lump forming in your throat, Bucky had been sent away for nearly 2 months and you missed him like crazy. Mark had been using Bucky’s absence to his advantage, trying to call you all the time and hovering around your desk even more.

“You know, I don’t understand how you can be with someone like that” Marks statement nearly came out as a sneer, his teeth gritting at he looked at the picture you had framed with Bucky on your desk, “The Winter Soldier, he’s never around for long”

“What did you just call him and what’s that supposed to mean?” Your eyes shot up as you glared daggers into him, making him shrink back.

“Yeah, what does that mean?” You both turned around to see Bucky stare at Mark, putting his arm around your waist protectively. Bucky had come straight to your office after his mission, metal arm on full display in his tight black t-shirt, his duffle bag was slung over his shoulder; his face was scruffy with stubble. His jaw clenched, daring your ex to answer, as he held you close to his chest.

“N-no-nothing, I- just, you’re away, and, um….” Mark swallowed thickly as Bucky pulled something from his pocket, ignoring Marks rambling as he stayed frozen place, too scared to move.

You wrapped your arms around him, while he smiled down at you, fastening a beautiful necklace around you; the dark chain had a small pendant made from black and gold vibrainum.

“You always said you missed me when I left for missions. Had it made for you after my arm was injured, polished a bit of the metal that came off”

“You got hurt?” You gasped, looking over his arm as he kissed you, shaking his head.

“I’m okay now baby, m’not going to be going on missions for a while though. Took some time off to be with my girl” Bucky’s metal arm whirred as his hand balled into a fist. Bucky glared at your ex as he slowly walked off. Giving you lousy gifts was one thing but trying to touch you? He crossed a very dangerous line.

***

“This is the address, you sure about going there alone?”

“He’s not gonna do anything”

“Yeah, it’s not you I’m worried about” Sam smirked, parking the car outside of Marks house “Just don’t get yourself arrested, maybe leave him with a pulse”

“Not promising anything”

Bucky got out of the car, taking large strides, banging on the door, his metal arm whirring as he clenched his fist, trying to control himself.

Mark opened the door, nearly squeaking in fear as the super soldier towered over him, his chest heaving.

“H-hi James, what brings you here?”

“We can talk inside” The look on Bucky’s face left no room for questions as he shoved his way in, locking the door behind him. Bucky grabbed him by the shirt, easily lifting him off the floor, throwing him against the wall.

“You. Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. My. Girl”

“I-I don’t understand- Mark scrambled to his feet, pretending to be confused,  shrinking back as Bucky stalked towards him.

“Yes the fuck you do. The flowers, the coffee, all the shit she doesn’t ask for. I let all that go for her sake, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. But the second you touched her, you made it my problem too, you don’t fucking touch her”

“Well if she didn’t want it she should have said something” Marks voice wavered as his legs shook, trying to puff his chest out, looking something like a blow up penguin. If this had nothing to do with you, Bucky would have called Sam over to laugh. He almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.

Bucky grabbed his arm, twisting it around, pinning him to the wall as he spoke directly in his ear, his voice dropping a few octaves.

“Listen to me. If you ever. Touch her again. I will kill you. You know exactly who I am. I don’t hurt people any more but I will break that rule in a heartbeat when it comes to y/n. Leave. Her. Alone”

***

You sat at your desk smiling as you played with the dog tags around Bucky’s neck. He had come over during your lunch break, feeding you chocolate covered strawberries as you sat on his lap.

“How do they taste baby?”

“Like it should be illegal for anything to taste this good, I love them”

“Really? Last time you said that was when you had your mouth around my co-

“Bucky!” You slapped your hand over his mouth as he chuckled, removing his tags, putting them around your neck instead.

“You look sexy wearing my tags baby” His lips brushed against your ear as he held your waist, his grip tightening as he saw Mark approach you, walking with purpose. He flinched for a second, seeing the silver tags hanging around your neck. He straightened his shoulders, after all it was still his work place, he could get Bucky thrown out if he wanted to, right?

“He-He’s not what you think y/n, he’s a monster”

“Excuse me?” You cocked an eyebrow, as Mark pointed an accusatory finger to a bored looking Bucky who was picking at his finger nails.

“He-he threatened me, at my house. Threatened to kill me just because we’re friends” Mark made a show of pointing to the bruises on his wrists, not even close to the ones you always had on your ass when Bucky was pounding you against the – “How can you date someone like that!? How dare he come to my house and tell me he we can’t talk, he’s just jealous, I bet- I bet he didn’t even tell you!”

Mark smirked in satisfaction as you looked up at Bucky in surprise.

“Bucky? Did you…?”

Bucky nodded wordlessly, his heart racing. He never wanted to disappoint you but he couldn’t stand seeing you get harassed on a daily basis. You grabbed Bucky’s face, pulling him down for a heated kiss, your tongue slipping between his lips, as he groaned, wrapping his arms around you, only pulling away for air.

“That is by far the sexiest thing anyone has ever done baby” You gripped Bucky’s shirt, if it wasn’t for being at work you could take pulled his cock out right then at there. “You protecting me is the hottest thing ever” You lowered your voice to a whisper just loud enough for Bucky and Mark to hear “If we were somewhere else, I’d be begging for your babies right now”

“You want that baby?” Bucky smirked, his cock stirring as your hand trailed down to his belt, teasing him.

“Mhm, you take care of me so well baby, I think I should take care of you tonight daddy ”

Bucky groaned, his hand giving your ass a squeeze, his lips brushing by your ear.  

“Yeah? You gonna be a good little slut for daddy tonight? Let him do whatever he wants?”

“Anything you want daddy”

Mark stood wide eyed, stuttering. Plan B, he could still get him thrown out. His eyes lit up as the CEO made his way through the office, nearing your table.

“I- he- well he doesn’t even work here! we’ll see what Mr. Hanson has to say about this”

“God, he’s throwing a tantrum, he’s like a toddler” Bucky snorted, straightening up as the CEO approached your desk.

“My favourite couple, hey James! How are you, how’s our new cap?” Mr. Hanson pulled Bucky into a friendly hug before giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“Hey George, I’m great, Sam’s finally getting the hang of the shield”

Mr. Hanson, laughed, before continuing to his office, turning back for a moment. “Both of you remember, this weekend, my wife is making jerk chicken with rice and beans”

Mark swallowed thickly, he didn’t really have a plan C. Bucky snickered, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“He-

You grabbed Mark by his tie, tightening it just enough for him to wheeze a little, while Bucky watched you with pride.

“He defended and protected me when you couldn’t take a hint. I didn’t report your pent up creepy ass to HR because I wanted to keep things civil between us but come here again with those stupid weeds you call flowers and I’ll kick your ass myself”

Mark gulped, scurrying off to his desk, grumbling when his text message to the secretary failed to send.

Bucky looked at you, his eyes darkened with lust as he licked his lips.

“So. About that offer?”

“Let me pack my things”

Part 2 here

The supply closet 

-

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes​ @needybabygirlstuff 

[emo-and-confused]

Headcannons based on @cb28 ‘s “ceo of many hotels tommy and hotel receptionist tubbo” au art (includes dysfunctional sleepy bois) (awesamdad)

-techno, wilbur, and tommy are phil’s kids

-(the three kids are adopted, techno was adopted when he was five, wilbur was adopted when he was four, and tommy was adopted when he was seven)

-techno is older than wilbur by two years and wilbur is older than tommy by eight years

-phil is this rich businessman. techno is some powerful leader. wilbur is a famous songwriter.

-then tommy owns a hotel

-he's still like 16/17 but he owns and manages it

-techno is the oldest therefore favorite and heir to whatever money and property phil owns

-tommy is least favorite. phil ignored him.

-then one day phil just gave him money and said "stop being a disappointment" so he started his hotel at 15

tommy: i’m going to build a hotel in rage

-then best friend tubbo who works there and is nice to tommy

phil: oh, theseus, my son. come, i was just telling my companions about your ho- who is that?

tommy: this is tubbo.

tubbo: hello :)

-wilbur being the normal brother and treating him like a normal person and taking him and tubbo to hang out and be kids

wilbur: tommy, let’s go get ice cream

tommy: wilbur, ive got things to do, paper work and, and shippments and-

wilbur: tommy.

tommy:

wilbur: let’s go. bring tubbo.

-tommy feels like he has to prove something to phil

-he also feels like he might be able to earn attention from him. that if he works hard enough phil will be proud of him

-wilbur’s music is what makes phil pay attention to him, but when he was a kid phil said his music was never going to be a stable source of income and actively encouraged other future job choices. this only made wilbur more focused on his music

-both tommy and wilbur feel the need to prove themselves

-tommy meets sam when starting up his hotel, and immediately gets attached

-sam is basically his guide, even after building the hotel. sam saw the child and went “yeah he needs parental guidance” and continued to stay in contact with tommy

-tommy is the one who gives sam the creeper mask. because sam is always working on construction and stuff and he's always inhaling debris and tommy likes minecraft so he gives it to him. sam adores it and wears it all the time.

-tommy totally calls him sam nook

sam: hey tommy! just building your hotel. i do need some more things for construction though... could you ship them over to me?

tommy: y'know this reminds me of a game my brother made me play over the holidays...

sam: ... uh,,,, what?

tommy: animal crossing! that's it. you're totally tom nook.

sam: alright, tommy.

-[over emails]

]Mr. Danger Careful Innit,

Could you supply more building materials?

Sincerely, Sam Nook

]Mr. Samuel Nook,

sure.

Sincerely, Tommy

-sam gets a very official hand written contract (the same one as the lore)

-he gets it and just goes with it (there’s a more real contract but tommy values his handwritten one more)

-sam signing it and tommy cheering and immediately going to text phil

sam: and... there you go! signed. :)

tommy: really??? ... YES!!! LETS GO!!! (calls phil and tells him)

-then tommy hanging up and smiling, then looking back over to sam.

tommmy: (clears his throat) um. my apologies. that was very unprofessional. thank you very much, sam.

-tubbo is the receptionist for the main hotel in the chain, (the one tommy is constantly at) but he basically becomes sort of a manager

-tommy sends him off to do multiple jobs throughout the day, and tubbo does them with only little complaint

tubbo: you know i’m not room service right?

tommy: i don’t remember asking

tubbo, already holding the room order: this isn’t my job tho-

tommy: and yet here you are, doing the job

-tommy pays him more than everyone else though, but tubbo doesn’t know that because tommy won’t let him see the usual staff paycheck

-tubbo is half a year older but his parents are constantly away on buisness trips so he is often home alone and has to take care of himself

-tommy is not good with showing his affection, the only one in his family to do so was wilbur. phil just kind of threw money at him on holidays and ignored him the rest of the time, and while techno was a lot more attentive to him, he wasn’t the best at affection either

-when tommy started making money with the hotel, (how very successful hotel chain), to show tubbo he cared he just started offering to buy him things

tommy, upon finding out tubbo likes bees: you know i could buy you a bee sanctuary if you’d like?

tubbo: tommy no-

-tubbo teaches him that money isn’t the only form of showing you care. it’s a long process

tommy: so you’re saying i shouldn’t buy sam a private engineering lab for his birthday?

tubbo: i know for a fact sam wouldn’t know how to accept such a gift and that he’d rather you close the hotel for a day and take him to play laser tag

tommy: ...okay but what if i do that and buy him a private engineering lab?

tubbo:

-the dream team are bell hoppers.

