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#like as a follow up to my resume. you hired me even though it says i went to jughead school right there on the paper. and that is on you
garbagequeer · 1 year
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today i understood a lot about my workplace when i realized i was like the only one on my team who didnt work yesterday bc of the strike. im surrounded by insane people
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ybklix · 20 days
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𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲
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dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg
★ lee felix
✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.
✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / idol!felix / felix x fem reader / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol
word count: 5.1k
(masterlist)
♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡
a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!
There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”
You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.
There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.
Life was going greate for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.
They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.
A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.
So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.
You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.
“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”
Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.
You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.
“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.
The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.
But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.
“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.
You nodded, confused, he went on to say:
“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.
You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.
You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.
All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.
Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.
Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.
But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.
You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.
You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.
You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.
“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.
You saw them, they looked totally lost.
“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.
“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.
You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.
Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.
He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.
The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.
But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.
You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.
“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”
“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”
Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.
“After party, with who?”
The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.
“Well, who are you working for.”
Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.
You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.
“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”
“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.
“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.
“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.
“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.
You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.
You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.
“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.
It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.
You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.
You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.
Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.
After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.
“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.
You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.
Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.
What was going on?
Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.
So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.
Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.
“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”
Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.
“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.
“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”
Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.
You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.
He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.
“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.
He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.
Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.
He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.
“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.
This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.
“Get on your knees, beautiful.”
He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.
Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.
Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.
You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.
He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.
So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.
“Use your pretty mouth.”
You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.
Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.
“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”
He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….
You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.
He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.
You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.
“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.
“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.
You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.
“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.
But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.
“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”
And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.
He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.
And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.
“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.
“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”
Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.
“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”
Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.
You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.
Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.
“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”
You tried to nod between gripping your hair.
“Say it.”
“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”
“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”
His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.
Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.
You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.
“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”
You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.
“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”
“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.
You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.
“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.
You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.
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yelenasdiary · 1 year
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Different Kind of Love - Part I
Pairing: CEO! MobBoss! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant! Reader (Platonic)
Summary: Working for Natasha was never easy and being a low-level assistant for the CEO wasn’t where you thought you’d be after working your hardest for 2 years. After catching you in tears on Christmas Eve, Natasha cold ways start to warm up.
Dark Themes | Angst | Comfort | Language Warning | Reader is a single mum | Sexual Assault Mentions | Spiking | Mentions of drinking | Mentions of Depression | 3.6K | 
Notes: Dylan’s dialog is meant to sound like how a 5-year-old would talk and his nickname is Dyl and not a misspell. Reader is 26 while Natasha is 38.  
Different Kind of Love Masterlist
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"Good morning, Miss Romanova" you smiled softly after knocking on Natasha's office glass door. The redhead looked up and smiled in return for only you to see, "Good morning, did you have a lovely break?" She asked. After Christmas, Natasha gave you two weeks off, paid of course, to enjoy some much needed one on one time with your 5-year-old son, Dylan.
 "It was lovely, thank you so much for everything with Christmas and giving me some time off, it really means a lot to me and Dylan" 
Natasha nodded slightly, "You're very welcome, like I said, you have been working extremely hard and I'm sorry I didn't see that before. Dylan is a great kid and I hope this new position will give you both more time together" she smiled once again, "Now, I'm really sorry but we have a meeting in about 25 minutes about the Davis case. Can you please make sure meeting room 4 is set up and ready?" she asked while putting her reading glasses back on. 
"Of course, Miss Romanova"
Natasha is the CEO and Founder of Romanova Lawyers. Being a lawyer herself, she and her business are one of the most successful businesses in New York City. Natasha has won over 450 cases and is considered one of the highest paid lawyers in the country. Not only does she own a law firm, but she also has another side business that runs through Romanova Lawyers which offers clients to hire Natasha herself or another highly skilled detective to do private detective work. Safe to say, Natasha is a very busy woman with a lot of money. 
It didn't matter what job it was, if you could get a job at Romanova Lawyers, you basically had a golden ticket into the work force. Many other law firms will hire past employees with Romanova Lawyers on their resume simply because you worked there. Getting a past employee of Romanova Lawyers was almost like getting the best football player to play on your team. 
Now that you have a new role at the firm, your work is a lot more interesting than before. You'd follow Natasha from meeting to meeting, taking notes, and making sure the Russian had all the necessary paperwork she needed before court or a meeting. She still would ask you to do some pointless jobs like a coffee run or pick up her dry cleaning, but you didn't mind doing that as much. Her attitude towards you was very different to how she treated the other employees. Her cold ways were still just as strong, she still groaned and raised her voice at people for small mistakes and even though you thought it was very harsh of her, you couldn't help but see this was the way she was able to become the woman she is now. 
"This case is going to be a fucking pain in my arse" Natasha mumbled while walking beside you as she quickly refreshed her memory of the case details, "why are men so stupid?!" she added with a light shake of her head. "Would you like me to record this meeting or just take notes today?" you asked, ignoring her comments that she clearly was saying to herself. "Might have to record this one" she replied before handing you the case file and adjusting her dress before walking into the meeting room with a welcoming smile. "Gentlemen, shall we start?" 
----
After your shift, your new hours being 7 am to 3:30pm you made some last-minute emails and signed off for the day. "I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Romanova, don't forget you have a skype call appointment with a Miss Maximoff at 4:45" you smiled with your head peeking into her office, "oh yes! Thank you for that reminder. Have a lovely night, say hey to Dylan for me" Natasha quickly looked up at you and waved you off. 
"Mommy!" Dylan came running from the living room and wrapping his arms around your legs before you could even kick your shoes off, "Hi honey, how was your day?" you asked with a smile on your lips as you placed your handbag on the floor. "It was good, but my fire truck needs more batteries and Kate don't know where you put them" he looked up at you with his big blue eyes and curly dark hair, "Do you want to go and get your truck for me?" you ruffed his curls before he took off back into the living room. 
"Hey there Miss Moore" Kate smiled while wiping down your kitchen countertop, "Kate, we've been through this" you shook your head playfully, "call me Y/n" you added. "I forgot, I'm so sorry" she replied, "Dylan just had his afternoon snack, he had half a banana and a small bowl of yoghurt so he should be fine until dinner" Kate explained, "oh and his fire truck Santa got him for Christmas needs new batteries, but I wasn't sure where you kept them" 
"Thank you so much for today. I usually keep them in my room, so I'll get some for him. I'll just go and get your money" 
"Here's my truck mommy" Dylan returned with his fire truck in his hands, "Thank you honey, I'll go get some new batteries right now can you do me a favour and get mommy's purse from her handbag please?" you kindly took his toy from his small hands, "sure mommy" Dylan smiled and raced off to get your purse. "God he's adorable" you heard Kate speak to herself, "You're not here when the word No is used" you joked before walking down the hall to your room. 
After dinner and Dylan was in bed you were doing your nightly routine of catching up on emails for work, looking at school for Dylan to start in September and now with the extra money you're making, you were considering putting him into pre-school. Being 5 years-old and barely having any friends and not having the time to do pick up and drop off you were excited for your son to finally make some friends and start learning new things every day that would blow his mind. 
*Buzz Buzz*
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A smile tugged at your lips when reading the message. Christmas was different but lovely to spend with Natasha, you learnt so much about her and saw a side of her that you wished the entire office was able to see. The way she kicked off her heels and got on her knees to play with Dylan and his trucks, the way she sat with him and helped him read one of the books 'Santa' had gotten him but mostly what stood out to you was the way she spoke to you, the way she opened up to you and shared things about her life that honestly took you by surprise. 
——
The next morning you walked into the office already hearing the raised voice of an annoyed Russian. "Candice, do you think I give a crap about your husbands broke foot?! I asked for these documents to be done before today!" She slammed the file onto her desk. "I'm sorry Miss Romanova, I was doing them last night, but I ran out of time, I'm really sorry" the lovely woman who couldn't even hurt a fly or even yell at one for that matter replied. "News flash Candice, we're going to be late because of this!" Natasha spat back grabbing a pen from her pen holder. "Candice, why don't you go back to your desk, I'll take care of this" you whispered standing behind the woman, giving her an apologetic smile when she saw you, "Thank you" she mouthed.
Natasha frustratingly scribbled down words onto the unfinished documents with a huff and puff, "Miss Romanova, I'll finish those, you have to get ready for the Davis case in court today" you offered as you walked into her office. "No! These should have been done yesterday! How are things supposed to ever get done when people don't listen?!" She snapped, nothing unusual for you. "I'll have them done within the hour; I promise"
"Fine" Natasha sighed, placing her pen on top of the small pile of documents and grabbed her coat from behind her chair and her brief case from the side of her desk. She wore her hair up and a black suit with a red shirt underneath. "I can't be dealing with people's mistakes today. Do you hear me?!" She looked up at you, "Yes, Miss Romanova" you nodded before she brushed by you, storming out of the office. 
Everybody was on edge today whenever Natasha was around, after yet another case won, you'd think she would be happy but the look on her face when she looked up at you spoke other words. "Cancel all my remaining appointments and meetings today. I have some things to take care of for the rest of the day" she huffed, unloading her briefcase, "But Miss Romanova, the Maximoff case is marked urgent" you reminded her. "Well, you fucking deal with it!" Her eyes shot up at you full of rage which worried you as you'd never seen her like this before, "Just cancel or move whatever the fuck I have left today and don't let anybody contact me!" she added as she grabbed her keys and handbag from the bottom drawer of her desk. 
"Yes ma'am" you replied watching her walk out of the office. 
It wasn't until Saturday that you'd see her again. The rest of the week you had to postpone and move her meetings to a time that you only hoped would work better for her. You wanted to message her and ask if she was okay and ask when she'd be back into the office but decided to give her space. 
A knock at your apartment door made little Dylan jump with excitement, "I'll get it!" He called from his room. "No, you won't honey, we spoke about this!" you hollaed back already having your hand on the door handle and pulling it open. "Miss Roma- I mean, Natasha, Hi" you smiled even though you were shocked to see her at your door. "Hey, are you guys ready? We don't want to be late" she asked with a small smile of her own. 
"Miss Romanova!!!" Dylan came running down the hall with a wide smile. "Hey there kiddo!" Nat kneeled down to his level, "Are you ready?" she asked him. Dylan nodded, "will there be other kids?" your son asked with a hint of hope to finally be able to play with other children. He's always been so good at making new friends no matter how old they were, walking down the mall Dylan would always say hello to strangers. As nice as it was, it worried you that he was so open to talking to people he didn't know. 
"There's going to be plenty of other children for you to meet and play with, are you excited?" 
"Yes! Mommy said I can start pre-school this year" Dylan boosted with excitement, "That sounds very exciting" Natasha smiled softly at the young boy, "we should get going" she looked up at you. "I'll just get my handbag" you replied. 
----
"Isn't he a bit late for pre-school?" Natasha asked while Dylan was busy playing on his tablet, the car ride would be an hour long and for an excited young boy, that was like years. "Only by a year, I wanted to put him in last year but uh," you paused and looked away from your boss, "it was just my work hours, I wouldn't have been free for pick up and drop off, so it was just easier to get a sitter", you didn't want to talk about Dylan's pre-school admission, you wanted to ask her where she'd been, is she was okay but did you even have a place to say anything?
"I had some family things to deal with. I'm sorry I didn't contact you; I was confident you were able to step up and take charge while I was gone" Natasha spoke, seeing the way you looked at her, screaming your questions to her without saying a word. "You don't have to explain anything, I was able to move things to next week and the Maximoff case we decided to wait until you came back. I'm not a lawyer and I never went to law school so I wasn't sure what to do" you explained, your palms starting to sweat hoping she wouldn't cuss at you in front of Dylan but instead she nodded, "thank you, I'm sorry it was sprung on you like that" 
"It's okay, family always has to come first" you gave her an assuring smile, "you're right, it does" Natasha replied with her eyes shifting to Dylan. 
Arriving at the party, you were introduced to Natasha's best friend, Clint Barton and his family, Laura his wife and their children, Copper, Lila and Nathaniel. It was Nathaniel's birthday party and just as Natasha mentioned, there were plenty of other children for Dylan to mix with. 
"Hi, I'm Dylan" he smiled at Nathaniel, "Hey, do you want to join me and my friends in a nerf gun fight?" Nathaniel offered. "What's that?" Dylan asked picking at the hem of his shirt nervously, "it's just a toy gun fight, with these soft bullets they won't hurt and if you want you can wear my old armour vest" Nathaniel offered with a smile. Dylan looked up at you, his eyes full of excitement but he always made sure his mommy said yes before taking off with anybody, especially somebody he just met. "Go on, baby, go have some fun" you smiled and before you could blink, Dylan was running off with this new friend. 
"So, how long have you been working for Natasha?" Laura asked sipping her iced tea. "3 years in June actually. It's gone by pretty quickly, but I've enjoyed it for the most part" you replied forgetting any of the bad. "She's not tough on you, is she? I know she can be a little bossy" Laura chuckled, "oh no, never" you said sarcastically, chuckling with her. 
For the first time since Dylan was born, you found yourself enjoying the company of other mothers and fathers, people who knew exactly what you were talking about and even shared stories of how their children were when they were younger, funny stories, happy and the normal yuck stories of eating dog biscuits or having poop smeared up their backs. Natasha kept her eye on Dylan even though she knew he was more than safe, she loved watching him run around with her best friend's children with the wide smile that she felt was starting to light a fire in her cold heart. 
Every now and then she helped herself to a quick glance at you as you smiled and laughed with the other parents. The need to protect you came to mind as she sat back and thought about the past 2 years, she's known you. "Nat!" Dylan came running up to the redhead, breaking her thoughts. "What's up kid?" she smiled, "could you please tie my shoes?" he asked kindly, "I can't find mommy" he adds while looking around for you. Natasha nodded and kneeled to tie his light up shoes that Natasha got him for Christmas as a gift from Santa, "Your mommy is just over there" she pointed in your direction. "Thank you, Nat" Dylan smiles and gives her a quick hug, taking her by surprise as she slowly wraps her arms around the small boy and smiles softly at his kindness before he's rushing off to ask you for a drink. 
----
"Thank you so much for today, I had a lovely time and I think Dylan did too" you smiled at Natasha while running your fingers through Dylan's hair as he was snuggled into you fast asleep. "He really enjoyed himself" Natasha watched the scene in front of her, the limo giving plenty of room for you all to get comfortable. 
"He's really excited to start pre-school; I think today was really good for him"
"He told me all about it, you've done and still doing a great job raising him" Natasha complimented as she made eye contact with you. "It hasn't been easy but" you paused as your eyes dropped to your sleeping son, you smiled softly, "he deserves everything I can give him and more" your eyes traveled back to Natasha. There was a moment of silence between the two, you could see Natasha was wanting to ask the question everybody wants to ask, who's Dylan's father? 
"You can ask" you spoke. 
"Ask what?" Natasha frowned slightly.
 "You have that look in your eyes, the one everybody has when they want to know more about Dylan's father"
"You already told me, he couldn't afford to help" Natasha replied, you shook your head, "I lied" you admitted, licking your lips as your eyes fell to Natasha's feet. "What's the story?" she asked as if she didn't have a care for your emotions but looking back in her eyes, who was she to tell? You took a deep breath and made sure Dylan was still fast asleep before gently placing a kiss on the top of his head. 
"He was possessive. When I first met him, he was lovely and so kind you know…he never failed to make you smile or laugh, I considered him a good friend. One of his friends was throwing a party and my parents were fine with me going as long as I wasn't back too late, I was almost 21 and they trusted me. I got to the party and started having a few drinks with my friends. Then later on my friends were heading home but he convinced me to stay for an hour or two, so I did.
