depraved human

Im Lex! • (she/her/they) • mid 20s • earth sign if that matters lol

MDNI /CONTACT - I’m not comfortable engaging with anyone under 18

I love cats, tattoos, nature, and cars and these topics will be in some of my writing. I’ve had a lot of wild life experiences and will base some works on those. I also model and do music so some inspo might come from there as well :)

Master list

Will go here when ready :)

Jschlatty x reader - a fic in which reader is brought in to assist the big guy, has extremely supportive friends, and wants to sleep with their boss

Warnings: nsfw at the end, dom/sub themes, talking down, alcohol mention (nobody is drunk expectpt meeeeeee) I love yall smmmm, I would kiss this man at any point of my life, let’s talk about it

When Tucker initially approached you about it, you thought it was just for the bit. Show up in the background while he was recording with a clipboard and coffee in hand, playing a parody of Ms. Sara Bellum from The Powerpuff Girls, face not in frame, only visible from the neck down. You laughed at the face Tucker pulled, as if the sound offended him, and asked how much the shoot would pay. Schlatt always paid his friends to be extras regardless of how brief their appearance would be. You cut your giggles short when he said your name sternly, reminding you of an exhausted teacher.

When Tucker began to speak in a serious tone, going on about how Schlatt just needs someone to streamline all of his projects into one channel, your ears perked up. Maybe it could be fun, you thought as Tucker continued.

“And it wouldn’t even be that serious. There wouldn't be a lot of pressure to make deadlines on your end, it’d be more so you putting things on his calendar and holding him accountable.” His expression softened. “He’s become one of my closest friends in recent years and I think if he had a little help, just to lighten the load, he’d be able to enjoy his life a little more. You don’t have to have an answer right now, but sleep on it at least.”

You did just that. It warmed your heart to have someone like Tucker in your life. Someone who cared so deeply for their friends and helping them in whichever way he could. But as much as you thought it would be helpful to Schlatt to have someone to help him out, you knew it would also be extremely beneficial to you. You could quit your shitty, lifeless, corporate job and take on a role that would give you more freedom and overall sounded enjoyable. Your decision had been made before your eyes shut for the night.

You weren’t quite sure how the dynamic between you and Schlatt would work. Both Ted and Tucker assured you would be fine, if not for it being a bit awkward at first, as he was their longtime friend and knew him at his core. You’d met him briefly in person only once, and that was at a semi-large party hosted by both Ted and Tucker with their friends back home.

They weren’t expecting him to actually show up, and neither were you, by extension. But when you heard him speak for the first time, you couldn’t help but whip your head around to find its source. Of course you’d seen pictures of him before, even a few videos when they’d be texted in the group chat that consisted of you, Tucker, Emma, and Ted. But there was something about seeing someone in person and hearing their voice. In person. And you knew you were fucked when Ted caught a glance of your flushed cheeks as you tried to hide your face from him. These assholes…

The party progressed as it normally would have, college friends drunk off their asses climbing into Ubers ordered by the most sober person (spoiler: it was you), while the hosts picked up after their guests. You made yourself comfortable at Tucker's kitchen counter, sipping on a crisp bottle of water as you watched the boys stumble around with a trash bag. If you hadn’t been so exhausted from the hours of social interaction, you would’ve found the scene hilarious, but your battery was close to zero and could only muster a few chuckles when they bumped into each other.

“‘M sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself to ya,” a deep voice startled you, commanding your attention in its direction. “I’m Jay, but you probably’ve heard them call me Schlatt.” You stared at the hand he had offered in your direction, hesitant to shake it. You introduced yourself in return, earning a smile from the tall man. This man is so fine, you think to yourself as you return his gesture. These boys sure know how to pick 'em.

“And why is that?” His voice startles you again, causing you to furrow your brows.

“What?” You ask. He lets out a soft laugh.

“You said, ‘these boys sure know how to pick 'em’, and I asked ‘why is that?’”, your eyes become wide as saucers as your mind races to come up with an answer.

“Oh, uh,” you bring a hand up to scratch at the back of your neck. “I just think they pick good company.” You offer a smile, praying to god that the sudden blush painting your cheeks isn’t that noticeable. Jay returns the smile, pushing off the counter he had been leaning on.

“Yeah, I think I can agree with you on that.” He shoots you a wink before clapping Ted on the shoulder, making his departure known. You watched as your two friends each gave him a hug and sent him out the door. Fuck.

About a week after your talk with Tucker, you were packing an overnight bag with your finest business casual attire and pajamas, tossing in a few perfumes just in case. Then, you were off.

Off to meet with Schlatt to discuss your position. Off to meet with your new boss. Employer. Overseer. Whatever you will. You were shitting bricks on the drive over, which seemed so much longer than it actually was, as this was your first professional impression on the man, and were fearful your performance would fall flat. What if he expects me to hand craft a reply to every single fan that reaches out in his DMs? What if my correspondence with vendors makes them want to withdraw their contracts? Oh god, what if he ends up being some terrible tyrant and wants to manage every microsecond of my time on the clock? You swallowed the lump building in your throat and exited the highway.

“In one mile, take a right,” the GPS lady spoke, startling you back to reality. You kept your foot pressed on the gas, eyes focused on the road in front of you. “In half a mile, turn right.” Your heart thumped in your chest. Almost there. Your phone screen zoomed in on the map as you continued down the road, trees now sheltering the roof of your car from the harsh morning sunlight. You stopped at an intersection and made a right turn, watching as the blue line guiding you on the screen approached a blue circle, indicating you were, in fact, almost there.

“You have arrived.”

You pulled into the driveway of a modest house. It was nice, but not at all what you had expected from a man of such… opulence. There were a few neatly trimmed hedges and flowering bushes growing along the front of the house, a pair of boots parked next to the front door, and an array of security cameras spanning from the garage to the opposing side of the structure. You put your car in park and shot Tucker a text letting him know you had just gotten to Schlatt’s. He heart reacted to the message, sending you a text back that said “you’ll do great :)”. Now or never.

Opening the car door and stepping out, you took a minute to straighten out your clothes before grabbing your phone and purse, shutting and locking the car, then making your way up to his porch. You took a deep breath and raised your arm to knock, but your knuckles were met with nothing but a cool burst of air.

“Well, would you look at that,” Schlatt teased, now standing in the doorway. You blinked, a little confused how he knew you were standing right outside the door. “Come on in, you can set your stuff down in the living room if you’d like, I have some guidelines and things I’d like to go over with you.” You watched as his back turned to you, gesturing for you to follow him inside. You took one step inside before your nerves decided to start dancing around, sending hot flashes all around your body. You didn’t allow your eyes to wander around the new environment, keeping them focused on the back of his head as he led you to the kitchen.

“You can have a seat here,” he said, pulling out a chair at the dining table before doing the same for himself. “Before we start, can I get ya anything? Water? Soda?” His voice was softer than before, and as you looked up to make eye contact, you also noticed how close his chair was to yours. Swallowing, you replied.

“Water would be great. Thank you, Schlatt.” He smiled and pushed his chair back, walking over to the fridge to retrieve a cold bottle for you. You reached out to take it from him, but he only pulled it back and twisted the cap off before handing it to you.

“You look a little shaky, didn’t want ya to go spilling water all over the place.” You nodded as you sipped the water, pushing any feelings of embarrassment out of your mind.

“Oh, um, thanks.” You took a big gulp. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet. I kinda just rushed out of my apartment this morning.” You admitted, taking one more sip before setting the bottle on the table and turning to face him. “So, what’s on the docket today?” You smiled, hoping the flush across your cheeks from moments ago had died down.

