#This is much more gracious than just like. BRINGING IT UP WITH NO EVIDENCE by going “do you actually see tho” out of nowhere lol

[olessan]

I cannot believe that I never noticed that Elendil tests if Miriel is blind before he brings it up directly, by leading the horse closer to a tree and watching to see if she avoids the low branch (that he ducks to avoid) 🤦‍♀️

[charmercharm3r]

Phases

Phase One: Emotion Sickness

LMH, HJS

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

wc: 8.7k

Story Synopsis: Whoever said patience is a virtue have never met Jisung and Minho.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, poly!minsung (jisung chapter focus), dom!jisung x brat!reader, mxm, overcome angst, alcohol consumption, unprotected but clean piv, orgasm denial, a nice lil slap, lots of teasing and back talk, marking, talk of training reader, cream pie, stupid asses in love

Phase One ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟPhase Two

Being best friends with Jisung is like living in a sitcom every day of your life. Everything about him is comical and endearing and you love every bit of him and his huge personality. You’d been friends with him for so long that when he sat you down, worried look on his face, and told you he liked both boys and girls you raised an eyebrow at him, “am I supposed to act surprised?”

“You’re not?” His expression changed from worry to confusion.

“As if we’re not a pair of bisexual assholes.”

“Wait, you like girls too?!”

“How have you survived this long?” You stood from your seat and pressed a mockingly sweet kiss to the top of his head, pulling him into a hug.

Nothing in your friendship had changed other than things were a lot more open between you and Jisung. The two of you shared love interests and swapped between them like clothes back and forth, generally no relationship going past anything other than a second date and maybe taking them home. You both even went to testing centers together to make sure neither of you contracted any of the nasty. Definitely fun, reckless things kids in college did. That was, until Jisung met Minho in your senior year.

Minho was a few years older than you both, had a permanent job and lived on his own. He was his own person that somehow wiggled his way into your duo to become a trio. You weren’t mad at it, by any means, Minho was one of the most attractive, intriguing, successful men you’d ever seen. For that reason, you questioned why he wanted to be friends with Jisung, and even more, friends with you.

It became evident early on that he wasn’t leaving either of you alone any time soon and you became used to his presence, eventually coming to the point where you wanted to be around him just as much as you did Jisung. The three of you were the pinnacle of friend groups. So bound at the hip, none of you ever realized how strange it looked on the outside.

But Jisung and Minho started spending more time together, without you. Sure it sucked and yeah, you were hurt that they never bothered to invite you, but Minho was always Jisung’s friend before he was yours. You always just thought the three of you were a package deal, not accessories to be mixed and matched.

They made up for it in time after you expressed your feelings and were gracious not to make it a bigger deal than you wanted it to be. There weren’t even any tears shed… by Minho. You and Jisung, on the other hand, were absolute jokes of a mess, faces red, covered in tears and snot running down your noses, weeping into each other’s arms because you’re both the most dramatic people any of you know. When you pulled Minho into the hug, squishing Jisung between your bodies, he thought he might’ve shed a tear with how tightly you held him. But as the two of you fell apart, Minho wouldn’t bring himself to unravel out of sheer need to protect his only two constants. So he wrapped himself around you and Jisung, blanketing you both until your breaths and heartbeats returned to normal.

“C’mon Min, it’s just a little get together. You don’t even need to bring anything other than your pretty, pretty face,” you smiled up at the brunette who was flowing about the kitchen while you sat on the counter.

“You’re in my way,” he murmured and reached around your body to grab whatever he needed.

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“Not avoiding. Just ignoring.” 

“Rude.”

Just as you spoke, the sound of the front door rang through the apartment, “who’s rude?” Jisung sounded. He kicked his shoes off and joined you and Minho, sitting on a stool at the kitchen island.

“Your boyfriend. He doesn’t wanna go to Changbin’s party tomorrow.” Neither of the two reacted at the labeled nickname. They were used to you making jokes, even turning it around and saying they were your boyfriends, too.

Minho peaked his head out from around the refrigerator door to look at you, “you said it was a ‘little get together.’”

“Potatoe, potato.”

“Why don’t you wanna go to Changbin hyung’s thing? Didn’t you agree to give him some cookbooks as a housewarming gift or something?” Jisung snatched a crouton from the salad bowl Minho was preparing, earning him a sharp look from the older.

“I just don’t feel like socializing.” Minho groaned into the fridge, closing the door around his head, hiding.

Jisung stood and wrapped his arms around Minho to playfully shake him back and forth, “pleeease, hyung?”

“Pleeease, Min?” You copied Jisung’s tone, “it’ll be so much fun. We can drink and eat good food and–”

“Fine,” he pulled his head out of the fridge and pushed Jisung away, “but we’re leaving by 10.”

None of you left by 10, and the housewarming party was not little. It was like you were back in college with how many people you didn’t know crammed into one room. And like most college parties, everyone was wasted beyond belief, even Changbin who was meant to be hosting. You, Minho, and Jisung tried greeting him only to be met by his overly affectionate persona that showed face when he was drunk. He had slung his arm over your shoulder and slurred incoherent sentences in your ear that made you laugh.

Minho didn’t like that, he shoved Changbin off of you and let him fall to the couch to let someone else deal with.

As the three of you made your rounds to greet everyone that was sober enough to speak to, you came to the conclusion that you couldn’t let your friends be shit faced without any supervision. You took it upon yourself to watch over them, keep their face out of toilet bowls so they don’t drown and put a pillow under their heads when they finally passed out. Chan was sort of helping, though only for a little because Jisung convinced him to take a few more shots knowing how much of a lightweight he is, and Chan was soon down for the count as well and taking up space on the hallway floor. Felix and Hyunjin were nowhere to be found, you could only guess they either left early or occupied one of the bathrooms to share the toilet. Seungmin refused to let you help him make it to the couch, Minho had to throw him over his shoulder to cooperate, and Jeongin followed you like a lost puppy until you coerced him into Changbin’s bed beside him where they both fell asleep.

You were too absorbed in getting all the other strangers out of the house and making sure your friends didn’t die that you didn’t realize it had probably been hours since you’d spoken to Minho or Jisung. Even if you arrived with and planned to leave with them, you suddenly felt lonely.

Turning down the music and flicking on the lights, you picked up whatever trash you could to get ahead of cleaning when you heard voices coming from the kitchen. Surely, it was your best friends because they would never leave you behind. Without thinking, you headed for the garbage can in the kitchen and hoped to talk Minho into forgiving you for keeping them out so late. The voices fell silent, as did your footsteps when you tiptoed over a passed out Chan to step into the room. You laughed at his sleeping form, using his jacket as a blanket and one of the couch’s throw pillows tucked beneath his head. 

Just as you entered the kitchen’s doorway, your eyes fell upon what was both the most confusing and entrancing of scenes. Pinned between the countertop and Minho’s body was Jisung with his fingers carding through the brunette’s hair, tugging him closer while their lips moved in together in a delicate dance. The sound of their mouths colliding and lungs striving for air was the only thing you could hear, ringing in your ears like a siren song. Minho’s hands snaked around the younger’s waist and made him look small in his grasp. You particularly watched the way neither of them seemed to be in a hurry and how gently they held one another. Your hand moved on its own, coming up to your mouth to touch your lips like they were longing for the same warmth. The movement made the plastic red cups in your hold drop to the floor with a loud clatter, scaring you into dropping everything else, too.

The two boys pulled away from each other in the blink of an eye, immediately realizing that it was you. Their stares were wide and frantic and ears tinted red. Jisung scratched at the back of his neck and readjusted his shirt, Minho ran his fingers through his hair, and both their lips plump, glossy, kiss bitten. They looked between each other and back at you, then each other again before taking a step forward in unison towards you. You took a step back, still unsure of what to do. Neither of them pressed again, just watching your movements.

“I didn’t mean to intrude…” you laughed out of nervousness and embarrassment, moreso the latter hoping they couldn’t see the pink that covered your cheeks. “I’m… I’m gonna go home.”

“We’ll come with you,” Jisung was quick to speak, holding his hand out. You backed away another step, an anxious chuckle leaving you.

“That’s okay. I– I’m gonna sleep at my own place tonight.” Jisung backed down, knowing that the sympathetic smile on your face was enough to show you weren’t mad or upset, just needing space.

However, Minho looked like a lost puppy that was just kicked to the ground, more than hurt. The sheen that covered his eyes were painful to look at, as though you’d been the one to hurt him. As far as that was from the truth, you still had to blink a few overwhelmed tears away while simultaneously feigning a smile so hard your cheeks hurt. His hands were less antsy, clutching one over his chest. As you looked between them, you swiped the stray moisture from your eyes and gave them a thumbs up, “I’ll see you guys… uh… soon… Bye.”

With that, you left, hoping the night air would make the fog in your brain dissipate.

Out of all the things you expected the night to bring, seeing your two best friends kissing definitely wasn’t one of them. By no means were you angry, not at them, at least. Confused, sure, but who wouldn’t be? More than anything, you were curious. They seemed so comfortable with each other, as though they’d been doing it for years.

If you hadn’t alarmed them, what would have happened next? If you hadn’t run away, what would they have said? If you hadn’t reacted so badly, would you be asleep next to them and not in your own bed alone?

As you laid facing the ceiling, your mind wandered back to the night before. The sounds of their wet lips smothering one another, the grip of Jisungs fingers pulling Minho’s hair so sweetly and Minho caressing Jisung like he was fine china. You wondered when the hell that had happened, when they happened. There wasn’t a day since you had expressed feeling left out that they had neglected inviting you, so how the fuck did you miss all the signs? And why was it bothering you that you did? You should be beyond the moon that your two most precious people in the world are seeing each other, because they’re perfect. They’re perfect together and you couldn’t have picked anyone better to make them happy. Right?

Right. They’re carbon copies in different fonts, strangely perfect and perfectly strange. Why does your chest feel so tight? Since when did your heart beat in your stomach? There’s no way you could be jealous, or else you’d be an even shittier person than you thought you already were.

In the two days you had been ignoring their texts and phone calls– mostly Jisungs’s– you ran through every possible explanation your smooth brain could come up with. There was that they were drunk and it was a spur of the moment thing. Though, that wouldn’t explain either of their reactions, if that was the case then they would’ve laughed it off. You also theorized that maybe Jisung had food on his face, it was a common enough occurrence that you couldn’t rule it out entirely. Yeah, that’s the one. Minho was helping him because Jisung would rather aimlessly lick his tongue around his lips than use a napkin, and it just so happened that they—

Knock, knock, knock.

You weren’t expecting anyone, and deliveries can never make it up the six flights of stairs to get to your front door. Haphazardly, you tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole. Jisung was bouncing up and down in his spot, ashy blonde hair messy like he’d just wrestled with a bear. His head snapped straight up to the dark side of the peephole, “Y/N, c’mon. I heard you walk up to the door.”

“Fuck,” you curse to yourself before letting him in.

Jisung pushed his way through before you even had the opportunity to open the door all the way, kicking off his house slippers and pacing around your living room. Slowly shutting it behind you, you leaned your back against the door and clutched onto your elbows. He waved his hands around like he was having an internal battle with himself. In fact, Jisung looked like he’d been fighting that battle for the past two days. He was still dressed in his house shorts and a ratty old shirt you remember him buying years ago, there was a hole in his sock where his big toe was and it made you smile small at his never ending hardheadedness even after both you and Minho told him to throw the pair away.

“Ji,” you called, voice cracking slightly. He stopped his stride and eyes shot teary daggers into your soul. “You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

“B– but I need to! Things are so much more complicated than it looked when you found us and you deserve answers because you’ve never once kept anything from us and–”

You took a few strong steps forward to catch him by the shoulders and came face to face. He was almost shaking in your hold, letting your hands warm the cold skin of his neck to sooth him. Jisung melted into your touch and you could feel him already beginning to calm, though his lip still trembled, so much he wanted to say but had no idea how to say it. So you spoke first, “you two are my most favorite people in the entire world. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“That’s the problem,” Jisung took your hands and guided them to his cheeks, keeping you from moving. He took a closer step into you, “you’re our favorite person. And the way you looked at us…” The way he referred to the pair of them made you feel just that much more sick in your gut. “I’d rather die than have you look at me like that again.” His hands held yours tighter, squishing your palms to his cheeks to the point of his lips puckering. 

You didn’t say anything, instead waiting for him to calm down enough so that he could articulate himself the way he wanted. When he did, Jisung sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I need to tell you something but you need to promise me you won’t run.”

“You know I have a 14 minute walking mile time.” He laughed breathily and guided you both to sit on the floor, couch behind your backs with your hands still glued to his cheeks. “You can tell me anything.”

“Min wanted to wait, but I can’t stand not talking to you for so long–”

“It’s been two days.”

“Exactly. And I’m going crazy because I love you so much…” Jisung gritted his teeth as he said it, you filled the tense silence by whispering, “I love you, too.”

“No, no… Y/N. I love you,” his tone went higher the more he spoke, scared of the blank, expressionless look on your face. Your silence made him keep talking, “I’m in love with you and I’m in love with Minho and he’s in love with you, too. We’re in love with you and I can’t take another second without you knowing that.”

Either you felt everything at once or you felt nothing at all, though you doubted the latter was the issue. The problem was that you didn’t know what it was you were feeling, the two days of voluntary solitude wasn’t enough for you to understand the panging in your chest and how your heart was about to fall out of your ass or the way you wanted to jump Jisung’s bones and hug him until you molecularly phased into his body. All that, and all you could say was, “I love you, too,” again.

It seems he had the same thoughts you did because Jisung crashed his body into yours and sent you slamming into the floor with him keeping you in a bone crushing embrace. His head stayed buried in your neck and hand tangled in your hair, the way you remember him doing to Minho. The feeling of him pulling you in closer by the roots had you wrapping your legs around his torso so the two of you were shaped around one another like a vine. How long you stayed like this, you didn’t know, just that he left supple kisses along the junction of your shoulder that made your head spin with adoration. 

More than likely it was hours later that the two of you made your way into your bed with a laughable amount of snacks and coffee to keep you awake for another two days, snuggled beneath the covers. This was normal, in bed with him doing nothing but talking and sharing your thoughts was what you and Jisung did on a regular basis. Except now, he was on his side, head propped in his palm and looking at you like you held the world in your hands. Little to your knowledge, he always looked at you like that. It was only at this moment did you realize.

“When did you and Min… get together?” Your voice was soft, listening intently.

“The same time you got mad at us for leaving you out. That wasn’t intentional and I already knew how I felt about you. I was just… caught up in the moment for a little? God, I had never felt so shitty in my life, making you cry like that.” Jisung lifted his hand to thumb at your cheek as you smiled into his touch.

“Yeah, I didn’t really appreciate that either,” you joked. “So… you’ve known you liked me–”

“Love you,” he corrected.

“Loved me,” Jisung nodded in approval. “And you told Min before you told me?”

“I was scared! You don’t have the best track record with confrontation, babe.” You both giggled at the recall of the previous night, your head falling against his chest to hide the tinge of pink on your cheeks. His free hand held your cheek to his pec and soothingly massaged your scalp until you both relaxed.

It was silent again for a little as you readjusted to lay completely in his arms, engulfed in his scent and body heat. As you laid there, your mind went through all of the times where the three of you were together, you scanned the background of your memories for all the weird stares you’d get from passersby or comments your friends made, even the times where they’d call themselves your boyfriends and how easily it rolled off their tongues.

“Okay.”

Jisung looked down at you, humming with confusion, “okay?”

“Break it down for me.” You drew meaningless shapes into his skin through his shirt, feeling his heartbeat pick up just a little. “I wanna know how this is… all gonna work.”

“Oh! O– okay, well,” Jisung took in a large breath before reaching for your fidgeting hand and intertwining your fingers. “We’ll go slow, step by step, take as much time as you need to feel comfortable. Phase one, we do everything we already do just with a few… more than friendly perks.”

You lingered on the way your hand fit in his so nicely, skin soft and his pretty fingers decorated with rings. “What about Minho? You said he didn’t want you to tell me yet.”

Jisung sighed at the mention of the older. “We let him bring it up at his own pace. He scares away like a cat, y’know.”

The longer Jisung played with your hand, the longer you yearned to touch him, more of him. Mentioning Minho made you remember the tight grip he had in the brunette’s hair, how sweet he sounded when kissing him. You bit your lip at the thought and was suddenly raging with confidence. “So,” you sat up and looked at him, now towering over his figure. “If I wanted to kiss you, would I have to wait to do it infront of him?”

“Y– you wanna kiss me?” Jisung’s eyes widened, pads of his fingers coming up to press against his lips.

Taking his hand away, you guided it to your neck the way he did to you earlier. “Since we’re being honest, I can’t stop thinking about that night, you and him.” His grip tightened just a little as your hand splayed over his chest and slowly rose up. “Can I? Kiss you?”

“Oh my god, I’ve been waiting for you to as–”

Jisung pulled you into him before he could finish his thought, slotting against you with ambition. He felt just as you imagined him, eager but mindful in how to hold you, letting you set the tone with just closed mouth smooches as the sounds of your lips smacking bounced off the bedroom walls. Both his hands found their way into your hair and pulled you impossibly closer until your body fell onto him entirely. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, kissing your best friend until you were both breathless and needy, knowing better than to do anything more.

But oh, how you wanted to. You wanted to kiss him everywhere, make him cower into the sheets and make him feel how much you loved him. There was just too much right now, too much to be figured out. A night of desire wasn’t worth a lifetime of friendship.

So as you pulled away, reluctant Jisung whining and chasing after you for more, you let your forehead rest against his and let out a satisfied laugh. “Slow,” you whispered, letting him pepper kisses to your cheeks.

“Can’t we just jump to phase three?” He breathed against your skin.

“What’s phase three?”

Jisung’s lips made their way down your neck, his tongue leaving wet streaks the further he descended. “You, me, Min, a big ass bed covered in rose petals and candle light. Maybe a kick ass playlist to set the mood–”

The sound of your phone ringing made the both of you jump as if you were being caught doing something illegal. You broke into another fit of giggles when you found out it was Minho calling you. “Hey, pretty boy,” you answer him with a grin, still looking down at Jisung who stared up at you fondly.

“Jesus, Y/N. Are you okay? Why haven’t you been answering? Are you home? I– I’ve tried calling you for days–”

“Two days, Min.”

“Days. It’s been days.” Jisung could hear his voice booming through the phone, laughing and shrugging at how it’s the same thing he’d told you.

“I’m okay.” You eased his worries with two simple words, hearing him sigh on the other end of the call.

“You’re okay,” Minho repeated, relieved.

There was a pause in his breathing, probably unsure of what to say as he walked on eggshells. You knew this about him, he needed careful approaching, as Minho doesn’t like what he doesn’t already know. “I’m coming over tomorrow,” you stated.

“I’d be upset if you didn’t.”

Chuckling lightly, you let Jisung bring your fingertips to his lips and press a kiss to them. As you smiled at the man beneath you, you spoke into the phone, “love you.”

“Whatever… Love you, too.”

“Love you, too!” Jisung yelled into the speaker before you hung up, hearing Minho let out a strangled call of the other boy’s full name and the line went dead.

Jisung immediately took your phone and tossed it aside so he could kiss you again. And again, and again, and again, until both your lips were raw and bruised and chapped.

He slept over and the two of you went over to Minho’s the next afternoon. You were dizzy with how quickly things were changing in your trio’s dynamic, but chose to embrace it rather than question it. Jisung assured you that everything will move as you chose, there was no pressure to do anything you didn’t want to— except talking to Minho. That was something the two men previously agreed that that was Minho’s conversation to have with you. It made you nervous, but if you know him like you think you do, it shouldn’t be anything to worry about.

Nothing was out of any sorts. The topic of the housewarming party was nowhere in sight as you ate lunch, stayed for dinner and even dessert, deciding to call it a night a bit later.

Days went by like that. In front of Minho, everything was the same. But when you and Jisung were alone, things began to get more and more heated. Hands roamed further, kisses became more desperate, you had to force yourself off his lap out of guilt that Minho didn’t know what was happening.

“Baby, you think I wouldn’t tell him? He knows,” Jisung explained after what was probably the fourth or fifth time that week you’ve stopped before you could even get started.

“He knows?! For how long?!” You fully slammed on his crotch, Jisung wincing in pain and accidentally knocking his head back against his headboard. Crossing your arms over your chest, you could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the heavy contact.

“For a few days— can you not sit—“

You intentionally sat deeper, crushing him. “When exactly did you tell him?”

“Three days ago— Y/N, my balls, please—“

“We could’ve had sex three days ago without me feeling like a guilty piece of shit?!”

“There’ll be no dick to have sex with if you don’t get up!” You lifted your hips with a roll of your eyes, Jisung sighing with relief as the pressure alleviated. “I briefly mentioned it in passing that you were a little weary about moving forward without talking to him.”

“Oh… Well, what did he say?”

“That he’s getting there. He’s just really embarrassed,” he caught your hands fidgeting again, holding them tightly in his own before guiding your palms against his chest.

“Embarrassed? About what?”

“How you found out. Let him tell you the details, I think it’s better that way.” You nodded, exhaling deeply as your heart sank a little that Minho was too embarrassed about the whole thing to even speak to you.

“Is he… embarrassed of me?” The sting of hot tears wanted to swell in your waterline, suddenly overwhelmed with guilt that you caused him to feel such a way. You know Minho, you know Jisung, and you know that there has never been a time where you didn’t think you couldn’t go to them for anything. You were sure that if you killed someone, they’d get rid of the body to keep you out of jail. Or better yet, help you plan the murder so none of you were even considered suspects.

Jisung sat up and wrapped his arms around your torso to bring you in for a hug, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. “Baby, baby, no. That’s not it at all!” Your small sniffle had him squeezing you tighter, “I can’t explain it to you the way that he can, but just know we love you. And we want to be with you. You know how weird his mind works. He’ll talk to you about it soon.”

Nodding in agreement, taking Jisung’s words to heart and letting your mind drift away from the brunette and back to the ashy blonde beneath you.

Pulling away from your hiding spot, the aching between your legs was still painfully present, as was the straining in his pants. Pushing his hair from his face while your other hand thumbed at his mouth, your eyebrows raised, “I’m guessing you’re not big on cock stepping?”

Laughing, falling back and taking you with him, Jisung’s hands slipped just under the hem of your shirt to feel your warm skin. “Not particularly. I’d like to have kids someday.”

You smiled as he kissed you, a simple peck that multiplied down his neck and across his exposed collar bones. He liked that area, you noted in the way his hips kicked up into yours and the grip around your waist grew stronger. His hands slipped higher until you decided to discard the shirt entirely, your bra clad cleavage proudly in his face. It wasn’t anything special, but Jisung’s eyes blew wide as though your covered breasts were the key to his life’s questions.

“How can you go from crying about our boyfriend to having your tits in my face? Like a fucking angel,” he ogled your chest unabashedly.

“I’m not even naked yet,” you giggled, blushing.

“Oh god, you’re right.” Jisung dragged his hands down his face while letting his eyes roll back and dramatically whimpering.

Leaning down to kiss him, you shot back up just as quickly, “our boyfriend?”

“Your boyfriend, my boyfriend. The broody, moody guy that cooks for us sometimes and smells really good—”

“Han Jisung,” you interrupted him once more. “Ask me the question.”

“Y’know, I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Did you, now?”

“I was waiting for the right time to say it.”

“Mhm.”

“I was! I practiced it in the bathroom mirror and I gotta say, I’d definitely date me.” Nodding your head some more, you tapped your forefinger against his cheek. “Fine, fine. Cliff notes version,” your approving hum made Jisung clear his throat. “Please do me the honor of allowing me to be your one of two boyfriends.”

“Only because you said please.”

You were flipped onto your back in the split second it took to kiss him again, a squeal leaving your lips when your head hit the pillows. The room was filled with giggles from you and Jisung, hands roaming where they never had before but feeling as though they should’ve been the whole time. He never stayed away for too long, when he took his hands away to strip off his shirt, Jisung grinded his hips deeply into you, fabric on fabric good but not nearly enough.

You’d seen him shirtless more than enough times and each time you’d wanted to run your tongue through the lines of his abs. How badly you wanted to do that now as Jisung towered over you, looking down at your body, his to devour. His eyes were dark, tiniest of glimmers when he smiled deviously. Thumb pressing against your lips, Jisung tilted his head and pouted, “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, baby.

“If it gets too much for you, call yellow, we’ll slow down. Say red and we’ll stop completely. Okay?” You nodded, understanding what you were getting into with him. There have been enough vague yet pinpoint detailed stories shared, making you all the more excited to finally experience it for yourself.

He didn’t need to force his digit past your lips, you let him in without a fight, immediately sucking and teasing him with your tongue. Jisung tsked at your eagerness, “what happened to going slow, hm?”

Teasing. He was teasing you, using your words against you because Jisung knew that’s where his strength lied. He knew he could say the nastiest of things and get away with it, he did it before everything happened and now he could say it with all intents and purposes. Your hips rutted up from under him, but Jisung’s body weight kept you pinned to the mattress. The more you squirmed the bigger he smiled. His chest heaving up and down with heavy breaths was taunting you, your free hand reaching up to trace your nails down his skin from his pec down to the hem of his pants. Jisung shivered at the feeling and you had the honor of witnessing his cock twitching.

Plucking his thumb away, Jisung smeared your saliva over your lips and cheek until his fingers tangled in your hair again, this time yanking you somehow even further against the pillows. Your wince was followed by a menacing giggle, provoking him into gripping the roots tighter. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, babe.”

“You’re so cute when you try to be scary,” you pouted up at him mockingly, laugh turning into a moan when he tugged your head up and leaned over to be centimeters away from each other.

“Is being intimidating only Min’s thing? You’ve got a lot to learn.”

“Then teach me. How scared should I be of you, baby?”

Jisung huffed and threw you back down, climbing off your body entirely and stepping to the side of the bed. You laid on your side, looking up at him as his eyes raked up and down your figure, bra strap slipping off your shoulder and house shorts riding up to just barely show the outline of your aching cunt. Jisung’s mouth watered as you waited for his response, your face feigning innocence while your body was screaming for his touch.