I knew better than to get drunk like he was, I had two drinks with him and I was out of my mind. I told him no and that I wanted to go home.." you paused as tears filled your eyes, "all I remember after he pushed me onto the bed was him saying I'd been asking for it all night…3 weeks later I find out I'm pregnant. It took me months to find out who assaulted me that night and when I told him I was pregnant he just laughed at me and said the baby could be his or one of his two friends and that I'd never know because I was too drunk and wasted to remember asking for it" 
Natasha's jaw clenched at the details you shared with her. "But if you were ever saw him, you can see that he's Dylan's father, there's no doubting it" you added, tears streaming down your cheeks. "He needs to help responsible for this" Natasha leaned forward and gently took your hand into hers, "I tried. I went to the police before I found out I was pregnant, and they turned me around and told me to come back when I had hard evidence" you explained.
"But you were pregnant, that's more than enough evidence. They could've done a DNA test"
"Natasha, by the time I processed everything and told my parents…I didn't want people to see me…I hid myself away for most of my pregnancy and after the police turning me away like they did, I didn't think they would believe me. 
"I'm so sorry, Y/n" she wiped your tears and looked deeply into your eyes, "That little boy is so lucky to have you as his mother. You got a fucking amazing job with him, you give him everything a mother could give a child and I have a hell of a lot of respect for you. Thank you for sharing all of that with me"
"Like I said, it hasn't been easy but every morning when I wake up and I get to see his beautiful smile and those big blue eyes he makes me forget all the horror and I only see the good. He saved my life, if I had apported him, I don't know what I would've done" you replied trying your best to keep from crying more. Natasha's soft hands gave yours a gently squeeze, "if you need anything and I mean anything, you come to me. Okay?" she kept strong eye contact with you, "I mean it, I don't care what time you need me, if you and Dylan need me, I will be there" she assured you as you nodded slowly, "thank you Natasha" you replied. 
----
Natasha carried Dylan up to his room for you as you grabbed his backpack full of toys, she gently placed him in his bed and pulled the covers over him before giving him a secret kiss on the forehead, "sleep well kid" she smiled before leaving his room. 
"Thank you so much again for today and tonight, I'm so sorry I was unprofessional and sharing my personal life like that" you looked at her as you placed your belongings on the countertop. "You're not the only one with secrets, maybe another time we can share a bottle of wine and I can share mine" she offered. "That sounds nice" you smiled softly, "Well, I guess I'll see you Wednesday morning" Natasha replied. 
"Wednesday?" 
"Yeah, take Monday and Tuesday as an extended weekend" she playfully winked before heading for the door, "thank you" you said once more. "Y/n, thank me one more time and I'll fire you" Natasha chuckled, "Oh, I'm sorry, boss" you smirked, "goodnight" she shook her head before closing your apartment door.
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wraithchic · 11 days
Text
Rogue Roses
Word Count: 3k+
Ship: Valeria Garza x reader
My past is behind me, finally. Now I own a bar called "Velvet," a name that came to me easily after renovating the interior. I chose a rich red velvet for the seats at the tables. I used to think it was way too luxorious for a bar de mala muerte, my opinion changed when a customer came in and told me it made him feel like royalty, and there and then I felt like I had made the right decision. That comment made me get an uniform, which wasn’t really one, as I was the only person working here at the time, I chose a red velvet low-cut square-neck shirt and black flared pants, which made me feel like a slutty Mrs. Claus and way too navideña all year round, but the uniform makes me confident, and most importantly, brings in tips.
I’m used to dangerous people coming into Velvet, most of the customers are, but the bar isn’t my first time dealing with them. I sometimes feel like I’m the only person with morals inside this place, well, *now* I have some morals.
There’s one server at the bar tonight, his name is Constantino. He was the only person to hand in his resume when I was hiring, but he is the best waiter/bartender/bouncer on the bar, besides me, that is. And although he is a young soul, his body is around fifty-five years old, he also is fucking scary looking, he stands at almost two meters tall and ex-militia, so he is also the security at this place. -I should look into hiring some more help.- I tried to make-up for that scariness by giving him an uniform, just like mine, just that his was a red dress-shirt. We look like a Christmas gone-wrong movie, which wasn’t what I intended but, hey! We look good, I think.
Usually Constantino tends to tables while I work as a bartender, serving everyone who sits at the bar counter. And tonight, that’s the case, but we always take turns on the different jobs.
My shift begins with the usual crowd: drunks and football enthusiasts, we have two TVs at the top of the far right and far left wall, there’s some seats at the bar with no visibility of the TVs so they are empty most of the time. Today is a slow day, just the alcoholics that come here every day, the ones I serve despite the voice in the back of my mind telling me not to; so after a couple of hours, when the door opens and a woman walks in I can’t help but turn in her direction.
She’s wearing a black turtle neck shirt, cargo pants, combat boots, and a knife strapped to her leg, I can tell she’s one of the dangerous people. I don’t want to throw flowers my way, but since owning the bar I’ve gotten really good at profiling. I look at her second too long, but I avert my gaze to the cups I’m washing. The last thing I see about her is she sitting down at one of the almost-always-empty seats.
“One rum shot, linda.” I hear her say. She has an accent, that combined with the very obvious usage of Spanish tells me that she’s probably from Las Almas. Her voice is silky but somehow rough, I wonder how she would sound when she’s eating m… I need to stop that train of thought, I can afford an affair right now. “Yes, coming right up!” I shoot a smile her way as I dry my hands on my apron. As I pour her shot, her eyes never leave me, I feel her gaze burn on my face, I wonder what she’s thinking.
When I give it to her she takes a moment to sip it, savoring the taste before setting the shot glass down. I don’t really take pride in my shots though, a couple years back I leaned to mix drinks so the other beverages I serve are way better. I leave after handing her her drink to tend to other clients, although I would stay just to admire her gorgeous face… Oh Gods, stop it Y/N, you can’t get involved with a customer you don’t even know.
The woman’s gaze follows me around, it’s kind of creepy how focused she gets while I work. I try to ignore her, just looking in her general location every now and then. After debating for some minutes I decide to come up to her, that’s what good customer service is all about after all.
“Would you like anything else? To drink of course.” I smirk and can feel myself slightly blushing. I’m not one to flirt often so my skills are quite rusty and I don’t even know if it came across as a flirtatious joke. The woman smiles softly at me, her fingers idly tapping on the bar.
“For now, mi amor, just you. But I’m always open to suggestions.” I pout, as a sarcastic joke of course. “I’m afraid I’m not on the menu, corazón. But hey! This next drink is on the house, choose whatever me want.” The woman grins, her eyes sparkling with an intention I remember quite vividly from my late life, mischief. It can’t mean anything good. “Maybe you should be. But for now… two shots of rum, please. I’ll pay for the extra one.” She raises her empty shot glass in a silent toast to me while she smiles.
I carefully pour her drink and decide to ask something that’s been lingering on my mind. “What’s your name? Every good-looking woman has one.” I feel like my face is going to fall off, I can’t believe I just said that. My mouth is running faster than my head. “My name is Valeria, my love. And you are…” She leans in closer and speaks before I can answer, her voice a seductive whisper.
“Just the type of girl I’ve been looking for.” I audibly laugh “We’ll see about that.” I wink at her, badly, I was never one to control my facial muscles very well, besides, the last time I flirted was back in High School, before life carried me away from any sort of love life and work took over everything. “Name’s Y/N. Not fitting though, you can call me yours... “ I walk away to serve other drunks before she can answer. I need time away from her to gather my racing thoughts and (presumably) high blood pressure. I walk over to Constantino, who already has a shit-eating grin on his face. “She hasn’t taken her eyes off you, miss.” I hate it when he calls me that and he knows it, he is trying to get on my nerves.
“I know, Tino, I can feel it. Now get back to work, you have a family to feed.” We always joke like that, he’s like a father to me, a father away from home. After hiring him I met his husband and their two kids. “Okay boss, but, hear me, you’ve been alone for way too long and, by the look in your eyes, she’s a commitment you’re willing to pursue.” He raises his eyebrows as he walks away to talk to customers.
When I look back at Valeria she takes her drink, sets the shot glass down and leans back on the bar. I come back and serve her the third shot of the night. “Just so you know, the shots are ninety pesos each. Call me if you need anything else.” I say and leave after giving her a last glance. That’s the least sexy thing I’ve ever said. I know the shots I sell were pricey for such a simple drink but they were quality, and Velvet was the only bar in a couple of kilometers to serve 1800’s aged tequila. “Oh, be certain I will, preciosa.” She chuckled, it was like music to my ears.
As closing time approaches everyone starts to leave so I have time to talk to Valeria, I approach her “Oh Gods, today’s been exhausting. There was this guy who was trying to flirt with me, but I couldn’t get him to understand that he wasn’t my type” I laugh at my bad joke.
Valeria chuckles softly, her eyes never leaving mine. “I can imagine. Some men can be quite persistent. Was it the older one with the red shirt?” I lightly laugh at her assumption. “Oh hell no, that’s my employee, and he’s married.” “Sorry about that… So tell me, what is my type?” She makes an emphasis on the last part, I guess she’s trying to get me to say I’m attracted to her. “That’s a pretty easy guess, isn’t it? You tell me” And it is, I’m not super picky with my women. Any of her guesses would be pretty much correct.
“I’m guessing someone strong, confident, and not afraid to take charge... and a bit rough around the edges." Her voice is low and teasing. “You’re right, but what about physically? That’s a pretty easy guess too” I smile and she smirks. “Oh... someone with dark short hair and beautiful with toned muscles and sharp features. Am I close?” Her eyes flicker down to my neck, if I didn’t know any better I would think she’s a vampire. I can tell by her tone that she is still teasing me. Two can play that game.
“Oh now you’re just describing yourself but I’d say you’re pretty damn close. This is a fun game. I’ll guess your type now.” I lean on the counter, giving Val a full view of my cleavage. I know full well that I should change my work clothes to something less Christmasy but that shirt brought more clients than the drinks I served ever would. Her eyes flicker down to my chest and back up to her face, a predatory grin spreading across her face “My type?”
“Oh yeah.” I start describing myself. All I wanted to know is if she is as attracted to me. “And you like playing hard to get, don’t you, princesa?” Her voice is a low growl and her face is twisted in a cynical smile, her fingers now trailing lightly down my arm. “Ahora dime, vida mía, why are you single? I’m guessing you are." “Tell me how you know I’m single and I’ll tell you the reason.” Her knowing I’m single is kind of creepy and my curious mind needs to know. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.
“Well, you haven’t looked at your phone since I’m here, so no one is texting you or if they are, they can wait. And there’s no tan line on your ring finger, so you’re not married.” She says it as if she had been waiting for someone to ask about it. But certainly, satisfaction brought him back.
“Wow, you’re quite observant. So, in this business it’s better if men find me attractive and think they have a chance with me, then they don’t mind the high prices.” I say with a big smile on my face. “For example, you didn’t question the price of my shots even before looking down at my cleavage, and you’re not a man.” I chuckle and walk back to lean on the wall.
She smirks. “Touché. You’re quite the tease. But remember, I’m always in control, even when it comes to my little games.” Valeria’s gaze never leaving my body. “I don’t think so… you haven’t looked away from me since you walked in. You would love it if I just got on my knees and praised me like a God, wouldn’t you?” That’s what I wanted to do, I just needed her to tell me to do it.
Her eyes flash with amusement and desire as she watches my face. “Oh preciosa, you have no idea what I’d really like to do with you. But for now, let’s focus on business.” My playful facial expression dropped to a serious one fearing what she might mean. I ran away, far enough for no one to know me, how could she? “What business are you talking about?” She smirks, her fingers tracing along the countertop “I’m interested in purchasing some of your... unique items.”
My last romantic affair took an unexpected turn during my final year of high school when my then-partner led me down the path of shady business dealings. What initially began as a seemingly harmless and exhilarating escapade soon transformed into a serious occupation after I decided to part ways with her. I used to be an exceptional artifact smuggler, no police, national or international, could ever catch me. I had stolen and sold more than three thousand different artifacts from all around the world, from emeralds to clothes and paintings, I had swiped it all in almost seven years. Roughly five years ago I stopped. Morals were threatening to catch up to me and so was the CIA, they had never been so close to finding me, so I changed almost everything about myself. I got a new hairstyle, threw away my cell phone, moved to Mexico, decided to never visit again the countries I swiped from and the most painful decision I ever took, never going back to my homeland. I formed a new life in Las Almas, bought a bar and a small house with the leftover money from my past deals and burned the rest. But now all of my efforts se fueron al carajo, she knew who I was. I walked over to her and whispered “I stopped selling contraband historical items, preciosa, find another place to buy it from.” I haven’t been this serious all night and in general, it’s quite rare for me to be. I can feel the scowl on my face. Vale’s finger traces along the counter, brushing against my hand, “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” Her voice is honey-sweet, her dark eyes burning.
“No voy a aceptar incluso si ofreces acostarte conmigo. Won’t happen, although, sí aceptaría lo segundo but no more contrabando from me. I left that world long ago” And I wasn’t lying, even before the CIA came close to me, I was planning on starting a new life with the money I had earned. “Eres astuta, aren’t ya? Hazlo por mí, one last time. I could pay me whatever you’d want”
“In this business, you need to be. I’ll close the bar and then I’ll see what I can do. Don’t worry about paying it’s all on me” I don’t know what came over me but I remembered that I had some leftover items I brought with me as a reminder of my past life, but also because I fled Spain, the country I was at at the time I heard that the C.I.A. was soon to catch me, so fast I couldn’t really decide what things to pack and what to leave behind. This was an opportunity to truly become someone new. I go over and close all the tabs, then kick out some of the leftover drunk men, the bar had closed half an hour ago after all. Constantino was long gone by now. I come back to talk to Vale but she speaks first. Chuckling softly, Valeria leans against the counter, her body language inviting yet, not completely “That’s quite the generous offer, linda. But perhaps we can strike a deal where you help me find what I’m looking for, and I’ll… well, help you.” Now she´s got my attention “Tell me about it, Vale.” I am quite curious about this deal. Her lips curl into a seductive smile, her gaze holding an unspoken promise, which I can’t really pinpoint. “I’m looking for some rather... unique items. Something that would pique the curiosity of a collector, perhaps something with a dark or mysterious history. And in exchange, I’ll give you protection and perhaps, some security for this place.” Having security for Velvet didn’t sound half bad. “I have some leftover items in my house, if you want those I’ll give them to you free of charge.”
Her eyes twinkle with interest as she considers my offer “Oh, really? Now that’s intriguing. I’d love to take a look at these leftover items, mi amor. They might just be what I’m looking for. But tell me, vida mía, what are they?” “They are a piece of the Koh-I-Noor Diamond, an original Picasso, and the Nebra Sky Disk… Just let me finish everything here and go home to bring me the things.” Valeria’s gaze flickers between me and the door, her mind clearly racing with excitement “I’d be delighted to see them, preciosa. You’re sure you don’t mind parting with them?”
“I really don’t, I’ve been trying to forget about them for a long time and didn’t know how. Is this a deal then?” I extend my hand for her to shake it, and when she does a shiver runs down my spine, I’m not sure why but ever since I saw her sitting at my bar a couple of hours earlier, I’ve needed to touch her, but not the lingering touch like the lines she’s been tracing on my arm but a whole touch, like this. Now, if this was her effect on me with only a handshake, what would happen when she touches my… Oh Gods, I stop my mind from going in that direction before I blush even more. Valeria’s gaze is intense as she grips my hand in a firm handshake. “Yes, this is a deal.” I bring Valeria’s hand to my mouth and kiss the top like the true gentlewoman my mami raised me to be, I truly miss her. “I’ll be right back” I go out the door and hop on my motorcycle to get to my residence, it’s a small house a couple of minutes away from the bar. It’s my house, not my home. My home is in another country, with my family and the last bit of my innocence. When I got there I looked for the goods and my gun, I’m not that dumb, for all I know that woman could be part of the C.I.A., and I’m not going to take that risk. I pack the items, put them on a backpack, and head back to my bar. I open the door to find the bar empty until I feel my chest hit the wall, knocking the air out of me. She was right behind me, breathing on my neck. So now, I’m not breathing properly for two reasons and I feel the wetness slit. She growled. “You left the door unlocked, anyone could’ve come in at any time. You’re lucky I was here to protect my place.” I left it unlocked because she was here, but I’m not about to say that. She backs away and I turn around. “And you’re lucky I had the backpack in my hand, if I hadn’t you would’ve broken the things.” I huff and place the backpack on the counter. “Take a look, they’re inside” I step back and place my hand inside of my pocket, taking the safety out of my gun. I’m not sure if she heard it but better safe than sorry.
