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#so it just makes sense for him to be ceo. hes been at the firm ages and worked his way up through like every rank already
the-casbah-way · 1 year
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Why didn't McPhee choose Lance for CEO instead of Oct?
a few reasons. octavius is managing director and lance is head of marketing, so it would make far more sense in terms of a more standard career progression for octavius to be ceo. a managing director (in this context) is very similar to a ceo anyway so mcphee knows that octavius already has all the experience needed for the role. as well as that, octavius is just very good at his job. if he wasn't he wouldn't be in the position he's in. he's very efficient and has the correct degree and previous work experience, he's great with numbers and administrative work and he's also surprisingly a very good and natural leader. he has that privileged white man way of speaking and carrying himself that makes him very good at bossing people around and actually getting them to listen. don't get me wrong he is not people positive at all and wishes he could just do his job with no input from anyone else because he doesn't trust them to meet his impossibly high standards, and that's why i said mcphee probably shouldn't have chosen him because a ceo generally needs to have VERY strong people skills. but octavius is definitely the best man for the job in terms of the choices mcphee has within the firm already. lance is too self centred to be able to better the company as a whole and his skills are definitely more suited for a role where he doesn't have to handle the entire admin side of things because he does not work anywhere near hard enough to pull that off and almost everyone that knows him can tell. he's very much a nepotism baby and did not really earn his role like octavius did
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lushrue · 1 month
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i’ve been seeing a lot of business/ceo aus with the 141, but i’ve been bingewatching “suits” lately so…law firm au?
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The 141 Law Group is one of the most prestigious in London. they take on clients that nobody else will, lots of high profile people and large businesses. they have a great reputation for discreteness, getting things done quickly and quietly and mostly above board. 141 handpicks their associates from the top law schools in the UK and it’s an honor to be chosen by them.
jonathan price is managing partner. at the end of the day, it’s him who makes the decisions of what clients to take on, what expenses are necessary and which ones aren’t, and how to handle the difficult cases. he runs the show, and what he says goes. usually mills around in the associate spaces, making sure the firm’s making good investments in the rookies. his background is in criminal law, but getting him in the courtroom is tough these days. he can be tempted out of his cushy corner office on occasion, though.
simon riley is a senior partner, price’s right hand. he was one of the founding partners of the firm, but chose to keep his name off the official paperwork. he has more interest in being a lawyer than a manager, though he likes to throw his weight around from time to time. expert in business law, does a really good job at giving government oversight the finger and finding workarounds for his clients. he has his limits though, won’t help his clients take action that will harm consumers. most people think he’s sleazy and dirty, but there’s a heart of gold underneath that prada suit.
john mactavish is the firm’s numbers guy. we already know he’s good with math, he has to be not to blow himself to bits. he keeps the ledgers balanced and the firm consistently in the green. has a few clients of his own that he advises on strictly financial matters. price brings him on every new client lunch because of his charm and wit, swears they’ve gotten a couple of clients because of johnny’s sense of humor alone. likes the water cooler talk, especially with lawyers in different specializations. this man knows so many random bits and pieces of international law, business law, entertainment law all because of the people he strikes up conversation with.
kyle garrick is the freshest face, hired for a permanent position after being chosen as an associate. aspiring senior partner, would love to co-manage the firm with price someday. he works primarily with international clients, loves the late nights reading up on the laws that govern other countries. he’s great at finding loopholes, just like simon. he’s aggressive in the courtroom when he does get to go, oftentimes as co-counsel with simon or johnny. he’s scribbling notes in every meeting he’s in, soaking in all the information. despite the multiple offers he’s gotten from other firms, his loyalty lies with john.
and then there’s you, their new secretary. simon was hesitant when john announced your hiring at the partners’ meeting, didn’t really think they needed someone fielding calls and making copies when that was what the associates were for. john had purely personal motivations for hiring you, though. poached you from the rival firm, Shadow Company, LLC. while you’d been content enough in your position, phillip graves was a bit of a sleazeball, in your opinion. when price came in with his sweet talk and promise of a signing bonus, you were hooked. nevermind that it took a whole week of morning coffees and tickets to the ballet for johnny to agree to the extra expense. they change their mind when you show up to work in your tight skirt and high heels, eyes bright and ready to start. 
the second you bent over your desk and they caught a glimpse of your lacy thong, it was all over.
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buckyalpine · 2 years
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Hellooo, it's my first time asking for something, I don't even know the rules of this so you can ignore me whilst I learn the tumblr etiquette 🤭 I want something with a badass reader could be a CEO or a mafia leader or a queen or a sugar mommy but something with a powerful reader for a change, don't get me wrong I love seeing bucky or his characters all high and mighty but we can be all of that too 🙆🏻‍♀️
Could be a CEO sugar mommy reader x struggling college nerdy bucky 🤭 hahaha you know college is expensive and his parents help him but there's Becca too and he's working but only part time. They cross paths when he delivers her food or something hahaha I'm bad at this. Sorry.
Anywaysss, I love your writing and your stories. You're amazing and I'm glad you were one of the first blogs I came across when I open my account. Thank you for sharing your talent with us 🙆🏻‍♀️
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18+
College Bucky x CEO Sugar mommy reader
I swear I run this blog lawless, I don’t think I even added rules yet. Baby THIS IS FUCKING DELICIOUSSSSS YES PLEASE, bless your brain. I imagined this with Bucky in his 20′s and reader in her 30′s but go a head and imagine your own age gaps if you’re feeling something else. 
Warnings: FLUFF AND SMUTTT AND FLUFF AND SMUT
Sugar drabbleish
Bucky's barely able to afford college plus rent when he's living paycheck to paycheck, his part time job doesn't pay enough at all. He works at a local diner; he started off as a bus boy but now he occasionally works in the kitchen or delivers food. It tires him out but he has to do it because between him and his sister, his parents can only help so much.
The first time he has to deliver food to your company, its late and his last order before going home. Its your go to place for when your stressed out and feel like indulging. Bucky’s boss tells him to handle the order carefully; he finds it strange because he’d never been careless with food before. Once he gets to the address, it makes sense. He stares up at the tall glass building before pushing the heavy doors to go inside. 
Your secretary sees the take out bag and just waves him the elevator, telling him to go to your office, while she continues to respond to emails. He swallows thickly because he usually just leaves food at a door step and runs off; he feels so out of place in this building. He makes it to the top floor and has to ask for directions to your office; he’s directed to the large wooden doors down the hall. He isn’t sure if he should just walk in or knock first, but he decides to knock just to be safe. He hears a firm come in and he hesitantly pushes the door open.  
“I-um, I have your food?” 
You nodded, still looking at your laptop before looking up at him. Oh. You’d had people deliver food to you before but none of them looked like that. You can’t help but let your eyes wander up and down; he was adorable. Handsome. Definitely younger, but you internally shrugged, you didn’t mind. 
Bucky froze looking at you, he didn’t know who he was expecting but he wasn’t expecting someone like you. You were gorgeous. Attractive. Sure you were older but that just made you sexier. Your hair still neatly in place. You cocked your head while he stayed rooted on the spot, his cheeks tainted pink. He blinked, forcing some blood back to his head before walking over, placing the bag on your desk. 
“Thank you” You smiled, handing him a $100, before digging into your food, moaning at the first bite. 
Fuck, that pretty sound. 
“I-I dont think I have that much change-
“Don’t worry about it” You shrugged, insisting he keep it as a tip, sending him on his way before getting back to your work. He can’t help but look back at you as he leaves, something about you being the CEO, so pretty, powerful, leaves him smitten. 
Obviously he knows he has no chance with you. You’d never go for someone like him anyway; you were older and in a different place in your life. He was struggling with college but he allows himself to dream. 
After the first time, every time Bucky sees an order from your company, he insists on grabbing the order. If he’s the one making the food, he most definitely makes it the best thing you ever tasted. You found yourself ordering from there more, even when you weren’t particularly hungry. You adore his presence when he comes by, a blushing shy mess, always politely knocking before entering and always flustered when you tip him more than what he makes in his paycheck. 
Sometimes he lingers around a little longer, wanting to see if you liked what he made; he doesn’t say anything but when your eyes roll back, moaning at how good the food is, he bites his lip, proud of himself for making you sound like that. 
Eventually you both start talking. 
He’s like a giddy school boy when you ask him how he’s doing; you can’t help but smile at the way he rambles on about school, assignments, his job. You casually ask about what he does outside of all that and the poor baby doesn’t have much else going on. No dates. No girlfriend. No way to release all that stress- ok stop. You mentally scold yourself, but your mind is in the gutter and it isn’t going anywhere else. 
You can’t help but miss him when he leaves. He was sweet. Innocent. He always preened at your praise like a puppy, wanting to be so good for you. You actually enjoyed the conversations you had with him; he was so attentive when you spoke and he made you laugh. You felt less lonely when he was around. You realized you didn’t have time for dates, just like him. It wasn’t something you thought about often but it would have been nice to have someone to spend time with. Someone you could vent to when you were stressed. Someone to fuck you till you were thoughtless. Someone to hold you when everything was overwhelming. 
Just like tonight. 
You were stressed.
Tired.
You’d managed to take care of a few clients and settle some deals but you still had a pile of things to get to. You had 0 appetite yet you found yourself placing an order for waffles and ice cream, your go to comfort food. You impatiently waited for your order, knowing damn well it wasn’t the food you were looking forward to. You ordered often enough that Bucky had pieced together what mood you were in depending on what you got. 
You were happy when you ordered a sandwich. 
Probably a little grumpy when you ordered pasta.
There was a specific time in the month where you ordered a large slice of chocolate cake twice a day. 
You always looked a little pouty and sad when you ordered waffles. 
He was out the door as soon as he saw your number pop up. Bucky scolded himself as he made his way over, his heart shouldn’t be fluttering and he shouldn’t be this excited. He couldn’t hep the little crush he had on you, it was getting worse and harder to ignore. He nearly came in his pants the day he walked in on you leading a meeting, the firm tone of your voice made his cock jump. He watched you in awe, effortlessly closing a deal, taking long strides across the room in your heels. No matter how stressed or tired you were, fuck you were always so nice to him and if you gave him a chance he’d be such a good boy-
No.
You would laugh in his face. 
He had no business thinking of you like that. 
You deserved so much more. 
You smiled hearing the soft knock at the door, instantly feeling a little better when Bucky walked in, his cheeks dusted pink as always, handing you your order. 
“Thank you- You paused realizing you still didn’t know his name even though you’d spoken many times before “I see you so often, I might as well know your name” 
“Bucky- um James but most people call me Bucky” 
“That’s adorable” 
Bucky blushed again, his heart jumping every so often as he glanced at you. It didn’t matter how the day was going, you always looked so gorgeous in your blazers and blouses. You always had the prettiest heels, nails perfectly painted. He loved the sound of your voice, the way it would switch up from soft and sweet with him and firm when you answered the phone. 
He wasn’t sure when you shifted to sit on the desk, in front of him in your office, letting him sit down for a while as well, but he suddenly became aware of the scent of your perfume. The soft curve of your jaw. He found himself inching a little closer each time, his heart fluttering because you didn’t pull away. He got lost in talking to you, hardly noticing the time pass by until his eyes glanced at the clock, cursing under his breath when he realized he’d be late for work. 
“You don’t have to rush back, y’know” You laughed, while Bucky scrambled to grab his things when he noticed the time. Just when you thought he couldn’t be sweeter, you saw how he sat closer and closer to you, his eyes sparkling every time you spoke. Sweet baby boy. 
“I have another shift” He genuinely wanted to stay longer until he remembered his student loans and up coming rent. 
“Just tell them you don’t feel well, here” You slid over a few bills, selfishly wanting him all to yourself, especially tonight. “Call in sick for tonight” 
You knew it was probably wrong, but you couldn’t help it, you didn’t want him to leave just yet. Bucky’s eyes grew wide at the money you handed to him while you continued to poke at your waffle. 
“I-this is more than I make in a month, I can’t-
“You can, honestly, its nothing. Please?” You gave him a sweet pout and he was ready to fold on the spot.  He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hide his crush for, if he stayed any longer he’d do something stupid. “Unless you don’t want to, its okay”
“No! I want to!” He moved even closer, scared to disappoint you, he’d never want to do that, which is exactly why he let his little secret slip out. 
“I-I think you’re so pretty, I really really like you-” he blurted out, his eyes growing wide when he realized what he said. You couldn’t help but giggle at his confession, leaning a little so your legs brushed against his. You melted at his softness as he bit his lip nervously, still unsure if he should stay. 
“Hmm, why are you nervous baby” You cooed, your thumb tracing over his bottom lip, red and swollen. He nearly whimpered at your words, he wanted to be your baby so bad but could he? “I like your company, that’s why I’m asking you to stay” 
“I-I can’t give you what you deserve” Bucky shrugged, his shoulders slumped a little. He already couldn’t pay for college, there would be no way he’d be able to meet your standards. He’d never be able to take you out on a proper date or treat you like the queen you were. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers; you wanted to take care of him so badly. 
“I don’t need you to do that for me” You tilted his chin up to make him look at you again, his breaths shuddered. “I just..need..you” 
Bucky’s eyes grew wide before he hesitantly leaned in, too scared to kiss you even though he wanted to so badly. You smirked, closing the gap between you both, softly pressing your lips against his. He whimpered, parting his lips, suddenly desperate for more. He carefully cupped your face, slowly pushing his tongue in, moaning when he felt your hands on his waist. You let him take control, his lips sucking and nipping on yours, his tongue tasting every bit of you. 
He kissed you until he had to  pull away for oxygen panting and dizzy, no blood in his head anymore, a thick outline of his cock straining against his sweats. Your hands trail down his chest, ghosting over his boner making him whimper. 
“I’ll take care of you baby” You smiled, your fingers tracing the outline of his cock. His breath shudders, his cock throbs as you tease him, part of him is worried he’ll cum in his pants. He wants you to play with his cock, he really does but he just got a taste of your lips and now he wants more.
So much more. 
“Can I taste you?” He whispers, dropping to his knees, desperate to feel your juices on his tongue “Please?”
“Shh I told you I’ll take care of you” 
“P-please?” He shakes his head, his glassy eyes pleading with you. 
How could you say no to such a sweet puppy. 
“You want to baby?” You cup his cheek, your thumb caressing his skin softly. He nods, quickly pulling your skirt up and tossing off your panties. He parts your thighs, throwing them on his shoulders. He dives in immediately, sucking and licking up your arousal, his eyes rolling back at your slick on his tongue. 
“F-fuck you taste good” His lips are glistening with your juices, his moans muffled as he drank as much as he could, savoring every bit of you. You gasped at the feeling of his mouth, his tongue deep in your entrance, greedy for more of your taste. His nose nudges your clit making it throb. 
“S’good Bucky, fuck don’t stop” You moaned out and that’s all he needed to hear. He wasn’t planning on stopping. He started to flick his tongue on your clit, gazing up and you, loving the way you had your head thrown back, so fucking gorgeous spread out on your desk. Your hands carded through his soft locks making him whine, his lips sealing around your clit.  “Oh fuck baby, just like that, doing so good for me baby, s’fucking good, m’so close” 
He loved the way your clit felt on his tongue, suckling at it softly, while he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock. You notice his moans are getting louder as he sucks on your clit, he’s overwhelmed with pleasure, fisting his cock while eating you like you’re his last meal. 
“Fuck I’m cumming” You cried out, your thighs squeezing around his head while he played with your clit, groaning at the way your arousal poured out of you making a mess all over his face. His breaths are heavy, moaning while he keeps stroking himself. 
“What is it baby?” You smirk when you see how desperate he looks, his shirt pulled up, the pink tip of his cock swollen and wet with precum. 
“M’gonna cum” he whines out, stroking his cock on his knees, his chest heaving, eyes locked with yours. “Can I? Please?” 
“Cum for me baby boy, show me how good boys cum” 
That throws him off the edge as he cries out, ropes of cum splattering onto his abs, and dripping onto his hand. He’s shaky when he stands up, still panting, he’s never cummed that hard before. 
“Come here, let me clean you up” You tug on his hand, grabbing a tissue, wiping his tummy, and the rest of him down. He’s never had anyone be so soft with him and he wants to curl up with you and cuddle so badly. He nuzzles himself against you and you coo at how soft he becomes. His body jolts as he tucks his cock back in, and you can’t help but pull him in, playing with his hair for a while. It starts to get late and you give him a quick kiss on his temple. He reluctantly pulls away, pouting a little. 
“I’ll see you again soon?” You smile softly and he instantly lights up, already excited, nodding instantly. “I told you I’ll take care of you, okay?” 
“Are-are you sure?” He doesn’t meet your eyes, playing with your fingers instead. “You don’t have to-
“Bucky look at me baby. I want to”  You cup his cheek making him look at you. “I’m happy to as long as I get to see you” That makes him blush, unable to wrap his head around the fact that you want to see him and spend time with him. 
“I’ll cover your shift for this month by the way” You give him a peck on his lips before he leaves, more flustered than ever. He nods vigorously, his heart beating out of his chest. 
It’s a convenient arrangement. You take care of his needs while he takes care of yours. He loves spending his time with his face buried between your legs pulling the prettiest sounds out of you. You love the way he pours his heart and soul into pleasuring you, relieving your stress every single time. 
Eventually he starts to come over to  your place instead of coming by your office. At first, your both in the living room, making out like horny teenagers and you’ve waited long enough, you need more from him. His eyes grow wide when you pull him off the couch and drag him to your room.
Bucky is NOT inexperienced but something about being with you makes him feel like its his first time. He’s naked and spread out on the bed for you, his senses heightening to 100 seeing you naked for the first time. His cock is leaking against his tummy, throbbing as he hesitantly parts your legs, nudging against your entrance. 
“Shh, just relax for me baby boy” You peck his lips softly, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. He moans to himself, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds, circling around your clit before pressing it against your entrance. 
“You ready Jamie?” He nods, inching himself inside you closer, moaning as he feels your cunt suck his cock in. 
“Oh-fuck-”  His face is inches away from yours, cock already throbbing, the sounds leaving your mouth are not helping at all. 
“Oh my god!” Your eyes roll back at the feeling of his thick length stretching you, gasping as he buries himself inside you. Your pussy clenches around him, your thighs squeezing around his waist, you’ve never felt so full “Yes, fuck yes” 
“You’re-you’re so tight” He stutters as he starts to move, he can feel every inch of your silky walls hugging him. His body weight falls onto you, his cock feels so good he’s scared he’s going to cum in two strokes. 
“You’re so big Jamie” You love the burn and pain with each thrust grazing his back as he starts to move faster. “Fuck your cock is so thick baby” The more you talk, the harder it is for him to control himself, he whimpering, snapping his hips into you, his balls hitting your ass. “Just like that baby boy, fuck me with your fat cock” 
“Mommy” He whines out, not even registering what he just called you. All he knows is that he’s your baby boy, you take care of him, he’d do anything to make you feel good. You cry out for him as he hits your gspot. His hands come to move your hair away from your forehead, kissing your softly. “Is my cock too big mommy?”
“It’s perfect Jamie, hurts so good baby” You pull him in and kiss him deeply making his cock throb. He buries his face in your neck, his hands gripping your waist tightly because he doesn’t want to cum yet but it’s getting harder for him not to cum. “God I needed this so bad baby, stretch mommy’s pussy baby” 
“I-I can’t hold it, it feels good” He pants, his pace starting to grow sloppy. He pulls away slightly, doing his best to focus on hitting your gspot, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Rub your clit mommy” 
Your hand snakes down to play with your clit, the neediness of your sweet baby has you coming undone within seconds. 
“F-fuck” The sounds you made already made him unable to focus but the sight of you touching yourself under him makes him lose control. “Oh fuck, play with it mommy, rub your clit hard for me” 
You moan loudly, your pussy fluttering and sucking him in deeper and his body falls on you again.
“Mommy m’gonna cum” He groans, already dripping and making a mess in you with his precum. “Can I cum in you?” He wants to be greedy and give his perfect mommy his cum.
“Cum in me baby boy, be a good boy and cum in mommy” You coo, and he nearly sobs, cum shooting out of his cock, thick white streams filling your sopping cunt. 
“Fuck m’your good boy” He cries out, he has no idea how he got so lucky getting to pump his thick load into you but he’s not going to waste a drop. He stays deep in your pussy until he’s emptied his balls. “Cumming so hard for you mommy” 
He whines and whimpers, his hips rutting in you for as long as possible. He doesn’t even realize he falls asleep just like that, his face buried in your boobs, clinging onto you like a child. Your hands come down to caress his skin, letting him sleep for a while. You know he needs his release as badly as you do. 
You spoil him. You spoil him because he deserves it. You spoil him because he’s so special to you. He’s too scared to tell you when he really does need something. He knows the rules, he has to tell you if there's something he needs, you told him that very clearly. 
*****
You huff when you get his voice mail again, all of your text messages unanswered. When he comes by to your place, he knows hes in trouble because your frowning; mommy only frowns when he’s done something wrong. 
“Baby, how come you didn’t answer your phone”
He’s too scared to tell you he couldn't pay his bill on time and he didn’t want to trouble you. Now he’s even more upset with himself because you were trying to call him and he didn’t even know. 
“I-I couldn't pay my bill” He mumbles, looking down, not meeting your eyes. You soften a little, cupping his face, making him look at you. 
“You should have just told me Bucky, I would have taken care of it. Just let me cover your phone bill bubba” 
“No!- I can pay for it, it’s too much-” You already do so much for him, he doesn’t want to be greedy. 
“I want to be able to call you when I want. It’s not a big deal. I want to take care of you, okay?” You pull him up to your room, giving him a soft kiss before looking at him sternly. 
“Now...” You grasp his cheeks making his lips pout “I should punish you baby” His heart jumps at the thought, his cock already hard. “I was worried about you bubba, not answering your phone all day” You take him apart over and over again, your tongue toying and licking his cock up and down leaving him a whining and whimpering mess. 
Your arrangement with him continues. He hardly has to work because you’ve covered that for him. You’ve gotten him a better phone, a better laptop, you’ve paid for his semesters in school. Bucky loves all that you do for him but he wishes he could tell you he likes you for more than how you take care of him. 
He makes his way over to your place, excited as always, ignoring his feelings.  He’s happy to make you come apart and destress you but he’s ready to be there for everything else too. It makes his stomach churn because he knows you probably don’t feel the same way.
When he knocks on your door, he’s greeted by one of your house keepers which surprises him because you normally answer. He’s told your still working upstairs; he makes his way up to your room. 
