Robert Fischer Smut - Blog Posts

LOVE YOU WITH MY EYES CLOSED

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Part one Part two Part three

Summary: At a young age Y/N was given away for marriage, years later the dust began to settle and her life caught a rhythm she stopped fighting. Is Tommy, the man she once knew too well, ready to play along and let her go once again?

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: depression, heartache, mental and physical abuse

A/N: Slow introduction, next chapter will pick up on pace. Enjoy

Coming back to Birmingham ignited more mixed feelings than Y/N expected it ever would. Pushing through the difficult changes back in the day caused her to stomach so much pain and.. distress at the inability to make her own choices. She thought there was nothing in her to cause fear anymore.

A weird kind of fear it was, this time. Looking out the window as the train plummeted through the fields, shaking and groaning under the weight of people all heading to the city she couldn't shake off. Four years passed so quickly, in a pace she didn't understand when she looked back at the first months of constant struggle she endured. Leaving everything behind. Becoming nothing more than a tool to life of.. prosperity for her family.

She fought it for so long, back then. Much to her father's misunderstanding, her unbreakable spirit made everything so much more difficult.

Yet eventually everything must come to an end though, in a reality where her value was tightly connected with how pretty she was, and how aesthetically pleasing she looked, hanging on the arm of a man she barely knew.

It was much easier to ignore from the distance, but the closer she got to Birmingham, more wounds began reopening, hurting and itching despite her neutral expression and unmoving figure.

One of his hands rested on her thigh, the other one holding a newspaper. The lack of communication was nothing short of normal between them. After all, when nobody was around, they didn't have to pretend as much. Nickolas Winterbourne, a man coming from a life where nothing ever ran out, where pantries were never empty and clothes never dirty. He existed in a controlled environment snuggly clothed in money at every corner, shielding him from any difficulties life planned to throw his way - unaffected by the simple disdain of modern times they happened to live in.

For what it was worth, Y/N considered herself lucky. He was… polite, usually gentle which was way more than she could have ever asked for from people in his social class. His hands were smooth, untainted by physical labour that he never had to do. His disposition contradicted his father's, a man purely self-absorbed and cruel with one purpose – wealth.

Y/N was grateful for the person he was deep down, even though he was forcing her into situations they could avoid, yet rarely violating her physically or mentally.

Nickolas was… indifferent. His demeanour calm, collected and bordering on bored most of the time. His eyes looked at her with a never ending patience and neutrality she grew to appreciate, after watching the way many of his brothers treated their own wives. She was lucky.

The mindset she worked so hard to build, throwing away the values she dreamed of as a little girl, the warm dreams of having a loving marriage with several kids, conversations that would seem to go on forever sprinkled with tender kisses on the forehead and warm touches that would warm her up on cold nights. She exchanged those hopes for expensive dresses and a mansion much too big for any amount of wood to warm. There were continual expensive dinners and meaningless conversations with people she wouldn't care to see ever again with fake seemingly polite smiles. These people never stopped beckoning for their service, acting like the simple action of pouring themselves tea was too much to burden their minds with.

So she was grateful, playing along with the quick pace of life they had. Dressing up quickly, perfecting the empty smile she got used to wearing on a daily basis.

“Be grateful, because you could have had it much worse” she mentally repeated to herself.

A soft squeeze of his hand tore her out of her thoughts, his brown eyes watching her patiently. He witnessed the difficulties she struggled with back then. So her silence rang louder than ever.

”We will spend two days in Birmingham and be back on our way. Tomorrow is the day of the gala, and the day after you will spend on your own matters.” He spoke quietly, reading the troubling emotions in her eyes. He always saw through the mask of neutrality he taught her how to wear like her second skin: a mutual understanding.

Her eyes slowly followed along the lines of his face, finally settling on holding eye contact. Slowly nodding, she covered his hand with her own before forcing out a small smile.

”Thank you” She responded, straightening her back before the train started slowing down before coming to a full stop.

Patting her thigh for the last time, he pulled away.

”Come on. It's time to go”

~~

After getting out of the train, Y/N watched how after stepping out her boots immediately covered in mud.

Some things never changed, she thought with a smile as the scent of smoke filled her nostrils.

”Christ” Nickolas muttered, his face twisting in disgust. Birmingham was nothing like the London they were used to, first expression of the city obnoxiously underwhelming for Winterbourne.

Standing by the road sign they waited for a moment before the designated car pulled up, halting by their feet as the driver opened the door, offering to help in packing the luggage.

Y/N seemed distraught, looking around as she immediately recognized the streets despite small differences and the fact she didn't leave even remotely close back then. A city centre it was, fair distance from Small Heath. A place she used to call home.

”Come on, get in the car” Nickolas whispered, noticing her distracted gaze, grabbing her arm lightly and nudging her towards the vehicle, bringing her out of memories thick like smoke. Looking at him she nodded, obediently getting inside before the car took them to the hotel.

One she had never been in before. This whole situation felt suffocating in ways so weird, she was barely able to look him in the eyes. Even as they moved to the building, getting all the formalities done she couldn't help but let her mind wander towards the ghosts of her past.

Loud, obnoxious laugh filled her head bringing a little smile on her red lips. One that definitely belonged to John, his eyes glimmering with mischief like most of the time. Through the eyes of imagination she saw Ada's long, dark hair she constantly complained about, sighing dramatically in a way that never ceased to make Y/N roll her eyes. Suffering from success, she used to call it, teasing her friend with whom she grew up so close.

A sound came to her ears as lift brought them to the right level, she moved seemingly on an autopilot when her husband fumbled with keys, looking for the right one.

As the door swung open she let out a silent sigh as she remembered. The memory she worked on suppressing so long caught up randomly, big, blue eyes surrounded by thick, dark eyelashes. Colour so dynamic, swiftly changing with the feeling simmering beneath his tough exterior, yet always so bright and clear when he looked at her. She felt like she saw him for the first time, despite it being nothing but her exterior shell shattering at the unwanted memories flooding back in.

Suddenly, she felt out of breath and barely an hour after checking into the hotel, she was in bed facing away from Nickolas. The wall she put up between them nearing the height of one he tried to shatter after getting to know the girl. She seemed so small as she lay on her side, every inch of her body hidden under covers. Hair scattered on the pillow, keeping his gaze away from her features.

They just got here, and he was already losing, Nickolas thought, before remembering the small detail that could shatter his reality if ease if looked into.

”Goodnight” He whispered, pressing a kiss onto her shoulder before turning away and giving her space as the lights went out.

It was only so long he could bend reality to his will, he thought, before closing his eyes and allowing Morpheus' embrace to swallow him up.

In contrast to him, Y/N didn't fall asleep once. The unknown anticipation swirled around in her stomach, pushing her even further away from the man sleeping by her side. Something was coming, and she knew it.

~~

”Do you really trust what you're saying?” Her voice came to his ears, quieter, less confident than usually she'd speak to him.

Leaning forward on his arms, he let his head drop in defeat for a moment before lifting him up. Strong, unyielding gaze meeting her worried, slightly anxious eyes.

Her position in the family and in company made her learn how to deal with emotions on her own for years.. which was never an issue. Woman could only be so vulnerable after raising that many kids and protecting them from the disgusting reality with her fragile hands and soul on her shoulder. But she managed.

So the rare vulnerability she displayed that evening, looking in her nephew's eyes was nothing short of special. The string of responsibility connecting them in ways none of his siblings would understand.

Staring blankly for a moment, he ended up nodding.

”I know, Polly.” He spoke up, his voice heavy with exhaustion and the fear he tried to bury somewhere between his ribs, to never be seen again. But it was there, alive as ever, making his heart thump in an unnatural rhythm. Reminding him of one of survival. Desperate attempts to stick to life even when the dirty earth in the tunnels tried to swallow him alive.