-tommy gets hate for being that young and successful

-the dream team are like “stfu i'm proud to be working for a very successful 16 yo how dare you" and go off on every rich person who says something about tommy’s age

they're still streamers. they just don't tell tommy. (tommy totally knows tho, he’s a 16 year old kid who plays minecraft and animal crossing, ofc he knows they’re video game streamers)

dream: hey tommy-

tommy: yes? is there a reason you're barging into my office?

dream: .. is that... animal crossing music? are you playing on a switch?

tommy: no!! i'm signing very important and legal documents!!! if you have nothing to say, get out!!

dream, to sapnap and george: he’s totally playing animal crossing.

-tommy makes them greet people at the doors and carry peoples bags purely because they’re famous. they don’t know this though

-they don't think tommy knows. tommy and tubbo think it’s hilarious. tommy hints it all the time that he knows but they just think he's being a kid

-quackity is on sam’s building/contracting team

-even after the hotel is built, q comes in to "check up" on the building with sam. and they "make sure nothing is going wrong with the building"

-they really just want to make sure tommy is okay under so much pressure

-wilbur totally has tubbo’s schedule and knows when tubbo’s on break, he can usually be found with tommy in tommy’s office

-wilbur will just barge in and be like “okay let’s go, you need a break”

-one time wilbur came in while sam and quackity were there

wilbur, barging in: kay, tommy, tubbo, let’s-

sam, mid lecture with tommy: you can’t keep doing this!

quackity, also scolding: you need to take a break, man.

tubbo, who noticed wilbur come in: wil! tell tommy he needs to go to bed and sleep! he hasn’t slept in twenty seven hours!

tommy, from his desk, with his head in his hands and leaning over paper work: i’m being ganged up on.

-wilbur instantly likes sam and quackity, because they care for his little brother (he totally has a rivalry with them though, he was there first, and tommy’s actual brother)

-the main hotel in the chain is sometimes used as an international meeting place for big companies and politicians

-more than once has phil or techno needed to stay for a few nights due to major meetings with powerful people

-it’s kind of awkward sometimes because tommy’s the hotel chain owner and since he’s based at the main hotel, he sometimes needs to greet the people going in for meetings

tommy: good afternoon, madam secretary

tommy: good afternoon, mister minister

tommy: good afternoon... *awkward cough* ...technoblade.

-or since he’s the ceo of a big name company, he sometimes has to attend big rich people galas that he hates

tommy: tubbo i literally hate these types of places, when can i leave, when am i allowed to to leave

tubbo, who is tommy’s plus one and moral support: dude i don’t know, i didn’t grow up rich

tommy, who grew up talking care of himself when wilbur wasn’t there: yeah well technically neither did i!

-and his father is a business man..

tommy, faking confidence and striding across the room: tubbo, i have no idea what i’m doing-

phil, from a table a few feet away, calling him over: theseus!

tommy, slowly turning around to see phil with a bunch of other rich people: fuckkkk-

-tommy makes sure everyone calls him tommy and not theseus

[in an interview]

interviewer: so theseus-

tommy: it's tommy.

interviewer: ... alright, tommy. would you like to address the rumors going around of your boyfriend?

tommy: huh??? oh, you mean tubbo? no, we're just best friends. and that's weird. i'm a minor.

interviewer: are you gay, though? we've never seen you date any women.

tommy: no, i do date women! all the time!!

-tommy being legally named "theseus watson" but calling himself "tommy innit"

-wilbur is legally “wilbur watson” but only ever goes by his stage name “wilbur soot”

-they both totally end up changing their names. legally.

-tommy saying i hate men because he just hates his father

-tommy getting scandals and controversies all the time but just by the upper class

-everyone else loves and adores him and knows he's literally just a 16 yo kid so that kind of stuff is a joke and he can say that without getting in trouble

-tommy will be in his office and tubbo will be at the front desk and sometimes tommy will just yell “TUBBOOOOO HELP MEEEEE” if his laptop crashes because Tubbo Tech

tommy: [during a meeting] oh, tubbo's clocked in for work.... TUBBOOO!

tommy: he's gonna come in here. surely. he'll go "hellœ?" surely. he'll walk in here...

tubbo: [walks in the room] hellœ?

-phil still has no idea who tubbo is

wilbur: yeah, i’m going to go check on tommy and tubbo

phil: ..the receptionist?

wilbur: ...

wilbur, internally: also your sons best friend but yeah sure, the receptionist.

-techno is lowkey fond of tubbo

-techno notices how tommy is clinging to tubbo at parties and galas all the time so he tries to get tommy to talk about him

-he likes that tubbo is there for tommy and totally resonates with the chaotic energy the two create

-sometimes when tommy can’t get tubbo in to the parties/galas, and techno is there, tommy will hang around him and steal his things

-like taking his wallet so techno will have to go back to the hotel afterwards and visit tommy

-he does it for attention. 

-tommy lives at the hotel. it’s not technically legal cause he wasn’t emancipated from his family and he’s only 16 but they’re rich so people don’t really say anything

-technically he still has a room at phil’s place, but he stays in a room at the hotel. when designing the place, he made sure to map out an area for his living space

-tubbo takes naps in his room

tubbo: i'm gonna go take a nap in the break room

quackity: there is no break room??

tubbo: yea there is. on the top floor. with the giant door.

quackity:... isn't that tommy's room???

-tubbo sometimes stays the night with tommy, when his parents have been on a business trip for over two weeks. he still goes to in-person school so he usually only stays on weekends during the school year

-tommy does online school, and forces himself to get his schoolwork for the week done over the weekend so he can focus on the hotel and other responsibilities

-he fakes having the “lmao i'm better and have more money also you don't play minecraft" mentality towards other kids and claims that’s why he does online

-it’s actually because he doesn’t have time to balance everything and he was bullied in the past so he switched to online school as soon as he started his hotel

-sometimes tubbo helps him with his classes tommy is overworked. like, in his off time. he has the passwords to tommy's computer so he just goes on it and does some of his school work

-tommy ranting to tubbo about how he hates his dad and how he said phil was gonna visit him the next day

-phil arriving and asking tubbo (because he's the receptionist) where tommy is. tubbo saying he doesn't know and that he left. even though tommy is literally in his room

-phil tries. he just doesn’t know how to parent. techno was 17 and wilbur was 15 when he adopted tommy, and he just got busy enough and forgot how to take care of a child

-tommy knows if he talks to phil, it’ll be awkward and phil will just try and buy him off (not intentionally, it’s just how business men be working, yknow)

-tommy just wants to prove himself, to both himself and phil. and hes using his hotel to do that

———————

fanart that was posted with @cb28 ‘s work

(i got permission to post this)

[jungcherie]

Everything has changed

—𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: idol!jaehyun x reader

—𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 3.2K

—𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: fluff, angst

—𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: none

—𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: When you thought everything in your life was perfect, your ex-boyfriend Jaehyun shows up to change your life path.

You were happy.

Your life right now couldn't be better, you had finished your studies and you had the job you always dreamed of. You were engaged and in a couple of months it would be the ceremony.

You were definitely happy.

Getting out of the car to enter the company at a brisk pace because you were a bit behind schedule, your secretary tried to follow your steps as you sped toward your office.

"I'm so sorry, Sophie," you said agitated "my alarm didn't sound and I wanted to kill myself when I saw what time it was when I woke up"

"Talking of personal things, you have a dress fitting tomorrow," she says with her diary and pen in hand.

Your mouth formed an 'o', you had forgotten to tell your mom and your bridesmaids, they sure had their business and now you weren't sure if they would be available to accompany you. Your day had started badly and now it was turning into one of the most overwhelming and stressful you've had lately.

"I'm also sorry you have to organize my personal schedule but I swear my head is in clouds and I need someone else to keep me from going crazy," you sighed opening the door.

Your attention was directed to a bouquet of flowers laying on your desk, along with it was a small letter. Immediately your heart melted from the sweetness, your fiancé wasn't one of making these kinds of gifts, it seems that with all this marriage he was getting much more romantic.

'Because you've always been the prettiest'

"Don't worry, it doesn't bother me, that's what I'm for" the girl behind you responds with the sweetest and most reassuring tone of voice she had. At that moment you wanted to hug her and thank her sincerely. "I don't know what I would do without you, Sophie."

Despite having various problems throughout the day, if there is something that made you smile all the time, was remembering those flowers on your desk.

"Hello, love" was the first thing you said when you got home, you gave your future husband a kiss on the head, he barely paid attention to you since he was watching television. "Hi"

"Thanks for the gift" you thanked him when you returned to the living room after freeing yourself of your clothes and your uncomfortable heels. He didn't look at you at all, and he answered you with his sight on the screen. "What gift?" he asks with a frown that was too contagious because you did it too.

"You left roses in my office along with a note" you were more than confused, you were very sure he was the one who had bought it. "I didn't leave anything, I didn't even have time to go through the company"

You were silent thinking. Who could it have been? You hoped it was your father or someone in your family, maybe your friends. A little disappointment colored your face when you heard it wasn't your fiancé who bought you those beautiful flowers that were now in a vase in your office.

A knock on the door made everyone divert their attention, voluntarily and involuntarily, the teacher in charge said something and soon, a student entered with papers in his hands. You never looked at who had entered, you were still focused on homework, and your classmates apparently went back to what they were doing, didn't seem important.

The entire class was silent, all the students wrote incessantly in their notebooks, the sound of papers and pencils being used could be heard. You stopped, to think, chewing on the pen you had, because apparently it used to help you, or was it just a bad habit that ruined your school supplies.

A few small blows on your leg made you stop biting your pen, one of your friends was drawing your attention, when you saw the others, they were super excited, gesturing towards the board.

Jung Jaehyun was talking to your teacher, the older one was signing things while he watched him do it.

Jaehyun felt a bit watched and raised his gaze, to meet your eyes. Shit, what a shame. He smiled, without showing his teeth and waved his hand to say 'hello', you returned the greeting just before your teacher returned the papers and he had to leave the classroom.