You looked tired. Your blazer was thrown on the side of your desk, a few buttons opened at the top, your glasses tossed aside. You have bags under your eyes, papers scattered around. 
“Hi baby” You smiled as Bucky walked into your office room, his heart sinking seeing you so overworked. 
“Are you okay” He frowns as he nears you, coming by your desk, tucking some hair away from your face. You lean into his touch, all your energy drained. He cocks his head as you close your laptop, his hand still gently grazing against your scalp. 
“I’m just tired tonight Bucky” You close your eyes while sitting in your chair and he doesn’t like it. You always look after him and he wants to do the same. 
“Can-can I take care of you?” He whispered, his heart beating out of his chest. He was so used to you telling him what he had to do but you looked so tired and he wanted to do something for you instead. He knew what you needed. You nodded, squealing when he effortlessly lifted you into his arms, carrying you over to your bedroom. 
He set you down onto your bed, carefully taking all your clothes before stripping all of his off. Before you could say anything, he pulled the covers back, crawling into bed and pulling you to lay with him. Bucky held you to his chest, gently stroking your spine with firm fingers, his other hand carding through your hair. He massaged your scalp, smiling when he felt your muscles relax, melting into his touch. 
You can’t help but feel your eyes sting a little. No one had ever been so soft and gentle with you. Bucky always made sure he took care of your body, your soul. Your heart craved him more, his sweetness, his kindness, his affection. You then reminded yourself that he still probably wanted to experience things and being tied down to you was not part of his plans.
You just had to enjoy the time you had with him for what it was. 
“Are you feeling okay?” He hugs you tighter, his lips brushing against your forehead.  
“M’sorry bubba, so tired” You mumbled against his skin, sighing contently when he continued to massage your body, hesitantly pressing a kiss onto your forehead. He cuddled and massaged your body, loving the way you felt in his arms. His beautiful pretty mommy cuddled up with him. 
He realizes he wants this all the time, the feeling of your soft skin with his, the sweetness of your vice. Your wrapped up with him under the blankets and you can feel his heart beating out of his chest as he stutters. 
“I-I like you” You look at him while he bites his lip nervously; fuck what if you kicked him out. 
“I like you too Bucky” you smiled, kissing the dimple on his chin. He relaxes slightly but it’s not good enough. He wanted more. More with you. To have you. Just for him. 
“I want to be yours...always” He whispers the last part, peeking at you through his lashes, worried he might have just ruined everything. 
Of course he hasn’t.
You can’t help the way your heart flutters, melting against him letting your arms wrap around his body. You adored him with your entire being the same way he adored you. 
“You already are baby” You smile against his skin, kissing his chest. “You’re always going to me mine” 
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eleanore-delphinium · 10 months
Text
For Sauce Weekend: Day 3: "Put This On For Me"
This idea isn’t mine completely, this came from a book in goodnovel (app) titled ‘ Yearning for Her Return’. And it bothered me so this is me amending it to make it make sense.
Also, The Life of A Vampire & A Witch in the Woods, was supposed to be a halloween special. I forgot to say it there and it has bothered me for days.
And A03 link for this fic if you read there (my ff.net is fucked my stats always shows 0 for 3 months now.)
Disclaimer: Modern AU, again not really smut more on domestic fluff. CEO Dami, MATURE.
For Sauce Weekend: Day 3: "Put This On For Me"
Word Count: 10 310 (ish)
~.~.~.~.~.~
"Put This On For Me"
Damian Wayne and Rachel ‘Raven’ Roth were arranged to be married and on the evening of their wedding, Raven was shipped out of Gotham like some unwanted child after a divorce. She didn’t even get to have her long-awaited wedding night, not that she was actually anticipating it. 
People had told her such wonderful things about the wedding night, all the bells and whistles you could ever think of. But she was aware that her wedding was nothing but a show and that expecting all those promises was foolish. 
She knew they only told her that to comfort her.
It’s been three months since her wedding and she never saw or heard from her husband. But it didn’t matter, she had other things to worry about, like finishing up her university and getting her degree in Metropolis.
She returned to her apartment rather early in the morning, having not slept there because she was out doing a project. When she opened the door, she wasn’t really paying attention as she was tired and closed the door the moment, she opened it. Her back turned to the living room instantly. She leaned against the door as she locked it, sighing aloud.
“You should pay more attention to your surroundings.” A male voice came from behind her and she yelped, jumping to the door and hitting her head on the wood.
“God, and I married you?” The voice said and Raven turned to the voice and she gasped taking a step back, her back now pressed on the wooden door.
She’d recognize that face anywhere. Even though she had only seen him once. On their wedding ceremony.
He wore a black suit and a dark green dress shirt underneath. It matched his eyes well. He was the most handsome man Raven had ever had the honor to meet if she'd be honest. His green eyes that were locked on her were nothing less than intoxicating. Or maybe it was his effect on her. He was just that handsome.
“How- how did you get in here?” She asked, trying to breathe normally.
“I’m your husband.” He just answered back and she frowned.
“I should talk to my landlord.” She mumbled under her breath.
“I will deal with that for you, dear wife, but first we have other pressing matters to deal with.” He approached her and she watched him come closer to her. 
She nervously gulped, “Like what?”
“Like the fact that you ran off right after our wedding?” There was an edge to his voice and it annoyed Raven. 
She frowned and the annoyance became anger, “You were the one who sent me away!” 
Damian froze and she watched his jaw tighten and his gaze turned even colder, “What?”
Raven wasn’t dumb, she could see it in his body language that he didn’t send her away. Then he continued making his way to her, she was shaking in her spot against the door. She didn’t know him on a personal level, so being afraid was quite natural.
“How about you changing your number?” He asked, putting a hand beside her head, pinning her to the wall.
She got even angrier, “What are you talking about?” She glared at him then placed both her hands on his chest, pushing him harshly, “You blocked me!” But he didn’t even budge and her hands on his firm chest felt like they were burning.
His chest was really hard underneath all the layers of clothes.
Damian’s face softened a little but not significant enough, even so, she noted how his brows looked less close to one another. His other hand that wasn’t near her head, rummaged inside his blazer pocket and she couldn’t help but look down. He took out his phone and then showed her the screen.
She pulled her head away a bit and blinked as she looked down at the screen. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the light.
After a few seconds he said, “Isn’t this your number?”
Raven frowned and then nodded.
“Then press the call button for me.” He stated as she looked up at him, looking like she wanted to say no but still did what was asked.
“Sorry, the number you have dialed is out of service.” She looked genuinely shocked hearing the robotic voice of a woman tell her that her number is out of service. 
For a moment, the anger subsided, “I never changed my number…” She mumbled to which he raised a brow at her.
Then she tried to push him away again, “But you blocked me!” She countered recalling how many times she tried to reach out to him. And to prove a point, she pulled out her phone and did the same thing he did.
“This is your number, right?” She showed him his phone number on her phone and he nodded. She quickly dialed it and they got the same robotic voice.
Her husband’s angular jaw seemed sharper as he clenched his teeth. “Looks like someone is playing tricks on us.” 
Raven pressed her lips, she had nothing to say, and had no idea who would go to such lengths. 
“Well, now that that mystery is solved– What are you doing here?” She asked carefully and he studied her.
He smiled, a quite enchanting smile if she may add, “Well, I didn’t get to have my honeymoon.”
Her body stiffened then the words sunk it, “You sent me away!”
“I didn’t.” His smile and gaze were alluring and distracting her.
The next thing she knew, his hands were on her waist as he took one step and now his face was just a breath away. One of his hands caressed her spine. 
“I didn’t block you nor did I send you away.” He inhaled deeply. “We were robbed of our own wedding night. As a responsible husband, it seems like I owe you a lot due to your grievances. That includes our first night as a couple.” He whispered and she swallowed her saliva. 
Raven only realized now how deep his voice was and how dangerously close he was. His mouth was hovering over hers and, to be honest, she was anticipating the kiss. His eyes locked on her lips and she didn’t notice it but she had licked her dry lips, making the corners of his lips twitch.
The next moment his lips were on hers and the couple continued to explore each other’s mouths.
Eventually, he pulled away, “Tell me where the bedroom is or I am having you on this damn floor.”
She swallowed and raised an arm while her eyes fluttered, pointing at a door almost directly across the entrance.
He nodded and smiled at her then lifted her up by the waist. Her eyes widened as he pulled her to him and she naturally wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her with ease while also groping her ass. 
Raven felt embarrassed but they were married. 
“I’ve been waiting for this since our wedding ceremony, you can imagine my disappointment when I heard you just left.” There was a tinge of anger in his voice and yet, she just felt even more embarrassed by what he said.
He looked forward to fucking her? 
The nervousness couldn’t be controlled, not with his implications.
The next thing she knew, she was placed gently on her bed that had white sheets and he lightly lifted her chin, “I will rectify this issue and I will treat you well, but I expect the same from you.”
She didn’t even know why, she just nodded. 
He kissed her neck, “I mean I don’t want you cheating on me, wife.”
Raven snapped out of whatever trance he induced in her. She poked his shoulder harshly, “Shouldn’t I say that to you?”
He lifted his head from her neck and raised a brow at her, “And why is that?”
She frowned, “Business meetings? Women and half their tits out bouncing to get your attention?”
He chuckled casually, “I don’t think that is a business meeting, beloved.”
She choked, oh how easy it was for him to pull out a pet name for her out of thin air. 
He stroked her jaw, “Don’t you think it suits you? Beloved?”
She couldn’t answer, she couldn’t even look at him. But she felt that her face was crimson red.
“We will discuss other details later, for now,” His hands found their way under her shirt and to her slim waist. “Let’s have our long-awaited wedding night.”
He was overbearing. She knew this the moment she met him. And as he tossed and turned her for hours, all she could think about was how right she was. 
He was so overbearing. 
He did make her feel good though. And tired. 
Raven sighed as she woke, she remembered that she had a class. She tried to get out but strong arms wrapped around her.
“Where are you going?” He sounded displeased and even though her mind told her to obey, even though she was sore, she knew she had a class. So, she fought through her desire to comply with whatever he would demand of her.
“I have a class.” She mumbled trying not to shy away from his presence. She was her own person before she met him.
The strong arms that she was wrapped around with were starting to feel familiar to her and he easily pulled her back to his chest. He twisted a little, trapping her between his body weight and the bed.
“Skip it.” He just mumbled back, lips finding her neck.
“I have never skipped a class in my life.” She struggled to escape his stronghold as she spoke.
“Well, there is always a first.” He answered back and she sighed loudly. “Your husband came all the way here to Metropolis to see you. We’ve been apart for long enough. You can afford to skip a class.”
She pinched his arm hoping he would let her go, but he didn’t even flinch. 
“We didn’t get the chance to get to know each other. Why don’t we take this fine opportunity, dear beloved wife?” He whispered into her ear and she stiffened. She felt him angle her body so that her butt touched his growing erection.
She gulped, “You seem to like giving me a lot of pet names.” She tried to focus on other things and refused to move an inch, but he had other plans. 
He pressed himself against her supple ass, rendering her nonmovement useless, “I think ‘beloved’ suits you the most, but I have to get used to the idea of having a wife. With that said, you should call me husband so the idea doesn’t get forgotten, don’t you agree, beloved wife?” He blew against her ear. 
Raven’s eyes were swimming, she couldn’t focus, not with the goliath poking at her butt. 
“Wife?” He sang grinding against her with one stroke of his hips and she gasped and gripped the sheets. She couldn’t see how his lips curled up cunningly.
He really was overbearing. And she was married to him.
When he was done with prying and probing every inch of her body, yet again, he studied the woman before him. She was laying on her back on the bed, her legs spread before him forming an M, her chest rose and fell carefully with eyes glazed and lips ajar. He was kneeling in front of her between her open legs.
His hand traced her collarbone then went down between her breasts and pressed her lower abdomen as he watched his cum slip out of her slit. A soft moan came out from her lips.
Then his eyes suddenly lit up, not with desire but a sharpness that could not be identified as a good or bad sign.
“Are you on birth control?” The question from his lips made Raven wake up from her trance. She propped herself up quickly with wide eyes.
She gasped, “Oh my god! No!” 
The sharpness in his gaze turned dark. “Do you not want children?” His jaws tightened but his companion did not notice this.
“Of course not!” She pulled away from his touch as she twisted and tried to get off the bed. “I have to finish university; I don’t want to be pregnant yet.”
Damian looked pleased with her answer, ‘yet’ was the word that calmed him, not that she noticed his distress. His hand wrapped around her ankle and she was suddenly pulled back to the bed, putting her in the same position she was previously laying.
She looked at him confusedly.
“I will have someone buy you some pills, so don’t worry about it.” He simply stated and all she could do was study him. “But I would like you to decide on what kind of birth control you would prefer in the long run.” 
“Okay.” She quietly answered, she didn’t know why but it felt like he was talking to her like a business partner. Although to be fair, their marriage is business for their families.
He leaned down to her, “I don’t mind you getting pregnant, after all, you are my wife and there is nothing wrong with that. But since you want to focus on your studies, I will adhere to your wishes.” 
With the way he looked at her, she was really convinced that this was merely business for him.
“Alright. I understand.” She repeated meekly.
Damian felt that she sounded like a schoolgirl being scolded by her teacher and he sighed. He then lifted her chin with his fingers.
“Raven,” He called her name and she looked up surprised, eyes locked onto his lips, “You are my wife, and I respect our union even if this marriage is arranged. I will treat you the way you deserve. Do not doubt that.”
She gulped nervously and nodded and he hovered over her body.
“I will deal with whoever tried to make us have this misunderstanding. You do not have to worry about anything. In the meantime, for now, we have to act as if we have not–” His finger swiped her crotch, putting stray liquid back in her, “finalized this marriage.” His green eyes were firm on her face. 
He leaned back into her, his face just above hers, “I will honor this marriage and I hope you can do the same.”
She nodded and he frowned, tugging at her chin and tilting her head closer to his face, “I need words, beloved.”
“I will honor this marriage.” She answered quietly, chest rising from the tension he was causing.
He smiled and it took her breath away.
“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “I will have someone buy us new phones; we shall communicate through them as well as acquire your pills.” He pulled away as he got off the bed.
“It’s best we still keep our old phones and use the new ones to exclusively communicate with one another. We would need to make whoever is behind this plot think we haven’t made contact. And I came here in secret if you are wondering.” He explained as he picked up his phone.  He could feel her eyes on him.
Was it bad that Raven kind of felt like she just made a deal with the devil?
Damian then got back onto the bed and pinned her down.
“Why did it sound like you don’t want my kids?” He suddenly asked, his sharp eyes studying her, “Other than school.” 
“I’m a virgin.” She just answered instantly and he looked like he got punched.
He pulled away, the confusion on his face clear, “What?” His eyes studied her legs.
“What, looking for blood?” Her voice sounded on edge, “Men are always the same.”
She could feel his annoyance as he said, “It’s not like that.”
There was indeed an absence of blood and there was no complaining about pain. A common idea of how female virgins act when their virginity is taken from them.
He brought his lips against her ear, “You seemed to know what you were doing.” His tongue flickered on her ear.
She had placed a hand on his chest and his hand captured her fist. “It seems like you and I are very sexually compatible.” His teeth tugged at her reddened ear. 
She couldn’t answer him, she didn’t know how to. There was a voice in the back of her head agreeing to his words.
And as if to prove their sexual compatibility he fucked her again. Oh and how he did her good.
“Fuck!” She swore, forcing herself to roll off of him after another round of his probing. 
He groaned in disapproval. “Where are you going?” He asked her, his belly lying on the bed.
“I told you I had class.” She glared but struggled to get up. And she looked like she was about to cry, she was so sore. Who said having sex with their husband is magical? She pressed her lips as she sat up.
It was magically painful in ways she didn’t think that her body could possibly ache.
Damian honestly enjoyed seeing her struggle and seeing her bare breasts– among the general bareness of such a beautiful body.
“You know you don’t really need to go to classes physically. You can still get your degree while you're in Gotham.” He drawled, flipping over, not attempting to pull her back into bed which she was grateful for.
His words, not so much.
She glared at him as she stood up gasping with wide eyes and finding her balance, “I’m sorry we can’t be like you– graduating uni at age sixteen.” She hissed, “Oh my gosh.” She whispered leaning on her nightstand.
He shifted in the bed and she suddenly added as she turned away from him, “We can’t all have two degrees–”
“Three actually.” He cut her off and she turned to glare at him.
“Besides, I like seeing my classmates and teachers.” She added gently but the discomfort was clear in her face and in the way she moved or lack thereof.
“I didn't. Which was why I finished uni as fast as I could. Father, however, did not enjoy it and kept putting me to school.” He shrugged and pressed his lips when his wife’s face told him to shut up.
“I’m sorry for being dumb.” She muttered and he didn’t know how to respond.
“If you want to go to school, I won’t stop you. I advocate for education.” He propped himself up on the headboard, the blanket covering his lower regions.
He caught the surprise in her eyes and she nodded with a small happy smile.
“I will be right where you left me, wife.” He said with crossed arms, his eyes filled with joy from seeing his wife filled with marks he made. 
And what a lovely piece of art he made indeed.
Raven absentmindedly nodded and made her way to a door at the side which he assumed was the bathroom. And indeed, it was the bathroom when he faintly heard the sound of water from a shower. 
Once she was out of the bathroom, she shyly changed her clothes with an audience. She supposed she’d have to get used to it eventually. She changed her clothes with her towel still covering her up. 
Raven was sore but she endured and had to cover up really well because of what her husband so graciously left on her entire body. She could feel that this relationship would not be easy or convenient.
Damian could tell she was having a hard time changing but she’ll get used to someone being in the same room. And he still enjoyed the little show. It was like peek-a-boo.
“I’ll go to school now.” She awkwardly said, her eyes trying not to look at him. His abdomen looked so goddamn nice. What the fuck!
“I’ll be right here, where you left me.” He smiled, giving her a little salute and wink. 
Damian was really true to his words; he really was where she had left him by the time she returned home. He was on the bed shirtless and looking over papers. 
She frowned at him, “Don’t you run a multi-million company?” 
He glanced up from the paper he was holding, and she didn’t think he’d look even hotter with the eyeglasses he had on. For someone who was a virgin a few hours ago, was it bad that she could feel herself get wet at the sight?
She gulped down her desires as she anticipated his answer.
“That's what this is.” He raised the paper casually. 
“Don’t you need to be there?” She tried to clear up.
He looked at her thoughtfully, she was still standing by her door. “I still haven't taken my honeymoon leave.” His eyes for the briefest second locked at a certain part of her body with the slightest hint of displeasure. But she had not noticed the very quick change.
She scrutinized his face and body language, was he serious?
He placed the papers on the side table, “I am all naked underneath waiting for your return, beloved wife.” 
It took a moment, but Raven’s face turned crimson when his words sunk into her brain. 
Again, he was true to his words, this was starting to feel like a honeymoon– the one filled with nothing but sex. She wasn’t even sure how she reached his side and how they got to grinding against one another’s naked bodies and moaning.
When he was done, and she calmed from her high with his body over hers on the bed. His hand slipped to one of her hands, caressing her knuckles. There was an absence of a ring on either of her hands.
Raven suddenly said, “I used to do gymnastics.”
He looked really taken aback, not understanding where this was coming from. Thankfully his mind was always sharp. He chuckled suddenly to which she frowned.
“Have you been thinking about that this entire time? While you were at school?” He asked after shaking his head. He glanced down at her and saw her serious face and he reeled in his laughter. “I believed you when you said you were a virgin. It doesn’t matter to me if you weren’t either. But now that we are married, again, I expect loyalty and faithfulness.”
“I don’t think I can handle being with another man with your libido.” She muttered, clearly not paying attention to her words and her eyes widened when she realized what she said aloud.
He laughed heartily, “Good.” He kissed her forehead. 
She had to be honest, she thought he’d scold her. And then she felt his hand caressing her thigh. Ah, there it was.
Raven was sure she was being punished, but fuck was he doing it so gently and all she could do was moan into his hand. He thrust from behind her with a softness that seeped into her heart.
“I hope you kept some of those leotards, I think we can make good use of them.” He whispered hoarsely against her ear, still pounding at her. His hips hit her plump ass. 
He couldn’t tell if the moans into his hand were out of agreement or just pleasure, he was more certain it was the latter, but he had to cover her mouth as she had become rather loud. He didn’t want the neighbors banging on her door.
When they were finished, he wrapped her in his arms and whispered to the exhausted woman, “Which reminds me, I got us our new phones–” He stopped, noticing that she was struggling to keep her eyes open. He kissed her forehead.
“Later then.” He mumbled, closing his eyes.
The fact that she lacked a ring did not escape his mind. 
Raven’s husband had been staying with her for three days. And she had no choice but to miss some classes because of him. Much to her dismay.
And every time she went back home from her classes, he’d be propped up on the bed naked, a blanket over his legs while he read papers and with his eyeglasses on. But now it seemed that he had bought a laptop.
“Oh, I noticed you didn’t have a laptop and printer. They are yours, but as of now I am borrowing the laptop.” He nonchalantly said. She absentmindedly nodded.
Raven did need a laptop and printer for school so she was appreciative. 
He didn’t look up from reading his report, “Oh, by the way, I talked to your landlord. I told him your contract is invalid.”
“What?” She glanced at him. She was making her way to her closet, used to having company now, and was planning to change. She had gotten used to his domineering personality too. 
He glanced up to look at her and she studied his face trying to understand him. 
It dawned on her and she replied with an edge on her voice, “Because I wrote Raven on the contract?” He frowned and she continued on, “You are making a big deal over that?”
He sighed, making her stop as she watched him take off his eyeglasses and placed it on the bed. She pressed her lips, the sight was so hot, that she couldn’t help but admit.
Raven tried not to avoid his gaze and tried to glare at him to focus that she was angry at him. The implications of an invalid contract were less than ideal.
“I don’t care if you write Rachel or Raven,” he said carefully and she looked very confused. “But you are a Wayne.” 
He heard her gasp from where he was and she blinked.
“Would you rather resign the contract or move?” He asked and saw how she frowned when he suggested moving.
“I like my apartment.” She stated simply and he studied her room. He knew he could give her better.
He sighed aloud, it was clear to her that he didn’t like her answer. He reached out for a stack of paper that had a pen clipped on it as he offered it to her, “Here is the contract and sign in properly. I will give it to your landlord.”
Raven was surprised, she thought he would tell her to move. Her feet moved by themselves as she approached him and sat beside him as she took the papers from him. She signed Raven Wayne on the paper and gave it to him for checking. 