”You need to trust me when I say things will go back to normal. I waited for long enough.” His voice came out sharper than he'd like it to. Blue eyes soothing the damage his voice has done and Polly understood.

Being a witness to the struggles he faced on daily, responsibilities piling on him like layers of clothing, giving no space to grieve the loss of someone who was never supposed to be gone.

…and so he didn't. Instead building an empire on his bitterness and pain, trusting that… whatever was up there would provide if it was meant to be.

That day for once in his life Thomas wanted to pray.

~~

“You need to pick up your pace, Y/N. We can't afford to be late to such an event.” Nickolas snapped, his usually calm and collected demeanour dishevelled with stress as he watched time ticking away on his watch.

She didn't sleep, almost at all. Putting on the mask was more difficult than usual, having to layer the makeup on her tired face, exhausted eyes. The years of struggles managed to catch up in the nine hours she spent on trying to fall asleep. Dreamless nights and loveless days connected with the anticipation in her stomach making it impossible to close her eyes.

”What will they think of us if we show up late, Y/N?” He shot once again watching her movements with his chin higher than he usually carried.

In moments of distress Y/N saw his father in him, usually perfectly hidden away lack of spine showing through the wounds of what the perfect life did to him. Minor inconvenience making him furious.

”Put on your jacket and smoke a cigarette, Nickolas. By the time you're done I will be waiting.” She responded in a neutral way, already taught to not feed into his bitterness in such situations. Not because he was right, but rather to avoid making him cranky as he would surely ruin her already difficult evening.

Watching her with contempt for a moment, he let out a heavy breath before stepping away.

”Five minutes or you will walk there. I'm not going to be late because of your irresponsibility.” His voice faded with the distance growing between them.

Y/N sighed looking at her reflection.

A man that was never supposed to be a husband.

All eyes were on them as soon as they arrived. Y/N smiled, nodding along to the people she saw for the first time as they spoke to Nickolas. She was to not speak unless spoken to, Mr. Winterbourne taught her four years ago. Smile, look pretty and watch your husband. Be attentive and elegant at all times.

Entering the event took them about fifteen minutes with all the pleasantries Nick kept giving away to his associates. Deep down she hated it. The constant need to pretend, not a single movement one of her own.

”Mr. Winterbourne!” A voice came from behind their back as they walked into the main room. An older man with jet-black hair approached quickly, his arm wrapped around the waist of his wife. Glancing at her, they exchanged a joyful look before standing right by Y/N. “Long time no see” His voice was low, but not threatening. Something about the tall and broad man was inviting, friendly.

”Indeed, it's been a long while.” Nick responded, straightening his back before greeting the older woman, getting a hold of her hand gently and kissing the temple. ”How is life treating you, Sir?” His tone mannered and calm, just like always whenever he was in a public eye. After getting a response, he began talking about the details of the gala before the woman suddenly interrupted him.

”...and who is this beautiful woman?” She spoke completely relaxed to which Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. If she interrupted her husband or any man he was currently talking to in such a manner, she'd get severely punished if not slapped at the spot. Nicholas raised his eyebrow but quickly put on a collected exterior again.

”This is my wife, Y/N” He introduced her, slightly embarrassed that he forgot to do so in the first place. What would they think of him? The older man reflected, kissing her temple with a smile and his wife took her hand in her own.

”Oh, I see” She said, looking at the ring on her finger. ”Absolutely beautiful, how about we get something to drink while men talk about the important matters?” She suggested light-heartedly, winking at her husband who chuckled, shaking his head before giving a simple nod.

”Great idea. I will find you in just a few moments, Precious.”

The way their interactions took place made Y/N truly shocked, she's never seen such behaviour among people in their class before. Were people of Birmingham different than them?

Waiting for his approval obediently Y/N only moved when he gave her a stern nod, clearly not pleased with his own performance, yet he would never admit it.

His behaviour was different this time, she could clearly see it. He was more emotional in the wrong way, every little detail making him visibly angry.

”I’m Meredith” The seemingly fourty year old woman stated, glancing at Y/N sideways. ”You seem to love these kind of events, don't you?” She joked, seeing the way Y/N’s smile dropped as soon as they turned away from their husbands. Internally she panicked hearing the elegant woman's remark, her eyes widening with fear. ”Oh, no worries. We're on the same page… besides. They serve really good drinks, so soon enough it will be bearable.” The tone of her voice was light and amusing as she gave Y/N a little shove. Her demeanor was relaxed and open, matching her husband's which was… refreshing.

”Better get to it then” She mustered a smile in response.

To be fair, time did start passing faster as they settled by the table, slowly sipping on tasteful drinks and talking in a way that allowed Y/N feel much less comfortable than she was at first. A breath of fresh air.

”We’re local. My husband, Christopher, is the owner of several businesses passed down through the family. That's how he knows Winterbournes.” She explained eventually before leaning in closer. ”He doesn't get along well with your father in law. Tradition and peace are the only things keeping them tied together.”

Y/N listened carefully, appreciating that after a couple drinks Meredith's tongue got a bit loose. Usually she'd never hear a single detail about her husband's business or family. She wasn't family by blood, so her access to information was very restricted.

Getting lost in her thoughts again she zoned out for a second before Nickolas’ voice came to her ear from close proximity.

”This is my wife, Y/N Winterbourne.” He introduced her and it took a second to stand up, smooth out her dress before her eyes met the guests.

…and just for a second, her heart stopped, mouth slightly parting as she met the blue gaze she dreamed of for so many years.

”May we dance, Mrs. Winterbourne?” Thomas Shelby asked, standing side to side with her husband. Slightly shorter yet visibly towering over him.

For once she forgot her manners, not able to tear her eyes away from him as she gave a quick nod and without another word, he grabbed her hand pulling her towards the dance floor among other couples. Completely stiff and frozen, her vocal chords were not cooperating as she was on the verge of a panic attack.

His hands grabbed her own, setting them on his shoulders as he pulled her closer.

”Breathe” He said quietly in a husky tone as his scent almost made her faint.

guys send me some requests for little DRABBLES

Smut/angst/fluff anything!

The characters I'll write for:

• Tommy Shelby

• Lenny Miller

• Jonathan Crane

• Neil Lewis

• Robert Fischer

• Jackson Rippner

• Raymond Leon

• Jim (TDS)

etc

Can I get a request for Cillian Murphy? Angst, smut, fluff, I'm open to suggestions!

Like and comment for more please!

UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: smut, angst, comfort

A/N: I'll get back to writing more chapters soon. For now, have this oneshot. Please Interact and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

“Oh god, Jackson!” Y/n gasped as soon as she saw him through the peephole in the door. Moving as quickly as possible, she swung the door open, pouncing forward to get a hold of him.

He stood there, his breathing shallow and rugged. White button up shirt ripped on his shoulder, revealing the bleeding wound. The material surrounding it was covered in crimson red. His hair sweaty, beads dripping down his face as he barely kept his blue, cloudy eyes open.

“Y/n” he mumbled, taking a heavy step forward as he grabbed onto her shoulders. She huffed as he put his weight on her, and with some struggle they managed to both get inside as she kicked the door shut.

Hundreds and thousands of thoughts ran through her head as she helped him to the living room where he mindlessly slumped on the couch.

“Wait here” she murmured, rushing to the bathroom for the first aid kit that was quite… advanced ever since she met him. Grabbing the necessities, Y/n quickly moved back to the living room, putting it all on the table with her shaky hands. He looked barely conscious and her heart was pounding like crazy as she took his shirt off to make sure that the visible injuries were the only ones on him.

He kept mumbling something every now and then but she didn't listen, instead she focused on stopping the bleeding from his shoulder and stitching him back up.