“You want somethin’ to munch on then? I got a lotta snacks in the pantry.” You blink at him instead of speaking, then nod. He offers a smile before standing back up and walking over to the aforementioned pantry. In one swift motion he opens the door and squats down, turning his head slightly towards you. “I got a bunch of those single serving sized chips and cookies, a couple different cereals, stuff for a mean PB&J…” he trails off, sliding items around to look behind them. “Also some minute rice if you’re feeling kinda fancy.” His tone, though friendly and light, did little to sooth the still-lingering anxiety. It was basic decency to offer someone a snack after inviting them in. However, given the fact that this man was now your employer, he was still essentially a stranger to you, and taking any sort of food from a stranger made you feel weird. What if everything was expired or tampered with? What if his plates all had mold growing on them? What if he doesn’t wash his hands and you get a stomach bug?

The growl of your stomach pulled you out of thought and back to the conversation. Well, you’ll never know unless it happens.

“Could I just have some toast? I’m worried that anything else might make my stomach upset.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Schlatt grabbed a loaf of bread and got to work. You found it endearing that there was no hesitation in his actions, just an immediate response to the request. Sure, it was just toast, but you weren’t privy to someone acting so quickly over any sort of request of yours.

You watched as he reached over and grabbed a plate from the cupboard, delicately removing the slices of bread from the toaster before sliding over a small tub of butter to spread around.

“Ya’ want jam or anything?” His words were softly spoken and warm, making you feel a tiny bit fuzzy inside. You watched as he stood in front of the fridge, shuffling various things around. “I got grape, cherry, and raspberry, but I think this cherry stuff’s seen better days.” He turns towards you with a small jar in hand, and you watch as the mixture inside barely moves. You let out a small giggle as he sets it on the sink.

“Raspberry’s perfect, actually.” He smiles at you once more before grabbing the jar out, and placing a butter knife on the plate before setting the items down in front of you, finally sitting down in his chair.

“Alright, let’s get started on some paperwork.”

Somehow, of all the settling stardust and possibilities in the universe, that singular interaction at the party landed you a job you’d never considered, but now couldn’t imagine not having. Sure, what Tucker had said about it being awkward at first was true, but once you were able to establish rapport with Schlatt and get to know him, any lingering anxieties had melted away, and you began to genuinely enjoy the time you spent (working) with him.

Your actual work wasn’t at all stressful, to your delight. It mainly consisted of you sorting email threads, double checking appointments and meeting times, and feeding the cats. Seriously. He really liked to handle tasks his way, and for the most part, you felt like you were just there for moral support. It was surprisingly… domestic.

He’d be typing away on his laptop across the table from you, or set you up next to him at his desk to bounce ideas back and forth, or just ask your opinion on a script he was writing. And although you were his assistant, most of the time it was him who would be going on snack and coffee runs. Anytime you would volunteer, he would smile and shake his head, insisting that whatever you were working on was more important (even if you were just playing agar.io at the kitchen table, waiting for him to give you another task). You’d grown comfortable enough to spend one night a week at his, usually a night that he would be streaming or getting ready to upload a big project to make sure everything was perfect. And afterwards, the two of you would celebrate with ice cream and a few drinks. It had felt more like hanging out with one of your best friends rather than working. Not that you were complaining whatsoever.

Ted and Tucker would check in with you often, the latter taking on the role of a protective brother, making sure you were happy and felt safe. You felt like you were thriving in this new environment. And based on the way your hair and skin were doing, you were. You now had time to actually take care of yourself, put a little more effort into outfits and makeup, and present yourself the way you wanted to. You even found yourself hanging out with Schlatt when you were not working, going out for lunch and the occasional shopping trip. The best part about days like that? Even though he was paying you handsomely, he would insist on paying for you, regardless of what it was.

He would tell you “That’s your hard earned money, save it for something better”, if you found a few cute skirts while you were out, slapping his card on the checkout counter before you could even bother with your purse. It was the same anytime he followed you into Sephora, complaining that “Thirty dollars for a colored pencil is ridiculous”, before telling you to get both lipliners you’d been eying and sliding up to the register with his card out while you told the clerk your phone number.

“Schlatt! I can pay for myself! It’s fine!” You’d fight, crossing your arms across your chest.

“You’re clocked in right now, doll. S’fine.” He’d smirk, dragging a hand across your shoulders. When you’d roll your eyes in response, his smirk would just get bigger (and maybe you’d be blushing. Maybe).

Around seven months in, however, you started to feel… conflicted. staying the night once a week turned into twice a week. Then three times a week. Then four, five, six, to a full seven. Your apartment had essentially just become storage or a place to crash if you had gone out with anyone besides Schlatt.

For your birthday, Schlatt surprised you with a trip to Japan. You were ecstatic upon opening the card with plane tickets and passport info spilling out, launching yourself at him and nearly strangling him with a hug. He then announced that he’d be taking you to the finest Italian restaurant for dinner and had invited Ted, Tucker, and Emma, along with a few other friends as well. You immediately texted your group chat with the three of them to express your excitement before berating Ted for not telling you he would be coming out. A few memes were exchanged before you decided to get ready, sending a parting text about your excitement. You stood up from the couch and stretched before making your way to Schlatt’s guest room which had essentially become your room. You threw open the closet doors and began ransacking your selection of clothes to find the perfect outfit.

You weren’t sure exactly how long you had been playing dress up, but by the time you settled on an outfit, you had about an hour until you had to leave for dinner.

It was a warm New England evening, so you decided on a frilly mini skirt and a corset style top. Just enough clothing to keep you covered in the dreadful humidity slinking around outside. Once you were happy with your choices, you searched around the room for your purse and makeup bag, making your way to the bathroom to finish getting ready. You sang along to music playing from your phone as you finished applying mascara, taking a step back to admire yourself. It wasn’t something you did very often, getting all dolled and dressed up, but when you did your confidence soared. Dancing around the bathroom and posing in the mirror made you feel good enough to take a few selfies, even posting one to your instagram story. You made your way back into the bedroom and cleaned up the mess of clothes before shutting the door and heading to the living room.

Schlatt was laid out on one of the couches, and although he was curled up on his side, you could tell he had changed into something more suitable for a semi-formal dinner. He looked up from his phone at the sound of your heels on the hardwood and smiled, shoving the device in his pocket to be forgotten about. He pushed himself off the couch to get a better look at you, and you swore his cheeks looked a little more pink than usual as he stood to his full height.

“Damn, you’re nice. I mean, you look dressed,” you chuckled at his jumbled words, putting your arms out to show off the outfit in full. “Fuck, sorry. I’m trying to say you look great.” You giggle and playfully reach over to swat at him before taking in his attire. Freshly pressed evergreen button up, his favorite Rolex, and…

“Did you seriously iron your jeans?” You tease through laughter. He cracked a wry smile before turning away from you.

“Hey, it’s your birthday dinner, not a fucking cotillion.” He snarks back, not an ounce of malice in his words. He turns back towards you and looks you in the eyes. It’s unnerving, but for some reason, a reason you would never admit, it enticed you. You wanted to start a staring contest and never lose. Sometimes, it felt like you could.

Sure, you had always thought Schlatt was attractive. Anyone with working eyes was able to arrive at that conclusion. But it’s very different when you grow close to someone, particularly someone known for being closed off and reserved, and see them blossom before you. Your purpose was to help him keep blooming, allow him the space and peace to enjoy life as it came a little more, provide reassurance and safety and… and…

A sharp whistle and hand waving in front of your face reeled you back to the moment at hand.