She was nervous as she waited for his approval, head cast down. She didn’t even know why she was feeling like this or acting like this. She didn’t see how her husband’s lips twitched seeing her name.
“Alright.” He said and she looked up. She was still expecting him to tell her that she couldn’t stay here. From what she heard of Damian he was the excessive type. And with how he had been handling her in the short time they have been together, she can’t deny the statement.
“Oh, I have something for you.” He said and opened the drawer on the nightstand at his side. She tilted her head at him in confusion. 
What else did he have for her?
Damian pulled out a black velvet box and her brows furrowed to show her confusion.
“I noticed you don’t wear your wedding ring.” He said and she stiffened and he opened the box. “I figure it’s too much for school.” He showed her the wedding set inside the box and her eyes twinkled.
“I had this made, I thought this was more to your taste.” He spoke as if they were talking about the weather. 
It was a gold set of two thin band rings. One was a half eternity diamond ring and the other was a larger solitaire ring. This set was far smaller than the platinum set she got at their wedding. Being that the two-ring platinum set was filled with big diamonds stacked with another bigger diamond. 
The design and appearance of the two sets were similar, an eternity ring with a solitaire diamond on one of the bands. But Raven thought the rings she got at her wedding were so gaudy she was embarrassed to be seen wearing them. And it would be too much for school as Damian pointed out. She was also certain she’d be robbed if she so casually walked around wearing the platinum set. 
With Damian’s free hand stuck out, inviting her to put her hand atop his, he said, “This is just a mere placeholder for now. When I get to the bottom of who is trying to fuck with our relationship and when you are ready, we will go and have something made which fits both our preferences.” 
Raven slipped her hand on top of his and watched him slide the two rings onto her finger and she was surprised by the perfect fit. Though, now that she thought about it, was there really something her husband couldn’t do?
“I was rather upset to see that you didn’t wear any kind of a ring as a placeholder to show that you are married.” He sighed putting her hand down and he reached out to his other hand playing with a ring on his ring finger that she didn’t even realize he had one on until now. “I always wear mine.”
His ring was three-toned, mostly black, but had gold and platinum on it. She would like to say it was simple, but with three colors on it, it clearly wasn’t.
“I’m sorry…” She couldn’t help but mumble, finding the new set on her finger with her other hand. “And thank you.”
He smiled thinly, eyes on her fingers brushing her wedding rings.
“Alright, when you figure things out we’ll go to a jeweler.” She mumbled and he nodded.
Just when she was about to stand up, he grabbed her wrist. And he pulled her to him.
“But now I must welcome my wife home.” He smirked as he watched her eyes widen.
Again. This man always gets what he wants. Though, he could have forced her hand and made her move, but he didn’t.
Maybe this time her spreading her legs for him was to show her silent gratitude that he didn’t force her hand and made her move. But maybe not, once his body touched hers it was like her skin was aflame. Memories of how good he fucks her would flash into her mind like a flash flood and she just can’t think straight.
And God, he really fucks her good.
They had finished yet another passionate moment and the two were cuddling in each other’s arms. Her head rested on his chest as she listened to his steady heartbeat. His hand caressed her arm.
“I think I know what I want for my long-term contraceptive.” She whispered, fingers playing with the curves of his abdomen muscles. For a second, she wondered if he really had a desk job as a CEO and all. How does he have time to work out? 
“Oh? What is it?” He asked, breaking her chain of thought. He pulled away from her and shifted her in his arms so they could gaze at one another.
“I want an implant.” She stared at his eyes. She had thought about it. With his libido and her studies, this sounded… well sound. The best option so she didn’t have to think about taking contraceptive pills or injections on a regular basis. 
She thought that he would say no, but he surprised her again, “Alright, I will arrange a hospital appointment for tomorrow.”
She thought he would say no, but she didn’t expect that he would set an appointment just like that. 
Damian saw how his wife frowned and he kissed her forehead, “It is a good choice, beloved, I don’t mind you getting pregnant.” He squeezed her in his arms briefly. “I can take care of you and our child. But we have to pretend like we have not met since our wedding. I’m still looking into who is trying to screw our marriage up. It would be a problem if everyone believed you were fooling around with someone else and that's how you wound up pregnant.” He sighed into her hair.
He made a very reasonable explanation and she nodded her head that was against his firm chest. 
Yet still, he didn’t argue with her. She was certain that he could have. He could get what he wanted by force. And yet, he didn’t.
His attitude was starting to become endearing for Raven, even his arrogance.
Damian has been staying in her apartment for almost a week now and every time she arrived home she wished and hoped he would have already left. At this point, it’s what she hoped for because his sexual libido was so high she believed she couldn’t handle it. But every time he made a move she couldn’t say no, like quite literally the word disappeared from her mind. And she winds up in various positions with him.
She was convinced that he was right about their sexual compatibility.
Again, she entered her bedroom to see Damian on the bed. The same way he always was when she got home. But it was clear that he was very upset over something as he read the paper in his hands.
Raven studied her room, she realized that their clothes from their latest rendezvous were still scattered on the floor. Only at this moment did she realize that he cleans up the bedroom by the time she comes back from school or even when she is in the shower, but he’d always be on the bed when she reenters her bedroom. 
She picked up his boxers, “Put this on for me.” She tossed it on the bed. 
It appeared that he didn’t even realize that she had returned. Whatever troubles he had, it appeared to be deep. But the moment she spoke, his face softened and he glanced at his boxers and scrunched up his face.
He clicked his tongue and she thought he would say no. But she knew better now, she should not approach the bed because he would have her on her back the second, she was in arms reach.
To her surprise, he reached for the boxers and heaved a sigh, likely a show that he didn’t like what she was asking. He got out of the bed and he was indeed naked underneath the sheets like always.
Raven quickly looked away; she still wasn’t sure how that fit in her.
“You act like you weren’t enjoying this just before you left.” He chided pulling his boxers on and her face turned red. She felt even more embarrassed.
“Can’t you learn to put on clothes?” She rebuked helplessly. He just chuckled at her response.
“I don’t have clothes here.” He innocently answered and she glared at him.
“I’ve seen your bodyguards or whatever the hell they are, I know you ask them to bring you boxers.” She crossed her arms as she looked at him. She was thankful he had bottoms on, but that well-toned body was still distracting. “You can ask them to bring you more than just boxers.”
He shrugs at her casually, “It’s not like I plan to leave any time soon.” 
Raven’s eyes were starting to stray and so were her thoughts. She quickly turned around and cleared her throat, “I will make us dinner and I would like it if you are there with me.”
She didn’t try to argue with him as she knew it would be useless.
She didn’t need to ask him to join her, truth be told, normally he’d follow her around if she decided to cook or if she went out of the bedroom. But this was the first time that she asked him to go with her to the kitchen. She didn’t see it but there was a very happy smile on Damian’s lips.
“Alright.” He replied after clearing the smile off his face, sounding casual and whatever.
Raven didn’t take a peek at him because she knew she would swoon and if he laid his hand on her she’d jump him. She coughed to clear her throat and her naughty thoughts. 
In the kitchen, Raven was cutting a carrot and he sat across the counter watching her in all his shirtless glory. His chest had claw marks from her, but at this point, she was way past being embarrassed. His choice of not wearing clothes for almost a week has trained her eyes and mind to the sight. Thankfully, he would wear his boxers when outside the bedroom, but other than that, he was virtually naked as he stayed in her apartment.
He had a strained smile on his face as he watched her.
“What is it?” She pouted, glancing at him.
“I genuinely enjoy your cooking and the fact that you enjoy cooking for me.” He emphasized each word and she frowned as she stopped chopping. “But I admit my palette is used to world-renowned chefs.”
Raven put down her knife, “So, you’re saying my cooking sucks?” 
He approached her, placing a hand on the counter, and genuinely said, “No, your cooking is superb, beloved.” He smiled and she actually believed his sincerity. It felt like he was radiating truthfulness from his very pores.
Or maybe because the sex was so good, she couldn’t get mad at him. He literally just said her cooking sucks by implying he only eats from some classy chef. But they were married and already fucking so she has to endure his attitude, right? Fuck!
Raven was chewing on her lower lip and he placed a thumb against her lip making her stop.
“I am a picky eater; I won’t deny that. If it isn’t a chef I approve of, I don’t eat the dish.” He spoke.
She wanted to bite his thumb. And to think she had been cooking for him out of the goodness of her heart.
“It’s why I learned how to cook.” It felt like Damian had dropped a bomb on Raven. Her feet were unsteady.
“What?” She almost chuckled as she studied him, “You cook?” She raised a brow at him.
He smiled politely, “Yes and I truly love your cooking,” The sincerity in his eyes was something she could not deny. His hands found her waist. “But let me cook for you this time.”
Damian swiftly pulled her to him and their lips were so close to one another that she was expecting a kiss at the back of her mind. Raven gulped as her eyes locked on his mouth. 
He turned themselves around, exchanging spots with his lovely wife. Then he pulled away quite easily from their contact.
“Alright?” He smiled at her and took a step back, reaching for the knife. “I can make do with these ingredients, but I will have my men buy better ingredients for you as always.” 
Raven hummed a response, having no choice but to watch him. She went and sat down on the seat where he would always sit when he watched her cook. And damn it, she felt so fucking stupid. 
Damian was cooking like he himself was some world-renowned chef! How the hell did he let her make him just sit and watch her cook?
She was utterly speechless and embarrassed. She must have looked like a buffoon.
When he was plating the dish he made, adding the last leaf on the plate he said, “Plating matters too, beloved.”
She wished she could make a snarky remark but the dish he put before her was so beautiful. With the same ingredients, she couldn’t possibly make such a beautiful dish.
Damian tilted his head when he placed the plate before her but she did not move.
“Le-let’s see how it tastes then!” She grabbed the plate and turned around from him. He could tell that she was embarrassed by how red her ears were, but he didn’t point it out.
“How is it?” He instead asked as he walked around the counter and slipped a hand on her lower back.
“Oh, God and I cooked for you?” She looked up at him with her back arched forward, eyes watery. 
His Adam’s Apple bobbed at the sight. A similar image of how she looked right now overlapped in his mind, and it was a very very different kind of image, that of when he would confine her in her bedroom to have some fun.
He cleared his throat, “Sit up properly.” He gently told her and rubbed her back upward briefly. She instantly did what was told and he withdrew his hand from her back. 
Raven was temptation incarnate for him. A seductress. 
And what's worse is that she doesn't know how much she could ignite his desire for her with one flick of her wrist.
“I feel so embarrassed cooking for you.” She admitted in a soft voice and he was surprised.
“What? No.” He stood in front of her and pinned her by placing his hands on the counter that was behind her. “Your cooking is world-class.” 
She pressed her lips as she looked up at him. God, his sincerity was intoxicating.
“I should know. I have expensive tastes.” He stated nonchalantly. 
He watched her glance down at her plate with a soft smile. 
The next thing she knew, her head was lifted up and they shared a kiss. A rather chaste kiss.
Maybe even the first chaste kiss since their wedding. Honestly, quite comparable to the chaste kiss at their wedding. 
“I wish I could stay longer, beloved, but I am needed back in Gotham.” He confessed softly. 
“Oh.” She grabbed her fork and tried to prepare a bite of the food he made. “Well, I can finally take a break from you.”
He wished he could get mad or laugh, but he felt neither emotion at her words. He did wish he could just be with her.
“Oh, don’t go celebrating yet.” He leaned to her, bringing his mouth near her ear. “When I return, you and I both know I will make you regret being happy that I’m leaving right now.”
Damian felt her body stiffen and he smirked. “But for now, let us enjoy our remaining time together.”
And they did. They enjoyed their time together, laughing a little. His hands strayed on her body but never did more. He had texted his men to bring him a fresh suit complete with all his accessories. 
He showered in her bathroom and used her things. He smelled like her and it made her blush. He was adjusting the cuff of his white shirt from under his dark blue suit’s jacket cuff. 
This was the third time she had seen him in a suit. He looked colder, yet still hot. He smelled of her and yet looked like the boss that he was. 
Oh my God. She was gushing. 
And so was her pussy.
“Oh, before I forget.” He looked up at her and she stared at him with wide eyes and a smile trying to think of anything but how he made her feel. “I will pay you back for the rent you paid on the apartment.”
She looked confusedly at him and was about to argue but he raised a hand and she pressed her lips shut.
“It’s my responsibility, and besides, I want to do it.” He looked at her as if he was inspecting a product for his company, at least that is what Raven felt like he was doing. He then pulled out his wallet and handed her two cards. “One is a credit card, buy whatever the hell you want, it doesn’t have a limit. The other is an ATM card. Your allowance from me will be deposited every month on the same date as our wedding day. I placed the money you paid for the rent of this apartment in there along with the allowance I owe you since you've been staying here since our wedding.”
She sucked in her lips and stared at the items he was holding out for her. She licked her lips and he patiently waited for her to accept it.
Raven wanted to reject it, but with one quiet glance at his calm face she knew he wouldn’t allow it. And the thing was, she was surprised that he even remembered their wedding day and was going to give her an allowance on the same date every month. 
After a minute or two passed she nodded her head and sighed as she took a step forward and reached out for the cards. “Thank you…” She mumbled.
Damian was pleased that she took the cards and she could tell. 
His hand reached out and cupped her face and she looked at him. He kissed the top of her head.
"Rachel Wayne." She mumbled reading the names on the cards.
"Rachel is your legal name. Unless you want to change it to Raven, in that case, tell me and I will have it arranged." Everything that came out of Damian's mouth was factual. It's just how he always talked. 
"Wayne. I'm a Wayne." She muttered and he pressed his lips atop her ear. 
"Yes, that's right." He whispered with a sigh.
FIN.
~.~.~.~.~.~
BONUS SCENE:
Damian and Raven's relationship was pretty good. She was still in Metropolis over a year later and he'd visit her often since they reunited.
"Augh, I hate this city," Damian said, glaring at the city by the ceiling to the floor window in their apartment.
Raven rolled her eyes, she had known him long enough, he was baiting her.
"You'd rather I finish uni in Gotham?" She asked, of course, she'd still bite.
He turned to look at her thoughtfully, "I suppose it's safer here." He answered as he always does when she asks him if she should go back to Gotham.
He placed her safety a priority, something she noticed fairly quickly since they started a relationship with one another.
She no longer lived in the apartment where they reunited after their wedding; due to the frequency of his visits her former apartment became too small. You’d think he’d respect her space, but somehow, he started taking up so much space in her apartment that she had no choice but to suggest moving. 
Damian of course moved her to a high-rise with a great view and space that was way too big for just them. He had come by to help her move and had stayed ever since, helping her adjust and arrange their apartment. 
She was convinced he purposely took up so much space in her previous apartment so she would move to a bigger ‘safer’ apartment that he of course chose and showed her just as fast as when she suggested moving. 
It seemed planned is what she was saying. But still, he had wormed his way to her heart that she could not find a flaw to what he did, that is if he really did it.
"You always say you hate it here." She mumbled as she reached out for his waist with both arms and embraced him.
"It's bright." He answered, enjoying her warmth.
She never understood what he meant by that. 
"Well, anyway," She pulled her head away and glanced up at him, "I have to go, I need to meet some classmates for a project."
He studied her and said, "Why don't I join you?"
She laughed, shaking her head, "Your face is rather well known, I wouldn't want my classmates to be intimidated by you."
She pulled away from his hold turning around.
"I can wear a hat and sunglasses." He followed her and she paused then turned to him.
"Hmm… Alright." She agreed with a soft smile on her lips.
"I won't be a bother." He promised.
And as always, he was true to his words. When he went to the bathroom and was about to return to her side, Damian heard her friend ask why her husband was wearing a beanie that covered his ears and dark sunglasses.
"Oh, he is sensitive about his hair and he got a terrible eye infection..." He frowned at her lie.
He stepped out from his hiding spot and kissed his wife, "Oh, what are you talking about, beloved?"
"Oh, you know, how best to do this paper," Raven answered calmly.
He just smiled. But the moment they got back home, he pinned her to the door and whispered hoarsely.
"So, I'm balding?" He asked as he pulled the beanie off his head and to the floor. His black thick and luscious hair shone against the light coming from their windows.
Quite the opposite of what she had just made her classmate believe.
Her eyes widened in realization and she pressed her lips as she reached out to remove his sunglasses. "And with an eye infection." She whispered back seriously, tossing the shades away too.
"I will have to punish you." He said, pressing her by the arch of her ass against his hips.
"I know, for being caught." She sighed, and she could feel his erection on her lower abdomen.
He chuckled, "Well, for lying." His tongue licked the curve of her ear.
When the punishment was done and she was sprawled on the bed, lying on her belly, he caressed her hair. 
"I hope you don't lie often." He told her with a dark tone in his voice. 
She understood his implications. With how the two grew closer even if it was just a glance she could tell what he wanted to convey to her. He was the same with her. 
"I don't lie about being married." She whispered, and his face softened. The answer to the question that was never truly asked.
"Good." He scooched over to her side, his crotch pressed against the side of her hip as he littered her shoulder with kisses.
She sighed, closing her eyes, but also refusing to move. If she moved the thing pressed on her side would wake up instantly and she'd be done for. Not that she couldn't tell that it was starting to stir. But if she didn't move, her husband wouldn't either.
"Which reminds me," He pulled his head away from her shoulder and her skin was relieved of the pressure pressing on her thigh. He laid on his side and she turned her head towards him with curious eyes. "I'm transferring to Metropolis."
"What?" Raven propped herself up a little with her confusion clear in her face and voice. He never talked about this before.
He should feel some form of displeasure with her reaction. At least he thought he should because it would seem like she wasn't happy with the news. But he felt calm.
"With how frequently I visit it seems impractical to stay in Gotham." He explained gently and he watched her eyes widen as a soft blush appeared on her cheeks. Maybe this was why he didn't feel upset, he knew her like the back of his hand. Unconsciously he must have known that her confusion was not because she didn't want him here.
"I made plans with Father, and I will be stationed here for the time being as you finish uni. Thank God Wi-Fi exists, it will make this transfer seamless." He smiled at her and she cupped his face.
"You'll be here every day?" She whispered, brushing his cheek with her fingertips. The excitement on her face was clear.
"Yes." He whispered back, snuggling near her.
Then suddenly her eyes widened in fear, "Then you need to control yourself." She poked his shoulder and he chuckled.
At first, he was afraid that she didn't want him here but then understood why she was scared. The fear wasn’t unfounded.
"Oh, whatever do you mean." Damian blinked innocently.
"I'm serious, Dami, if you expect me to spread my legs every day– I'm moving." She stared at him and the smile on his lips was wiped off his face.
"Do not threaten me, beloved." He responded, darkness brewing in his aura.
"I'm serious. I have school." She did not back down. She knew him and she knew he almost always followed her lead no matter what.
He sighed aloud, and then again while he looked away and then one more time. "We'll arrange something."
Damian reached for his wife's waist and buried his face on the side of her shoulder. But she could tell he was pouting. He had actually stuck his lower lip but she couldn't see that.
His libido was really something even after a year he didn't show any signs of not being turned on by her. Though, to be honest, she was the same. 
The moment he'd pin her down and the desire was clear in his eyes, she got so wet. It didn't matter if she was exhausted from school, she'd strip without him even asking.
She recalled what he told her so long ago, "We really are sexually compatible." 
He looked up from her side with wide eyes gazing at her and his eyes sparkled as a smile bloom.
"I have to agree, beloved." His love for her is clear in those beautiful green eyes.
"We'll make it work; we always do."
Put This On Me: Graduation Gift
Raven had no regrets about the birth control that she chose. Sometimes she'd wake up the next day after their midnight sessions thinking that she forgot to take the pill. 
Then she remembers that she has an implant. 
Her burst of fear of an unexpected pregnancy always came after several rounds of fucking from her husband especially when he goes all out for a couple of days straight.
Currently, she was looking out at the city through their apartment window in their living room. When she woke up this morning she had a little burst of fear, yet again. Which was why she was thinking about her birth control.
They've been together for almost four years but gosh was he built differently.
Strong arms wrapped around her body from behind.
"You're graduating soon." He mumbled against her shoulder and she leaned back to him. 
"In a few months." She reminded him.
One of his hands was now on one of her shoulders and the other snaking down to her lower abdomen. "What do you think of a baby for your graduation gift?"
She froze. She knew there was a reason for her unreasonable pregnancy scare. She swatted his hands and stepped away from him. "Not yet."
He sighed and studied her back.
"I want to work first." She turned to look at him.
"You can work for me." He answered immediately and she rolled her eyes. Her eyes locked at his dress shirt collar and she took a step closer and fixed his collar for him.
"If you had your way, you would just have me on your desk panting and moaning, I'm sure." She clicked her tongue and noticed how he bit his bottom lip lustfully and she shook her head but still smoothened his shirt of invisible wrinkles. He had strong pecs.
One of his hands slipped onto her upper spine and slid down to her lower waist pulling her closer to him and she gasped, "Well, then what would my beloved wife want for her graduation gift?"
His eyes looked down at her softly.
"Hmm, I don't know." She admitted.
"Really a no to having a baby?" He asked again with a boyish smile. She giggled at him.
"Hmm, I will have to think about that." Her hand reached out for his black tie, then suddenly tugged at it bringing his face closer to her, "But while I do, you can use it for some sexy dirty talk." She licked her lips.
"Well, don't mind if I do…" He leaned down and captured her lips.
"Doesn't the thought of you pregnant as you get your hard-earned diploma hot, beloved?" He whispered to her kissing her neck and she smiled. She didn't mean for him to do it at this very instant, but God was this man insatiable. "Or maybe– imagine, you accepting your diploma with my cum tightly clenched inside you? Considering how often you are taking in my cock in your tight pussy.”
She choked at the visuals he was painting for her. She felt his teeth tug at her ear as he continued on, “How many times did you fuck me before going to school? Or how many times you went to your classes with my fresh cum still in that naughty pussy? Or when your first meal is my dick.”
Raven’s face was red. She was now regretting telling him to use it for dirty talk.
“Tell me beloved, what would be written in your diploma, Master’s Degree of sucking cock?” His voice had become hoarse and Raven was breathless, “Masters of my dick?” His lips sucking on her ear.
She regrets it. But she also felt the need to fight him back. She was also very embarrassed by his words. She tugged at his tie, making him pull away from her ear. She stared at him seriously.
“On the note of graduation day,” Her free hand brushed the buttons on his shirt. “Should I be completely naked underneath the graduation gown?” This time it was her turn to whisper in his ear.