Breathing deeply, Y/n tried her best to get her hands more steady as she did her very best to ensure he'd be… better than whatever state she found him in.

Two hours and some tears later, Jackson was settled in her own bed, wearing only briefs and breathing heavily. She wiped her face while glancing at the clock only then realising how late it was. Jackson was completely out of it, and from the look of it, he would be for several more hours because of the medicine she gave him. The medicine he needed to ensure his wound wouldn't get infected.

Y/n was aware of his job, and it was one of the biggest factors of why she decided to never let their relationship move forward. Just sex, they said before. She couldn't afford getting her heart broken.

His lips said one thing, and his actions showed another, she thought. She wrapped her arms around his waist as she hugged his back lightly, her cheek pressing to his hot skin. Only for now, it was safe to do so. He was unconscious, so he wouldn't make a fuss about it. The closeness with lack of any sexual intentions. Intimacy. Comfort.

As expected, Jackson slept for a long time before eventually waking up, a little past 7 PM the next day.

She managed to clean up her bathroom and couch from his blood, getting her apartment to become squeaky clean because of the anxiety she was feeling. Y/n tried to be productive instead of impatiently waiting at him and biting her nails.

“Y/n” He said in a hoarse, husky voice before grimacing slightly because of the dryness and pain in his throat. Hearing him, she jumped a little, clearly startled as her book fell on the floor with a thud.

“Oh shit, you scared me.” Y/n said, with a hand on her chest as she eyed him quickly before getting up to get a glass of water for him, hearing the state of his throat. “How are you feeling?” She asked quietly after handing him the glass. Her brows slightly furrowed at his unusually pale skin.

“As wonderful as I look” He replied with a scoff after drinking the water and setting the glass aside with a groan.

“You were really hurt this time.” She started quietly, fidgeting with her fingers for a moment as she kept looking at him. “You’ve been asleep for over twenty four hours, Jackson. You—you need to tell me what happened.” She says eventually, crossing her arms over her chest as her frustration grew. She knew how unhappy he was whenever she'd ask questions, and Y/n liked his presence too much to risk losing him over that. So she wouldn't ask, not usually, but this time was different. It was too big to pretend like it didn't happen.

His pale, blue eyes avoided looking directly into hers as he let out a deep breath. His frame was tense.

“Don't act stupid, you know damn well what I do for a living, sweetheart.” He replied. “It's not always all rainbows and flowers.” The sarcasm smoothly made its way down his tongue, as always, seemed like. Y/n got used to the fact Jackson was fluent in this particular thing.

Hearing his tone her body tensed in a combative manner. Squeezing her first, she pointed at him with the other, shaking hand.

“Don't you fucking dare talk to me this way after I spent my whole night stitching you up, preventing you from bleeding out, and barely closing my eyes to make sure you were bloody alive!” Her voice shook slightly every now and then as she tried to stand her ground against him. “It's YOUR work to do… all that, but is it my work to always stitch you up afterwards? Why the hell do you come here since I don't deserve even a brief explanation?” She demanded to know, looking intently at him as she wrapped her arms around herself for some, much needed at the moment, comfort.

Jackson tilted his head slightly, raising his chin as he finally looked her in the eyes. His facial expression was impossible to read, as always.

But the one thing she was perfect at, was reading his eyes. Ever since day one, Jackson would always try to avoid eye contact in such situations. Even though his stare never failed before, and he was going through life thinking he mastered it.

Well, maybe he did. Y/n was the only one who saw more in his bright, storm and tempest filled eyes. So he'd purposely put a wall between the two of them. She knew him too well to believe in the theatrics he was so prone to use on people.

“Your apartment was the closest place I could think of at the moment. It's not that deep.” His voice was low and emotionless, husky from the lack of usage in the last twenty four hours but he managed to keep up the eye contact for just a few seconds before looking away.

Yet, it hurt her. Sighing deeply, she shook her head and made her way to the kitchen as Jackson slowly got up from her bed.

Looking around for his pants, he ran a hand through his hair with a groan. The one thing he could admit to himself was that seeing disappointment in her eyes wasn't… nice. It didn't feel good.

“So… when can I see you now?” He asked casually, trying to break the tension after a couple minutes, thinking that she just gave up asking him questions like always, after he'd shut her down.

The silence hung in the air for a longer moment, charged with unsaid words and buzzing emotions. Y/n was tired, visibly and mentally.

“Don't come here anymore, Jack. I can't do it.”

A quiet voice came from the kitchen, making his heart stop for a moment and his eyes to widen. Turning around he walked up to her, leaning on the counter.

“Come on, you're not mad at me, are you?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, not understanding the vulnerable expressions on her face, which she never hid. Y/n wasn't scared to be vulnerable with her feelings around him, which was always a source of conflicted emotions within himself.

With a resigned sigh, she put the knife and veggies down, looking up at him.

“No, it's… it's more than that. I just can't do what you're expecting of me.” She started, shaking her head a little. “Just—just fuck you, and then, then take care of you and never care enough to ask. I can't do that. It's—it's not me, I'm sorry.” The way her body language changed, the vulnerability and raw hurt in her voice made the annoyingly painful feeling gnaw at this one spot in his chest. He didn't know what to say for a moment before turning around and walking a couple steps through her living room. Anger and confusion grew in his head, as the only real emotions he knew so well. Hand tugging on his hair as he let out a humourless laugh.

“You don't mean it. We're just—just arguing again.” He said, trying to convince either her or himself, but the feeling of dread already settled between his ribs. His voice came out louder than intended, accusing even.

As the response didn't come, he turned around again facing her. Taking a couple fast steps he winced at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? We talked about it before, I— fucking can't tell you anything!” He said with sharp anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Jackson, I said I get it! I just can't do what you want me to!” She exclaimed, her voice an octave higher than usually at his sudden outburst. She felt panicked with what was happening. With the idea of never seeing him again, and with what she was feeling at the moment. The feelings accompanying her were much more complex than she'd like them to be.

“Then why are you so fucking dramatic about it!” He continued pacing back and forth, not handling the situation very well, or picking up on the irony of his words.

Y/n raised her eyebrows with a scoff.

“Me? I'm just breaking it off, Jackson. You are the one yelling at me and running around my living room.” She pointed out, keeping the pain hidden away. For now.

He stopped in his tracks immediately as she called him out on the frantic behaviour.

“I wouldn't if you weren't like… this!” He spat out, his blue eyes filled with coldness and anger. The sudden motion as he swung his arm, caused the stitches to rip and blood started dripping down his arm. “Fuck!”

Y/n’s eyes widened immediately.

“Jack, calm down! Your arm!” She squealed, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise. Her hand grasped his bigger one as she pulled him to the bathroom, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. It was a fairly small room, with not much space after he'd fill it out with his wide frame, so without a second thought she slumped on his lap.

He sat here wordlessly, the combative facial expression still decorating his handsome face as she worked on the wound, cleansing it before getting to the stitching.

He didn't make a sound until the last stitch, when he suddenly let out a loud hiss at the particularly painful movement of the needle in his skin.

“Sorry” she said quietly out of habit. “You need to stop thrashing like a wild animal for the next few days.” Y/n added, concerned with his state.

Jackson scoffed, tensing as he looked in her eyes accusingly.

“Don't tell me what to do. You dumped me.” His voice was low and grumbly, still carrying some anger in it, but the way he put it made Y/n let out a giggle uncontrollably. His gaze softened slightly. He sounded like an offended child.

“As far as I know, we weren't together, Jackson.” Her voice was more playful than anything as she finished the stitching, putting the tools aside. Caressing the skin on his arm, Y/n sighed.

Jackson kept looking at her with a lump forming in his throat. After a minute he broke the silence.