“Ready, toots?”

The drive to the restaurant was spent cracking jokes about traffic and singing along to Schlatt’s playlist (one that you had curated, in fact) in horrific British accents. The mood was light and fun, but with a feather-like touch that caused your stomach to somersault.

The passing time allowed you to ponder earlier thoughts, like how natural you had come to feel around him. The gentle taps on your shoulder to get your attention, sitting thigh-to-thigh on the couch and sharing each other's warmth. The only thing you wanted to do some days was climb into his lap and press soft kisses all about his face. But he was your boss, and that was taboo. A reminder that no matter how close you got, there was an obligation to fulfill. You looked over at Schlatt to your left, admiring the way the sunset casted golden rays on his features and colored his eyes a dark, rich honey. Beautiful bastard, you thought.

“You good over there?” He spoke, pulling your gaze from his eyes to his lips. “You’re bein’ awfully quiet. What’s on your mind?” He briefly glanced at you, raking over your position. Legs crossed, arms folded, head lolled back on the headrest. You swallowed hard and let out a breath you didn’t realize was being held, before sighing and untangling yourself.

“‘M alright, Jay. Just got a lot on my mind right now.” You shifted in the seat, taking the opportunity to pick at your cuticles to break the eye contact. He let out a low hum before reaching over to place a hand on your knee. Fuck.

“I know I’m your boss, but we’re friends on top of that,” he gave you a soft smile along with a punch in the gut. “As weird as that feels to say out loud. You can talk to me about whatever’s bothering you, no judgement.” He gave your knee an affirming squeeze which did anything but make you feel better. You nodded in response, muttering a quiet “thank you” before turning your attention to the hand still resting on your leg.

Maybe to him this was genuinely his way of trying to offer comfort to you, but the gentle pressure was only making you feel more nervous. You tried to distract yourself by humming to the song that was playing and praying that you could pull Tucker aside tonight and talk about your feelings.

All the anxiety from the ride over washed away as soon as you were greeted by your friends waiting outside the restaurant for you and Schlatt. You hugged them all one by one, until you got to Tucker. Pulling him and his wife into a group hug, you whispered “I need to talk to you guys. Alone. Nothing bad.” Loud enough for only them to hear, before thanking them for coming loud enough for the rest to hear. Tucker shot you a knowing look before you flashed a smile, turning to follow Schlatt inside.

The ambience inside was charming and vibrant, with every section having a different theme. It felt like walking into some nonna’s eclectic Staten Island home. You watched as Schlatt talked with a hostess before she grabbed a stack of menus and ushered your group towards the back of the restaurant, before stopping at a table large enough for three families. You all thanked her before settling down into your seats. Obviously you were sat at the head of the table (it was your birthday after all), with Schlatt to your left and Tucker to your right. Maybe I can quickly catch Tucker up to speed if Schlatt uses the restroom.

The dinner went without a hitch. Great food, wonderful conversation, and many faces you haven’t seen in person in quite some time were the best way to spend a birthday in your mind. The only thing that was bothering you was the fact that Schlatt had not once excused himself from the table, and every look Tucker shot your way was interrupted by Ted telling a wild story from their trip to Africa. It was nice to hear about their experience, but the only thing on your mind was confessing to Tucker that this arrangement might have been the worst idea of his, working for Schlatt that was.

By the time dessert had been rolled out, “Happy Birthday” sang, and cards with well wishes for the next year of your life had been handed out, you were convinced the man to your left would’ve hit his social quota for the week and make the first move to pay the bill and leave. However, he was deep in conversation with Ted and one of your other friends, talking animatedly about a new project he was considering. With a deep sigh, you turned toward Tucker who thankfully hit you with “I have your gift in my car, come with me to go get it.” You had never stood up so fast.

“Where’re ya goin’?” A voice from the left called out. With a small smile you turned towards Schlatt.

“Tucker said he left my gift in the car, we’re gonna go get it real quick. I’ll be fast.” Schlatt nodded before turning back to the conversation, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as you moved away. You froze for a moment, and Tucker noticed immediately the way your face changed.

The air outside the restaurant had settled to crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the interior. You followed Tucker around the corner of the building before stopping just beside some hedges.

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” His tone was laced with amusement, and you wanted to scream.

“Dude, yes! I don’t know what the fuck to do!” You threw your arms up before bringing them down to rest on your head. “He’s been so touchy with me! And nice! And he’s my fucking boss!” You let out a deep sigh only for Tucker to continue for you.

“And you have a crush on him.” You didn’t need to look over to him to know he had a sly smile creeping up his cheeks.

“Yeah! I fucking do! But he’s my boss!” You brought a hand down to rub at your temples, frustration coursing through you. The light chuckle earned in response did nothing but add to your frustration. “I can’t fuck this up, Tucker. This has been the easiest, best, least stressful job I’ve ever had, and he pays me so good.” A gentle hand was placed on your shoulder, squeezing for reassurance.

“You’re like a sister to me,” Tucker began. “And I’d like to think that I know both you and Schlatt well enough to offer advice here.” He took a step back, smile not fading. “Obviously, the attraction is mutual between you two, and I know for a fact Schlatt wouldn’t just fire you if something happened and didn’t work out. From my understanding, he sees you as his business partner, and while normally I wouldn’t be one to say ‘hey, you should sleep with your boss’, I know that’s what you want to do.” He turned, taking a few steps back toward the restaurant. “And I’d be lying if I told you he wasn’t having the same thoughts about you.”

Your brain short circuited. Wait. It’s not all in your head? You weren’t just making up the way the mood would shift in the late hours of the night? The way he’d settle down a little too close to you on the couch during a movie? The more recent effort he’d put into his appearance? The begging you to stay the night so you didn’t have to make the drive back to your apartment late at night?

“Tucker, I can’t just be forward like that with him. What if it scares him off?” Your friend, still steps ahead of you, just chuckled in response.

“If you don’t wanna believe me that’s fine, but when have I ever led you astray?” Still in a slight state of shock, you just stare as he pushes open the doors. “Besides, I have very recent proof I’m not making this shit up.” The warm air from the restaurant washed over your body, not quilling the unease in your stomach.

—-

The drive back to Schlatt’s was much the same as the drive to the restaurant. Dumb jokes, singing in a terrible British accent, flipping off other drivers who probably got their license from a cereal box, and the same, warm feeling of dread snaking through your chest. The dread, however, was now accompanied by a new feeling: hope.

True to his word, Tucker fired off several screenshots of past conversations with Schlatt, all pertaining to you. You tried to not touch your phone until you got back to the house, but you needed to see with your own eyes, you needed to feel relief. You had to see if any of it had an ounce of truth. Schlatt would probably just assume you’re thanking everyone for showing up tonight. Just check the damn screenshots.

Some were more vague, along the lines of “she looked really nice when we went out to lunch” or “I don’t get pissed off at her like I do you guys”. Others were much more telling, like “I’d let her run me over with my own car” and “you guys don’t understand how hard it is to edit when we’re touching elbows, I want to die”. Tucker also threw in a few screenshots of him sending your instagram posts to their group chat with an amalgamation of emojis one could only describe as “down bad”. When you finally put your phone down, tucking it under the hem of your skirt, you noticed Schlatt’s eyes follow, only to snap back up to the road the second you faced towards him. His awful British singing voice was softer the rest of the ride home.