She felt his body tense up.
This was something she knew to be a fact. Damian was the jealous type. 
“In that case, I will buy you the gown and we can use it in the bedroom.” She thought she could hear his teeth grinding. The flirtiness disappeared from his voice.
Raven smirked; it was her win. 
Another thing she noticed about her husband, he didn’t even like the thought of someone possibly seeing her in any potentially suggestive way. He rarely vocally object, sometimes he’d make a face, but she could always tell when he didn't like it when someone looked at her in the wrong way for even just a second. 
She would notice how his cold face would change on a micro level when she purposely wore a dangerously short skirt or a really revealing outfit. But he had only told her to change clothes a couple of times since they'd been married. All of which were outfits she wore on purpose to see his bottom line. Still, he rarely says his objections but often she can tell when he doesn't like something.
She looped his tie around her hand, “In that case, we can pretend you're the professor, and I, your naughty student.”
It was clear that he wasn’t happy, “Is there a hot professor I didn’t know about?” 
He knows her classmates and her teachers but Raven thinks this is the first time he sounded threatened by a teacher she randomly mentioned.
She studied her husband’s face, it seemed that he was riding his jealousy. “Hmm, hotter than my husband? Quite impossible.” She let go of his tie and placed both her hands on his chest as she rubbed his torso soothingly.
“Then why the professor suggestion?” He quietly asked and she sighed.
“I was thinking you were my hot professor.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he still wasn’t convinced. 
In all the years that they had been together, he was often cockier than not, but very rarely he would show her this side of him. Uncertain and unsure, so opposite from how the whole world perceived him. 
A man who knows what he wants and gets it without fail.
Damian was often gentle towards her. The only time he'd be rough was during sex. But unsure of himself? Rarely.
“About the baby…” She watched him carefully and it seemed to have caught his attention. He stared at her as he waited for her to continue. “In a few more years, I promise.”
She saw the small smile on his face as the uncertainty disappeared which turned to a gentleness in his demeanor that honestly made her swoon. 
“A baby?” He smiled as his hands found her waist. “Then I’ll have to start looking for our future home with our children.” He said dreamily, there was this softness on his face that tugged at her heart. How could he easily make her swoon and wet in mere seconds? 
“Children?” She ventured, eyes carefully observing his face.
“One is not enough.” He answered back in a quieter voice. No hint of doubt on his face but the volume of his voice might say otherwise. Yet, it was just factual to him, that much she could tell.
She smiled and leaned her forehead against his jaw, “Hmm, you’re always right, beloved.” Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he hugged her back with his muscled arms around her waist.
There was clear surprise in his eyes at her words but he smiled and pressed his upturned lips against her temple. 
He was going to have a family with her. Even if their marriage was arranged, he was happy and excited for their future. He was glad he married her.
"Our fifth wedding anniversary is coming around the corner too. How about another wedding as your graduation gift?" He whispered and Raven pulled away looking up at him with wide eyes. "One where we profess our love and where we plan the wedding the way we actually want it."
She smiled brightly. "I don't think that's a graduation gift." And she saw how his lips were about to frown, she quickly added. "It's a gift for a lifetime."
She watched her husband's tan cheeks flush at her words.
"I love you."
FIN.
~.~.~.~.~.~
A/N:
Well, in the book I read the couple got married, she got shipped out on their wedding night and they never met for like 3-5 years. Apparently, they tried calling each other but only to hear that the number is out of service. And the two knew each other since childhood tho still arranged (and forced) marriage, but still you’d think someone would go find the other. So, this is me coping.
And I still don’t know why they were getting ‘out of service’ when they called each other. 
And then the image of Damian naked but with a blanket over his legs working on the bed with eyeglasses on was stuck in my mind and so I decided to use it here. It also makes sense to me in modern AUs that Damian is cocky. On Modern AU notes, I have like 3 on my drafts with cocky Dami because I was inspired. 
I didn’t even think I would participate too, I wrote this in a few hours in a span of a couple of days. I am impressed but this is also rushed. And I do have some other bonus scene ideas floating currently in my head. But this is already quite long so, maybe I might dump it somewhere, one day. (11/16/23, I do not remember what I had planned, but I will keep this here, so I know that I did at one point. I think one was about the wedding.)
I thought that using the line “Put This On For Me” in this manner would be unique. Which also drove me to write, but it took a while to get there. I think the common thing people would think when they see this line is some sexy outfit. So doing the opposite really called to me.
And if someone is going to ask why the sexy is like that, I am still traumatized from writing smut. There was a time I was writing 5 different smut scenes back-to-back… it left an impression. I can write it if I don’t think about it, but it’s something I have to think about most of the time to write so…it’s hard… anyway…
Before I forget, the end of the bonus scene and the graduation gift, who said it is up for your interpretation, maybe even they said it both.
And to add, in my head this Raven attended college or uni later than normal.
Hope you guys enjoyed it.
Ciao.
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richard, on a monday
richard was becoming annie's favorite patient. he didn't like that word though. "client," he said. "i consider this an investment, you know? it's all part of the mindset."
richard was wealthy, a self-made businessman, CEO of a decent-sized local software firm. annie had heard of him before because he was often popping up in mental health circles -- he was a strong advocate for it. annie had read a few of his linkedin posts before he'd sought her out.
richard's backstory was that his wife had died of breast cancer pretty young, and he'd gone to therapy and became a convert. the dead wife stuff was long past him now, but he made a point to continue his therapy, and, he told annie, keep it visible on his calendar, visible to all employees, to encourage them to seek therapy as well.
when he'd come to her, annie had briefly assumed richard just saw lots of younger female therapists, but in fact, his longtime therapist, a man, had retired. annie couldn't find any red flags.
and she really loved talking to him. he was a good talker, very self-analytical and sometimes even too self-critical. but also funny, and observant, and curious. she learned a lot from his observations. it made sense to annie that he was successful in business. after their first session, he'd added her on linkedin, which annie was charmed by. she looked at some recent photos he'd posted from paris with a beautiful woman about her age, maybe a little younger, who seemed to be his daughter.
she learned in his second session that it was in fact his daughter, who was an artist and who lived in paris in a flat he paid for.
"that must be amazing for her," she said.
"and me," he said. "it's a wonderful thing to be able to do that for your daughter."
"what is her medium?"
"mostly photography," he said. "i'll bring you in some of her work."
he did just that next week, bringing in a folder of black and white film photographs in a file folder. annie looked them over. they seemed nice to her eyes -- maybe a little basic. landscapes, architecture, portraits. there was one she liked best -- a nude self portrait. she was quite pleased that richard would have such a thing, that his daughter would show it to him, and that he'd choose to show it to her. in the photo, she's holding the camera at stomach level, photographing herself in a dusty, full-length mirror in what looks like an old-school dressing room. she has a cigarette in one hand, her hair is messy, and she has a nice, thick, dark bush.
"your daughter looks very authentically french," annie observed.
"it's true," richard said. "she speaks french more than english, it's even drifting into her speech in english when she calls me. it's the place for her."
"she's very beautiful," annie said. "i mean, the work is beautiful too, but she's stunning."
"you remind me a bit of her, honestly." richard said. annie hadn't clocked much of a resemblance, really. they were both slim, tall, dark-haired women, but very different faces. "in personality, I mean," he said. "warm but professional -- clearly experts in your field. you have a more academic way of talking, of course."
"i do?" annie said, surprised.
" yes," he said. "well-read, erudite. i promise i haven't been analyzing you, it's just something i notice."
"you can analyze me," annie said, just a little flirty.
the picture of his daughter naked was on top of the folder on the table between them.
"it speaks well of you that she'd show you a photo like this," annie said.
"well, she's very french in that she's very open about her body," he said. "that's kind of new, just the last year and a half or so. i remember going over there to see her like three months in and you know, she was making dinner for us in vintage silk panties and a sweater, and just being sort of overwhelmed, you know, my daughter is now an adult, and also she suddenly reminds me of her mother."
"her body reminds you of her?"
"well, yeah," he said. he gestured at the photo. "i mean, same breasts. same hips."
"how did that make you feel, seeing it?"
"well, i guess it was kind of beautiful, you know, her mother's legacy."
"did you tell your daughter that?"
"yes."
"what was her reaction?"
he laughed. "she took her clothes off."
"really?" annie said. "like right then and there?"
"she was only in the lace panties and the sweater, and they were both thin enough that -- i mean, i could see the bush already, you know? but she took them off."
"what were her intentions there?"
"i'm not sure exactly," he said. "i think it was sort of... i think she was really grateful for the life i had given her, and sad that her mother was gone, and sort of wildly embracing stepping into that role."
"what did she do exactly to step into that role?" annie said.
he laughed. "nothing happened," he said. "but she climbed into my lap and straddled me and hugged me.
"that's sweet," annie said. "and a little fraught."
"absolutely," he said. "it was definitely vaguely sexual."
"daughters who have fathers they admire..." annie mused. "yeah i mean, there's no escaping it. it can be sexual."
"do you admire your father?"
"very much so," annie said. and then laughed.
"so you speak from experience?"
"experience of those feelings? absolutely."
"not the experience of getting naked for your father."
"well, my father sees me naked," annie said. she could feel her skin heating up from talking about her own naked body in front of richard. "but if he told me I reminded him of my mom I think maybe I'd be a little offended."
"you don't have a great relationship with her."
"not at all," she said.
"why do you think that is?"
"honestly? when i developed and became a woman, she kind of froze me out. i'm very open and communicative with my father and brother and almost never speak to my mom."
"that's too bad," he said. "for her, i mean. it's on her to make that effort."
"you and your daughter talk often?"
"we email on the days we can't facetime."
"dads love facetime," annie said.
"we like seeing your faces," he said.
for some reason, annie told him the story about her dad and the ipad. they were over their time for the day but she liked talking to him.
"that's cute," he said. "honestly my daughter has answered my calls naked more times than i can count."
"i like that," annie said. "i like that trust and honesty. even if for her there's a slight freudian slant."
he chuckled. "yeah, i like it too."
"has she ever seen you?" annie asked.
"you know, when in france," he said. "she has a pretty open flat, the shower is not in the bathroom, there's really not much of an enclosure for it, just glass."
"VERY european," annie said. she told him the story about alice and her father on the nude beach -- not referring to alice as a patient, just a friend. she embraced this minor ethical lapse as central to her style.
"funny, you know, i was just wondering like, am i the only dad in the world with pictures of his adult daughter naked on his phone?"
annie laughed. "you're not! and do you mean her photography or other stuff?"
"she also sends me selfies," he said. "you know just casual photos of herself around the flat. she's often not wearing much, or just nothing."
"that's unusual," annie said. "but not bad, i don't think. kind of nice. very intimate."
"i like the intimacy of it, too," he said. "and you're like that with your father?"
"totally," annie said. "i feel very safe and open with him, i tell him absolutely everything."
"i feel like my daughter is pretty honest. i think she tells me everything."
"does she tell you about doing drugs?"
"yes."
"and about people she's sleeping with? i don't necessarily mean sexual details but is she not obfuscating the fact that she's fucking them?"
he laughed. "yeah, she tells me."
"then she's telling you everything."
"that's nice to know. it's kind of like having a little spy camera inside my daughter's brain, talking to a woman like you."
"if my dad wanted a camera in my brain i wouldn't object to it," she said.
annie thought about that when she got home, lightly reconsidering. she was very horny and very stoned and was rather enjoying the way robbie's eyes followed her as she walked around the apartment in nothing but a thin pair of white panties. at one point, she followed him into the bathroom and playfully held his cock again while he pissed.
"you're very frisky tonight," he observed.
"i had a good session with Mr. CEO today," annie said. "i have a big crush on him."
"you want to go jerk off about it?" robbie asked. "i could cum."
they went to the bedroom, and annie put porn on the TV. she slipped off her panties and hopped onto the bed and watched robbie pull off his jeans. his cock popped out, already hard. he laid down and started stroking himself, looking over at annie, rubbing her clit. neither one of them was looking at the TV. "you're so hard," annie cooed at one point. he just chuckled and kept stroking. with her free hand, annie toyed with her right nipple. she gathered spit from her mouth and rubbed it across her nipple. "you have such great fucking tits," robbie said.
"you wanna cum on them?" annie invited.
"seriously?" he said.
"i'm so horny don't make me ask for things twice," annie said.
robbie moved to his knees, his cock inches from annie's face.
"god it's so big," annie said. he shot his cum on her. she felt it hit with a warm splatter and immediately started to cum. "oh my GOD" she said. he unloaded several ropes. when he was done, annie looked at the drop of cum still at the tip of his cock, sat up, and sucked once at the head of his cock, feeling the cum on her tongue. robbie laughed. "wow," he said.
"i told you i get even hornier when i cum," annie said.
"you came too?"
"the second your cum hit my skin," she said. "i would literally do anything you asked me right now."
he laughed. "good," he said. he got up and left her on the bed. "you look good like that," he said. he got his phone from his pants and took a picture of annie on her bed with his cum all over her breasts. she smiled for him.
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mapofthesea · 2 years
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PREVIEW
If you’re reading this, the full story is out now!
Hi lovely readers, here is a little preview of my upcoming poly!rapline fic! as requested by y'all on my poll. I hope to have the full version out by the end of the week! This is pulled directly from the fic, so it’s not the full scene at all but is a part that I want to use as a little teaser. Happy reading :)
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ceos!rapline x reader, afab!reader, poly!rapline, bi!rapline
genre: smut (pwp), fluff
warnings (specific to ONLY this preview, not the whole fic): oral (m receiving), sloppy head, dom!namjoon x sub!reader, grinding (on his shoe *dies*), dirty talk, joon is on a work call while she sucks his cock
You were in the middle of a new painting when he called you to his office; hands flecked with dry paint and still in yesterdays’ pajamas but you dropped everything and rushed over. It had been like that as long as you could remember- you more than happy to be at your boyfriends’ beck and call as you got to reap the benefits of their job status. It didn't always end up like this when you visited but there’s no denying the spark of pleasure that rides up your spine as Namjoon silently commands you from above.
He’s already hard beneath his work pants; the expensive silky material stretching around his impressive length. You clench your naked thighs together and pull on his waistband to undo the button and slide down the metal fly. He offers you nothing but a tick of his jaw as you work and the idea drives you crazy, hips rocking uselessly against the air.
He sighs, and you can’t tell if it's because of the phone call or because you’ve wrapped your delicate hand around his length, tugging at him gently until you have a firm grasp on the base.
You’ve done this enough to know that getting right to work will get you what you need faster, and there’s no denying how much you love sucking his cock.
The head is leaking salty precum and you fight the urge to moan as you lick at it and sample his familiar taste. Wetness pools between your legs and your eyes roll back as you gather more of him in your throat. The stretch is pleasant and grounding; familiar enough that you feel an odd sense of peace wash over you as you swallow around his thickness.
He drops a hand to your hair to push it away from your eyes, gently tucking the pieces behind your ears. You smile around your mouthful of his cock. Saliva dribbles from your lips into your lap and you flush as if the reality of your situation had just hit. Namjoon ruts his hips, clearly unhappy with your pausing, and you double down. It doesn’t take long for the sounds to become overwhelming the lewd squelching of your tongue working over his cock that you hope can't be heard over the phone.
“Is that my job? Or is that not exactly what I fucking hired you to do? I pay you way too much for you to be so god damn stupid.” The venom in Namjoon’s voice makes your head spin. Although the words aren't directed at you, the serious tone of his voice is so familiar that your pussy hums and your hips rock forward desperately; searching for the friction your plush thighs can't provide.
You whine, hoping to draw his attention enough that he'll end the call, but he just shakes his head and taps his foot. Tears of frustration brim hot behind your eyes and his soften just a bit, pointedly glancing down between your thighs where his foot continues to tap. You pull off of his cock, wiping your mouth as you recollect yourself and try to put together the pieces he’s offering to you. He must read your confusion because he tangles his hand in your hair anew, angling your head down to look below yourself.
His foot; clad in an expensive, shiny leather boot stares back at you. He taps it again, and your head swims. Is he suggesting what you think he is? Hot anticipation strikes your veins as he speaks again.
“You’re right. That’s what I want you to do.” You know he's still on the call; as he still only uses one hand to guide you back to his cock, but the double edged meaning of the sentences affirms you.
Your head spins and speeds up all at the same time as you lower yourself enough that you can keep some of his cock in your mouth at the same time your pussy grazes the material of his shoe.
It's cold and firm, and your mind goes blank as you rut against it. He flexes his foot to adjust the pressure against your clit and you go wild, heart pounding in your chest as you speed up. Out of all the debauched things you’d done in your life of dating your boyfriends, grinding against shoes worth more than your car payment is near the top of the list. Your stomach tightens with every drag and you’ve all but abandoned sucking his cock; just holding it in the warmth of your mouth as you let out pathetic little moans.
Your orgasm approaches rapidly, punctuated when you look down to see how your juices leave a shiny, sticky trail over his boot. Your heart stammers and you can feel your oncoming release only seconds away when a loud, reverberating bang ruptures your focus. Namjoon’s cock falls completely out of your mouth as you squeak, but your body is so close to the edge of pleasure that you hips keep moving shamelessly. You have no idea who or what just came into his office; but you can't find it in yourself to give a shit.
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sketchfanda · 1 year
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Chestnut Stud across the Multiverse: Korra’s senpai.
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Satan city locals couldn’t help but turn their heads at the couple walking hand in hand and really, who could blame. It wasn’t everyday you saw a sensational pro fighter and the ceo of a high grade mechanical manufacturing firm thst could compete with against capsule corp out in public. Especially together as a couple, not that it was scandalous or anything mind you, it just wasn’t often you saw out in the open like this, but Damn if they weren’t quite the picture perfect example of opposites attract. A stunning elements high class beauty who you know could live the good life and enjoy the finer things,and a rough tough tumble toned amazonian beauty of a tomboy. Their height difference distinct with the tomboy, Korra at 5 foot 7 and her lover Asami at an even 6 feet tall. If anything the only scandal would be what these two were getting up and the purpose for which was bringing them toeards their pending destination. One of Satan city’s 5 star hotels, with the penthouse suite booked for them and their guests for this little secret get together for the day. Yes sir,Asami Sato and her lovely gal Korra had a spicey side to their love life and this evening woild be no different. Especially for Korra who couldn’t really contain any sense of giddiness or excitement, and with good reason of course. Asami:”I have to say Korra,I don't think I've ever seen you so excited before. makes me feel rather jealous,you naughty girl you...”*walking hand in hand with her girlfriend in satan city,on their way to a high class hotel. Their choice of evening wesr stylish yet casual,her sensual feminine classy elegance in contrast to her lover. A bemused expression her face at how eager her water tribe she-stallion seemed* Korra:”What,really? Silly me,sorry babe, I just can't help it, I mean it's been a while since I’ve seen my old senpai. I Mean you’re the one who asked for the juicy details and arranged this little get together..”*the amazonian to buy teased playfully. A slight blush on her face and a catlike grin of delight on her expression.*
Asami giggled as she gave Korra a kiss on the cheek, curious to get to know this “senpai” quite well herself and likely as intimately. As they entered the hotel,getting their copy of the keycard from reception as the concierge informed them their fellow guests had arrived. Which made their pulses skyrocket as they got into the elevator,passing the time in the steady ascent of the compartment to cop a feel of one another. A simple casual makeout session as they assaulted one another’s bodies with some heavy petting to add fuel to the growing fire of lust and passion, burning between them for each other as well as what they were about to do. Faces flushed red as they stepped out the lift to make their way towards the penthouse suite door. Soon as Asami opened it with the keycard, they were greeted by the sight of a certain 5 foot compact fighter turned cop and his blonde bombshell of a wife, with Korra closing the distance gap between them as she hugged the cue ball. Her 7 inches of height different to him causing his head to be sandwiched between the valley of her bodacious boobs. Asami giggling at Krillin’s expression as did 18, before watching eith sensual delight as Korra planter her lips on his, giving him quite the passionate, lust fuelled kiss.
Korra:*purring as she broke the kiss,a little trail of saliva between them,panting slightly to control her racing heartbeat.* “Mm senpai it’s been way too long,you naughty man…”*she teased,giggling st the deadpan indigntsnt expression Krillin gave her, before she gasped and moaned as Krillin sudden,t gave her denim clad ass a swift slap,followed by grabbing and squeezing it. The well toned booty a lot more bubbly than it seemed.*”ooooh so forceful Sendai…but I’d expect nothing less from the stud who ruined me for other men…”
Krillin:*despite the grimace he wore on his face,he wasn’t hesitating in copping a feel of the tomboy’s amazonian beauty of a work of art of a body.*”There you go again, being so damn impulsive…”*rolling his eyes as Korra playfully stuck her tongue out at him and at the giggles 18 and Asami sent his way.* “but hey let’s not best around the bush huh? You came all this way and what not so let’s get right to it…”
Soon as he finished saying that,he began to strip, Asami humming sensually in approval whole Korra licked her lips with erotic anticipation. 18 herself stripping down to absolute nudity as she let the lair enjoy her compact hubby’s physique on display, a Herculean work of art with only his boxers remaining on as he sat in the edge of the mattress of the queen sized bed. Korra and Asami purring as eyed him up and down. Soon the tomboy found her lover pressing herself to her,as they began to make out. Giving Krillin a little lesbian show to which 18 added herself to the mix,her hands joining theirs in stripping them,as their lips and tongues all danced together in a blurry heat of growing passion. The sight of the erection now pitching a tent in the shirt king’s boxers spurring them on as soon Korra and Asami were now naked,their curvy bodies varying in their muscle tone,Korra’s from an intense workout routine while Asami despite her feminine grace knew her way around working and handling heavy machinery. They alongside 18 striking sensual poses for his enjoyment,before Korra strode over to kiss and make out with her senpai once more,kissing down along his torso with lusty thirst, soon kneeling on the carpeted floor as she tugged down his boxers. Removing them and throwing them aside as she licked her lips with eagerness. Rubbing his balls and grasping his raging hard cock, stroking as it as she looked at Asami like she was presenting and singing the praises of a national treasure.