His hand lingered over the button of his pants for a second before crouching to your eye level. “You want the beginner lesson?”

“Advanced.” Jisung pecked your lips once more before standing tall again, finally undoing his pants and relieving the pressure. His bulge fell over the zipper, covered only by his boxers and even those seemed too tight. You bit your lip, reaching out for him. Jisung slapped your hand away and scrunched his eyebrows together, “who gave you permission?”

“I did,” you answered immediately.

“You’re not the boss, baby. Not right now. I don’t have the patience to deal with your brattiness, you’ve kept me waiting for too long already.” He took his pants off and boxers along with it, length springing free in your face.

“Why’s that? You only let Min talk shit to you?”

“Nah, you’ll see. I’ve trained him real good, and I’m gonna do the same with you.”

Jisung manhandled you to hang your head over the edge of the bed, looking at him upside down. The way he threw you around like a ragdoll was painfully arousing, you knew he worked out, but not just how strong he was. “Oh, so you can use those muscles. Who knew?”

“You’re still making jokes? Aren’t you the one on your back?”

“Aren't you the one on a leash?”

“And who’s holding the lead? You?” Jisung scoffed, taking his cock in hand and slowly stroking. It wasn’t until you saw it in his grasp did you realize the extent of his size, you turned to get a better look but was shoved back into position instantly. “No, of course you aren’t. You’re too cock hungry to even control yourself. What ever made that pretty head think it could control me?”

Holding you down by the shoulder, your mouth opened and tongue fell out as Jisung gave a few soft slaps to your cheek with his dick. As degrading as it was, nothing was more humiliating than the fact that you couldn’t stop your legs from pressing together and your hands white knuckling the sheets to stop from shoving them down your pants. He chuckled and his own jaw went slack. “See? Just a slutty little puppy. Wanting to suck on anything and everything.”

You whined a little when he forced your mouth closed with his free hand and held you steady, smearing his precum covered tip around your lips. “Aw, you sound so cute. Cute pup.”

Hips kicking higher, you let them fall back down roughly and drawing his attention elsewhere. Jisung let your jaw go to shove his cock down your throat unexpectedly, making you gag and tears immediately flood. He didn’t give you room to even think, his balls pressing against your nose and leaning over your body to bury himself deeper. Just when you thought you were going to tap out, Jisung pulled away and had you gasping for air.

“Where’d you learn to take cock so well, pup? Mind if I help myself?” He didn’t wait for you to reply, propping himself up on either side of your torso and blindly entering your mouth again. Your throat constricted around it for a few seconds, letting himself succumb to the warm, wet walls. The muffled whimper made goosebumps rise along Jisung’s skin and pull out to the tip. You swirl your tongue around and around, suckling him like a lollipop and attempting to keep your hands to yourself. As if not touching yourself was torture enough, he took a handful of the front of your shorts and pulled, center seam rubbing against your clit easily with how wet you were.

“Didn’t think you’d give in so easily,” he laughed darkly and practically holding your lower half in the air by your shorts, frantically searching for friction. “You were even easier to tame than Min, just had to tell him how cute he was and he was a goner. You? All you want is a good cock to pacify you, hm? Who woulda thought.”

The mumble of your attempted response was intelligible until he pulled away to let his dick fall from your mouth, “what was that, pup?”

“Need your cock,” you breathed heavily, finally able to now that your mouth was free.

“Yeah you fucking do,” Jisung dropped your lower half and stuck his hand down the front of your shorts, fingers swiping at youre core and spreading your arousal beneath the fabric. “Gonna make you crave me all the fucking time.”

Finally being touched had your jaw hanging open again, but he didn’t seem to notice, entranced by the lewd sound of your wetness. He wasn’t rough but not gentle either, massaging the perfect amount of pressure to the bundle of nerves and made you rub your hips into his palm. You’ve been worked up for days, desperate to come, desperate enough to grab his hand and still him, using him to your pleasure without care. Jisung let you for the time being, stuck in a trance watching the way you moved. How small your hand looked wrapped around his wrist, it’d look even prettier around his–

“Gonna cum, fuck, fuck, fu–”

Jisung stole himself away just before you could finish, killing the impending high you so deeply wanted.

“No, no! Fucking hell, why?!” You whined loudly, legs spasming from denial.

He didn't answer you, not losing any adrenaline and still able to powerfully maneuver you away from the edge of the bed, strip away your remaining clothing, and have you sitting on top of him again in a moment’s notice. Jisung sat with his back against the headboard, though low enough that your head leveled higher than his, staring down at his sweaty, smug face.

“Fucking pillow princess,” you murmured out of spite, not thinking anything of it as you reached for his cock.

Grabbing your hand tightly, “the fuck did you call me, pup?” Jisung tilted his head back and dominatingly peered at you through sharp eyes, clearly not playing.

“Pillow. Princess.” You struggled to get out of his grasp. The denied orgasm had pissed you off, initially ready to let him have his way until he stripped you of the one thing he knew you’d been pining for. This was retaliation.

The light slap across your cheek sent you into a monetary daze, eyes going wide at the sting. Jisung was already looking at you when you peered down at him, clear in the way his chin tipped up at you that you had lost that battle.

“Don’t bite the hand that fucking feeds you, pup. Be my good fucking girl and ride.” Not like you were beaten into submission, moreso talked into it, you whimpered and lip involuntarily pouted. Jisung’s handle on your wrist loosened and allowed you to take his dick in hand, pressing the tip to your entrance. As a last desperate act, you circled it around the rim, gathering your essence and teasing the both of you. “Last warning,” he threatened, not bothering to look at you as the sight of him about to enter you was distracting enough.

When you sank down, slow, inch by inch, you melted into one another as you came to the hilt, shivering once your clit made contact with the warm skin of his pelvis. Jisung’s shoulders relaxed, his hands rubbing soothingly over the tops of your thighs and up your love handles. The two of you stayed like this for a while, his domineering act washing away a little as your lip continued to tremble. He smirked, cupping your cheek, “awe, too much for you, pup?”

His counterfeit sympathy was obvious, but you’d take what you could get, nuzzling into his palm and nails digging into his abdomen. Jisung nodded along with you, jutting his lower lip out while also reading your face for any sign of discomfort. He knew you had limits, just testing where they were knowing fully well you could stop if you wanted.

Though, you shook your head, no, brows scrunching together and eyes blinking away pleasureful tears. You were already breathless and overwhelmed, leaving red crescents into Jisung’s skin wherever you laid your claws, but he seemed to like the pain. He pushed your hands deeper into him and looked straight into your eyes, “ride.”

Experimentally, you leaned forward and lifted your hips, sinking back down almost uncoordinatedly with how excited and overwhelmed you were. Jisung could feel your thighs shaking as you sat down fully on him, he placed his hands on your love handles and gave an encouraging squeeze.

Raising again, you slammed down harder, repeating the action until you found a steady rhythm. Filling and emptying, again and again, you were dizzy with how good it felt. Heat flushed your body as you lost yourself in working against him, genuinely paying no mind to the man blushing beneath you. Jisung gazed at you in awe, adoration as you enjoyed yourself. He didn’t even feel the need to help you anymore, putting his hands behind his head and took in the sight of your tits bouncing with each motion. The longer you kept your pace, your knees and thighs burned and muscles began to grow tight. You changed the position slightly, propping one leg up and using that leverage to continue. But even that became tiresome, finding yourself growing much too emotionally saturated to bring yourself to orgasm.

Jisung could feel this, your frustration, and he felt somewhat bad that he hadn’t given you the first high. Only somewhat. Seeing you work yourself into a whining, moaning mess made him smile to himself and sit up to press his chest to yours. Jisung peppered kisses along your collarbone and softly worked you down to a slow grind. Your heart rate fell steady as he finally indulged you with a sweet kiss, stark comparison to the mean words he spat earlier.

He wouldn’t be Jisung if he didn’t leave you wanting more, pulling away prematurely and leaning back again, this time taking you with him. He guided your hands to hold onto the top of the head board and smother his face in your breasts. Marks he bit into your skin felt more pleasurable than painful, you wondered if the slap before truly hurt or if you were just shocked.

Your grip on the headboard tightened as his hands lifted you a bit more by your bottom and spread your knees wider. Jisung jutted up slightly, testing his and your patience. He did this again, shallowly thrusting just the tip into you, making you moan, “Ji, baby, pleeease.”

“Am I still a pillow princess, pup? You couldn’t even get yourself to cum, now I have to do all the work.” Even if it was mean, his tone of voice like mothering a toddler that was learning to eat on their own, gentle teaching.

“Hnghhh, nooo,” you mewled.

“No, what, pup?” Jisung continued his depthless ruts, egging you on.

“Can’t– need to– wanna cum–”

He could hear how fragile you were now, overall amazed by you to the point he wanted to ditch the entire facade and give you everything you wanted. Though, he needed to see it through till the end, more like to prove to himself that he could do it in the first place.

Adjusting his hands to grip your love handles firmly, Jisung kept you in place to thrust up into you. You were caught off guard at how quickly he gave into your needy pleas, knees almost giving out below you. But Jisung was quick to catch your weight, every thrust up as you fell down kept you bouncing once again, tits jiggling in his face delightfully smothering. The minor slap he left to your ass made your cunt clench and cry out louder, then repeating just to get a reaction. Jisung wasn’t sure what he loved more, how naturally your body responded to him or how you couldn’t seem to get enough.

Your hands moved from the head board to his shoulder, wrapping around his neck to brace yourself on and to feel as close as possible. Here, you were coming undone quicker than expected, having him doing the work now let you fall victim to the euphoria of his cock nudging the sweet spot within you, stars behind your eyelids. Ripples of pain from Jisung teething at your skin meshed with the pleasure, you didn’t realize how loud you had gotten until you couldn’t hear him nor the skin on skin anymore.

Body shaking, coveting for the high and well on its way, you snuck your hands into his hair and hardly needed to tug to have Jisung’s head falling back and looking up at you through his lashes. His thrusts kept a steadier rhythm, digging his heels into the mattress and coercing you into meeting his lips in a jolty, electrifying kiss. Just as your lips met, the tip of his cock hit your soft spot right on target, shoving you face first into the feeling you’d been dying for. Your body tensed and clenched around him, fucking you through your orgasm until it eventually subsided.

A bit longer you let Jisung use your body to chase his own, he deserved it for putting up with your sharp tongue. Even that didn’t take very long, Jisung had been fending off his orgasm for over twenty minutes, from even before you took your shirt off.

And when the white light blinded him, Jisung let out a string of curses and your name, hints of whiney whimpers in between. He was exceptionally quick to recover, immediately noting your state of mind and body and helped you to lay down.

You winced as he pulled out and used his shirt to catch any spillage, holding it to your cunt before he airlifted you to the bathroom. You had forgotten whose house you were in, that’s how hazy you’d gotten.

Jisung let you finish your business, kissing your forehead and wiping your body down with a wet rag once you’d called his name to help you back to bed.

The bed in question was beyond messy, fitted sheet undone and comforter on the floor. Did Jisung always sleep with just one pillow? No, there were the other three strewn about the perimeter of the bed, one somehow ending up at the foot of it. Jisung, seeing where your head was at as he set you down to lay back, said, “got a bit carried away, didn’t we?”

“We?” You joked, voice horse. He gave you a wink and ran off to grab some water before retreating into the space next to you.

Neither of you bothered to get dressed, laying naked in one another’s arms as you decompressed together. “You’re not as rough as I thought you’d be,” you admitted, rolling over and throwing a leg over his torso.

“I’m not? Noted,” Jisung raised an eyebrow and kissed your forehead again. “If we’re giving feedback, I’d say Minho is gonna have a hell of a time with you. He’ll like the whole brat thing.”

“Did you?” You look up at him, genuinely just curious.

“That’s not even a question,” he waved it off, scoffing because how could you not tell that he was internally cursing himself for not confessing to you sooner if that was the outcome? “Everything I could ask for and more.”

“I liked the nickname a lot. No one’s ever called me that before.”

“Yeah? It suits you. Cute puppy,” Jisung wrapped his arms around your shoulders and squeezed tightly, knocking the air out of you. “But I’m curious,” his voice dropped just a little. “You think of us? Me and Minho?”

“Well— yeah. And honestly, I thought the roles would’ve been reversed.”

“You think he’s a top? Oh, sweet, sweet, baby.” Jisung pecked loving kisses to the top of your head, “he’s half a power bottom at best.”

“To be fair, I didn’t even know he liked girls,” the whisper in your tone softened along with Jisung’s touch, moving to gently run his fingers through your hair.

“He’s the real pillow princess, baby. You might have to knock some sense into him.”

Smirking up at him, “you’ll let me?”

“I’ll let you do anything you want to him.”

“Mmm, you wouldn’t mind if I mark him up?” Jisung’s eyebrow raised, intrigued, “let me cover him in pretty bruises?”

“I’d kill to see that, pup.” You were being smothered in kisses once more, closing your eyes and falling victim to his sweet touches. “But tell me what else you think about. You’ve piqued my interest.”

“You want me to tell you that I fantasized about my best friends making out?”

“Duh. Me, though, tell me what you think about me.” You could just tell he was wiggling his eyebrows with a sly smirk.

You groaned, “in the morning. Tired.”

Jisung took hold of your shoulders and shook you side to side, whining, “nooo, puppy, pleeease? Just a few compliments then I’ll leave you alone, I swear.”

Protests went in one ear and out the other with him, not letting you lay still until you gave him what he wanted. “You’re so lucky I like you, fucking menace.”

“Just like?” His mouth fell open into an “O.”

“Love. I love you.”

It was a lot easier to say when you had your face buried in his chest, not having to look him in the eye as you did. You knew that if you had been looking at him, you might’ve broken into tears, which would’ve made Jisung cry, too. That still didn’t stop your face from heating up and being hit with another rush of emotions.

“How much?” He teased, thankfully not seeing your eyes glaze over.

“I love you a lot. Like, a monumental amount and… Min, too. It’s scary,” your voice falling short and nuzzling your cheek into his skin.

Jisung let you take your time to slow your breathing again before he spoke, “I’d kiss you but I’m scared if I look at you, I’ll cry like a baby.”

“I know you will. Just hold me?”

He did, tighter, if that was even possible. “I will, just like this. Except when Min’s here, he’ll be right behind you to keep your cute booty warm when you fall asleep. You won’t have any space to move ‘cus neither of can stand to not be touching in some way. You’ll probably overheat and be on the verge of death by heatstroke, we give off heat like fucking furnaces. I’ll have a little snack on my side table in case you get hungry in the middle of the night, or you can roll over and get a few cuddles from Min, I won’t be upset, cross my heart.” You giggled at that. “We can move into his place since we all know he has the biggest bedroom, or we can look for another place to fit all three of us and give you a nice, big closet. Every night, we can take turns cooking and let Min throw a fit when we both burn the food so he ends up cooking for us anyways…”

Your chest was filled, warm and sickeningly sweet with the words Jisung continued to whisper in your ear until you eventually fell asleep. The nauseating feeling of waiting, wondering was nowhere near now that there was a clear landing for where you stood in their established relationship, at least, for now.

-

A/N: YAYAYAYAY phase one!!! idea: 10/10, execution: 4/10...I've been having a hard time connecting ideas lately and I think it's just stress but I'm hoping this lived up to expectations ://

feedback!! feed me!! I love love love hearing what you all think! it really does help me improve as a writer, even if it's constructive!

reminder to drink water, eat three meals a day, give your loved ones a hug. < 3

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @aliferousminho @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @angelica-erin-caelius @dazzlingligth @lvrmin @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten

story tags: @bookwyrm28 @ladylexis @blankdyean @sujurunaway @mal-lunar-28 @pussy-drunk @bangchxnnie @lyramundana @bumblebee-zone @bloopreads @propertyoftoru @ana-stasssiaaa @iheartjozzy @kurxxmi

[ghostieeeee]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐: 𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐓

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Possible spelling errors? :D

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

The day had passed by fairly quickly, you spent your breaks cooped up in the library with your friends and Eunchae, and although classes were basically a death sentence, you managed to survive till this point at least. The last ten minutes of the day. But despite the reasonably short time, every minute seemed to drag on to become an excruciatingly tiring sixty seconds.

The classroom has become your penal institution, keeping you locked up for good as a consequence for your naivety and lack of knowledge. It felt restricting, but this was one of the limited classes you share with a friend- your dearest Kim Chaewon.

“I hate this” There she goes again, complaining about the class- she's only complaining because of her lack of understanding over the topic you're currently covering. “I don’t understand why we can’t just study this ourselves, Sir has almost sent me to sleep with this lesson multiple times!” she whisper-yells, avoiding all eye contact with the teacher himself as she jots down notes into her personal notebook.

“It’s school, Chae, most things about school are bound to get boring sooner or later” You feel yourself smile at her annoyed huff, shaking your head lightly out of habit. “There isn't that long left until you're home free”

“Huh? Where are you going after school?”

“My english partner invited me to a coffee shop so we can start our assignment together”

In the corner of your eye, you notice the sudden stop to her note-taking and the turn of her head to face you,”Wouldn’t you have started that in class with them?”

“We were planning a few things. We still need to research more and actually begin to type it out or whatever” you explain, ignoring the strange look Chaewon was giving you.

“Mmhmm… Who’s your partner this time?”

“Aren’t you nosey today?” You stifle a small laugh,”If you must know, I'm paired with Kang Haerin”

“As in the shy popular girl, Haerin?” Her voice was laced with an undertone of uncertainty and concern,”You know this could bring attention to yourself, right?”

“Yes, I'm very much aware, but at least she wants to do the project. I’d rather face minor attention than have to do a whole assignment again. Chae, I was extremely sleep deprived last time, I became almost erratic” You let out a gusty sigh,”It’ll be something quick. We agreed to get the project done as soon as possible, and that's that”

"I'm just looking out for you, you know how much I love you"

"I know, Chae, but I know what I'm doing"

You listen to her sigh. You're almost certain the only reason she hasn't pummelled you to the ground yet is because you're her friend. You have too much of a backstory together for her to just bury, quite literally and figuratively. Three years has certainly been a show in the making when it comes to you. "If this comes back to bite you in the ass I'm here for you"

"You always have been, and I appreciate it a lot. I appreciate you a lot…" You pause to glance at your friend, sharing a gracious smile with each other,"get back to your work"

"Yes ma'am," Chaewon nods, turning her attention back to her note-taking as her wrist goes into immediate overtime.

The next seven minutes dragged on by, making your every movement feel slugged as a result. Students were evidently done with the Monday hassle as most flickered between the clock on the wall and the clock on their phones. They were desperate to leave and confine within the comfort of their homes- preparing for either an early night's worth of sleep or none at all.

However, after what felt like three hours worth of agonsing torture, the same mellow ring of the school bell radiates the air, completely sending the class to carnage. Students hadn't even waited for the teacher to dismiss them. They hadn't even waited for him to finish his sentence before they were already out the door and very well down the hallway.

“Free phone?” Chaewon speaks up, nudging you slightly as she nods to the seat on your left. It was completely empty, the boy you sat next to had vanished,”I guess someone was in a rush”

“That doesn’t mean we should take it though. Who knows what's stored on that thing?” You speak with a slight disgust, putting your notebook into your bag.

“I suppose,” she grins, “but that won't stop me!”

“Hey, hey! That's not your phone to take!” You complain, trying to block her sight of the black cased device.

“I'm not going to keep it, you make it seem like i'm the villain” Chaewon rolls her eyes, her grin having transformed into a misleading frown.

You shake your head, walking past the forgotten possession,”maybe you are the villain, maybe you're not… who knows?”

“That's cruel”

“Maybe?” You stop outside your classroom, hand tightly gripping the material of your bag’s strap. “Time to socialise” you sigh, having already spotted the girl you're meeting with.

Has she told Minji?

“goodluck Y/n, you might need it”

“Thanks Chae” You're both quick to separate- with Chaewon taking off in a hurry to find Kazuha, and you staying to meet with Haerin.

It wasn't uncommon for Chaewon to scurry off to meet Kazuha, they are neighbours afterall, but you're still stuck in the state of wishing someone you know would join you to help ease your mind a little.

Friend or alone, you're still going either way.

“Are you ready?” Turning your head to the meek voice, you find Haerin already looking at you with her same stoic face. That sweet voice had almost no correlation to the way she presents herself outwardly.

“Yeah, i'm ready”

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

Pushing past the glass door, a fresh ambience of crushed coffee beans rade your nose. The warmth from the heaters attacked the chill you had brung in with you. The late October air stood no chance here. The exterior was cloistered and closed, so many tables and such little space, but you suppose that only added to the acquaint charm of the business.

Slightly trailing behind Haerin, you make your stop at the partly busy counter, where a female from your chem class stands, her hands occupied with retying her coffee stained apron. “Hello, welcome. What can I get for you today?”

It was Jiwoo- one of your sister's other friends- they are perfect friends in all honesty, them and another girl called Sullyoon. The three of them are almost always in other people's business for no clear reason. Like you said to Chaewon earlier, you were certain they were working against you with their weird spying techniques.

“Y/n?” You hum to Haerins call, eyes connecting with the barista's apron in front of you as your throat squeezes itself shut momentarily. “I’ll just get whatever Hearin ordered” You almost squealed out.

“Very well,” Jiwoo nods, placing your order through “That’ll be eleven-thousand won please”

“I’ll pay,” Haerin declares, having already pulled out her card and inputted the pin. You had no chance to even get a word in before she had already paid for the order.

“Thank you, we’ll bring your coffees over to you when they're ready”

“Thank you” You and Haerin surprise each other alongside yourselves with the sudden synchronisation to your words. While it was a generic response, and literally anyone could have done that, it was still surprising. Unbeknownst to you both, however, was that Jiwoo had judged this with narrow slitted eyes, her mind booting and reeling in any possibilities of your strange outing. Never has she ever seen you both talk- let alone in unison. As far as Jiwoo knows, this could even be a drug deal, and obviously, you're the sourcer.

Taking your seats at a round, plastic top, table- located somewhat close to the counter- you pull out your laptops, your hand also moving to unsheath the sheet from earlier. You kept the paper in case you ever needed to use her email again- fortunately, for now, you have not.

“What part do you want to follow up on?” Haerin questions, without looking away from her screen, her mouth left to hang slightly agape.

“That sounds creepy” you mumble, pondering over your options. However, your focus lifts at the sound of a small chuckle.

Was that Haerin?

Looking up only confirmed your suspicion. It really was Haerin. Her little chuckle was a first with you, and her widening smile only made her look all that much more like a cat. The corners of her eyes were pinched as she smoothed out her shirt.

“Not in that way. I don't think you’d be able to follow a printed sentence home”

Feeling yourself smile at her lighthearted attitude, even if it may only be temporary, you respond in the same demeanour “Doesn't it technically follow me home?”

“Because it’s in your bag?”

“Yeah” you observe the girl opposite you as her nose scrunches up.

“Maybe you have a stalker…” she almost whispers.

“Should I report it?”

“Maybe… I wouldn't want some random stalker if I were you”

“Two iced americanos?! A third voice intrudes, a voice you’ve heard so many times coming from your sister's room late at night when she's on facetime with her friends. Jiwoos' other partner in crime- Sullyoon. Of course they would both work together in the same establishment.

“Yes, that's us” Haerin responds as her smile retreats back into the shadows of her more introverted personality. “Thank you”

“Thank you” you repeat Haerins' words after Sullyoon places your own drink in front of you. “So… an iced americano, huh?”

Haerins face flushes a dusty red,”I know it’s not everyone's favourite, sorry if you don't like it”

“That's alright, I’ve never had this order before” you speak, holding the beverage between your fingers and palm as you evaluate it through the glass cup provided. You rarely ever hang around long enough to stay inside of a coffee shop, so having a glass container is certainly new to you.

“Oh… well, I promise it isn't as bad as the students at our school make it out to be”

“It’s okay, I trust you, i’ll try it in a minute." Haerin nods, shifting herself back on the purpose of your meeting- the english project.

“That’s good to know, since we’re doing a project together and what not”

“I suppose I have no other choice but to trust you”

“Possibly…” Haerin trails off, quickly glancing at you before she's completely immersed in her own world.

“I’ll start on the words of Shakespeare” You finally answer her question, earning a hum of approval from the brunette.

“Okay, i'll start on modern literature then”

Was it really a necessary idea to give a bunch of high schoolers a project based on the evolution of english literature and the culture surrounding it? Probably not. But are you going to try your best to get the best result possible? Absolutely… with a little help from your new partner, of course.

You just hope nothing bad comes from this…

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

: Dating in a high school full of love thirsty teenagers was never really something you wanted. But of course, things change- and you learnt that in more ways than one. Kim Minji, one of the more popular students. Hong y/n, probably the most invisible person alive. They couldn't possibly be dating… or maybe they could be? You never know what goes on behind closed doors.

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: [𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍]

@jeindall777 @feisrants @thefckghost @everydayiloveyves @nasyu-kookies @justdelulumeh @feb14-kid

@ehcyps @imjeyjjey @winteresss @haechansbbg @urwyf3

@idkwhatim-doinghere101 @imahallucination11 @sserajeans @lesleepyyy @jennasluma @kaypanaq

@petruchiosstuff @pandafuriosa60 @haexrin07

[hardcoreprocess]

[KO-FI REWARD] BATCH 1 // SLOT 4: An extremely secluded vampire coven has an unexpected visitor. Though unplanned, the Lalondes are nothing if not the most gracious of hosts.

Snow is an age-old motivation for the lost and those prone to trespassing. It sticks to fabrics of all types, heavy and digging needle-sharp cold into bones. Joints, primarily. The weight is unbearable after a mile, worse after five, mountainous when the count is lost. But like a moth, helplessly bewitched by flame…

This is something meant to be seen through, to the end.

A small town once offered shelter. Not far, but further than realized, from this perilous destination. “There are women up that way,” said one adventurous local, who claimed the journey was almost forgettable. Insistent on that detail, in fact.

Yet even now, disparagement slips away. Like water, sand, through trembling frostbitten fingers. A glazing of ease, a balm that soothes away any want for warmth, unless provided by the sprawling mansion ahead.