Valeria opens the backpack, her eyes never leaving the items in question “They’re beautiful.” She runs her hands over the crown and disk, her fingertips tracing the intricate details “And the painting... it’s stunning.” “Son todos tuyos, I don’t want to be associated with that part of my life anymore… How did you know where to find me?” I am partly relieved that the contraband is no longer mine but on the other hand, I need to find out if I need to take Valeria out.
“Tengo a mis informantes, and I’m not with the feds, sé que eso es lo que te preocupa. Now leave the gun alone. I’m not a threat to you.” “That still doesn’t relieve me.” I say. “If I were an undercover cop, would I have flirted with you all night before even trying to buy from you? Aparte, los policías son pendejos y jamás te habrían encontrado. I’m not a cop, I’m quite the opposite, actually.” She answered while continuing to carefully pack the items again. Meanwhile, I sit at a bar stool, it’s not quite comfortable but that’s the goal, making already drunk people want to leave and sober people want to drink to forget about it, drinking. “So you are dangerous, huh?” “Of course I am.” She smiles at me, it’s charming. “I think I saw my mouth water at that.” Now she’s laughing at me.
I blush but decide to change the subject. “I never get to sit on this side of the bar, it’s quite refreshing.” Valeria glances over at me once again, having finished packing, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “It’s always refreshing to see someone enjoying themselves, mi amor.” I chuckle “Why are you calling me “mi amor”, huh?” I’m teasing her again. “I knew you were into me but not to that level.” Valeria’s smirk grows as she leans on a table. “Oh, but I am, amor mío. You’re irresistible, you know that? And the way you blush so beautifully… it’s quite captivating.” I blush even more at her words. “I don’t blush! It’s the way I did my make-up.” How can she get me so flustered with such simple words?
Laughter bubbles up from Valeria’s chest, a light and airy sound that fills the room. “Ah, you flatter yourself. It’s adorable.” I decide to look in the other direction to avoid looking into her eyes. “I’m not doing that, pesada.” “If you’re not then I will. you’re beautiful, talented, and absolutely irresistible.” I feel a surge of braveness across me and decide to flatter her too. “Well, you’re not bad off yourself. Creative, dominant, and fucking gorgeous.” Valeria’s eyes widen in surprise, her smirk growing. “Oh, you think so?” She steps closer to me. “And I forgot to mention, that gloss you’re wearing looks like it tastes fucking delightful.” I really don’t know where I got this boldness from but I’m speaking my truth.
Valeria’s smirk turns predatory. “And what makes you say that, mi amor?” She glided her fingertips along my jaw, her lips were mere inches from mine. “Out of pure curiosity, nothing else.” I smirk. Vale chuckles softly at that as she leans in even closer. “Curiosity killed the cat but it certainly doesn’t deter me.” After saying that she finally kisses me. I’ve been wating for this all night and its even better than I thought. Valeria’s hands roams up my body, one stops at my hip and the other takes my gun out of my pocket. “Wouldn’t want you to shoot me, mi vida...”
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windvexer · 1 year
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for like the fifth time I'm going to try and say my feelings on "you have to do physical support actions or your magic won't work"
if you're not familiar with this it basically means performing regular ""mundane"" actions that correspond with your magical intent. Cast a house protection spell, but also lock the doors. Cast a job spell, but also apply for jobs.
At face value it does not seem like very bad advice and in fact I do think that for many people it's decent advice, in fact I suspect it's helpful for many,
but I find an intense difference between these two statements:
"Mundane supportive actions can be a helpful technique for manifestation. It's something you might try as part of your magical experiments or for troubleshooting when your magic isn't working well,"
and,
"You must perform corresponding physical actions or your magic will not work."
And I think that most people just sort of automatically assume some version of this to be true without ever really thinking about it. And today I'd like to tug at some of this base assumption yarn and see what the cardigan looks like when we're done.
Here are some things I see said about this:
"Magic follows the path of least resistance [assumption of its own, but let's roll with it] and taking mundane supportive action reduces resistance against the spell."
Well, does it though?
Let's assume that magic takes the path of least resistance
(and gods, spirits, and entities always, universally, and unfailingly function in a way that simply takes the least amount of energy possible and never behave in unique and unpredictable ways according to their personality and whims)
and that the path of least resistance for a job spell is that the delivery person is going to hand you a package at your door and say, "hey, we're hiring, I get a bonus referral if you call this number by Friday."
Okay, so that's the path of least resistance. By, like, a huge margin. Let's say that path has 5 resistance points (low!).
And you applying for jobs online or in person has 750 resistance points (holy shit, that's quite high).
Like, right now, for whatever reason, you're just not getting hired when you submit your resume (*your "best friend" hid swear words in your job experience column as a "joke").
For this thought experiment, the spell is simply going to manifest by the delivery person handing you a referral printout.
So let me ask you this
Is going out to apply to jobs with your resume actually reducing "resistance" in a way that matters at all?
In fact, in some scenarios, is it possible that the actions you take (turning in your tainted resume) increase resistance, even though from our perspective it is supposed to be helping?
In this thought exercise, these mundane actions which are supposed to be helping are either irrelevant to the path the spell is actually going to take, or are actually increasing "resistance."
So -
Are mundane actions always necessary to compel spells to manifest?
And if they are always necessary, what is the mystical function which links unrelated and unhelpful actions to the actual manifestation of the spell?
I've never seen anyone explain that part. Because I think people would say something like
The Universe wants to see you work towards your own goals
In which case, that is the spell, I've already done that, it was me casting the spell!!!!!
(Also I'm not New Age, I do not believe in a conscious or co-creating Universe in a way that matters, and my spiritual beliefs about the Universe do not intersect with my magic)
or maybe they'd say like
Splashing around in the pond of Applying For Jobs somehow causes ripples in the Jobs pond that makes it easier for the spell to manifest,
like apparently there's some sort of surface tension that we need to break in order to allow the spell to manifest at all.
And to be perfectly honest,
yeah.
I believe in that one.
I believe it helps!!
It's the equivalent of a cartoon where a big cloud of dust kicks up and then something important is swapped out behind the scenes but we don't really know how it happened.
But!
I don't believe it helps all of the time!
I don't believe it is necessary all of the time!
When facing a very stagnant or resistant situation, I personally find that a valid magical technique is splashing about in the pond and getting the silt stirred up and then bippity boppity, the change happened!
This of course implies that such actions may be unnecessary and even very unhelpful when:
Situations are rapidly changing and fast-paced
Situations are very delicate and it was already never safe for you to take the only available mundane options
...you didn't need to do so, because the spell was going to manifest just fine anyway
The splashing is actually getting directly in the way of causing manifestation
Let's revisit that job spell where your ""friend"" fucked with your resume.
Now let's say that your job spell has specific requirements.
Let's say that you must have a work from home position in your niche field.
The only way to get these jobs (besides in-person networking, which you can't do because you are disabled) is to apply online.
And in this field you do not fill out little job apps. You always send in your resume.
Every single time you send in your resume, you are unknowingly sending a tampered resume that uses extremely inappropriate language.
Because you have been told you must take mundane supportive action or your spell will not manifest, you actively seek out employers and send them your resume. They never reply.
Once you send in your resume, even employers who were talking to you stopped contact.
Someone on Twitter reaches out to you! Unexpected! Great lead! You send in your resume (you must perform physical supportive actions or your spell will not manifest) and...
They block you.
"Now hold on," perhaps you are saying, "this is such a specific situation. And not very reasonable, either. A majority of people will be able to perform physical supportive actions that are actually helpful."
In which I return to point #1, where if the only way the spell was going to manifest was via the delivery driver, how do you know any specific action you are taking is actually helpful?
And waving back to point #2, which is, it is reasonable, actually, for people to be doing everything appropriate and reasonable to support their spellwork, but unknownst to them there is some hidden problem that is causing mundane actions to fuck up manifestation,
whether or not it is a simple and obvious problem like a fucky resume, or whether it is a very obscure and esoteric problem,
But then also let's roll right into point #3, which is,
I just don't believe that a majority of practitioners, even very good practitioners, are so adept at spellwork that they know exactly the "path of resistance" their spells are going to take,
because for some reason when people say "path of least resistance" apparently they're envisioning like 2 or 3 huge macro channels we can get in there and dig out with shovels,
and not ten thousand cracks the size of spider legs smashed into the mirror of reality,
each one almost as equally likely as one another,
running into each other like colors in a liquid prism,
many of which may not respond at all to our clumsy actions,
may be specifically resistant to our actions,
or operate on planes of existence so Other that it is a miracle the intersect with physical reality at all, and yet are as alike as any crack to shunt our manifestations to our feet.
"Magic follows the path of least resistance" is a delightful nod at Newtonian physics, and doesn't actually imply that, like, these paths are things we can necessarily interact with in a way that matters,
are large enough that we can adeptly manipulate them with our mountainous, clunky bodies,
are channels we recognize or personally believe in,
or even exist within our realm of comprehension.
The "path of least resistance" could be nine hundred thoughts flitting through a series of retail worker's minds, one secret shopper not being able to find the right brand of salsa, a dropped cigarette, and an exasperated manager finally turning to Annoying Chad and saying, "you said you can get your friend to work here, right?"
well, anyway.
Thoughts like these are why I question this magical "law" as being a law in the first place, and why some of the stuff we take for granted in manifestation not really mattering at all, sometimes.
I just believe that magic is supposed to work.
I do think that very often, and for mysterious reasons of mystery, mundane support actions can help. (splashing in the pond, &etc)
I think that if you are personally having trouble manifesting, or if you are new to magic and you're not sure what to try first,
experimenting with mundane support actions is just dandy.
I think that if you're more experienced in magic and looking to try something new, experimenting with magical support actions is a nifty way to flesh out your personal praxis.
But I think that unless you are specifically working with a magical tradition that requires mundane support actions,
then this is not an actual rule or law at all. It's just a technique, and like any other can help, harm, or do nothing at all.
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teardew · 2 months
Text
-
im thinking about making a patreon because i .. uh .. i cant justify drawing for myself anymore and its killing me lmao
it takes me really long to draw so any time i hav should be spent on comms... iv been trying to fight off burnout by drawing things i like inbetween commissions like that sv anatomy practice and vampire/werewolf mngling was just for me but it still ended up setting me behind schedule because i had to rest my eyes and wrist afterward. but not only that i also wanna like. make a lot more things ...
like i wanna do animal, insect, architectural, jewelry studies and fashion and character design explorations and try designing icon packs and branch out trying embroidery with mixed media and clothes making and get into making like 3d things with clay and soft sculptures. i wanna make historical fashion coloring books with việt phục and fashion zines ...
also theres a lot of stuff i dont post bc im not sure if anyone would be interested in all the design concepts and notes i had for example the homestuck dreamer outfits or the various sha hualing designs and sketches i had before getting to the thing i posted? like i hav a bunch of different sqh outfit and hair designs but theyr more clothing based and not detailed character/face art ...
idk !! it sounds like an excuse. its like, who cares just post it ! i know i shouldnt value my art by the amount of numbers i get from posting on social media and i dont mostly but its kinda unavoidable ? to me ? i know i only post fanart and ppl follow me for that and its not a bad thing ! being realistic i just dont think anybody but me would be interested in it ??
i dont know. god. i dont know what this post is about. ''i dont think anybody would be interested in the things i really wanna make'' but im thinking about making a patreon for things i really wanna make anyway because thats the only way i can justify it is if i can profit off it in some way. i dont really want to, but with my financial circumstances i dont know. i never wanted to make my livelihood off my art. i dont even consider or call myself an ''artist'' really, i just want to MAKE art
i dont know why i still cant find a steady job after 5 months applying to everything and its making me miserable. its embarassing, they say to be persistent with jobs but calling and even walking in to check on applications and watching employers awkwardly try to turn me away without just flat out telling me no even though none of them hire me is an exercise in public humiliation. how bad do you want a job? bad enough to make a fool of myself with nothing to show for it. and i want to make art for myself to cope but it takes too much time and time is money
maybe this post is about my art anxiety under capitalism. i dont know
i think im safe enough now to admit my friends gofundme i was posting about months ago about helping their friend escape their abusive household was actually my gofundme because i was worried about them finding out and preventing me from leaving or internet stalking me afterwards. i did hav a scare when i got a phone call i thought was from my brother but ended up being a police officer, whos my mother's friend ...
but anyways. me admitting this is just to give context that. i ran hundreds of miles away from financial security and everything i ever knew and im still struggling to find steady income nearly half a year later. i just dont understand what im doing wrong. is it my name? is it because im not from here? iv been working continuously ever since i could legally my resume isnt BAD. am i just stupid? should i have just tried to make peace with my lot in life?
i thought getting away from my family would let me be in a better place to create more art, thats one of the things i was so excited about but this feels just as stressful as when i was the only earner supporting my family during covid. i just want a stable job so i can make art. i dont want making art to be my Job. i dont want to be a ''starving artist'' begging for people to care about my art i just want to make art. but fuck i dont know how to sustain any of this
sorry for this mess. insurance is different out here and i havnt been able to find a psych either so its not like i can talk about this in therapy instead of venting on my art blog. all my life i wanted to make things without the fear of it all being destroyed. the main reason i havnt branched out from illustrations is because its entirety can be saved digitally even if its physically ruined. my sketchbooks were thrown away or ripped apart by my family either from carelessness or anger to hurt me but now that im finally enough safe to have them again or make something i can hold in my hands without the fear that someone will come in break it and make me clean up its corpse i cant afford it
i dont know what to do. is it worth it? is making art worth it? i mean. its worth the rent this month. and i still love drawing god this is probably bad for business because i dont want people to feel bad for commissioning me or anything but not to be dramatic why does it feel like im fucking dying
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fuck-customers · 1 year
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Just a curious question for mods (Rodney) and followers: At your retail job (current or past) what does being a store lead entail? What responsibilities/privileges come with it + what are the upsides and downsides?
My boss recently pushed the idea of being a lead on me and essentially said "someone is leaving, so a lead position will be available, you should do it, you've been here long enough" I haven't officially been offered the position, but she essentially said she wants me to do it.
Which....yes, I have, but the reason I'm not a lead is because a lead has almost all of the responsibilities of a store manager, with the exception of hiring new employees and doing payroll, for about 1/3 of the pay.
Plus, even though a lead position is a management position, it's not full-time.
Essentially, if I agreed to be a lead, I would gain about $2 more an hour, yet still be part-time (so, no benefits) and my hours would POSSIBLY increase from 4-12 hours a week, to maybe 20+. (But not necessarily, because there is a current lead who has 8 hours for this entire week)
Regardless, if I am officially offered the position, I will probably take it anyway, because I need something more for my resume and I think that'll look good. And I'm hoping to move soon, so I won't have to do it for long.
The responsibilities of a lead at my store (to my knowledge) are:
-open/close the store (physically open the door with the key, set/disable the alarm, open/close registers + count the cash, do the sales report at the end of the night) + now we have to clean the bathrooms every night (with no proper ppe, but that is another tale)
-cover employee breaks (this is the easiest and least objectionable one)
-are in charge of getting coverage if an employee calls out/doesn't show up (ask on the clock employees to stay late, call off-clock employees to come in)
-are actually usually the one that has to cover shifts (now I can't just ignore my boss's texts, rip)
-deal with any Karens/unruly customers/get yelled at by customers, essentially any time anyone "needs to speak to your manager" you gotta go over there
-deal with/solve any employee disputes/problems that don't have to do with payroll
-do whatever daily tasks the SM assigns on a list for you to do, usually includes things like putting up/taking down sale signs, cleaning certain aisles, doing inventory tasks, exception counts, etc.. I've seen various daily tasks lists...they're usually 2+ pages long.