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Korra:*a shameless lewd look on her face,you’d swear pink hearts were glowing in her lust hazed eyes.*”Mmm just look at it asami, this length and girth..this is a real man right here. The feel,the taste, the scent….”*she couldn’t contain herself any more,as she began plant licks and kisses on Krillin’s cock. Soon latching her lips on it to suck and blow, drowning it with her saliva.*
Asami couldn’t find it in her make a witty comeback, too entranced by the sight of her butch tomboy lover acting like such a butch in what as she lavished oral worship on Krillin’s manhood. In the blink of an eye she wasted no time in joining them. Pressing her lips to his as they made out, hands massaging that muscular torso as she kissed her way down along physique, soon joining Korra in tagteaming him with a tandem blowjob. Hands rubbing her slit as she felt how wet she was, arousal skyrocketing at seeing her lover do the same. Now she can see how and why Korra had been so vivid in the details she shared about stories of her old senpai, the man she gave her first time to, a stud so amazing sexually thst it’s small wonder she proclaimed he ruined her for other men. Something she was going to thank him for,as they continued to shower his cock with lusty licks and kisses. Asami leaving red kiss marks thanks to her lip stark, marking his shaft and balls SWAK (sealed with a kiss). 18 of course licked her lips with delight at the display before her, soon joining them as she added her own mouth and tongue to the mix. Krillin could only tilt his head back to groan as the sensation and vision of his wife and two very kinky,horny lesbisexuals (bicurious lesbians) assaulted his manhood with their mouths and tongues. The 3 way blowjob soon rewarding their stunning fellatio skills as he erupted, his dick spraying with white hot scream. Catching it in their mouths and on their faces, making out with each other to clean it off as Krillin lied back on the bed, catching his breath.
Korra:*sensually grinning as she pried herself away from Asami and 18, climbing onto the bed as she straddled her former senpai, mounting him and grinding her slit against his still hard cock.*”Mmm, your protein tastes as good as I remember senpai,but I know you’re not done by a long shot…”*gasps as she felt Krillin grab and squeeze her bubbly booty.*”Oooh there we go…that’s the senpai I remember. Make sure You give Asami your A game,you sex machine you..”
Krillin:”don’t get cocky with me,You cheeky girl…”*h quipped good naturedly,as he pumped snd thrust his cock into Korra’s pussy,making her toes curl and her spine arch,glowing hesrts in her eyes once again as they smacked their loins together in the ancient intimate dance of man and woman. Bouncing her muscular form as she rode that cock,letting her senpai bring them together to the peak of ecstasy. Just like this one glorious night together so long ago..*
Asami looked in with awe and arousal at seeing her proud,powerful Korra scream like the bitch in he’s she was being taken and claimed as. Seeing her and Krillin roll around between a mating and Amazon press, the sigh of their loins connected in that lewd,intimate embrace of sexual mating. 18 sitting behind her,idly making out with her as she squeezed her tits and kissed along her neck and shoulders to lock lips with her. Their tongues dancing together as Sato Corp heiress continued to probe her own pussy with her naughty fingers. The penthouse suit filling with the echoes of erotic moans and the smacking of skin on skin. 18 knew this little get together would be fun, but who knew Krillin’s old training kouhai was such a junkie for her man and his amazing oak tree class cock? Then again this was her husband she was talking about, him having a way with women and leaving an erotic impact on them was his best way of making a first impression for a good reason. Knowing Asami would become just as much of a chestnut junkie soon as she got her turn. Breathing in the scent of her perfume, waiting for thst sweet moment when Korra would get a nice wombfull soon as Krillin blew his load, which was more or less the unofficial signal for switching and changing up.
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Asami:”Oooooh fuuuuck!! This is amazing! Aahn I’m losing my mind!! Aah Korra,we should,no we need to marry this man! One night isn’t enough!! More senpai,more,fuck me,fuck me!” *Indeed Asami was hooked the moment that felt that immense length and girth penetrate her. Taking it in missionary as Krillin thrust like a jackhammer,her legs hooked around his shoulders,hands squeezing her ass as he slapped and played it like a bongo drum. Tits bouncing,mouth drooling as a few mere inches from them,Korra and 18 laid atop one another in a 69, making out with one another’s pussies, the blonde cyborg lapping away at thse overflow of excess jizz from Krillin’s prior orgasm. The heiresss experiencing truly first hand why Korra held her former senpai in such high regard.*
18:”Mmm that’s it girls,you want to make this foursome official,earn your keep and show m the effort you’re gonna put in…”*the deadly beauty quipped erotically,riding her husband in reverse cowgirl. Moaning as she rode that sick with intimate familiarity,as she fingered Asami and Korra, who kissed and licked her body with sexual worship. Making out with her with sloppy kisses or suckling away at her bouncing titties. Krillin gif course being teased with just the sight of their splendid backsides and their glistening skin.*
The foursome showed no signs of stopping, even as dusk was starting to set in, the room bathed in the colours of the sunset as they went about two pairs of swinging,swapping one on one, two on one to three on one. Little more than pornographic animals casting aside shame and inhibition as 18 hugged her man from behind. Taking delight in him fucking Korra doggy style while the tomboy ate out her girlfriend. To Asami laying atop her lover,their tits rubbing together in sensual friction as Krillin mounted and fucked the heiress from behind. Any exhausting cast aside by the thrill of their mating, as if the two lovers were driven by the impulse to want to go all night and all the way to the morning and make sure they leave this hotel kmowing they’d be knocked up and carrying this stud’s babies. Idly wondering if they might follow through on Asami’s impulsive dirty talk and make their foursome truly official. The wedding would surely be spectacular and the honeymoon would be as good as this perhaps ten,no a hundredfold. For now of course, thst was the future and this was the moment they were living for. A moment they’d never want to end.
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thebardisabird · 1 year
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I have had this stuck in my head ever since you sent it, Anonym.  Honestly I think Osomatsu might be perfect for this, so I hope you’re okay with me using him for  this scenario. Osomatsu x A VERY stressed out GN!Reader, under the cut!
To say you felt like you were on top of the world was an understatement. Sitting in your new position as Director of Digital Marketing for the Akatsuka PR firm, you would never worry about your finances again. Your agency handled names as big as Shoei and even Nyaa Hashimoto, amongst countless other idols, influencers, and musical groups. Everything was seamless - with the new job came a new house, a new car, everything new and expensive with you ever having to worry about the price tag. Your fiancé of several years, Osomatsu, constantly exclaimed how proud he was - thought you laughed at how he too was enjoying the many perks that came with your extraordinary jump in wealth. There were parties thrown in your honor; innumerable gifts given to in celebration of your status, you honestly don’t think you’d partied the way you had that week than you ever have in your life. Unfortunately for you, that was just the thing. The business that you had worked your way up in over the years became exactly that when you were at the top - constant partying. The dinners, the late night receptions that would turn into 8 am meetings, the ridiculous amount of PR cleanups that you oversaw caused by the newer, younger generation of talent. It was a continuous effort that gave you no peace. There was no off switch for you, as you were in a ceaseless loop of making sure every line was correctly in its places, and then being dressed up and schmoozing amongst the other high-on-the-totem-pole staff when things were correct. Osomatsu was by your side through all of it, but he sensed something was wrong. He confirmed it when he had gone to the bar inside the CEO’s yacht to grab you both glasses of wine, only to come back and watch you looking over the edge of the deck, your expression reading utter exhaustion. This week in particular had been hell. The news had leaked of Nyaa Hashimoto’s retirement and a surprise pregnancy - none of which you had been informed of until after the alarmed phone calls started coming in. It took a personal call from you to clear the air with her and find out what the truth was. While you understood her plight, and obliged with her wishes to retire and lead her life as a normal woman, you knew the CEO would be furious. Nyaa Hashimoto was one of your biggest clients; the responsibility of handling the press, picking up the pieces of her fanbase that the leaked information had caused, and dealing with sponsor backlash all fell on you and your team. After your final call for the day had been made, you slammed the phone down and put your head in your hands. “I’m home!” called Osomatsu from the front door. He set down the keys to the Huracán, kicking his shoes off in the process, “The guys wanted me to meet them at the race track, hope it was okay that I put us in the skybox”. He grinned at that, knowing you wouldn’t really care, but it tickled him to know that such a luxury was within his reach these days. When you didn’t answer him, his fingers curled into a fist. Something was definitely wrong. Without hesitance, he ran to your office. The door swung open, flittering a few loose pieces of paper forward. The eldest brother took in the scene of your office with horror: awards shattered to the ground, old photos torn to shreds, there were shards of glass and metals sprinkled throughout the entirety of the room. At the center of it all was you, your head in your arms, sobbing silently to yourself. In careful steps, Osomatsu approached you, “Babe…are…are you okay? Baby, what happened?” At the sound of his voice, your tear stained face lifted. Bloodshot eyes with your hair strewn about as if you had laid that way for hours was what met his eyes. Immediately you fell into the arms of your fiancé, wailing about how this had simply become too much - because it had. You poured from an incessantly empty cup, never feeling truly fulfilled with any of the work you were doing because it did not serve you. The monetary gain was fleeting - you had everything you could want or need except the thing you required most: peace. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Oso,” your choked, teary voice sounded against his chest, “I want to go back to everything being simple…I want to live in a one story house and have neighbors who have like three dogs and I want to have a backyard with a tree where I can raise beeeeeeees” and you began another round of sobbing once more. You heard Osomatsu sigh. It made you cry harder initially because you knew that leaving this lap of luxury meant taking away all of his fun. He’d supported you when you were nobody in the company, it felt so wrong to strip him of the things you both never had for your selfish reasons. To your surprise however, he would pull from you gently, raising your chin up to look at him. His thumbs brushed underneath your eyes, swiping away the fresh tears there. “I dunno anything about bees…but if that’s what you wanna do, then let’s do it.” he said, a sympathetic smile at the forefront. Your trembling hand laid on top of his own, “But..b-but what about all of this? This is everything you’ve ever wanted in life, Osomatsu…” He leaned forward, his lips pressing ever so gently to your own. Time stood still in that moment, and your tears would start to shift in their meaning from here, “This life means nothing to me if you’re not happy. I love money, don’t get me wrong,” you didn’t miss the teasing lilt in his tone, but it quickly faded, “But I don’t think I have to tell you that I love you more than that, do I?” He took the next round of bawling as a sign that you completely understood. The next few weeks he would spend with you planning your leaving the company, choosing instead to take on a role as a consultant for lower-end talent managers, a job that allowed you your freedom at home since the time was made for you and not the other way around. Your penthouse was packed up, swapped out for a one-level home with a sizable backyard and a few friendly neighbors next door. When you finally finished sliding in the last panel, you wiped your forehead. Just behind you came the sound of feet crunching on grass. “How does it look?” your fiancé asked. You turned to see Osomatsu donning a full bee suit, beaming from beneath the veil. It brought the same smile to your own face, “Now we match!”
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bklynmusicnerd · 10 months
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The rest of this week was so uneventful that I think I can just sum up the rest of my takes here:
- As an Ava fan, the best part about Ava being in legal mess is a visit from Dante and a reminder of the fun "cat and mouse" sexual tension they have. Ava starts doing her best Barbara Stanwyck impression, Dante stays firm in his Columbo ways (while begrudgingly having a soft spot for Ava), it's a fun time.
- As for Ava's mess, I am both increasingly convinced that they're setting up Nik to be the one who killed Austin, but also instantly frustrated by that idea because Nik would never do his own dirty work, so that would be him returning ooc before he's even popped back up. I expect Nik to mess with Ava for revenge purposes, I just think it should be in a way that makes sense for him.
- I'm actually Team "Chase should put a ring on it" because why the hell not? But I do think Brook Lynn deserves more romance than a potential proposal born from pressure from her family.
- I don't understand how Maxie is broke. Nothing about the explanation made sense with everything they've been telling us about Deception. So I'm just gonna have to chalk up Maxie somehow being a broke ceo to soap karma for all her dirty deeds in the 2000s.
- I also don't understand where Felicia's realization about Cody lying about not being Mac's son is coming from but whatever gets that stupid story moving.
- I don't care about the surrogacy story and I never take any Portia advice moments seriously so all I was focused on during the Portia and TJ convo is whether there's potential sloppy affair chem, and I am pleased to report there is. They need to make this happen so Portia's spiral (that should have gone down post-wedding tbh) can finally commence.
- The problem with Michael is that he's too damn old to still be this petulant. Everything he does, including this Nina blackmail story, comes across like a child throwing a temper tantrum, which makes him unconvincing as a husband and father.
- Nina letting a man child control her is not interesting, and the motivation of her being afraid to lose Sonny or Willow isn't working either because neither is worth this perpetual state of self-flagellation. Just let Nina's (minor) mess come out and get to whatever lame fallout there is.
- I was trying to figure out why the Davis girls bum me out so much these days and it finally hit me during the Sam and Kristina convo, they're just not fun anymore. All the fire and spunk that made the Davis girls fun to watch as a family unit has been replaced with dull convos about smoothies, boarding schools and surrogacy.
- This version of Drew lost any serious hope for audience investment when he gave up prioritizing re-bonding with his daughter. This random boarding school story just compounds that. The idea that Sam would or even should be torn over advocating for Scout because Drew's feelings might be hurt is garbage.
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monsta-x-jagi · 1 month
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Legal Affairs - Chapter 1
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Synopsis: A rookie lawyer helps Wonho while he is being investigated for involvement in black market dealings.
Word count: 2.8k
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You walked through the revolving doors to Useungja Law Firm whose name meant “winner.” One of the best law firms in Seoul, it was known for having a high proportion of successful cases, and specialising in commercial law, civil suits and similar matters. Which is why you were surprised at the new case given to you. 
“I thought we didn’t do criminal cases?” You asked your CEO.
“We don’t, but this was a special request, from my friend at the TV station. He wants to make sure his station isn’t caught up in these charges, so he discussed it with the idol’s agency and asked me to look into it.” The CEO replied and gave you the file to flick through. He knew you wouldn’t refuse the case, but he could tell you were feeling nervous.
After a long pause, you asked, “So why me? This feels like an important case.”
“I heard you had something of an interest in dark seedy black market crimes. Plus, you took criminal law classes last semester and I haven’t touched that stuff in over a decade.” 
“Wow samcheon (uncle), you really had to make it sound like I have personal experience with the black market huh?” You laughed. “But sure, I will take the case.” You even saluted the CEO for good measure.
He laughed, before his face turned serious again. “Alright, but just one more thing sweetheart. Your mum said you missed out on all the other internships, but working at your old uncle’s firm isn’t pity, okay? I know you’re good, so get out there and prove it, because you’re still a skilled lawyer.”
Your client was a Lee Hoseok, represented by Starship Entertainment. He was part of a large number of idols being investigated for involvement with various black market entities, though nobody had been charged yet. You were simply there as a preventative measure to support him throughout the investigation. Following a party with several guests that included dubious and suspicious people, Le Hoseok and several others had been named as persons of interest.
The door to the meeting room opened soon after you sat down, and two men walked in, with one clearly being Hoseok. His hoodie did a pathetic job of hiding his figure which was clearly the result of many dedicated hours at the gym. You reached over to your drink bottle, telling yourself it’s because you are thirsty after seeing the iced coffee he had in his hand, and not for any other reason. The men sat across from you, and you introduced yourself and the plan for the meeting today. 
“Hello. My name is y/n and I will be handling your case. Today, I just want to ask some questions based on what’s in the file. But you can keep talking even outside of those questions. I really just want to hear anything that will help your case, that’s all.”
Hoseok’s manager tapped his arm. He had been zoning out all morning since the manager mentioned his schedule for the day. He studied the lawyer in front of him. You seemed very young, probably younger than him, and he felt a small sense of dread that a rookie was handling his case.
“I didn’t do anything. I swear, I never stole anything, took drugs or hurt someone. I didn’t even do it for someone else.” He blurted out.
He didn’t intend to sound desperate, but he had been so lost in his thoughts earlier that he didn’t even hear your question.
Poor boy. He seemed very out of it. “It’s okay, this is a preventative measure for the investigation. We know nothing happened.” He appeared a little calmer once you said that, so you began listing your plan of action.
“I’m going to request surveillance footage from the TV station where this party supposedly happened. If you keep an inventory of what’s usually in your bags, I'd like to see that too, as well as a list of staff members or guests who were present.”
Hoseok simply nodded and his manager who agreed to provide anything you needed.
Then there was one more thing. You apologetically turned to the manager. “Client-attorney privilege only applies between me and Mr Lee. So for our conversations to be protected, we do technically need to have our consults alone. I hope you understand.”
The manager nodded, and with no hostility, left the room after squeezing Hoseok’s shoulder. 
You waited for the manager to leave before continuing your interview with Hoseok. You decided to forego your desire to run your gaze appreciatively all over his body by simply looking down at your notes. You asked your first question. “Do you have any exes I should be concerned about?”
Hoseok almost sputtered his coffee when he heard that, and looked at you questioningly.
“Sorry, I wasn’t hitting on you.” This was a bad habit you needed to fix before heading to a courtroom. You often worded things without necessary context. “What I meant was can you think of anyone that would want to hurt you? I won’t tell your manager about these people if you don’t want to me, by the way,” you added, hoping it made him feel safe.
Hoseok didn’t seem to show much emotion when he answered. His voice was monotone and he didn’t even seem to be in the present. “I’ve had some entanglements, but there aren’t any that I think would want to hurt me.”
You tried not to let the initial lack of rapport with your client bother you as you continued you questions. “Can you tell me how much you drank last night?”
Hoseok looked sheepish. “I don’t remember anything from last night, if I am being honest.”
“That’s okay.” You made a small note in the file and continued. “Did you take any drinks given to you by another person? Like something they mixed, not something that came in a can or bottle?”
Hoseok was silent, thinking. “Probably.”
Your first little theory had formed. If the man didn’t remember anything, maybe he was drugged, possibly by one of those suspicious person, and if he was drugged, he may have been unaware of anything he may have done, including at someone else’s orders or under duress. But you needed more evidence for this theory, so you simply said, “I want you to take a drug test, today if possible. I’ll schedule one.”
Hoseok’s eyes widened in shock. Maybe some frustration too, since he had already told you he was innocent, but he nodded. His agency had ordered him to cooperate, though he would’ve done so even without the order.
The last part of your meeting was introducing Hoseok to the CEO. When your questions were done, Hoseok got up and followed you out of the meeting room and into the elevator.
“Mr Lee, if you have any questions at all, you know you can ask, right? I promise I’m not as scary as I look,” you said, laughing a little awkwardly.
You knew you couldn’t possibly look scary to a man that had the strength to crush your bones into a fine dust, but the atmosphere in the elevator wasn’t exactly bright. You could feel Hoseok looking at you, and you hoped he wasn’t stressing too much about the investigation.
Unknown to you, Hoseok was actually admiring your outfit. You were wearing a light blue floral dress that flared out at your hips pared with a very smart-looking white blazer. It was like you couldn’t decide whether to be at the office or at a picnic, and Hoseok thought it was adorable. 
After another bout of silence, you spoke. “Mr Lee, could you enter your number and email address please? I am adding your email to a shared calendar for us. That way, we can keep track of things like important appointments, interviews, etc.” 
Hoseok obliged, typing his details into your phone, and you silently congratulated yourself on not making it sound like you were hitting on your client when you asked for his number.
Inside the CEO’s office, your uncle introduced himself to Hoseok with a firm handshake. “Hello Hoseok. I am y/CEO/n. Y/n is well versed in black market cases, and I will also be around to support you, so there is nothing to worry about.” 
Hoseok felt a small sense of relief hearing that. Surely if you were known to the CEO, you must be good at your job. The CEO then took his phone from his pocket and turned to you, with an amused smile on his face. Hoseok watched the interaction curiously.
“Y/n, I think your plan for the day is great,” the CEO said to you. “However, there’s something I need you to be careful about."
“Yeah? What?” You asked, with far too little honourifics for a CEO. 
Hoseok tensed, expecting an outburst from the man, but was pleasantly surprised when the CEO handed his unlocked phone to you. You stifled a laugh with your hand as you checked the CEO’s phone. Hoseok tried to hide his confused expression at this remarkably affectionate relationship between a rookie and the CEO, but he wasn’t quick enough. 
Noticing his quizzical expression, you began explaining. “The CEO has been a mentor to me since high school. We’re very close, so he teases me about every single silly mistake I make.”
You turned the CEO’s phone to face Hoseok. On the screen was a text message saying ‘Hi Mr Lee, it’s y/n. I’m excited to work with you and promise to do my best. I look forward to getting to know you more.’ 
There was nothing wrong with the message, except that you had texted it to the CEO, and not Hoseok. Seeing that, Hoseok cracked his first genuine smile of the day.
After your idol client left, you went to the Starship Entertainment office. The staff had already been informed to collect footage and any other necessary materials for your investigation. Starship Entertainment also forwarded you the schedules of each Monsta X member for you to conduct interviews with should you need to. When you went to Starship’s office, the list of schedules told you that Yoo Kihyun would be available for an interview.
Kihyun stopped by in between practice and his gym session. He smiled pleasantly and bowed before sitting across from you in a conference room at Starship. “Good afternoon y/n.” 
“Great to meet you, Kihyun.” It slipped your mind to call him Mr Yoo. “Let’s start by talking about what Hoseok was doing during the party. Who he talked to, what he ate or drank, just really anything at all that you remember.” You fiddled with you phone to find the recorder app and showed it to Kihyun. “You don’t mind right?”
“Well, usually I record in a studio, but for you I’ll make an exception,” Kihyun said and laughed. He seemed sweet.
Hoseok had arrived at the party together with his members, but spent most of his time with Hyungwon, sitting on the couch and chatting with a few people. Kihyun couldn’t remember who, but there was no animosity there. As for what Hoseok drank, he did get offered drinks by a few people there, but he stuck to his own drink. Hoseok didn’t even leave his drink unattended as far as Kihyun remembers. As for Hoseok’s behaviour before the party, during the show, Kihyun couldn’t recall anything out of the ordinary, except that Hoseok left one of his bags behind in their van, and they had to ask a staff member to go grab it sometime after arriving at the dressing room. Unfortunately, Kihyun wasn’t sure who that staff member might have been.
“Well thank you for your time, Kihyun. Is it okay if I contact you again if I have questions?” You asked as you finished scribbling some notes. 
“No worries, let me know if you need anything. I really want to help,” Kihyun said earnestly.
As Kihyun reached the door, you suddenly remembered something. “Is there a hair salon at Starship?"
Kihyun blinked confusedly before answering. “Uh yeah, did you need to go there?"
“I saw Hoseok’s schedule said he’s getting his hair done at 4pm, but I need some of his hair for a drug test. I was hoping the hairdresser could cut some for me without making it obvious.” 
Kihyun understood your unasked request. “I can definitely take you to the salon. But there’s one small problem.” You raised your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to finish “Hoseok is planning to bleach his hair, so if you want his hair for a drug test, you gotta be quick."