“Strange women,” the local had said, eyes half-lidded in listless recall, “—Taller than trees, with spidery hands. They are firm, but soft. Eager, son. They are so eager.”

That word will not unstick. Burned, branded onto a lonely mind, unlikely to be forgotten. Company is rare for a traveler, and much-wanted. Yearning is a beast, hungry, clawing, bearing a battered body through a gate barely cracked open. Just wide enough, just inviting enough.

Come in. Out of the cold.

Doors older than familiar foundations creak, opening on the first of desperate presses. An entryway, devoid of light but lingering with heat. Seeking the source is mindless, guiding every step deeper despite unsightly stains or evidence of…

As before, the thoughts are slipping away. Mesmerized, taken, downright spellbound. Snow and ice are stomped from trudging boots with ease, forgotten in clumps that lead from half-wide entrance to flickering hearth. Collapsing there is easier than any other action ‘til this moment. Here, it is time to bask. Aches are tended by flickering kisses of—

Touch?

“What is it,” comes the murmur, “—so small and frail?”

“A man-thing, Mother calls them. Shaped like us, but malleable. See how it shakes?” And shakes does not begin to cover the bone-deep terror that lives within. Chest heaving, beset by palms unburdened by things like mortality or the whimsical passage of seasons. Fear is king, but not in the hosts that gather around, crowd close.

They are jewel-eyed. Brilliant white fangs flicker in bloodless faces, curiosity or something more lurking. Thankfully, one seems keen to make a fine impression. Her tousling of sweat-soaked hair is almost gentle, barring the scrape of nails too long— too sharp —to be natural.

Her hands are… warmer now. “Poor little beast. No wonder it heeds our invitation. You were caught in the rain?” Forgetfulness is not a familiar thing, but it must have been what happened. Outside, there is no snow. On the rug, only puddles. The damp is beginning to lift from feverish flesh, and the girls are crowding ever closer.

No words come. But the hosts, the ladies, see no fault in that.

“You must be tired, little thing. Come. You will see yourself to a warmer place, better than our dirty hearthspace.”

Better? Is that even possible, cradled to her bosom this way, lost in her amethyst eyes?

“My nieces will tend your scrapes.”

When did the injuries appear? Cuts and bruises, from climbing or slipping?

“Rosalind.”

The eldest, besides the gentle one. Stout, round, impishly smirking at the state of undress. Clothes are being tugged free from every direction. Impossibly safe. No concern for one’s own safety, wrapped in forgiving embrace.

“Roxanne.”

Taller. The tallest, maybe. Sharp features but a soft composition, hips nearly as wide as her sisters’ collective. She is tending to the boots, left behind, set on a tray beside the fire to dry. A cotton weave pulls tight over her body when she stoops, bringing to mind… many things. Wanting, desirous things.

“Jasmina.”

Smallest, roundest, youngest. Bouncing with energy, practically alight. Mischief is afoot, because this one pulls. At hair, fingers, toes, and— south of the belt. Gasps are escaping, unable to be stifled. Is it meant to feel this good, laid back in a bed that smells of copper aftertaste and perfume too expensive to conceptualize?

“Stay a while, little beast. We would be honored to have you for supper.”

[the-firebird69]

The muck is going out about 1 ft per day and that's for high tide low tide cycle tonight it will go out around probably 1:30 a.m. it keeps doing that and it'll be about 3 ft left in the harbor and two foot in the river and it's getting there it's really blown it out it's very it's very positive and the canals too are almost clear fully and you're going to be able to see him and you'll see fish and all sorts of things it's going to be great right now lake Okeechobee is bursting with people they're going out there and they're scanning and they're digging and finding skeletons and they're finding tons of them and Trump found tons of his. The clones are not there and I see it it's a huge story so we're going to publish

Thor Freya

I'm selling a lot of boats to police huge numbers came to me this morning does he want my version so not sure what version yours is no they said they already talked to you and you won't change in the price and I said I'll make them a deal I didn't want a million so I gave him a couple hundred thousand off and then send me the contract

Hera

I sort of figured out something she's going to have some business and it's good and I know what I'm doing and her her boats are very nice and they're more rugged and we'd like them for police boat

Zues

Thank you. And I hope you keep doing it and really it was one police group from New York and that's a lot of boats he says and they said all up and down the river they have skeletons and all sorts of evidence and everybody wants these boats now they want to dredge and they want to have boats around and they want to stop people from going in the water and it's tons of stuff like that going on all over the world I have an order of 500 million votes now well it's a combined order different people it is that yours are well over a billion I'm catching up I'm going to put mine in stores and I'll start selling lot more

Hera

We have a few stores we can put them in at least you can and I'm going to start bringing mine to both places so I think you should do it and we should open a couple dealerships together they sell tons of different boats together and we should sell a couple brands at least three brands now four but really we have two going so they like it

If your husband and wife split down in the middle

Zues

There's some laughter but no they like it and this is going to be great we're going to compete sort of

Frank Castle

This is where we separate a little no I'm going to work with you but I'll be over there some of that other boat but I do appreciate it and the service department will be the same this is going to be a lot of fun this is more fun than I thought it would be

Hardcastle

Good gracious we're going to need stretchers

Duke Nukem

Don't worry they're already there they're made out of plastic

Blockbuster

We're going to get on with us they're humor is terrible and they're looking for a model that they can put muck in it and he says barge is usually but really they won't work for a smaller areas

Olympus

I usually it's a barge and you would have like a tug so I'm going to make like a little tugboat version and each company and it's going to be for pushing a barge around and sell a barge and we can put impact resistant plastic but he says I don't think so well like the metal and we agree it's going to get scraped and banged and dinged and driven on so I'm going to design it now

Thor Freya

How much do you think these barges would cost

Uriel and Goddess Wife

Say a 15x20 would be about $3,000 us and then like a 8x10 would be like 1500 US dollars and he's saying send me 5 million of each so we're going to do that

Thor Freya

We need 10 million of each and actually just making the big one and right now I'm going to write it up I'm going to try and send over the literature if you don't hear about it send over a fax back and ask about like whatever size 20x30 send over the size you want and quantity and I will

Mac

[cruelprincae]

A heated glare is cast in Azriel's direction as he crosses the distance from the kitchen's archway towards the sink in sight of the much unflattering and condescending sobriquet ― albeit one he is not necessarily unfamiliar with ― and even though his lips part, ready to counter the insult with an even worse one that is ensured to jeer the shadow singer, Cardan is quick to bite his tongue for he does not wish to engage into an argument ― not right now, at the very least. It's still very early in the morning and he is content with just enjoying the cup of tea alongside his portion of cheese pressed in two slices of bread; which is more than he can say for Azriel, who judging by the looks of it, has spent the night doing anything other than sleeping. Like maiming, torturing, or perhaps, even going as far as to say killing.

Squinted black eyes rimmed with gold soften from their glare to instead glance down at the bloodied gloves, with a manicured brow arched in plain curiosity. Placing the porcelain cup upon the table's wooden surface, the former Prince reaches to tap the pillow of his digits against the dark substance and brings it up to his lips where his tongue carefully lapses against the very tip of his finger, licking it clear and savouring its taste. Iron, is the first thought that comes to mind when the metallic taste is registered within his mind; and if there is iron present in the trailing of blood, then that can only mean that Azriel was telling the truth, that the blood truly does not belong to another Faerie ― or critch, if one wills to use the derogatory term. However, such can only mean that it belongs to a mortal ― a person of the burgh.

Good gracious Mab.

❛ That is mortal blood. ❜ He concludes, but seeing as though such a statement does not even make the shadow singer budge from where he is hunching over the sink, Cardan continues, far more pressing this time; ❛ Burghish blood. How on earth did you get a handful of burghish blood ? Unless. . . ❜

No, that is a thought he does not wish to begin to entertain even for the briefest of moments. For if it truly is mortal blood and Azriel has not decided to play a nasty trick on him, that can only mean that he has gotten his hands upon a burgish man; which can only mean that if a burghish man is under their roof dead ― or worse, alive ―, then the remainder of the burgh must be looking for him; and, as a result, if the Burgh is looking for him, then it is only a matter of time before the entirety of the burghish police breaks down their door and arrests them both, with their only evidence being the mere speculation that a crime against a mortal has been committed by a couple of lowlife critch. And from the word of Philo who had spent a good amount of time detained in the Burghish police station, a stay in the cell was absolutely horrendous; that is unless they were to be brought to execution. The latter is something the entirety of the burgh would cheer for, after all, given their inherent dislike for anything Fae-related.

He really hopes this isn't mortal blood.

❛ I beg of you to tell me that you did not decide to copy Vinnie and maim or torture an armed mortal who may or may have been standing by the boarded-up entrance and is missing right about now. ❜ Breathes out the Fae in evident distress, but alas, he can do little other than expect the answer and sincerely hope he is gravely mistaken. When the subject switches to the meat he was supposed to buy when he went out earlier that day, Cardan merely shrugs his shoulder before gesturing towards the paper bag currently leaning over the edge of the table, with a patch of vegetables ― with a generous amount of rot by the very end of the leaves ― peaking through its paper hem.

❛ As you are well aware, the Row is going through hard times. When I went to the market earlier today there was barely anything that was not touched by rot, so I chose a few selective things that were least into the decomposition progress. ❜ States the Raven head, as he takes a sip from his still-heated tea. For the first time in the dreaded year that the carnival row has been locked up, Cardan was delighted to see the rot plaguing every waking side of each loaf of meat. At least now he wouldn't have to make one excuse after the other for why he did not buy meat. ❛ Long story short, I purchased cheese and vegetables for soup and a couple mushrooms for the likelihood that you might want to use them as a substitute for meat. ❜

❛ i'm not asking you to touch anything, princling. ❜ Azriel resists the urge to roll his eyes as he wonders if Cardan is too precious or if it's simply that he himself has been living for so long in the row that he'd become completely desensitized to violence. probably the latter. he walks to the sink in silence and washes his hands before drying them. ❛ though, if it makes you feel any better, the blood doesn't belong to a faerie. ❜ he opens the icebox to make himself lunch. he sighs. there isn't any meat for his sandwich. then, he checks the chores schedule and reads cardan's name in the grocery column. well, that explains this. he thinks. ❛ i'm pretty sure i had put ham on the grocery list. ❜ and big enough this time so you couldn't say you missed it.

[archived-kin]

you braid your favourite fire boy’s hair (and get indirectly confessed to, maybe)

note from kin: some of you may say that diluc is too calm and stoic to be an arsonist but i refuse to believe the man hasn't set a tiny bit of fire to kaeya’s house at some point or another

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, diluc, aether (mentioned), venti (mentioned)

pairing(s): diluc/reader

warning(s): none! (except, like, hair brushing and stuff? i don’t if that counts but i also don’t know what sort of trauma people have so,,, here’s the warning just in case)

genre: fluff

“How do you even manage your hair?”

Diluc shoots you a look over the bar as you lean forward on the counter. “What are you talking about?”

It’s another one of those nights where Mondstadt and the area around it is pretty quiet. Normally you’d be out doing commissions or just general favours for the public with your adventuring buddy Aether and his friend (pet? guardian fairy?) Paimon, but he’s been in Liyue for the last week or so helping Zhongli run some errands, and likely won’t be back for another few days. He had asked you whether you’d wanted to come with him - the two of you make a dynamic duo like no other, after all - but the last time you’d spent time with Zhongli, you’d ended up having to pay about ten thousand Mora in terms of expenses on his behalf. You love the guy, but he really grinds your gears with his inability to comprehend how basic currency works sometimes.

So off Aether had gone to Liyue, though not without promising to bring you back a Starconch or something in return for your offer to patrol his area for him in his absence, and you had stayed behind in Mondstadt, promising to let him know if anything about his missing twin sister comes up while he’s gone.

As much as you’d like to (mostly for poor Aether’s fragile sense of self worth), you can’t say it’s been a particularly difficult week without him in terms of work - you miss your friend, of course, but there haven’t really been any outstanding attacks in the area that you didn’t manage to take care of within the hour. The lack of disturbances also means that Mr Darknight Hero over there hasn’t had much to do either, so he’s spent most of the past few nights behind the bar - which means, of course, that you’ve been coming is much more often than usual to see him.

Angel’s Share is a bar by trade, so of course it’s open all night to any gracious patron looking for something to drink. More than often it’s full, being one of the more renowned taverns in the city, but today is a day of rest, and so Diluc had closed up shop about half an hour ago.

Why are you still allowed in Angel’s Share if it’s closed, you ask? Well, obviously it’s because Diluc likes you so much!

No, that’s a lie - while you’ve always thought of Diluc as a close friend, you’re more inclined to believe that Diluc himself is only letting you stay here past closing time because he owes you for helping him out with a particularly overzealous Abyss Mage that had gotten a little too close to the city gates yesterday.

Still, you can’t help but hope that there’s some other reason behind his lenience...

“Hair’s hard to take care of, and you have a lot of it,” You respond matter-of-factly, dipping a biscuit into your mug of tea and shoving it whole into your mouth. Much like Diluc, you prefer to abstain from alcohol when you can - ironic, considering you’ve spent so much time in a bar recently. “I’m just curious. What do you do with it when you go to sleep?”

He shakes his head with a quiet scoff and returns to polishing an empty tankard. “I don’t do anything with it.”

“What, so you just leave it in a ponytail all the time?”

Diluc looks up to see you shooting him a scandalised look. He sighs, evidently not particularly willing to put up with one of your moods this late at night. “Of course not.”

You relax a little, only to stiffen right back up when he continues, “I take it down to wash it.”

“You—” You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself, setting your elbows on the table and pressing your hands together as if praying to Barbatos to save this poor man’s hair-ends. Finally, after a moment of silence, you ask, voice hushed, as if afraid that the answer will be too much for you to handle, “How the hell is your hair still so pretty?”

Diluc pauses in the middle of putting his freshly-polished tankard away. He takes a long while to formulate a response - whether because he’s nonplussed by the gormlessness of your question or something else (because he’s flustered, maybe? You know better than to hope in vain, but you can’t really help what your idiot of a heart does to your mind).

Finally, though, he mutters in reply, “Pretty?”

Your hand hesitates in the middle of reaching for another biscuit from the plate sitting next to you. Diluc doesn’t sound offended, but you know better than to assume that he isn’t. You don’t think there’s anything particularly wrong with calling his hair pretty, but maybe it stings his ego as a man or something?

“Uh, yeah…?” You curl your fingers around your warm mug and pull it towards you, staring determinedly down at its contents to disguise your growing nervousness. “I mean, well, it always looks really healthy and soft and glowy and stuff…”

Well, if he wasn’t offended before, he probably is now. You mentally cuff yourself around the head, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t let yourself get loose-lipped just because you’re so relaxed in the homeliness of the tavern. It doesn’t matter how comforting the warmth of the mug in your hands is, nor does it matter how fuzzy just being in Dilic’s presence makes you feel - you need to watch what you say.

But then you see Diluc move out of the corner of your eye, and you look back up to see him standing much closer than he was before, a smile tugging at his lips. You can practically feel your heart screech out of pure surprised joy as he reaches out and gently brushes his knuckles against your cheek.

“Thank you,” He murmurs - do you dare to hope that you hear affection in his voice? - and pulls away as quickly as he’d come close. “I appreciate it.”

You aggressively force your breathing to even out as he moves back to his work, going about his usual duties of making sure all the bottles on display are tightly shut and squeaky clean. Surely the fact that he willingly initiated contact with you - and such intimate-feeling contact at that - must mean something? Diluc has never been the type to be physically affectionate with friends, not like Kaeya, who you’re pretty sure has kissed about half of his entire friendship circle, or Lisa, who has absolutely zero qualms about giving a stranger a bone-crushing hug if they need one. Even if this only means that he considers you a closer friend than the others, though, you can’t help the delighted flutter in the pit of your stomach.

Diluc’s touch has far more power than you’ll ever admit - brief as the contact was, it’s sent such a rush of adrenaline through your entire body that you somehow muster up enough courage to abruptly ask, “Would you mind if I braided it?”

Diluc pauses again. You watch him in anticipation as he slowly turns around to look back at you. “...why would you want to do that?”

“Uh—” You struggle to come up with a decent reason that won’t make you sound like a lovesick fool, and eventually settle on, “I just think it would look nice?”

Diluc stares at you in silence for so long that you begin to think that you’ve lost him completely with your out-of-nowhere request. Then, however, he gives you a curt nod. “Go ahead.”

You barely catch yourself in time to prevent your shock from showing on your face as Diluc moves out from behind the counter and sits down in the seat beside you. “...uh?”

“Go ahead,” He repeats, reaching up and untying his hair from its low ponytail. It tumbles over the back of the chair in messy waves, reflecting the light of the fire so precisely that it almost looks like it’s glowing in the dim lighting of the tavern. “I assume you know how, since you offered.”

It takes you a moment to do something other than stare in pure dumbfounded surprise, but once you snap out of your mini-trance, you nod hurriedly and get to your feet, reaching in your pocket as you do so. You’ve made a habit of carrying around spare hair ties and a foldable wooden comb ever since you and Aether had started working together - his hair comes undone from its plait a lot in battle, and it’s always all matted and tangled in the morning if he lets it down to sleep - which means you won’t have to fumble about for an hour trying to comb’s Diluc’s abundance of hair out with only your fingers.

Diluc is sitting as prim and proper as ever in his chair as you hesitantly move around to stand behind him and - after a long, uncertain pause - begin to brush his hair. His back is ramrod straight, which doesn’t look comfortable at all, but you suppose that whatever works for him is fine.

“That feels nice,” He murmurs quietly as you carefully tease out a knot. Your hands freeze for a moment, then silently continue with their work. “You’re good at this.”

After a pause, you reply, equally quiet, “I get a lot of practice.”

He hums in reply, and the deep rumble of his voice almost seems to fill the room. “...with Aether, I presume.”

You nod, then realise he can’t see you and hurry to give him a verbal answer. “Yeah.”

There’s a long silence between the two of you. You continue to work your way through Diluc’s abundance of hair, painstakingly spending far too long combing out each tangle and kink out of fear that you’ll hurt him if you get too rough.

You don’t know how much time has passed by the time Diluc finally speaks up again. “You spend a lot of time with him.”

It’s a statement, not a question - but you can’t blame him for phrasing him that way. It’s well-known around the city of Mondstadt that you and Aether have been partners-in-crime ever since the two of you had bonded over nearly being stampeded by a swarm of hilichurls and working together to kill them all. It’s odd that he’s bringing it up now, though… you wonder why.

“...well, I do, yes. We are adventuring partners…”

Diluc inhales and lets out a soft sigh. You don’t miss the way that his shoulders tense up slightly. Another long silence passes, and he finally murmurs, “I might be a little jealous.”

You freeze again. Did you hear him right? Did Diluc really just say what you think he just said? He’s… jealous?

You don’t even have time to try to formulate a response before he starts speaking again. “The two of you are always out exploring together. It’s rare that we get to see each like this.”

“...hey, now…” It’s not often that you’re unable to find words - you’ve always had a sharp tongue. Right now, though, it feels like they’ve all dried up in your mouth. “What are you trying to say…?”

Diluc pauses. Then he lets out a soft chuckle - one that has no right to have the effect on you that it does. “...nothing. I just mean that it’s nice to be able to spend time together like this.”

He doesn’t continue, and you take that as a sign that this particular stretch of the conversation is over, and return to carefully separating his hair into segments. Your hands wobble imperceptibly as you do so, but if he notices, he doesn’t say anything about it.

Diluc sighs and lets his shoulders relax as you start pulling the locks of hair over each other into the beginnings of a long braid, carefully tugging it closer to the base of his head so that it looks a little neater. You’re not sure whether you want to go for something similar to Aethar’s plait or something more intricate, but considering the hour, you’d probably be better off keeping it simple. You wonder briefly what colour ribbon would look nice against the deep red of his hair, but quickly shut the idea down - it’s already a wonder that Diluc is letting you do this, and you don’t want to push your luck.

(You don’t know this, but, though his face is calm and composed, Diluc is so hyper aware of his stuttering heartbeat that he’s sure you can hear it. He almost wishes you would use more force with your hands, if only so that he can feel the movement of your fingers more clearly - there’s something therapeutic in the way they weave through his hair. He could almost fall asleep there on the spot, so soothing is your presence and the warmth of the fire, but he wants to talk longer.)

“Hey,” you begin, suddenly feeling that the quietude is more awkward than comfortable. “If you’re ever free, uh… I’m sure Aether wouldn’t mind if you came out on an expedition with us. There are some rumours about an Oceanid popping up in Starfell Lake…”

Diluc makes an indiscernible noise in response to indicate that he’s thinking about your question. You wait with bated breath, only to feel disappointment drop in your chest like a rock when he shakes his head, shifting the incomplete braid in your hands.

A moment later, though, the pressure disappears as he says quietly, “I’d much rather go with you alone.”

“Oh…” You breathe out loud before realising your mistake. You resist the urge to slap your hand to your mouth to shut yourself up, and instead hurry to rectify yourself by continuing, “That sounds good.”

Diluc chuckles again. “You don’t sound particularly enthused by the idea.”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” You shock even yourself with just how indignantly loud your voice gets. You hasten to quiet yourself, continuing much more mutedly, “Um— I mean, I’d love to.”

You can’t see his face, but you can almost hear Diluc’s soft smile in the way he speaks. “Then it’s settled. I’ll take a look at my schedule and let you know when I’m free, alright?”

You can’t help but feel an enormous grin pulling at your own mouth. Well, can anyone really blame you? You’ve just discovered that your unrequited feelings for Diluc might not be as unrequited as you’d initially thought! It’s almost too good to be true - as if you’re dreaming. It’s like the two of you are one of those couples in Venti’s songs, the ones that he likes to play after a good hour of so of drinking, staring meaningfully at you at the end of each… line…

Wait a minute…

A flame-haired noble with a stare as cold as ice, who does his duties by day and hunts evil at night? An adventurer with no roots left at home, who clings to action so as to not feel so alone? The longing stares across a busy room, the late nights thinking of a face so dear, the romance waiting to blossom and bloom, the hopes and wishes that they would stay here?

Son of a hilichurl! That cheeky bard really wrote a song about you and Diluc - and you somehow hadn’t noticed!

“What’s wrong?”

You jolt out of your train of thought as Diluc turns around to look at you. The faint concern on his face is enough to send butterflies spinning through your stomach. Stupid heart. Am I really that weak for this man? “Huh?”

“You haven’t moved in a while,” He says by way of explanation, gesturing to the end of the braid that you’re still holding. “Is there something bothering you?”

You stare at his face - at the deep red of his irises, the flutter of his long lashes, the strands of red hair framing his face, the faint freckles on the slope of his nose. You breathe out a quiet laugh. Perhaps there will never be a time when you can tell him the true extent of how you feel about him, but this will certainly be a start.

“No, nothing at all. So, about tomorrow…?”

[vickyvicarious]

I def agree that Eliot likely ghosted Moreau rather than confronting him or anything, and iirc the implication is that Moreau never sent anyone after him to try and get him back - which in some ways could be worse, leaving Eliot glancing over his shoulder, wondering. and also expressing an awful certainty that Eliot won’t give away his secrets, won’t turn on him, is still *his* in some way that Eliot hates

Eliot successfully leaving is such an interesting detail, because based on their reunion scene I really do get the sense they really never were in any sort of contact since then, hostile or otherwise. In Eliot's POV, ghosting him like that speaks so clearly to fear of what would happen if he ever tried to outright deny/refuse Moreau. But when you look at it from the other side...

Well, I think it's multi-faceted on Moreau's part:

He's not burning bridges. Much like Eliot running off and never mentioning Damien to anyone.* That means Eliot didn't directly link himself with Moreau, sure, but also he never turned against him. Never told his secrets to anyone else or sought out revenge. By not hunting Eliot down, Moreau was making the choice to leave the door open for Eliot to willingly come back some day.

Moreau would know Eliot's skill best at the time. Pretty quickly after Eliot didn't show up, he could probably realize it was an intentional slipping of the leash. And he knew if he sent people after Eliot, especially right away, that a good number of them would die. It would cost a fair amount of money and men to take Eliot down, and given that he ran he probably would not react kindly to goons trying to bring him back by force. But going in person for some emotional manipulation wasn't a good first option either given how dangerous Eliot is; if Moreau misjudged the situation he'd be putting himself in potential danger. Eliot leaving seems to have been a surprise, so Moreau would be recalibrating how much influence he still has over Eliot... Better to let him leave, and if he wants to send hitmen after him later they will have a better chance of being effective when they aren't expected anymore.

Repercussions would be expected. And just like you say, by not actually sending anyone after Eliot, Moreau can play on his fear to punish him via unfulfilled paranoia. He doesn't have to do anything at all, but Eliot is still going to be a nervous wreck.

A lesser mindfuck: does he not care enough to chase me down? Maybe I never mattered to him at all. Not the way he mattered to me. These thoughts wouldn't be the most prominent but they would certainly occur from time to time, diminishing Eliot's importance in his own mind. Especially when they also come with no, he's letting me go precisely because he cares about me. Equally terrifying in a different way, even guilt-inducing though Eliot knows leaving is the morally right choice. But even if he's a bad person, Damien hasn't been bad to Eliot...

And another emotional power play, as you called out. Similar to the first thing on this list (and the 4th) but subtly distinct: Moreau still owns Eliot's silence. By not going after him when Eliot left him in the lurch, he's being gracious. By acting completely unconcerned about Eliot spilling any of his secrets, Moreau is being trusting. He just keeps acting like he has control over the situation (and thus, Eliot) by not showing that it bothers him at all, and Eliot's fear of Moreau is great enough to reinforce that bluff of power. Moreau's inaction demonstrates a kind of complete confidence that is terrifying to be on the other side of. Eliot is still controlled by it years later - too afraid to mention him at all. What this means is that if they ever encounter one another again, Moreau has to let Eliot make the first move. By acting like he wants Eliot back, he'd be admitting to losing him in the first place. This way, it's like he just allowed him a long vacation before welcoming him back home - a complete mindfuck.