“I don't know what you want me to say, but you won’t hear…” He started before clearing his throat, unsure of what words to use. Of how to explain.”—hear THAT from me, Y/n. I just can't.” He said quietly, his hands holding her hips, thumbs rubbing little circles on her soft skin. The silence settled in the air again, as she felt he wasn't finished just yet. Just needed some more time to recollect his words. “...but I don't want to not see you anymore.” He sounded weaker than ever, more… vulnerable. The trait she wanted to see in him so badly, making her heart soften in an instant.

Feeling the surge of hope rushing through her veins, she raised her hands to his face, tilting his head up so her eyes would meet his. Her eyes were– bright again, Jackson noticed subconsciously.

“You don't want to lose me.” She stated with confidence, knowing what he meant. Jackson neither denied nor confirmed, sighing deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Say it.” She demanded, caressing his skin and as soon as he looked again, searching his blue eyes for anything that would show her she was wrong. She didn't find anything.

He took a deep breath, his fingers digging into her skin harder.

“I don't want to lose you.” He repeated, sounding like the words almost drowned him, but he knew it was a turning point. Jack knew she was – patient and understanding. It would be enough. They stared at each other for a longer moment before she touched his cheek with a little chuckle.

Seeing her eyes so shiny and cheeks blushed, Jackson regretted he didn't say it sooner. It took a lot, but it was worth it. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against hers.

“What's so funny?” He scoffed playfully, looking at her lips with a deep breath.

Y/n leaned in, kissing him in a way that took his breath away for a mere moment making him forget who they were. Who he was. A way that she wouldn't dare to kiss him before.

“Stubborn man” she let out with a sigh after pulling away.

Only then did she get up, pulling him back to the bedroom deciding that she'd force him to rest if he wouldn't agree right away.

***

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/n wiped her face with a yawn before she noticed he was awake. The admirably blue eyes looked at her halfway open with a smirk, and for a second she got mad at him for never staying the whole night before. The view was wonderful.

“Hi” She said with a chuckle, making him raise his eyebrow in amusement.

“Hi,” He replied, pulling her closer. Her dishevelled state made her even more attractive than usual, in a completely different way. It was a way that Jackson never looked at other women before which was a little scary, but well. He was way too sleepy to think about it now. With his own eyes barely open and vulnerable as never before, he let out a chuckle. It felt so easy at the moment, like he wasn't a killer without any actual identity. Like he had a chance for a life with the beautiful woman by his side.

Stretching with a groan he shifted to the side, being fairly careful with his injured shoulder. Jackson's hand landed on Y/n’s bare hip as her shirt shifted up, revealing her pale skin. She opened her eyes again, glancing at him as she heard the throaty purr coming from his mouth.

“Jackson” She warned with a giggle, knowing his intentions too well. “You're–” She started, but before she'd manage to finish, he flipped her on her back, hanging over her like a thundercloud. “–injured.” Her voice was defeated with an undertone of humour at his mischievous doings.

“Still healthy enough.” He replied, leaning down and grazing his nose over her neck. After two years of seeing only her, he wasn't able to prevent associating her scent with something– familiar.

Home

Pressed so tightly against her, Jackson felt the familiar stirring in his lower stomach, making him sigh deeply. His warm breath wrapped itself around her skin, making her shiver with delight. He leaned down, biting onto her neck lightly as his hands began stripping her of the pajama pants she was wearing.

She let it happen, until she didn't. Her smaller hand getting a hold of his wrist.

“In my way.” She said, turning her head to meet his eyes. “My way or not at all. Your stitches will probably burst again if I agree to do it the usual way.” She said with a voice that allowed no opposition. That was a voice he rarely heard, but the feisty look in her eyes was clear. She wouldn't bend under his will because she cared about his health.

With a loud, dramatic sigh he slumped on the bed, giving up. Seeing it, Y/n chuckled, raising her brows. Pointing at the tent in his underwear, she asked.

“So you need help with that or not?” Her voice was full of amusement and clear lighthearted mockery. Jackson's eyes immediately shifted to her face.

“Don't push it before I change my mind” he grumbled with a hidden smirk, making her laugh out louder as she got up, pulling her underwear down all the way before she straddled his hips.

Her soft hand began travelling down his chest, tracing every inch of his skin, appreciating the masculine firmness to him. The sensation of his muscles against her delicate fingers.

The air in the room immediately shifted, and Jackson's expression changed. His brows slightly furrowed, as he watched her actions. He was clearly confused, never touched with such intention before in his life. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, almost expecting pain to come any second now.

Violence was all he knew. She understood it, but it nevertheless broke her heart a little bit.

Looking him in the eyes, she leaned forward, her lips following the path her fingers travelled. She left little kisses on each scar and imperfection she encountered.

Jackson wasn't sure what he felt. Whether he liked it or not, he was more confused than ever before. That's why when she reached the V on his lower stomach, still kissing, he rose up slightly.

“Don't” he said quietly. The atmosphere was so intimate and vulnerable, that for once in his life, he didn't feel up to being pleasured in such a way. He already let her do too much, Jackson thought.

Y/n looked up, meeting his bright eyes with her own. The tension and– fear on his face was visible for the first time since she ever met him.

Nodding lightly, she came back up, kissing him passionately as her hands worked on his underwear, pulling it down and stroking his hard length. Deep groans pushed past his lips with each move as his eyes fell shut. He looked more beautiful than ever, Y/n thought seeing him then.

Only the sensation of her warmth engulfing his manhood brought Jackson back, making him open his eyes and letting his jaw fall open.

“Fuck” he gasped, as she leaned back, supporting herself by holding onto his stomach, not forgetting about his injury.

His hands gripped onto her hips. Still sitting up, Jackson tried moving her on top of his hips to get her to move faster, but Y/n wasn't having any of it. Pushing him back, she leaned forward and captured his lips in a searing kiss while she sensually moved. She was in no rush. Y/n enjoyed every sensation the connection between them was giving her. The slow pace was making him more sensitive to their surroundings than the usual frantic rhythm. The sound of her quiet sighs and whimpers filled his ears like the most beautiful melody. The way her face gave away the all-consuming bliss she experienced from how he felt inside her, but also from how… close they were. Jackson felt like he was slipping. The situation was getting out of control as his mind started spiralling into the vulnerability, which he desperately didn't want to happen.

Looking up, he noticed Y/n watching his face intently, her mouth slightly open as she moved to her own rhythm. Her breasts swayed with each movement before she leaned down, kissing all over his neck while her hands travelled around his collarbones, caressing his skin.

Wordlessly Jackson's bigger hand slowly grabbed hers, moving it up towards his throat, wrapping it suggestively with a certain look in his eyes. Y/n knew.

Of course she did.

With a quiet sigh, she shook her head lightly, moving upwards to his cheek, the gentle touch sending shockwaves down his spine as she watched him with care and gentleness he never experienced.

Covering her hand with his own, Jackson sat up lightly, moving her closer. He didn't fight it anymore.

“You're so beautiful” He breathed out, wrapping his arm around her waist and capturing her lips in a deep, sensual dance as she caressed his hair. They both seemed to get lost in the sensations, drowning in each other's presence without any will or need to seek saving.

As Y/n squeezed her eyes, her body tensing on top of his, Jackson knew she was coming. Leaning his forehead on her collarbone, he followed right after. For the first time in his life, he realised that the way she held him felt even better than the most amazing orgasm he ever experienced.

…and just like that, Jackson knew he’d stay the night, and countless more.

Because even if he couldn't name or say it, he knew the reason why he would keep coming back.

***

Taglist: @lau219 @xsweetcatastrophe

Lost On You

Robert Fischer x Reader

PART 1

6.5k words

A/N: sorry it took so long but it's here, life's been busy! The story will be written in a little different style, as I got inspired by old English novels. The point of view will be switching frequently to give a bigger outlook. Let me know what you think!