By the time he was reaching for the garage door opener, the nerves washed back over you. You started to gather your things and felt that you barely had time to unbuckle your seatbelt before he was opening the door for you, offering a hand to help you out of the car. It felt rushed, almost awkward. As you leaned down to grab your purse from the car floor, a strong hand pulled you back up.

“Lemme get it, it’s your birthday.” Schlatt’s voice was loud, almost as if the tone was unintended. He cleared his throat and laughed.

“Sorry, that came out more rude than I wanted it to. Let me get your bag for you.” You took a half-step to the side as he bent down to collect your belongings, sliding his hand up your back on his way up. You froze at the contact, and could barely register that he had shut the door and was now guiding you into the house.

You looked down and could see your feet moving, but felt no control, as if he was walking for you. In fact, the only thing that you could feel was his warm palm settling on the sliver of skin between your skirt and top, and a slight dampness soaking into your -

“Did’ya have fun at dinner?” His voice snapped you out of your daze. Not finding the words to reply, you just looked up at him and nodded, before averting your gaze to a stack of mail on the kitchen counter. You could feel his thumb stroke small circles on your back, simultaneously easing and-

“I’m glad. You’ve done so much for me these past few months, and I wanted to make it up to you.” He guided you to the living room, pulling you down to sit next to him on one of the leather sofas. He leaned forward to grab a remote off the coffee table, turning the tv on, then slammed back down against the back of the couch. You watched him scroll between different streaming apps, Netflix, Hulu, Prime, Hulu, Netflix.

“What’d’ya feel like watching?” He shifted to face you, voice soft. A tone reserved for whenever you guys ended up like this. Together. The remote was then placed in your hand, his own lingering for a moment longer than it usually would. It was warm, and did little to quell your ever-present nerves.

In a motion so natural, you scrolled over to Hulu, waiting for the loading screen to do its thing so you could type a title you’ve searched hundreds of times before: The X-Files. It became a comfort show for you, something to turn your brain off to, something that you could quote word-for-word without needing to think. You scrolled down to the pilot episode and hit “play”.

“Huh, didn’t think aliens would be on the docket for tonight, but it’s your birthday, baby, whatever you want.” The pet name stirred something inside of you again, and even though you’ve heard the syllables spill from his lips dozens of times before, this one felt different. It felt intentional. It also, however, eased your nerves enough to reply.

“Jay, I’ve talked about this show, like, a million times at this point,” shifting towards him slightly and looking up at his face, you could already tell his eyes would be glued to the screen for the rest of the night. “This is probably the greatest piece of American media ever produced.” Without another word, he scooted over to give you room to get comfy, his arm resting on the back of the couch just above your shoulders, your feet next to his on the coffee table.

Halfway through the first episode, Schlatt had leaned down to take your boots off for you, tossing them behind the couch while you curled up closer to him, legs kicked over his lap. Around the same time his arm had relocated to your back, thumb rubbing the same assuring circles from before. Two episodes in, you yawned for the first time. Not ready to call it a night, just an indicator that you had, indeed, gotten comfortable once again. The anxiety from earlier had all but disappeared, with feelings of warmth and relief situated in their place. Schlatt had asked many-a-question thus far, humming when he understood something better, and scoffing every time you said “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see”. It was, by your own account, very domestic indeed. The last thing you could consciously remember was giving him an “mmhm” when he asked if you were ready for bed.

You awoke to the sound of birds crooning and sunlight peeking in through the curtains. Through half-lidded eyes you scanned the room for your alarm clock, hoping to get a glimpse of the time, but couldn’t help to close your eyes once again, not ready for the day to begin. Rolling over, you were met with a large object, bone-y and unmoving. Without thought, you attempted to roll once more, freezing when said object groaned.

“Why’re you trying to bulldoze me right now?” It was Schlatt. His voice was deeper, gravely with sleep. Why the hell is he in my bed? You opened your eyes again, scanning the room only to realize you were not in your bedroom, and in fact, you were in Schlatt’s. Shooting up in a panic, you threw back the covers to reveal that you were dressed in one of his shirts, soft and oversized, but still wearing your mini-skirt from the night before. Wait, what the f-

“Y’said you were too comfortable to walk to your room, s’I just carried you in here. Was just easier.” Looking over at him, Schlatt had slept on top of the covers, just a small throw blanket covering him from the chest down. The comforter was like a barrier, acting to keep the two of you separated. You let out a sigh, relief and frustration tied together with a bow. “The way y’were snorin’ made it sound like y’jus’ got done backpacking’ Everest.” Schlatt stretched his arms out before rolling to face you, eyes still closed with a gentle smile.

“What happened to my top?” An inch of panic strained your voice. You couldn’t remember changing, only him taking your shoes off for you. You also weren’t drunk, only slightly tipsy from the few drinks had at dinner; you would’ve remembered changing before bed.

“Oh, um,” Schlatt started, still not opening his eyes. “I woke up to use the bathroom and your thing was unbuttoned and halfway off,” one eye was now squinting at you, and his cheeks were turning light pink. “I just threw a shirt on ya’ when I got back. You were kinda hanging out.” The eye closed once more and the punk shifted to red. You stifled a laugh, out of embarrassment or endearment you were unsure, but either way you couldn’t bring yourself to keep looking at him. You threw a leg over the edge of the bed to stand. There was a heavy silence as you were about to announce your departure from his room, but he spoke first.

“‘M sorry if I overstepped, jus’ wanted you to be more comfortable.” The covers shifted as he made an attempt to get up, only to get his legs tangled in the blankets. You watched as he struggled for a moment, finally freeing himself with a sigh. You remained still. You felt conflicted.

“Did you see anything?” Your voice was small, mouse-like almost. Your eyes settled on his knees, the nerves from before creeping back up into your stomach. He sighed again, and began to walk towards you. Still not being able to look up at him, your eyes settled on his chest. He stopped only a foot away from you.

“Not as much as you’re probably expecting,” a large hand came to rest on your hip. Only then did you meet his gaze. Only then did the nerves push south. “Look, I know I gotta reputation online for being kinda nasty, but that’s just a bit. Mostly. I respect you and I wasn’t trying to cross a line. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable, that’s all.” The hand not on your hip made its way to your hair, brushing a few strands from your face. You unintentionally leaned into it, bringing a light smile to his lips.

Not knowing how to respond, you took a deep breath and hugged him. Arms around his waist, head against his chest. You heard his heart thump erythematically before his own arms came to rest around your shoulders. You weren’t sure how long the embrace had lasted. It felt like hours, like the two of you were the only people alive at that moment in time, the only beings to exist on the planet. It had more than likely only been about ten minutes though, as the not-so-distant sound of the cats’ automatic feeder went off.

You pulled away first, taking a moment to just stare up at him. Cheeks rosy, eyes heavy, heart still racing. There had never been a conversation about a relationship between the two of you, but at that moment you believed Tucker, and decided it needed to happen today. Before you tried to kiss him. Before you accidentally said ‘I love you’. Before you tried to climb him like a tree and show him right there how he makes you feel.

——

The rest of the day had gone on like any other waking day. You checked emails and messages, then got dressed, brushed your teeth, put on eyeliner. It was an average Saturday.

You had planned to go shopping for some new shoes for the trip to Japan coming up. Granted, you still had two weeks until you planned on packing (you were the type to pack and unpack then repack about ten times before being satisfied), Schlatt had mentioned wanting to go to the mall that afternoon to get out of the house for a bit. You took this as an opportunity to seek out a pair of Docs you’d been eyeing on instagram.