Your mouth dropped open. “Oh shi- I mean godda-,” you tried not to swear. That drug test would prove your client to at least didn’t consume any drugs, and you were not missing that chance. Kihyun laughed at your crude language, before leading you to the salon.
The hairdresser had draped him and trimmed his hair and was somewhere preparing the bleach and colour. Hoseok’s phone buzzed with a message from Kihyun: DONTT FUICKING BLEACH UR HAIRRR
Was this some prank? Shouldn’t you be working out, little munchkin? Hoseok replied smiling to himself. 
No I mean it, its for ur lawyer, Kihyun responded.
Hoseok was confused, but as he motioned for his hairdresser to hold off on the bleaching, the doors to the salon swung open. Behind it was Kihyun, with your slightly puffed out face appearing behind him. At the sight of Hoseok’s still unbleached hair, you breathed a sigh of relief. Kihyun moved aside to let you through, and much to Hoseok’s surprise, you made a beeline for him, or more specifically, his hair. 
Your fingers first delicately touched it, before stroking their way through it. Then a second and third time. “Oh, Hoseok, thank god,” you murmured. “It’s safe.” 
Hoseok met your gaze in the mirror, raising his eyebrows at you. “You okay there y/n? You uh… don’t get off on people’s hair do you?” 
You didn’t register the joke. “No, no, I just got worried we wouldn’t be able to do the drug test. I need your unbleached hair.”
“How much? I’ll get the stylist to cut it for you,” Hoseok said, motioning for the hairdresser to come closer.
You ran your fingers through his hair a few times before holding up your desired sample for the drug test. “Don’t stress, you’ll still look handsome on stage Mr Lee.” 
Hoseok looked at your through the mirror, smiling. “Why do you call me Mr Lee?” 
“Hm sorry?” Your attention snapped to Hoseok’s face in the mirror. For the first time, you noticed his eyes exuded a sense of kindness you hadn’t seen before.
Hoseok repeated himself. “Why do you call me Mr Lee?”
“Do I have to explain that? You’re my client,” you said.
“True, but you called me Hoseok when you first walked in.”
Your face went blank and Hoseok smirked. Unknowingly, your fingers remained wrapped around a strand of his hair, and your elbow rested on his shoulder. 
Hoseok reached out his hand from under the hairdresser’s drape to touch your arm. “You walked in and did this.” His hand mimicked the way you touched his hair when you first walked in on your forearm. “Oh thank god Hoseok is what you said.”
You flinched at his touch, equal parts shocked and embarrassed. He wasn’t sure whether to be hurt or amused when you took a small step away from him. 
“In my defence, I was addressing myself, not you,” you said, twisting you lips to side in annoyance.
“Last I checked, your name wasn’t Hoseok, so I don’t know why you would address yourself as that,” Hoseok smirked. 
You started chewing your lip then sighed. “Fuck, I didn’t exactly leave the best impression as your lawyer there did I?” You laughed as you spoke, but then suddenly covered your mouth with your hands. “Why did I even do that…”
Hoseok couldn’t help but laugh out loud. You had been so perfectly polite and proper all morning, and that demeanour dissolving was absolutely hilarious. “I never knew my lawyer would have such a crude mouth. Hope it comes in handy in the future.”
You stopped laughing and narrowed your eyes. You returned his smirk. “That is a new version of ‘what that mouth do.’ Good job.” You knew this exchange had lost all sense of professionalism now. 
Hoseok laughed along with you but then became serious. He asked, “Surely nobody says things like that to you. You’re a lawyer, you probably date other educated men.”
You shook your head. “Mr Lee, educated or uneducated, any man is capable of being an asshole.”
“Just Hoseok is fine, Miss y/n.”
“Just y/first/name, is fine, Hoseok,” you parroted back. Having grown a little more comfortable, you stepped in a little closer to the seat again. “So, Hoseok, can your hairdresser cut some hair for me?”
10 minutes later, you were out the door with Hoseok’s hair in a little ziplock bag. You didn’t know it, but you felt a small buzz as you thought about how you finally established some rapport with your client. Or as ordinary people would call it, chemistry.
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Spacesuited Snoopy doll floats in zero-g on moon-bound Artemis 1 mission
By Robert Z. Pearlman, 16 November 2022
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"When NASA was identifying what the ZGI would be, it just seemed to make sense that it was Snoopy."
Snoopy, "the world-famous astronaut," has made it into space — again.
The white-spotted dog, who became "the first beagle on the moon" in a series of Peanuts comic strips in 1969, is now on his way back to the moon aboard NASA's Artemis 1 mission.
Snoopy, in the form of a small doll dressed in a one-of-a-kind replica of NASA's pressure suit for Artemis astronauts, is the "zero-g indicator" or ZGI on board the space agency's now lunar-orbit-bound Orion spacecraft.
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"Oh, I'm sorry, Snoopy. They had to put you on a leash because you're hanging in the Orion capsule right now," NASA Administrator Bill Nelson said during an August photo op with the beagle (in this case, a costume character also wearing the bright orange spacesuit).
"Snoopy was the last person to be put in Orion when they closed the hatch."
Snoopy's leash, or tether, was to keep the doll in view of a camera inside Orion's cabin.
Traditionally, zero-g indicators have been flown on crewed spacecraft as a visual sign for the astronauts that they have reached orbit.
The Artemis 1 Orion is flying without a crew — other than Snoopy, four LEGO minifigures, Shaun the Sheep, and three instrumented manikins — so the doll was flown for the benefit of the public watching the launch on NASA's television channel or website.
"When NASA was identifying what the ZGI would be, it just seemed to make sense that it was Snoopy," Melissa Menta, senior vice president for marketing and communications at Peanuts Worldwide, said in an interview with collectSPACE.com.
"Snoopy has been part of the NASA history for so long."
Snoopy has been associated with NASA since 1968, when the space agency approached Peanuts artist Charles Schulz for permission to use his comic strip dog as a safety mascot in the wake of a fire that claimed three astronauts' lives.
That same year, NASA introduced the Silver Snoopy award, an honor presented only by astronauts to members of the NASA workforce whose outstanding achievements contributed to mission safety and success in human spaceflight.
"Sparky always said that he was very proud to have worked with NASA and to have had them choose his characters," Jeannie Schulz, the widow of Charles "Sparky" Schulz, said in a 2019 interview with collectSPACE.
In 2018, 50 years after Snoopy first entered service for the U.S. space program, NASA and Peanuts Worldwide expanded the use of the beagle and the Peanuts gang to help promote NASA's Artemis missions and its ongoing efforts to engage students in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) activities.
Since then, Peanuts has licensed companies like Hallmark to produce spacesuited Snoopy dolls, including one that was flown to the International Space Station.
The ZGI on Orion, though, is a custom creation.
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To create the doll, Peanuts turned to Martin Izquierdo, a noted costume designer specializing in miniatures, who had previously made the outfits for a Snoopy-themed fashion exhibit.
Izquierdo came out of retirement to fabricate the Snoopy-sized pressure suit for the Artemis 1 mission, working together with Ted Southern, the president and CEO of Final Frontier Design, a firm developing spacesuit parts for NASA and private spaceflight companies.
"NASA sent us reference materials and they sent us the cloth," said Menta.
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Over the next 25 days, Snoopy will float aboard Orion as it makes a close flyby of the lunar surface and then soars well past the moon, traveling farther away from Earth than any spacecraft made for astronauts (or beagles) in history.
He will then return home, protected by a heat shield designed to survive a reentry from lunar-return velocities.
Snoopy will splash down on December 11, having added another space mission to his credit.
It is not clear what will happen to him after that, although if returned to Peanuts Worldwide, the doll will be destined for the Charles M. Schulz Museum and Research Center in Santa Rosa, California.
(A pen nib used by the late comic strip artist to draw Peanuts is also on Orion and will be going to the museum as well.)
🤍
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katblu42 · 2 years
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Like Your Father
For @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt #176
With a prompt like this, how can it be anyone but Scott Tracy?
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go Word Count: approx 886
He’d been hearing those words practically all his life.  Almost always in a positive light.  When he was little it was invariably a reference to his smile or his eyes – or Grandma commenting on his tendency to want to get everywhere fast, or his infatuation with all things flight related.
As he grew he found himself wanting to emulate his father in so many ways. So, by the time circumstances unexpectedly thrust him into Dad’s shoes as a young man the comparisons were practically inevitable.
In Scott’s role as CEO of Tracy Industries it was so common for people to comment on the likeness that with every face-to-face meeting it was now expected.  Well, at least from board members, executives, competitors, clients and prospective collaborators who were old enough to have met the great Jeff Tracy in person. 
Sometimes the words went unspoken, but the way a person’s eyes would linger on Scott a moment longer than strictly comfortable while shaking hands said it anyway.
“You’re so much like your father.”
Most of the time it made Scott proud.  After all, it’s what he strived for – the result of the inner mantra that kept him asking himself “What would Dad do?” in any situation.  He wanted to be like Dad, to make him proud, to live up to the legacy.  And there was an undercurrent of fear there at times that he would never be able to live up to that.  So, hearing people remind him that yes, he was indeed a lot like his father was a reassuring comfort.
Usually.
Today’s meeting had started out ordinarily enough.  He and Virgil were in New York to meet with Nathan Twiner in order to discuss his proposal for a project he thought Tracy Industries should support.  The eager and over-confident inventor had given Scott that look as introductions were made.
“I had the pleasure of meeting your father once,” the greasy-haired, middle-aged man commented with a toothy smile and a firm handshake.  “He was a great man.  Such an inspiration.”
“Yes, he was.”  Scott returned the smile and deftly resisted the twist the older man tried to enact to literally get the upper hand grip in the shake.
From there it had all gone downhill.  Twiner’s idea was all hype and very little substance.  Virgil had politely pointed out a number of the many flaws he’d spotted in the designs and blueprints.  Scott himself could see some of them, and both Tracys had expressed their safety concerns when Twiner had tried to suggest the ways in which experimentation would find the solutions for any shortcomings in the design. 
But the main issue Scott had with Twiner’s idea was the fact that the end product would have no real benefit to society at large.  It was a grand idea which would need a great deal of time and money poured into it just to make it viable.  Scott agreed with Twiner that the finished product would likely sell, but Tracy Industries were not in the business of making things that amounted to little more than big toys for rich grown-ups to waste their wealth on.
Finally getting the message that Scott and Virgil were showing him and his idea the door, Twiner’s thin veil of friendly familiarity was abandoned.  He stood, he scowled down on Scott who remained seated across the table.
“This place has obviously gone to the dogs since the demise of the Great Jeff Tracy.  He was a man who knew a profitable idea when he saw one.  An adventurous man who wasn’t afraid to take risks.”
Virgil may have sensed what was coming.  A subtle shift in his position beside Scott brought his knee to rest against his big brother’s thigh beneath the table.  A small, simple gesture that served as a reminder that Scott was not alone here, and to keep calm.  Although Scott was managing okay without the gesture, he was very glad of it when Twiner delivered his parting shot.
“You are nothing like your father, and he’d be greatly disappointed in you.”
Scott rose slowly to his feet, keeping his voice steady and his fingertips lightly on the table.
“My father, in life and in business dealings, knew how to weigh up the risks and benefits of any situation he was faced with.  He took calculated risks, but his goal was always to help people, and to improve the world we live in.  Everything I know about running this business I learned from him, and thus far it has served me and Tracy Industries very well.” 
Scott’s glare was deployed with the desired effect, as Twiner’s self-assuredness seemed to melt away and he took an involuntary step back.
“Thank you for your time, Mr Twiner,” Virgil said pointedly as he rose from the table and strode over to open the door.
“You’ll regret this,” Twiner mumbled as he left.
Virgil closed the door again and turned back to his big brother in time to see him sag back into his seat.
“Scott?”
“I’m okay, Virgil.  I know what you’re going to say, and you don’t need to say it.”
Virgil waited a moment, knowing that while Twiner’s words had hurt, his big brother would be able to shake this off. “So, you don’t think he’ll take his idea to Fischler?”
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A Heavy Bargain (Say My Name)
Fandom: North and South (BBC Series)
Ship: Modern!Thornton x F!Reader
Trope: (Business)Enemies to lovers - Angst with a fluffy ending.
Word counts: 5 921
Note: @sorisooyaa I did it again x).
Warnings: Betrayal, SMUT, insults and bad words, incorrect mentions of what being an architect means.
Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk
Getting the almighty holier than though Mister Thornton all riled up was fun.
His face was becoming a stern, emotionless mask when he was seeing his opponent beat him at his own game. In which case, you were the opponent. And you were crushing his hopes with a devilish grin.
“As you can see, once the factory is restored, the margins will increase by twenty per cent. And of course, it is without counting the profit made from the museum which will be added at the same time, as well as the branded products we will sell there.”
This project was yours, it was given at this point. Victory tasted awfully good when winning against him. After working for the same firm together for the past six years, the friendly competition you had entertained in the beginning had swiftly turned into a full-blown rivalry. If you were honest with yourself, it had turned you on more than once, seeing him do his absolute best to get the upper hand. Especially, when you knew the cards to be in your favour.
“Thank you for your time, that will be all for now.”
Architecture was a male-dominated field and being the only woman in the office was a feat, day in and day out. Every day you had to fight for a seat at the table and he did not make it easy on you. Not that you’d want him to.
After the meeting, Thornton approached you, ever so leisurely, to give himself a sense of control. It suited him. The confidence radiating from him. A pristine shirt he had to have bought a size too small, his three-piece suit a work of art along the lines of his shoulders, his pants taunt against his thighs. And that was just the front.
“Good work today.”
You stopped gathering your computer and portfolios. Was he joking ? You arched a brow, your arms instinctively crossed over your chest.
“What do you want Thornton? Snarl at me, like you usually do?”
He chuckled, leaning his hips against the table, looking at you intently. You could see him eying you from head to toe, ranking up your legs, stopping at your hips, then your chest - accentuated cleavage in your fitted white shirt, before meeting your eyes.
“No. I want to invite you to dinner. -Pardon? -You heard me.”
What game was he playing? That man always had a motive.
“I fear our little games have to come to an end. Only fitting to have a dinner to celebrate. I have been offered a promotion. Associate.”
You felt your mouth open, but no words came to you. You bit the inside of your cheek. Of course, he had come to gloat and run that tongue of his. What you wanted to do to that man could not be expressed in enough words. He was good at his job, yes, but not good enough to earn the promotion you had been fighting for, for months. Of course, the goddamn CEO’s son had to have it.
“So that’s why you were not trying to jeopardize my presentation today? Fuck, I should have known… You’re never that kind to anyone. Have a good dinner on your own, Thornton. And above all, go fuck yourself.”
His wide hand grabbed your wrist before you could leave. Your breath itched in your throat.
“You did not hear me. I have been offered a promotion. In another firm. -What do you mean?”
He let go of your arm, feeling as if you were less likely to leave now that he had your attention. Thornton’s lips perked in what could be treated as a smile.
“I mean that I am leaving. My sister and I are creating a new firm.”
Oh. Oh. His firm. This situation was taking unexpected turns.
“And what that has to do with me?”
He inhaled slowly, calming down his nerves.
“My sister, Fanny, thought it good to have you with us.”
Your laugh echoed in the empty office. He could not be serious.
“Are you joking? -I wish I were. She can be… very convincing at times.”
Saying those words, he recalled the week Fanny had called him asking about the prodigy he was working with. Not that he would tell you that. Your rivalry was the only thing keeping you in his life. And, even if he would never admit it aloud, the challenge you presented him with was exhilarating. He felt stimulated and pushed to always be on his best game with you around. Probably why Fanny wanted you in the first place. You kept him and his ego in check.
“Listen, you don’t have to make a decision now. Come to dinner with me, we’ll talk about the details then.”
Narrowing your eyes, you shook his extended hand.
“No promises. And give my thanks to your sister. She seems to be a brave woman to handle you every day.”
You smiled at your joke before leaving. In a fleeting dazed thought he wondered what else you could do with that mouth. Shaking his head, he went ahead and called his sister to tell her the news.
- After arranging a place and a date, the worst part of the ordeal was waiting. Wait for the week to be over. Wait for the evening to come. Wait for you to arrive. You had agreed it would be better for you to meet in a neutral place, where people would not recognize you. Sharks were everywhere and if they caught wind of you and him leaving the firm, it would stir more shit than you could handle. The French restaurant he had picked was on a side street, hidden from view by a beautifully decorated garden. You presented yourself and were guided to a table in a corner. He was already waiting for you, even going as far as pulling the chair out for you. You did not know how but this suit was even more enticing than the one he had on a few days before. He was wearing a dark shirt, sleeves rolled at his elbows, and no tie. He almost seemed relaxed, if not for the way his forearms were flexing against the cloth of his clothes.
“Wine?”
You nodded, the waiter pouring a glass for him and then for you. The menu was already on the table. As usual, yours did not have the prices written on them.
“Thornton? -Yes? -Could you pass me your menu, please?”
You reached for it before he could answer. To your surprise, he chuckled at your behaviour.
“What? -Nothing. You… You have a habit of taking what you want. I like that.”
The darkness surrounding you did little to cool the flush of your cheeks. He smiled wider. Then, the waiter came back. After having ordered, you put your credit card on the table, telling him you were the one to pay for tonight’s dinner and that next time his managers should do a better job at hiding their misogyny. The whole time, Thornton did not say anything, looking at you intently, focused like you thought you had never seen him before.
“Now that this is settled, first question: why is your sister not here with us? Second question: what makes you think I’ll join your firm after the hell on earth you put me through? -Simple. My sister is on vacation with her sons. You do know it’s Easter this week?”
He could not give a price to the face you made at that. “And I seem to recall, you gave me the same treatment.” He sipped on his wine, moving carefully, hoping you would not run. It was always the same dance with you. Him chasing you, in the hopes you would give him the light of day. Not always successful, but always worth it.
“Despite what you may think, I value your intellect and your sense of business. You are one of the only architects I know who makes a point of following the project from conception to finish, including regarding the contracts for the workers and the conditions in which they work. Going as far as talking with the unions and siding with them if need be. -Uh, duh? That’s my job. If the workers are unhappy the work is badly done and we lose money, that’s pretty simple math. -I know.”
He leaned over to you, pouring himself some water, spreading the smell of his cologne in your space. The wine must have been a tad too much because you clenched your thighs when he did. Deep into the night, you talked about the future of the firm, what projects you were willing to work on, what percentage you would be getting and who you would be working with. You wanted your work to be as ethical as possible, even in a world where you could lose it all in a heartbeat. The gentleman in him flared when you hailed a cab. He insisted on driving you home. You couldn’t say no to those eyes, pleading with you, an amused “I won’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.” Escaping him, making him blush just as much as you did. Upon arriving, he opened the door for you, walking you up to the door of your building.
“Well, Thornton, for someone who always had a thing against me, you do know how to wine and dine a girl alright.”
He chuckled.
“I do hope it worked at least.”
You stared at him through hooded eyelids. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, the soft buzz leaving you to fend for yourself against your instincts. Or maybe it was him. The cologne in the air, his fingers brushing against your thigh in the car, the comfortable silence and quick wits exchanged during dinner. You did not know. And, honestly, you did not care.
“It worked like a charm.”
You leaned up, bravery overcoming you, and kissed his cheek. His breath hitched as he gritted his teeth, fighting against himself. Your hand had settled on his shoulder, and he did not stop himself from putting his on your waist. He sensed the shift in the air then. You pulled away before opening the door behind you. In a last attempt at seeing him break - the effect you had on him was visible, rendering his pants, even more, taunt against his ass (it was a sight to see) - you asked:
“So… You are coming or what?”
He followed you in without hesitation.
When you entered your apartment, you barely had the time to take off your coat and light up the room the door behind you was slammed shut and his hands were on you. Your back against his chest, his palms over your breasts, toying with your nipples through your top, no other place on Earth could compete with the one you were in now.
“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he grunted in your ear, biting down softly on your earlobe, “those dresses stretched over your ass I could barely hide the hard-on under the table… Would have to touch myself in the bathroom thinking of you…”
Breathless, you whimpered “As if your suits were not a size too small just to turn me on… Buttons-up ready to burst…” You could hear the pride in his smirk, his hands pulling your jacket off, pulling your shirt off as well as his own. When he finally turned you around, underwear was the only thing left between you. You lunged forward, meeting him halfway in a hungry embrace, never quite kissing but leaving a trail down his throat of hickeys he’d have a hard time hiding. Once on your knees, he tried stopping you.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long, I…”
Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock, once freed of his boxers. Without so much as an afterthought, your mouth was at the tip, then deeper down your mouth, taking more and more of him with each back and forth, the salty taste of precum rapidly coating your tongue, your hands finding a steady place to rest on his hips. His whimpers were sinful. Reaching your ears and eliciting a wetness you never knew yourself capable of before that moment. Your fingers found their way down, between your thighs, toying with yourself. In a desperate attempt not to come, he pulled away from you before forcing you up. You frowned, visibly disappointed.
“Why…”
He stopped you, slipping a finger in your mouth for you to suck on. His eyes had gone dark, he seemed animated by lust only. Not that you would mind. When you complied, he inhaled sharply through his nose, smirking again.
“Bend.”
The order was simple. And you were not one to say no. You found yourself bending over on the table, ass up in the air, waiting for him to move. The warmth of his hands on your hips spread through you like wildfire, a desperate moan cutting through the silence. His fingers were impatient with your underwear, tearing the seams as if they were nothing. Without another moment of hesitation, he pulled a condom out of his discarded coat, put it on and… nothing came. Well, more accurately, you could feel the tip of his cock against your clit, moving in slow motion. In other words: torture. You went to get back up, pissed, when his hand blocked you down, the palm over the expanse of your back, firm, not even straining in his strength.
“Oh, growing impatient are we?”
The smug bastard. He was pushing in you excruciatingly slow until he was completely up in you. Losing control, you clenched around him, your whole body a string ready to snap, your back arching, as you were mouthing a silent plea for him to move. He stayed there, pulling mewls out of you, while he pulled you to him, your back against his chest, leaving breathless mouth-opened kisses down the side of your throat, caressing your shoulders and your back in sinful patience. You were a mess, almost in tears, the temptation too strong when he put you back down, slamming into you with such force, his hips were to leave bruises. Where his cries of pleasure had been enticing, yours were only driving him insane, your warm tongue on him still on his mind. His thrusts quickly became erratic, and his end was met before yours, grunting into your ear. The emptiness he left behind made you whine. He left to drop the condom in your bin. He was heaving and was flushed. You pulled yourself up, coming back to your senses. He looked at the commotion, clearly not done with you. Not even nearly. His hands stopped you, their familiar heat on your hips. Face to face, you could see his eyes on you, ready to devour every parcel of your body. He sucked at the tender skin of your throat, earning a gasp, your hands going around his shoulders. Soon, his hands slipped under your ass, hoisting you up against him.