Money. They say it's something acquired and that it doesn't bring happiness, but ninety eight percent of your living doesn't come from nowhere, right? We don't get to choose workplaces based on wellbeing or fun, at least not everyone has the privilege to do so. Money. Nothing else would keep me here for so long, Y/N thought.

She couldn't help but ponder on her choices, driving in an automatic state of mind, doing it out of habit and barely paying attention. It's a surprise that I never crashed, the woman thought to herself chuckling under her breath.

Glancing at the buildings and, still sitting behind the wheel of her car - a white, six-year-old Honda Civic, as she asks herself every morning: Why do I still work here? Why do I get out of bed every morning, ten minutes before my alarm, when I'm already losing to time every single day, stuck in traffic jams and still being late almost everyday? Why have I been doing this for three years instead of two.. at most?

For money and practice, that's obvious, her own, bitter at times mind replies with slight annoyance.

This is the third year of her toiling at Fischer Morrow and Y/N had no idea how time has flown by so quickly. At the age of twenty-three years old and since she started college, FM has been her first and last place of employment. She got a paid internship in October of her first year, which seemed too good to be true. Yet here she was. Honestly? It wasn't a feat or success at all, and Y/N only understood that with time. Her raging headache was slowly growing with each thought crossing her mind. It was.. a daily thing for her, her mind being on overdrive.

For centuries, there has been a belief at all types of universities that freshmen never get internships, however, this is just not true, not entirely because the truth lies somewhere else. They don't get internships because they DON'T WANT them. Yes, they don't. It's a pain in the ass. First, you have to prove yourself to get one, and then you have to immediately approach everything very seriously and for little to no money.

You have to be responsible: don't waste your weekends partying. Your mind needs to always be focused on studying and working. That's why it's better to start later. There's time for everything in life, and instead of partying, meeting people, and enjoying student life, I got busy working. I take it seriously. SERIOUSLY.

However, not everything is so bad. Over time, such actions bring tangible benefits. I have more experience than other students and I know that I will have no problems finding a job. But I also have a good salary: better than if I interned at any competitor company. FM pays me more than students are usually paid, and the salary increases with the duration of the internship, so after almost three years… I was fine. Just fine.

I'm renting an apartment of my own, I have my own “almost new” car, and well. I never need to borrow any money from anyone. It's a bad habit that I absolutely don't want to ever have.

So what keeps me going here is fucking money, Y/N eventually decides as she gets out of the car, shutting the door close and wrapping the coat around herself a little tighter, since the weather wasn't the dreamiest. It was autumn after all.

Walking through the company parking lot, she made her way towards the main entrance. Her clicking heels were the only sound around besides the raging wind. As she passed through the door, she saw a very familiar woman.

Vicky, was sitting by the receptionist desk writing something down until she heard the door swinging open.

Vicky looked up to see Y/N as she lightly smiled. Her makeup was a little too intense for the workplace, but it had become what she was known for. People liked to talk about Vicky in less flattering ways than necessary, which… maybe was another reason why Y/N grew to like her so much. Going with the flow tended to feel like an itch and, well, who liked that damn nagging sensation? Nobody. Clearly.

“Early as ever” The redhead said with a chuckle, her bold-red lips stretching into a smirk.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a sigh, raising an eyebrow.

“...and good morning to you too. I guess” She replied, smoothing out her hair, which of course didn't want to fully lay down, slightly waving at the ends. Y/N leaned slightly over the desk. “Is the witch here already?” she asked in a quiet tone, looking around to make sure nobody caught her words.

“Which one? There's plenty” Vicky whispered back with a chuckle, seeing the unimpressed look.

Unable to contain her laughter, Y/N covered her mouth to make the snort she let out as inaudible as possible.

“The Italian one” She replied.

The Fischer Morrow company is owned by Italian-American entrepreneur Maurice Fischer. In order to work there, you need to constantly improve your language skills. Knowledge of Italian was one of the criteria to receive the internship. Even though I'm only an intern and my Italian is at a high level, I also have to attend lessons once a week. They are paid for by Fischer himself. This is another bonus of interning or working for this company in my opinion.

Free Italian language lessons. If only the Italian teacher wasn’t so terrible.

“Girl, I'm a receptionist. How am I supposed to know?” Vicky says with a sigh, followed by a shrug. Obviously she was disappointed with how little people in the company communicated with her despite being the first point of contact for anyone who entered Fischer Morrow. She was a little nosey by nature.

Y/N sighed deeply before straightening her back, grabbing her purse, and heading to the elevator with a heart pounding in her chest. She loved the Italian language, but simply despised the current teacher.

She's demanding and bitter, plus treats me like a fucking ten year old. She tends to leave us homework, which I rarely get on time because of the amount of work I have. She's thrilled every single time, needless to say.

“Y/N!” Vicky yelled out, as she rushed towards the closing elevator doors, managing to stop them on time with her arm. “You-know-who is calling us to the conference room. Not only us but most departments.” She said, trying to catch her breath in the meantime.

“What for?” Y/N asked with surprise.

Mr. Fischer was not someone who'd usually make announcements. He was demanding and reasonably kind but his expectations towards his workers were always high. Whether anyone liked it or not, he'd make a drastic change and expect people to get used to it immediately.

“Who knows, but… I'm telling you in case.” She said, giving Y/N THE look.

She immediately understood, nodding gracefully and letting out a deep breath as the door closed.

Walking through the corridor, Y/N noticed several workers heading IMMEDIATELY to the conference room.

That's sooner than expected, she thought with a sarcastic chuckle.

Caroline, the head of advertising, walked like she owned the whole building in her obscenely high heels, barely keeping from breaking her ankles as her hips swayed beneath the tight skirt.

Oh my fucking god, please not her. Anyone but her.

“Hey, Y/N” She said in a fake sweet tone that made Y/N contain an eyeroll. “Did you hear that we all have a meeting? I wonder why. Maybe something happened? Maybe I will get a promotion?!” She started babbling without giving her colleague a chance to speak at all. It wasn't anything new about her, that's just the way Caroline was.

“What's that?” Y/N asked, pointing at the hard cover in Caroline's hand, trying to smoothly change the topic.

The taller woman glanced at her own grip, like she didn't know herself before smiling once again.

“Oh, it's a calendar. I thought that I should look, you know, busy and smart since Fischer will be there.” She explained with such pride, causing Y/N to internally cringe.

Oh god, I sighed inwardly. Not that I consider myself an expert on human behaviour, but this is probably way beneath my dignity, or I haven't soaked the corporate dress code in yet.

“He'll probably start whining again and ask obvious questions.” Y/N murmured under her breath, barely listening to Caroline and Marie, another department head, who suddenly appeared by her side.

With a fucking calendar tucked under her armpit.

They immediately started talking about Vicky from the reception, feeling the need to comment on everything about her, apparently.

The boss always asks strangely simple and at the same time uncomfortable questions. He is an old-school man and often does not understand what we do. You need to explain to him the mechanisms of how some of the departments function and, despite appearances, this can be difficult. Caroline can't recall the details in her head, and Marie, in turn, can't explain how it works. That's probably why they work together. They must complement each other. But this is not a reason to discredit the boss. He wouldn't be where he is today if he weren't smart in some way? Right? Or maybe it's just my naivete, because when I look at my colleagues who pretend to be professional, hold old calendars in their hands and call the reception girl a plastic doll while holding high positions, I start to doubt it. I have the impression that the higher the position in this company, the worse the intellect and intelligence.

“But you like her, right Y/N? Can't blame you though, coming in late so often and knowing the receptionist well enough to make sure she doesn't tell on you must come in handy.” Marie said in such a fake kind way that well that annoyed Y/N more than she'd like it to.