The drive to the mall was nothing to write home about, just the same bad singing from you both in horrid accents and obnoxious impressions that occurred on every other drive. In traffic there were complaints, and in the parking lot even more chiding about the way people don’t know how to park. And, of course, lighthearted back-and-forth bickering about people not knowing how to behave in public once inside the mall itself.

Schlatt followed you straight to the Doc Marten’s store and watched as you tried on the same boots in four sizes.

“They’re in European sizes! The US conversions don’t make sense!”

“Right, but if you know you’re a size 7, why are you trying on a size 5?”

“Schlatt, the conversions don’t make sense! Their size US 5 is like a regular US 8!” He scoffed to leave you to it, only to look at the men’s line on the opposite side of the store.

Trying on the final pair and taking them for a test drive around the store, you approached Schlatt to ask for his final opinion on them.

“Do you think the platform is too tall?” You ask, grabbing onto his forearm for support as you almost trip and fall. He turns to face you, never once looking down at the shoes being tried on.

“I dunno, I think they’re fine.” He holds his arm out and you take a step back, letting go to twirl and show them off. He laughs as you almost fall again.

“You’re not even looking at the shoes, though. Do they even make me look taller?” You ask, catching a glimpse of yourself in a mirror next to him. “Or do they look too clunky?” Still staring in the mirror, you notice him move to stand behind you, still not looking at the shoes. He shrugs, and you watch as his hand comes to rest on the small of your back, catching you off-guard. Why is he touching me in public? Is that not we-

“As long as you’re not taller than me, I think they’re fine. I mean, i don’t think any pair of shoes could get you to that point, pipsqueak, but if you like them, that’s all that really matters.” You continued to stare in the mirror for a moment more, now distracted by the difference of your height and size compared to Schlatt. It made you feel squirmy. And almost as if he could read your mind, you caught him smirk before removing his hand from your back and heading toward the check-out counter. Bastard.

After paying for your shoes (which Schlatt once-again insisted paying for, “as an extra birthday gift”), the two of you meandered around some of the other shops. He guided you into a stationary store for some new notebooks and a laptop case, and you dragged him into Lush to smell soap. After, there was a stop at the food court for lunch, and then a small adventure to the opposite end of the mall to Spencer’s.

“If you’re gonna buy a dildo or something, I’m not going in with you.”

“Schlatt, I told you Spencer’s is only good for jewelry. There’s better places online to buy a dildo. But if you wanna get one for yourself, have at it.”

“You make me feel weird sometimes.”

Schlatt promised he would stay by the t-shirts, watching as you spun the jewelry displays around. By the time you had picked out some new body decor and went to grab him, he was gone. The store was small, so he couldn’t have gotten far. Maybe he’s by the mugs? No. Maybe he’s looking at Invader Zim wallets? Also no. When you turned the corner to peek at the back walls, you caught a glimpse of his head. Looking at… bondage gear? You laughed and then approached him.

“What happened to ‘no weird shit?’, huh?” You teased, watching him fumble to hang a pair of fuzzy handcuffs back up.

“I haven’t been in one of these in years, I got curious, okay?” He defended, cheeks pinking up. “I thought it was just dildos and butt plugs, not this.” He gestured to the wall of play sets. “Are you ready or are you gonna give me a lesson on all of this shit against my will?” You laughed again, and nudged him toward the counter.

“I’m ready, and I’m not gonna bore you with tales of an exciting sex life,” he nodded, not looking up at you. Embarrassed, how cute. “Besides, I feel like you know me well enough now that you know how boring my ex was.” You set the jewelry on the counter as the young cashier helped you out. As she told you the total, she hit you with:

“All of the gear is 50% off, right now. I saw you guys eyeing some of it, just wanted to put that out there.” She smiled and looked between the two of you, raising an eyebrow at Schlatt who had gone full lobster out of the mere mention of sex in a public space.

“We’re good, but thank you for letting us know.” You smiled, beginning to dig for your card in your purse.

“No worries. But if you ever wanna treat your girl to something nice,” she swipes your card before handing it back to you, waiting for a receipt to print. “Sale goes til the end of next week.” You watch from the corner of your eye as Schlatt brings a hand up to his face, trying to cover some of his shame.

“We’re okay. She’s fine. Thank you.” Is all he can muster before grabbing the receipt from her hand, and pulling you out of the store. You held your laugh in until you reached a directory outside the store.

“Is that all it takes to get to you?” You giggle, pulling in his arm to get him to slow down. “A young, pretty cashier mentions sex toys and suddenly you turn into a child watching his parents kiss?” You chide, following his lead out of the mall.

“That’s not…” he trails off, cheeks still pink.

“Would you also be embarrassed if I said, out loud, I wanted to go to Victoria’s Secret and buy a matching bra and thong?” He stops dead in his tracks, but it only encourages you to push more. “Are you embarrassed by the words bra and thong, or is it, like, Catholic-programmed guilt about wanting to see someone in a bra and thong or something?” He stares at you like you’ve pushed a wrong button before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath before smiling at you with forced intensity that makes your skin crawl.

“If you really want to do that, I’ll give you my card and you can go in. But I don’t want to hear anything about it.” He offers, his smile making your blood run cold. Maybe I struck a nerve.

“Jay, I was joking. I’m sorry. We can go home, it’s okay.” You reached out to place a hand on his arm, which he jerks away, only to place that hand on your waist. You froze, heart beginning to pound from your chest to your head to your-

“We can discuss how you’re talking to me later. I’m offering only once: if you would like to go and buy something for yourself, you may. I will give you my card and wait outside, and then we can go home. Understood?” His voice was quiet yet firm. Uneasy in a new way. It wasn’t necessarily aggressive either, just… dominant.

“Understood.” Your own voice was meek, as if it was stuck in your throat. He nodded and removed his hand from your waist to reach for his wallet. There was a voice in your head screaming at you to push him again, to see what he would do. But the feeling in your gut (ie: your panties) was not navigating this one.

“Do you want to go buy something for yourself?” His voice was now sweet, pleased almost. You nodded, watching his eyebrows twist.

“Was that a yes?” He asked, firmer.

“Yes.” You whisper, now unable to meet his eyes. His card was presented to you, and without another word, you turned toward the store that had started this incident.

True to his word, Schlatt followed behind you, parking himself next to a vending machine just outside the store's entrance.

You didn’t actually know what to look for. You hadn’t been into any sort of lingerie shop in years, and you didn’t even know if they carried your size. You only said yes to be a bit defiant, it made you feel accomplished in a way. But now that you were trying to prove something, you felt lost.

You started with bras, once again unsure if they would even have one that fit. You combed through the hangers and drawers, only a few things catching your eye, but nothing worth spending money on. Then you moved to sets. Sure, they looked nice together, but the only colors currently on display were all nudes and pink, nothing you would consider flattering on yourself. Then it was panties, and sure there were a lot of cute pairs, but once again nothing stood out. You were about to just walk out and return to Schlatt when one of the employees stopped you.

“Lookin’ for anything specific? Certain size? Style?” She was older yet pretty, and for some reason felt trustworthy. You sighed before fully turning to her.

“I don’t know what I’m looking for and I feel like I kinda need help.” She smiled, gesturing for you to continue.

“My friend is taking me on a trip for my birthday, I made a joke about them being scared of sex essentially, in return they made me… feel something, and now im here.” Her smile widened.