I'm sure there's other responsibilities I'm forgetting/am unaware of, but this is all I can think of right now. It seems like a lot for just $2 more an hour, not even full-time tbh.
BONUS QUESTIONS:
-At your current/former jobs, what responsibilities did leads have? More or less than what I listed?
-Any advice? I have a few things in mind that I plan to do, such as always standing by my coworkers and taking their side over the customer. (Unless the employee is 100% in the wrong, but even then, I plan on phrasing it like "I think my coworker here was a little bit confused on the policy, but they tried their best, this is the way it's supposed to be, but it was not my coworker's fault" basically I won't throw anyone under the bus) I also plan on not completely kissing customer ass. If you're a customer and you're being rude and disrespectful to my employee, you will not still get your discount or whatever you wanted. I am not bending over backwards for disrespectful Karens. And I plan on regularly consulting with my coworkers for any suggestions on how I could improve/make things easier for them. Any other suggestions?
I have never worked anywhere that had a "Team Lead" position. So I can't say with experience.
My daughter works at the bread bowl place and when they made her a team lead all they told her was that she needed to train new people and know policies and procedures 100% and they were suppose to give her a $2 raise. But her and a friend started at the same time, made team lead at the same time, but he got the $2 and she got $1.50 and had to fight for almost a year for the .50.
Since her getting the title she has not trained the new people (the new hires have) and she is treated like a normal part timer. She has also said most of the people working are team leads.
-Rodney
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twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year
Text
Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)
A/N: If you think this is ooc for our special guest maybe but it’s not even a big deal he would love it either way. Also @siriuslysirius1107​ if you see this make sure you read the prior chapter before you start this one -Danny
Words: 2,123
Phase Six Masterlist
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
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xxv: Copycat & Nightcrawler
The mutants stepped into the dimly lit bar with Kurt using his nano mask to look human, Cat's eyes were brown as well as her hair. M.O.U.S.E. was hidden in her ear and the paw-shaped pin was placed above her breast, ready to be used.
"So who are we looking for?"
"Bob."
"Who's that?"
"You don't need to know," Cat sat down and Kurt followed her example.
"I didn't think I'd be doing this with you again," he smiled. "I'd missed it."
"What? Visiting bars together?"
"The missions. Our paths drifted apart, I thought this would never happen again."
"I always knew we'd do this again," she confessed. "I didn't know if it'd be an 'us-against-them' or 'us-helping-out-the-good-guys' kind of situation, though."
"And which one is it?"
"None, we're settling scores here," she sniffed at a drink that had been left beside her. "And this is definitely urine."
"I wouldn't say that when the bartender is five feet away, he'll take a dump on yours and call it olives," spoke a man behind her.
Cat smiled. "You're late, Bob."
The young woman looked at Kurt and nodded at the man beside her. "Bob was a Hydra agent, he gets stuff for Rocket when he comes to visit."
"Do you have what we need?" Kurt inquired.
"Do you have the dough?"
She raised a brow. "If you're so eager to get it, I'll stuff it up your ass so you don't lose it."
The man groaned. "Fine, the dough can wait."
"Start talking, then."
"Well, Jigsaw's getting close to the top."
"How?"
"Mainly thanks to you," he shrugged, "you sent all of his opponents back to jail: The powerbroker, Kingpin... those who are left are no challenge. He's got the money and the brute force."
"Kraven?"
"You," he smirked. "Says you haven't gone around killing because he's got you locked in a cage."
"He's not wrong," she said through gritted teeth. "What's his point, that he'll let me out on a murderous spree if they don't do what he says?"
"That he'll send Kraven to get them, and he'll lock them up in your cage so you can finish the job."
"Wait, but Cat wasn't out in the field for long, and when she was a Gorgon no one knew she was Copycat—"
"These people knew about me way before I was an Avenger, Smurf," she explained, "you didn't know cause you were in space, but when I came back I spent half a year hunting down mobsters in New York, treated it like a fun hobby."
Kurt's face was a mix of emotions. He whispered angrily. "Why would you do that?"
Cat shrugged. "I was sad."
He groaned. "Dumbass."
"The point is that they learned to fear me, and when I became an Avenger they got real quiet, and then I disappeared. Kingpin and Russo came back..."
"And then you and Hawkeye put Kingpin in a cell, and Russo hired Kraven to get you."
"And the fact that he's got a personal vendetta towards Agent Zero didn't help my case," she sighed. "He was fortunate, his biggest obstacles ended up being just one."
"So everyone thinks he's got Mimi," Kurt resumed, "and no one will touch him thanks to that. If he becomes the new powerbroker..."
"This world won't be safe for us," Cat finished. "Mutants will be hunted and forced to work for Russo. He saw how efficient we are, and he's not willing to give that up."
"Let's find him before that happens," Kurt looked at Bob. "Any ideas?"
"I don't know where he is," Bob said. "But I know where his boys are."
Every man and woman in the establishment got up and looked at them.
Cat tensed. "Fantastic."
"So much for going undercover," Kurt reached for his blaster.
"Wait," Cat grabbed his wrist.
"What?"
"No guns," she said.
"Are you out of your mind?" He whispered angrily.
"Let's use our natural skill, or it'll get rusty," she winked at him, then raised her voice. "Alright, which one of you is gonna give us the bad-boy speech?"
A redheaded woman stepped forward. "We have orders to take you... dead or alive."
"That's funny," Cat replied. "I have orders to skin you alive— do you want me to do that while you're conscious or after you stop breathing?"
"Get them!"
Kurt teleported to a different side of the room while Cat used Wanda's powers to seize the guys in front of her and hurled them back, tackling half a dozen others in the process. She pressed the paw above her breast and the suit covered her body.
"Bob, you fucking idiot!" Cat ran after him before he could take cover, she caught him by the throat and slammed him against the bar. "Rocket's gonna be so angry when he finds out I killed you!"
Someone jumped at her back and pulled her away from the man. Cat pressed her earpiece to turn on her visor.
"Mouse, call our backup!"
"Activating Merc protocol."
"I really didn't want to do this!" She used her spear to hit a man on the back of the head.
At the other side of the bar, Kurt was teleporting in and out of sight, taking down people in the process. "You called the backup?"
"It's coming!" Cat kicked a person out of her way and caught Bob a second time by the back of his jacket, she sank her claws in the fabric and threw him behind the bar. "Stay down or I swear to god I'll cut your dick off!"
Someone grabbed her by the hair, dragging her across the bar's surface. She was thrown harshly, and a huge man stood before her, all covered in scars.
"Hi tiny," she coughed.
Kurt crashed against the shelves, and multiple bottles fell over him.
"They're enhanced!" He warned her.
Nightcrawler teleported away before a woman could set him on fire. The shelves caught up in flames at an alarming speed. Cat teleported away before the giant could stomp her with his foot.
"I'm not gonna waste my energy on this," she muttered to herself, grabbing someone by the back of the head and teleporting them to the bathroom. She walked out of it pushing her curls out of the way.
Kurt shot someone in the back. "I wouldn't hate it if you stab at some of them at least once!"
Cat saw the giant man pointing his gun at Kurt's head, she opened her mouth to warn him but a large blade went right through the man's chest before she could even speak. The giant dropped his weapon and blood spluttered out of his mouth.
"Took you long enough!" She scowled at the figure behind the man.
The katana was drawn out as the body fell, Deadpool stepped over the body. "I was buying a smoothie." The mercenary had a pink drink in his hand, with signs of being recently made, and he was sipping at it casually while watching the mutants fight for their lives.
"Don't stand there, start killing!" Cat urged him.
"I thought you didn't want to kill!" Kurt broke a bottle on someone's head.
"I won't, he will!" She claimed.
Deadpool swung his katana and cut someone's arm before they could shoot him. His arrival had caused panic, several people were shooting at him but he walked through it slaying whoever he pleased.
Cat split her spear in two and turned off the blades. "We need one alive so they tell us where to find Russo!"
"Got it!" Kurt knocked someone out and left them on top of a pile of bodies.
"The puzzle boy? I know where he is," Deadpool threw his katana sideways and impaled someone against a wall.
Kurt and Cat looked at him. "What?"
"He's uptown," he finished his smoothie and slammed the empty cup on someone's face. It was glass.
"Why didn't you say so!" She demanded.
Deadpool sounded annoyed. "You never said that's what you wanted. Communication is key, Hello Kitty, and if you don't—"
Cat teleported to his side and took the katana that was still strapped to his back, shoving it onto the hand that'd previously been holding his smoothie. "Take us to Russo."
Deadpool pushed his mask down to cover his mouth, he went to retrieve his other katana from the wall and unstuck it from the dead man. Cat seized one of the last few guys standing that were trying to kill her and pushed him sideways, Wade slashed his throat in turn.
"You're paying extra for that?"
"Take Bob's money," she pointed over to the bar.
"Bob from Hydra?" Deadpool approached the spot. "Bob! What are you doing covered in tequila? Thought you'd quit, buddy!"
Kurt slammed a chair on top of someone, Cat teleported and tased the person he'd been fighting with her baton. The stranger fell, and they were free to go. Cat approached Bob and Deadpool, he'd jumped over the bar.
She stared at the mercenary for a moment. "When I said 'take Bob's money', I meant the pay I was going to give him, not his wallet."
"Should've said so sooner, I already took it," Deadpool threw the leather item away. "It's so nice to see you again, babe. Though I like you better in blue."
"I'll turn into Smurfette if you take us to the jigsaw," she offered, the usual playfulness in her voice was nowhere to be found.
He put an arm around her shoulders and walked her out of the establishment. "You coming, Kurt?"
The young man put his blaster away. "As long as you don't touch me... you smell weird."
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"So what's the plan now?"
"We kill Russo," the two men looked at her and she shrugged. "He knows we're here, what's the point?"
"That is so dumb I'm going to ignore it, here's the new plan," Deadpool handed her a gun, which she dropped back inside his bag. "I clear out the way for you, you have a nice chit-chat with your ex—"
"How do you know I dated him?"
"Knockoff, you and I share many traits, and I'm not even talking about the trauma," he hung his bag on one shoulder and walked past her.
"You're saying you dated him too?" Cat made a face. "I was hoping you had better taste."
"What? No, that guy sucks," Wade scoffed. "But we are willing to sleep with anyone if we're lonely enough, it wasn't hard to guess, sweetheart."
"Oh, don't pretend you have to be lonely in order to sleep with anyone," she taunted him.
"Sorry," Kurt spoke up. "It's not like I wish to interrupt your disgusting exchange, but what do you mean Cat and you share traits?"
"That is a great question and so convenient to connect the plots!" Wade replied. "I'm one of Dr. Killebrew's freaks."
Kurt frowned. "Which lab were you in?"
"Canada," he answered casually. "You guys blew it up while I was there."
"What's your name again?"
"Deadpool," the man offered to shake Kurt's hand, but his glove had old bloodstains in it and Kurt stared at it with disgust. "I'm the sole reason why this part of the story even exists. Someone really wanted me to show up, and I'd hate to disappoint my fans."
"I... what?" Kurt glanced at her.
"He spits nonsense from time to time but is nothing to worry about," she dismissed it. "Wade, if you can clear out the path for us, I'll let you do it, but you have to make sure it won't alert Russo before we get to him."
"Sure," he said, eyes glued to his phone. Cat could've sworn he wasn't texting a second ago.
"What the hell..." she approached to snatch the phone out of his hand, glimpsing at the screen. "Are you texting Russo?!"
"Hey, no snooping!" He kept her away at arm's length, he was considerably bigger than her, so it wasn't that hard. "It's all part of the plan, Kitty."
"You're selling us to Billy!"
"What?" Kurt reached for his blaster.
"Calm down," Deadpool finished the text and sent it. "He pays well, and for you, he will double it. I'm just working smarter, not harder, kiddos."
"Is money all you think about?" She huffed.
He snorted. "Is there anything  better?"
She paused. "You got me."
Deadpool laughed shortly. "No, you get me, that's why we're such good friends. Besties. Baes, Bias, Comfort characters—"
"Oh my god, just sell us to Russo already," Kurt groaned.
"Is it really all part of a plan?" Cat asked him.
"Do you really think I would sell you out for real only to get a hundred big ones?" He placed a hand over his chest. "You and I have a past! That's at least three million."
"I don't know if it's because you're insane, but I really believe you're not lying," she looked at Kurt. "Worst case scenario we kill two people instead of one, huh?"
"You can't kill me, though."
"No but I can embarrass you," Deadpool tilted his head, and she took it back. "Yeah no, I can't do that either. Man, you're even worse than I am."
Kurt's shoulders fell. "You really don't believe him, right? He's Deadpool."
She shrugged. "Nothing beats the element of surprise, right? Improvising used to be our thing."
"When we were teenagers!" He exclaimed.
"Wade's basically a giant toddler," Cat turned to the mercenary. "Okay, Pool. Do your thing."
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Next Chapter—>
Taglist.
@mikaelsonwhxrebae​​​​ @ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @greengarsstuff​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @itsyagirl01 @23victoria​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @espressopatronum454​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jkthinkstoomuch
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beardedmrbean · 9 months
Note
Hi, it's Dream Anon ! It's been a while, more than a year I think ? But a lot has happened dream-wise.
After the last couple of asks I sent, where I dreamt about being "hired" to be an NPC in other people's dreams, I kept having those "dream filming" moments about every night. No fanfare, not even a discussion with that greek/norse "dream goddess".
Then, around two weeks later, I discovered I had a carbon monoxide leak in my house. You'd think that would be the end of it, weird dream happenings end up being from a CO leak, you fix it and it's gone... except that after a month of having no dreams at all, it started happening again.
That time, I was directly in the white void again, and the dream goddess said something along the lines of "Your presence cannot be delayed any longer" (in my native language). Then it was like a cutscene or autoscroll from a video game, I followed her through what looked like a corridor with many different "scenes" around us, I distinctly remember seeing one of a sort of mountainous plateau, going "Oh, that looks like a Ghibli background", and the scrolling stopping for a moment before resuming. After some time (felt like forever), we ended up in a study, she took a seat, and I did too. She said "the fish closes the laser", and without thinking I answered "Just a different way of dodging". She sighed again and said "Dodging is temporary, the fish or the laser will end. I liked the cake, though.", then I woke up.
While I still don't understand what the hell is up with the fish and the laser, I remember very distinctly the dream it's from, where my school cafeteria gave me cake with a bite taken out of it, and it makes things even weirder. Did this dream goddess take a bite out of my slice of cake in a dream years ago ? Does that mean anything ??
And that's not even the worse part ! I went to sleep pretty late on Friday night, and after waking up to the sunrise (something that usually doesn't happen as I'm not a morning person) and with a killer headache, my computer showed Sunday. To this day I'm not sure whether I really slept for 28 hours, or I lost all memory of my Saturday. I had no plans for that day, so no one could confirm what happened, and my internet history for that day was completely empty, but that's not completely unheard of since there are days where I don't boot up my computer at all.
This time I got worried I might actually have a tumor (it's not everyday you hear a supposed deity in your dreams say that something will end, and then discover you slept for a whole day straight) so I went to the doctor and explained everything, and the doc said something along the lines of "Don't care about the dreams, but we definitely have to check that hypersomnia out". I got the whole shebang done, ended up with a folder full of pictures of my brain, and... nothing unusual. I did learn I have a relatively large hippocampus compared to the average person, though.
Nothing major happened for months after that, every few days I'd get another dream acting as an NPC, sometimes I'd meet the dream goddess (which I've taken to calling "boss") and forget absolutely everything from those conversations. The white silhouette with antlers/lightning crown of thorns never got any more detailed, by the way.