*(This also has some really interesting implications for Eliot's position when he worked with Moreau. It seems there was no effort to put him in the spotlight or to emphasize his skills to other people, given that they don't already associate him with Moreau as the guy's "top enforcer" or whatever. (Unless you interpret this line as having an implicit "...even when they asked," but honestly it feels more to me like Eliot is saying he never broached the subject. Like he kept a secret others didn't even know to ask about.) This is further evidence for Moreau deliberately keeping Eliot and his skills all to himself, maybe a hidden ace kind of situation. Certainly implies a dynamic that is focused fairly strongly on only the two of them; one which increases his own influence over Eliot while limiting other meaningful connections.)

.

It all boils down to: Moreau knows he has lost Eliot in the short term. But he has always used Eliot best by invisible/unspoken threats, by acting out care and kindness and even love. Carrot and threat of stick: making Eliot want to obey and fear disobedience all the more for any punishment being unspecified. Reacting harshly would betray all that, in which case he would probably lose Eliot forever (whether to death or simply no longer manipulable). By letting Eliot go, he doesn't have him working for him either... but he also guarantees Eliot will avoid working against him, so it's no loss so much as a lack of gain. Instead of making an attempt that might fail, holding back provides him the illusion of omnipotence and generosity in one. And while it might not be likely, Eliot could still come back someday. And if that ever happened, Moreau's influence over him might even be stronger than before, since he's been both the benevolent god and the bogeyman in the shadows of Eliot's mind all this time.

And honestly? If not for the Leverage crew, this might have worked. Maybe Damien could eventually make the first move, or 'coincidence' could throw them together again, or maybe he'd just keep waiting for Eliot to get desperate enough to approach him first (the option he would obviously prefer). But whether or not he ever hired Eliot again, there is zero chance Eliot would have ever gone against him if not for Leverage.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Dead Or Alive - Harry Styles

a/n: oof okay hello! this is a little different, i guess? but im very excited to share this with you! don’t ask me how i got the idea for this, no clue but it was stuck in my head for days before i finally gave in and started writing it. please share your thoughts and comments on it, i would love to read them!! hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: Wanted!Harry x BountyHunter!Reader

warning: violence, talks of drugs, murder, guns, i really lost track of it lol

word count: 15.2k

masterlist

The man in the handcuffs growls in pain again, but you just yank him forward, not in the mood to deal with a whining girl trapped in a six feet tall disgusting looking, oily-faced bald man in his forties.

“Y/N! What do we got today?” Jeremy greets you at the front desk, thumbs hooked into his belt as he watches you tug the guy into the hall of the station, pushing him down to the nearest seat as you step to Jeremy who is already handing you the paperwork.

“Dennis Delgado. Took me a few days to find him, but he couldn’t hide forever,” you grin proudly as you grab a pen and start filling the papers out.

Jeremy walks over to Dennis who just looks up at the officer in disgust. It’s not enough that he is a child molester disgusting prick, he is racist on top of everything and now Jeremy is enjoying having the higher ground, Dennis trapped in his handcuffs while Jeremy will be the one to get him behind bars for a long time.

“Nice one. We’ll have a lot of fun with this one,” Jeremy chuckles. “Want me to ring up your brother?”

“Is he in? Would love to have a word with him,” you nod smiling. When you’re done with the papers you hand them over to Stella, the receptionist who gets to work with them right away so you can get your money.

“Sure, I’ll get him for you on my way,” Jeremy nods, grabbing Dennis by his arm, pulling him along on his way to the elevators. “Come on you scumbag, you have a cell waiting with your name on it.”

The two of them disappear and you get into a little chit-chat with Stella while she is finishing up the paperwork. Leaning against the counter you look around, officers come and go in the hall, all of them dressed in their uniform and for a moment you picture yourself wearing the same outfit. At one point in your life it seemed to be part of your future, but now it would be the most ridiculous sight. Y/N, the best bounty hunter in the region in a police uniform? That’s not happening.

The elevator dings and your brother, Robert walks out. He on the other hand, made this vision happen. He has been an officer for about ten years now and though at first he was outraged that you chose the not so gracious lifestyle of a bounty hunter, but you soon became his unofficial partner, handing him over a wanted person every few days, making his work easier. Everyone at the station knows that Robert is the one who plays by the rules, doing everything according to the handbook, the perfect officer, always working to keep up the peace in town while you are… Well, you are a rebel. You could never play by the rules, always sneaking ways to do things according to your desires. You never liked if someone wanted to tell you what to do and how to do it, you are not a team player or either one that can easily managed by higher forces. It didn’t take long for you to realize your nature will never let you be an officer so you chose the other path that’s somewhere near joining the police, but still playing by your own rules.

Being a female bounty hunter wasn’t the easiest when you started off at the young age of seventeen. In desperate need of the extra money after the tragic passing of both your parents, the two of you had to get along on Robert’s slim, beginner paycheck. He was only twenty-three, started working at the station just a year prior, you knew you had to help him out. He kept bringing up cases, worked on them through the nights and when he passed you on the couch from exhaustion, you sneaked your way into the dining room and looked for easy targets. Speeding tickets, light drug trafficking, whatever you could deal with as a high schooler.

Robert hated the idea of you dealing with wanted people, you had endless fights about it, but you were too stubborn to stop and besides, you liked the adrenaline rush you got whenever you caught another one and brought them back to the station. Loved the stunned and shocked looks on the older officers when you managed to catch a bigger fish. It took Robert a few years to come to peace with your choice of lifestyle and now he doesn’t even try to talk you down. Instead, he keeps bringing you cases that pay well and he knows you’d like them.

“Who did you catch this time?” he grins at you, walking up to you and he envelopes you in a short hug.

“Just got Dennis Delgado, Jeremy took him.”

“Poor Dennis, he’ll have a rough evening,” Robert chuckles. “Did you get your money?”

“Stella is already working on it,” you nod towards the lady behind you.

“Oh, I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” Stella pushes herself back from her desk and walks over to you with an envelope filled with your reward.

“Amazing, thank you, Stella,” you grin at her happily. Dennis was worth a little more than the usual, you are well covered for the rest of the month thanks to him.

“Do you have something coming next?” Robert asks, hands on his hips as he watches you put the money away into your backpack.

“Not yet. Got something exciting for me?”

“An old friend,” he nods with a small smile. He reaches behind the counter and grabs a flyer, handing it over to you, a familiar face staring back at you from the photo this time.

Harry Styles is a name you’ve heard plenty of times and you know him well by now. You actually went to high school with him, you were just never in the same group. He was labeled as troubled all through his teenage years, his parents were brutally killed when he was just a kid, he was tossed around from one foster family to the other, moving around town every few months. It was no surprised when he got into some darker circles, he almost got kicked out of school right before graduation but somehow managed to stick around to get his diploma at the end.

You have actually handed him in a few times before. Never for anything bigger than drug trafficking or robbing smaller shops downtown, Harry is actually not as bad as people tend to portray him to be, he was just not blessed with the best background as most people. He is a smart guy and would never hurt anyone for real, this is why you are now staring down at his flyer shocked.

He is wanted for the murder of a local man who was found dead a few days ago in his home, Harry’s hair was found near the body with no other evidence.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask Robert with a concerned look. This doesn’t feel right. Not that you know Harry that well, but it’s very unlike him.

“Very much. His hair was the only thing we found near the body of Dave RIchards so evidently, he is our number one suspect.”

“I don’t know, this doesn’t sound right,” you think to yourself, staring down at the mug shot of him that was taken the last time you brought him in for selling weed to underage kids. You remember it exactly, because bringing Harry in is always… fun, if you could say that.

That last time, he was already expecting you, waiting around in his usual motel room that is somewhat considered as his home.

“My Y/N! You arrived earlier than I expected!” he greeted you when you kicked his door in. He was sitting in the middle of the double bed, rolling a joint as always, not a care in the world about your arrival.

“You knew I was coming?” you cocked your head to the side walking in and stopping at the end of the bed, watching him finish the joint and simply light it before taking a big puff.

“Of course. I was informed I’m on your list again, just thought you’d give me a few more hours, but it’s alright.” He waved around carelessly before holding out the joint in your way, offering you to try it.

“No thanks, I don’t trust your sketchy stuff.”

“That hurt!” he gasped dramatically, placing a hand to his tattooed chest that was partially on display since his shirts are never buttoned all the way up.

You brought him in that day, stopping for McDonald’s on your way to the station before handing him over to Robert. He was actually a great guy, nice sense of humor and good looks, you never thought otherwise, he was just moving around in different circles than you so you were left with the few jokes he always cracked when you took him in every few months.

“Well, it’s not your job to question his innocence. Want to take the job or not?” Robert asks you.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll find him,” you nod and fold the flyer, sliding it into your back pocket.

Normally, you take the rest of the day for yourself after turning someone in, but this situation with Harry just bugs you way more than to just go home and pretend like it’s not all you can think about. Harry is not a murderer, he would never randomly kill a man, he is not a psycho, just a guy with a rough background and some poor life decisions.

You know the route to the motel like the back of your hand. Arriving to the dodgy parking lot you park your car in the far end before taking one last look at the flyer. Then you push it into your backpack and get out, heading to Harry’s room with firm steps. You see no lights on, the door is closed and you almost don’t even get closer, thinking he is not here when you see someone move around inside.

You are almost at the door when a hand covers your mouth and an arm wraps around your body, pulling you back forcefully. It takes you a moment to recover from the shock as you are yanked backwards, but as you are being dragged towards the alleyway next to the motel you elbow your attacker in the stomach before kicking them in the knees. The hands fall from around you and turning around you pull out your pocket knife, ready to cut throats right away, but you are shocked to see Harry hunched over, groaning in pain as he holds his arm to his stomach.

“The fuck, Y/N?!” he growls, his chocolate curls falling forward, they’ve definitely gotten longer since the last time you saw him, he could easily put them up into a bun now. “What was that for?” he whispers in disbelief, his green eyes meeting yours in a scowl.

“What the fuck do you mean? You attacked me!”

“I didn’t attack you, I was trying to fucking save you!”

“From what?!”

“From the fucking asshole in my room who is four times bigger than you and would have probably shot you the moment you kicked my door in like you always fucking do!”

It’s just now processing in you that if Harry is here, the person you saw in the room can’t be him and he surely looked bulky. Harry runs his hand through his hair, straightening up from his hunched position before he sighs tiredly. He looks… worn-out, even more than he usually does. The dark circles under his eyes and beat-up knuckles are new, he usually looks fine despite everything that goes on in his life, but this is a version of him you haven’t seen. He has definitely been through some shit lately.

“What are you doin—“

“No time for questions now, we have to get out of here,” he cuts you off, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the alleyway to another parking lot on the other side of the motel. You spot his old jeep right away, but you yank your hand out of his hold, stopping in your tracks.

“Wait, my car is there!”

“We’ll come back for that later, but they can’t find you here with me or they’ll be after you as well,” he explains, grabbing your hand again as he pulls you towards the car and this time you follow him blindly.

You get into his jeep without even questioning it, not even caring that he is a man who is currently wanted for murder. Your instinct is telling you that you’re completely fine with him and you believe it. The two of you head out of town, taking the route to the next town nearby, but he takes a turn to the left, the jeep rolling onto a dirty road leading along fields filled with wildflowers. You have a guess where you’re going, there are some abandoned cabins near the woods that used to function as vacation homes, but they were slowly left to stand empty for eternity when a luxury resort was built on the other side of the woods.

“Care to tell me what the fuck just happened?” you ask him calmly, turning to look at him. He has one hand on the wheel, while his other elbow is resting on the armrest, fingers tapping on his chapped, pink lips.

“I’m in… deep shit, Y/N,” he admits with a sigh, eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

“No shit, you killed someone?”

“I didn’t,” he states, his eyes meeting yours for a moment to emphasize his truth. “It was a fucking set up and now they are after me every way possible.”

“Who is? And what did you do to get into so much trouble?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we arrive, okay?”

You sit in silence for the rest of the ride until you finally arrive to the cabins. You follow Harry inside one of them and it seems like he has set his base up here a few days ago. There’s a double bed with blankets thrown over it and a few mismatched pillows, a sports bag with his clothes and a few grocery bags on the dusty kitchen counter, candles everywhere since there’s probably no power in the cabin. You wonder how long he has been camping out here.

“About a week ago I got a visit from Hugo McKain, you’ve heard about him?” he asks as he grabs a bottled water from one of the grocery bags and fills up two plastic cups, handing you one of them.

“Sure. I’ve heard that… he is a big fish,” you nod.

“Yeah. He wanted me to work for him, but I sincerely rejected the offer, however it didn’t sit well with him. He threatened me that if I’m not selling his stuff, then I won’t sell anyone else’s stuff,” he explains, walking over to the bed and he sits at the edge, staring at the cup in his hands. “He gave me another day to change my mind, but I said that I don’t want to get involved with any of the heavy shit he deals with. I was hoping he would just willing to forget about it, but apparently, he is not the kind to just let shit go,” he chuckles bitterly. “A few days ago he sent two of his men after me, but I was able to run away. I was ready to pack my shit up and just leave the state forever, but then the fucking asshole framed me for the murder of that guy. A friend called me to let me know that I’m the only suspect in the case and that my face has been sent out already everywhere in the state. Hugo made it impossible for me to leave, I would be caught the moment I stop to pump fucking gas in my car,” he growls in annoyance. “So it’s a whole shit show, the police and Hugo are after me and I’m fucking stuck here.”

You stand there at a complete loss of words, because though you have no evidence if he is telling you the truth, you just know he is and the situation is fucking miserable. Harry drinks his water and throws the cup into a plastic bag that serves as a trashcan, his fingers running through his hair nervously.

“Do you know who killed the guy?” you speak up after some silence.

“Yeah, one of his men called Axel, he is a proper idiot, I’m actually surprised he didn’t leave his DNA back, just mine,” Harry scoffs.

“If you know they are after you, what were you doing at the motel?” you ask, leaning against the wall, curiously eyeing him as he glances up at you.

“Knew you’d come after me, didn’t want them to pull you into this mess too.”

Your eyebrows rise at his words. He went back because of you? Harry notices your surprise, a smug smirk tugging on his lips.

“What? Couldn’t let them lay a finger on my Y/N, right?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. He has always been so flirty with you since day one, always trying to pull your leg, chatting your ears off in hopes that he can finally drag you to bed one day. But you never give in, it all stays just some empty flirting and a playful banter.

“So what are you going to do now?” you ask clearing your throat. There’s just always been something in the way he calls you his Y/N that makes you a tad bit nervous.

“That’s an excellent question to which… I have no answer,” he truthfully admits.

“You can’t hide here forever.”

“You tryna’ lure me into going to the station with you?” he asks with a grin. “To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t cuffed me yet. You love that stuff, don’t you?” Harry stands from the bed and strides over to you, the height difference between the two of you forcing you to tilt your head up a little as he smirks down at you, enjoying that he has successfully made you blush. “Question is, have you been the one in the cuffs?”

You part your lips with the intention of answering, but nothing comes out. Harry smirks down at you, so full of himself before stepping away.

“Anyway, I think I’m just gonna lay low here for a while and then hopefully I’ll be able to sneak out of town at one point.”

“You wanna stay here?” you ask looking around. The place is fine for just a few nomad days, but staying here for more seems impossible. There’s no electricity, probably no water, some of the windows are broken in, the temperature must drop drastically in the nights so close to the woods.

“Not that I have any other choices,” he huffs, opening a bag of chips from the groceries.

“Don’t you have any friends who can share their couch with you for a while?”

“You think anyone would want to hide a dude who is wanted for murder and who is also in trouble with Hugo McKain? Baby, even if any of my friends were willing to help, I wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t want to pull them into my shit. Besides, Hugo is probably already keeping tabs of all my friends, he has the connections to know everything about me.”

“And what about me?” you suddenly ask. Harry freezes, eyes flickering at you in confusion.

“What about you?”

“Would he look for you at mine?”

Now it’s his turn to rock a stunned expression, eyebrows shooting up as he stares back at you. He wasn’t expecting it, but truth is neither did you. However it doesn’t take him long to turn it into something entirely sexual.

“You know, if you wanted to see me in your bed, you should have just asked.”

Luckily, you don’t fall under his spell this time. Rolling your eyes you put the cup to the nearest surface and head to the door.

“Alright, changed my mind. Have fun camping out here on your own,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, but he is quick to get between you and the door, stopping you from leaving.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was just not expecting you to make that offer, alright?” You take a step back, folding your arms on your chest. “Were you serious about that?”

“It seemed like an option. I doubt you’d be expected to be at my place.”

“And you’d actually let me stay there?”

“I guess a few days wouldn’t hurt. Until you figure out what to do.”

Harry stares at you in awe, like you just did the best thing ever for him and the thought that he never had anyone to do such favor for him is kind of heartbreaking. He might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but there’s just something in him.

You help him pack his stuff back into the jeep, leaving the weathered cabin empty again before you head back to town. Harry drops you off a few blocks from the motel so you can walk back to your car, you glance at his door just once, it’s still closed but they could easily still be there.

Harry is already at your place when you arrive to your building, waiting around in his jeep, he has put a beanie and sunglasses on, keeping his head low. As he follows you up to your little apartment, you actually realize that Harry is about to move in with you for the upcoming days, he is going to live in your place, you’ll share your home with him. How crazy does that sound?

Unlocking the door you walk into your small apartment. It’s just the perfect size for one person, a decent kitchen with a small dining table, a living room that also functions as your study, your desk filled with folders and flyers from previous works. Then you have a little bedroom and a bathroom opening from the living room. It’s cozy and homey, but definitely not the setting you would have ever imagined Harry in.

“So, the couch is a pull out, I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow, make yourself… home I guess,” you tell him walking into your bedroom to get him everything he needs. However, he is following you into the room, already snooping around in your private little space.

As you grab him a blanket and pillow, you find him inspecting your clutters on top of your dresser, your jewelry, perfumes and makeup stuff is just thrown out there, and he seemingly takes an interest in your rings.

“Never seen you wear any jewelry,” he huffs as you walk up to him.

“Don’t like them on me that much,” you admit. “Here,” you give them the bedding and usher him out of the bedroom before he gets way too adventurous and starts digging into your lingerie drawers.

When the pullout is all set up and Harry has settled in a little, you are faced with the fact once again, that Harry is in your home and about to spend the upcoming days here with you, since he can’t really roam around the streets.

You make sandwiches for the two of you and sit at the small dining table, eating in silence until you speak up.

“I can ask my brother to help find the guy who did it. There has to be a way to get you out of this.”

Harry glances at you, chewing on his food before putting the sandwich down, swallowing the bite.

“Not really if they don’t find evidence.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“We?” he smirks at you playfully, earning a blush from you again. You hate the effect he has on you, he is clearly a good-looking guy, you always thought that, even in high school. Thanks to his troubled name, girls easily fall for his bad guy behavior, they just never really saw that being a so called bad guy wasn’t just about the looks, with a slightly similar background you could imagine how hard it really was for him. Though he never really let it show. He is always this whitty, cocky bastard who is ready to flirt his way into your pants whenever the opportunity is given.

“If you keep up with the teasing you’ll find yourself on the street one morning,” you warn him and he just holds his hands up with a smug grin.

“You are the boss lady here,” she chuckles softly before returning to his sandwich.

For the rest of the evening you bury yourself into some other work stuff, you always have a few smaller gigs going on that are easy money, Harry in the meanwhile makes himself comfortable on the couch, watching your tiny TV in silence, letting you do your thing. It’s nearing midnight when you wrap it up and head to have a quick shower. Standing under the hot water you take a few minutes to collect your thoughts and just simply try to get used to the thought that you are in fact hiding a man who is wanted for murder. It’s going to be some pretty interesting days you have ahead of you, that is for sure.

Putting on your oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts you leave a clean towel on the counter for Harry in case he doesn’t have one before heading out.

“Towel is on the counter. Sorry, I don’t have shower gel for men, but the soap is unscented so feel free to use,” you tell him walking out, only to find him already waiting around the door, leaning against the wall. His eyes fall down the length of your uncovered leg, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“If you’re the kind who sleeps naked, feel free to get rid of the textile.”

“Are you a naked sleeper?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“I can be, if you want me to be,” he grins smugly and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Good night, Harry,” you sigh walking into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you, only allowing yourself to let out a shaky sigh when you are out of his sight. Leaning against the door you hear him shuffling around until the bathroom door closes and the water starts running. You try your best to ignore the thought of Harry currently in your shower naked as you climb to bed and pull the covers over your head. You need the coverage, hopefully it’ll help you with your wandering thoughts.

“Thought you’d deliver Styles by now,” Robert teases you when he meets you at the station the next day. You left Harry at your place, sincerely asking not to trash your home while you’re away and headed to the police station in hopes that your brother might be able to help him out.

“Uh, no. But actually, he is the reason why I’m here,” you tell him with a nervous chuckle.

“What? Did he hurt you or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Can we please talk in your office?” you ask and he nods, leading you up to his office.

Once the two of you are settled and secluded from the rest of the officers, you just decide to start right in the middle and not waste your time beating around the bush.

“Harry didn’t do it. He was framed.”

Robert gives you a surprised look as he leans back in his seat on the other side of his desk. He thinks about your words furrowing his eyebrows before scratching his neck.

“How… do you know that?”

“I just know. He is being framed by Hugo McKain, it was one of his men who killed the guy, not Harry.”

“I have a feeling that your source about this was none other than Harry himself.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does, because of course he would try to defend himself!”

“Harry is not a murderer, Robert,” you snap. “He always owns up to his mistakes and he would never do anything to hurt others. Yes, he is troubled and did a lot of illegal shit in his life, but never anything that could hurt others. He became a target because he didn’t want to join Hugo.”

Robert stares at you for a while, probably trying to figure out whether he should believe you or not. You knew he’d be skeptical, but you can only hope he trusts you enough to help you out in this one case.

“And what do you expect me to do?” he asks after a while.

“He knows the name of the guy. Axel something, can you get someone on his case? Look into the evidence more? Something might come up that could help Harry out of this mess.”

Robert’s jaw clenches as he stares back at you, contemplating his choices but something is telling you he is already in. You won him over.

“I’ll have Jake look into it, I think I know who this Axel guy is.”

“Thank you, Robert!” you cheer in excitement. Jumping from your seat you go around his desk and hug him from behind, kissing his cheek as he tries to escape your embrace. He hates it when you get all affectionate at his work, but you just had to. You head to the door to get out of his hair before he changes his mind, but he stops you before you could leave.

“Y/N, just please be careful with Styles, okay?”

“He is not as bad as people make him sound.”

“I just don’t want him to get you into trouble. There’s only so much I can do to save your ass.” “Don’t worry,” you smile at him softly. “I’ll be alright.”

The rest of the day goes by with catching some stupid guy who was wanted for trying to rob a gas station while drunk, it’s a mystery how he was able to run away, you saw the security footage, the guy was barely standing on his feet, but lucky for you, he is in the exact same state when you surprise him at a bar and bring him in.

It’s past seven when you finally get home. Keying yourself into the apartment you are met with a quite pleasant sight. Harry has pushed the pullout in to make some space in the cramped living room and as you step inside, you are met with the sight of him doing pushups in the middle of the room, no shirt on, just a pair of loose shorts, all his tattoos are on display, a thin layer of sweat covering his body, his curls are held back with a headband. When he hears you arrive, his head shoots up and smirks in your way before doing a few more and then he stops, standing up just as you shut the front door.

“Welcome home, Honey,” he winks in your way and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Turning my living room into your personal gym, huh?”

“I can’t just sit around all day, waiting for you to get home, can I?”

“You can always just fix up my apartment while I’m gone,” you joke chuckling. Setting your bag down on your bed you join him in the kitchen where he is sipping on some water. “Anyway, I have good news for you. My brother said he’ll have one of his guys look into the case. I’m sure he’ll check after this Axel dude you mentioned.”

“That’s great! I’ve also been asking around today, some of my friends said they will try to dig up some dirt that might help me out, but I don’t want any of them to get too deep and then have Hugo go after them too.”

“It’ll be fine,” you nod, convinced that things will turn out well. “Alright, I’ll throw something together for dinner, what—“

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I already ordered, should be here soon.”

“You ordered food?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course. I won’t just eat your fridge out, dinners are on me while I’m here,” he smiles genuinely and you’re stunned by the gesture.

Half an hour later the two of you are sitting on the living room floor, Chinese takeout boxes littering the place around you, having a full on feast because Harry didn’t go light on the order.

“So, tell me, what have you been doing since high school?” he prompts the question. “I feel like I know you but I also don’t. Don’t get me wrong, being handcuffed by you every other month is fucking hot, but I don’t know much about you.”

“There’s not much to know,” you shrug. “I’ve been doing this since I was seventeen, no grandiose career.”

“But did you have any other plans before?”

“Thought about joining the police, but I was never tame enough to follow their rules.”

“Ooh, a little rebel?” he teases you and you throw a handful of napkins in his way, making him laugh.

“You can joke about it, but I’ve had my fair share of trouble as well, you are not the only one who’s been through some rough years.”

“I know that,” he nods, eyes getting serious for a moment. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“You know about them?” you ask in surprise. You didn’t really share it with anyone, talking about the loss of them just made it harder to deal with it and you also didn’t want everyone’s petty.

“You just know about this kind of stuff when you grow up in foster care. Though you were lucky your brother was already of age.”

“I know. I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here if I had to go into foster care.” Putting down the box from your hands you look at Harry. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”

“Not that it was any of your fault,” he smiles softly, but you can see the pain in his green eyes. Despite not knowing him well growing up, you always felt this weird urge to tell him how sorry you were for everything he had to deal with. He deserved a better childhood and teenage years and most importantly, respect from people. Everyone just labeled him as a lost case because of his background, but no one really tried to help him. Part of you feels guilty, because you could have helped through those years, but you were a little frightened from him as well, believing the rumors and talks about him, though now you know they were probably just stupid gossips.

Harry reaches into your box, stealing a dumpling and you snap on his hand, but he just pops it into his mouth grinning slyly.

“Hey! You have your own!” you tell him off.

“I know, but yours just tastes better.”

“You are such a pest,” you roll your eyes at him as you grab your box and start eating again.