It was supposed to sting and it did, but Marie is not my boss and all she can do is talk. I have nothing against her, but her fanatical approach to work can be tiring. Marie doesn't understand that not everyone finds her job the love of his life. By the way, I wonder how her husband feels in this arrangement, knowing that she is cheating on him with her job

Even our boss, whom I hate as much as the Italian teacher, isn't that fanatical. Another witch. My nemesis.

Katherina

She is mean and annoying, but at the same time has a lot of knowledge and experience. Sometimes a nice word will slip from her lips but it barely comes out of her throat, accompanied by THAT grimace and her praise sounds artificial from ANY distance. She doesn't have a sense of humour and is a cunning bitch. Calculating like no other and often ruthless. She always gets what she wants, and is one of the people who have the ability to approach the CEO and talk about budget in such a way ensuring she will always get the largest of all departments. Katherina is a real business bitch.

“Let's just get going” Y/N said, ripping herself out of the thoughts, turning around and slowly walking into the conference room which was by now filled with people.

We took our places by the humongous table in the middle, impatiently waiting on what was to come.

Everyone wonders what this meeting is for and quiet whispers fill the room. However, when Mr. Fischer appears with a serious face, everyone falls silent. We know right away that what he wants to tell us will not be pleasant.

Our boss is an older and slightly mannered man, with a specific sense of humour. Always dressed in a suit and a white shirt, he creates an aura of inaccessibility around him and immediately, at first glance, commands respect.

I don't like talking to him in private, although he once mentioned that he likes me and even loves my work style. To this day, I don't know how he knows what I'm doing, but it’s not important. I guess he wanted to let me know that he still has his finger on the pulse of even the smallest details.

I must admit, it's very encouraging to hear such praise from the CEO himself, but I still don't like talking to him.

The older man sits down in his usual seat and opens his notes. He looks up at all of us and sighs.

“Ladies and gentlemen” He begins almost like he was starting a holy mass in a church, and as if by an innate reflex I want to fold my hands in a prayer, even though I am not a Christian by any means. “...because I wanted to inform you that I will soon be planning to retire…” he finishes the first sentence in a weak tone, and the whole room is filled with a murmur of quiet conversations and surprised voices.

“Yes, yes, I'm so old that it's time to get going..” he adds and laughs briefly, while no one else has the courage to do so. “...and you're probably wondering who will take over the position in our company after me, well... “ He makes an appropriate pause to build tension.

“My older son Robert is coming back to us.” he finishes, and the room begins to boil, but not from words, but from employees squirming in their chairs.

They all look at each other as one and hear single words of surprise. The faces of some of them are not very optimistic, not to mention disgusted, but the boss quickly silences the noise with a loud clearing of his throat.

“...and although I know the circumstances in which he disappeared from the company, the most important thing now is that he returns and will take my position, but only in a few months, when I will re-implement and improve his training" he adds, and my thoughts wander towards my first days at work.

Despite the lack of interest Y/N had in the topic of Mr. Fishers’ son, she got an earful of it on her way back to the office.

Quiet conversations filled the corridor as people whispered about Robert Fischer, who apparently got kicked out a little time before Y/N got the job, so they never met. Not that she regretted such a sequence of events, as he sounded like an immature person lacking professional approach in work, and having more interest in women. Not the best colleague to have around.

Not long after, Maurice Fischer sighed deeply, gesturing to us that we could leave, so without waiting, Y/N made her way out of the crowded room. Ignoring Caroline's voice calling her name, she made her way through the corridor and chose the stairs instead of the elevator this time. It was faster.

Closing the door behind her back, Y/N closed her eyes for a second with a sigh, feeling relieved. Finally peace.

Sitting in her chair, she fixed her hair with a swift movement, putting it in a neat ponytail as her phone rang.

Deep sigh pushed past her lips once again, as she saw Maurice Fischer's name on the screen.

“Yes, Sir?” She responded in a professional tone without missing a beat.

“Y/N can you swing by my office in twenty minutes? I'd like to discuss something.” His voice was tense, and it didn't sound very promising.

God, I hope I didn't fuck something up, she thought.

“Of course. I'll be there, Mr. Fischer.” Her eyes shifted around the desk as she nodded unknowingly, before putting the phone down with a click.

Now, she was stressed, but it didn't mean that she could get away with the work that was waiting.

Without wasting another minute, her fingers started pressing on the keyboard at a quick pace, filling up the documents from her files, making sure no mistakes were made.

Twenty minutes passed sooner than she'd wished for them to, and soon enough Y/N was quickly walking through the corridor, holding tightly onto the file and her phone, typing away email after email before a certain impact caused her to almost drop the phone on the ground.

With a gasp she looked up, seeing a… young man with brown, neat hair and piercing blue irises.

His eyes widened for some reason as he let out a gasp.

“Katherina?” He said in a low, raspy voice which was filled with… something that Y/N couldn't quite put her finger on.

Quickly fixing up her facial expression, she cleared her throat, slightly shaking her head.

“No, no… I'm Y/N. You must have taken me for someone else.” Her voice was confident, not showing the confusion in the tiniest bit. Chin raised proudly, as she didn't shy away from eye contact, bravely grazing into his eyes.

The man blinked a couple times, sizing her up before letting out a breath as he nodded, smoothing out his suit jacket.

“Forgive me, it's… my first day today. I must have been a little confused.” He said slowly, carefully choosing his words as he straightened his back. Buttoning his jacket up one button higher, he stretched out his hand towards Y/N.

“I'm Enzo” His voice was smooth like butter, which already caused Y/N to… dislike the man in front of her.

Nevertheless, it was only proper to shake his hand in such circumstances.

“Y/N” Her voice came off kind but distanced, showing off how disinterested she was in having any longer conversations. “Unfortunately I'm in a rush, so I must go. I hope the rest of your day will pass with… less confusion.”

After the words left her mouth, she passed by him like a wind, leaving behind a trail of perfumes in the air and smirk on his lips. She seemed… challenging.

***

When I reached my floor after meeting the boss and went into my office, the girls almost immediately showed up right after me.

“So what did he want? What did he want?” They asked one after another.

“Nothing, he asked about my Italian classes.” I shrugged and they looked at me like I'm an alien.

“About Italian?” Caroline asked, slightly… deflated and confused.

“No way,” Marie murmured with annoyance.

Of course they immediately sniff out gossip.

“Yep, he asked how my teacher is and that's it.” My voice slightly bored as I looked at them, silently wanting them both to leave.

They fell silent and glanced at me and then at each other.

“Weird” said Caroline, and began to think hard about something. Still in my office, if I may add.

“Weird,” Marie repeated after her.

“So, what do you think about this Robert guy coming back?” I'm asked, because Marie and Caroline have been working here longer and probably knew him.

“Oh come on, did you see how all the girls started drooling?” Caroline asked with a smirk followed by a chuckle.

“Well, I saw what a stir it caused.” replied, sorting out the paper sheets on my desk before looking up. “That's why I'm asking.”

“He’s a womaniser, a rake, and quite the seducer,” Marie said confidently.

“Not you saying that! I thought you two were friends!” Caroline imitated her and nudged Marie in the arm with a loud giggle, covering her mouth like a schoolgirl.

“Oh come on, we had lunch together in the community kitchen because he happened to come by, and now you're saying we were friends.” Marie said indignantly with her brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Admit it, he was hitting on you” Caroline laughed at her.

"You're stupid," Marie continued grumbling and stuck out her tongue, laughing teasingly, "Admit it, you were the one who had your eye on him."

“Stupid, I've already been with Tyler, come on, stop talking nonsense, I don't want such insinuations” Caroline said, becoming more serious as her eyes widened, shifting between me and Marie.