Nothing wild has happened in real life so far either, sometimes when I see a silhouette in a bright light it makes me think about the dream goddess, but that's about it. No hallucinations yet !
Today I woke up thinking about documentation, and immediately remembered that I used to send you asks about those dreams. I stopped because my life got pretty chaotic while I was getting that CO leak fixed, and after that tumblr fell out of my recent websites and I completely forgot about it. I did keep a record, though, that's what I'm using to write this.
Anyway, glad I remembered, and especially glad I could clear up that radio silence after my last ask. Re-reading it, it kinda looked like I died after sending it.
Decided to have a look and see when the last one came in and I had to cheat to get the tag to show.
Dream anon tag
Hello, it's dream anon, here's an update : The same method I used earlier worked, although I feel like I'm becoming better at noticing the dream goddess during NPC time so maybe in a few days I won't even need it. Touching my nose every minute of every waking hour is a bit tiring, and I feel like I'm gonna develop OCD if I keep this up too long.
April 28, 2022 it's been way too long.
Glad you're good, you pop into my head on occasion and I do wonder.
Got a few people over the years that drop in for a random ask here and there, they all pop in occasionally.
Had to stop when I hit the CO leak that was spooky, I'm glad there's no permanent damage from that, and you've got a big hippo camp too, that's fun.
I'm very glad to hear you're well though, that is very good news.
And if you're up for a bit of dream fun,
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You want the Blue Stilton, that's the one that does it. 20 grams which is .706 ounces, so not much.
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abeautifulblog · 2 years
Text
here, have the opening scene of the aforementioned original-fiction monster-hunter-with-selective-mutism story:
*
It wasn't reassuring when Jack pulled out his phone to call his psychic, and found that she'd texted him forty minutes ago with a message that read, apropos of nothing, Think twice before accepting this one.
That bad? he sent back.
She must have had her phone in her hand, because not ten seconds later it came back with her reply: Or that good! :) Followed almost immediately with, Call me.
Just tell me whether I should take the job.
There was a longer pause before the phone buzzed again. I'm not a charity, Jack. Call me.
He stared at the screen for a long moment, then gave in and called her number. The phone gave a ring that cut off with a hiccup, then an automated voice cut in with the usual spiel, Completing this call may incur additional charges. If you would like to—
Yes, he would like to continue. Yes, he'll press one.
It resumed ringing, and a few seconds later Fischer picked up.
“Howdy, Jack,” she said—too jauntily, given that she knew he was only calling under duress.
There was a beat, the space in which he should have replied, and the dead air on the phone sounded pointed. He sighed, and took the phone away from his ear so he could put the call on speaker and swipe out a message.
Hi, he texted. A few moments later a chime filtered through the earpiece as her phone received it.
“Oh, so that's how it's going to be?” she asked.
I called. Do I take the job or not?
“And what if I said I won't tell you anything unless you talk to me?”
I'll hang up and flip a coin. I'm not in the mood.
“Alright, alright,” she said, placating, as if he were the one bullying her and not the other way around. “Though flipping a coin might be as good a way as any to make this decision.”
Wow, I sure am glad I decided to pay for your opinion first.
Fischer laughed. “Goddamn, friend, you're in a bitchy mood today, aren't you?”
For good reason, but he wasn't up to explaining the whole saga via text.
I ain't paying three bucks a minute to listen to you laugh at me.
I could call my momma and get that for free.
Tell me something specific or I'm hanging up.
Fischer stopped laughing, mercifully, and cleared her throat. “Regarding your employment in the immediate future: unforeseen complications,” she announced, like she was reading it off a weather forecast. “This job you're thinking of taking on—I can tell you it’s going to get messy, and it's either going to turn out real good, or real, real bad.”
How bad is real bad? he asked.
“That you're not coming back from it.”
Yeah, that was about as bad as they came.
And how good is real good?
“The Magician. Nothing less, nothing in between.”
Creation and inspiration. The manifestation of one's desires. Infinite possibility. Although he had to say, it was slightly worrying that whatever she'd sensed in the currents had led her to do a reading forty minutes before he'd even heard the job offer.
“What's the job?” she asked when he was silent.
He sighed, then laboriously tapped out: Some couple got their kid stolen by the fae. It was their own damn fault, but they want to hire me to get him back. I'd say no, but with Midwinter coming up there's no better time to try.
“You'd say no anyway. Why are you even considering it?”
Yeah, she knew him too well.
Because they're offering me twenty five grand for it.
She hummed thoughtfully “Well. I can tell you that whatever your Magician is, it isn't money.”
So does that mean I get 25k AND all my desires made manifest?
“Could be, assuming you don't die.”
Okay. So how do I not fuck it up?
She hesitated. “I’m sorry, Jack, but I don't think it's up to you. The tipping point—the decision that's going to determine whether you succeed or fail—it's someone else’s choice, not yours.”
Well, christ, wasn't that just what he wanted to hear. Jack scrunched up his face and scrubbed a hand over tired eyes. The call log kicked up another minute.
What would you do? he asked at last.
“Oh, I love it when people ask me for advice they're not going to take. I, personally, wouldn't do it, because I'm risk-averse and would rather run a psychic hotline than get into half the trouble you do. You, on the other hand, are a crazy motherfucker whose idea of a good time is jumping out of perfectly functional airplanes.”
He could correct her, but it wasn't worth it.
Alright, then what would you tell ME to do?
“Go for it. I'm curious to see what your Magician is.”
He snorted. And if I don't roll sevens?
“I'll send your momma flowers.”
Pretty sure she'd rather have gin, he shot back, and then hung up before the call could rack up another three bucks.
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steves-on-a-plane · 3 years
Text
No Place Like Home (Part One)
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Words: 1405 Pairing: Ted Lasso x Reader Summary: Reader has worked at the University's Athletics Department for nearly a decade. Which is why she's so shocked when Head football Coach, Ted Lasso, asks her to leave everything in the states behind and following him to his new career across the pond.
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“Hey [Y/N] you got a second?” Your boss and the Head Coach of the University Football team, Ted Lasso, poked his head into your office.
“Coach, as I’ve been reminded several times by Charles you are my boss and not the other way around. Meaning you can come and go from the office whenever you want.” That was true, being an athletic assistant meant that sometimes you had to give the coaches gentle reminders about their schedules. Coach Lasso required extra handling. He had a wistful tendency to get carried away. The Head of the university’s Athletics Department, Charles, was very old school and thought assistants should be seen and not heard. He’d chastise you anytime he caught wind of you providing even the slightest feedback to any Coach, but especially Ted.
“You know, I’ve come to accept that me an’ Charlie ain’t never gonna see eye to eye on that one.” Coach Lasso shook his head. “Consent is important. And if it’s alright with you, I’mma close this door for now. There’s something I want to discuss with you that I’d rather other folks not overhear.” You couldn’t stop your heart from racing as you watched Coach Lasso shut the door.
You were about to complete your eighth year working at the University’s Athletics Department. You’d started in the laundry room as a Freshman because your older sister, Anna, had told you it was an easy work study job. As it turned out, it was easy for Anna because she played three division one sports at the school and practically lived in the athletics building. For you, someone with no interest in sports, it was an uphill battle. Still, failure wasn’t something you were accustomed too, so you rose quickly through the various work study ranks. By your senior year you were the Senior Administrator of the Athletics Department. It was a very fancy way of saying you were responsible for getting the coaches what they wanted before they even knew they wanted it. When you graduated, the school asked you to stay on in a permanent capacity. You were too deep in student debt and short on reasons to say no when they offered you full time and benefits.
“You alright? You look mighty nervous. I can open this again if…” Coach Lasso started towards the door again.
“No, No, it’s fine.” You assured him. He nodded and sat down across from you.
Ted Lasso has arrived at the university about two years ago. He’d been hired following a successful run at Kansas State with an impressive resume and reputation. He’d only been working at your school for about a month before you were absolutely smitten with him. Over time you learned that wasn’t much of a surprise either, everyone loved Ted. He made it nearly impossible not to.
He had a way of putting people at ease without even knowing he was doing it. From his very first day, he had made it clear he wasn’t going to be like most other coaches you’d worked with over the years. He encouraged his players to be vulnerable to see past the stereotypes of athletes. He wanted everyone to feel like they were part of the team, that included.
By now, you were no stranger to having the Head Football Coach barge into your office politely demanding you opinion on this or that. Though typically he was accompanied by his right-hand man and first Assistant Coach, Beard. It was setting off alarm bells in your brain and other parts of your body that Ted was in your office by his lonesome. You forced yourself not to get too excited. Perhaps he just wanted to discuss a surprise for Beard or one of the players. He was always doing things like that.
“First thing’s first, I whipped up a batch of double chocolate chip cookies for the team last night, made sure to save a few for ya.” He place a small paper box filled with six of his famous double chocolate chip cookie inside on your desk. “Look, I’m gonna try here to not take up a lot of your time, I know you’re a busy gal, but I also want to share some news with you. You’ll be the first to know besides Coach Beard and Michelle and Henry.” He ticked each of them off with his fingers. Ted glanced back at the door ensuring it was closed tightly. “I’ve been offered a contract to coach a professional football team.”
“That’s amazing news!” You exclaimed already feeling a hole beginning to form in your heart. “Which team? The Chiefs? The Raiders? The Patriots?”
“While I do appreciate the vote of confidence, I think Mr. Bill Belichick is doing a much better job with the Pats than I ever could. No, I should have explained myself a little better. It’s European football not, ah, American.” He clarified.
“Have you ever coached soccer?” You attempted to ask politely.
“No, No I have not.” He shook his head, but his semi-permanent smiled remained in place. “But I do remember you telling me once upon a time that before taking this job you knew nothing about sports at all and here you are the best dang assistant in the whole state of Kansas.”
“Coach, I mean this with all of my heart that I wish the best for you, and I will truly miss you.” You opened up the laptop on your desk and began looking at the team calendar. “So are we meeting in secret to prepare your going away party? I suppose I’ll have look into scheduling you time to get a passport…”
“Slow your roll, Dave Grohl.” He reached over and eased your laptop closed. You looked up giving Ted your full attention. “I haven’t accepted the offer yet. Got a few counter offers of my own I want to make. Beard’s got to come along as my assistant coach, I think that’s obvious. But working in the big leagues I think it’s about high time I had a personal assistant. What do you say?”
“I’m not sure I’m qualified to find you a personal assistant, Coach. I wouldn’t know where to start.” You confessed. You knew objecting was pointless. Ted had a way of believing in people so hard that they started to believe in themselves. He’d get his way no matter what, especially from you.
“Well, lucky for you I’ve already found one.” You watched Coach Lasso fish around in his pockets before handing you a folded-up scrap of paper. He gestured for you to open it. On the inside of the note was only a number, a very large number, just a little over what you make in a year. He watched you study the note with a confused expression on your face. “Now that’s just what the club said they could afford to pay so I’d like to offer you another ten Gs from my own salary.”
“Ten grand? You…You want me to be your personal assistant?” You blinked up at him in disbelief.
“I very much do, yes.” Ted’s smiled wavered for a moment. It had not occurred to him before that moment to plan for any scenario in which you said no.
“I’ll need some time to think about it.” Even as you told him that, your mind was racing trying to figure out how you could make it work. Your sister lived in Colorado now and your parents had moved back to Connecticut where they were both from originally. You barely saw each other as it was, moving across the pond wouldn’t change that.
“Of course.” Ted nodded getting to his feet. His very serious expression made you feel anxious. You didn’t like the idea that you may have disappointed him. “They need an answer from me by two AM our time. If you could get me an answer any time before that, I’d mighty appreciate it.” He’d started towards the door but stopped himself midway. He turned on his heels and added “I forgot to mention they’re covering all our moving fees too, so you don’t have to worry about any of that. Anyway, talk to you soon, [Y/N].”
“Talk to you soon, Coach.” You promised. As Ted stepped out of the room you reached for one of the cookies that you knew would be impossibly gooey and sweet. Just like the man who’d made them.
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nev3rfound · 3 years
Text
someone i once knew : b.b
bucky is left alone in the compound whilst the rest of the avengers are sent on a mission. yet, to bucky’s surprise he isn’t alone as he’s about to meet tony’s new assistant and someone from his past. (3.4k)
(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)
masterlist / permanent taglist
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)
PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX
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“You sure you’ll manage on your own?” Steve asks as he walks alongside Bucky.
Bucky quirks a brow at his oldest friend. “What, you don’t trust me?” He quips back, hearing Sam let out a dry laugh from the quinjet as he helps load the last of the supplies. “He doesn’t get an opinion.” Bucky adds, and Steve chuckles under his breath.
“I do trust you, Buck. But I just wanna make sure you’re okay being on your own here.” Steve explains, crossing his arms as Bucky buries his hands into his jacket pockets.
It was going to be Bucky’s first time being completely alone in the compound. Everyone else was required for a mission, and Bucky simply wasn’t needed this time. Initially, it stung a little- that Sam was going over him, but some downtime never hurt anyone, right?
“I’ll be alright, Steve.” Bucky states as Tony emerges from the elevator, huffing loudly as he looks at his phone.
“Oh, tin man? Do me a favour and don’t scare my new assistant,” Tony calls out, and Bucky looks to Steve who simply shrugs his shoulders.
“Since when did you hire an assistant?” Steve asks, and Tony stops beside them, locking his phone as he puts it into his pocket.
“Since I lost the last one,” Tony retorts.
“You married your old assistant, Tony.” Bucky comments and Tony simply rolls his eyes.
“Just, don’t scare her off, she has potential.” Tony remarks before carrying on toward the Quinjet, leaving Steve to bid farewell to Bucky.
Stepping back, Bucky rolls on his heels. “Guess I won’t be completely alone after all.” Bucky huffs. It is one thing to be alone in the compound with one of the other Avengers, but someone he hasn’t even met yet, that’s a level of confidence and comfortability he has yet to reach.
“Hey,” Steve pats Bucky’s shoulder. “you’ll be fine, just be your charming self.”
“I think he died back in the forties, pal.” Bucky mutters as he shrugs it off, it’s only for a few weeks at most.
“Just, don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” Steve says softly as he steps back from Bucky, turning around toward the Quinjet.
Shuffling on the spot, Bucky watches as they leave. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky mumbles to himself as he walks back into the compound, wandering whereabouts his company for the next few weeks is hiding out.
*
It had been a quiet few days and Bucky had still yet to meet the newest addition to Starks team and started to wonder if Tony was messing with him for the fun of it.
At least, he thought as much until he was training in the gym when the faint sound of the piano caught his attention.
Pausing his work out, Bucky couldn’t stop his curiosity from getting the better of him as he exits the gym, hearing a familiar melody clearly coming from the shared living space in the compound.
As stealthily as possible, Bucky enters the open space and can make out a figure sat at the usually absent grand piano. Tony purchased it a year ago to fill the space, even though no one could play, it did work in making the compound look somewhat homely.
Stepping further into the room, Bucky knew the song, his Mother always played it on her radio and witnessed her and his Father dancing to it.
Humming the tune, you remain oblivious to the company creeping into the room as you remain concealed by the bonnet of the piano.
“Wake and dream medley?” Bucky speaks up, and you jump in your seat, hitting the keys of the piano causing an awful blunt sound to echo in the open space. “Sorry,” Bucky adds, now retreating into himself as you remain hidden. “I, I could hear you from the gym, I love, loved that song.”
“No need to apologise,” You chuckle, and Bucky tenses upon hearing your voice.
It sounds so familiar, too familiar for his liking.
Rising to your feet, you rub your hands together before closing the bonnet of the piano, now in full view to Bucky who can feel his whole body shutting down.
Bucky steps back in disbelief, clinging onto the sofa behind him with all his might as you hesitantly step forward. “I’m sorry for not introducing myself sooner, Mr Stark had me doing a fair bit of paperwork so I’ve been holed up in my suite for the past few days.” You explain, but Bucky can’t seem to meet your gaze. “I’m Y/n,”
You extend your arm, holding your hand out to Bucky who stares in disbelief.