“So, what does your boyfriend think about me being here?” he asks out of nowhere, but you see through his act. It’s his sneaky way of trying to get you to say if you’re single or not, probably already knowing the answer to that, but you choose to pull his leg a little.

“He is fine. Though you might have to plug your ears in a little when he comes over,” you tell him with a straight face and see his fall, a stunned expression on his handsome face.

“Wait, really? You have a boyfriend and told him about me being here?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

It’s hard not to start laughing, especially when the words process and he realizes that you are in fact taken. The flirty, teasing act is long gone, he presses his lips together nodding to himself as he continues to eat in silence.

“I’m just fucking with you, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you tell him at last, finally letting out a laugh. His eyes snap up at you and a smirk slowly tugs at his lips as he points a finger at you.

“You had me for a hot minute. Nice one.”

“Why were you so surprised when I said I have a boyfriend?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“Guess the thought was just a little weird, I’ve never seen you with a guy before.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve never been with any,” you point out, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Oh, I know. I never thought you are pretending to be a nun,” he snorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasp, feeling like it was a subtle way to call you some sort of slut. Harry looks up at your upset expression and he immediately knows how his words were taken.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he defends himself.

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I meant that I always thought a girl as pretty as you must have plenty of guys after her.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at how bluntly he just called you pretty. It had a refreshing sound after all the shameless flirting he has been doing when it came to you, and your poor little heart immediately skipped a beat upon hearing his words.

“Well, I didn’t have,” you admit with a sad smile. You briefly dated a guy from another school in tenth grade, but after that, your life was just way too complicated to get involved in a relationship and you haven’t really been able to change that even years later. When you’re very keen on some intimacy you go to a nearby bar and just let whatever man to pick you up and have for the night, but that doesn’t happen too often either, because it seems useless most of the time, you can do the job yourself just fine too, you don’t need some random man to call you his babygirl when he doesn’t even know your name. Some never even bother to finish you, they pass out once they got what they wanted so you prefer being on your own.

“Fucking losers!” Harry huffs dramatically. “They have no idea what’s good.”

“You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better,” you roll your eyes at him, but you can feel yourself blushing.

“I’m not, I was always crushing on you a little in high school, if I’m being honest,” he admits truthfully, managing to surprise you once again.

“For real?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning his focus back to his food as he continues to talk. “Even thought about asking you out to prom one time. But I figured you might not even know who I am.”

“Come on, everyone knew who you were!”

“Are you telling me off for being humble?” he asks grinning. “Okay, let me rephrase it. I didn’t know if you wanted anything to do with me after hearing stuff about me, so I just dodged the idea.”

You chew on his words a little before looking up at him, eyes meeting his green irises, though you are usually not one to get in on the flirting, now you just feel like being a little blunt.

“Well, I always thought you were good-looking.”

“Were? Am I not good-looking anymore?” he teases with a dramatic gasp that makes you roll your eyes.

“Well, the smugness takes a bit away from it, if I’m being honest,” you tell him off making him laugh.

Once you both are well fed you clean the boxes up together, you wash the few extra plates you used while Harry dries them off and puts them away. Opening one of the cabinets he moves the door a bit, examining how it hangs a little low.

“I always forget to fix it up,” you sigh. There’s quite a few things that could use some work, but you just never get to start on them so they are always put aside.

You take your turns in the bathroom as usual and you sit at your desk a little, working on a few stuff before calling it a night. Harry is already lying in his temporary bed on the pullout, scrolling through his phone. The covers hide only half of his body, his naked, tattooed chest is on display, one of his arms is tucked under his head, the muscles on his arm flexing just right. He surely is a sight, you can’t deny that.

“Seeing something you like?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been caught staring. Clearing your throat you stack up the papers on your desk and head into your bedroom.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he calls after you before you click the door closed.

The next day you go with your usual routine, Robert checks in with you letting you know he already has someone on Harry’s case, so there’s not much you can do for now, only hope that something will surface that can help him out of this mess. Throughout the day you often catch yourself thinking about what Harry could be doing at home all day and you pray to all higher powers he is not currently snooping through your lingerie.

It’s a frustrating day, you couldn’t find the guy you’ve been after but you were really hoping to finally get the money for him. He is big money, but he makes you work for it certainly. When you arrive home Harry is nowhere to be seen, but then you hear the shower running so you figure he must have just been working out and is now taking a shower. Two pizza boxes are set on the dining table and you sigh in relief that you don’t have to think about cooking with him around. Going to the kitchen you are about to grab two plates when you notice that the cupboard door that’s been hanging low a little is now fixed. It’s as new as it never was since you’ve been living here and it gets you wondering if anything else has been taken care of. Going through the kitchen you start to realize that all the little things that’s been waiting to be fixed are now working perfectly: the handle on one of the drawers, the loose tap, the shelf that’s been crooked for a while, it’s all perfect now.

The bathroom door opens and Harry walks out wearing a pair of black sweatpants, his hair is wet and he has a towel hanging from around his neck.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you arrive,” he breathes out throwing the towel to the back of one of the chairs around the dining table.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago. Hey, did you fix my kitchen?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Uh, yeah. Took a look at the stuff that seemed off. Also fixed the shoe rack near the door and the hangers in the bathroom.”

“Oh wow. You really shouldn’t have.”

“Didn’t you tell me to fix the place up while being here?” he teases you with a smirk as he leans against the table.

“That was just a joke.”

“I know,” he chuckles softly. “But I really didn’t have much to do today so I thought I might make myself useful.”

“That’s… actually very nice of you. Thank you.”

“No worries.”

“So how was your day?” Harry asks as the two of you are chewing on the pizza, sitting at the dining table.

“Why are you making small talk like we’re a married couple?” you scrunch your nose, taking another bite from your slice.

“What, I can’t be nice?”

“You can, it’s just you are usually not,” you point out.

“Or you are just never around when I decide to be nice,” he grins. “You usually just burst into my place, handcuff me and then bring me in. That doesn’t give much time to be nice.”

“I wouldn’t cuff you if you didn’t try to run away the first time I wanted to bring you in,” you retort shrugging.

“Okay, first of all, I was not expecting you to just kick my door in and have a fucking knife pointed at my throat, of course I tried to escape! And second, I quite enjoy being handcuffed by you, so I guess it’s not that bad.”

That smug smirk is back on his lips again and you wish you could just wipe it off sometimes. He is so full of himself!

“You are always coming with this cuffing thing. Get a hold of your kinks, Styles.”

“You can’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on. I bet you’d like that, if you haven’t already been cuffed in the bedroom,” he snorts, taking a big bite, the sauce dripping a bit from the corner of his mouth that he wipes with the back of his hand.

“My kinks are none of your concerns,” you sternly reply, but it just makes his grin wider.

“Oh, so you do have kinks! Tell me more about them!”

“Well what are yours?” you retort, hoping it would shut him up, but it has the opposite effect on him. Leaning back he swallows the food in his mouth before starting the list.

“Well I do love getting handcuffed, I’m into spanking, both ways. I have a weird thing for—“

“Alright! I’ve heard enough!” you cut him off. “Stop, just… stop,” you breathe out.

“What?” Harry chuckles, clearly enjoying the situation more than you’d want him to. “Don’t tell me you’re too prude to talk about sex.”

“I’m not,” you answer right away.

“Okay, then tell me about your kinks!” he teases you some more. Snapping your eyes at him you can tell how much he is enjoying making you so uncomfortable, but you also know that he thinks he’ll just make you blush and you won’t tell him a thing. So you decide to give him his own medicine.

“I do in fact like to be handcuffed, I love a good spanking, when my ass cheeks turn red from the slaps, that makes me cum very hard. I love a good old choking and I particularly enjoy giving blowjobs because I don’t have a gagging reflex, makes men go fucking nuts when I have them down my throat to the last inch, I get off their reaction easily.”

Harry’s lips part as he stares at you with a stunned expression, he definitely did not expect that answer, or any answer at all. That face alone makes up for the slight anxiety that took over you talking about what you really enjoy in the bedroom. Your eyes wander down and a triumphant smirk tugs on your lips.

“Don’t be such a horny teenager, I can see your dick getting hard,” you tell him before flipping the pizza box closed and walking into the kitchen you put the remaining of it into the fridge.

“You are such a tease, Y/N,” he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “But it might backfire, because now I’m gonna get off thinking about spanking you,” he grins at you, but you just shrug, heading to the bathroom.

“Do whatever you want, fantasizing is free,” you tell him before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You’d be lying if you said you don’t think about him in the shower. As your hands move down your body, your fingers wander between your legs, gently playing with your clit while thinking about Harry spanking you. Knowing that he is kind of into the same things as you makes your fantasies even more vivid, but you don’t let yourself get off. You wouldn’t want him to hear you moan under the shower, he would tease you about it forever.

When you’re all done you step out of the bathroom only to get startled by Harry who is standing right at the door, wearing only his boxer briefs.

“Shit!” you gasp, snapping your hand to your chest.

“You took awfully long in there, Y/N,” he smirks at you, but you just roll your eyes at him. “If you ever need help washing you back, don’t be shy to ask me to join.”

“Keep dreaming,” you mumble under your breath as you walk past him and make your way into your bedroom.

“I already do that!” he calls after you before you shut the door closed.

Throwing yourself to your bed you take a deep breath closing your eyes. If he keeps up this act, you have no idea how you’re gonna survive having him around any longer.

Two days go by in the same manner. You spend most of the day out doing your usual stuff, you actually manage to catch another guy who was a small reward, but it’s more than nothing. Harry usually has dinner ready and waiting for you by the time you get back home. During these two days he has fixed up basically everything that wasn’t working in your apartment, freeing you from doing it yourself for probably twice as long as he did.

You sit and eat together, Harry usually tries to get under your skin with some more flirting that you return with a cold shoulder, but then, when you’re lying in the comfort of your bed or standing under the hot water in the shower, you always find your thoughts wandering off to the man on the other side of the door.

Ashamed to admit, but you’ve gotten yourself off once thinking about him. You woke up in the middle of the night from a quite hot dream that, of course, featured a shirtless Harry and you just couldn’t stop yourself from bringing you some relief. For a little while your hands weren’t yours, you imagined that Harry’s big, calloused and ring clad fingers were moving against your body and you needed every drop of self-control not to moan his name out as you came. You blame it on him being so comfortable shirtless around your place, he has been really making himself feel home. Not that you’re complaining, he is a sight for the eyes certainly, but it’s also giving you a hard time.

Robert soon asks you to swing by the station to discuss some details about Harry’s case. You can tell he couldn’t dig up anything helpful, he would have already mentioned it through the phone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anything that can be useful in further investigation.

“So, I’ve caught wind of Axel Morris being involved in the death of the victim, but we haven’t been able to recover any evidence that would point towards him, unfortunately,” Robert explains as the two of you sit in his office. “Didn’t want to bring him in for questioning either because then Hugo would find out we are after him.”

“So what can be done now?”

“I’m… really not sure, Y/N. If Axel doesn’t magically confesses the murder on tape, I’m not sure I can do anything to help Styles.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you’re trying hard to think of what to do. This can’t end like this, there has to be a way out for Harry…

“Look. I know you’re trying to cook up something to help Styles, but I’m not sure I can give you much time.”

“What do you mean?” you ask with a puzzled look.

“I mean that…” He glances at the door and then leans closer, speaking more quietly. “If I had a guess where he could be found, I would say he is at your place as we are speaking. I can’t let a guy walk free who is wanted for murder, Y/N. I eventually have to bring him back.”

“Alright, alright. Just give me a few more days. I’ll figure it out,” you plead, running your hand through your hair. Robert sighs, shaking his head.

“You have three days. That marks ten days since the warrant has been out. If you don’t bring me evidence by then, I’m sending the guys to your place to get him.”

“Three days, alright. I’ll… figure it out. Thanks, Robert,” you nod, leaving his office in a rush.

You have three days to find evidence against Axel and free Harry, but how do you even start? You’re good at what you do, but this is kind of out of your field and you’re not sure you can deal with it.

Walking around town you try to come up with an idea, but end up doing what you always do when you’re stuck on a case. Thanks to your work you’ve built up quite a web of connections, you always know someone who knows someone who is exactly the person you need. So sitting at a diner, munching on a late lunch you start calling your connections to see if you can dig up anything that could help.

A few hours later the situation becomes brighter and you finally have a somewhat useful plan so you head home to let Harry in on what you’ve come up with.

He is seemingly surprised when you arrive home earlier than the usual, he is sitting at the dining table, a bowl of instant noodles in front of him as he is watching some video on his phone. Like usually, he is only wearing a pair of sweatpants, his tattooed abdomen on full display.

“Oh, hi! Something happened?” he asks, concern showing in his eyes as he watches you kick your shoes off and storm into your bedroom, going straight to your wardrobe to dig up one particular outfit. “Y/N?” you hear him call out for you, his voice coming from your door.

“Yes! I knew I still had it!” you cheer in triumph as you hold up the latex set that clearly leaves very little to the imagination. When Harry sees it, his eyes go wide and his imagination probably gets wild for a moment, because he clears his throat as he looks at you puzzled.

“What do you need that for?”

“It’s part of my plan that will get us evidence against Axel Morris.”

“I’m not really following, so please elaborate?”

“I talked to Robert, he said we need to get him to confess. Now, I made a few phone calls and found out that our friend, Axel is a regular at this strip club called Siren. I’ll pretend to be a dancer and wrap him around my fingers and get him to confess while recording. You said it yourself, he is a real dumbass, I’m sure I can make it work.”

Harry stares at you frozen for a long moment before he lets out a heartfelt chuckle and now you’re the one confused about what’s really going on.

“S’cute you think I’m letting you close to that man. Funny, that was a good joke. Alright, what do you want for dinner?” he asks, walking back to the dinner table, but you chase after him.

“It’s not a joke, Harry. Pretty much our only chance to get you out of this mess!”

“You are not going anywhere near that guy and that’s not up for debate.”

“Not that you can tell me what to do!” you scoff at him.

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shakes his head sitting back to the table, stirring his pasta around with the spoon.

“I certainly know, and this is pretty much your only chance to save your ass, Harry.”

“Not if it means you go near Axel, nah,” he shakes his head calmly, as if it wasn’t even an argument and he had the right to grant you permission.

“Well, I’m doing it and you can’t do anything about that. I’m going in tomorrow. I know one of the dancers, she is helping me set it all up,” you shrug, your attitude meeting his careless one, but he doesn’t like your answer, not even a bit.

“Y/N, you are not going there!” he snaps, standing up, the chair falling back from the sudden movement. “That psycho killed a man or did you forget about that?!”

“Okay, so what’s your plan to save your ass? Because there’s literally no other choice,” you retort giving him a frown as you march back to your room and Harry follows you.

“But it won’t be you dressing up as a stripper, seducing a fucking murderer to get him to confess!”

“So then what is it going to be?!” you snap at him facing him again. “Because Robert gave me three days to sort things out before he comes here and takes you in himself!”

“Then I’ll go to jail! No big deal!” he throws his hands into the air like it was just a minor inconvenience and not a case of murder that could put him behind bars forever.

“Are you fucking insane?” you laugh in disbelief. “You’re willing to lose the rest of your life for what? Nothing at all?!”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. You are not getting yourself into this mess and it’s not up for debate.”

“You hold no control over me, Harry!” you scream at him at this point, fed up with his bullshit.

You find yourself pinned against the wall in a blink of the eye, Harry is pressed up against you, hands grabbing onto your forearms as he keeps you in place firmly, one of his thighs coming between your legs as his face is dangerously close to yours now. He knocks the air out of you for a moment and you stare back at him with parted lips for just a split second before your instincts kick in.

You easily knee him in the crotch, giving you just enough opportunity to grab one of his wrists and twist it behind his back, forcing him to get on the ground, growling in pain.

“Fuck! Y/N!” he groans, snapping his other hand against the hardwood floor. You give him another squeeze as a warning before letting him go and he falls to the ground for a moment before he pushes himself up to sit on his heels.

“You still think I can’t protect myself against a man?” you sneer at him walking over to the bed to grab the outfit that was tossed to the side in the hustle.

“Shit, I think you broke my dick!” he breathes out hunching over and you just smile to yourself as you hand the outfit up to the side of your wardrobe.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, you’re fine.”

“Don’t think so, might need a get-well kiss on it though,” he smirks through his painful expression and you roll your eyes at him. How is he still at it when you just kneeled him in his crotch? “Okay, your message came through very clear though, but I’m still not a fan of your plan,” he sighs finally standing up from the floor.

“It’s gonna be easy, I’ll get him a little drunk, offer him a private dance, make a move and get him to talk. If he really is that dumb like you said, I can easily get him to open up, just gotta make sure he is focusing on something else,” you explain gesturing towards the outfit on the hanger.

“You can’t wear that, Y/N.”

“This is what strippers wear, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“My problem is that it’s like… nonexistent. There’s no textile at all!” he rages, still eyeing the red latex set.

“Are you… jealous?” you ask, starting to get a feel of what’s really going on. Harry’s head snaps in your way and the look in his eyes answers your question even when he tries to hide his real reasons.

“Jealous of you becoming a stripper? I bet I can make more than you if I became one,” he scoffs smugly.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking jealous!” you laugh, enjoying this one in a million moment. “What’s next, you have feelings for me? Are you gonna confess your undying love?” you tease him.

“Okay, you had your laughs, that was enough. Excuse me if I’m looking out for you and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“Don’t get all smitten with me now. I’ve been doing just fine without you so far.”

“Yeah, how many people did you bring in for murder?” Harry questions and that leaves you without an answer. Not that you don’t know it, but because the number is exactly zero. You’ve been doing your job for quite a while and there’s been all kind of cases under your hands, but not murders. Though you are completely capable of defending yourself, you’re not sure you want to deal with monsters who took a human’s life. The only reason you took Harry’s case was because you had an inkling feeling from the very start that he did not do it.

“Just as I thought,” Harry scoffs. “Listen, if you really want to do this then I’m going with you. No way I’m gonna just sit around here and wait to see if you make it back home.”

“How do you plan on leaving the house? Someone might recognize you and then it’s game over.”

“I’ll just… disguise myself,” he shrugs. “Can’t be that hard.”

You never thought the day would come when you see Harry Styles wearing a fake mustache and a ridiculous wig, secured with a beanie to his head. The moment the two of you finish his disguise, you can’t hold your laughter back. He looks so damn ridiculous, you can barely breathe through your laughter as he checks himself out in the mirror.

“I look like a fucking pedophile,” he shakes his head chuckling as he pushes some fake hair out of his forehead. “Where the fuck did you find this wig?” he snaps at you in disbelief.

“Does it matter? You look so fucking bad!” you laugh hysterically and Harry just stands there, waiting for you to finally stop, but it seems like he is not bothered by your reaction. He probably finds it equally funny too.

It’s currently seven pm, you have to head to Siren soon to start your fake shift as a stripper and you haven’t been able to talk Harry down from following you, so there you are, getting ready to fool everyone around you. Harry with his awful disguise and you with your stripper outfit.

When you finally catch your breath you leave Harry in the living room to get ready as well. Following a heavy makeup with dark, smokey eyes, you also put on a wig, a short, red bob that’s part of the outfit. Then you squeeze yourself into the latex, the tiny top barely covering you, the skirt is not even a skirt, rather than just a belt. As an extra to the fit, you’ve put on a red corset, though it’s more so you can hide the voice recorder since the original outfit doesn’t give too many places to do that. You pair it all with fishnet tights and a pair of black, thigh-high boots. As you check yourself out in the mirror you don’t even recognize yourself. Y/N is officially gone, the girl in the boots is… Crystabel.

Opening the door you step out of your bedroom, Harry is standing in the middle of the living room, busy with his phone so at first he doesn’t even see you walk out.

“Ready to leave?” he asks, eyes still on the screen of his phone.

“I… guess?” you breathe out, feeling extremely self-conscious in this revealing set.

When Harry finally looks up his mouth drops open. He is not even trying to hide his hunger as his eyes rake down the length of your body. He takes his time to take in every inch of your exposed skin before his gaze settles on your eyes behind your long fake lashes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out and it gives you quite the confidence boost.

“You like it?” you ask, striking a pose as you push your hips to the side and place your hands on your waist.

“I-I’m… I’m fucking speechless,” he chuckles as you walk closer and grabbing the strings of his hoodie, you tug on the playfully while he is still shamelessly checking you out. “I don’t know how I could live this long without seeing you like this.”

“You are such a flirt,” you roll your eyes, but just as you are about to step away from him he grabs you by your waist and pulls you against him firmly. Your hands move to his broad shoulders right away, trying to keep your balance in his hold.

“I might be a flirt, but you are the hottest woman I’ve seen and I admit I will be fucking jealous of every man that’s gonna lay their eyes on you tonight.” His voice is low, full of lust and if it wasn’t for his funny disguise, you would have melted right into his arms in a heartbeat.

“I can’t take you seriously with this mustache on,” you chuckle softly, running your fingers over the fake facial hair, the pad of your fingers slightly touching his soft lips underneath.

“Just wait until we get back home and I get rid of it,” he smirks and winks at you, making you chuckle, but you can also feel yourself blushing at his words.

You put on a trench coat to cover the racy outfit as the two of you make your way to the club. Harry is driving, but you took your car in case someone might recognize him near the club. Arriving Harry parks at a darker corner in the parking lot and he pulls out a little box from his backpack.

“Alright, let’s wire you up, Love,” he smirks as you undo the coat and let him help you get the devices situated on you.

The voice recorder gets pushed into your stomach, hiding behind your corset. It’s thick enough that it doesn’t give away that anything is hidden under it, it’s just a little uncomfortable for you, but you are sucking it up.

“Here, put this into your ears,” Harry hands you an earpiece that you place into your right ear, hiding it with your wig. “It’s not the best quality, but you’ll be able to hear me and I’ll hear everything around you. We need a safe word if anything happens so I know I have to go inside.”

“This is starting to look like a spy movie or something,” you mumble under your breath as you start buttoning your coat again.

“Don’t turn it into a joke, Y/N. Axel might be a stupid jerk, but don’t forget he killed that man. He doesn’t care if you’re a woman or not, or if you’re a real stripper or not.”

“Alright, alright,” you sigh nodding. “How about… cherry?”

“Okay. Use it if you are in trouble or someone is hurting you or anything.” You nod, fidgeting with the end of the coat, but Harry grabs your hand and makes you look at him. “I mean it, Y/N. I don’t want you to play the hero.”

“I won’t, calm down. I gotta go now. I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before getting out of the car and heading to the backdoor. Glancing back one last time you see Harry standing at the hood of the car, watching you intently as you disappear from his sight.

Sienna, who is helping you tonight is already waiting for you at the backdoor. You met her a few years ago when you caught her abusive ex and took him in. She said she owed you one for freeing her from that asshole and now you are finally here to collect that favor.

“Damn, you look good!” she grins, pulling you into a short hug.

“You think it’s gonna be alright?” you ask, pulling the coat open to show her the whole outfit.

“Fucking fantastic. No men will be able to focus on anything than your boobs,” she snorts, pulling you inside.

The plan is easy. You won’t be out all night, Sienna will be your eyes and when she spots Axel arrive, that’s when you come into the picture. Sienna will escort him to a secluded area and tell him he has a free lap dance which will be, of course, performed by you. Some flirting, some seducing and hopefully Axel will be dumb enough to let a some sort of confession slip.

Sienna takes you to the changing room and you stay in the corner, trying not to be in the way as you watch the girls get ready. There are ten girls in total, five of them are dancing tonight, the other five are servers, but they still dress like dancers. They all wear equally revealing outfits, just like you and as you watch them move around so confidently, you start to get more and more nervous. What if Axel figures out you’re not a real dancer right away? Or if he notices the recorder pushed into your stomach? This plan is definitely not the safest you’ve ever come up with, and you are starting to doubt yourself now that you are so deep in it.

“Y/N?” you hear Harry’s faint voice in your ear. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out and hearing his voice calms your nerves a little.

“Everything alright?” First you nod, but then you realize he can’t see you.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you nervous?”

“Very,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. Luckily, Harry doesn’t bring his usual cockiness out, feeling how serious the situation is.

“You can still come out and we can just go home. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to do this,” you firmly answer. “Just… talk to me a little. Please.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you about when I wanted to ask you out to prom,” you hear him start and you can’t push a smile down as you sit and wait, listening to his soothing voice. “You were wearing this pretty white sweater that day and tight jeans, you looked so fucking good, Y/N. I saw you walking to your locker and you smiled at some random guy and I was instantly jealous.”

“Really?” you ask quietly.

“O, yeah,” he chuckles. “I told you, I had a crush on you. So I thought about asking you out, wanted to just walk up to you and casually ask if you wanted to go with me. But then I just watched you and realized that you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so I just watched you get your books out of your locker and then you walked right past me, looked me in the eyes and I straight up felt my knees turn into jelly. Good thing I was leaning against the wall. You walked away and I never asked you out. Still regret that,” he admits and your heart flutters at his words.

As weird as it sounds, you remember that day. Especially because when your eyes met Harry’s you felt kind of the same. You felt intimidated and wondered why he was watching you so intently, but you would have never guessed he wanted to ask you out.

You see Sienna walking in, her eyes find you and you immediately know it’s show time.

“Harry?” you breathe out at last.

“Yeah?”

“I would have said yes,” you tell him before you follow Sienna out and the blasting music pushes down Harry’s voice in your earpiece.

The bright lights of the back are switched to the dim, red lighting in the main bar area, a dancer is already on the stage and the place seems packed for the night as all men are hungrily watching the girl on the stage, throwing dollar bills at her shamelessly.

Sienna pulls you to the bar and leans closer to your ear so you can hear what she is saying.

“He is in one of the private rooms, told him the dance is on the house to thank him for being a regular. I asked one of the guards to stand nearby.”

“Thank you, S,” you nod at her as she squeezes your hands.

“Good luck, girl,” she smiles a little bitterly before she shows you the way to the room where Axel is currently waiting for his private dance.

As you stop at the door you take a deep breath, staring at the doorknob for a moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever is about to happen in there.

“I’m going in,” you say, partially to yourself, but mostly to Harry so he knows what’s happening though you don’t hear an answer before you open the door and step inside.