“Good girl.”
The sweetness in his tone erased every thought out of you. Your hands were pulling on his hair, his nose against your pulse as you stumbled into your bedroom. No words were exchanged as he all but threw you on the bed, knocking the air out of your lungs. He smirked, the effect he had on you glistening down your thighs. He was enjoying seeing you this willing to give him control, all of it for the mere pleasure of having him. It boosted his ego. And you enjoyed greatly as he kept his eyes on you, before kneeling between your thighs, his breath fanning over you, a heated reminder of where his mouth could be. Again, he took his time, pressing his mouth, tongue and teeth against your inner thighs, leaving bruises and deep-coloured stains under your skin.
“You really want this, don’t you?”
The words were hanging in the air between the two of you. He licked his lips, diving in. He went feral. All you could do was helplessly try not to be too loud, but it was damn near impossible. Thornton’s hands were not only good at keeping you down but also at keeping you open and pleased, teasing you in ways only he knew. The knot in your abdomen was gradually coming to a rupture point when he stopped altogether. A deep whine echoed through your chest, fist clenching into the bedding. He climbed his way back up your body, leaving marks on his way there. He murmured against your jaw, leaving traces there too.
“How much do you want this?”
You did not want to give him the satisfaction, yet, the ghost of his fingertips was hovering over your clit, sensitive and ready. He pressed on, his thumb running lazy circles around it now. You bit your lip.
“Please… -Please who? -Please, John, I’ll…”
He grabbed your chin, a frown settling on his face. You had never called him by his name. Well, his last name, all the time and the occasional insult but never his first name. Gradually, he lowered his mouth to yours, stealing your breath away yet again. This felt more sinful and intimate than what you were doing so far. He deepened the kiss, your hands meeting in his hair, nails against his scalp. A deep grunt resonated through you, while he looked at you with marvel in his eyes. He pulled you with him to the side, one of your legs above his hip, the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing even in these moments. It felt right, being there with him. As if something had been fulfilled inside of you. You felt the stretch of him, his hips meeting yours, while his hand was drawing you in, your lips finding yet again the soft spot beneath his ear. He rocked against you in slow motion, taking his time. The moment you let out his name felt pivotal, a shift had occurred in him when you did and you wanted to know why. The first instants were harsh and to the point. This was tender and careful, almost loving. When his fingers found your clit again, you were at his mercy, nestled against him. He was cradling your face, kissing you still. You never wanted this to stop. Never wanted to stop the fullness he provided you, the care, the utter devotion. The coil in your belly was growing stronger with each passing moment until you could not bear it anymore, your orgasm washing through you like a tidal wave. He pulled out right after, spilling himself over your stomach, his forehead against your collarbone. You pulled the covers over the both of you, silence all-encompassing, neither of you moving basking in the embrace the other was providing.
When you woke up, he was gone. It wasn’t late. Yet, he was gone. Nothing left behind. No note. No text. Nothing. While you showered, doubts started plaguing you. With good reason, you thought. The man was ruthless in business. Here you thought you had the upper hand, knowing him for so long. What if you had been wrong? Was he going to use this night against you? Was the deal he offered you even real? It was a low blow, but you would not put it past him. His intentions were never clear, especially not with you. The pain in your chest would not decline, still. The betrayal you felt was real and you could do nothing about it. Work would have to do as a distraction. The television was playing orchestral music in front of you, while you were lounging on your sofa. It helped soothe your mind. You were studying yet another case of wrongful termination by one of your contractors. It was the fifth this year. The man was starting to get a reputation for not honouring his contracts. Somehow, he was one of the most preeminent manufacturers your firm worked with. It felt odd to keep employing him when he was discharging his employees just because he wanted to and despite your firm’s demands. You were so engrossed in your computer screen, scanning numbers, and taking notes that the door softly opening and closing behind you went unnoticed. Not even the soft chuckle or the coat being hung up startled you. Thornton’s palms on your shoulders, on the other hand, elicited a scream. He laughed. The bastard laughed at you. You turned around in your seat. He was wearing different clothes. Professional ones this time. Not that you’d pay any mind whether he was wearing clothes or not.
“What are you doing here?”
The sharpness in your voice startled him. He gestured to a bag on your kitchen aisle.
“I brought breakfast.”
Oh. Fuck. Realization dawned on him. You bit your lip, anxiety unraveling in you.
“You thought… -Yes. I thought you had left. For good.”
John sighed. Even in your mind, it felt strange to call him that. His jaw clenched, as he exhaled sharply. He joined you on the sofa, sitting next to you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what conclusion to come to, you left without a word, nothing… -I did. -No, you didn’t.”
He pointed at your fridge. A small piece of blue paper tucked under one of the magnets with his handwriting on it.
“Oh.”
He could not stay mad at you when you were looking like this. Nothing out of the ordinary. There laid the issue though. Fluid pants, meant to be worn at home, no bra that he could see and a cotton shirt clinging to your skin. Embarrassment making you bite your lip. He could not bring himself to be angry with you. Really, he had no good reason to. Thornton knew of his reputation. He knew you knew about it too. The math would have been the same if he had been in your shoes. He went to get the groceries he had brought with him. Your eyes went back to your screen, his mocking smirk still on your mind. There was no real hurt, but your ego did not like it. You closed your computer before turning towards him. He had started cooking something, pulling his sleeves up his arms the jacket of his suit laid behind you. Your eyes wandered. Down his shoulder to the tip of his fingers. Up his back and to his shoulder blades. His ass, but that was a given. You were losing yourself in him. It scared you and enticed you all the same.
“Are you going to stare or are you going to help?”
Malice appeared in his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. God, you had never seen him smile so much. Not in all the years you had known him, not in the last months you had known him even. It was a sight, the dimples in his cheeks prominent, eyes shining with something new, the crinkles there lined up perfectly. You were indeed losing yourself in him. He chuckled, startling you into getting up. For once, you were the one without words. You, who always had something to say, opinionated and strong-headed. He saw your hands shaking while peeling apples, trying not to meet his gaze and breathing through your nose to keep a straight face. He found you endearing to no end. He had for a long time. You were a skilled liar and an even better architect, yet he could see, sometimes, the mask crack. Especially when it was him taking a jab at it. He never did it to anger you, per se. He did it because he adored seeing this other side of you. Your commanding posture was one he was used to, what he wanted to chase. What he wanted to stay for though, was this. Your natural state of affairs, no lies put up to hide behind. While he was cooking the eggs and pancakes, he could feel your eyes burning, tracing his shape all over. Once done, he turned around to find that you were still peeling the same apple you had been ten minutes before. You felt his hand pull the fruit away from your palms. They were sticky with the apple’s water and sugar. He opened your hand, prying the knife away from you before bringing your fingers to his mouth. Slowly sucking on your fingers drawing each into his mouth, one after the other, moaning around your skin. The bastard. That handsome bastard. Your thighs clenched, while you were trying to stay upward. It proved very difficult. You whimpered, before stepping out of his reach completely as he was sucking on his fingertips, never leaving you out of sight. The look in his eyes was nothing short of sinful.
“No. No, no, no, no. I need to get work done…”
His arms pulled you up, settling you on the counter, eyes boring into yours, his hands toying with the hem of your shirt, slipping under it. God, he was driving you insane. Your hands found their way against his chest, in a motion that could have been treated as resistance, had you not been so weak in the attempt to stop him. He smiled, studying your face. You found yourself smiling too. The rational part of your brain was going to burst. You still had several calls to make and plans to discuss with him - preferably with his clothes on, even more so if his sister was present. Your body was hearing none of it.
“John, please…” you pleaded.
That was a mistake. As soon as his name left your mouth, he made you look at him with a firm hand on your jaw.
“Say it again.”
His lips were right there. Just suspended in front of you, like a forbidden fruit. He was good at this. So, so, so, good.
“I really have to… -Say it again.”
Your hooded eyelids and heavy breathing were only bringing him closer and closer to you, incapable of resisting the pull you had on him. It felt right, to stand between your open thighs, morning light barely shining through the windows, as you were there, breathless and needy at his mercy.
“John…”
Greedily, he claimed your lips for himself, as if to taste them around the letters of his name. He felt the warmth of your hands slip around his neck, burying themselves in the depth of his hair. Your hips were trying to meet his, arching your back more and more into him. He pulled away for some needed air, his forehead resting against yours. Your fingers were digging into his shirt by now, praying to tear it apart.
“What was that for?”
Your breath was soft against his cheekbone, your voice somewhat proud and cheeky.
“No reason. -Come on, John.”
The insistence on his name murmured against the shell of his ear…You knew. You knew and you were doing it on purpose. That new knowledge ingrained itself in his brain and it took everything in him not to ravish you, here and there.
“My name… in your mouth… It sounds like…It sounds like I am yours”
The cheekiness was gone, replaced by a spreading wildfire inside of you. The warmth of it all taking you over by pure force. You pulled away from him, in awe. A few hours prior you could have sworn he was going to leave you hanging, and now he was telling you these sinful things in such a serious tone. He was going to wreck you. And you were going to let him. Your core clenched, empty, waiting to be filled by him. You pulled your shirt over your head, breasts bare before him. Soon after, his lips found their way to them, the nipples getting teased between his lips, warm hands heating your body up. What an exquisite way to start the day.
*
Somehow, the tension between you had not vaporized. It had gotten thicker. You could not keep your hands off of each other, often working in between intimate encounters rather than keeping said encounters in between hours of work. Although, you did manage to visit new offices, meet his sister - she was a riot of outlandish manners and quick wits - and keep your newly developing relationship a secret from the firm’s employees. After a few weeks and then months like this, you felt that you were getting into a stall. Your relationship was not new anymore, yet whenever you mentioned going public he’d recoil and diverge onto an another subject of conversation. At first, it had been fun. Now, it was getting tiresome. Yet, you could not bring yourself to break it to him. The frustration in you was growing restless.
“Good evening. -Good evening… Oh, you brought food! Thank God, I’m starving! -I figured.”
He rose a brow and smirked knowingly as he passed through your door. You heard the lock click and he joined you in the kitchen, while you were setting the table. Slowly his usual business posture fell. He now had a strange look on his face. Not quite worried. Just so serious. It had you stopping in your tracks.
“John, what’s wrong?”
His breath was altered, and you watched him slowly take off his jacket and put it away. His eyes were driven to look at the floor, finding patterns in the wood more interesting than your face maybe. A dullness settled on your heart, muffling its cries. Something was off, you could see it.
“I have something to tell you.”
Before he could say anything, you sat down preparing yourself for the worst. He did not move.
“Remember when you told me about that contractor who was firing employees and giving bad results for the firm? -Yes, but… -I know who it is. I’ve known the entire time.”
You almost laughed.
“I’ve told you the name of the company, of course you know who the chief is… -No. I mean, I know who signed off on those deals each time. -What? I’ve been tracking that information… -For months, I know…”
You felt him approach and stop in his tracks, his hand settling on the table next to you, fearing he might make you even more angry than you already were. In truth, you were not even angry at him. Disappointed, frustrated, sad because of him? Yes. Angry? That was for yourself. You should have known he was hiding something. Of course, you had been blinded by the sweet words and soft touches and tender times.
“Who?”
The sharpness there was unmistakably strangled. Tears on the verge of collapse. John inhaled slowly, lips pinched.
“My father.”
Finally, you met his gaze. You didn’t even know his father still worked for the firm and wasn’t on a Bahamas coast with luxurious size debts. This was news to you.
“Please, say something. -I… I don’t know what to say… What do you want me to say, huh?… What do you expect me to say? You’ve been protecting your father all this time and I cannot find it in myself to blame you for it… That doesn’t mean that I’m forgiving you for lying to me… Here I thought we were…”
You struggled for a minute, trying to keep the tears at bay, feeling your emotion well up and ready to implode.
“-We were partners. -We were ? -Yes. We were. -Can you not understand why I did this? -Why? You kept the truth from me. His actions could have cost us both our careers, without mentioning the damages he’s done to the workers and the staff on site. How could you keep allowing this to happen?”
His jaw clenched, keeping himself from saying things he did not want to mean but was feeling deeply right now.
“Keep allowing? You really think I would have left my own father to sign those contracts if I had been aware he was still making them? You really think me this careless? -I don’t know.”
The hurt on his face was discreet. The effects limited to his eyes. Steeled and broken.
“What does that even mean?”
Your heart was breaking. You should have known not to trust him. Nor to have faith in him. He had been so dodgy before why stop now that you were fucking, right? A little voice in your head told you it wasn’t true. You didn’t listen.
“It means that even beyond the fact that you did not tell me you father was still working for the company or that he had a soft spot for an idiot without morals, I don’t know what kind of choice you’d make about the people you do care about. I would not know because you do not make them. Or you don’t tell me about them. -What are you talking about? -Why do you not want to share what we are to one another? You keep avoiding the question or diverting my attention to something else. Why do you not want to say that we are together, in a relationship, in a couple, John! Are you that ashamed of me? Or do you care so much about what other people have to say that you won’t be seen with me?”
This time, he did not stop himself from reaching you, his whole body shaping itself around you. You could not stop the tears anymore as he wrapped his arms around you, not a breath separating you two.
“ I am sorry. I have been nothing but a fool. I was scared you would not want me to. I was scared that you were the one who would be ashamed of me. -How could you think that?”
You met his eyes, watery pupils and all.
“I’m in love with you, John. I could never, ever, be ashamed of you.”
A deep smile crept its way onto his face, illuminating an otherwise gloomy evening. He cradled your face in his hands, almost drowning you in his presence with the gesture.
“I love you, too. Please forgive me. -I already did.”
You felt his lips smooth down a path from your temple to your lips, pressing feathered kisses along the way. You both stayed there then, foreheads together, swaying in each other’s arms, to a melody neither of you knew.
“Why did you tell me about your father?”
Without interrupting the moment, he sighed deeply.
“I had him fired today. For malpractice. -What? -He was not very pleased with me.”
The attempt at lightening up the mood went to waste. You put your palm against his cheek, your thumb moving in slow circles against his skin, trying to calm him down.
“You did the right thing. For what it’s worth, I am very sorry that you had to do it. Also, I am glad you did. You would not be yourself without that righteous streak of yours.”
A chuckle passed his lips, finally. He pressed a kiss to your lips, growing stronger with each of your hearts beating. Once thoroughly breathless, he let you go. That night, you agreed never to keep a secret from each other again. Or to hide things from one another. Both parties involved made sacrifices regarding their futures together. As usual, John drove a heavy bargain, with brand new negotiations skills, bribes and promises. You met him at every turn. And he let you, for he had surrendered to you that day and all the days after, wholeheartedly.
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hinatastinygiant · 1 year
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9 | A New Contract
Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader
A Game of Charades Masterlist
With determination in your eyes, you turn to Aizawa and say, "We should go back in there and talk to those CEOs, tell them how we actually feel without getting pushed around like we were."
"Y/N, that's a bad idea," he shakes his head. "They're not going to listen to a single word we say."
"So what? It's not like they can treat us any worse than they already are," you shrug. "I say let's give it a shot."
Aizawa looks skeptical but seems to consider your suggestion. "You actually think this will work?" he asks, his voice tinged with doubt.
"We won't know until we try," you answer, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We deserve to have at least a say in what happens next. Let's just try to negotiate with them and explain our position."
Aizawa hesitates for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Alright, fine. Let's do it," he says.
Together, you and Aizawa walk back inside the building and into the meeting room. However, what greets you there is something like out of a horror story. On the opposite side you see your agent, Ann, bent over the meeting room table while the CEO of Aizawa's firm is ramming into her back side. Immediately, Aizawa slaps a hand over your eyes.
"Oh my god, shit!" you hear Ann shout, followed by the sounds of shuffling. Once the two of them are finally decent, Aizawa lets you see again.
"Ann, I can't believe you were just..." you begin, before trailing off as you see the older man zip up his pants out of the corner of your eye. "Why?!"
"God dammit, Y/N, what the hell?!" she grumbles as she grabs onto your arm. "Let's go."
"Hold on," Aizawa stops her before she can even tug you out. "We're not going anywhere yet. Looks like the two of you could have a big scandal on your hands if word got out."
"So could you and Y/N... if word got out," Ann smiles cheesily back at him.
"Actually, I don't think so," you interrupt, pulling your arm out of her grasp. "Shota and I actually like each other, so what's the scandal in finding that out? You, on the other hand," you hum as you look over at the CEO, "could have a big problem. Mr. Takahashi, aren't you married? I could have sworn I saw an article about your wife adding healthy food options at your son's high school."
"What do you want?" he then sighs, sitting down in his chair.
"We want the engagement called off," Aziawa states firmly, not backing down this time.
Ann then intervenes, knowing the consequences of this decision could be bad for both agencies. "We can't do that. The companies-"
But the CEO cuts her off, surprising you both. "That's fine," he tells Aizawa, waving his hand dismissively. He then instructs Ann to call his secretary.
The secretary quickly enters the room, and Mr. Takahashi requests her to type up a contract. The document states that on the fifteenth, the engagement between you and Aizawa will be officially called off, and you will no longer be pressured into continuing the charade beyond the agreed-upon time frame.
Aizawa nods, accepting the terms of the agreement. He's visibly relieved, knowing that the burden of the unwanted marriage is finally being lifted.
With the document ready, the CEO extends his hand for a handshake. You and Aizawa exchange a glance, and one at a time, you both firmly shake his hand, sealing the deal.
As the secretary runs off to print the agreement, you can't help but feel a sense of relief and triumph. The weight that had been on your shoulders is finally lifted, and you know that you made the right decision.
Just as the agreement is printed and everyone signs it, you witness Ann leaning in to kiss the CEO. You can't help but make a face of disgust, feeling the need to distance yourself from her actions.
"You know what? I think I'm getting a new agent," you declare firmly, taking Aizawa's hand in yours.
Mr. Takahashi seems surprised, but he doesn't object. Honestly, he probably doesn't care in the least about Ann, but she'll just have to figure that out herself. 
With that, you leave the room. Aizawa walks alongside you, and together, you both step out of the agency, ready to face whatever comes next, now knowing that you're finally free from the charade that had complicated your lives for far too long.
As you both step outside, the fresh air feels invigorating. The sense of freedom fills you with a renewed energy, and you can't help but smile as you walk together.
But just as you thought the day couldn't get any better, Aizawa suddenly pulls you close and kisses you passionately. His lips meet yours with an intensity you hadn't expected, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.
He presses you up against the side of the car, his hands firmly holding your waist. The kiss is filled with all the emotions you both have kept bottled up for so long—the relief, the pent-up frustration, and the newfound understanding that your feelings for each other are not just part of a charade.
His lips are soft yet firm, and the heat of the moment sends shivers down your spine. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you reciprocate the passionate kiss.
The world around you fades away, and it's just the two of you, lost in the moment. His fingers tangle in your hair, and your heart races with a mix of excitement and desire. It's a kiss that speaks of so much more than just the charade you had been playing.
Eventually, you both pull away, breathless and flushed. His eyes search yours, filled with a mix of emotions, and you can see the affection and sincerity in his gaze.
"I'm glad we called it off," Aizawa whispers, his voice soft and filled with honesty.
"Me too," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
You then lean in to kiss him once more, a tender and affectionate gesture that seals the beginning of a new chapter in your lives—a chapter free from pretense and full of genuine love and affection.
A Game of Charades Masterlist
taglist: @channiesprincess @romaka344 @mysideeffectsofyou
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Living as an extra in an Omegaverse novel
Chapter 1
When it comes to main dishes, there is always a wine that perfectly matches them.
Like the relationship between the two main characters who are destined to fall in love. The main sub and the main gong are the relationship between the main dish and wine.
Since the main dish was followed by the main drink, the sub dish was just an appetizer that would enhance the taste of the main dish. No matter how good the appetizer is, it cannot surpass the main dish. In other words, the sub dish can never occupy the main.
"If I give this to Jin-ha, will he like it?"
The sub dish, who didn't know that, chose a gift to give to the main sub again today.
Se-hyeon looked at Shin Tae-oh, the poor guy.
Shin Tae-oh was the CEO of a construction company and came from a prestigious background, being the fifth-generation heir of a noble house. With a height of 190 centimetres, broad shoulders, a firm chest, and most importantly, a line that runs down to his perfectly sculpted buttocks, he was a man who embodied true artistry. 
He was a man who had a way with words and could lead conversations quite pleasantly. When it needed to be ominous, he was ominous, and when it needed to be cute, he was cute. That man with all those qualities was my boss, Shin Tae-oh.
"He's a guy like that, so he's the sub."
Naturally, someone lacking something becomes the main, and someone who has everything becomes the sub, unable to obtain even one main.
Se-hyeon looked at the gloves that Shin Tae-oh pointed to. They say it's a new product that just came out and it costs 10 million won.
'A million won for a finger?'
Regardless of what thoughts he had in mind, Se-hyeon called an employee without showing any expression.
"Please wrap it up."
The question of whether Jin-ha would like it if he gave it to him.
In other words, that means 'buy it.'
Interpreting the meaning of the words, Se-hyeon conveyed Shin Tae-oh's instructions to the employee. A card that is in my pocket but cannot be swiped.
The employee disappeared with the card and gloves. After a while, I was handed something to pack and put in a small shopping bag, and I stood in front of President Shin Tae-oh.
"I will pass it on to Yoo Jin-ha."
"Okay." Ah, it's obvious that if I just give it, I won't receive it.
Yoo Jin-ha was an office worker at President Shin Tae-oh's company. He is a fairly conscientious employee who works in the design department and even became an assistant manager. So, the current president is currently in an unrequited love with an employee of his company.
"Your hands get cracked because it's cold, they say they give it to you because it's difficult to draw."
Stop making excuses.
Come up with something somewhat plausible. He said he was smart but always made the same excuse.
"Alright."
Although it was already visible what would happen to this armour, Se-hyeon carried out the order without saying a word.
***
Se-hyeon is the secretary. It's been over five years since I was possessed in the novel, and it's been a little less than three years since I became the president's secretary. I can't tell you how surprised I was when I first found out I was in a novel. 
However, he was not the main character, nor was he a villain who would die and disappear. He knew he was just an extra and he relaxed for a while.
"At least you don't die."