“Is this some kinda cruel joke?” Bucky questions, slowly looking up at your confused expression. “Y/n, is it really you?” He stares at you, but your confusion only deepens as you lower your arm back to your side.
“Are you alright?” You ask, but Bucky continues to eye you with evident shock. “Have we met before?”
A dry laugh leaves Bucky’s lips as he straightens himself up. “Do you not know me?” His voice is breaking as you shake your head, and Bucky can feel the moment of relief in his heartbreak once again.
“I’m sorry, you must have me mistaken with someone else?” You nervously laugh, trying to ease the tension in the room.
Bucky simply nods and straightens himself up. “I’m Bucky, Bucky Barnes. And I do apologise for that, you just remind me of an old friend.” Bucky brushes it off, knowing it’s not possible, it just can’t be.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Bucky,” You tell him with a smile, one that Bucky once knew and loved, but he forces himself to remove that thought, it isn’t her. “the song I, I guess it was from your time?” You ask, moving back over to the piano and opening the bonnet.
“Yeah,” Bucky walks over, leaning against it as you take a seat, resuming the melody as if you had never paused. “I remember it growing up. How come you know it?”
Your fingers glide over the keys effortlessly and your eyes close for a moment. Whilst they’re closed, Bucky takes the chance to look at you properly, noting your distinct features, identical to the girl he once knew.
“I’m not sure,” You admit, lifting your fingers from the keys as you glance up at Bucky. “I, I just do.” Your brows furrow together, and Bucky notes how you look back at the piano.
“Well, it’s a nice song, so thank you for playing it.” Bucky speaks up. “I’ll be around, so I’ll be seeing you.” He mutters before exiting the room and rushes back to the gym, barely hearing you saying goodbye.
Once Bucky is gone, you look back at the piano. There’s no sheet music, but you knew the song, you knew the exact keys to play and the words as you hummed along.
There was something about Bucky, something amicable and undeniably so. You could feel it in the back of your mind, a nagging sensation to remember, remember something, anything. Yet, as always nothing follows through.
*
You and Bucky had been living in the compound for an entire week, and you had only come across him three times in total. The first at the piano, the second was after an attempted run; Bucky watched as you reentered the compound soaking from head to toe after being caught in a rainstorm. You tried to make a joke, but Bucky merely grumbled and walked off in the opposite direction. And the third well, that was this morning.
The smell of burnt toast woke you up, and you rushed from your suite to the shared floor where the kitchen is located.
“Stupid toaster,” Bucky groans under his breath as he throws the toast into the bin, slamming the lid shut with his metal hand, nearly leaving an indent.
“You alright there?” Your voice is so soft, and Bucky can feel the tension between his shoulders ease.
Lifting his metal arm up, Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I just got distracted.” He shrugs as he turns around to look at you in your pyjamas, just a t-shirt and joggers. A lot more casual than the girl he remembers in the forties.
“Happens to the best of us,” You joke, moving past him to grab a mug. “want one?” You hold a second mug up, and Bucky nods.
He remains quiet as you pour him a cup and slide it across the counter to him. “Look alive!” You call out, and he grasps it firmly.
Silence falls between you both as you look over your shoulder to see Bucky holding the mug in his metal fingers, a distant gaze over his eyes. “Real smooth, Y/n.” Bucky eventually speaks up, followed by a short laugh as he raises the mug to his lips.
“I’ve never done that before,” You admit, now leaning against the counter.
Laughter fills the bar as soldiers pass through with open arms and cheers for a new day. “Hey, look alive!” You yell as you slide across a bottle of beer to the brunette soldier.
“Thanks, Y/n.” His bright blue eyes focus on yours as he winks before patting his blond friend on the shoulder and walks closer toward you, yet the closer he gets, the more blurred he becomes. “Y-”
“Y/n?” Bucky calls out, snapping you from your thoughts. “You in there?”
“Sorry,” You look up from your mug, forcing a small smile. “got a bit lost in my head for a moment.” You mutter. “I, I’m going to go get ready.” You sip at your coffee and head out from the kitchen, leaving Bucky perplexed as he hears you running and swearing from in the hallway towards the elevator.
So, your encounters with Bucky haven’t exactly been the best. Yet, there’s something about him that you’re drawn to but scared of. His cool exterior doesn’t intimidate you, you know his history, you know all of the Avengers’ history. However there is a part of you that feels like you know Bucky somehow on a deeper level than what you've read in his files.
Rushing through your suite, you gather the necessary files before heading out to the elevator. You knew you shouldn’t have left it to the last minute to get the meeting scheduled.
As the metal doors open, Bucky steps aside, his blue eyes focused on his feet. “Which floor?” He asks.
“Two, please.” You respond, and silence ensues over you both.
It was becoming harder and harder for Bucky to not see the Y/n he once knew in you, this version of her or a copy. You twitched your nose the same way when you laughed, your hair smells like vanilla and you add small quirks to the same words.
“Y/n, do you ever have the feeling that you’ve met someone, in a previous life?” Bucky asks out of the blue, taking you by surprise.
“I, er,” You stumble over your words as you reach level two. “I’ll get back to you on that one, Bucky.” You tell him before exiting the elevator and carry on rushing to the conference room for your meeting with Pepper.
“Thought as such.” Bucky sighs as the doors close, leaving him alone with his memories of you once more.
*
“What’re you doing up here? You’ll freeze!” You laugh giddily as you wrap your arms around yourself, seeing Bucky sat with a blanket draped over his shoulders despite the early spring chill.
“I’ve endured worse, doll.” It rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, his treasured nickname for his girl.
Yet, you smile at the nickname, swearing you’ve heard it before. You contemplate a response, but leave it and walk closer, sitting beside Bucky.
“So, what are you doing up here? Am I that bad?” You nudge him playfully and without a second thought, Bucky lifts the blanket up, allowing you to curl into the soft fabric for much-needed warmth.
“You never could be, Y/n, trust me.” Bucky sighs sadly as he looks up to the stars, aware of you studying him closely, your eyes burning into each of his features. “I’m sorry if I’ve acted a little off this past week, I, I’m still adjusting to well, everything.” Bucky tries to ease his growing nerves as you scoot closer, the fragrance of your perfume encroaching into his nostrils like old times.
“You’ve been just fine, Bucky.” You reassure him as a faint smile forms on his lips.
“I’d know if you’re lyin’ to me, doll.” Bucky turns to face you, kneeling down as you cross your arms playfully, refusing to speak up. “Well, I guess you leave me no choice.” He mutters, and before you can react his hands grab your hips and he starts tickling you senselessly.
“Calm down, soldier!” You laugh happily. “Will you stop?!” You breathe out as his hands rise further up from your waist, pausing as he holds your face, smiling smugly to you, knowing you were truly hooked.
“So, I was just fine then, doll?” Bucky raises a brow as you nod, his hands bringing you closer as he breathes out a sigh into your lips. “Well, I guess I’ve got a few things to work on.”
“That you do mister.” You mutter before kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck as hollers from across the road sound, and the faint call of your name interrupts you once more.
“Y/n?” Bucky nudges you, and you look up at him with wide eyes. “Are you okay? You went all quiet on me for a minute.” He half laughs, seeing tears forming in your eyes as you shake your head.
“I, I’m not.” You admit, letting the tears fall. “I, you asked me earlier about feeling as if you’ve met someone in another life,” You trail off, seeing Bucky nod.
“Yeah,” Bucky mutters, feeling the remaining strings attached to his heart hoist it up, hoping they won’t fray at this final attempt. “it was dumb, I know.” He brushes it off.
“No, it’s not.” You tell him defiantly. “I, I keep having these memories of sorts, but I can’t make out any faces.” You rub your eyes. “Every day there’s this nagging sensation to remember something, to recognise someone I believe I knew, like there's this guy and I think he's someone I’m meant to know.” You explain, and Bucky can feel the restraints in his heart tightening, the cogs in your brain now turning.
“I know the feeling,” Bucky comments. “when HYDRA had me, they wiped my mind of everything, any memories of my life before and brainwashed me into their weapon. It’s kinda funny really, it was all still in there, and it slowly started to come back.”
“How did you know which memories were real?” Your voice softens as you home in on his blue eyes, watching as they twitch under your gaze. “Like, which weren’t misconstrued.”
Bucky shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, I just, I do.” He murmurs. “So, this guy, what’s he like?” Bucky changes the subject as a smile forms on his lips as you laugh lightly.
“I wish I knew,” A light shiver crosses your body, and Bucky pulls the blanket off of him, wrapping it around you. “he’s just, this amazing guy who, who is funny, and caring. I have these snippets of what I believe was our life together, but it doesn’t make any sense.” You ramble, trying your best to comprehend everything.
“Take your time.” Bucky reassures you.
“These ‘memories’ I’m having, they take place in the past- that much I know. But I know my life, I know the year I was born, I have memories of my childhood and I know my family.” You explain, feeling your eyes welling up with tears as your frustration and confusion increases. “How can I have memories of a life I’ve never lived?”
"Maybe you can." Whistling into the breeze, Bucky shuffles and turns to face you. “Try and focus on one detail, okay? Do you trust me?”
You search his eyes for any uncertainty, and you nod in response.
“Close your eyes.” Bucky whispers, and you oblige. “Think of him, think about any details that you have relived, any conversations or scenery you noticed.” Bucky suggests, trying his hardest to not reach out and take your hand in his.
Keeping your eyes closed, you try to focus on his face, hear his voice, but it’s all too much of a blur. “It’s no use.” You sigh, burying your face in your hands. “I just, I know if I ever saw him again or met him somehow, I’d know who he was.” You mumble into your palms, unaware of Bucky tearing his eyes from you, the ropes pulling his heart snapping for good, now beyond repair.
“You’ll find him, Y/n.” Bucky pats your back, hearing you sniffle.
“You think?” You ask, lifting your head back up as you half-smile to Bucky who nods.
“I’m sure of it.” He forces a smile, but you can tell it’s not reaching his eyes.
“Thanks, Bucky." Silence falls between you both, stifling the cool air. "I, I better go in before I catch a cold.” You rise to your feet, removing the blanket and hand it back to him. “Can’t have Mr Stark complaining about me coughing senselessly on a conference call.” A light laugh escapes your lips as you wave to Bucky before heading back inside.
As the door closes behind you, Bucky blankly stares out at the sky. “Oh, doll.” Bucky pleads to the stars. “Please remember.”
Now back on your floor, tears freely cascade down your cheeks as you sob into your hand, barely able to reach your door before you fall to the ground. “Come on,” You cry, feeling snippets of memories colliding together of the childhood you knew versus one you don’t recall, two boys by your side at all times.
Forcing yourself to your feet, you shut the door to your suite behind you, hearing laughter echo in your mind.
“Steve! Stop, I need to keep my dress clean!” You plead, looking down at the splashes of mud coating the hem of your dress.
“I warned you, punk.” Bucky sighs, hitting Steve over the back of the head with the newspaper. “You still look beautiful, Y/n.” Bucky winks to you, watching as you roll your eyes in response.
“Thanks, James.” You mutter, ignoring the burning of your cheeks as you reach your front steps. “I’ll see you boys later, seven still good?” You ask, looking between the pair as they nod. “Okay, well, don’t get in too much trouble without me.” You chuckle before turning on your heels and head up the front steps, unlocking your front door as the radio plays faintly.
“James?” You whisper to yourself, rushing over to the nearest mirror. “My name is Y/n Y/l/n. I am twenty-four years old. This is my home. My parents are Y/M/N and Y/D/N.” You recite, staring at yourself in the mirror. “This is who you are.”
Running your fingers through your hair, you step away from your mirror and fall into your bed.
“Ms Y/l/n?” FRIDAY calls out, and you quickly sit upright.
“Yes, FRIDAY?”
“Tony is calling you, would you like to answer?” The AI asks, and you groan into your pillow, it’s not like you couldn’t answer your employer.
“Sure, FRIDAY.” You reply, reaching over for your phone and answer the call from Tony. “Hey Mr Stark, how’s the mission going?” You feign positivity as you force a bright smile. Even if Tony cannot see you, the walls have eyes.
“Hey, Y/n, I told you before, call me Tony. We’re on our way back now, I just wanted to make sure the tin man hasn’t been causing you any trouble.” Tony asks, moving away from other voices in the background.
Your eyes rise to your closed door, picturing Bucky mere minutes ago by your side, trying to help you remember him, James Buchanan Barnes, your James.
“Jam-” You cut yourself off and move the phone away from your ear, allowing a moment to compose yourself for your boss. “Bucky’s been fine, I promise Mr, sorry, Tony.” You chuckle uneasily, but Tony doesn’t question it.
“Well good to hear, listen we’ll be back in an hour, and you can meet the rest of the team in the morning. Get some rest, Y/n.” Tony tells you and hangs up before you can respond, leaving you alone once more with the impending thoughts weighing heavy in your mind.
“This is who you are.” You repeat like a mantra as you lie back down in your bed, wishing tomorrow would never come.
P A R T  T W O 
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anythingwriter · 3 years
Text
Badassery
Thomas Shelby x reader
Warnings: language, Oswald Mosley, teeny tiny bit of sexual assault, implied smut if you squint, small bit of angst
Word count: 1,988 of pure trash:)
Requested by: anonymous 🐆
Summary: At one of Tommy’s famous parties, he sees his wife being hit on by the one and only Oswald Mosley. On his way to save her he stops in his tracks, shocked by how she handled things.
*******************************************************
Y/n Shelby was definitely a force to be reckoned with. While most men and women cleared a path when they saw Tommy coming, they’d clear the whole damn street when they saw her. She was unpredictable and even scarier than Arthur doped up on his snow.
Oh and her looks, she was one of the most beautiful gems Small Heath had ever seen. The men all wanted a taste of her, and the women strived to be her. She knew she was beautiful, and she walked with her head held high in confidence. Most importantly, she knew she could take care of herself. Apparently though, her husband did not.
It was a Friday evening and naturally your husband had decided to throw a party. People from the richest of families were there, wanting to see how the Thomas Shelby lived.
You and Tommy were in the corner conversing amongst yourselves, laughing at the guest and their ridiculous outfits, and Charlie was upstairs with the maids, hopefully asleep by now. Tommy had gone for a normal suit, his ocean eyes standing out against the deep black. You had chosen a beautiful burgundy dress with a daring plunge in the neck, accompanied by a jaw dropping diamond necklace Tommy had given you for your three year anniversary. The dress hugged you perfectly, showing off your best assets. Tommy couldn’t tear his eyes off of you.
“Tommy, look at Mrs.Evans! Sh- she looks like she has a dog wrapped around her neck!” You bent over laughing, having to put a hand on your knee to stop yourself from falling flat out on the floor, almost spilling your wine in the process. Her scarf was obnoxiously large and fluffy, and you couldn’t get enough of it.
Tommy looked over as well, and he chuckled at the sight, nowhere near laughing as hard as you. It was safe to say you were a little more on the tipsier side. He reached down his ring clad hand and grabbed your wine, “that’s enough for you love,” and he put it on the passing butlers tray, mumbling a small thanks in the process.
You straightened back out and looked up at Tommy and gave him the biggest puppy eyes you could muster, you were not done with your wine and you wanted it back.
“Bu-“
“No buts darling, you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of all these people, right?. Maybe wait until it’s just me and you, yeah? Sound good?” You weakly nodded your head to Tommy, knowing there was no way you were going to win this debate.
“Tommy?”
He turned to look at you, “yes darling?”
You stared at him with the best serious face you could possibly offer in your given state, “ You- you said butts!” You doubled back over again laughing your ass off. It truly wasn’t that funny, but you felt like a damn comedian at this point. Tommy gave you one of his famous “bitch, really” faces and walked away from you.
“Tommy! Where are you going? You can’t just leave me here!” He kept walking to the other side of the room, not once turning around to spare you another glance.