"Get over it girls" you said at lunch to your friends, who brought up your interaction with your friend while in class. "He is just a friend"

"A friend doesn't give you apples every day and worries if you eat well" you rolled your eyes when you noticed that everyone agreed with this answer.

"Are you ready?" You yelled from the other side of the door, with your dress on and an employee helping you to get it to the other room.

"Now come out, please" they were all excited, you could say they were more excited than you.

Struggling to not ruin the dress, you walked to stand in front of the mirror, your bridesmaids and your mom gasping at the sight of you using one of the possible options that you could wear to walk down the altar.

"She looks beautiful" says one of the workers to break the silence that had formed. You smiled without knowing what to say.

"Y/N, this dress screams YOU with all the forces of the universe" your sister says admiring the garment that clung to your body.

"Should I bring a veil and a bouquet to get a full view of the outfit?"

"Yes!" They all say in unison, including you.

You flexed your legs so the woman could hook the piece of cloth in your hair and then arrange it to cover your face, you took the fake bouquet of roses and turned to your mother, who was very excited to see you so pretty dressed entirely in white .

"Mom" you smiled, "save the tears for the wedding day, please" you asked when you noticed how her eyes were shining.

Each of the girls were waiting for you to make a decision, you had changed your mind like five times. You liked the rhinestones of one, the design of another, but the last one was the definitive one. You could imagine walking into church wearing that and nothing else than that.

"This is it" you mumbled looking at yourself in the mirror. "This is the one" you commented aloud, reporting.

The amount of screaming of excitement made you laugh and your head hurt a bit.

The corridors were uninhabited, your footsteps were the only thing that could be heard added to your attempt to hum a random song that crossed your mind. Suddenly you were scared when you felt a hand grab your arm and drag you quickly towards someone. Your face collided with his chest and you complained about how awkward and abrupt it was.

"Sorry" he apologizes. That voice, was Jaehyun. "Come with me" he whispers, and he starts walking at full speed, not letting you protest.

"Now, it's our turn"

"Jaehyun, we have classes" you said trying to stop him. You had asked permission to go to the bathroom and you promised to come back quickly, you were scared the teacher would suspect you, that he would send someone to look for you and find you were not where you said you were.

You didn't know where he was going, both of you were coming up the stairs, there came a point where you got tired and asked him to stop, to recover your breath. "Oh come on, we're almost there" he says, offering his hand for you to take. You stayed for a while looking at his limb in front of your eyes, this was wrong, you would get in trouble and what you least wanted was to be scolded.

However, the option Jaehyun gave you was too tempting to say no, he waited patiently, he didn't pressure you, he let you decide. You intertwined your fingers with his and you continued to climb up to the roof of the school.

"Okay so, what do you need?" you asked still holding your hands together. He sat up, waiting for you to do it too. "Nothing," he says simply "I just wanted to spend time with you"

You were speechless, why would he want to spend time with you now, when he could do it in another time such as lunch or even after school? You asked him to explain why he wouldn't do it later.

"I don't know, I saw you alone in the hall and I saw an opportunity"

Next act, he lay down to see the sky and patted his side, you obeyed him, until he put his arm under your head and pulled you closer so you could lie on his chest. Nerves and tension was what your body was made of, your heart was hammering so hard, it scared you.

"Are you sure you don't need anything?" you were surprised you didn't stutter considering how you felt. You waited for his response while listening to Jaehyun's heart beat quite fast. Was he nervous too?

"Actually," he starts off a little doubtful. "yes, I need to tell you something"

Fear joined the party, one of your hands began to shake from the uncertainty that was growing in you. "What do you need to tell me?"

"I like you"

You felt his head move, you hid your face in his chest to hide how embarassed you were, you didn't dare look him in the eye. It seemd that the feeling was mutual, you were convinced Jaehyun would only remain as a friend and that your crush with him would eventually die.

Finally, you took courage, it was now or never.

"I like you to"

Parking your car, your phone started ringing, you cursed, it was Sophie.

"I know I'm late again, just tell me what I have for today" you went straight and ran to the elevator. "Your client with contract problems is already in your office, I let him pass so he doesn't have to wait outside, I hope it doesn't bother you"

"No problem, thanks Sophie"

"And today afternoon you have an appointment to choose the cake"

"Thank you" those last words came out of your mouth upon entering your office. "Excuse me for being late, I'm already here"

In front of your window a well-dressed man was standing in a suit , you couldn't see his face, although when you heard him your whole being shuddered.

"Did you like my flowers?" he asked, his voice had changed, it was lower and deeper, it wasn't high pitched anymore like when you were in high school, his body was no longer so thin, he had molded it with exercises, he had more muscles.

Jung Jaehyun had turned into a man, simply put.

You were supposed to have gotten over it, yes, you had, but the part you didn't understand was why did his mere presence make you nervous? You weren't supposed to feel anything, not an ounce of emotions, yet it made you uncomfortable to be in the same room as him. You wanted to scape, call security, and make up any excuse to take him away, and that would be a problem, because you knew what job your ex-boyfriend had.

A problem for both.

"I found out you are engaged" he smiled approaching your desk, you tightly grabbed one of your pens, restraining yourself from throwing it at him and making a fuss. "Congratulations"

So, he was the one who had sent that present. How stupid you were, Y/N. Naive in thinking it was your friends or your own family, and in your defense, Jaehyun was an unthinkable option. Now, he had the nerve to seek you out, to disturb your mind. Of all the lawyers in this country, why you? Jaehyun wanted something, you were more than sure of that, the real challenge would be discover what was his plan.

"Yeah, thank you" you murmured barely audible, looking and playing with the ring on your finger, which he also looked at, serious. "You've changed Jaehyun" you said unconsciously noticing his facial features had hardened as well.

"And you are pretty, as always"

Your phone exploded with messages and calls while you were lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling thinking what the hell to do about everything you've heard. Should you believe them?

Someone knocked the door of your house, and without thinking you went to open it. Only having a few inches of vision, you wanted to quickly close it, but your boyfriend's foot prevented it. You didn't care, you let him in, and you turned, giving your back because you didn't want to see him or talk to him even though at some point you would have to.

"What's wrong with you? You don't answer my messages, did I do something wrong?" He asks with uncertainty and confusion, that even if you weren't looking at him, you knew what gestures his face had. Jaehyun kept distance from you. "There is nothing wrong with me" you replied, giving him a chance to realize that the mistake was in him. "So?"

The impotence and a knot in your throat began to grow, forcing you to give up everything they had told you, Jaehyun's hand on your shoulder was the straw that broke the camel's back. "You are the problem!" you yelled, now looking him straight in the eyes, all the pain you felt reflecting on them and trying to transmit what you felt to the guy in front of you. "You hid something important from me, Jae, and you more than anyone know how horrible I feel about it."

"What did I do?"

You grabbed your hair and bit your bottom lip, he must be kidding.

"You became a trainee," you whispered in agony. "I've told you how horrible is, and the amount of harassment and abuse idols are subjected to. And I know you like music too much but there are other options."

"That's the problem?" His answers were just questions, questioning everything you said. "That I have become a trainee?"

"No!" You screamed back, your throat already ached from the abrupt change of tones. "The whole school knew it, and I was the only stupid one who didn't."

That same night you didn't return home, your fiancé didnt call at all and your dinner consisted of tears and cakes of different flavors, colors and decorations. You drowned in them, remembering that morning and all the previous years you spent with Jaehyun.

Being a year older than you, he had caught your attention from the first moment and you exchanged glances whenever you could. Once, he had approached you because one of your buckles had fallen off and he had taken the opportunity to talk and start a conversation, which lasted nothing because the classes started a minute later.

You had confessed to each other for months on the school rooftop after months of talking and sharing gifts, right there, a relationship had begun, full of affection and laughter.

A perfect relationship, like the one everyone dreamed of.

The hardest part wasn't leaving him, because you knew that as a trainee he couldn't have a relationship and for his safety it was better to break up with him. The hardest part was trying to erase him from your mind, because everything reminded you of him. Not to mention when he debuted in his group and every February 14 there were giant posters with his face wishing him happy birthday.

Your friends asked you if you were still dating, and even strange people on the streets would come up and ask you if you were the supposed ex-girlfriend. You denied, denied and denied, telling them you didn't know him or you had seen him a few times in the same school you both attended.

Jung Jaehyun was like a ghost that haunted you, and you couldn't free yourself from him.

But somehow you did, you met your future husband, you finished college, and soon, you found yourself locked in a room most of the day, working.

Just when everything is going great, he has to show up to move sky and earth and leave you more disoriented and stressed than usual.

You need more acid cake to equalize the acidity of this situation.

Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes to go before you could enter the giant doors of the church, accompanied by your dad, dressed in white, with something borrowed, something new, something blue and something old. All the guests were waiting eagerly for you, and all you did was remember what Jaehyun told you the last time you met in your office.

"They told me that your boyfriend is boring and insipid, what a joke you are interested in men like that when you are cheerful and funny," he pauses and sighs, you couldn't speak, you didn't want to fight, besides, you didn't know what to say. "I know you still love me, Y/N, it shows. You've made a lifetime of lies and you're with someone you can't love. I assure you, when you get home and kiss him, my image will appear in your mind... " He got up from his seat across from you, and walked to the door. "Don't fall for that lie, our love is still standing, and I swear, if you get married on your wedding day, I will tell your husband that his wife is mine, and only mine"

"Y/N" your dad's voice takes you out of your thoughts. "Are you sure you want to do this? We still have time to run away" he said jokingly, and you cracked a laugh at the crazy idea that came out of his mouth. "I'm sure" you said.

"It's time to go"

The man next to you offered his arm with a smile and you gladly accepted. When opening the doors, everyone was left with their mouths open to see you so beautiful, you were internally thinking about not tripping over your heels.

He was there, waiting for you at the altar, with his best man and your bridesmaids, dressed in the same color. The joy you felt was inexplicable. Once you were there, you relaxed.

"We are here..."

You looked at your fiancé in front of you and then you looked at all the guests, your mom to the point of tears, your dad, uncles, cousins. Until you got to the back, a man in a mask sitting in the corner. You recognize his eyebrows, you recognize his eyes, you haven't invited him.

Why had Jaehyun showed up to your wedding?

Again, his last words began to ring in your head, completely distracting you from what the priest was saying. You were the one who wanted to cry right now, your hands started to sweat and anxiety took over your body without you wanting it. Do it or not do it?

You looked at your boyfriend and you just said it. "Sorry, I can't do it" leaving him confused not only him, but also dozens of people who became witnesses of your sudden escape, because there was someone who made you doubt about this marriage.

And Jung Jaehyun was that someone.

[jackoshadows]

A fascinating and educational twitter thread about how Prohibition helped Botswana become one of the most stable countries in Africa. 