“Okay” I said to end the argument. “I still don't understand the Robert phenomenon, can you explain it to me?”

“The Robert Fischer phenomenon cannot be explained, you have to see it yourself” Caroline stated and waved her hand at me with a smirk. “It was enough for the boss to say his name and you saw what was happening in the room?” She pushed further, proving her point.

I just nodded my head in the affirmative and Marie quickly filled in the rest.

“All the girls get wet when they see him, at least the ones who remember him.” Marie said quieter, leaning towards me with her eyes widening.

“Well, he's that handsome? Charming?” I ask further, getting slightly frustrated with not understanding the big deal. There were plenty of handsome men working in Fischer Morrow.

They nodded affirmatively, shrugging lightly. “The CEO mentioned that he's his older son, which means he has a younger one too, right?” I asked.

“Oh, yes” Caroline sighed and waved her hand dismissively “Enzo is even more of a freeloader than Robert. He studied at the Academy of Fine Arts.” She responded, and… that was all I needed to know.

“Oh no” I dramatically stuck my hand out with a chuckle.

“I guess I don't have to tell you what kind of guy it is” Caroline winked before starting to laugh.

“No, no, thanks,” I shook my head disapprovingly.

My brother also studied at the Academy of Fine Arts and although I love him more than anything in my life, I know exactly what kind of person he is. He lives for alcohol, parties and has no principles. He gets up when he's had enough sleep, talks to people when he thinks he needs it and doesn't care who he sleeps with. Only art resides in his heart and next to it there is no room for any woman or man - if he were gay, which he isn't - but there is plenty of that room in his bed. Every night. For any pretty girl he sets his mind to. A typical visual person. He likes big tits, blonde hair and a bit of weirdness. The last girl he spent the night with in my apartment had half of her body tattooed. He is fascinated by tattoos.

In one word: Artist.

Caroline and Marie laughed loudly, leaving my office, and I sat down at my desk, the topic of Robert Fischer and his little brother no longer interested me.

I turned on my computer and started replying to a dozen or so emails and that's how I spent the rest of my shift.

***

Coming in another day wasn't easier at all, the weather getting WORSE, causing Y/N to give up on wearing heels that day, as she preferred to keep her legs intact rather than get hurt.

Walking into the building, like always, she looked around for Vicky who was sitting by the desk.

“Y/N!” She hissed suddenly.

"What?" I asked surprised, coming up closer to the desk as I set my purse down, looking for a hand balm.

“Witch” Vickie replied and grimaced as she did so, letting Y/N know that the teacher was already impatient and annoyed because of her being late and that Vicky had no idea what the other woman was doing here.

When sudden realisation hit, she barely restrained herself from hitting herself in the forehead.

“God! Wednesday!” A panicked whisper pushed past her lips. “I have Monday's Italian lesson due today. I completely forgot. Please, occupy her for a second.” She whispered pleadingly and still almost silently, knowing that the door to the room where the teacher was was open and that she could probably hear the conversation if she tried hard enough.

“Okay” after a minute of silence Vicky gave her a nod “...but hurry up. I don't want her to turn me into a frog.” She snorted a short laugh and covered her mouth with her hand.

“I'll just take my jacket off, and open my office. Then I'm ready.” Y/N replied again quietly and ran towards the right office wing.

She quickly stripped off her coat and grabbed the notebook and pen, hurrying back to the reception desk. Just before the door to the hall, she smoothed down her black dress, hair and entered quietly.

“Buongiorno” She greeted, but to her surprise, there was no one inside. Looking around and coming in deeper only did I notice them.

At a small conference table she was sitting accompanied by the guy I bumped into outside a few days ago. The handsome, very much my type, weird Enzo.

Taking advantage of the fact she was still not visible to them, Y/N smiled lightly to herself, a shiver running down her spine.

I wonder what he's doing here? She thought.

Both of them, busy talking, barely noticed Y/N’s entrance, especially… older teacher. If she could, she would melt under the pressure of his gaze, like ice cream in the sun.

It wasn't surprising seeing the effect he had on most women, but the situation was embarrassing to say the least, because she was about twenty years older than him.

They only stopped their oh-so-nice chat when Y/N cleared her throat and sat down at the table.

They both looked at her, the woman with distaste, and Fischer in a way that made Y/N feel like she was completely naked.

“God, Mother Nature or other creator of all existence, what a look!” She thought to herself before wondering more and more intensely what the boss’ younger son was doing here.

“Buongiorno,” the teacher greeted finally, while Enzo only started looking at the younger woman even more insistently. Sigh.

I glanced at him. He was dressed in a navy suit, white shirt, sitting squarely across from me, with his legs crossed, his ankle resting on his knee. He was looking straight at me the whole time. A shiver ran down my spine again and I couldn't stop or resist it in any way. His gaze so insistent, but also… intriguing. He was clearly the type who knows exactly how to look at a woman to intimidate her. My gaze shifted at my notes, as I started trying not to glance at him again.

I felt a little embarrassed and completely intimidated. I immediately remember the warmth of his hand and his smooth voice as I saw him the last time I saw him. It was a nice thought.

No matter how hard I tried, I could still feel his eyes on me. I knew he was staring at me, but I almost never let myself get provoked so I tried not to glance or show him that his gaze had any effect on me.

Turned out that the teacher noticed it as well and was.. probably jealous of his attention? This whole situation was so odd, that I had no idea what to do.

The older woman straightened her back, clearing her throat like I did a couple moments ago and ostentatiously shoved the attendance list under his nose so that he wouldn't stare at me anymore.

"Please sign," she said to him sweetly.

Interesting. Are they on first name terms? Yeah, right. Who wouldn't want to be on first name terms with a guy like that?

I glanced at him again, starting to secretly observe what he was doing, and without taking his eyes off me, he picked up a pen and casually signed the list, followed by pushing it away from him as if it were something unnecessary.

I looked away again, pretending to look for something in my notebook, and he rested his elbows on the conference table and leaned toward me.

“Buongiorno, Y/N. I didn't know I'd have the honor of taking classes with you.” He spoke in pure Italian with an accent that his teacher probably envied.

I stared at him in surprise for a moment.

But how? Is he going to attend classes with me? Will the CEO's younger son also work in the company? The CEO didn't mention anything!

“Oh, so you know each other?” The teacher asked pleasantly, but her artificiality gave her away quickly, trying to mask her displeasure at the fact that he knew me and on top of that, said it was an honor.

“Yes, we met a few days ago.” I answered her briefly, which was enough to cause the displeased grimace on her face, as she failed to cover it with a fake smile.

…Which made her look like a frog that got run over.

“Robert will be attending the classes with you, the CEO asked for it.” Mrs Conner explained, seeing the questioning look in my eyes.

In the meantime Robert pulled out the worksheets and started arranging them into two piles. One for me, one for him.

…and that's when I realised.

Wait, who? What Robert? My mind raced to the moment he walked in on me earlier, and I could swear that he introduced himself as Enzo, right?

I wondered, my eyes narrowed before I swiftly pulled the list of names closer to me a bit too quickly. He introduced himself as Enzo!

That's when I heard his soft snort and for some reason I just knew he was making fun of me.

Under the date of today's class I was listed and of course not any Enzo, but… Robert Fischer.

A womaniser, a pick-up artist, and... as it turns out, also a liar.

The Boss' elder son.

The man who was supposed to become my boss so very soon, already fucking up the first impression.

Why do I immediately judge him very badly and assume that he has a nasty character? Well, after what I heard from Caroline and Marie and after how he charmed me, pretending to be someone else.. I can't lie, it's a HORRIBLE first expression!

Even seeing him makes my assumptions clear, it was visible to the naked eye for what pleasures of life he was brought into this world. With such beauty and manner, you don't sit in an office, you lie in bed with women who push themselves there, one after another.