The room is mostly what you were expecting, a small stage with a rod in the middle, across that a long, plush, deep burgundy couch. The walls are black, just the red led lights illuminating the place.

And there he is. Axel Morris is sitting in the middle of the couch, manspreading so widely like the asshole that he is, arms leisurely draped across the back of the couch as his hungry eyes immediately snap to your body.

Axel is big. He is a large man and you realize that the moment you see him. Though he is sitting you can easily tell that he’s tall and he is definitely bulky. Could end you in a blink of an eye and knowing that he is capable of murder is just an eerie thought that doesn’t leave you alone. But you suck it up and get into character, only thinking about one thing: help Harry out of this mess.

Music with low bass starts playing through the speakers as you make your way over to Axel who grins at you disgustingly, making it hard for you to keep the façade.

“Hey big boy, heard you’ve earned a dance for yourself,” you coo at him stopping at the edge of the stage as you keep eye-contact with him. You lean against the edge and spread your legs just enough to tease his imagination about what’s about to come.

“Hell yes, I did! Hope you’re a good dancer, babygirl. Haven’t seen you around here.”

“I’m new. But I’m really good, that’s why they sent me,” you smirk at him sweetly as you walk closer until you’re standing in front of him. He reaches out and grabbing your hips he pulls you to straddle his lap and it catches you by surprise but you don’t fall out of character.

“Then show me what you can do. What’s your name?” He licks his lips as you start moving, doing your best from movies you’ve seen with strippers in them.

“Crystabel, but you can call me yours,” you hum, grinding and bouncing yourself, completely unleashing your inner hoe. “Tell me, big boy. Are you as dangerous as you seem?”

“Oh baby, you have no idea,” he grins proudly.

“Really?” you coo, pushing yourself up against him. His dirty hands find your ass and you want to push them away so badly, but you let him have his way with you for the sake of the plan. “What’s the worst you’ve done?”

“Why does a pretty girl like you want to know about that, huh?” he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you with suspicion so you know you have to be careful.

“Because I have a thing for those stuff. I love pain and blood, it gets me off always,” you smirk at him teasingly, grinding yourself against him to divert his attention a little from the words spoken.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yeah, I love that kind of stuff,” you moan, running your hands down your chest, his eyes hungrily following your every move and you know he is zoned out. It’s going perfectly.

“Well, I’m the perfect man for you then, babygirl. I’ve done all the things you can imagine.”

“Really? You are turning me on, big boy,” you murmur lowly, turning around for a bit so he can get a good glimpse of your backside as well. “Have you… taken anyone’s life before?” you bluntly ask, hoping you aren’t moving too fast and he won’t snap at you.

“Not sure I should be talking about that with you, pretty girl,” he smirks smugly. You turn back to face him, pushing your crotch against him as you try not to gag feeling his erection under you.

“I’m good with secrets, Honey. My lips are sealed,” you grin at him, stroking his oily face and try your best not to wipe your fingers into the cushion of the couch. Axel smirks at you, clearly enjoying the show you are putting on, his fingers are digging into your thighs as his eyes are practically glued to your chest.

“I’m a killer, babygirl.”

“Yeah?” you gasp, faking your excitement. “What did you do, big boy? Tell me, make me wet,” you purr biting into your bottom lip, pushing your chest out some more to distract him from his consciousness that might keep him from answering.

“Killed a guy recently,” he smugly admits and your adrenaline is high in the sky. You are so close to what you need!

“Oh my, sounds like a dirty job.”

“It was.”

“Saw it on the news a guy got killed not long ago, did you do that?” you smirk at him, his hand slapping your ass and you fight yourself not to punch him in the face.

“That Richards guy? Yeah,” he nods and you almost start screaming in your triumph. This dumbass really did just confess to you, because you had your ass and tits out for him!

“Cool. What’s your name, big guy? Wanna know who I’ll think of when I touch myself later,” you pant into his ear, you need him to say his name otherwise the confession might go to shit.

“I’m Axel, babygirl,” he grins, leaning dangerously close to you, he clearly wants to push his tongue down your throat but you push yourself away and up from his lap.

“Our time is up, big boy. See you later!” you sing and walk out of the room while he is still kind of zoned out.

The moment you are out, you start running. You can’t have him realize what just happened and stop you. Pushing your way back to the dressing room you grab all your stuff and spring out of the building. Harry is standing at the entrance, his ridiculous disguise is gone as he spots you with wide eyes. He probably heard everything and wanted to be there for you when you get out and as soon as you reach him he grabs your hand and the two of you run to the car. Right when you get into the car, you spot Axel running out from the front entrance and he definitely realized what just happened.

“Hey! Get back here you slut!” he shouts as Harry starts the car and you melt into the seat, scared of what’s about to happen because you see Axel reach to his back and the next thing you know is that he has a gun in his hand.

“Harry! Go!” you scream when you see him aim at the car and right at that moment, the wheels screech as Harry pushes the gas pedal to the fullest and the car yanks forward.

Your heart drops to the floor when a bullet shoots into the side of the car as Axel tries to stop the two of you. Harry takes a sharp turn and leaves the car park with full speed. You see Axel from the mirror, he is raging and keeps shooting after you, but he has no aim or whatsoever. You reach the end of the street and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“Oh shit, fuck,” you mumble, chest heaving as you grab onto the armrest for some kind of leverage, your adrenaline is still pumping through your veins from the action movie-like scene that just happened.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Harry asks, eyes dancing between the road ahead of him and you as he tries to figure out if anything happened to you.

“I-I’m fine, he was just… fucking nasty to deal with you,” you groan at the thought of his hands on you. You’ll need the hottest shower after this, that’s for sure. “Go to the station, we gotta bring the tape in now,” you tell him as you reach into your corset. Pulling the recorder out you huff in relief, it’s been pressed into you for way too long. The tape is still rolling so you end it and then rewind it, checking if everything you need is on it. Luckily, it caught the whole thing perfectly, that means Harry is not going to jail. Well, not this time at least.

He is speeding down the streets as you get rid of the wig and put on your coat, you don’t want to walk into the police station dressed like a hooker and have the word spread that Robert’s sister has been making money some other way lately.

Arriving to the station you hold the recorder so tightly as if your life depends on it while Harry reaches for your other hand and firmly holds it in his warm palm. You walk inside and immediately spot Jeremy at the front desk. Letting go of Harry’s hand you run up to him.

“Jer, I got evidence for the Richards case! I got a confession on tape,” you beam at him holding the recorder up. He gives you a stunned look as he takes the recorder.

“Confession? How do you—“ He is cut off when you hear Harry’s voice from behind you.

“Hey! What the fuck!” he snaps and as you turn around you see that two officers are already on him, trying to handcuff him. Jeremy quickly forgets about the recorder as he joins in on strangling Harry. but you grab his arm and try to pull back.

“No! He didn’t do it! Listen to the tape!” you cry out, desperate to end this mess, but it feels like no one is listening to you.

“Harry Styles, you are under arrest for the murder of Dave Richards. You have the right…” One of the officers starts saying the usual speech as they drag Harry away while you are begging to Jeremy to listen to you.

“Jeremy! He didn’t fucking do it!” you scream, tears rolling down your face.

“What do you mean?” he asks giving you a puzzled look. It was Axel Morris! One of Hugo McKain’s men! They are trying to frame Harry!” you explain, while Harry is being taken away. “Harry, no!” you shout after them, but the officers don’t stop.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll be fine!” he calls after you before he disappears from your vision.

“Jeremy, please just listen to the fucking tape! I got his confession!”

“I’ll look into it, but I’m afraid Harry is spending the night here,” he sighs, looking down at the recorder before he walks away.

“Fuck, no!” you choke out.

When you finally stop crying you rush out of the building and call your brother, not even caring that it’s past midnight. He better answer your call or you are showing up at his house and start banging on his door until he opens it.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he growls into the phone.

“Robert, they fucking took Harry in! I had the confession on tape, but they just wouldn’t listen, they arrested him!”

“Hey, slow down, what are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath you tell him the whole story. The club, the dance, the confession and then how you came straight to the station but they arrested Harry without listening to you.

“Alright, you can’t do much now, Y/N. He is still a suspect but I’ll call Jeremy to look into the tape. If it’s found relevant Harry will be out in the morning okay?”

“Please come in early in the morning and make sure he is let out, please!” you cry out, feeling so helpless after everything that just happened.

“I will. Meet me at the station at six, okay? It’ll be alright. Go home, have some sleep and then we’ll make everything right in the morning.”

You do as Robert asked, go home, have a shower, wash the night off of your skin and lie in bed however you are not able to sleep, not even for a minute. You keep thinking about Harry and what might be happening to him now. They better get their shit together and let him out in the morning or you are losing your mind. You didn’t go through all this just to have him put behind bars anyway.

It’s not even six when you are already at the station, anxiously waiting for Robert to show up. You keep glancing up at the building, thinking about how Harry is somewhere in there and you can only hope he’ll be out with you shortly.

When Robert arrives he goes straight up to check out the situation with the tape and Harry. Waiting for him down in the hall is nerve-wrecking, you feel like time has stopped. When he finally appears again you jump to your feet running up to him with high hopes.

“The tape has been examined, it was classified as evidence. Jeremy has already put out an arrest warrant on Axel. Harry is no longer a suspect. He’ll be down once the paperwork is done.”

“Oh thank God!” you breathe out and throw yourself at him, hugging him tighter than ever.

“Look, but there is something I need to talk to you about,” he says with a serious look.

“Okay, what is it?”

“We might be able to get this Axel guy, but I’m pretty sure Hugo is already after the two of you. We have a whole team for him, working on catching him finally, but it might be smart if you just left town for a little.”

“Oh. Yeah, sounds logical,” you nod.

“Let me know if you need help with that. I can arrange something for you.”

“We’ll see. I have to talk to Harry first.”

“Harry, huh?” Robert smirks down at you knowingly and you feel yourself blushing. A lot has changed lately around you and Harry and you guess it’s quite evident for everyone else as well. “Just so you know, he asked about you during the night. Wanted to know if you are alright.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out with a small smile.

“Yes. Might have been wrong about him a little. Tell him I said hello, I need to get to work now,” he nods with a fond smile.

“Thank you, Robert!” you call after him as he waves in your way before disappearing in the elevator.

Waiting around in the hall you keep looking towards the hallway, hoping to see him appear finally, but the minutes are just dragging by way too slowly.

You’re impatiently sitting on one of the benches by the wall when you finally see him walking down the hallway, leisurely running his hand through his hair, a tired smile sitting on his lips when he sees you leap from your seat and launch at him, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Hey, hey! It’s all good, Love. Told you not to worry about me,” he chuckles, but holds you tight anyway, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you off the ground, taking a few steps forward.

“Of course I fucking worry about you, idiot!” you mumble into his neck before leaning back you look at his pretty face.

“Yeah? Does this mean I had the right to worry about you last night?”

“You were?”

“Fuck yes,” he laughs. “You have no idea what it was like to sit outside and listen to everything that fucker told you. Wanted to punch him in the face so badly.”

“So heroic,” you grin at him, your face already inching closer to his, arms still wrapped around his neck.

“Only for my favorite stripper,” he winks at you, making you gasp.

“If you dare to bring it up again and call me a stripper, I swear to God I—“

You don’t get to finish your threat, because his hand snakes to the back of your neck and he pulls you into a hard kiss, his lips smashing against yours. Melting into the kiss you open your mouth for him without hesitation, his tongue meeting yours as he kisses you with so much vigor and passion, he makes you bend your back, leaning back as he holds you firmly in his strong arms. And suddenly, you feel like you’re seventeen again, making out with your high school crush in the school hallway, luckily, you are kissing the same person you wanted then.

“I’m fucking starving, babe,” he breathes out once you finally pull away from each other. “For you as well, but can we get some real food?” he asks as he laces his fingers together with yours, heading out of the station.

“Sure,” you chuckle. “Hey, there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Love, told you, you can handcuff me to the bedframe, I’m into that stuff.”

“Shut up!” you laugh smacking his chest as the two of you walk out to your car. “It’s not about that,” you murmur with a soft blush. “Robert said we should leave for a while, Hugo might be after us after what happened last night.”

“Yeah, thought about that myself too,” he nods as he gets behind the wheel without even asking if you want him to drive or not.

“So what should we do?” you question, sitting in the comfort of your car. Harry reaches for your hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly before he smirks at you.

“Have you been to Ireland, Love?”

“No,” you breathe out, a little stunned by the question.

“I have a friend over there, I’m sure he would love to have us there for a while. What do you say?”

“Are you for real? You want to go to Ireland with me?”

“Yeah, would be fun, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” you smile in awe. Even after that kiss you had doubts he would want to run away with you for the time being. But he is definitely planning to have you around longer. “Yeah, Ireland sounds fun.”

“Great. Then let’s head home to pack,” he smirks, starting the car. “Oh, Love?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to bring your handcuffs,” he grins and you just laugh at his smugness before leaning closer to kiss him quickly before the two of you finally drive away from the station.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[lalaangeldust]

𝐦𝐢 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚 <3

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 ~

𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚

𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 [ 𝘴𝘧𝘸 ]

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・

[ ����𝐤+ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ]

[ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ] : ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ 20+ // ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ // ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ ʀᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ // ʜᴀɴᴛᴀ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴅᴏʀᴋ // ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴀꜱᴇ // ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴀ ʜᴜɢᴇ, ꜱᴀᴘᴘʏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ // ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴄʀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴏᴡ ꜱɪᴄᴋᴇɴɪɴɢʟʏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ // ɪ ᴅᴇꜰ ᴅɪᴅ // ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʏ'ᴀʟʟ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ʟᴏᴠᴇ-

[ 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ] : ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪɴɴᴇʀ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀɴᴛᴀ'ꜱ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ, ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴛᴄʜᴇɴ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴀᴘᴇʀᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜱ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀᴛᴇ. ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴏᴠᴇʀꜰʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ, ʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘᴏɴᴛᴀɴᴇᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴀꜱᴋ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱʟᴏᴡ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀꜱᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ <3

[ 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲 ] :

ꜱᴇʀᴏ - ᴏʀᴀɴɢᴇ // ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ - ᴘɪɴᴋ

[ 𝐦𝐲𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 ] : ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴇxᴄᴜꜱᴇ ᴍʏ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴘᴀɴɪꜱʜ... ɪ ʟɪᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴘᴀɴɪꜱʜ ꜱᴇʀᴏ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ꜱᴀᴅ ᴀᴍᴏᴜɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴏᴄʀᴇ ꜱᴇʀᴏ ꜰɪᴄꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴘᴀɴɪꜱʜ :| ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴛʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏ ᴛᴀᴘᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ( ᴀᴋᴀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ) ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴘᴀɴɪꜱʜ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ. <3

ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ <3

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊   ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩

┊         ┊       ┊   ✫

┊         ┊      

✩┊ ⊹       ✯

✯

You hum to yourself as you prepare dinner, your boyfriend finishing up the last of his paperwork in your shared bedroom. You would think him being only a sidekick, he wouldn’t get nearly as much work as he’s given now. Not even you get that much. You sigh to yourself at the thought. The least school could’ve done was give you a heads up as students to prepare you for the unexpected paperwork that follows hero work. So much for the education system.

You’re broken from your thoughts as you notice Hanta walking through the small hallway in your view. His hand rubbing the back of his neck while he lets out a drawn out sigh. He looks up at you with his hand still behind his neck. A soft smile tugs at his lips when you greet him with a cute smile before leaning back down into the counter to squint at the recipe you’re reading. He leans to the side, propping his shoulder on the wall next to him and folds his arms over his chest. There’s nothing more he adores more than seeing you like this. Wearing short shorts with one of his old band t-shirts that is far too big for you draping over them, your hair tied up in a loose knot to keep it out of your face while you work. You just always look so effortlessly beautiful and he loves being one of the very few people who get to see you like this.

“You wanna come help me, handsome?” you ask, looking back up at him.

“Hm~?” he hums in response, his eyes lidded in a flirtatious manner.

“Are you gonna come here and help me with dinner? Or are you gonna keep standing there and gawk at me?” you tease while loosely waving the knife in your hand at his direction.

“Oh!” he smacks his forehead in a dramatic manner, “Of course! I was just simply caught in a daze by your bewitching beauty,” he exclaims as he looks at you through his hand, a large, mischievous grin spread on his face as he peeks at you through his fingers. You click your tounge in response.

“You’re such a dork, Hanta,” you roll your eyes at him with a small giggle and start chopping the vegetables in front of you.

Sero chuckles as he sits up from the wall and makes his way towards you, his eyes lingering on you as he approaches.

“Te gusta~” ( you like it ) he purrs behind you as he slinks his lean arms around your waist and pulls you in close to his chest. You sigh at his touch as you lean into him.

“¿Con qué necesitas ayuda?” ( what do you need help with? ) he asks while resting his chin on your head, looking down at your hands mincing the produce needed for your meal.

“Mmm, I like you holding me just like this,” you say with a content hum.

“I can do that…” Hanta whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

He presses his cheek to the side of your head and after a moment, he starts humming a tune. He begins to gently sway you both side to side, careful not to cause you to slice a finger.

"How are you, my love?" you inquire as you move on from chopping vegggies to slicing chicken breasts. Hanta sighs deeply.

"Tired of doing homework... but I got it done in a reasonable amount of time, so... that's all that matters, ¿sí?" he says softly. You hum in acknowledgment.

"How come you don't as much paper work, huh?" he teases while poking your forehead a few times.

"Pfff, beats me- Stop poking me like that! you're gonna make me cut myself," you giggle while swatting his hand away and he chuckles.

"Guess FatGum is more gracious than Kamui Woods," you say in a teasingly smug tone with a shrug.

Hanta huffs at your words.

"Rub it in my face why don't ya. That's not how you cut it, here- lemme show you~"

He trails off while sliding his hands up your waist and down your arms, purposefully making his touch linger. His large hands go to rest on top of yours and starts to guide them as he shows you how to better cut the breast. A slight blush creeps up your face at the gesture. Despite you two dating for nearly three years now, he still manages to make you flustered just like how he did when you two were still in highschool.

"See? The knife needs to be more at an angle, it's a smoother cut that way," he says with a content smile, your blush not going unnoticed.

"Thank you, love," you reply, hoping your flustered state isn't too obvious.

"De nada, mi mariposita," ( you're welcome, my little butterfly ) Hanta hums as his hands migrate back to your waist.

The use of the endearing petname only makes your blush more evident. Cheeky bastard always knows every button to press and how to press it to reduce you back to nothing but a flustered school girl. He revels in the way he can pull such cute reactions out of you. Lets him know you like him at least half as much as he adores you.

"You're adorable when you get flustered, hermosa ( beautiful ) and from such small actions too~," Hanta muses in your ear. His hands gliding back down to your hips, his lips pressing soft kisses on your cheek, trailing them all the way down to your jaw.

"Hanta please- You're being very distracting," you scold, though you tilt your head to the side to allow Hanta better access for kisses, completely contradicting your words.

"I just might have to kick you out of the kitchen if you get to handsy," you continue, "I wanna eat dinner at a reasonable hour tonight," you conclude with a huff.

Hanta completely disregards your words as he starts to nip at the top of your ear.

"Puede eparar," ( it can wait ) He hovers his hand to yours, making you set down the knife, "Just for a moment, ¿por favor?"

He cranes his neck over to look at you with his bottom lip sticking out, feigning a pout as he bats his eyelashes at you for extra measure. You stifle a giggle at your boyfriend's antics and let out a drawn out sigh. You let go of the knife and lean your head back on his shoulder in defeat.

"Ugh, fine~ only for a second though, okay? and let me at least wash my hands first,"

"That's my girl," he hums into the shell of your ear and shuffles to the sink with you, waddling in a somewhat awkward fashion while he keeps his arms wrapped around you firmly.

As you run your hands under the faucet water, Hanta presses affectionate kisses onto the column of your neck. You giggle from the ticklish feeling and shrug him off.

"What's gotten into you?" you ask, "You're not usually this sweet," you say as you dry off your hands with a rag.

"Do I need a reason?" he inquires, "I just love you, that's all,"

As soon as you drop the rag, he intertwines his fingers with yours and spins you around. With you two now face to face, you get a clear view of that all too familiar grin of his tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes are locked on yours and the way he looks at you so deeply makes your heart flutter. You swear his dark eyes shine like the night sky, though, Hanta never takes you seriously when you tell him. He's never been very good at taking compliments and usually brushes them off with a light hearted joke. But it's true~ and you make sure to remind him as often as you can.

You softly smile at him while raising your hand to rest on the back of his neck and start running your fingers through the hair near his nape.

"You're so handsome," you coo. Hanta's expression softens as he leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

"You always know how to make me feel special, hermosa," he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours, your noses just barely touching.

He presses his hand to your cheek and gently rubs his thumb across your cheek bone. You close your eyes and relax into this quiet moment with him.

The hand on his neck ushers his face towards yours as you bring him into a kiss. Hanta sighs into your lips as he pulls you closer to him by the small of your back, closing what little distance was left between you. Hanta's kisses are the worst and best kind of drug, always leaving you breathless and intoxicated every time. He's a rather passionate kisser. No matter when, where or for how long, Hanta always manages to jam pack each one with overwhelming love. You could never get enough of them and he could never get enough of you.

You drag your hand up his abdomen and he lets out the smallest groan before pulling away from you. He chuckles at you, amused by the look you give him for pulling away. He grabs your hand and brings it up to his mouth.

"¿Quieres bailar?," ( care to dance? ) Hanta inquires before pressing a soft kiss to your knuckle.

"With no music? My phone is all the way across the kitchen and I don't think you'll let me go to grab it with how affectionate you're being," you tease.

"Haha, you know me so well, mariposita, ( little butterfly ) and besides..." he pauses for a moment, placing your hand onto his broad shoulder before continuing, "with you? No necesito musica..." ( I don't need music )

You roll your eyes at him with a giggle and push him away while trying to stifle the smile fighting to surface onto your face.

"Ugh, you're gonna make my teeth rot from all that sticky sap you're spewing," you scrunch up your nose in fake disgust but your terribly hidden smile conveys an entirely different message.

Hanta gives amused chuckle in response. His smile nearly spreading ear to ear before he leans his face in to give you a chaste peck on the lips.

"¿Que pasa?" he muses, quirking his brow at you, "Am I embarrassing you, lovebug? My affections just too much for you~? Would be quite a shame if it was," Hanta taunts, glancing down at you only to be met with you practically burning holes in his head.

Your brows furrowed at him trying your best to not get flustered as a slight blush starts blooming on the apples of your cheeks. You hate how he can so easily get under your skin. Hanta, however and much to your frustration, thinks the glare you're giving him is adorable and can't help but laugh. He raises his hand to his mouth in an attempt to hide his laugh.

"I'm only messing with you, pretty baby," he coos but you've had just about enough of his stupid face and go to pinch his ear, giving it a firm tug.

"Ow, ow! okay! okay!" He rubs his ear on his shoulder, "Ugh, you're no fun," Hanta pouts.

"No fun-??" you start to guffaw, but cut yourself off as an idea pops in your head and a sly smirk begins to spread on your face. Two can play at this game, Hanta~

"Really?" you resume, "Well~, if I'm no fun then I guess I can go back to making dinner then, hm?" you say, reflecting his playful energy.

"Well, I didn't mean that," Hanta is quick to reply.

You give a low chuckle in response as you slowly run your hand up the nape of his neck to the back of his head. Letting your nails lightly drag on his scalp and his hair tangle between your fingers, Hanta straight up shivers underneath your touch. Feeling his slight shudder underneath you gives you a massive confidence boost as you go onto your nest move.

With your eyes hooded and locked on his, you lean your face closer to him. Your lips are parted, making it seem like you're coming in for a kiss, only to pull back, ghosting his lips when he went to meet yours. Hanta grunts in frustration and you let out a soft chuckle. Letting go of Hanta, giving him a smug grin while doing so, you turn around make your way back to the counter behind you.

Not even one step into walking away from him, you feel the familiar sensation of his tape wrapping firmly around your waist. With one swift motion of his arm, Hanta jerks you back to him. Though the distance between you two was short, the force of the sudden impact into your boyfriend's chest was enough to make him stumble a bit and pull a soft "oomph" out of you.

"I don't think so~," Hanta says in a sing-songy voice.

"Oh-! Hanta!! I hate when you do that!" you exclaim while frantically trying to squirm out of his strong tape.

You know it's not very worth trying to worm your way out of something he's worked years on making inescapable, but it doesn't hurt to try none the less. You know he wouldn't give you anything too strong you wouldn't be able to get out of it... At least not without his help.

Hanta's strong arms wrap around your waist and squeezes you close. His mouth hovers right behind your ear, his lips just barely grazing the shell of it as he purrs into you.

"Mmm, but you look so cute with my tape rapped around your waist like that~ That shirt is so big on you, it makes you look like you're wearing a skirt with how it bunches up underneath it," He taunts behind you, his voice low, causing heat to rise up your neck.

"Which happens to be mine, by the way," he adds in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Huh, I didn't notice," you say in an annoyed manner, turning your head away from him and crossing your arms over your chest.

Hanta frowns and hunches his neck over to try and look at you and feigns a pout on his face.

"Now, don't be like that, muñequita," ( doll ) he says before pressing a kiss on your jaw.

You turn your head to face Hanta, half faking an irritated expression at him. Immediately catching onto your demeanor, Hanta quirks his eyebrow suggestively and decides to play along.

"Well~" he hums, into your ear, "I won't be letting go until I get that dance I asked for, mariposita. ( little butterfly ) Just so you know," His voice dropping to that raspy tone he knows gets you weak at the knees.

He nips at your ear lobe and tightens his grip on your waist. As loving as Hanta is, there's almost nothing he loves more than this kind of banter between the two of you. Never being one to turn down a good challenge, he loves messing with you and testing your limits, respectfully of course, and occasionally finding new ways to make you melt underneath him in the process.

"Will you help me take this tape off afterwards if I do?" you huff, giving your butt an innocent wiggle against his crotch just to see if you'll get a reaction.

Hanta's breath hitches at the motion but plays it off cool, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of knowing you got to him.