My father who earns a living by doing manual labour and my mother who saves money by sewing clothes, despite their hard work, have given me love that I envy no rich man's son for. Thanks to them, it wasn't all bad for Se-hyeon, who lived as an orphan before being adopted. I gained parents and a sense of family.
Living a poor but stable life had the biggest impact on me when I started looking for a job before graduating from college. Is there a way for me to live well while maintaining this family?
The solution came quickly. I planned to use the original work I knew as much as possible.
"First of all, since you know who the villain is, avoid him."
These people are truly people who cannot be rehabilitated, so for no reason, you'd get burned by being around them.
"The main character is so tiring."
It's a shock to be next to two people whose love for each other is firmly established through all kinds of crises.
Se-hyeon, who was worried, found a very suitable partner.
"Shin Tae-oh."
As a sub character figure, there is no major crisis and I have quite a bit of information. I can't say he had a very good personality, but he definitely took care of everyone. So, I thought that if I could stick with it, I could work for a long time. Once we decided on the opponent, it was easy from then on.
After the interview, I entered the frontlines and assisted with different tasks. Thanks to matching Shin Tae-oh's needs well, I even became his personal secretary.
It was easy to accommodate his personality.
Act with discretion and be mindful of your actions.
Shin Tae-oh's public image is flawless anyway. However, if you act out of line in private matters, you will no longer be compatible. As Shin Tae-oh doesn't keep incompatible secretaries around, all I had to do was maintain that.
Perhaps that's why, excluding a few secretaries, I quickly got promoted and secured my position.
In addition to my stable monthly salary, thanks to the occasional bonus from Shin Tae-oh, Se-hyeon's situation noticeably improved. It was enough to handle the responsibilities of my parents' lives, even though it wasn't abundant. Thanks to the reduced burden in their lives, my parents' health also improved.
"Of course, I'm happy too."
The studio he currently lives in alone is clean and worth living in, and Se-hyeon's life isn't bad as he works under a normal boss. On the contrary, it's too good.
Only one thing.
Se-hyeon held up a shopping bag.
'Except for what happens when you can't let go of your lingering affection for the main leads.'
Anyway, the story in the novel is progressing and the subplot is intensifying.
"I came to see Assistant Manager Yoo Jin-ha."
"Wait for me."
Se-hyeon called the main number in a business-like tone and stood on one side of the hallway.
As I was watching them without interfering with the passage of others, Yoo Jin-ha soon came out.
"Hello, Secretary Ahn Se-hyeon."
"Hello, I have something to discuss."
Jin-ha looked around and said that there would be no one in the restroom right now. Se-hyeon nodded and started heading in that direction, feeling the gaze of people.
The CEO's personal secretary meeting an assistant was the object of curiosity. However, Se-hyeon, who had no intention of explaining the situation to them, casually ignored their stares.
As soon as they entered the restroom, Yoo Jin-ha spoke.
"What's the matter?"
"The CEO asked me to deliver this."
"What is this...?"
If I asked them to open it themselves, they would refuse without even looking inside.
"It's gloves."
"I'm sorry, but I can't accept a gift Iike this. It's burdensome and I don't know why I should receive it again."
"He said he's giving it to you because it's cold, your hands get chapped and it's difficult to draw."
Se-hyeon relayed what President Shin Tae-oh said without a single mistake.
"Because it's cold?"
Jin-ha's hair swayed in the warm air coming from the ceiling. It's winter outside but it's warm inside the company. Yoo Jin-ha's forehead seems to be wet. Is it sweat?
"Anyway, he gave it to me for that reason."
The excuses are the boss's responsibility, but the embarrassment is mine.
"I'm sorry. I will decline."
"Understood."
Se-hyeon, who had no intention of forcibly accepting, grabbed the doorknob to leave the restroom without hesitation.
"Secretary Ahn Se-hyeon."
"Why are you asking?"
Did he change his mind midway and want to accept the gloves?
"Do you happen to have a lover?"
Yoo Jin-ha must be developing feelings for the male lead, so why would he ask such a question?
"Ah... Someone else asked me to inquire."
Perhaps Yoo Jin-ha noticed the reason behind my gaze and quickly added a remark. In that case, it's easy to answer.
No, I don't have one. And I have no plans to have one in the future.
"Yes, there is."
Although I happened to read this novel and entered this world, there was one thing I still couldn't get used to. That's a trait. No matter how many times I looked at the trait on my resident registration card, I couldn't get used to it.
Se-hyeon bowed his head in greeting and left.
Se-hyeon went back the way he came, ignoring the glances glancing at his face again. That's okay because I'm a secretary who just needs to satisfy President Shin Tae-oh's mood.
'Relaxing.'
This world.... my life.
Se-hyeon, who came into the body of an extra, was having a miserable work life today.
***
"He refused?"
"Yes."
There was no question as to why he refused. Instead, Shin Tae-oh glared at the shopping bag with dissatisfied eyes.
"Why don't you accept my gift?"
Would you accept it?
"Is the gift any good?"
You probably aren't that good.
"Or on the contrary, do you feel burdened by the gift?"
Huh. No. You are a burden.
I wanted to scold him and tell him not to blame the object, but Se-hyeon just stood there with an expressionless face. Unfortunately, President Shin Tae-oh cannot use the gloves because he bought them. Since his hands were different sizes, there was only one way to handle this.
"Shall I get a refund?"
"It's okay. Secretary Ahn can have it."
"Alright."
President Shin Tae-oh muttered, scolding Yoo Jin-ha, who did not accept his feelings again today, and Se-hyeon looked with loving eyes at the gloves he would wear starting tomorrow.
"However…"
Se-hyeon put his hand holding the shopping bag behind him and raised his eyes with feigned indifference.
"Does Jin-ha like king crab?"
Se-hyeon swallowed his saliva and answered.
"I'll make a reservation."
Next chapter
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bear-cubs-art-things · 11 months
Text
PART ONE LETS GOOOOOOO
Super nervous very nervous hngjbghngbg
I have no idea how England works so just. Bear with me as an American. Fhshshsusudhfjdndg (it's not like this takes place in any place in particular, and I'll do my best to make it as reminiscent to England/Britain as possible, but if there are any discrepancies please let me know :)) )
Okay!:
○°-_-*×-_-○°♡°○-_-×*-_-°○
It was very early on a Monday morning. The sun was barely up, merely a bold orange-pink stripe across a dark blue grey horizon. Birds softly chirped their morning song, speaking of (that is, if they COULD speak) endless blue skies and soft yet cold bread crumbs.
Houses could be seen. Nice, orderly houses, all identical as houses go. The only way one could be distinguished from the other were porch decorations on what could be called the porch. Then, of course, the house numbers.
In house 236, off the corner of Orchid Street and Daragon Fly Avenue, a slumbering teen stirs in his bed.
Downstairs, a quiet sizzling of bacon in a pan cooks on the stove, eggs in a carton sitting politely beside the stove a few inches away. A toaster spits out two slices of white bread, toasted of course. A man wearing a white apron and business work clothes hums a tune on the radio. This man is Mel A. Traunn.
Mel Traunn is an officer worker at a financial firm, with highly regarded banks across the country. He works with the big heads, the head men, the CEOs. He may be rather small on the business food chain, and probably not as high as he wants to be, but at least he can feed him and his son.
Upstairs, in a dark, tidy bedroom, slept Azira Fell, 15 year old boy and currently attending Eldritch High. He's short, with a wide, somewhat thick build, and soft. Currently, short, white (in all technicality, it was a very pale shade of blonde) was a mess atop his head. He was sleeping soundly.
Bee-ba-ba-beep! Bee-ba-ba-beep! Bee-ba-ba-beep!
"Hrrng..."
Azira turned over, and felt around his nightstand for his alarm clock, turning it off once he did. Then he felt around for his glasses.
His glasses were small framed and circular, the kind of old frames those in the later 1800s would wear.
He liked the 1800s, actually. Their clothing was quite nice.
With some early morning bitterness (the kind when you have to get out of bed on an early Monday morning), and grogginess, Azira got out of bed.
It was the first day of school. You know how it is. Same routine of waking up at what felt like dawn, dressing in your most impressive outfits, and going to school only to neglect your studies.
Azira had a... put it this way, it wasn't exactly a stylish fashion sense by today's standards. He wore button up dress shirts underneath plaid sweater vests, slacks and shoes (may I add, his shoes were more in today's fashion than the rest of his wardrobe, though still worn out and one may say outdated). He owned a wristwatch as well, which fitted everything together. It was his father's, which is not to be confused with Mr. Traunn. (Traunn was actually his uncle, but since Azira had been living with him since early childhood, with no real recollection of his birth parents, it was easier and much simpler to call Traunn his father.)
Today, he wore a light blue shirt, with a plaid sweater vest of various shades of brown. He wore khaki slacks, and his slightly worn out black Converses (like I said, the only modern fashion item in his closet). He brushed his hair out, styling it up with some hair gel. It looked no more than a weightless tuft atop his head.
Traunn heard Azira's footsteps from downstairs- light, but still audible- and decided to make him a plate. Breakfast was still hot.
Azira went through his typical morning routine... brushing hair and teeth, deodorant, finding that one book to read at school (today it was A Tale of Two Cities), you know the drill.
The smell of bacon wafted upstairs, and Aziras stomach rumbled with hunger.
Azira grabbed his bag (a single strap satchel that gave off the vibe of some high end scholar) and went downstairs.
The kitchen was a homey one; kept clean and organized, and photos of Azira and Traunn were hung up on the wall. The counter was a polished white and grey marble, the cabinets a matching white. The appliances were a stainless steel silver, the floor a walnut wood.
The whole house, in fact, was a clean, white one. It wasn't exactly all white, but most of its furnishing and detail were on the lighter side. The walls were a light grey-blue, the trimming white, most of the furniture was white or pale cream. The only dark accent was the floor; it was the same walnut wood throughout. The carpet was a color between grey and beige, which could be either considered on the lighter side or the dark accents.
Azira took a seat at the island on one of the beige barstools, greeted by a plate of continental breakfast.
"Gooood morning," Traunn said.
"Good morning," Azira replied.
"Excited?"
Traunn was referring to the first day back at school.
Azira shrugged. "Not really."
"Aw, you gotta be at least a little excited!"
At this point, they were both eating at the island. The stove was off, and Traunn had taken off his apron. Not a single food stain.
"Ehh..." Azira trailed off, shrugging a little more.
"Not one to get excited over school?" Traunn teased.
"I like school," Azira started, "it's just gotten to the point where I don't get excited over it anymore."
"Mm," Traunn nodded in acknowledgement.
The two ate I silence briefly.
"Know who your teachers are?" Traunn asked.
"Erm..." Azira set down his fork and fumbled through his bag for his schedule. "Not really."
Azira found his schedule, and read through it once more. He nearly had it committed to memory.
First period, history. Second period, English. Third period, PE. Fourth period, chemistry. Lunch. Fifth period, art. Sixth period, study hall. Seventh period, algebra 2.
Not very spectacular or special.
The teachers' names and rooms were written on the schedule, under their respective subjects. So yes, Azira knew their names and where to find them, but aside that he didn't know them.
He slid his schedule over to his dad, and he took a look at it.
"Huh," Traunn said, sliding Azira's schedule back to him.
Azira put away his schedule, and caught a glimpse of the time on his wristwatch.
"Oh!" He got up with a start. He could still catch the bus, if he hurried.
He gathered all his stuff (his bag and phone) and hurried out the door. He was two steps out the door when he felt something was off
Wait a minute. He felt his upper chest, where a ring should be.
Oh how could forget!
He ran back inside and dashed up to his room to grab the ring.
The ring was his late mother's ring, made of gold and with beautiful craftsmanship. It had ornate details of flowers and butterflies. It was her most prized possession. Now it was Azira's. He never wore it on his finger, but instead kept it on a necklace chain and wore it as such.
He once more left the house, barely hearing Traunn's "Have a good day!" on his way out.
He knew that if he ran, he would make it to the bus stop on time. He still had 15 minutes.
He could make it. So he ran.
And just as his calculations predicted, he caught the public transit bus loading its last passengers for that stop.
he got on the bus, winded and slightly sore from running. He found an empty seat and sat down.
He was at least awake. And on a more negative note, slightly sweaty.
Definitely need to get in shape, he thought retrospectively.
The bus engine shivered and went along its way. The next stop was, more or less, 20 minutes away. The stop that Azira needed to get off of anyway. Then it was roughly a 15 minute walk from there to the school.
Azira decided to read.
~~~
The school was a nice one. The exterior of the building itself was red brick, each one nearly fitted into its space. Cobblestone steps led up to the main entry doors. There was brilliant green grass, neatly trimmed and maintained. A raised garden bed were on either side of the steps, with flourishing flowers of many colors. The school was a university campus at one point, but then it was remodeled as a high school. It even had a library on campus that was it's own separate facility. The campus was expansive (more so, expensive).
Azira felt slightly overwhelmed every time he saw it. It wasn't the first time he saw it, but you can't help but feel as though the schools too big.
He walked through the hallway leading to his history class. They were wide and spacious by nature, but with all the students in the halls, it sure damn didn't feel like it.
Azira made himself small and unnoticeable. No one will remember you if you didn't stand out and make a presence. Life was easier that way.
He swerved and dodged his way through the hall, and eventually Azira found the history classroom. It was mostly empty, aside from a few desks with students in them. All of which were busy with their own entertainment... mostly playing their phones.
Azira found a seat close in the back.
He put down his stuff, and continued reading his book.
It felt like a second until the bell rang for school to start. It may have been about 5 minutes, and it had been, but time flies when you're occupied.
Nonetheless, the hallways got even busier as students scrambled to find their classes. Footsteps echoed a cacophony, and chatter was no more than useless noise. The world seemed to rush by in the doorway, between the students filing in the classroom and the students walking outside.
Azira paid no mind to anyone or anything. He simply kept reading.
The warning bell rang once, then again as classes began. The room, at this point, was quite full, both with students and with chatter.
"Okay!"
The teacher rose from his desk in the corner of the room, and the class hushed.
"Good morning, everyone," he walked over to the center of the room, in front of his whiteboard. A few "good mornings" echoed quietly in response.
Azira bookmarked the page he was reading and put it away.
"I'm Professor Wensleydale, and welcome to history class!"
Professor Wensleydale had light, nearly golden brown hair and dark brown eyes. He wore an outfit that screamed his profession - a white dress shirt, buttoned up to the throat, and khaki pants. He had dress shoes that were a common shade of mid-range brown, the kind you see oh so often in the men's formal wear section of a department store. The only splash of color was his tie, a subdued reddish-pink. Thick, round, black glasses sat on the nose of his pale, freckled face. He looks like the type of person who'd read thick books of law for leisure. Bookish, you'd say.
The whole class period was spent on a "get-to-know-you" activity, where you would research your name and write the origins of your name on a piece of printer paper. Azira was a little enthusiastic about this, since he was artistic by nature. He could draw very well, and kept a sketchbook (he has a collection of all his sketchbooks, in fact). Other than that, the class was mostly uneventful.
The bell for second period rang.
"Be sure to bring your posters tomorrow!" Professor Wensleydale called out to the quickly exiting students. "Make them colorful and pretty! We will present them!"
On to second period then, Azira thought.
The school floor plan, it should be noted, was a two story building, plus a library (also two floors) and a separate performing arts wing (technically it was a one story building, but there is an upstairs overheard light control for the theater spotlights). The science and history classrooms were, for the most part, on the bottom floor, plus the cafeteria (foods class is also here). Upstairs were the language arts, math, and non-performing arts electives classes (such as art, pottery, speech and debate, etc).
This is to say that Azira was going from the downstairs history class to an upstairs English class.
The class was half full, most of the desks in the back corner of the room were filled. A few in the front were also filled, but not as such.
Azira found another desk in the back. It was closer to the center of the classroom, but still. The room was filling up rather quickly
Azira didn't particularly notice, because he was reading. Again.
"Excuse me," a voice asked.
It seemed directed to him. Azira looked up.
A tall, thin figure stood over him. Well, over the desk in front of him anyway.
The figure had long crimson hair, wavy and pulled back in a loose pony tail. He wore dark, dark sunglasses, so dark Azira could barely make out his golden-yellow eyes. He wore a leather jacket, a grey tank-top, and baggy jeans with one of those black belts all the queer kids seem to wear. You know the ones. He also wore black boots with a slight heel.
He was good-looking, charming even. There was this energy around him that made him seem more intimidating than he let on, and he definitely looked like he didn't care about anyone's opinion about him.
Azira went warm in the ears.
"'S anyone sittin' here?" He nodded to the desk he was hovering over.
"N-no..." Azira answered quickly, and lowered his eyes back to his book.
"Hm."
The boy sat down at the desk, lazily draping himself over the seat.
Azira glanced back up at the boy. He could only see the back of his red head. He swallowed.
Warmth crept from his ears to his cheeks.
Oh dear...
Azira looked down at his book again, trying to shake off his blush.
The bell rang.
The teacher, Miss Device, stood up and took attendance. Each student said (or at least, something along the lines of) "here" as their names were called.
"Next..." Miss Device thumbed the next name on her roster. "Anthony Crowley?"
She looked up and scanned the room for Anthony Crowley.
The boy in front of Azira rose a nonchalant hand, silent.
"Right," Device thumbed the next name.
So that's his name, Azira thought. It suit him, if he was being honest. He definitely looked like an Anthony...
"Azira Fell?"
Azira looked up with a start, caught off guard.
"Here." Azira raised a hand to make his location within the class known.
He glanced back at Anthony. Then back down at his book. He thought it was best if he continued reading.
"So," Miss Device set down her roster, "We're going to a little activity in pairs, and I'm going to assign partners for you to work with."
She started assigning partners, which was simple and straightforward. The desks were organized in rows of five, and she assigned them within those rows. The first and second desks in that row were partners, the third and fourth desks were partners, and the back two desks were partners. The next row, the fourth and third desks were partners, so on and so forth.
There was one desk left empty, so everyone got a partner, with no odd groups of three.
As it turns out, Azira was paired up with Anthony. Wa-hoo.
The activity was another get-to-know-you activity, but it was the slightly cheesy questionnaire type. It was fun enough, one would think.
Miss Device passed out the papers with the questions on it, and everyone had started once they got their papers.
"So, who's gonna go first?" Anthony asked, turned the wrong way in his chair (sitting chest to the back of the chair).
Azira straightened up a little bit. "I suppose I will."
"Mmkay," Anthony looked down at his paper. "Question one; what's y'name?"
"Azira," He responded. "I can spell it if you want."
"'S all good," Anthony wrote down "Azira" under question one on Azira's desk. "Favorite color."
"I do like yellow quite a bit."
Anthony raised his eyebrows in interest. Or acknowledgement, either one. He continued.
"Favorite school subject?"
"Art, I suppose."
Anthony looked up. "You're an artist, I take?"
Azira nodded.
"Hm," Anthony nodded. "Favorite food."
"I don't really have a favorite."
"Well ya gotta have a favorite," Anthony looked up again, grinning. "Everyone has a favorite food."
"Well..." Azira trailed off, thinking of a meal he enjoyed most.
"Eh, don't matter," Anthony continued on. "How 'bout favorite hobby?"
"Reading," Azira said, before quickly adding, "And drawing too, if you'd like to write that down."
"Hmm," Anthony wrote down both.
There were more questions, about 10 in all, and Azira answered all of them. The rest of the questions included favorite movie/tv show, place, celebrity, book, and animal. They were, as aforementioned, cheesy, but who's one to judge.
It was Azira's turn to ask questions.
"Your name?"
"Y'can put down Crowley."
So he did.
Why his last name? Azira decided not to ask.
"Favorite color?"
"Eh..." Anthony thought some. "I think red. Red."
"Favorite subject?"
"Band, prolly."
Azira looked up with mild surprise. "You're in band?"
"Yeah."
"You don't strike me as the type."
Anthony smiled. "I tend to defy expectations."
"I suppose..."
The two went back and forth, answering the questions for Anthony.
Curiousity got the best of Azira.
"Erm, Anthony-" Azira asked.
"You can just call me Crowley."
"Yes- uh, Crowley," Azira folded his hands together somewhat nervously, afraid he was going to over boundaries with his next question. "Why do you prefer to be called by your last name?"
Crowley gave an amused snort.
"Funny story. Basically, when people want t' really vocalize their hatred or disgust f'r me, they resort to sayin' my last name. Like, oozing with vile hatred sayin' it. It kinda stuck. I like the ring t' it."
"Hmm..." Azira nodded in acknowledgement.
"Okay," Miss Device stood up from her desk. "We're now going to share our answers."
She looked at the class. "Does anyone want to go first?"
~~~
The day went by fairly quickly. Each class was relatively easy to find, and come to find out, Crowley was in most of Azira's classes.
Azira was at home sitting at his desk, drawing. He enjoyed drawing, quite a lot, actually. He felt as though drawing was more of a way to explain many feelings at once in an abstract form, rather than writing paragraphs of diary entries. He did have a journal, but more or less to keep important notes.
He was drawing a portrait of a fictional character. Not any particular character, just one that came to his mind as he went along.
"Azira! Dinner!"
"One moment!"
He closed his sketchbook and put it away in a drawer. He would come back to it, for sure, to finish his drawing. He always does.
He thought about the day at school.
And with that, he thought of crimson hair and yellow eyes, and their unintentional beauty. The image of a what Azira thought was a handsome face came to his mind; the edges of his jawline, the large, slightly pointed nose.
He shoved those thoughts away. He didn't think like that, right? How embarrassing.
Azira went downstairs and sat at the table, where dinner lay waiting and hot.
A steak dinner with potatoes and green beans.
"How was school?"
"Good, I suppose."
Traunn had changed from a full suit to just his shirt and pants. He had already started working on his plate.
"Anything interesting?"
"Not really."
"Oh."
The two mostly ate in silence for the rest of the meal.
~~~
Azira lay in bed, awake even after he was supposed to be asleep. He was just staring at the ceiling. Crowley's face flickered in and out his thoughts.
Wavy locks framing the face. Dark sunglasses hiding barely visible yellow eyes; you really had to look to see em. A grin that radiated smug energy. Surprisingly enough, a band kid. I wonder what instrument he plays...
He really did try not to think about it. But, God damn it, what was the point in trying.
He was thinking on how he would see him again tomorrow. Admittingly, he was looking forward to it. Even just a glance at him, he was looking forward to it.
Well... this certainly isn't unfamiliar territory.
Bugger, Azira thought as he turned over to try and get some sleep. Here we go again.
He closed his eyes, and sleep came to him.
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