At that moment I immediately understood the ‘Robert Fischer phenomenon’ my colleagues told me about.

I sighed and signed the list without a word, because I didn't even know what to say to him. Thank you? Besides, I had zero intentions for pleasantries after he decided to lie to me after seeing me for the first time. That's what I hated the most, dishonest people.

It annoyed me that he is a man who is absolutely my type, in terms of looks, I couldn’t deny that, but in terms of character, well, he leaves A LOT to be desired, and that's probably why his behaviour intimidated me so much. I felt like an idiot.

“Have you been learning Italian for a long time?” he asked in Italian with a sly smile. Piercing blue eyes scanning my face, looking for… a reaction perhaps.

I glanced at him and he was still staring at me. He was doing it in a way that he knew was making me feel uncomfortable. He was being pushy and rude. A caveman-like show off in a rather unsophisticated way, that I've caught his eye and that he was interested in me for a reason. It was awful.

“It depends,” I answered, also in Italian, looking down at my notes.

“On what?” He pressed further, making me want to roll my eyes so hard they'd just roll out of my damn skull.

“How long is ‘long’ for you?” I answered the question with a question and glanced at the teacher.

Still arranging worksheets.

"How long have you been studying?" His voice became more.. annoyed which gave me some unknown satisfaction. Smiling sweetly, I looked into his eyes with my chin turned up.

“Ten years” I’ve said with honesty in my tone, remembering how, when I was a little girl, I forced my parents to teach me my first lesson.

Italian was not a popular language in the States.

“Ten years?” Robert repeats with a surprise.

I didn't answer, not understanding what was so strange about it, and I had zero will to dwell on why HE was surprised. “After so many years you should already speak with an accent and be above C1.” He added arrogantly, leaning back in his chair which made me scoff.

“And you? How much do you study?” I asked in response without soaring him a single glance.

“Me?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Well, technically it was obvious for most of the people here, but why would I give him the satisfaction?

From birth, I assumed.

“So what? Only C1? After forty years?” I mocked with a snort, causing the teacher to open her wrinkly eyes slightly wider at the exchange, as I insinuated that he was not only stupid, but also a forty year old man.

Obviously, he wasn't that age and I was fully aware. If he was thirty, I'd be surprised. I also knew that there are C2 level lessons with a native speaker in the company, but it still made me scoff.

A couple seconds of silence got interrupted as he snorted derisively. I glanced at Robert, catching him staring at me with a stupid smile on his pink lips. He was clearly showing me that he, in fact, did enjoy the little stand off we just had. He was impressed.

God, what have I done?

I quickly became annoyed at myself for losing my cool so fast, and at him for even making me lose it at all. I should have bit my tongue earlier or told him off, but I didn't know how. What would I tell him? To stop staring at me, or to stop picking on me? He'd probably pretend I was imagining things. Because that's how it goes. He only asked about the lessons, but he kept staring at me, and I couldn’t make him understand not to. Besides, I quickly grew worried about what the teacher thought. The last thing I needed was for any gossip to spread around the company, and I knew that the teacher is close friends with the girls from the Accounting Department. She also has lessons with them and they're on first-name terms, because they're about the same age and apparently she studied Italian Philology with one of them. I already could hear them talking shit.

The rest of the lesson passed on me trying to JUST survive. I didn't enjoy it much, as they took their sweet time bragging about their posh lives and places they've been to. Of course in a fluent Italian. I wasn't sure whether he was trying to impress her or anything, but this behaviour made me cringe internally. I couldn't help but count down every minute until the very end.

When the clock finally hit ten, I got up and packed my stuff immediately, rushing to leave the classroom before my head would explode. Passing through the doorway I said goodbye to Robert and the Witch with a short "addio". Right outside the door I quickened my pace as I could hear Robert leaving right behind me. I sneaked away, quickly entering the girls' restroom.

I got to the sink and turned on the water to wash my hands, at the same moment as my eyes caught in a mirror image of Robert walking into the bathroom behind me.

For a second I froze, rooted to the spot. Has he gone mad?

I stared at him for a moment and wondered how I should address him. He was not much older than me. Maybe five years at most, but he was my soon-to-be-boss. He lied about his name and FOLLOWED ME INTO THE TOILET!

“Mr. Fischer, you should leave. It's inappropriate.” I addressed him formally, wanting to emphasise the distance between us.

Even though it was my right to demand it from him, I still felt nervous. Maybe scared even.

A guy followed me into the ladies' room and I know he didn't come here by accident. If he had, he would have come out, apologising, but he was still standing there and looking at me like I'm... In the wrong place.

No, more like prey.

“Why?” He asked stupidly, furrowing his eyebrows in a fake incomprehension as he smiled mockingly.

.. leaning on his shoulder against the wall with arms crossed on his torso.

“Because it's a women's restroom?” I replied in a sharp tone and a fair bit of sarcasm, mirroring his stupid expression.

"So what?" he asked arrogantly, shrugging.

His response took me aback and surprised by his directness. Other women said he was unpredictable, but this bordered on harassment, yet I pushed this thought away. He's just a womaniser and a flirt. I guess he stopped developing in high school.

Eyeing him for a second I straighten my back, keeping my composure.

“Actually, nothing, you can stay here, after all, even the women's toilet is yours in this company, I forgot, but I'm leaving.” I said in a professional tone and without even wiping my hands, headed towards the door as if I had been scalded.

Suddenly he stopped me by pressing his back against the door, cutting off my escape route. I'm trapped, my thoughts racing. I bet someone's going to try to get in here in a minute and find me in the WOMEN'S ROOM WITH THE CEO’S SON! The one whose reputation isn't exactly spotless.

As I look up, his eyes shift around my face and I can see something new in his expression. A glimpse of awkwardness or maybe even… shame?

“I didn't want you to take it that way.” Robert said quickly, raising his hands in surrender as he saw the fear in my eyes. “I wanted to apologise for lying about my name.” He said, as if with regret, and if we weren't in the ladies' room, I might have believed him.

“I’m not angry, but please let me out immediately!” I raised my voice at him, and he looked me in the eyes for a couple seconds, before moving to the side and moving away from the door. He left me enough space to pass through, which I did, as my shoulder brushed against his chest in the meantime.

“It was good to see you, Miss Y/L/N” he added as I passed by before the door shut, still very confident and smiling like the devil.

I left the bathroom as if I was being chased and almost ran to my office. Entering the room, I shut the door closed and let out a deep breath.

I was absolutely outraged and shocked!

What a jerk! How dare he!

Taglist:

@lau219 @4ria790 @sasha28x @xsweetcatastrophe @betty21rose @aashika1908

Coming soon...

Where's the thin line between a breathtaking desire and love? Don't keep me in the dark, show me the rules so I don't get lost...

His cold blue eyes glare at her face. She's covered in tears, unable to hold the burning pain in her heart anymore. It shot out like rushing water through an old dam. Y/N's words made his head buzz with pain. He felt paralyzed. The room felt smaller than ever before, almost like it started closing up on them both. The expectant gaze she was shooting him was... Too much. Gaping sadness with a tiny flame of undying hope. His blood ran cold.

"You can find it here" Robert started in a low, shaky voice, pointing at the bed in the middle of his room, breaking her heart with each word. "Or there" He pointed towards the bathroom, where they were intimate just minutes ago. His jaw clenched as her eyes begged him to not say it. Taking a deep breath, he let it go. "But you won't find it here." His shaky hand pointed towards his heart. "You're wasting your time, Y/N."

...and it felt like the sky started falling

Office romance is never a good idea

Massive thank you to @lau219 for being very supportive and making these wonderful moodboards for me!

...Is anyone interested in reading such a thing? 😉