"Of course, amor. That is.. only if you decide to play nice and stop trying to squirm out of my arms," he replies, "Buuut then again... I can just tape you to me~ Easiest way to keep your pretty face from slipping away from me again," He gives you a challenging look before planting a kiss right underneath your jaw, his lips lingering on the soft skin and fights the urge to leave a mark there.

Hanta definitely knows what kinda game you're trying to play and he doesn't plan on losing.

His grip loosens on your waist a bit as he goes to grab his phone from the pocket of his sweats.

"Any suggestions?" Hanta inquires, not giving you much of a chance to retort.

You scowl at him but Hanta doesn't acknowledge you in the slightest as he looks at his phone. The shit eating grin plastered on his face infuriates you to no end but you reluctantly decide against any snarky remarks, knowing full well Hanta always follows through with his challenges, no matter the context.

"Hmmm," you pause for a moment to think, "I'm not sure..." you say, tapping your chin thoughtfully.

"You choose, love. I'm too indecisive to pick," you conclude with a small shrug.

Hanta hums in acknowledgment as he sifts through his playlist.

"How bouuut~" drawing out the last word as he approaches the song he wants, "It's Been a Long Long Time? That one always seems to be your favorite," he says as he presses his cheek against yours.

[ Listen to the song while you read or you might just meet your next paralysis demon tonight :) 🔪 ily *muah* ]

"Wow, you really are in a romantic mood,"

"Eres mi mujer muy especial," ( you're my special woman ) he purrs into you making your heart flutter at his sweet words. Hanta lets go of your stomach and slides his hand down your side, stopping at your hip. "I wanna show you how much I love you. Even when you decide to act like a brat," He winks at you.

"Ouch, you really hurt me, Hanta. Truely," You reply sarcastically, flying your hand to your chest in a dramatic gesture and flash him a mischievous smile.

"Sooo, is that a yes?" he asks eagerly. You giggle at his excitement and nod.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind dancing to that song" You say softly.

He hums contently, grabbing your hand in his and spins you around to face him.

Your song now playing, Hanta tucks his phone back in his pocket before his hand finds its home on your waist, his other hand tenderly holding yours. You follow, placing your hand right where his neck and shoulder meet. Caressing small circles in the crook of his neck with your fingertips and you look at Hanta almost in awe. Oh, how did you get so lucky to be with a man like him. He truly makes your life seem like something out of a fairy tale. Like a real life prince charming.

Pulling you as close to him as possible, Hanta hangs his head next to yours as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck and let out a deep sigh. He looks down at you with love sick eyes as you make yourself comfortable against him and hum along to the song playing. As the two of you sway from side to side, anything and everything outside of your little apartment kitchen fades out to silence, leaving only you and him in your world.

"Te amo tanto, mi mariposa," ( I love you so much, my butterfly ) Hanta whispers into your hair, "You know that right? I hope I make it obvious... eres mi vida," ( you are my life ) your heart swells at his words and you nuzzle deeper into his neck, smiling against him as you press a soft kiss there.

"Yeah, I know..." you murmur back to him. Your hand slides up from his neck to cup his cheek and he sighs at your touch. "I love you too, Hanta. A lot," you feel Hanta's cheek pull back in a smile.

"Even though you annoy the shit outta me sometimes," you say with a laugh, hoping you didn't kill the romantic atmosphere too much.

Your head bobs up and down with his shoulders as he chuckles.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, princesa, but that's just part of the package deal," He lifts his head up and looks down at you on his shoulder.

"Don't think I'd really count as your boyfriend if I wasn't the most annoying person on the planet," He says, winking at you when you look up. You scrunch your nose at him in response and start giggling.

Boyfriend

Your heart warms at Hanta referring to himself as your boyfriend. Though, if you were to be completely honest, it leaves you somewhat disappointed. Not disappointed in the sense where you don't like him being your boyfriend. No, not even in the slightest. You're not disappointed in the sense where you wish you two were more than just "boyfriend" and "girlfriend"... well... maybe a little.

Neither of you have really been much for titles and you are quite content with how you're living with Hanta now. But that doesn't mean you haven't thought about what it would be like to be a bit more...

"Hanta?" you ask without realizing.

"¿Si, Hermosa?"

You hesitate for a beat, chewing the inside of your mouth, contemplating how to approach this. You slide your hand from his cheek down to his collar, toying with the hem of his shirt. He looks down at you again, his usually relaxed face forming a shadow of worry.

"Have you ever thought about... getting married?" You internally cringe at the awkward way you brought it up but you roll with it.

An immediate wave of relief washes over Hanta as his worrying thoughts are snuffed out just as fast as they came in. His expression softens and holds back a coo when he notices how your demeanor has become more shy at the question.

"Yeah, of course I have," he debates whether it's the right time to poke fun at it or not, but decides to let you continue.

You start chewing on your bottom lip, trying to figure out how to ask Hanta without being more awkward about it than you already have been.

"Well... Have you thought about marrying me..?" Your voice hardly above a whisper as you hide your flushing face from embarrassment when you ask.

Hanta's heart squeezes at the innocent way you bring up the subject. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he lets go of your hand to cup your cheek in his large palm. He guides your face up to look at him, his eyes tender and loving as they meet yours.

"Oh, mariposa. I think about it every day," he replies in the most soft and genuine tone you've heard from him yet.

You look at him, wide eyed and awestruck. Not sure how to respond, an uncontrollable smile peers on your face and you bite your lip to try and contain your unexpected excitement.

"Really?" Is all you can manage to say in the moment.

You feel Hanta's chest shake against you as he chuckles. He gently brushes the hair out of your face as he looks at you lovingly.

"Mhm, especially during moments like these,"

He flips his hand over and caresses his knuckles down the side of your face. Your heart swells inside your chest as he then presses the palm of his hand to your cheek, your ears flushing pink as he gingerly guides your face to look at him. His eyes trail down to your lips to see you still anxiously chewing on it, gliding his thumb across your bottom lip to try and ease the tension.

"Would you care to spend your life with a guy like me.?" He earnestly asks as his eyes look back up to look at you

"God, you're such a romantic sap," you tease with a giggle but when your eyes meet his, you can see he in his face it was a genuine question.

Your thoughts stall at the thought, your words jamming in your throat when you try to speak. Placing your hand on his cheek, you give him a genuine smile as you finally find the words to say.

"I think I would like that," your voice soft and low.

Hanta's eyes brighten, a wide smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he starts bouncing on the balls of his feet from his excitement. He places his hand on top of yours, pressing it closer to him while hugging your waist tight. Both of you unsure of what to say next, you lean deeper into each other, desperate to be as close as possible. Hanta manages to whisper an "I love you," before your lips collide in a soft yet passionate kiss. No words are needed to be said between the two of you when your kiss already speaks a thousand words on its own.

Yeah, spending the rest of your life with him sounds like a dream~

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜

𝒇𝒊𝒏 . ✩

[bubblyani]

Distraction

(Patrick Bateman x Reader)

A Patrick Bateman One Shot

Fandom: American Psycho (film) 2000

Rating: Mature (cuz it’s Bale’s Bateman duh!)

Requested by: @tealaquinn thank you for the naughty suggestion. Our conversations helped a lot.

Author’s Note: I couldn’t help but make the simple premise of a sexy distraction into a fully fledged one shot. Writing something for him had been a challenging dream. Don’t know how accurate it could be to the Bateman y’all imagine but a fangirl can dream, right?? I regret nothing. Enjoy!

Hushed whispers followed you, capturing your attention the moment you stepped into the Office Building. And you simply were to blame.

The manner that your high heels clicked on the marble floors certainly announced your entrance.The manner your long, shiny tresses swished from side to side made several heads turn with fascination, while the way your hips swayed in the tight pencil skirt brought on unwanted stiffness in the pants of some Wall Street yuppies.

“Whoa…Who’s that?” “Don’t you know? That’s Y/N Y/L/N” “Nope, doesn’t ring any bells” “She’s Bateman’s girlfriend” “What? You kidding me? That’s her? She’s a fox. Why the hell would she go out with a Loser like Bateman?”

The hushed voices suddenly disappeared the moment you stopped in your tracks, turning to glare at them.You glared at them as if it had the power to slice their throats. Indulging in that power, you settled their nerves with a smile. A smile that truthfully was emptier than a hollow shell.

Resuming your walk, you could not help but be troubled by what they had said for it was nonsensical to the fullest. Any word or phrase that had the tiniest inclination of an insult towards your man was intolerable. They made your toes curl and palms tighten. For he was no loser. You knew that for certain. He was a man, he was your man. And you always made sure he felt so.

As you reached closer to your destination, a woman with sandy blond hair quickly rose up from her seat with enthusiasm. It was his secretary.

“Good Morning Jean” you smiled, as you finally stood in front of her desk. “Good Morning, Y/N…” Jean replied, “You look beautiful today” she said genuinely. To which you chuckled shyly. “Thank you darling, and you never fail to look sophisticated” Your hand rested on the doorknob. Turning it slowly , you heard his voice boom in his office. Possibly on a phone conversation. Patrick Bateman’s authoritative voice never failed to have an impact on you. Mostly excitement or arousal. It made you fill with pride. The pride you have belonging to someone wonderful.

“I don’t give a damn about your excuses! I just need that fixed-” He was cut off the moment you entered the room.

“Reginald, I’m gonna have to call you back” Patrick said, his eyes remaining glued to as he hung up.

Eyes exchanged greetings during the few seconds of silence. You smiled softly, to which he smiled in return. A small smile that fully assured he was pleased to see you.

“You didn’t have to do that” You began, motioning to the phone. Scoffing, Patrick put his legs up, crossing them over the table comfortably. “Please” he said, “...it was nothing important anyways” He added casually. Taking a few steps towards the table, your eyes spotted the walkman and his pair of headsets.

“What were you listening to?” “Katrina and the Waves” “Nice” You smiled, nodding.

He responded with another smile. Unlike the others, the smile was never forceful with you. It was genuine. The sheer reaction you would involuntarily display when someone else appreciates your taste in music.

“So…” he began, “What Brings you to Pierce & Pierce?” He asked, whilst you peeped through the blinds, “to spy on someone?” “No...By the way is Paul Allen still around?” You asked so casually, his smile  suddenly disappeared. “Yes” His disgruntled tone was evident. But to his surprise you turned to him with a scowl.

“Eh! What a shame” You added unimpressed. Chuckling, he was relieved. It was unfathomable how easily he could do it now.

“Anyways...” you began, “I was in the neighborhood so I was wondering if you wanna grab lunch with me…” with a hopeful expression, you walked  back to him with your hands tied behind your back. Sitting back in his regular position, Patrick looked over at his schedule.

“Sorry…I have a lunch meeting with Bryce and the others” Patrick answered coolly, still looking at it. “Oh…Okay…” crossing your arms, you looked down shyly. Except you suddenly felt his gaze on you once again, staring at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?” You asked, making him raise his index finger up.

“You’ve...buttoned it up wrong” He said, pointing at your jacket.

“What?”

His uncomfortable expression made you look down and gasp.

“Oh! Sorry….” You chuckled uncontrollably, “I can be such a klutz sometimes”

Patrick’s eyebrows did not relax ,for he did not believe it.You were never a klutz. It did not make sense. But the moment you finally undid your jacket, his tense eyebrows were suddenly raised with surprise.

Instead of a cotton or silk shirt, you only wore a bustier, an exquisite lace kind that complimented your figure and your complexion, simply doing wonders revealing your full, generous cleavage. Hunching forward to grab the end buttons, the cleavage involuntarily managed to pop up a bit more.

“Always do it from the bottom, right??” Joking innocently, you buttoned the up jacket, still in the midst of his attentive gaze.

“There…” You said, as the final button held the jacket together, “...all perfect! thanks to you” with a smile.

Patrick said nothing, but merely nodded in acknowledgement as he stared at you thoughtfully. His hand formed in to a fist. He seemed frustrated.

“Patrick you okay?”

“Hmm?” Woken from his thoughts, he appeared confused, “Yeah…Fine...” he muttered, with a tight lipped smile. Liar. “Right…Anyways I’m be going home then. I’ll see you...when I see you” You said, opening the door halfway, only to face him once more, “Have m fun at lunch” Winking, you made your exit. “Bye Jean!” “Bye Y/N!”

Excitement evident in her footsteps, Jean entered the office, beaming.

“I’m sorry to be so forward Patrick but...Y/N is just incredible” she said, her eyes shining. It was no surprise. You were always so nice to Jean.

“Yes she is…” Patrick said, still lost in his thoughts.   “Jean…” “Yes Patrick?” She asked as he finally looked up at her. “Clear my schedule for the entire day” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The possibility of someone such as yourself crossing paths with someone like Patrick Bateman was quite unlikely. But by the stroke of fate, it did. And the American Gardens Building was to blame.

According that he had heard on the grapevine, he had a new neighbor who had recently moved in. And it was not until one fine evening that the both of you were finally aware of each other’s existence. Returning from a night out with the guys, Patrick was just about to enter his apartment when a stranger suddenly passed him by. A stranger he simply could not take his eyes off of. Suffice to say that stranger was you.

You remembered his first ever stare so clearly. It was as you were being drenched in honey. Sticky and noticeable. You remembered how he smiled and the way he greeted you. How you greeted him back in kind, and simply went in to your apartment. Short but impressionable. It was only when you both finally got together, Patrick admitted how he masturbated that night thinking about you. Though you felt corny to the bone, you mutually agreed.

A date was an eventuality. Your mysterious aura drove him crazy enough, he finally asked you out for a drink. Curiosity was killing him. He tried to figure you out. What desire of his were you able to satisfy? What kind of girl were you going to be? But, nothing triggered him for the night passed in a flash with the two of you making merry conversation, hitting off so well. The fact you were actually unbelievably keen on him, took him by surprise. In a society where people barely noticed nor acknowledged, you managed to impress him by noticing almost everything, and knew when to keep your mouth shut. For the only times you opened it, It was to do and say the right things.

Intriguing you were in his eyes. Beautiful, with a great personality which seemed unfathomable. You were not his usual type, and you were no bimbo. You were simply ,different. Regardless of mutual or non mutual interests, the genuine interest you showed was equal. And with every dinner or drinks date, it was hard for Patrick Bateman to resist how much of actual fun he was having. Was he dreaming? None of this seemed truly possible. And quite frankly, it made him highly suspicious.

He tried testing your limits. And with one attempt he gave up fast.

It was a quiet afternoon one weekend, when you stopped by on a surprise visit to his apartment. Dressed in merely his underwear and a t-shirt, all white, he invited you in with a reluctant attitude. The sounds of the television filled the entire apartment. And it was not regular television.

“Oh! Is that porn?” You asked, as soon as you realized the erotic nature of the video being played. “Yes” Patrick answered. He did not flinch, as he watched you with focus. He watched you so closely as if you were his little science experiment. What were you going to say? How will you react?

Contrary to his expectation, you did not bat an eye. Instead, your eyes just lingered there. You stood there watching it. It was only you who knew how aroused you were getting by the sight of the erotic act that took place. The sight of the gracious naked woman on her knees, willingly savoring, tasting her lover while she went down on him. And how his hand held on to her hair tightly.

“Would you like some-” You effortlessly cut off Patrick’s formality with a kiss that contained intense pressure. You kissed him with heat, with a need, finishing it by playfully biting his lower lip. Catching her eyes in his, he sensed the soul inside you was not the same as he had seen in others. Something primal lingered in you.

“What are you thinking?” He asked.

“Well…I was thinking…” you purred, “…that we can do that better” you added, pointing at the tv without even looking at it. And it came as a surprise to Patrick when your other hand had sneakily rested on his lower abdomen, feeling the softness of his cotton white t-shirt. Lust took over, and his eyes showed off its glint. When he instantly took your hand to feel his clothed erection, you gasped with satisfaction.

The both of you ended up making a sex tape that evening, which seemed more colorful than any porno he had ever watched.

When the recorder stopped recording, when he was laying in bed beside you, Patrick could not help but marvel at your tolerance towards his sexual needs. Not only tolerant, but extremely supportive. He felt warm, he felt an unfamiliarity. And it made him hungry with greed. A greed for you, a need for you. Which was certainly rare.

That was when he knew, you only satisfied one desire and one only. His desire for genuine companionship.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(Present)

Having lived in New York long enough, you were absolutely aware when you were being stalked. This time however, you were not alarmed, nor threatened. On the contrary, excitement bubbled within. Though you pretended to not even notice, you knew who it was. And he was to blame.

You were impressed. A few blocks was understandable. But an entire taxi ride? That was commitment for stalking. There you were, on your way back to the American Gardens Building. And you were aware of his presence a few feet away.

As you pressed the button for the elevator, you waited. You sensed him stand behind you a few feet away. The excitement increased by tenfolds.

Ding! The elevator announced its arrival with the doors opening. And you just could not resist.

“You coming, Patrick?”

You inquired coolly, whilst entering the elevator. And as you have guessed, rudely pushing away other residents with gusto, your stalker Patrick Bateman joined you inside soon after. Slamming the close button, tension grew between the two of you as the doors closed. And when finally closed, he grasped the opportunity to ambush you with a hungry kiss.

He was never the biggest fan of kisses before he met you. Sex? Yes. But kisses? Not really. But feeling the enthusiasm and heat you brought in as your contribution, he was compelled to do the same. He was addicted more than simply interested. With another Ding! The elevator finally reached your floor, witnessing the frantic lovers stumble out, lips still glued to one another. Patrick’s place was closer, thus it was already decided. The

mere few seconds his lips left yours to open the door was a punishment itself, but rectified soon after. Pulling you in, he slammed you against the closed door, only to kiss you once again. His lips were simply the definition of starved when he tasted yours, making it quite difficult for you to push his overcoat off his broad shoulders. But he proved to excel in multitasking, opening up your own jacket so fast, all of the buttons just popped out. And once again, your lace bustier revealed itself, heaving alongside your chest. “You’re such a fuckin’ tease!” Patrick breathed against your lips, “Right there in my office...Wearing this!” He added, peeling your jacket off. With a knowing smile, you chuckled.

“Ha! And here I was wondering how long it would take for you to finally give in…mmm-”

How could you really finish when he shut you up with more kisses, which was more than you could ask for.Whatever clothing obstacle that came in the way, you made sure to get rid yourself of them. His own Pin stripped Armani jacket for example. Tossing them at all directions, you were honestly quite surprised he did not pay attention. Being the meticulous man he normally was.

You attempted to walk, grabbing him by his pants during. Pressing himself against your back, his pants were quite noticeable.

“Where do you think you’re going, hmmm?” Patrick asked you, through gritted teeth as his lips grazed over your ear.

“To bed, silly! ” you replied playfully. “Good girl…” His growl, it made your inner walls quiver with impatience. You felt his hand firmly stroke your buttocks, unzipping the pencil skirt only to let it fall off you. Reaching the bed, he watched you spin around and greedily begin to undo his pants with an excited look. That excitement, that greed was akin to a child ending up at a candy store.

You were impatient, you couldn’t stress this enough. Once his pants were loose, you managed to pull out his shirt ready to undo. The sight of his sculpted abs and his tanned skin made your mouth water. Imagining him naked in his glory was a blessing you could never forget. All this, you did under his wild gaze. Pressing his forehead against yours, he groaned.

“You like this, don’t you?” There he was, teasing you once again in the most seductive of voices. Feeling the curves of your buttocks, he sneakily managed to pull down your panties.

“You bet I do, daddy” You purred, looking up at him before accepting his kisses. Open mouth, generous with tongue, you just wanted to melt in his arms. He learnt well. Biting your lower lip playfully, he pushed you to his neatly arranged bed. Giggles left your lips when he joined in. Dressed in only your lace bustier, lace panties bunched around your knees, with stockings and garters to match, you were definitely in your element for the moment. Whilst he had his hair disheveled, shirt half opened, and tie loosened along with his pants. You had Patrick Bateman right where you wanted him.

“What about your lunch plans?” “Not important” You smiled mischievously when he climbed on top on you, “You didn’t have to do that!” “Please” he said, spreading your legs open to get in between you, “It was nothing important anyways“.

Your eyes widened the moment you felt him enter you without a single warning. Happened so fast, which made it so thrilling and arousing.

His speed was evident this time, each of his thrusts translated his frustrations to your tease this morning. And you heard them speak out loud. How fucking dare you? Who gave you the fucking right? Stroking your thighs, he felt the softness of your stockings. He moved, savoring the sight of you writhe and moan with liberation.

Cupping his face, your fingers grazed around his jawline. You knew how privileged you were to touch him this way. The way your arms were placed over your body pushed your cleavage up higher, it teased Patrick even more. He announced his frustration with a harder thrusts. When that didn’t seem sufficient, you watched him pull down one of the straps of your bustier. It came down so fast you were worried of possible tearing. The beckoning was successful when he poured sloppy kisses over your curvaceous breast that popped out. Each kiss lit small fires over your skin, even more so when he trapped the erect nipple between his mouth, suckling it hard until you swore it turned blue. Your vocal responses merely were limited to sounds, for you did not have the capacity to even think as you were occupied being pleasured. Expressing his own satisfaction, he kissed, he sucked, he even left a hickey right below the curve of your breast, one that could make quite a statement. All the while he kept moving inside you. Your moans were gracious, loud and authentic. And hearing him moan in return was a gift in itself. You could reach your peak by just listening to him.

Immersed in deep pleasure, Patrick pulled your hair back, leaving kisses over your protruding neck, as his speed increased leading to him finally meeting his climax with  your own. Both sounds merged together, suddenly grew quiet in unison. Like a giant wave finally crashing into the beach in slow motion. Raising his head, he looked at you.

“The next time you do that, I swear I will fuck you senseless...right in my office” he said, panting. You chuckled. “My!” You said, gleefully, “now that’s something to look forward to” Inciting laughter from him. When the laughter died, you rubbed your nose against his affectionately.

“Good…” you continued, “…then you will have something Paul Allen and Bryce will be jealous about” you teased.

“Oh...I already have…” Patrick said , “I have You”

Warmth came over you. The way he said it, sheer pride was oozing. Pride that was enriched with the fact there was a deeper understanding between you and him. An understanding that could even lead to many, many great things.

A gasp exited you when you felt him sneakily insert one of his fingers inside you, making you moan. And just like that, you were aroused once more. And he was to blame.

“I’m never letting you go, Patrick Bateman” you breathed, pulling him by the tie to kiss him, moaning further into his lips as his fingers began to work on you.

While those fingers moved, he took the pleasure in watching you. But this time, when his eyes caught yours, his heart clenched.

For the first time ever, he was afraid.

Afraid to realize how dangerous you actually were. So much so that you seem to be fully responsible for the surprising changes he had been going through.

A distraction from his every life. A type of distraction he did not want to let go.

A vital one.

——————————————————

@erika92pu​ @christianbalefanatic​

Check My MASTERLIST for More :)

[izzabeean]

Chapter 5 : Impulse

SUMMARY

You've learned something you wish you didn't about Ushijima and now you wish you could forget.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 2,836

tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : What can I say, Y/N has a bit of a sweet tooth! I mean if I spent a day in the city you bet I would be eating a lot of food. Or is that just me? Anyway, I am happy with how this turned out! The next chapter is going to be so fun!

Will try to post every Thursday evening PST, if not latest by Friday.

Hope you're enjoying the series so far!

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Today sucks. 

After last night, you didn’t think it could get any worse, but you were so wrong. The sliver of hope that today was going to be a bit better quickly vanished in a matter of seconds leaving your heart even more shattered than you thought was possible. 

So why? 

Why is it that you saw the person you’d love the most with a girl you’d never seen before? As much as you wish it weren’t so, the evidence is right in front of you no matter how many times you try to push the image away. 

Staring down at your soft serve ice cream, nearly melted, you let out a big sigh trying to repress the tears wanting to form. You wish your favorite flavor of frozen dessert could solve all your problems, alas, the rich creamy flavors only remind you of a date you had with Ushijima… 

“It’s never too cold for ice cream,” you spout, arms linked with Ushijima marching your way to your favorite ice cream shop. It was this particular spot that made you realize Ushijima is more than what you’ve ever wanted in your life. You’d been dating for six months now, a new record in your love life, also a big surprise you haven’t tired him out with your nonsense.

Instead of arguing whether a cold dessert was an appropriate snack in the winter, he just let out a deep sigh in reply knowing you’re not going to be convinced otherwise. 

“Don’t give me that,” you holler, covering your face in your hands, refusing to look at Ushijima.

Gently, he grabs your hands pulling them away from your face giving you a little kiss on the cheek in apology for his teasing.

“Y/N.”

Oikawa’s voice pulls you out of your bitter memory back to sitting across from him at a cafe. Your heart drops, realizing that there will not be any more moments like that with Ushijima. Did everything always remind you of him this much?

“You’re ice cream,” Oikawa says, eyes locked on to the dessert dripping on your hand. 

Quickly you get up from the table grabbing some napkins to wipe up the mess you’ve made which resonates with you very well at this point. Not only are you emotionally a mess, apparently now you can’t even physically get a hold of yourself. Emotional pain is just temporary, yes, yet there’s this overwhelming feeling that makes you think your entire world is closing in on you.

In the process of cleaning up the sticky residue, you let out a growl noticing it’s dripped onto your palish pants producing a humiliating colored stain. You start pressing on the fabric in hopes your mishap would magically disappear… It doesn’t. 

Oikawa peers down at your pants attempting to conceal his chuckle with a titter.

“It’s not funny,” you rasp.

But Oikawa can’t stop himself from bursting into a loud guffaw resulting in a free-flowing of tears. 

Completely exasperated by the chaos, you throw out what’s left of your liquefied treat and sit back at the table covering your face with your hands. You didn’t feel in a rush to embarrass yourself more by strutting around the city with a large smudge of ice cream on your pants.

Once Oikawa gains his composure, he takes his jacket off and passes it to you across the table.

“You can hold this to cover it,” he offers.

The gesture feels loaded, like the true intent is much more devious than that, especially since he seemed to find it so amusing. There’s no way Oikawa could perform such gracious acts of kindness. 

“Take it,” he says. 

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” You reply, shoving the coat away with your hands. 