For decades since its independence in 1966, Botswana was an island of black sovereignty & stability between apartheid South Africa and white-supremacist Rhodesia. Some say it was the inspiration for #Wakanda in the movie #BlackPanther.  

In southern Africa as the world over, the Brits and European colonists ran the EXACT SAME PLAYBOOK of alco-colonization.

Read more at the link

Step 1: Introduce hard liquors--industrial distillates--to native populations with no experience with drinks of such mind-bending potency.  4/ Step 2: Clutch their pearls, and recoil in horror at the drunkenness and violence that predictably occurs within the native community and against white colonizers and liquor purveyors. In Africa, they called it the “black peril.”

Step 3: Cite that drunkenness as evidence of natives’ inability to be “civilized,” thus justifying white political domination over them. Africa, Asia, North America, even Ireland--everywhere it was the same pattern. See also: opium in China.

Hard liquor (whiskey, rum, gin, vodka, schnapps, etc.) was the perfect tool of exploitation. Highly potent. Concentrated. Easy to transport. Highly addictive. Didn’t spoil like fermented brews. Easy to make. Incredibly lucrative.

European colonizers would share liquor as a gesture of goodwill, and then once the alcoholic stupor set in, get tribal leaders to scrawl an “X” and sign-away their land, resources, and even people.  8/ More importantly, promoting widespread addiction to liquor made indigenous populations reliant on the colonists, just as junkies rely on drug dealers. Again, see also: opium in China, and two Opium Wars resisting it.  

What did natives have that colonists wanted? Ivory, food, furs, ivory, exotic ostrich feathers, rubber, ivory... the land and the minerals in it, and everything living on it. Also: ivory. And finally, the natives themselves were commodities: as labor or slaves.

If you’re a European trader & the locals trade ivory or furs for (say) your iron kettle, the entire village can use that for 20 years. Blankets might last 5 years before they need to trade with you again. There’s little demand for your wares. Or you. But if you can hook the community on booze that ONLY YOU supply, they’ll have to come back to you all. the. time. Now you’re indispensable. Addiction is self-renewing demand. Becoming the sole drug dealer to a community of addicts is ridiculously profitable. Need proof? Riddle me this: What was the first factory on the continent of Africa? Of course, Africa is rich in every resource imaginable: minerals, gems, ivory, rubber, oil, cocoa, fruit and timber that could be processed into goods.  

Here it is. In 1881, the Dutch Transvaal government granted a monopoly on distilled brandy to the Hatherley Distillery near Pretoria. The company was called “De Eerste Fabriken”--the First Factory. It wasn't first because the white settlers drank it. They largely didn’t.

Instead, with the discovery of gold & diamonds, white mine-owners needed black labor. They lured workers to the mines with promises of liquor, knowing if they had large booze debts to pay back, tribesmen would have to work longer, rather than returning to their village.  

(South African Breweries--today the world’s largest brewer--was founded soon thereafter to provide British-style beer to a white clientele, while the cheap liquor from Hatherley was reserved for indenturing black workers.)  

Consequently, every native leader worth his salt was a prohibitionist--defending his people against the “white man’s wicked water.” King Moshoeshoe in Lesotho. Chief Waterboer in Griqualand. Tembu headman Mankai Renga & hundreds more. In Africa as around the globe, temperance and prohibitionism became the banner for subaltern sovereignty against the white colonial junkiemaker.

Which brings us back to Botswana. Or Bechuanaland, as it was then known. It had long been ruled by tribal chiefs, led by Bamangwato King Khama III ("the Great"), who’d allied with the British against the Dutch Boers.

Three months after ascending the throne in 1873, he informed all white traders on his territory that trading liquor w/ his people was now prohibited. “If, when you give one another a drink, you turn around and give it to my people also, I shall regard you as blameworthy.”  Europeans scoffed & kept selling--until Khama expelled them all: “I am black and am chief of my own country. When you white men rule then you will do as you like. At present I rule, and I shall maintain my laws which you insult and despise.” Prohibition was sovereignty.   “There are 3 things which distress me—war, selling people, and drink,” Khama wrote the British in 1876, asking the Queen’s protection. “All these I shall find in the Boers.”

By 1884, Bechuanaland was British protectorate, respecting Khama’s prohibition.   Meanwhile the 1890s, Britain’s Cape Colony was dominated by the notorious Cecil Rhodes: founder of the De Beers diamond syndicate, quintessential imperialist and unapologetic white supremacist.

“I contend that we are the finest race in the world and that the more of the world we inhabit the better it is for the human race,” Rhodes wrote. “Africa is still lying ready for us--it is our duty to take it.”   In 1889, Rhodes organized his mining interests into the chartered British South Africa Company (BSAC), which had its own government and army. In 1890, he also became Prime Minister of the Cape Colony.   In the First Matabele War (1893-94), 750 BSAC “police” with machine guns killed over 10,000 Matabele spearmen, bringing Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) under Company control. Khama’s Tswana tribesmen served on the side of the Company.

According to BSAC shareholder reports, one of the first items of business wherever the Company set-up control was to farm-out the liquor trade to white settlers. Profits are profits, regardless of prohibition promises.   Rhodes famously dreamed of building a trans-African railroad connecting Cape Town to Cairo... which meant taking Bechuanaland, even though Khama was regaled as a loyal British ally.

From 1892-95, the conniving Rhodes used every administrative trick possible to place Khama’s Bechuanaland Protectorate under the sovereignty of the Company, but was stymied either by Khama or the Colonial Office in London.   By 1895, Khama had enough. Together w/ fellow chiefs Bathoen and Sebele, he voyaged to London to petition Queen Victoria’s government to keep Bechuanaland out of Rhodes’ grasp.

“The two points on which the natives seem to be apprehensive,” the Imperial Secretary in Cape Town telegraphed London, “are the questions of land and liquor.”   The 3 kings arrived in September 1895, and were supposed to meet with Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain. But he--like the rest of the Queen’s government--had left for their annual vacations until November.   “I have for years tried to abolish the use of strong liquors in my country, and prevent the importation of European drinks,” Khama told the London press, lamenting that his efforts “should be hampered by agitation in my country and outside it.”   While awaiting for an audience with Chamberlain or Queen Victoria, Khama, Sebele and Bathoen toured the width and breadth of the British Isles, winning British public opinion to the side of their temperance and sovereignty. 

The Review of Reviews reprinted Khama’s plea that “you, O British people, will not paralyse my efforts by compelling me to submit to the invasion of my country by the trader with his poisonous liquors.”   If Britain were to ignore Khama’s calls for help, the papers editorialized, then the British people “should stand condemned as the most God-forsaken set of canting hypocrites on the whole round earth.”   Following the kings‘ temperance visits, a flood of popular petitions inundated the Colonial Office from across the country, strenuously opposing giving Bechuanaland over to Rhodes‘ Company.   Prior to the meeting, the kings plead their case to Chamberlain: “We fear the Company because we think they will take our land and sell it to others. We fear that they will fill our country with liquor shops, as they have Bulawayo.”

The kings offered concessions and the payment of additional poll taxes, if London would only delay the inevitable annexation by Rhodes’ Company by 10 years. “Do not let them bring liquor into our country to kill our people speedily.” 

On Nov. 6, 1895, Chamberlain finally met with the chiefs to dictate terms. The chiefs would pay a hut tax and sacrifice a strip of land for Rhodes‘ railway in exchange for maintaining their sovereignty as a protectorate.   “White man’s strong drink shall not be brought for sale into the country, and those who attempt to deal in it or give it away to black men will be punished. No new liquor license shall be issued, and no existing liquor license shall be renewed,” Chamberlain declared. 

Weeks later, Chamberlain escorted the Chiefs to Windsor castle for an audience with “the Great White Queen” herself, Queen Victoria, who confirmed the arrangements that Chamberlain had made.   “The sale of strong drink shall be prohibited in your country &those who attempt to supply it shall be severely punished,” the Queen declared. “I feel strongly in this matter, & am glad to see that the chiefs have determined to keep so great a curse from the people.”   Pleased, though unaware of British protocols, Sebele told the press: “Her Majesty if a very charming old lady... But I had no idea that she was so short and stout... I shall go back home contented.” They did.   Far less pleased was Cecil Rhodes, who telegraphed London: “I do object to being beaten by three canting natives especially on the score of temperance.”

And then: “IT IS HUMILIATING TO BE UTTERLY BEATEN BY THESE NI***RS.” 

Bechuanaland’s stay of execution may have been short lived, were it not for what happened next. Upon returning to Bechuanaland, Khama met Sir Leander Starr Jameson, who was leading a BSAC military force.  Jameson’s orders were to instigate an insurrection across the border in the Dutch Transvaal, whipping-up British sympathizers and lead to an all-out British invasion to topple the rival Dutch Boers.  But in a crowning irony, Jameson’s Raid was doomed by liquor. To take the Dutch by surprise, the British would cut the telegraph lines so Boer outposts couldn’t sound the alarm of invasion.  Instead of cutting the telegraph lines, a drunken British soldier instead cut a farmer’s wire fence. The Dutch anticipated and tracked the whole raid, ambushed and decimated the attackers & imprisoned Rhodes’ brother Frank.

London condemned Rhodes‘ reckless adventurism, forcing him to step down from the BSAC in disgrace. The imperial threat to Bechuanaland’s sovereignty and sobriety was over.  The British honored Khama’s prohibition & sovereignty right through Botswana’s independence in 1966. Today the bronze Three Dikgosi Monument honoring Khama, Bathoen & Sebele is the most visited destination in the 🇧🇼 capital of Gaborone.

Were it not for their 1895 temperance mission to Britain, what is today Botswana would’ve long been absorbed into either Britain’s Cape Colony (now South Africa) or Rhodesia (Zimbabwe)--much to their people’s detriment--instead of becoming its own independent country.   Without prohibition, there’d be no Botswana. And in honor of their Founding Fathers, Botswana emblazoned the picture of the chiefs‘ 1895 temperance mission to London on their 100 Pula note.

HEY! If you liked this liquor-politics thread, may I humbly suggest checking-out my new “Smashing the Liquor Machine: A Global History of Prohibition” book, which contains literally dozens of them. 

[wackybuddiemewbs]

Buddie Moodboard - Erin Brockovich AU

AKA another AU absolutely no one asked (or should have asked) for. And yet, here we are, peeps. Ngl, I totally could have seen that the other way around as well (my head's a strange place, you should be aware by now). But I settled for this one. (*/ω＼*)

Eddie Diaz is out of his luck. First he gets into a car accident, then he loses the court case, even though his lawyer promised him they'd get that pompous ass who just ran him over, and then he loses his job. As a single parent to a child with a disability, that's living the dream, isn't it? Not that this is going to stop Eddie. He'll do whatever it takes to be there for Christopher.

