Working

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There was no explanation for it. You loved your day job, really. But there was something about your evening activities that just ignited everything in your soul. It was as though everything in your life, all the crap, all the shit, once you stepped foot in that building at 10pm, it all faded away. The only thing left was excitement, adrenaline, anticipation. And you were completely in control.

But like you said, you also loved your day job. Especially the person you worked directly for.

As the secretary for Mr Barnes, you were exposed to a lot of the business, but you also knew that there was a lot that you didn't know, a lot that you weren't important enough in the hierarchy to know. To everyone else, you were simply the secretary to the CEO of Barnes Global, a multi-million conglomerate that had a hand in a lot of sectors - energy, science, politics, sales. You were pretty sure if you named any well known business, Barnes Global had someone on the board there. It was a pretty common name in the business world, and Mr Barnes was a very well known individual.

Spending a year working for him, you felt like you'd come to know him somewhat, and you definitely knew his reputation. His reputation painted him as a stoic businessman, with no serious attachments, some thinking he was too young for the job at only 31, but nobody could fault that he got results where they were needed.

Personally, you knew that he was kind. At least, he was to you. He wasn't arrogant, but he knew his capabilities. He cared for the people in his business, in the offices, although you knew that he kept his circle of trust small. You weren't sure if you were in that circle yet, but you didn't mind. You also had your fair share of trust issues.

You walked into his office without even knocking, a gesture that quickly became forgotten after your first few weeks. You and Mr Barnes (or Bucky, as you called him when it was just the two of you) connected quickly, and easily, and here you were, a year later, having never regretted a second of it.

He was on the phone, as he usually was, but you set about your usual duties. Replacing the cold cup of coffee on the table with a new one, that he would likely still forget about, tidying up the files on his desk as he paced the room yelling to whoever he was on the phone to, and setting his schedule for tomorrow beside his computer. You glanced up at him as you finished up, reminding yourself of the other reason you enjoyed the job so much.

Mr Barnes was hot.

His suit jacket had been discarded on one of the chairs, but he was still in his shirt, waistcoat, dress trousers and smart shoes. He was the epitome of what CEOs looked like, but his dark hair made his sharp blue eyes stand out from across the room, and you secretly loved the fact that he always seemed to buy shirts in the wrong size, making his muscles stretch the fabric slightly.

He caught you looking up at him, and smiled, then rolled his eyes and held up a finger, telling you to wait, telling you that he was already mentally over whatever conversation he was having.

You stood patiently behind his desk, your arms clutching the old files that he no longer needed, one hand clutching the two hour old coffee mug, waiting for him to finally hang up.

"I'm not telling you again Alan, you were supposed to get this done two days ago. If the signed deal is not in my hands by one o'clock tomorrow, consider it your last day." Bucky snapped into the phone, before finally hanging up. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I told you weeks ago not to let Alan on this, Bucky." You said loudly with a smirk. He opened his eyes and chuckled, then headed over to you.

"I know you did, but I can't let the heads know that I take strategy advice from my secretary. They'll think I'm going soft." He replied with a wink as he picked up the fresh coffee and took a sip.

"Well, your lowly secretary is on the floor more than you, so maybe you should listen to her in future." You smiled back, walking round the desk and passing him. "I'll even let you take the credit."

"I'll bear that in mind." He responded, putting his coffee down, then turning to lean back against his desk as he watched you walk towards the door. "All finished for the day?"

"I am, yes." You said as you stopped walking. "I've left the Rumlow file out for you though, you need to-"

"Ugh I know." He groaned, rubbing his face over his hands.

"He wants a meeting next week."

"Tell him I'm busy."

"I've told him that for two months." You laughed, walking back over to him. "He just wants your initial proposal, so put aside your distaste for him and deal with it." You ordered as you came to stand in front of him. He licked his bottom lip as he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

Any other bosses, and you'd be terrified of talking to them this way. You and him though? This was normal for you, the friendly banter. The eyebrow and the lip thing was also just a habit for him, one that you never wanted him to stop.

"I've done a draft for you already." You added, making his face drop.

"You have?" He asked as he reached round to pick up the file and scan through it.

You laughed as you started heading back to the door. "Of course I have, because you were never going to."

"This is shit Luka!" He frowned, pointing at the pages.

"Oh I know, I made it shit so that you'd be motivated to correct it." You explained with a grin. He rolled his eyes.

"Sneaky. You up to much this evening?" He asked, even though his attention was already back at the crap proposal, and he was already picking up his pen to edit it. It meant that he didn't notice your body tense slightly.

"Not really. Same old. You?" You asked politely.

"Pretty sure it'll be some more of this." He said with a slight sigh as he sat down in his chair and dumped the file onto his desk. He looked up at you with a smile on his lips. "I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning." You echoed, and then you left.

Four hours later, you were walking into the other building that you spent your life in. You breathed in the familiar scent, observed the familiar faces, and enjoyed the familiar feeling of excitement starting to spread through you. There was just nothing like it.

At your day job, you were acting a role. Luka Jones, secretary to Mr Barnes. Seen but not heard. No one you would think to look twice at.

Here though? Here, you went by a different name, a different part of your personality, and you certainly were not overlooked, even with your iconic purple and black lace mask that everyone had come to know so well.

It was a simple mask, covering the area around your eyes, lace falling delicately over your cheeks, the ribbon tied at the back with droplets of black gems adorned over the edges. It stood out against the red wig you also wore, another aspect that everyone had come to know you by.

You nodded to the guards at the staff door, allowing them to open it for you before walking through. You headed straight to greeting and hugging the others that also worked here, before you all started filing out to the main room. You quickly took note of the regulars, the newbies, each girls' area to cover for the night, and gave a nod to the bartender, who instantly started on your drink.

You didn't own the place, but others regarded you as being third in charge. Natasha, the real red-head, was in charge. She owned the place. Second in charge was Pietro. He stayed behind the bar, acting like a regular bartender, but if anything happened, he was there in a split second, and could chuck out anyone, even if they were twice his size. After that was you, unofficially. You had simply been here long enough that everyone assumed you were part of management, and your close relationships with Nat and Pietro strengthened that assumption. Either way, you thought of this place as your second home sometimes, losing count of the times that you, Nat and Pietro ended up sleepover over once the doors were closed, bunking in her office when you were in between rental apartments, knowing that if you ever needed anything, this place was here.

You took a deep breath, smiling to yourself as you leaned on the bar, preparing yourself for a fun-filled night of debauchery.

You really loved working in a BDSM club.

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