“And this friend, how long have they made you feel something?” You sighed again, debating if you should spill the secret that you’re trying to sleep with your boss and feel like you’re very close to that point but don’t know how to… seduce him for lack of a better word.

“We… we’re business partners in a way. But business is loosley defined in our field.”

“Oh, um, entertainment? For adults?” The sweet woman asked, and you could shoot yourself in the foot for making it seem like you and the man outside were making porn together.

“N-no! No! Not like that! Sorry. He’s a… content creator.” She laughed, and you felt like an idiot. Really makes you sound like a teenager when you say those words.

“I think I understand. Well, I’m assuming you want to make an impression on this trip?” She asks again, being more patient than you could be in this situation.

“I… I guess so? We’ve had… conversations recently where I feel like this is something I need to get off my chest and before the trip, but I feel like waiting might be better for me, mentally.” She nods before placing a hand on your arm.

“Well, sweetie, I can take your measurements if you’d like and we can find something memorable.” You can only nod as she gently pulls you towards the fitting rooms.

Twenty minutes later, Tina, as you’ve come to know her, has gathered a selection of pieces that you would’ve have simply overlooked. There were reds and blues and blacks, and a few jewel toned sets she said would “really bring out your eyes”. And you tried them on. And you loved them. They were all very pretty with a lot of lace detailing, in various cuts and styles. The bras themselves looked like something you’d see on Twitter fashion accounts, only in much more vivid colors. And the panties as well, lacy and flowery, were something you would’ve worn to feel cute in your past relationship before they’d be just yanked and thrown without thought of how delicate they were. And while trying the sets on, you almost shed a few tears.

With your ex, nothing felt intentional, just rushed. The few times you tried to put on lingerie to feel something, he’d just comment that it’s a waste of time, he’d rather you just rip your clothes off so he could poorly hump you for ten minutes before finishing, telling you to just go home once he was done and you were still waiting. There was some trauma there, you supposed.

Even though nothing had happened with Jay ,yet, everything felt intentional. Opening the car door for you, asking for your opinion on big decisions, hell, even just the fact that he was currently standing outside holding your bags of your shit that he bought for you. And he was your boss. Your stomach churned a bit at the thought of that, just like it had many times in the past few months. You pushed the thought aside and continued to try on garments.

Another twenty minutes later, all choices had been tried on and separated. They all looked nice, one could argue, but the top two picks looked straight up irresistible with the way they hugged curves and defined breasts. You imagined they were something one would wear to get instantly pregnant. Hot. Satisfied, you made your way to the register, paid, then walked out to find Schlatt.

“Two bags?” He cocks an eyebrow as you approach him.

“I couldn’t decide between the two. I paid for one myself though,” you share, walking side-by-side towards the entrance.

“I told you to buy whatever you wanted and I would pay. You don’t need to spend your own money on stupid shit.” He scolded gently. There was no real anger behind his voice.

“I felt guilty, they were expensive. The thought of spending that much of someone’s money would’ve weighed me down mentally.” Was your retort. Schlatt sighed once again, and without a word reached over to take the bags from you.

“It’s fine, but next time if I tell you to use my card, just use my damn card.” You only nodded in return, continuing to walk next to him back to the car.

Another drive home, another round of terrible karaoke.

Shopping bags were set down and shoes were kicked off before the two of you made a beeline for the couch. Schlatt sat down first, reaching for the tv remote as you settled next to him, kicking your legs over his lap.

Much like the night prior, you weren’t sure when you fell asleep. You didn’t mean to, but the couch was soooo comfy and Schlatt was so… warm. But his spot on the couch had now been replaced by one of the cats, purring and making biscuits on a throw pillow. Sitting up and stretching, you looked at the clock. It was five pm. Maybe Schlatt went to pick up dinner.

You removed yourself from the sofa and made your way into the kitchen, deciding to poke around for a granola bar or something else to snack on. Opening a few cabinets without anything catching your eye, you settled for just having a glass of water. If he was getting dinner he would be back soon. Just as you reached for the glassware cupboard, the front door swung open.

“Tucker, I believe you, my concern is that somehow I’m gonna fuck this up and then she’s - hey!” Schlatt turned the corner, facing you like a deer in the headlights. You waved to him, seeing that he was on the phone, but he didn’t move. He had two large plastic bags in his hands, with what you hoped would be Chinese take out by the way it smelled. “Look, I- I’ll call you back later. Bye.” Finally moving, Jay pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed the “end call button” before gesturing one of the bags toward you. You gladly took it, hoisting it up on the counter to unpack its contents.

“I didn’t expect you to be awake. You were napping hard.” He chided, placing his own bag of food on the counter next to yours.

“What were you talking to Tucker about?” You asked solely out of curiosity. Jay froze for a second, following up with a laugh as he handed you a pair of chopsticks.

“He was asking about the trip to Japan and how things were going with that. He didn’t realize we were leaving so soon,” You nodded, grabbing two plates from the dish rack and handing one to Schlatt. “He was tellin’ me that him and the wife wanna go before they start popping out kids.” You nodded again, opening the box of low-mein and portioning some onto your plate.

“What did you mean when you said you were scared you were gonna fuck it up? I mean, the plane tickets are great seats and you swear by the hotel you booked.” You prodded, feeling like there was more to the meaning, but with no proof. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Jay shift as if he was uncomfortable. You waited for his response as you continued to load your plate up with sweet and sour chicken.

“Oh, um,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck with the hand not holding his plate. “I- I was telling him that I was worried that one of the excursions wouldn’t work out, that’s all.” You hummed, satisfied with the amount of food on your plate, and brushed passed him, making your way over to the couch once again.

“But you said ‘she’.” You heard the rustling from the bags stop for a moment, then Jay sighed.

“I,” he paused. Heavily. “This is your first big trip out of the country, I just want to make sure it’s perfect.” His voice trailed off, the last word barely audible.

“That’s a very sweet gesture, Jay, but I’m just excited to go,” he shuffled around the kitchen for a moment more before appearing next to the couch. “It’ll be perfect because we get to go together!” You smiled up at him, noticing how his movements seemed stiff, like the topic was making him nervous. He returned your smile before plopping down next to you and turning the tv back on.

When you looked at the clock next, it was almost six-thirty. In front of you sat two clean plates and a handful of dirty napkins. Your legs were kicked over Jay’s lap, much like earlier that day, while he played with a string hanging on one of your socks. He was staring at the tv screen, for once more interested in what was playing than his phone. You took a moment to appreciate his features. Strong nose and brows, golden brown hair just a little longer and shaggier than normal, freckles dusting across his cheeks, and of course, the chops- something he claims he grew out to make himself ugly but somehow ended up making him more attractive. He kinda failed in that field, you thought. It all made him more interesting to look at.

“Should jus’ take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He mumbled, not breaking his attention from the television. You blushed and looked away, embarrassed that he caught you. You picked at your nails for a moment before deciding to do exactly as he suggested. You reached for your phone on the arm of the couch and slyly angled it, opening the camera and sneaking two photos before placing it back in its resting spot.

“Well, now you gotta make that your Lock Screen.” Jay mumbled again, this time smirking. Your blush returned as you sighed and picked your phone back, opening it to your camera roll to fulfill his wishes. You waved it in his face.

“Happy?” You asked, feigning annoyance. He grabbed your hand to steady it, smiling at the picture then over at you. With his other hand he took your phone and placed it on an empty spot between the two of you, bringing the hand he was holding down to rest by your knee. He returned his attention to the screen once again, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

You made it through another episode like this, peaceful and domestic, before deciding to take a shower. You informed Schlatt of your plans before departing for your room. You picked out a pair of pajamas before remembering your purchases from earlier. You left the room and made your way through the house, remembering they were by the front door. After locating the bags, you returned back to your room, passing Schlatt still on the couch, now on his phone.