So when he pressures his former lawyer Bobby Nash to take him on as a secretary, Eddie doesn't much care. He needs to do this for his son. Thankfully, after some discussion, Bobby relents, despite Eddie lacking a background in the legal field. While this may solve one problem, it still leaves a very long list, a list he does not have the money to pay for.

Because he broke with his family and left without a trace ever since his wife left him, Eddie has no security network and has to rely on people he'd normally not entrust the most important thing in his life to. But it's either that or losing the job, the house, and the money to pay for the kid's treatments.

If all of that wasn't bad enough, his new neighbor Buck proves to just the kind of self-absorbed wannabe-biker Eddie has absolutely no patience for. Even less so because Bobby allowed him to look into a case that sparked his interest.

Eddie is shocked when he comes home from a day investigating what he assumes to be a big case involving pumping hazardous water into a city's water supply: Christopher is gone. And so is the babysitter. He is that close to calling police when he finds Christopher chilling in his neighbor's backyard, making burgers.

When Eddie demands to know what the hell the man was thinking, just taking his son out for lunch, Buck informs him that the babysitter left without further notice and since he knew Eddie was out, he took care of the kid.

A quick apology and an admittedly rather decent barbecue later, Buck offers to babysit Christopher for Eddie. As a construction worker, he is currently not in for another job for at least another two months. While reluctant about it, Eddie eventually agrees. Buck can't be worse than the babysitter he had, right?

To gather more information, Eddie heads out to some official agencies to take a look at the archives. But it seems that those are friends of the company Eddie is preparing a case against. Disappointed, he tells Buck about the problems he's facing, very much surprised when Buck tells him that he'll handle it.

The next day, Eddie and Buck head to the agency in question together. Eddie is still irritated not to see Buck in his typical biker wear but in actual clothes, clean-shaven and all. Another twenty minutes later of waiting by Buck's bike, the guy almost waltzes out of the office, waving the papers Eddie couldn't get at his face.

Apparently, flirting with the guy seemingly did the trick. And for some reason, Eddie is beyond pissed about Buck is having fun, musing about going out for drinks with the guy.

The irritation fades somewhat when Buck reveals he found some more possibly incriminating evidence. Turns out Buck is a fine researcher, so long it is something that sparks his interest. Thus, Eddie enlists him to gather some more information and research whatever Buck finds interesting. And Buck happily agrees - under the condition that Eddie takes him out for a drink once this is dealt with.

Eddie finally feels like he's gaining some higher ground when it comes to the case, only to have a rough awakening when Bobby orders him to the office and tells him that he's fired. Eddie doesn't know what's going on. He told Bobby, but he seemingly misunderstood what he was doing and assumed Eddie slacked off his duties. He is all the more thankful for Buck offering to pay his former boss a visit to tell him how he bust his ass, working the case.

He is more than surprised to have Bobby knock on his door a couple of days later, coming with peace offerings, i.e. self-made food. The two sit down and Bobby genuinely apologizes for the misunderstanding and wants to rehire Eddie. Having taken some notes from Buck, Eddie agrees, under the condition that he is given a raise - and that Buck can come in for research or whatever else, no questions asked. Bobby agrees, and lets him know that he will set his whole team on it.

And so, the team digs their nails into this case, working it from all kinds of angles to figure out just what is going on with this company and the polluted water.

Though that is not the only change in Eddie's life. The biggest change proves to be having a partner in his life, sticking with him through all of it. Christopher absolutely adores Buck and loves spending time with him. And the truth is? Eddie loves spending time with Buck also. It's easy talking to him, even about the things that are not easy to talk about. Even more so because Buck doesn't shy away from sharing things with Eddie he knows must be hard to say out loud.

How Buck used to be a firefighter until an accident left him heavily injured and on blood thinners. How he sued the captain and the city to get his job back, after his captain tried to keep him from coming back. Because he found Buck a burden to the rest of the team. How he didn't take the millions he could have gotten, just to be a firefighter again. Only to be shunned by his colleagues, and then to nearly die on a job when he developed an embolism and no one seemed to care whether he made it out alive.

Buck quit the job after that, as much as it pained him, because he didn't want someone else to have to pay the prize for his condition. He started travelling again, with a motorcycle this time, and keeps afloat with some odd jobs at construction sites.

And now babysitting the best kid in the world, as he will insist.

It isn't much later that the two wind up in bed together. And for some time, it seems like the universe is finally on their side for a change.

Things continue to take bad turns, not just on the case but also in private. Tensions rise between Buck and Eddie as they wrestle with jobs, responsibilities, and their fear of being abandoned. Even though that exact fear may be the reason why they will soon find themselves alone, or will it?

Find more moodboards here.

[mrsalwayswrite]

Murder Is Not On The Schedule (Ron Speirs x Reader)

So this is loosely based on a prompt I found on Pinterest about murder not being on today’s schedule and immediately thought SPEIRS! I also wasn’t feeling great this week so I wanted to write something lighthearted...ya know? So this is what my brain came up with. 

Warnings: some swearing, sexual tension (cuz i can’t seem to write Speirs without it...sorry?), my poor attempts at humor

Words:2500

Tag List: @happyveday​ @sydney-m​ @saritanotserena​

  The sound of mortars and 88s followed me as I walked into the room being used for Captain Speirs' office in Haguenau. Those same sounds should be terrifying but no one flinched anymore thanks to Bastogne. The office was in the back of Easy HQ, looking towards the river. All the walls and windows were still intact, even if the place was dreary and drafty, it fulfilled its purpose. 

 Speirs, who had been staring out the window in parade rest, turned around to lean back against the window and looked over at me. "Lip in bed?"

 "Yeah. Finally convinced him that I could handle it." I dropped down onto one of the two chairs. Both chairs were placed at the table which occupied the center of the room. 

 Lipton was an admirable man, second only to Winters himself. But Christ Almighty, he had to be the worst patient with his perpetual refusal to rest. I did not envy any of the medics who were diligently trying to take care of him. It pretty much took both myself and Luz to drag him to one of the cots in the back and me swearing in blood that if I needed help, I would find him. 

 And if I threatened him a little, no one needs to know, right?

 "Well, I appreciate you stepping up and taking over for Lipton while he is sick."

 I shrugged, already looking at all the paperwork spread out on the table. "He kept us together while in Bastogne. It's the least I can do. Besides, I used to be a secretary before joining up. It's not a problem."

 "Lucky us." He murmured, distractedly. One of his hands tapped a repetitive pattern on his thigh as he seemed to stare at nothing. 

 I knew there was to be a patrol tonight. A prisoner snatch. From what little I had overheard and observed, it weighed heavily on both Lipton and Speirs. My guess was all the names had not been chosen yet on who had to go. Glancing at Speirs, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, repetitive tapping, biting just the inside corner of his lip...he was working on the list in his head. 

 I could not help it as my eyes traced his jawline...his messy hair that looked so damn soft...those dark eyes that pierce your soul but also lit up like a beacon when amused. He looked like a rugged, dirty Greek god with an affinity for bloodlust. Even his hands looked perfect to hold my--

 You are here to help. NOT OGLE YOUR CO! 

 Even if he is pretty.

 Handsome?

 Gorgeous?

 Wet dream worthy?

 Whoa! Too much. Pull up, you buffoon! 

 With all my willpower, I turned back to focus on organizing the reports on the table and checking to make sure we had enough paper. Who knew the army used so much paperwork? Everything had to be documented. I could see why it seemed Winters never left his office...or Nixon. Without Lipton's help, I doubted Speirs would ever see his men. I absent-mindedly wondered if I should offer to help out more often. 

 Obviously out of the goodness of my heart and not to ogle the handsome devil currently before me. 

 Nope. 

 Several minutes later, there was a knock on the door. After Speirs bid them enter, two replacements stepped into the room. Their ODs were clean, helmets practically sparkled in the sunlight, eagerness written all over their faces. They did not carry the weariness from the Ardennes on their shoulders. They still looked like boys wanting to play soldier with the other neighborhood kids. All I could figure was they had gotten dropped off with the other soldiers returning from the hospital. 

 Both rapidly saluted Speirs, who only lazily saluted in response, still leaning against the window. 

 "Captain, sir." The shorter of the two spoke first, practically bouncing on his toes. "We were wondering if we'd see some action soon."

 The other one chimed in, a proud smile exaggerating his chubby cheeks. "Yeah, we heard a rumor there's a patrol. Sir, we're ready to get our rifles dirty by killing Krauts, sir."

 Christ. These two are greener than the Jolly Green Giant. 

 I quickly muffled a snort by turning it into a cough. It must have not been as subtle as I hoped with the side-eye Speirs gave me. 

 Speirs sighed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Your platoon leader will let you know. I suggest you head back to your OP… and try not to get hit by mortars or snipers on your way there."

 The two glanced at one another, seeming to remember that Nazis were just as likely to kill them. A necessary reminder. After another round of salutes, they hurried out and closed the door behind them.

 "Jesus Christ! If I hear those two asking about killing Krauts again, I'll shoot them both…. And murder wasn't on my agenda today."

 "Murder usually isn't on anyone's agenda." I murmured, making notes on a supply list. We definitely needed more ammo...and chocolate bars. There might be a mutiny if we did not receive more chocolate bars and cigarettes. 

 "No, it's on mine. Just not until Thursday."

 Wait….

 ...What?

 My head whipped up to stare at Speirs. I honestly was unsure if he was joking or serious. I mean, hell, we all knew the rumors about him. With his signature serious expression, he held my gaze, as if waiting for me to question him. I chose not to. Really, I believed him. He would be the one to throw a grenade near his men to get them to pay attention. Or get bored and sneak into the enemy's camp to steal their rifles or something just to mess with them.  

 Then I saw the twitch of his lips, forcing back a smile. 

 At that I laughed, shaking my head. "No offense, sir, but I think we need to find something better for you to do with your time."

 "Oh?" He tipped his head slightly, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Like what?" 

 Me.

 Shit. Don't say that aloud. 

 "Mmm…" I tapped my lip with my finger, pretending to think about it. "Preferably something other than terrorizing your men."

 "Ah, but it's fun. You should join me."

 I shook my head, not even trying to suppress the indulgent smile on my face. What had my life become? Here I was joking with CAPTAIN SPEIRS about committing murder…. for fun? Later I should question my sanity, but right now, I was more than amused to see him in this new lightheartedness. I had only ever seen him always stoic, poised, ready for anything in war. I found this new side of him only increased his attractiveness. 

 Damn it. 

 "What are you doing on Thursday?" He probed, still watching me with a hawk-like gaze. 

 I shrugged my shoulders, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. If he was going to joke around, I felt I could return the favor. "Maybe I'm going on a date."

 "With who?"

 "Whoever can afford me, I guess."