“Tommmmyyyyy!” He still didn’t turn around, and you were about to shout again until you saw some guest looking at you. You gave them all a bitter look and they averted their gazes, none of them wishing to die tonight. You frowned in Tommy’s direction before turning around to find someone you knew to talk too. You spotted Polly in the distance and headed her way.
“Ahhh Mrs.Shelby, lovely to see you this evening.”
You stopped in your tracks at the voice, slowly turning around to meet the cold eyes of Oswald Mosley. All the wine you had drank that night quickly left your system at the sight of him. Tommy had warned you to stay away from him, he warned you that he had no care about the feelings of women. You knew he was a terrible man.
He reached out with his bare clammy hand and grabbed your glove covered one and brought it up to his lips to give it a kiss, never once breaking eye contact with you.
You cringed on the inside, giving him a charming smile anyway. “Lovely too see you as well, Mr.Mosley.”
He looked you up and down, “might I just say dear, you look rather… ravishing tonight,” as the last word left his mouth he allowed his eyes to stop and stare at your breast. You pulled back at this, hating yourself for choosing such a daring dress. “Thank you, sir. I do believe I should go find my husband though, I’m sure he’s looking for me, have a good night Mr.Mosley.”
As you were walking around him to follow the way Tommy had left you moments prior, Oswald latched his hand onto your wrist, pulling you back towards him.
“Actually y/n, I ran into him for a brief conversation before I came to see you, and I can promise he seems quite busy with Mr.Solomons at the moment.” He gave you a sinister smile, still not letting go of your wrist.
You tried to pull back your hand but he only gripped it tighter, your wrist began to throb at this point.
“Mr.Mosley,” your teeth were clenched and you were sure your face was red, “I would actually love to go say hello to Mr.Solomons. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Alfie.” And with one final tug, your wrist slipped from his hold, but he was having none of that. He quickly grabbed you by your hips and pulled you flush to his chest, you could smell the alcohol and cheap cologne coming from him. For being so confident in himself he sure smelt like a piece of shit.
He squeezed your hips too tight for comfort and forced a smile towards you.
“It seems to me, Mrs.Shelby,” squeeze “that you are trying to get away from me. Do you not enjoy my company?” His dark brown eyes were boring into your e/c eyes.
You felt disgusted, who did this man think he was?
You glared at him, you gathered every ounce of anger and disgust you could and pushed it all behind your eyes.
“Mr.Mosley, I suggest you take your hands off of me right now, I don’t believe my husband would be too happy. He doesn’t like sharing.” You were furious, spitting out every word through your clenched teeth.
He scoffed, “your husband? Wouldn’t you like to see what a real man is like?” He still held your hips, and he slowly but forcefully pushed his hips up against yours.
*******************************************************
Across the room, Tommy was looking for you while he listened to Alfie speak. His blood boiled at the sight he found.
“So you see Tommy I-“
“Shut up Alfie.”
Alfie gazed over at Tommy incredulously, his cane stuck in midair from his rambling.
“Ex-fucking-cuse me Thomas?”
Tommy didn’t have time for Alfies games and pointed his cigarette in your direction. He followed Tommy’s hand and widened at the sight. There was no mistaking the disgusting excuse of a man and the beautiful woman Tommy was oh so lucky to call his.
Alfie had met you a couple of times, and although you were one scary bitch, he knew you were kind hearted behind your exterior. Even though you weren’t his he felt rage bubbling inside. He could see the discomfort on your face, he could only imagine what Tommy was thinking.
“Yeah, if I were you lad, I think I would go over and put a bullet in between the wops eyes, yeah.”
“Couldn’t agree with you more Alfie.” And with that Tommy was marching his way across the room to save his wife. When he was halfway across the room with determination on his face, he almost tripped over his own feet. The sight in front of him was not one he was expecting to see.
*******************************************************
Mosley pushed his hips up towards yours, and disgustingly enough you could feel everything through his pants. You could feel bile rising in your throat. You looked over his shoulder and saw Tommy on his way over with figurative steam coming out of his ears.
To hell with Tommy, he was the one that left you in the first place. You didn’t need his help, you were anything but a damsel in distress.
With that you brought your knee up to Mosley’s groin, a satisfactory smile on your face hearing him moan in pain.
When he doubled over in pain you didn’t hesitate before beating on the man.
“I-,” punch “said get-,” punch “off of-,” punch “ME!” kick.
Breathing heavily standing over the bloodied mans body, your senses began to come back to you. The band Tommy had hired stopped playing, everyone had stopped dancing, looking at you with bewilderment on their faces. You could hear Mosley struggling for air beneath you, and Tommy, well he was completely frozen in his spot, his jaw hanging open and he felt something stir inside of him.
You looked around, wiping off the dirt and blood on your hands and snapped at everybody staring at you, “shows over fuckers!” Everyone resumed what they were doing.
Tommy stormed over to you and for a second you thought he was going to shout. His brows were furrowed and he had a scowl on his face. When he was finally standing in front of you, you ducked your head waiting for the scolding.
You let out a surprised sound of shock when Tommy grabbed your face between both his hands and pressed his lips to yours. It was messy and uncoordinated, but neither of you cared.
Recovering from your moment of shock you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing back with just as much neediness. Tommy moved his hands down your back and grabbed your ass, emitting a moan from you and he slipped his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste of wine and cigarettes.
When he pulled back for air he stared into your eyes, keeping his hand on your ass.
“That-,” he took a deep breath, “was the hottest thing I have ever seen.” He pulled your hips closer to his, and you could feel him hardening against you.
You smirked up at Tommy, laughing before running your hand down his chest. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”
His eyes darkened, when he opened his mouth to speak again he was interrupted by a very impressed gangster.
“Y/n! Darling!,” Alfie came running over as fast as he could with his leg, swinging his cane all over the place in excitement, almost pulling off Mrs.Evans scarf in the process, “that was amazing! Tell me, how did you do it?”
You gave an innocent smile in the mans direction, still wrapped in Tommy’s arms, “it’s called badassery Alfie, I could teach you if you want?”
Tommy let out a loud laugh at that, letting go of your ass to pull you to his side by your waist and gave Alfie an award winning Thomas Shelby smile.
Alfie looked at you for a moment before laughing himself.
“You gotta’ keeper here Tom, don’t let her go or I’ll snatch her up myself.”
Tommy glared at Alfie and turned his attention to you smiling, “Trust me Alf, I’m never letting this one go.”
And with that Tommy dragged you upstairs into your shared room, showing you how hot he thought it truly was, and awarding you a job well done.
*******************************************************
a/n: I hope you like it honey! I’m not sure I liked the ending though, but I hope y’all do!!❤️❤️
Also! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Have a good day darlins!🥰
@shadowfoxey @nothingleftthaticando
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theliterarywolf · 2 years
Note
Kinda random but do you have any job seeking tips? Currently I'm fighting the black hole of submitting applications and hearing little back. I totally get it's the nature of these things and worse for me I'd really like a creative/art job.
I try to follow up with friendly emails and things, but I've just felt so crushed especially since two really promising jobs got nowhere after the interviews. Trying hard to stay positive but I'm so disappointed
Okay, so I can only offer advice from the context of job-seeking as a whole. I know that the more creative fields have their own hoops and angles people have to be aware of (having active portfolios of your work, have consistent testimonials of clients' experiences with you, etc), but from my perspective:
Embellish. The SHIT. Out of your Resumes.
I don't mean out-and-out lie because, depending on the job, that can go really badly really fast, but just consider all the skills/hobbies that you have, think about how you could 'sanitize' them (translate them to a business-friendly phrase), and list it as one of your skills.
Example: Are you an older or middle sibling who had to help your younger siblings with homework or studying? Bam: (However Many Years) Freelance Tutoring Experience. Have you ever worked on a zine or sold any form of your writing online? Bam: Experience in Publishing on the Independent Sector. Can you use at least half of the applications found in Microsoft Suite (i.e.: Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Outlook)? Bam: Expert Level Experience with Microsoft Suite.
The other thing I would advise for people to keep in mind is: Make friends in whatever industry you're trying to get into. I know for some people this one is hard. Even me being in the Education sector with my professors and supervisors constantly telling all of the candidates 'Network! Expand your network! Get the contact info of your classmates~!', I always wince and say 'I know a few people in here and I have professor and supervisor connections, isn't that enough?' But, again, for some fields (like the Creative sector) sometimes getting hired really can come down to who you know/who has at least heard your name in passing conversation.
Finally, though this is one of the most lackluster tips, just go full Blitzkrieg and send out as many applications as possible. Kind of like the notion of casting a wide net versus a single line. This, however, does rely strongly on you having a strong resume that stands out.
Again, I know that a lot of this advice seems universal and not aimed at a specific job sector, but I at least hope some of it provides some insight.
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
Note
Can u pls write something like dark!reader x steve rogers high school AU , where R is rich spoil brat & she always had a crush on steve but she always bully him by calling him skinny and all and Then yrs later, time changes her family discarded her from will and she becomes poor and need job, got hired for PA by dark ceo!steve rogers who she bullied her all school lifee😈😈
okay this is a lot for a headcanon but I don’t have time to do a whole oneshot BUT I also really like it so we’re gonna just make a longass headcanon here we gooooo
warnings for heavy dub con, choking, slapping, degradation (by steve), bullying (by the reader), abortion mention, brief mention of/implied assault.
“heyo pipsqueak” you called out to get steve’s attention, laughing when he frowned.  “looks like you grew a whole inch over summer, be sure to have your mom draw a line in pencil on the doorframe.”
he just rolled his eyes and got back to chatting with his friend.  not friends, friend, cause he only had one: bucky, who snarled at you as well.
“pick on someone your own size, if you can find somebody with as big a head as you,” bucky shot back, making you scoff.
“you know, it’s a shame you hang out with this deformed freak, you could’ve been popular.  you’ve got the looks for it.”
“I’d rather keep my brains, thanks,” bucky explained as you walked away with your posse of fellow popular kids.
you didn’t used to be so mean to steve.  it was sort of a comedy of errors, really.  you two had been friends in elementary school-- you, him, and bucky were the rambunctious trio up until middle school.  
things change for boys and girls in middle school.  guys just get along with each other and don’t think about it much.  girls, though... girls need to be sharp.  it’s eat or be eaten.  and you wanted to eat.
you were lucky that you developed early.  it meant that girls respected you and boys feared you-- not just for your attractive features but for the fact that you loomed a foot over most of them.
you started to take advantage of it.  and by the time you realized you had feelings for your best friend steve, it was already too late-- he was at the bottom of the food chain and you were at the top.  
you told your new girl friends that you wanted to take steve to the sadie hawkins.  they laughed at you.  for a moment, you felt what it was like to be outcast and you never wanted to feel it again.  so, you told steve and bucky that you’d grown apart.  and you were happy to just be former friends...
it was steve that started it.  he called you out.  he told you that you were nothing like who he used to know-- you had become vapid and cold and narcissistic.
“you’re so busy worrying about what other people think, you never take the time to think for yourself.”  that was what he said.  and it fucking hurt.
“saw you talking to your boyfriend steve the dweeb,” your friend tanya announced at lunch just a few minutes after that conversation.  and you were angry, and hurt, and truly friendless despite being surrounded by other popular girls.  so you said some things you could never take back.
“steve?  as if.  did you know he still sleeps with a security blanket?  and he has his friend bucky fight for him every week cause if he took a punch he’d crumble to dust?”
and so, mortal enemies were formed.  it only got worse in high school, as you fought to secure your title at the top while steve and bucky’s presence filled your heart with guilt and your gut with anger.
if only you’d known how quickly you could fall from your high horse.
it started when you dated tanya’s ex, brock.  she was made so she spread a rumor that you would fuck any guy on the football team, even all of them at once.
apparently, a lot of people believed it since tanya had been your sidekick since 6th grade.
two football players believed it.  and when you wouldn’t follow through on it, you got yourself a black eye.
that meant you missed school for a week because you couldn’t possibly show up looking like that.  tanya told everyone it was because you got grounded and sent away to church camp after your parents caught you in bed with one of the neighbors.  so now your reputation was ‘sleeps with football players and old men.’
only brock had been there for you.... but it turned out he had motives of his own.  you had originally planned to wait until college, but brock was clearly wanting something in return for putting up with dating pariah #1... so you let him take your virginity.
the condom broke.  when you dashed to the trash can to hurl in the middle of history class, you knew something was wrong.  (and lost that many more social points in the process.)
brock dumped you the second he found out you were pregnant.  didn’t even help you pay for the abortion.  he got back together with tanya and told her the real reason for your ‘medical absence’.  and that was the last straw for the former homecoming queen.
the humiliation drove you to some.... poor choices, for the next few years.  you tried not to think about them now, but it was hard not to when their consequences were staring you right in the face: no money, no job, nearly homeless, and desperate.
over a hundred job applications later, only one had called you back and scheduled an interview.  and you only needed one.
so there you were, waiting in the chilly lobby area while the receptionist typed away and chomped her gum, tapping your toes and glancing out the window occasionally.
you were surprised when you had been told your interview would be on the 51st floor.  you sort of assumed it would just be some random manager interviewing you, not somebody important enough to have a waiting room like this, or a view like this.
when a man stepped out from the nearby hallway, your eyes went wide.  he was tall, and handsome, and obviously muscular underneath the exquisite suit.  you suddenly felt underdressed in your hand-me-down business clothes.
then he called your name.  and you realized he was going to interview you.
you stood up and nodded.  “you can follow me to my office,” he instructed with a smile, leading you down the hall to the corner office.  you were in awe of the grandiosity of it all.  you were dumbfounded when you saw CEO on the door.
“there must have been a mistake,” you explained as he shut the door behind you.  “I... I’m just interviewing for an entry-level position.”
“no, there’s no mistake,” he shook his head, “I have you exactly where I want you.  take a seat.”
he circled his desk and sat on the other side of it, resting his elbows on the desk and giving you an oddly smug smile.  an awkward silence was finally broken when he realized, “you must not remember me.”
“I... have we met?” 
“I don’t blame you, I look pretty different,” he shrugged.  “I must’ve grown a whole inch this summer.”
you gave him a confused look before realization dawned on you, along with shame, and fear.
“oh... oh my god, Steve?!” you squawked.  he just grinned.  “you look... you look...”
“taller?”
sexy.
“you look great!” you said aloud instead.
“yeah,” he agreed, “wish I could say the same for you.”
you swallowed dryly.  “so that’s what you want,” you sighed, “to get back at me.  I understand.  I deserve it...”
“I don’t want revenge,” he denied.  “I’m just sorry to see you haven’t been... thriving, since high school.  your job history--” he scanned your resume briefly-- “well, you don’t have one.  have you been slumming it all this time?”
“without my parents’ money?  yeah,” you admitted.  
“surprised you applied here, instead of turning tricks on 5th and Columbus.”
your back straightened and your eyes went wide at that comment.
“I mean, you’re already dressed for it,” he smirked.
you stood up and crossed your arms.  “if you’re just going to insult me, then I’ll leave now.  I’m sorry for everything I did to you, steve,” you announced, voice shaky with oncoming tears.
“can you really afford to leave?” he pressed.  “if you have a chance at a job?”
that, unfortunately, got your attention.  “you... you might actually offer me something?”
“I will offer you something,” he corrected, “if you just sit down and listen.”
you relented, returning to your seat.  you could stand a lot more insults if there was money on the line.
“to be honest, there’s no way I can hire you for the position you applied for,” he sighed.  “you’re just underqualified.  but I think I can create a position for you.”
you liked the sound of that.  “what kind of position?”
“well, that’s tricky, seeing as you don’t have any skills,” he frowned, “except one.  so that’s the one I plan on using.”
the look in his eyes made it all too clear what he was referring to, but as you shrunk into the leather chair he went ahead and clarified.