You paused for a moment, fighting back an urge to walk over and kiss him. It was getting harder for you. It had become a daily battle to not lean over and give your boss a big smooch any time he gave you praise for how you handled a task, or whenever he’d slink up behind you and rest a hand on your hip.

“Y’gonna give me a fashion show or something?” Schlatt teased, bringing you back to the present.

“Am I what?” You asked, confused by what he meant.

Jay gestured to the bags in your hand, which you then attempted to hide behind your back. There was a glimmer in his eye that made your stomach drop.

“Yeah,” you responded without thinking. Mentally slapping yourself in the face, you followed up with “in your dreams.” Schlatt let out a soft chuckle. You turned on your heel and headed back to the room. Before you could even cross the threshold to the hallway, you heard Jay call out:

“Can’t wait to go to bed then.”

Can’t wait to go to bed then.

Can’t wait to go to bed then.

His words replayed in your head for the entirety of your shower, haunting you with a sense of wanton dread. He clearly meant it as a joke, right? Even though he was the one that bought the fucking lingerie for you. It just had to be a funny joke. Just like how every time one of you sat on the couch, the other would come over to cuddle. It was all just a long-running, good natured joke. With your boss.

You texted Tucker the second you could get a towel wrapped around your body.

“Hey, I hope you’re not busy at the moment, but I reallyyyyyyyyy need to talk to you about Schlatt”, is all your message said. Straight to the point.

You set your phone back on the counter it was resting on and continued your post-shower routine. Hair combed and diffused, moisturizer applied, skin lotioned. You even brushed your teeth for funsies (it was not actually for funsies, but just in case your balls miraculously dropped and you had tried to initiate something with the man in the other room). You nervously checked your phone what seemed like every fifteen seconds just in case Tucker had replied and was willing to help guide you through telling your boss you wanted to fuck him. But alas, as you were packing your hairdryer back up, getting dressed in a silky black slip, and gathering your discarded clothes, the screen was still blank. God damnit.

Opening the bathroom door and stepping into your bedroom, you tossed everything on the floor at the foot of the bed before moving over to the floor-length mirror and hyping yourself up. Your hair looked soft and bouncy, skin fresh and smooth, and your body… you had to remember to thank some holy power later for that. Though the nightdress was a slip, it hugged your chest and ass in a way that wasn’t outright suggestive, but if someone were to really take it all in, every bend and fold of fabric, the message would be quite clear. And, of course, the cherry on top was the new lacy set laying just under the silk. You ran your hands over yourself a few times to flatten any bunching, quietly rehearsing what you would say under your breath.

“You said you wanted a show, big guy, so here it is.” Too cringy.

“Do you maybe have one last birthday gift for me?” Too funny, you would laugh right after.

“Look, I know you’re my boss and I’m your assistant, but I’d like to show you my appreciation in a way HR would fire us both.” Now that one was just dumb.

Whatever, no script. What happens happens and what’s said is said.

While looking yourself over in the mirror one final time, you heard a faint click. Schlatt had just gone into his room and shut the door. You swallowed hard and threw on a pair of house slippers before opening your own door and entering the hallway.

You stopped first in the kitchen to grab a glass of water, the sudden onset of bravery (see: depravity) making you feel parched. You could hear the tv on in his room, albeit very faintly, playing what you assumed to be some dumb 90s action flick. It just sounded like a lot of punching and grunting. Finishing the glass of water, you resume the trip down the hall to his room. There was a sliver of light peeking out from under the door and the thunderous sound of your own heartbeat ringing in your ears. But this was it. It was time.

You took a deep breath before reaching up to knock on the door. The tv continued to play with no other audible sound. You knocked again. Still nothing. As you raised your hand to knock for a third time, the door swung open. Schlatt stood before you dressed only in a pair of boxers, with skin glistening with sweat. What the-

“What’s up?” He asked, an unusual strain in his voice present. You stared up at him, blankly. Partially because you were confused, partially because the state he was in -a little disheveled, slightly panting -was doing something for you. Without saying a word, you pushed passed him, glancing briefly at the tv as you passed. It was turned off. Then what the hell was that sound coming fr-

Laying on his bed was his phone. A video open and paused. You couldn't tell exactly what was going on, just that a naked lady was in the shower. You didn’t know whether to laugh or not. It was porn. Oh my go-

“What are you doing?!?” He barked, practically leaping over to grab his phone from its resting place on his bed. You watched as he snatched it up and locked it, tossing it back onto the mattress.

“What are you doing?” You questioned back, watching as he frantically tried to make it look like he didn’t just get caught jacking off.

“I mean, I think you can tell!” He exclaimed, turning a shade of red you never thought to be humanly possible. You glanced from his face to his hand, then his waist, then at his phone, then back at his face.

“I- I wanted to talk to you about something…” you trailed off, watching as he attempted to hide his shame with his hands. Spoiler alert: didn’t work.

“Well, I was kinda in the middle of something, here, can it wait till tomorrow?” He rasped, still sounding slightly out of breath. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, feeling like a fish.

“No.” Was all that came out.

“Okay, well, can I at least throw some clothes on?”

“No.” You shook your head. His eyes grew wide, accompanying an annoyed look on his face.

“Okay, well then what the hell could be so important that you-“ you cut him off by closing the distance between the two of you, grabbing the sides of his head with your hands and yanking him into a kiss. He didn’t pull away, but he also didn’t reciprocate. You stood there holding his head, straining on your tippy toes to continue the kiss. It had felt like hours, but in reality was only about twenty seconds. Something in you broke, pulling away from him with tears beginning to well in your eyes. You believed you had just crossed a major boundary with him. He hadn’t kissed you back. You were going to have to find a new job and leave asap.

You turned around briefly to scope out your escape route; straight through the door, to the living room to grab your car keys, then out the front door to your car parked in the drive way. But as soon as you took one step forward, a large, warm hand was wrapping around your wrist.

“Look at me,” Schlatt called. You turned toward him but couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. You said nothing. He held onto your wrist tightly. Whispering this time, he said once again, “look at me.” And this time, you did.

He didn’t look angry. In fact, he looked slightly confused with something else dancing behind his eyes. You blinked. His expression didn’t change.

“Is that all you came in here to talk about?” He questioned, voice still soft. You nodded, once again pulling your eyes off of him, this time, in embarrassment.

“I didn’t say you could look away,” he scolded. Still soft, yet now demanding. “Doll, what is going on? You can tell me, trust me.” You let out a sigh before turning to fully face him.

“I’m fucked up. About this,” you said, gesturing with your other hand between the two of you. “I can’t tell if you treat me the way you do because you feel similarly or because of some power thing, but it’s fucking me up.” He nodded for you to continue. “For months now, you’ve been treating me more like your girlfriend than your assistant, and the lines have been so blurred I don’t know what to do or how to feel. It started with the pet names, and at first, it threw me off, okay? But then I warmed up to it, and they started to make me feel someway.” You continued, his expression not changing. You paused for any reaction, but got nothing. He cleared his throat before quietly saying:

“Go on.”