 He laughed, widening my own smile. I had never heard him laugh before, and if I could admit it to myself, the world was missing out without that sound. He shoved off the window, to come sit on the corner of the table, one leg dangling off the side, almost touching the chair I sat on. "And what would a date with you consist of?"

 I thought back to before the war. Back before I was weighed down by pain and death. What my life had once entailed. "An elegant dinner at the best restaurant around. Pictures or dancing afterwards. I'm not picky. Then after all that, if I had a very good time, I might be tempted to bring him back to my apartment for some late-night drinks and, well, we'd see where it went from there. But don't tell my mother that last part."

 "Sounds like you've got it all planned out."

 "I'm a lady who knows what she wants."

 "Mmm…" He ran a hand over the stubble growing on his jaw. "I need to change my schedule for Thursday now."

 This information you are trying to process does not compute. Please try again.

 "You taking me out on the date?" I teased back, leaning back slightly in my chair. Mentally, I prepared for him to make a joke about killing whomever was taking me out for the company's sake or something along those lines, since the idea of him having interest in me was preposterous. 

 In one swift move, he shifted over so his leg was between mine allowing him to lean forward and hover over me. The air between us suddenly felt hot compared to the rest of the room. Those dark eyes scanned me, as if slowly undressing me with both the utmost care but also unbridled passion. "Yes. Though we might have to skip with the elegant dinner. I'll share the better parts of the K rations. We also might need to skip the pictures or dancing. But I am positive I can steal some of Nixon's Vat 69 and we can go straight to the late-night drinks. Of course, I'll be a gentleman and let the lady decide what happens after." He finished with a cocky wink at me. 

 Holy mother of-

 I was not ready for that. 

 I could only stare at him for a long moment. My body practically throbbed for him with the image he painted in my mind. The way his voice became so smooth and sensual. The peak of his tongue as he quickly licked his lips before speaking. Now he sat there, his leg dangling between mine, keeping me glued to my seat. Subtly, I tried to press my thighs together to alleviate some of the pressure building. Not that it helped with his intense gaze making my heart beat faster and his lazy smile telling me he KNEW the effect he was having on me. 

 Act cool. 

 Act cool! 

 Play it off! 

 I leaned forward, smirking. "Do you always offer to take your executive officers out on a date? If so, I can see why Lipton likes you so much."

 He chuckled, eyes alluring and heated. "No, not all of them. Just the ones that I've been admiring for some time." 

 Well shit. 

 Abort. 

 Abort! 

 Don't you dare, you've dreamed about this man before. Ride it out, you coward! 

 I blinked in surprise but before I could respond, he had already made his move. He leaned forward and braced his hands on the arms of my chair, hovering over me. His face now was only inches from mine. I was positive he could hear how fast my heart was beating. My lips parted, trying to encourage breath into my lungs that were struggling to send oxygen to my brain. His eyes drifted down to my lips and lingered there. As if in compliance, my own eyes glanced at his lips, how soft they looked, even slightly chapped still from our time in Bastogne. His hands slid ever so slowly further up the arms of the chair, stopping just next to my elbows. Now I could see the faint lines around his eyes. His hair slipped forward, calling my eyes upward. I struggled to not reach forward and touch it. To see how it felt with my fingers running through it. A soft chuckle had my eyes snapped back to his, as he watched me with an intensity that border-lined frightening and lascivious. 

 I gulped. "Captain Speirs…"

 "No," he just barely ran the tip of his nose over the shell of my ear. His hot breath caressed my skin. My eyes fluttered closed on their own accord; my body unable to handle the pleasurable sensation. He whispered into my ear, voice fully commanding and salacious. "No, you call me Ron when we're alone."

 Mission control. We are going down. I repeat we are going down in flames! 

 My underwear was not prepared for this! 

 "Ron." I liked the way his name rolled off my lips. If the quiet, sharp inhale from him said anyway, he liked the way it sounded too. Tilting my head just the slightest, I could look up into those dark, smoldering eyes. Our lips though...I could taste his breath on my tongue. I could feel the warmth from his skin radiating onto mine, turning me into a puddle of desire.

 Oh God, he smelled like everything that is beautifully masculine. Not the nasty, sweaty teenage boy but the pheromones that make your ovaries take notice and your uterus demands for something to be done with it. How was that possible? 

 "I'll...um, I'll make sure to add this to your schedule on Thursday." I whispered, almost able to feel his lips ghost over mine as my lips formed each word. 

 "Excellent."

 His hand trailed up my arm, setting fire to my nerves. Gently, he wrapped it around the base of my throat, his thumb rubbing a pattern into my skin. The whole time our eyes remained locked. His pupils dilated, desire coloring them and I wondered if mine looked the same. The small amount of air between us was thick with tension and salacity. My body screamed for me to drag him down and crash our lips together. To see if he tasted as good as he looked. My hands were stuck in my lap though. It felt like we were in a stalemate, unable to move forward, to take that next step.

 If something does not happen, I swear I will spontaneously combust! 

 Then someone knocked on the closed door. 

 .

 .

 .

 Dear universe. That was NOT what I meant! 

 With a sigh, he slipped his hand up to rub his thumb along my bottom lip for the briefest of seconds. I swear the regret coursing through my veins, I could see mirrored in his eyes. Ever so slowly he retracted his hand and leaned back, but stayed on the edge of his desk, his leg still between mine. 

 "Enter." He called out, only turning his heavy gaze from mine when the person stepped through. 

 First Sergeant Talbert walked in, opening his mouth then hesitated for a second as his eyes seemed to take in but not fully comprehend the scene before him. "Um, sir, there's a couple of replacements asking about a patrol…"

 "Oh, for fuck's sake!"

 I laughed at Speirs' pained expression. Quickly, I jumped to my feet and brazenly patted his chest, my hand lingering on the feel under my palm. "I'll take care of it before murder happens."

 "That's not till Thursday." He looked at me with a wry grin. His hand subtly reached forward to skim my hip before grabbing the edge of the table. 

 "Remember, you're busy now. Murder has to wait."

 "Fine. Friday it is then."

 "If you have the energy after." I winked at him. I only caught a glimpse of the hunger that flooded his eyes before I turned on my heels and headed out the door. The whole way out I could feel his heated gaze on my back, like his fingers were trailing down my spine. I shivered in anticipation for what it would really feel like. 

 I'll make sure he doesn't have the energy to terrorize Easy… I'm definitely doing this for their sakes… completely self-sacrificing… yep, I won't enjoy this at all. 

[wordsfromthesol]

Sleep Deprived

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: @zphilophobiaz Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary:  Tim accidentally falls asleep in the wrong apartment. That apartment happens to be yours, and it happens to be on your first day at your new job. Warnings: Language maybe? Word Count: 1.6k

It was the first day of your new job, your new job at Wayne Enterprises. Unfortunately, this meant you had to actually start waking up early. When the alarm went off at 5:30 in the morning you absolutely dreaded leaving your warm bed, but it was your first day and you were determined to make a good impression. Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you slowly pushed yourself up and shuffled into the bathroom. Forty-five minutes later you came out and nearly fell to the floor in shock upon noticing a figure in your bed. Stalking closer you noticed they had a mask on…and was that a cape? After staring for a solid minute and a half you finally recognized the emblem, Red Robin, one of the infamous vigilantes of Gotham. You had only been in Gotham a week, was this normal? Shaking the thoughts from your mind you squinted through the dark and made your way to your closet. Selecting an outfit you tip-toed into the living room and got dressed. You had planned to actually make breakfast, but you supposed you had time to stop somewhere. Jotting down a quick note for the hero, you quietly went back into the room and placed it on the nightstand before leaving.

**

Tim's eyes fluttered before shooting open. His mind went into panic mode, quickly surveying the area and finding a note on the nightstand.  

Red Robin,

I think you stumbled into my apartment by accident, but I'm sure keeping Gotham safe takes quite a toll. Since you’re a hero, I'm hoping you won't steal any of my stuff. Feel free to help yourself to any coffee.

Tim made his way to the window. "This isn't even close to my apartment." He mumbled to himself just as his phone rang.

"Dick?"

"Where the hell are you?"

"I…uh…working."

"At an apartment building half a mile from yours?"

"Why do you -- nevermind. I guess I slept here." Tim stopped trying to keep up the façade.

"DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND I DON'T KNOW ABOUT?!" Dick's voice went up two octaves as he screamed across the phone line.

"Geez, calm down Dick. No, I don't have a girlfriend. I honestly don't know how I ended up here. I was patrolling late last night --"

Dick cut him off, "When was the last time you slept? Not including this morning." He quickly added the qualifying statement.

"Three days…" Tim mumbled, knowing he was about to get an ear full from his brother.

"You can't keep doing this Tim. You're going to get yourself hurt."

"I know, okay." The statement long and drawn out. "I didn't mean to, I just get hyper fixated…"

"You're taking off tonight. From patrol and case work. And you better figure out how to thank that poor girl."

Tim knew it was pointless arguing with him and relented before hanging up the phone. At least now he could catch up on some WE work these next few days.

**

You quickly learned from your new coworkers that heroes stumbling into random apartments for a nap was not a normal occurrence in Gotham. You were just lucky…according to them. When you got back the mysterious figure had left. Though it would've been more surprising if he was still there.

When your alarm went off the next morning, you proceeded to the bathroom as usual. Only this time when you were done, your head hesitantly peaked around the corner, half expecting the hero to be in your bed once again. He wasn't. Slightly disheartened, you made your way to the WE building and went straight to research and development, hoping to avoid the morning gossip.

"Oh, Y/N! You're here. Can you run this up to Mr. Drake's office?" Your supervisor asked before you could step through the door.

"You…you mean like…the CEO, Mr. Drake?"

She could hear the wavering in your voice and quickly consoled you, "Don't worry. He's never here. More of a night owl I suppose. Just set it on his desk."

"Okay…" You were still hesitant, but couldn't exactly turn her down on your second day of work. Once you got to his office, his secretary didn't bother looking up. They just waved you along. Just as you set the folder on his desk, you heard the door opening. "Shit." You mumbled, praying that it wasn't the CEO.

"You must be Y/N." The voice was clear and crisp behind you. You spun around to see Timothy Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, standing before you.

"Uh…yeah. You know who I am?"

"Heh, well I do run the company."

"But I just started yesterday. I'm nobody."

"Don't be ridiculous. What did you bring?" Tim motioned towards the folder on his desk beside you.

"A proposal from Sarah. I think it's some new circuit board."

"Well don't try to sell me on it." Tim could hear the lack of enthusiasm in your voice, not that you were trying to hide it.

"Sorry…not my thing I guess." You tried to play off the awkwardness…it did not work.

"You work under her, don't you?" Tim furrowed his brows as he stalked over and grabbed the folder, slowly thumbing through the papers.