“I’ll pay you whatever salary you saw in the ad.  but you won’t be doing data analysis or office management or anything like that.  all you’ll be doing is spreading your legs for me whenever I fucking want.”
fear shot up your spine; his eyes were devouring you, pinning you to the chair, and you tried to process that.  “I--”
“before you say anything,” he interrupted immediately, “let’s just be perfectly clear that this might be your only shot at a real job.  what I’m offering has better pay than stripping, and better benefits than hooking.  and unless you have any education or experience I don’t know about, you’re totally fucked.”
“seems like I’m fucked either way,” you mumbled, making him laugh.
“see, you’ve still got that sharp tongue,” he grinned.  “can’t wait to put it to better use.”
maybe it was just desperation for cash.  maybe it was because he was good-looking and you could do a lot worse.  maybe it was because, on some level, you felt like you deserved his punishment after how horribly you’d treated him.
“I’ll do it,” you sighed.  “when do I start?”
he stood up and reached across the desk to grab your neck, glaring at you.  “right now.”
his free hand was already fumbling with his belt, the one on your throat guiding you downwards.  “on your knees,” he instructed, and you slipped out of the chair and onto the floor.
he let go of your neck and you figured he was going to come to you, but instead he stood still and demanded: “crawl.”
debasing as it was, you crawled on your knees to his side of the desk, and he laughed at you bitterly.  when you reached his feet and popped back up, you gasped at the sight of his hard cock right in front of your face. it was bigger than your face.  and it was dripping precum.
“don’t get so bug-eyed, you can handle it,” he grinned.  “if your mouth’s as big as I remember...”
you didn’t want to hear any more.  you just wanted to get this over with, so you quickly took his head between your lips and started to suck.  you were shocked when he slapped you, hard enough to knock his length from your mouth and to make you reach up and clutch your stinging cheek.
“fucking whore,” he grimaced, “did I say you could put it in your mouth?  god, you’re so fucking desperate.  just open your fucking mouth and I’ll show you what I want, okay?”
you nodded and stammered an apology, looking up at him with watery eyes and an open mouth.  he swiped the latest drop of precum on your tongue before gliding his cock over it, grabbing your hair to keep you steady as he pushed himself to the back of your throat.
“fuck, that’s better,” he sighed.  “so much better when you just do what you’re told.  I remember how you used to be so cruel with this mouth.  now you’re being so welcoming...”
you just sat there and let him use your mouth, trying not to gag when he hit your throat.
“look up at me,” he instructed, “yeah, that’s it.  can’t have you forgetting who’s doing this to you, now can we?”
that went on for a bit longer until mascara-stained tears streaked your face, which he seemed rather proud of.
“damn, wouldn’t mind having you swallow my come right now,” he admitted, “but I have bigger plans.  get up, bend over my desk.”
you coughed briefly when he pulled out, but did as you were told.  he instantly yanked your skirt up over your ass and spanked you several times roughly, making you sob and whine.
“wanna see this ass all bruised up in the shape of my hand,” he explained.  “so we can both remember how hard I fucked you.”
he tore your panties like they were paper, chuckling when he found you already wet.
“dripping already, just from choking on my cock?  poor baby...”
you spread your legs slightly, though you were sure nothing was going to adequately prepare you for his size.
“you figured out how to use birth control since graduating, right?” he asked, and you nodded quickly.  “good.  cause I’m not using a condom,” he continued as he let his cock glide over your folds, groaning slightly, “and there’s no way in hell I’m pulling out.”
he pushed forward in one brutal stroke, making you cry out loudly.  you really hoped these rooms were mostly soundproof.
“shit, you’re tight,” he hissed, already pulling back and thrusting back in.  “clearly you recovered from your years of slutting it up in high school.”
“that-- that wasn’t true,” you defended.
“oh, just shut up,” he growled.
he fucked you fast and deep, his hips pushing yours into the edge of his desk with each thrust.  his hands pinned you down at your shoulders, another reminder that you were entirely at his mercy.
“fuck, this is just what you needed... somebody to put you in your place.  makes sense that it should be me, since you hated me so much.”
“I didn’t h-hate you,” you hiccuped. 
“yeah, you wanted me, didn’t you?”
“always,” you admitted.
“wanted my fat fuckin’ cock to tear up your pussy?  is that it?”
“yes,” you moaned, “yes, steve, wanted to be yours.”
“even when I was skinny and short?”
“even when you hated me,” you added.
he growled slightly and you felt your walls tighten around him suddenly.  he chuckled, clearly aware that you were enjoying this.
“you want more, baby?  want me to fuck you harder?”
“whatever you want,” you answered instead.  “just use me however you want.”
he moaned and leaned down to cage your body in with his.  “fuck, baby... you’re taking this better than I thought you would.  such a good girl for me, huh?  such a good little slut.  want me to use you, baby?  take all my anger out on you?”
“yes,” you whispered, sobbing when he began to fuck you more brutally than you thought possible.  but it felt good.  so good that your legs were shaking, so good that you felt even better when he tugged your hair.
“yeah, gonna come on my cock, aren’t you?” 
you nodded and bit your lip.
“m’ close too,” he admitted, “you’re gonna be so full of my come, it’s gonna be dripping down your legs when you walk out of here...”
your orgasm made your body shake and your eyes roll back.
“fuck, I can feel you coming,” he groaned, “fuck, just like that-- fuck!”
you felt his warmth fill you as his cock flexed against your walls.  you were busy trying to catch your breath when he slumped down on top of you and pushed the air from your lungs.
“damn... didn’t think I was gonna come that fast,” he sighed.  “see what you do to me?  fuck, I knew this was a good idea.”
sure, it felt good, but you were sure he was only going to get rougher and meaner the longer this went on.  you couldn’t imagine how you were going to get out of here without somebody noticing your wrinkled clothes, messed-up hair and, as he’d pointed out himself, come all over your thighs.
“guess I’ll see you at 8am tomorrow, huh?” he chuckled, giving you an unexpected peck on the cheek.  you couldn’t answer, though, interrupted by the phone on his desk ringing.  “oh, sorry, gotta get this.”
he reached for the phone and picked it up, bringing to his ear all without pulling out of you or even lifting his body from on top of yours.
“bucky, hey,” steve grinned as he spoke into the phone, looking down at you and stroking your hair, “you’re not gonna believe who I ran into today...”
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chelleztjs18 · 3 years
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Lost in Assistance - Ch. 4
Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?
Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)
All chapters
Today is Wednesday but not just a regular Wednesday. It’s the day of the meeting with Elizabeth Olsen and her manager, Jane Vernon.
Your phone alarm sounds break the silence in your room slowly but sure it gets louder enough to motivate you to start the day. You woke up with mixed feelings. Excited yet nervous at the same time. You turn on some music. Sunset Lover - Petit Biscuit starts to play and you get ready. After a fresh shower, you put on just enough nude color makeup then you go to your walk-in closet to pick a close-fitting button up white shirt with burgundy stripes and black slim fit women's suit and trousers with burgundy open toe high heels that match with your nails color since it’s your favorite color. You get your side parted wavy medium length burgundy colored hair done that makes it flow down to your shoulder. You may be the type of girl who doesn’t really like to put on much makeup, but you take your hair, clothings and nails pretty seriously as well as your perfume.
As soon as you are all ready and putting your heels on while sitting on a little sofa in the middle of your closet, your phone rings. You guessed that it’s Mitchel and you are right. 
“Good morning darling.” You answered as you continued to put on your shoes. “Oh wow, that's the spirit! Good morning love! Are you excited for today? Are you ready?” said Mitchel on the other end. “Well, yeah but no but also yeah that I’m all ready to go.” You replied while you took another look in front of the mirror and slowly twirled to make sure you looked good. Then you spray a little bit of perfume and you are ready to go downstairs while still on the phone. “Okay great. I will see you over there, I want to say hi to Jane. Everything will be okay. Don't be nervous, okay Y/n?” Mitchel tried to make you feel better. “Thank you Mitchel. I appreciate it. I’m leaving soon so I’ll see you there. Bye.” You grab your medium size leather purse and go downstairs.
As usual, your mom is already awake, sitting on the big living room couch. “Morning Ma. I have a meeting this morning. It shouldn’t be that long but you know Mitchel, he might want to have brunch after that but just call me if you need anything, okay? Love you Ma.” You gave her a hug and went to the garage. “Okay hun. Good luck. Love you too.”
You put on your prescription aviator style sunglasses, blast some music to amp you up started by White Lies - Odesza then start driving. The sun was up but not too bright, the traffic wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be so you arrived there a little too early. 
As you walked into the lobby you saw a coffee shop so you decided to get some ice coffee for you. Just when your order is ready and you are about to grab it, you notice a familiar face whose order is ready too. It was Lizzie grabbing her order. Eye contact was caught between you two and you gave a smile just to be friendly and she replied with a nod and small smile. You recognize her even though her long dirty blonde hair flawlessly covers both sides of her face and she is wearing sunglasses that were intended to cover her face so she won’t be recognized. You both walk towards the elevator and blend in with a group of people in the elevator. You saw her pressed the floor button then she dived back into whatever she was doing with her phone. The elevator stopped on your floor, some people went out to go to other offices which are on the same floor as Vernon’s office. Lizzie went out as well but she stopped in front of the elevator to answer a phone call so she didn’t know that you both actually have the same destination to meet Jane.
After you greeted and talked to Aaron, Jane’s assistant, he informed you to wait in the waiting room. Few minutes later, you heard that Lizzie came in and was told the same thing as you were. She is sitting on the chair across you talking on the phone with her best friend about the plan to meet up after the meeting, while you are browsing on your phone and enjoying your ice coffee you can feel that sometimes she takes a quick glance once or twice at you without knowing who you are and why you are there. 
“I don’t even wanna be here. I still think it’s a stupid idea to get me another personal assistant. This already made me upset to begin with and it’s just gonna make me not like this person already even though I know it’s not her fault to get hired by Jane.” She tried to talk as quietly as possible but not quite enough for you not to be able to hear it. Aaron came and told her that she can come into the meeting room. “I gotta go, I’ll see you later after the meeting. Bye.”
She hangs up then proceeds to follow Aaron to the meeting room. After what you heard, you can only chuckle to yourself knowing this is not gonna be easy work between you both. Aaron comes for your turn. “Ms. Y/l/n, they are ready for you. You can come this way.” Aaron guides you to the meeting room. You smiled and thanked him as he opened the door for you.
You come into the meeting room that has large windows around it that give natural light and a pretty sky view decorated with clouds and top of skyscrapers of L.A with the trails of the streets and cars that look so small from up here. You see Lizzie is sitting next to Jane with Mitchel sitting in front of them, parted by a big rectangle glass table. 
“Y/n darling! You made it!” Mitchel came to you and gave you a cheek to cheek kiss as always. “Hi Mitch. I’m glad to be here.” You smiled.
“Come, let me introduce you to these fabulous ladies. Jane, Lizzie this is Y/n Y/l/n. She is my best friend slash the best personal assistant you are looking for. Y/n, this is Elizabeth Olsen and her manager Jane Vernon.” Mitch proudly introduces you to them. 
“Nice to meet you Y/n, Mitch talked a lot about you once he knew I was looking for a professional assistant. I hope you don't mind me calling you by your first name.” While Jane offered her hand for a friendly handshake yet felt so formal, you can see from the corner of your eyes Lizzie’s jaw dropped a little, looking at you up and down realizing you might have heard what she said on the phone earlier about you. “The pleasure is mine Mrs. Vernon and yeah I don't mind you calling me by my first name” You gave a firm professional handshake and smiled. “You can call me Jane.”
You then slightly turn your head to Lizzie and her beautiful green eyes are now so easily noticeable by you without her sunglasses on. “Ms. Olsen, It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled and tried to stay professional even though you know how she feels about this meeting and about you. There is an awkward vibe from Lizzie towards you since she thinks you heard her conversation but her stubbornness about this whole thing is bigger than the awkwardness itself that made the friendly Lizzie respond a little cold to you. “Thanks, same here.” She gave you a quick handshake but you can feel the softness of her skin even though just for a few seconds.
The four of you take a seat. “So Y/n, this is not an interview because practically you are already hired because I read your resume plus the reference from Mitch here. I gotta admit, it’s pretty impressive. Lots of years of experience working in this field, you have worked with big names in Hollywood. You speak five languages and that’s another big plus. We have this meeting just so we can sign the contract and agreement. I believe Mitch already gave you the details of Do’s and Don'ts and our expectation specially from Lizzie here.” Jane explained while she was looking at your resume then slid some papers in front of you on the table for you to take a look at it.
“Well, to be honest what I wanted was actually simple, I don’t want any new personal assistant but Jane insisted on giving it a try, so here I am. So, I hope you are as great as your resume Y/n to make my try worth it.” Lizzie said it in a quite firm tone with the best pretend smile she can do. Deep down she hoped what she just said would’ve just made you change your mind.
“Ha Ha Lizzie was just joking. Isn’t she funny?” Jane laughed awkwardly and tried to give Lizzie a look about what she said. 
“Is that so, Ms.Olsen? Don’t you worry about it. I hope the way I work and the way I do my job suits you.” You gazed at her eyes before you gave a fake smile. You tried to remind yourself in your mind that you respect Mitch and don’t want to put him in a hard time with his client even though Jane is a good friend of his otherwise your reaction would be different.
“This is the contract, it will be only for two years but it might be for less than that. If it does change to less than two years, there will be a notice in advance. It can also be terminated early if there is a mutual decision by both parties. All of this is written in it. It says you acknowledged and  agreed with what I just informed you. You can sign on every section that’s marked X” Jane explained all the details while she showed each point. You read everything, gazed at Lizzie’s mesmerizing green eyes and gave a little smirk to her then signed each section. As you can see, this clearly upset Lizzie.
“Okay, everything is good. In this envelope, there are all Lizzie’s schedules, addresses and numbers. Plus all lists what she likes and dislikes. Sometimes you need to drive with her, sometimes you don't have to. I’m sure you know the drill, but just a friendly reminder that everything is confidential, especially all Marvel related. You can start on Friday. I guessed that’s all. Welcome to our family Y/n. We are thrilled that you joined us here, right Lizzie?” Jane finalized everything with another handshake with you and Mitchel. “Yeah, sure. Now if you guys excuse me, I gotta go right now. Sorry.” Lizzie put a tiny smile in the corner of her lips, waved goodbye then left in a rush and looked upset.”
As soon as Lizzie left and the door was closed, Jane apologized. “Ummm, Mitchel, Y/n I’m truly sorry for how Lizzie acted earlier. Trust me, she is actually a very sweet, genuine and friendly person. That’s the reason I have been her manager and agent for years, she’s like a sister to me. It’s just that she sometimes can be very determined or stubborn with what she wants or what she doesn't want and not afraid to show it but I’m sure she will slowly understand why I need to have Y/n’s help. She just has anxiety when she has to adjust or deal with new people. I hope you guys can understand.”
“Don’t worry about that Jane. I have met Lizzie and I know how sweet she is. Like I told you before, Y/n has her own way of working and don't be surprised with how straight forward she is plus she doesn't sugar coat things. She is eccentric in a good way. Right Y/n?” He nudged your arm and smiled.
“Haha. yeah sure Mitch.” You answered jokingly. “I guess we better get going. Thank you Jane. Nice seeing you as always.” You and Mitch bid farewell to Jane and left. “Bye guys. See you again.” Jane walked back to her office room.
“Mitchel, what the hell was that? Why did she act like that? On top of all, why didn’t you tell me that she actually didn’t want an assistant?!” You tried to whisper so nobody at the office heard as you both were walking out of the office.
“Yeah about that, I forgot to tell you. I’m sorry. “ Mitch squinted his eyes waiting because he was worried how your reaction was gonna be.
“You are lucky we are best friends otherwise I wouldn’t sign that contract and would’ve said NO on the spot after what she said. I already don’t like her. This is not gonna be easy.” You said it jokingly but it has a little bit of truth in it.
“Haha. I love you too!” Mitch replied happily, knowing you would help him no matter what. Both of you parted, continue with your days.
Ch. 5
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