“I tried to write it off as just how you act around people you’re comfortable with, but I’ve never seen you treat another girl, another woman this way. Then, you started touching me. You’d put your hand on my shoulder, or you’d touch my back to get my attention, but then you started to cuddle with me on the couch, and put your arm around me when we went out,” you watch as his expression changed slightly. To what? You couldn’t describe. “Then it became more… intimate touches. A hand on my back while we were walking, brushing my hair behind my ear. Hell, even rubbing whatever skin was exposed in the car. It’s making me feel like I’m wanted but I cannot, for the life of me, figure out if it’s something you mean or not!” Your voice began to raise and tears began to spill past your lashes. As you opened your mouth to continue your rant, Schlatt cut you off.

“Because I like you.” Four words. Stated simply. No inflection or tone change. You froze, just staring up at him. The words repeating in your head, because I like you. You watched, in horror, as a smile crept across his lips. He pulled you closer to him, jerking your arm forward, until you were close enough for him to release your hand and rest both of his on your hips.

“Look, you kinda caught me at a bad time, but, I do. I really do. And I have a feeling you feel the same way. This is all fine and dandy, but I was kinda in the middle of something, and if you wanna have this conversation when I’m a little more level headed, we can dis-“ you cut him off with a kiss once again. However, this time it was reciprocated. You wasted no time trying to climb him like a tree, guiding his arms to hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, shoving your tongue down his throat in the process. You wrapped one arm around his neck, using the other to grab a fistful of his hair. Soft. Nice. You could feel him shuffle around the room before plopping you down on the bed, but not letting go. You pulled away to glance at his face; a full, dopey smile like he’d just won something unexpected.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He choked out, resting his forehead against your own. But now was not the time to be cute. You wanted him now, and you needed him bad.

“Jay, I want you to fuck me. I’m being so serious right now. I need you so fucking bad you have no idea.” You blurted out before pulling him back into a sloppy kiss. He moaned into your mouth, but pulled away.

“I- look I don’t want you to say something you don’t mean and might regret later. Like, fuck, I’ve been so fucking horny all day because of that shit you pulled at the mall, but I need to know you really mean this.” He panted, managing to be endearing while pissing you off. You had needs damnit, and you needed them fulfilled now.

“Schlatt, I’ve been thinking about this for fucking months, and I’m gonna get real pissed off if you don’t man up right now and throw me around.” You practically growled, and you looked into his eyes, they grew dark before he lunged down to pull at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Fuck, okay, but I was hoping maybe we’d have a little introductory chat before going full raging headons.” You felt one of his hands begin to wander under the slip you had been wearing, getting painfully close to where you wanted him the most.

“Jay, I just want you to fuck the shit out of me.” You gasped, lip still trapped between his teeth. His hand continued to snake up the dress, bunching it together in the middle of your chest.

“Baby, I will, but first I gotta figure out what makes you tick.” He broke the contact to slip the dress over your head, maneuvering your arms to free the garment, before taking a step back to admire the view. Your breasts sat full, spilling slightly over the lining of the bra, while the panties hugged your hips tightly, just enough to show off how well you were built. Jay had licked his lips, causing you to smirk.

“Well, big guy, like what you see?” You teased, moving to sit up on your elbows allowing a better view. Your eyes wandered south, and the age old question eating away at the back of your mind had been answered: How big was he? More than you could handle. Jay leaned down to place a kiss above your left breast, his hand coming to rest at the side of your neck.

“Like a piece of fucking art,” Was his response to your question, muffled as he sucked on soft skin. His free hand had moved to rest and on your hip once again, squeezing a generous amount of skin and making him moan. He detached his lips from your chest to meet your own again, creating a menagerie of tongue and teeth. He pulled away once again to whisper in your ear: “What do you want? I need to hear you say it.” Sent chills down your spine. You moaned in response, earning a squeeze from the hand now gently cradling your throat.

“Fuck, I didn’t think this far ahead,” was all you could choke out before his other hand had reached the clasp on the back of the bra.

“Then show me.” His response earned another moan from you, leaning up to meet his lips again. You could feel the back of the bra come loose, the straps coming to rest at your elbows. Be broke the kiss to trail his lips down the side of your neck.

“Fuck, i don’t know.” Was all you could mumble. You felt his tongue press against your carotid artery and you were putty in his hands.

“C’mon now, give me somethin’ to work with, babydoll,” he cooed, continuing to lick and suck his way across your collarbones and down your chest. “Gotta know what gets you really goin’.” You pulled back from his touch to look him over. His hair was sticking out in all directions, chest still heaving and glistening, lips slick with sweat and spit. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed you were looking at a still from some low quality Wolverine porno rip off. Just, with less hair and less claws. Still hot, nonetheless. When your eyes reached his again, the expression on his face has not changed. Oh, he really is waiting for an answer.

“Just, fuck, I dunno. Throw me around, be rough with me,” You sighed, moving to shake the bra from your shoulders. His eyes followed the motion, widening once the article had settled on the floor. He was still for a moment, causing you to speak up again. “What? Why do you have that look on your face? This isn’t your first time seeing boobs, surely.” Your tone was sarcastic. The hand previously on your throat came down to caress your chest, his index finger gently resting on jewelry newly exposed. The moment you realized what he was ogling caused you to laugh.

“Oh, yeah, those. Forget they were there.” He brushed over the nipple with his thumb, flinching when the jewelry shifted.

“Does that… do they hurt?” Earned another laugh from you, guiding his hand back over your breast once more.

“Not unless you start tugging on them, but this is your only warning about that,” He nodded and cleared his throat. You pulled him closer to you on the bed, standing in between your open legs. Trying to re-engage in the activities from moments prior, you placed a hand on his stomach, then dragging a finger, with a feather light touch, down to his waistband. Reaching the elastic and attempting to pull it down resulted in one of his hands snatching your wrist and holding it above your head.

“Nah, that’s not what we’re doin’,” his voice was gruff, stern. “This is about you right now, that can wait.” Then, in one swift motion, the wrist in his palm was guided backward, essentially pinning you to the mattress. You felt one of his knees come to rest between your thighs, spreading it a little farther out, before leaning down to press another kiss to your lips. You yelped when you felt teeth graze against your bottom lip, inviting him in. He kept the pace slow, agonizing almost, the hand not holding you down palming across your breasts with the same cadence. It was becoming too much, yet not enough all in the same. You needed more, now.

In one swift motion, you kicked a leg over his hips, pulling him down onto you. The motion caused his knee to make contact with your still-clothed-yet-aching pussy, and you to moan loud enough to wake the neighborhood (if they were asleep, that is). Schlatt pulled back in surprise, earning another moan from you.

“Look, I appreciate the foreplay and all, but I just want you to rock my shit right now before I get pissed off,” You complained, guiding his hand toward your stomach. He watched in silence, his hand inching closer toward the waistband of your panties. “I just need to feel-“ you were cut off as soon as his fingers made contact with your skin, inviting themselves between your lips with little guidance from yourself. You felt yourself grow dumb as his thumb made acquaintance with your clit. He held this position for a moment, before allowing his middle finger to prod at the entrance. “Fuck!”

“Darling, if I knew all it would take for you to stop talking was one finger we could’ve solved many-an-argument ages ago.” He quipped, the confidence in his voice making you arch your back.

“Why are your hands so big? What the fuck.” Was all you could say, earning a chuckle from him. He pumped his finger in and out a few times before retracting the hand completely. You opened your eyes, ready to snap at him for the sudden change, only to see him bring the finger up to his lips and plunge it into his mouth. He groaned and his eyes rolled back, removing the finger from his mouth with a loud “pop”. A wolf-like grin spread between his cheeks.