"Yeah." You wanted to rant more, but you didn't think it was appropriate. It was your second day, and though the work didn't interest you, Wayne Enterprises did. This was how you could get your foot in the door. How you could make a difference in the world.

"Well, then what is your thing?" Tim was determined to get the answers he wanted. After all, he had to have some way to repay you for letting him crash uninvited at your apartment. And not waking him or telling the world that he was there.

"Honestly…" You hesitated to complain about your brand new job, but something about Tim felt familiar and safe. "I want to develop technology that makes a difference, that helps people. The projects I've seen seem completely money driven, which I understand. But in Gotham we have so much to look out for. Think about a chemical to counterattack Poison Ivy's spell or a ballistics vest you can comfortably wear under anything…" You drifted off into your thoughts until you realized you had been ranting for almost fifteen minutes. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound ungrateful for this --" Tim cut you off.

"No. I think we may have placed you in the wrong division. I want you to meet someone."

**

"I figured it out." Tim proudly announced as he sauntered into the Batcave, nodding toward Dick sitting at the computer.

"Figured out how to convince me to let you patrol tonight? Because the answer is no." Dick didn't even bother to look up. Mainly because he didn't want to be persuaded otherwise.

"No. You were right, I needed time. But the girl. Y/N."

"Your new girlfriend…" Dick wagged his eyes as he spun around to face his brother.

Tim rolled his eyes and attempted to ignored his older brother's comment. "She's the new WE employee. I'm moving her from our standard R&D department." Dick arched his eyebrows, still unsure where Tim was going with this. "She's going to be working with Lucius."

"And you think that's a good idea?"

"Yes. I fully checked her out and I think her work will benefit us more than it will WE."

"So you going to officially introduce yourself then?"

"Yes," Tim looked suspiciously at the mischievous glare in Dick's eyes before quickly adding, "But not for that reason!"

"Hmm" Dick spun back around towards the computer.  

"Don't you dare tell Jason about this!" Tim screamed as he bolted up the stairs.

**

The next day you stood in awe once more as your new boss, Lucius Fox, was showing you more of the lab. There was technology here that you didn't even think existed. That's when it all clicked, this was tech used by superheroes. Wayne Enterprises supplied tech to the Justice League, Titans, Outsiders…all the superhero groups you could think of had displayed various pieces you now recognized around the lab. Your jaw finally dropped open as you watched Red Robin himself saunter down the hallway.

"Lucius! I heard you had a new protégé." The vigilante eyed you as he came to a stop next to your new boss.

"Red Robin. I didn't know you were stopping by today." You noticed Lucius smirk as he side-eyed the hero.

"Well I…" The remark caught Tim off guard…he didn't really have a particular reason for coming to the lab today. Well other than you. "I had to meet Y/N. I've heard great things so far."

"Right, well I have your suit repaired." Lucius chimed in to relieve some of the awkward tension before quickly disappearing to retrieve it.

Your eyes squinted as you glanced awkwardly around the room, "I've been employed here for like 3 days now…"

"Your…uh…research at school. And your internship at LexCorp…" Of course he had researched you. There's no way you would've gotten into the position without extensive background checks. You awkwardly fiddled with your fingers, hoping Lucius would soon return. You didn't expect Red Robin to try and continue the conversation. "Also thanks for letting me crash the other night. Guess I didn't realize how tired I was."

"So you don't just pick a random apartment to sleep in every night?"

"Well I try not to…I already got berated enough by my brother for that night."

"Good, as you should've." Red Robin looked slightly hurt by your commentary, so you continued. "It's never healthy to let yourself get to that point. What if you had to fight someone?"

"You sound like him…but fair enough. At least it allowed me to work normal hours for once this week."

The gears were turning in your head as everything fell into place, "Tim?" you blurted out before you realized what you had said.

"Ha! Well that didn’t take long." Lucius chuckled as he walked out, costume in hand. Tim's cheeks were already turning a bright crimson.

[achaoticeternal]

Asset Protection

Ransom Drysdale x Reader request from capshoney: Ransom with 31 and 39?

Summary: Ransom is oddly kind to you, but you always brush it off because of your closeness with his mother. Word Count: 2.4k

31) “If we’re going to keep ending up in life-or-death situations, trust that I will save you every single time.” 39) “Wait, are you saying you want to move in with me?”

“(Y/N),” You heard your name spoken with calmness, yet with authority from the black office phone that sat to the right of your Mac Desk Top. Everything was finely put in place, perfectly organized so that you could complete any task at a moment’s notice.

Currently, your eyes were fixated on the screen of the desktop, checking over the calendar for Mrs. Drysdale and various appointments she or her husband previously set so that you could coordinate a time for her to meet with a fairly new client. Your job was supposed to be centered around organizing Mrs.Drysdale’s emails, clients, and setting her calendar. Yet, your job description originally didn’t include practically becoming her personal assistant in both her workplace and life.

“(Y/N),” Mrs. Drysdale’s voice called again with just a touch of impatience.

Quickly, you picked up the phone and opened her full calendar for the month, along with opening both her husbands’ and sons’ schedules in minimized tabs.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Linda?”

“Father’s will reading shall be taking place on Saturday at 3 pm,” She promptly stopped and you quickly began typing away into Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale’s calendar.

“Aare there any arrangements you would like particularly made? Dry-cleaning? Have to cook set up a lunch or appetizers?”

“I need two items. First of all, have my pink suit pressed and dry-cleaned please,” You quickly scribbled down her request onto a post-it note, “and secondly, if you could stop by son’s little bachelor pad and ask if he plans to attend that would be phenomenal. And make sure his maid is still coming and that he hasn’t managed to scare her off yet. You can do that after your lunch break.”

“Yes ma’am, anything else?”

“Actually, if you could go now, you could pick up some lunch for him. I doubt he’s had anything besides a protein shake and who knows what else. Charge it to the VISA”

“Of course, ma’am. Have a wonderful afternoon.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

After five years, 2 years as an intern and 3 as an actual employee, you had come to know and be known by Mrs. Drysdale’s full family. They were an interesting mix of hard workers with rich kid mentalities. Well, most of them. And they were ever a loud crowd. But quite recently, her father had died from a supposed suicide. Of course, that truly wasn’t any of your own business, you just coordinated the funeral date, the invitations, the catering, and anything which the family didn’t want to settle themselves. At the end of it all, you weren’t permitted to attend the funeral which in all honesty made a fair amount of sense.

You didn’t know Harlan at all personally, but he was always kind to you and asked his daughter and her family to treat you with kindness. But two factors didn’t make sense about the funeral. Why they didn’t allow Harlan’s sweet nurse, Marta, to attend… and why Ransom Drysdale didn’t make an appearance at his beloved grandfather’s funeral?

                                                           -  -  -

The little doorbell camera rang as you balanced a paper sack and drink tray in one arm, and your purse and phone in the other. You waved at the camera, knowing he got humor out of watching people wait for him through his recently upgraded phone.

“Afternoon, Ransom. You know I would usually let myself in with the key above the door frame, but as you’ll notice,” you attempted to show off full your hands were, ”My hands are quite full. If you could kindly-”

The large wood door swung open into Ransom’s modern house before you could finish your sentence. And there stood Ransom in a pair of black jeans, a creme shirt, and a burgundy cardigan which you gave him for Christmas two years ago. If he had a scarf and boots on, you would’ve suspected that he just returned home from an outing.

“-open the door,” you stepped inside and made your way promptly to the kitchen, “Glad to see that you're fully awake and you didn’t leave any trash for me to pick up. How sweet. That makes what? Three months?”

“Well, it’s been four months since I brought home a pretty little thing for any bar or club,” Ransom took a seat on a stool and watched you unload your items onto the kitchen island. From the brown paper sack, you pulled two clear to-go containers; one containing Ransom’s favorite turkey and rye sandwich and a side of fruit salad, and in the other, your preferred lunch meal of choice. He threw you his signature smirk as you handed him his container, his hand soft grazing yours, “Are you proud of me, (Y/N)?”

Both his words and his actions caused your cheeks to fluster a bit. You understood how unprofessional your encounters with Mrs. Drysdale’s son were, but either she made it a point to notice or she simply didn’t care. Linda had only taken comfort in you a few times, but her frequent concern was Ransom and his future.

“Of course I am,” You smiled at him kindly, before returning back to business reaching into the bag again to obtain napkins and cutlery, “Now, your mother will pester me about this if I don’t get an answer to her in the next twenty-four hours. Do you...”

Ransom’s gaze shifted down to the pile on the counter where he noticed a napkin with black spots.

“...Do you plan to attend the reading of the will? I mean, after his birthday and not attending the funeral, I’m not sure what your p-”

“Yeah, I’ll be there, but (Y/N),” sipping your drink, you turned around to see what had captivated him, “who wrong this note?”

On the napkin was inscribed:

Does sleeping with him get you extra money from his mommy?        X. 

“Wh-what? I need a drink, that doesn’t even make sense. I haven’t even spent the night here, well except for when your mother left me here for four hours the night before our business trip but I’ve never even entered your room with you in there. This is just some small... little...” but the world seemed to fade quickly.

                                                          -  -  -

“Does she have any family?”

“Her mother and sister live in Vermont, but no one in the state. We treat her like part of our family”

The two female voices continued their conversation as you opened your eyes but quickly covered them to adjust yourself to the light. You saw Ransom sitting in one of the chairs while Linda answered any medical or personal questions. 

“Where are we? Ransom- what happened?”

“Well, what’s the last thing you remember?”Ransom asked.

Telling you how proud I am of you.

“Asking about your schedule for the weekend?” From there on, things were blurry, but shapes and colors would stand. Things you might remember later.

“From your report, it seems you were drugged. Nothing heavy, but quite fast-acting. At least, you weren’t behind the wheel when this happened,” The nurse responded, “You’re free to leave, thanks to Mrs. Drysdale here.”

Linda gave the nurse the same smile she gives to every client after a sale, “Thank you, now let’s get to my car. Hugh, your father is probably waiting at the house with dinner. And you better behave, because Ms. (Y/L/N) will be our guest tonight”

                                                         -  -  -

The dinner table inside the Thrombey House was on the quiet side, even though the full family was in attendance. It wasn’t your first time attending such an event, but it wasn’t one you made frequent. The youth spent most of the meal on their phones while the adults chattered about various topics, and even asked you a few questions about future aspirations or opinions on the current state of something you probably couldn’t care less about tonight. Everyone tried to engage themselves in something, except for Ransom who picked at his food and made a few crass comments under his breath. You took the slight lull to speak up.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay for the evening. My car is stranded at Ransom’s and getting an Uber this late in the evening is-”

“(Y/N), you’re my go-to girl, my secretary, practically my personal assistant. I couldn’t allow for anything bad to happen to you. You’re far too... valuable to be lost,” Linda never spoke like this, unless she needs to boast about her own self-made business and image.

“In fact,” it was now Richard’s turn to begin boasting about how you were so helpful to the entire Drysdale family and coordinating the funeral and this and that and you just couldn’t comprehend why such a family always had to one-up each other. It simply had to be exhausting.

Fran then entered into the dining area and began clearing plates. You offered to assist her, but she mustered up a smile that said she could handle it by herself. When she came around to take your plate, a neatly folded piece of paper sat right underneath it. Quickly, you snatched it from its’ position, hoping to one saw the paper or your sly movements. 

You thought you could get away with it until you felt a foot connect with your shin. Blue eyes met your own and you knew Ransom saw everything. He just seemed to always pay close attention to you, maybe a sign of concern or endearment. And you could tell exactly what his eyes were saying.

“Well, thank you, all of you with providing me dinner and a room for the night,” You quietly slid your chair back and stood.

“Of course, dear. Hugh,” Ransom peered to his mother as if surprised by her attention, “Please show, (Y/N), our guest room before you make your own exit for the evening.”

Ransom lead you easily up the oak staircase to the second floor where he pushed you inside what seemed to be a supply closet. A large supply closet mainly filled with old board games but still a simple closet.

“What was that paper you were so quick to hide?”

You tugged it out of your pocket and unfolded it, smoothing the creases so you could read the context better.

Asset protection is important for any and every company.                       X.

“This one doesn’t even make sense! How do you go from a direct attack on me to this- this load of shit!”

“Well, in my eyes a person who won’t make a better effort to threaten you or do it in a more accurate way is a piece of shit,” Ransom’s eyes skimmed over the paper, “But this time, it’s remarkably true. My parents admire your hard work for them, so you are an asset in a way.”

You felt fear knot up in your stomach, you couldn’t understand what someone could have against you. In every aspect, you were an honorable citizen who made a fair living. It just didn’t add up, “Where’s the guest room? I need to sleep.”

“Right, but I’m going to show you a different way into the guest room,” He grabbed your hand before leading you across the hall into another bedroom. The pair of you crept into the closet and Ransom kicked a panel in the wall. A door quickly slid open and the pair of you made your way up a little staircase, “Harlon just loved his hiding places”

“Ransom. If I’m in potential danger? What do I do? I don’t have to first clue in-

“Well, first of all, don’t be so damn trusting. It makes you an easier target. Second of all, find somewhere or someone you can stay with that you could seek comfort and safety in, at least until you feel safe.”

Both of you came to a stop as you made it to a small door. But a little idea popped into your head, “Well, could I stay in that big house of yours? I don’t have any family here and I refuse to go bankrupt in a motel room because of a potential stalker. I know it might be strange given our past flirtations, but I-”

“Wait, are you saying you want to move in with me?”

“Not really, move in. That would mean something completely different and- and completely out of the question because of my position in your moth-”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can stay with me. It’ll be nice to have a welcomed guest around,” Ransom pushed open the door and emerged into the guest which felt like a victorian guest suite set up, “and that’s why we came in through the back”

In the front of the door was tripwire for a possible trap unseen, but just the thought stirred you in unpleasant ways. Ransom searched the room before finding three darts ready to fire at any notice, “I’m really looking like a good guy, stopping any threats before they happen.”

“Yeah, it’s almost out of character,” You grabbed the glass of water by the nightstand.

Quickly, Ransom snatched the water from your hand, leaving you shaking, “Niether of us brought a glass up with us and I’m not going to have a repeated visit to the hospital to be asked if I gave you a date rape drug.”

He entered the attached bathroom and poured its’ contents in the sink while you sat yourself upon the bed. Thinking of the events from today. Shakily, you looked up to Ransom, “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I haven’t done anything. I-”

“Maybe someone is trying to get your attention,” He sat beside you and took your left hand into his right, using his thumb to caress the gentle skin, “And you still have me, though this is too far outside my comfort zone with any woman. If we’re going to keep ending up in life-or-death situations, trust that I will save you every single time.”

“Thank you, Ransom. For offering your assistance. For making sure I don’t get myself hurt. For not being a huge dick to me also,” you laughed.

“Well, what’s my mother’s is mine, and I happen to like her little personal assist,” before he stood from the bed, he gave your knuckles a strangely gentle kiss, “good night, (Y/N). I’ll see you at Breakfast”

Everything blurred, including Ransom’s exit, as you feel into a soft slumber.

:———————————————————————:

let me know if you think this deserves a part 2 or anything!

[mlqcconfessions]

Your headcanon about someone hitting on mc was awesome! How about a reverse of that situation where someone is hitting on the guys and you’re getting kind of jealous and annoyed because hey, that’s your boyfriend! How would our guys react?

“We’ve seen a couple of jealous boys HC’s, now can we see the boys reacting to a jealous MC? ;) (i can already hear birdcop’s “i’m not the type girls like” like from his right beside you)”

Since these two asks were similar, I bunched them together into one headcanon. Enjoy!

MLQC Headcanon - Now it’s my turn

Victor

Some guests from a partnered company were planned to visit this afternoon

You were, of course, involved with this deal (much to Victor’s worries)

You had to literally push him out the door while you were gathering your materials

“Victor, you’ll be fine!”

“Dummy....do you really think I’m worried about myself?”

The meeting was underway and you were getting prepared to leave

As soon as you walk in, you see Victor sitting across from the door

? He looks somewhat annoyed....

And you immediately understand why (it took everything in you to not barge in)

One of the business partners was getting a little too close to Victor (is....is that CLEAVAGE?!)

You let out a small cough to make the others aware of your presence

Victor looks at you with indifference (but you can sense a slight welcoming glance)

There’s no choice but to sit on his other side, since the lady was hogging everything else

The meeting itself goes by with no major problems

Except that one instance where you accidentally intentionally spilled tea on her

Her co-worker had to stop her from lashing out at you

You just hid behind Victor, who heaved a deep sigh (he sighed a total of 34 times today; Goldman counted)

When the head secretary showed the two guests out, you were left alone with Victor

“......I’m sorry”

“For?”

“.....almost ruining today’s project”

“Because?”

“because..........(you’re struggling to say the words) I can’t say it!”

You get up to leave this awkward situation, but he grabs your hand and pulls you towards him

“Tell me. Because?”

“.......because I was jealous over how she was getting too intimate with you” (you don’t like his satisfied expression)

He takes your hand and kisses the ring on your finger

“Dummy.....how unfaithful of a husband do you portray me as?”

Kiro

It’s not easy dating a celebrity

Especially when he’s a ultra star like Kiro

You’ve never had a chance to go on proper dates (at least, without disguises and bodyguards)

The only time you can see each other is when you tag along during his working hours

This time, he invited you to one of his commercial shoots

It was to advertise various pool supplies (it was summer, after all)

He was clothed accordingly, showing off his beautiful abs with the brand’s shorts

His partner, an equally famous actress, was dawning a high-waisted bikini (now THIS is a summer bod)

If you said you weren’t jealous, that would be a lie

You had to watch your boyfriend act like a couple with someone else

To top it off, it was planned like a pool date (something you haven’t even done with Kiro)

At one point, you were too pouty to watch any longer

You found some shade next to Savin (he kept complaining about how hot it was today)

When the shoot was over, Kiro comes to where you’re sitting

“MC! Did you see how cool I was back there?”

“Of...of course! You were really cool....”

You tried your best to hide your disappointments, but it doesn’t get by Kiro

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No...! No, it’s just that....it looked fun....the pool date”

Kiro’s speechless for a moment (but bursts out laughing right after)

“Haha! So that’s why!”

“Don’t make fun of me, Kiro....” (you glare at him, half-hoping Savin will make him stop he doesn’t)

“Well if that’s the case, let’s go to the beach tomorrow!”

Savin is triggered

“Wha- tomorrow? But won’t you be exhausted after today’s filming?”

“Of course not! Not when we can finally go on a normal date!”

Lucien

He’s always observant with his surroundings

Especially regarding you and your reactions (when he’s close with the other professors)

“Ah, Professor Xu! Here’s the research you asked for yesterday”

“Thank you, Professor Chen. I really appreciate your help”

“No worries. See you tomorrow (he slightly nods to you), and you as well MC”

“Yes....” (you awkwardly bow back)

The two of you head towards Lucien’s office to get ready to go home

As you’re helping him pack up his papers, you can’t help but be curious about this research from Prof. Chen

“....what are you researching?” (you slowly reach out to open the folder)

He smiles and closes it before you can read what’s inside

“Just some reference materials”

You’re a little stunned at his discretion (not that it’s anything new, but he’s never openly hid work-related stuff before)

“Is it only between you and Professor Chen?”

“In a way, yes”

“Is this why you’ve been sending me home earlier lately?”

“That too, yes”

“Is it something you can’t tell me?”

He pauses for a moment, and places the folder in your hands

“Of course not. If anything, I’d like your opinion on it as well”

“My opinion?”

You open the folder to find a series of pictures and reviews of what appears to be a restaurant

“I would have liked to keep it a secret for a little longer (he rests his chin on your shoulder). But I can’t help it when you’re this jealous”

“I’m not....! I’m wasn’t jealous.....”

He chuckles lightly before redirecting your attention to the pictures

“So? Which one would you prefer?”

“In terms of what? Like where I want to go to eat?”

“Hmm...not necessarily”

“Then in terms of what?”

He’s playing with your left ring finger

“In terms of where you want to be proposed to”

Gavin

He’s never really seen you jealous before

He just assumed you weren’t the type to

bOY he’s wrong BIG TIME

You can get jealous, alright (he just doesn’t realize his indescribable charm)

“Don’t lie to me, Gavin!”

“No really! I’m not the type girls like”

“Then why were those girls so desperate to take a picture with you?”

“Because.....they’ve never seen a police officer wearing animal headbands before?” (you were on an amusement park date on his day off)

Huh! Unbelievable.

You get so pouty after he says this

You find a nearby bench and plop down, with your back turned towards him

“MC?”

Nothing.

“.....MC?”

Nothing.

He softly sighs and sits down next to you

“...I’m sorry” (you quickly turn your head)

“Why are you apologizing?” (you knew that it wasn’t his fault that he’s so attractive)

“Because I made you mad?”

“I’m not mad”

“....but you are....?”

“I’m....I’m not mad, I’m just..... (you bury yourself in his chest)”

He’s thrown off guard at your sudden push (this is a public location!)

“I’m just jealous! That’s all....”

He goes wide-eyed at your faint confession but instinctively hugs you back

What is this small creature....! I must protect!

Birdcop keeps trying to make you jealous afterwards

But he’s always the one getting jealous in the end