Oikawa shrugs, “I’ll be fine.”

Giving in to his persistency, you take the jacket. “Thank you,” you breathe.

You watch Oikawa straighten out his shirt and fix his hair as a couple of girls walk by giggling, smiling at him, one even gives a little wave. It puzzles you how Oikawa can be such a dreamboat, from your years of friendship, his reputation borderlines annoying and childish, but the little gestures he’s made today have really made you rethink; this was a side to Oikawa you’ve never seen before.

On your way back to the train station, you look out toward the horizon and see the sun setting; pinks and oranges fill the sky, and the sight before you is quite romantic. The scene itself ended up turning out to be soothing despite the alarming encounter from earlier.

Now your new reality is finally setting in where there’s no Ushijima.

“I don’t want to go home,” you utter.

Oikawa studies you with your head hanging low. The glow of the sun coats you in its gleaming rays, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining things but he noticed the light capture a shimmer of a single tear tracking down your cheek. Then it finally resonates with him: you're not okay. 

“Wish I could get out of these pants though,” you laugh. Then just like that, you revert to a smile. 

“Let’s take you out,” Oikawa says.

“Out? Like to a club?” You didn’t fully expect any sort of resolution from Oikawa, your comment was meant to be rhetorical. 

“Yeah! You, me, and Iwa! We never go together and it will be good for you to go out to have some fun!”

“I don’t know about that,” you sigh.

Oikawa’s eyes widen, the look on his face is full of excitement basically begging you to say yes. He must know you’re feeling vulnerable because it doesn’t take a moment more of hesitation to.

------

When Oikawa said he was going to take you out, he really meant it. The nightclub is lavish as loud music pulses in your chest while crowds of people huddle around the bar and scatter across the dance floor. 

Oikawa could be considered an avid clubber, how could he not be when he is so popular with girls, and had always tried to convince you to join him. You never really have, but you’ve also never really had your heartbroken to this degree. 

“It’s about to get even more crowded,” Oikawa yells into your ear.

10:13 pm on a Saturday evening and it’s going to get busier? Oh god.

Crowds aren’t your thing. Clubs aren’t your thing. Drinking isn’t really your thing. What are you even doing here?

“Shots?” Oikawa suggests pointing to the bar.

Your stomach churns at the thought. Diving into the night with shots seems excessive; they always leave a bitter taste in your mouth and the strong smell makes you want to gag. You wanted a drink to ease you into the evening...

“6 shots of Jäger,” Oikawa orders. 

Maybe not so much tonight.

The bartender retrieves the alcohol and brings back six shot glasses, each filled to the rim of dark liquor. Holding the shot glass up to your face, the potent smell makes your nose scrunch. With a cheers, you throw back the alcohol and the sensation burns your throat; it’s awful. Knowing there’s a second shot waiting, you don't delay the inevitable.

“Someone’s eager,” Oikawa purrs watching you down the second shot. 

The corners of your mouth turn down as the hairs on your back stand up. You let out an ick and turn to Oikawa and Iwaizumi who are both in awe of your tenacity.  Truthfully, you were shocked too. Then all the tension in your body seems to disperse, from the day, from entering the nightclub. You finally feel relaxed.

“Am I going to be waiting for you all night? Or what?” You tease eyeing their untouched liquor. 

Both men look at each other and take the shot in one gulp. Calling over the bartender you order another round, this time they’re a lot easier to take.

“You’re really not playing around,” Iwaizumi teases, impressed that you’re able to down three shots in a matter of minutes upon entering the venue.

Shifting your gaze to Iwaizumi, he looks so hot in his black button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone. A warm feeling fills your chest, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol hazing your perception or you were genuinely starting to crush on him. 

Damn it, you think to yourself while your eyes continue to linger on him. 

Considering your current situation, the smart thing to do here would be to do nothing. On the other hand, you couldn’t help that your heart fluttered in Iwaizumi’s presence. Surely, he didn’t realize the meaning behind his words but it brought you lower into the sort of absolution that you were definitely forming a rebound crush on him. But you couldn’t let yourself. Of course, if you did, you were bound to hurt Iwaizumi and your friendship with Oikawa. You had to stop yourself before it was too late.

Oikawa’s eyes fall onto you, noticing your ogling. You seem to illuminate with this glow he hasn’t seen all day and for a split second, he is fueled with irritation at the sight. But catches his outward anger and pushes it down, gaining composure. 

------

Keeping up with Oikawa for most of the night was a bad idea. Certainly, it didn’t occur to you until you stumble into the bathroom all by yourself, realizing you were most definitely unable to stand straight without help. 

Check yourself out in the mirror, you pull out your phone to take a raunchy selfie. You smirk at yourself checking the photo before posting it to your social media story.

That will show him, you think, hopeful Ushijima will see the image you’ve posted. He’s not the only one who can have fun.

Before even pressing “post” you get a text from Oikawa asking where you are. You giggle as you type come find me and press send with the intention of finding him first.

As you leave the bathroom, you begin to scan the crowd for Oikawa or Iwaizumi trying to recollect where you last saw them. The crowds of people in the vicinity make it practically impossible and the further you walk into the nightclub, the louder the music gets, the brighter the lights are, the warmer your body feels. 

All you wanted to do was get out.

Stepping outside, there’s this instant relief from the crisp evening air although it doesn’t last long, and soon a violent shiver courses through you. Turning around to go back inside the bouncer stops you then points to what seems like an endless line of people. 

“B-but, I-I just need to get my jacket,” you stammer.

“Sorry, ma’am. You’re going to have to wait in line,” he booms.

Your outward calmness cracks, too anxious to even think up an excuse. You needed to find Oikawa or Iwaizumi and you need to find them now! 

You turn your attention back to your phone as you begin to type out a text to come meet you outside the club.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” a raspy voice calls out.

You look up and see a rough-looking guy in line making intense eye contact with you. Normally you don’t judge, but your drunk bordering wasted self notes this man was very sketchy and it’s best to avoid him. So you turn your back to him and call Oikawa instead.

“Hey don’t ignore me,” he yells.

You start walking in the opposite direction from the line as far away from the stranger as possible. You’re a bit worried he can still see you and slip into an alley beside the nightclub, the phone still ringing on the other end. 

“Pick up. Pick up. Pick up!!” You mutter into the receiver. Oikawa doesn’t, so you try again.

“I don’t like being ignored, sweet cheeks.” The same raspy voice makes you jump as you turn around to see the scraggly man backlit by fluorescent streetlights, only making his appearance more menacing. 

The call goes to Oikawa’s voicemail again.

“Guess your friend ditched ya,” he continued walking closer to you. The statement sobers you up as his aura escalates to a more threatening demeanor. 

“They said they’ll just be out,” you squeal.

“Yeah?” The stranger keeps shortening the distance every step. “Why don’t you come with me?”

He’s so close now that you can smell his disgusting breath and you start to panic. “I-I can’t, I’m waiting for someone, th-thank you though.”

Why the fuck did you say thank you? Your brain screams at you.

“Oh come on sweet cheeks,” he coaxes, reaching out to clasp on to your wrist. “I’ll show you a good time.”

Your body freezes at his touch. It stings as a sharp pain from his grip makes you want to scream or cry, but the shock was melting your ability to. You felt so useless and timid in times of distress. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t escape searing clutches of--

“What do you think you’re doing?” A deep voice thunders.

The stranger turns to see the culprit and you slowly glance to see Iwaizumi with an intimidating aura protruding from him. 

“Just having a nice talk,” the stranger purrs, tightening his grip more and you let out a little yelp.

“Is that what this is? She looks pretty scared to me,” Iwaizumi retorts.

“This’ none of your business kid,” the stranger rages.

“Actually it is,” he demands stepping closer. “Let go of her.”

A vein on Iwaizumi’s neck pops out as his hands start to ball into fists. Now the stranger is intensely regretting his choice and you can sense it from the fact he’s visibly shaking. You are nearly on the verge of tears from the pain in your wrist and wonder if he was going to break it.

“Let go,” Iwaizumi orders again.

And this time he does, the man, nothing but a weak buffoon, frees your wrist and walks off in a trudge.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi walks over to you to take a look at your wrist. 

You nod, letting out a deep exhale trying to hide how petrified you were while holding your wrist.

“Does it hurt,” he asks, gently applying pressure to it. “Let me take a look.”

Initially, you flinch at his touch, afraid the searing pain will return, instead, his fingertips lightly trace your wrist while analyzing it thoroughly.

“Let me take you to a hospital to be sure.”

“No, no,” you breathe, locking eyes with him. “I’m fine, just a little sore.

Iwaizumi’s face flickers with a bit of uncertainty but decides not to push it and lets go of your wrist to take out a cigarette.

“Fuck,” you hiss. You felt like an idiot for going off on your own, for drinking this much, for going out at all. “I’m sorry.”

Deeply inhaling the smoke, he turns to you, “For what?”

“For running off by myself, and you totally just saving my ass. It’s just… pathetic,” you exclaim, reverting eye contact with him-- you’re slightly embarrassed and his silence is only telling, considering you barely know each other. “I swear to god, I’m not normally like this.” 

“It’s not pathetic,” he states, shrugging his shoulders. “Oikawa says you’re dealing with shit.”

Your reaction isn’t short of an embarrassment. His words hurt you as the scenario of Oikawa telling Iwaizumi about your break-up fills your mind. You scoff. “I’m fine!”

“You’re a horrible liar.” Iwaizumi didn’t have a problem calling you out as you stared at him after a few moments of silence. 

“So what am I supposed to tell him?” you mutter, this surge of anger sweeps over you, you feel this swell of rage boiling inside. “That it’s ok to see my ex, not even a day broken-up with a new girl? It’s fucking bullshit!”

He turns to look at you and blinks at your reaction. The sudden unexpected word vomit makes you pause. 

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” you whisper. “It’s just weird, you know, all of it. I didn’t expect to be blindsided like that. It’s just…” You look over to Iwaizumi listening intently to you and feel your face grow hot. “Oh my god, I’m sorry! You never asked.”

It’s awkward and quiet, you’re pretty sure Iwaizumi can feel it too. You’re puzzled with what to say and feel pressured to express a less depressing answer. You didn’t want to drop the mood of the evening. In those moments, it became apparent you needed to sober up.

“Can I have one?” you ask. 

He looks at you with wide eyes, “You smoke?”

You take out your lighter that you have stowed away in your purse flaunting it as evidence of your new bad habit. Iwaizumi tosses you the pack of smokes.

“You’re not going to tell on me, are you?” You’re trying to sound like you’re joking but a hint of worry seeps through and you’re left waiting for a serious response from him.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

[athys-obelia]

summary: the non dysfunctional!imperial family au hcs no one asked for 😳👉👈

character/s: anastacius de alger obelia, claude de alger obelia, athanasia de alger obelia, jennette de alger obelia

here's part 2 :)

let’s set our stage, shall we?

first of all claude n anastacius’ dad is dead coz we don’t like him at all ew

so ana is the emperor, and claude is his heir presumptive (aka he’s got the strongest claim to the throne rn, but this can be changed by the birth of someone who has a stronger one - ie, anastacius’ child who would be the heir apparent) also bc “i know my mom and i gave u lots of childhood trauma that you prlly won’t be recovering from because therapists aren’t a thing here but here’s a crown you might get to make it better”

claude’s in a position where after the birth of ana’s kid/direct descendant, he’s gonna be given a duchy that athy should inherit after him while still retaining the title of prince

but after hearing of diana’s pregnancy, ana tells her and claude he doesn’t really plan on having children and wants to make their future kid his successor

he basically reserves a spot for their child in the directory and rather than announcing anything publically, anastacius names her athanasia after the sex is confirmed

then this mf obviously pulls a clown move and gets penelope pregnant and complicates things, ultimately naming her jennette, finding the name fitting - ‘god is gracious’

and really, what could be more evidence of god’s grace than the child he’s now fathering, when he thought his legacy would be ending with him?

anyways!!!

so since athy and jennette are born near the beginning of ana’s reign, both claude and anastacius are wayyy too busy trying to bring back the empire from the literal brink of bankruptcy and a possible war to really spend time w their kids

it’s alright, though!! lily is hired as athy’s nanny, while jennette gets kiel’s mom as hers

they all still live together, though obviously the main palace is for ana + jennette while claude + athy are in a separate one

this 'separate one’ is ruby palace after ana dismisses the concubines and he definitely 100% did this on purpose, and whenever he’s summoning claude he’s such a shit about it and goes about it the way you’d summon a deadass concubine

on a separate note, it’s surprisingly claude who visits athy first - he’s seen her here and there with lily but hasn’t ever had the chance to spend time w her. but now it’s almost been a year since athy’s birth (or diana’s death), her first birthday is fast approaching, and he is drunk

lily is a reallyyyy light sleeper and enters the nursery upon hearing someone inside

she doesn’t expect to see the prince standing above his daughter’s crib, a strand of her golden hair between his fingers as he just…stares at her

she approaches quietly, curtsying in greeting - he’s too absorbed to notice, and after a few minutes of silence lilian tells him, “babies can get lonely too, your highness.”

he glances at her then, confused. “how?” he really can’t understand how this girl, who can’t even speak yet comprehend something like loneliness

“princess athanasia is very responsive to her surroundings, much more than children her age usually are,” lily says, “and i like to believe children are able to tell when their parents are with them.”

he scoffs - what a foolish thought. still, claude sits by her bedside, and before he can register it, he’s taken over by sleep

the next night, claude makes his way towards the nursery and stiffly asks if athy could sleep beside him for the night - it’s fairly late, but lilian allows it

he’s gone to the main palace too early the next morning for athy to be awake, but she spent about two minutes tops worrying about the strange surroundings, saw the shiny chandelier and fancy bed and decided yes, she doesn’t mind this kidnapping

this becomes somewhat of a regular occurrence soon enough, and sometime that week she wakes up in the middle of the night with her nose pressed into something soft and literally falls off the huge ass bed at the realisation that this something soft is actually her papa’s hair (you just know that hair smells great i mean uh-)

this mans wakes up and peeks at her on the ground, reaches out to grab her from the front of her nightdress (he swears it’s exactly how he’s seen lilian do it) and plops her back onto the bed

she backs up OBVIOUSLY, you don’t just wake up with a random ass man in your bed and just vibe together?? lee jihye is dying but he glares at her for disturbing his sleep and athy pulls her act together in 0.000001 secs as claude pulls her closer and goes back to sleep

as athy grows, claude starts allowing her to visit his office during the day until it becomes a sort of ritual - he’d have tea and milk prepared and she’d come, sitting somewhere completing a puzzle or sum while he works

mans nearly tears down the entire imperial palace the day she doesn’t show up until he finds her in the garden, teaching jettie the 'proper’ way to hold a teacup during tea parties while lilian and roger’s wife, vivian, watch

athy emotionally blackmails asks him to join the tea party, so half an hour later, anastacius finds his brother sitting on the grass with a plastic teacup that athy’s filling with hot water as she lectures him to learn to fix his posture from lily so he can sit like a “proper dignified lady”

so in the beginning, jennette actually ends up spending more time with claude than her dad. though one day, the brothers are in the audience hall when athy runs in with felix running after her telling her not to run (there’s a shit ton of guards surrounding anastacius so felix has orders to be with princess athanasia when claude is with ana)

anastacius is used to this sight, and watches, smirking at his brother’s subtle smile as athy offers him this wonky looking flower crown - claude accepts it wordlessly, and ana wants to slap his ass to sanity, who wouldn’t thank their kid when they do adorable things like this??

but then they hear another voice, and in comes jennette with vivian not too far behind her. now jettie has a much cleaner looking crown in her hand, but she glances at her father’s elaborate and beautiful crown all embedded with gems and glittering and then at the one she’s fashioned out of daisies

she's always thought she was much like her uncle - jennette was so fascinated by the plain daises, they weren’t flashy but caught her eye all the same - while athy was shiny and bold like her dad

but now she’s second guessing her choice, how could she make such a simple crown for her dad, the emperor??

claude sighs from beside anastacius and literally picks off his brother’s crown before tossing it towards a very tired felix

athy urges jennette forward, and with a bright red covering her entire face she offers the crown. jennette glances at her uncle for comfort before muttering, “for papa”

anastacius.exe has crashed

this blushly, embarrassed, and apparently talented at flower crowns kid was his?

long story short he forgets to breathe or react and jettie thinks he hates the crown and hates her and won’t ever like to see her again so she starts getting teary

claude pushes his brother’s head down before athy can be convicted for murder

ana 100% almost faints when her tiny chubby fingers delicately place the crown in place, he’ll never admit it but he closed his eyes and almost hugged her instinctively as she shyly adjusted some of his bangs around the new headpiece, muttering, “papa pretty”

jennette rushes back to her sister, who’s glaring daggers at the emperor

anastacius tries to smile to calm jennette a bit and maybe look nice enough for his niece to not kill him in his sleep

right well kiel becomes the royal playmate for both the princesses - athy has her classes with him since she’s advanced and honestly they’ll be going back forth with infodumps one minute and he’s teaching her to make paper airplanes the next

(she writes notes on the paper airplanes the next time she’s in claude’s office and flies them towards him, stuff like, 'does uncle cius also snore loudly like papa?’ and he gets seriously offended like a pissbaby)

jennette first met kiel when he was visiting his mom - vivian had to leave for a bit and she taught him a bunch of flower names and their meanings in the meantime - he makes sure to research a new flower every time he visits her, and brings her a bouquet of said flowers she always knows them but never says anything coz she doesn’t wanna hurt his feelings and he gets so excited as he tells her about their meanings it’s so cute

speaking of jennette - claude and ana may seem worlds apart but they’re at the same level of emotionally constipated

ana watches his brother and niece interact and he craves that, an unconditional, timeless love that can’t possibly be tainted by ulterior motives or the like, but he just doesn’t know how to approach little jettie

it seems easy enough - she’s a smiley, sweet girl and theoretically would be friendly if he is to approach her

but gods he’s just so ashamed - such a sweet babe grew without either of her parents and he doesn’t have an excuse because holy hell, even claude is close to athy

he’s being served food in his chambers when he asks the maid about jennette, and she tells him how among her first words was 'love’ and the brunette would just stroll the palace pointing at people and declare “love you” and watch their face light up

thats so CUTE OMFG

his jaw is touching the floor when he’s told that his daughter knows the names of every worker within the palaces

at this point he’s honestly questioning whether this child is his at all

he’s absolutely horrified at the realisation that this maid, who doesn’t even work in jennette’s part of the palace, knows more about her than he does - hell, he hadn’t even asked vivian to keep him updated on her growth, what right does he have to stick himself into her life now?

now, the maid quietly suggests starting with something small like inviting jennette to tea and

of course he goes about it the wrong way??

poor jettie thinks she’s being tested by the ruthless emperor on her etiquette and spends the entire day practicing with claude after athy guilted him into it

she’s so nervous in front of her dad that he honestly feels even guiltier, and anastacius hurries to grab her hands in his to calm their tremble as she reaches to serve him tea

she apologises lmao and he’s just so flustered himself that he orders for her to sit down and instructs her through a few deep breaths

as she calms down, ana serves her the tea before asking whether girls her age even drink tea

she says no and you can literally hear the crickets

he slides the cup he’s poured for her over to his side before gesturing towards the deserts (it was claude’s daughter-luring pro tip) on her side

“you look like you read a lot,” ana says, before asking whether she’s been reading anything interesting lately

“i don’t, actually,” she tells him shyly

anastacius laughs at how of all things his hate for books is what she got from him - and only when jennette chuckles does he realise that he said that out loud

he lets her go around her bedtime, feeling rather… energized? he doesn’t know how to explain it, but it’s a good feeling

he’s busy again the next day, but has an aide send her flowers - the same ones she had put in her flower crown for him

yes lucas is still sleeping in the palace, yes athy still finds him

so athy sees the flowers from uncle cius and is enraged, literally walks up to her uncle and demands he leave jennette alone if he’s only gonna break her heart by neglecting her

and so we have fifteen minutes of the emperor of obelia stuttering as he explains himself to this seven year old

smfh his cluelessness reminds her of her own dad and she takes pity on ana’s suffering soul

the next morning, to give him a chance to redeem himself, athy asks all four of them to have breakfast together - they accept the invitation, and despite an awkward start, the meal seems to be going well

peace is not written in this family’s fate however, and this is where the first coughing up blood thing happens

ohhhh the palace staff almost gets massacred that day

athy’s limp body is moved to jennette’s room since it’s the closest - lily bursts into tears at the very sight of her princess, jennette refuses to eat or drink until her sister can, felix hears his heart break, claude is barely holding himself together

ana is livid - who dares poison a member of his family? what has he even done to earn the privilege of calling these girls his family, when he can’t protect them, at the very least?

claude absolutely refuses to leave her room and finishes all his work right outside her door, lest she wake up in pain again

anastacius can’t keep his own anxiety about jennette at bay, insisting she sleep with him as long as claude stays with athanasia - he can tell she’s drained, and she ends up sharing some of her worries late at night. he soothes both her worries and her cries, letting her curl up into him despite it being a rather uncomfortable position

the family is thrown into chaos again once they realise it was never poison, but athy’s own magic that caused this

aka when chibi lucas drops by and voodoos her back to 100%, everyone legit starts worshipping the ground he walks on - he saved their precious princess!!

ana insists on making him athy’s royal playmate after hearing she isn’t fully healed yet

what does this give us? well, a very very early lucas vs kiel

since they’ve both got the title of royal playmate, they constantly argue on whether being the future duke alpheus is a better title than the future royal magician

the girls are always dragged into this - athy always takes kiel’s side to avenge blackie, and jennette likes kiel too, but the young magician sir saved her sister!!

so.

when vivian passes away due to an illness, it’s like roger is an entirely different person

jennette + kiel + athy all help with the funeral preparations since she was a mother/aunt to them all

felix seems to be paying extra attention to kiel

it isn’t long after this that roger decides to send him to arlanta for his studies, leaving behind two disillusioned princesses

athy spends her time viciously studying to stay ahead of arlanta’s curriculum, while jennette takes an interest in cooking

(athy tries and fails spectacularly; lucas laughs at her and jettie accidentally serves him his favourite food too salty to be edible)

a/n: this would be the first of the two parts, so stay on the lookout, hope y'all enjoyed n have a great day <3

edit: part 2

[saphirered]

Fight For Dessert?

And here it finally is, part two to the last Essek x Eldritch Knight reader request. 

A walk through the streets of Rosohna did you good but Essek was still refusing to let you go anywhere isolated with him without supervision besides his home or the Xhorhaus after the whole ordeal with the Volstruckers. The presence of the Aurora Watch brought him more comfort than it ever had done. Not for himself but the sense of security that you wouldn’t be alone if trouble found you. 

The two of you walk or float perhaps a little bit closer than may be socially acceptable but neither of you seem aware or care enough. A guard of the Aurora Watch rushes over to you a little out of breath and gives a short bow to both you and Essek. 

“What is it?” Essek asks in a tone befitting of the Shadowhand, demeanour changing to a more cold and distant one at the approach of the guard. 

“A message for you Shadowhand. And one for the Knight.” The guard holds out two delicate envelopes stamped with a deep purple seal, names written in beautiful cursive. You take the one addressed to you with a confused look and can see a hint of annoyance from Essek. 

“You may go now.” Essek dismisses the guard who keeps waiting. 

“My apologies, Shadowhand. I was instructed to await your answers.” The guard looks to the envelopes. Essek takes his and opens it as well reading it. His expression does not change. 

‘You have been graciously invited to attend a formal dinner in your honour at the estate of Den Thelyss tonight.’

“Essek?” You give him a glance allowing him to see the invitation. Essek shows you his invitation too. His has and additional note; ‘bring your friend’. You see Essek lift his chin with a deep sigh giving the guard a bit of a glare.

“Please tell my mother-“ Seeing where this is going you cut him off.

“-that we accept her gracious invitation, isn’t that right, Essek.” You would have stepped on his foot to shut him up if he weren’t floating. Essek gives you a surprised look as the guard nods, excuses himself and hurries off. 

“Why would you…” Essek doesn’t finish the question. 

“Because even I know you simply do not refuse an invite from nobility let alone a Denmother, your mother no less.” He can’t deny. You have a point. 

So there you are, dressed in the fanciest clothes gold could buy in such a short period of time, courtesy of Jester and her impeccable taste. The fine silks in hues of purple, dark blues, black and silver made you stand out in the crowd for sure if it weren’t the design itself, like it was made for you. Many garments were tried on. None but this passed Jester’s approval. Luckily for you the outfit wasn’t so heavy or tight you couldn’t even lift your arms, or would feel like you were carrying both Fjord and Caduceus on your back. You had your full range of motion and a perfect fit. 

Essek escorted you to the estate which is every bit as grand and impressive as you expected it to be. You’re a bit on edge and nervous. It’s not every day one gets such an invitation, let alone one by the family your ‘friend’ belongs to. 

“You are calmer ahead of battle than you are attending dinner. I do not think I have ever seen you this on edge.” Essek couldn’t keep his observation to himself. It’s quite a funny one in his eyes. You’d be prepared to walk into a moorbounder nest no hesitation and no fear yet a social gathering is enough to nearly throw you off your feet and have you panic. 

“Don’t laugh! Not all of us have spent our lives making friends with the leaders of nations.” He stops, you with him and turns to you. 

“And yet I doubt that’s what unnerves you so.” He places his hands on your shoulders as you take a deep breath. 

“What if she doesn’t like me? Or if she doesn’t approve your blatant admiration of me?” You manage to lighten the mood with your last question. 

“If my mother didn’t approve of you she would never have invited both of us to dinner. As for my ‘blatant admiration of you’, as you put it, I think it is more than deserved after everything.” Essek looks around seeing no one but the guards in front of the estate and pulls you into his embrace. 

“You’ll do perfectly. My mother will love you just as much as I.” He speaks as you return the hug. Pulling apart he offers his arm and the two of you make your way through the gates. 

“You’re biased.” You whisper as the guards open the doors for the two of you.

“I am. So what?” You scoff at the wizard’s answer as you enter Essek’s childhood home. 

Worked stone, stained glass windows and geometric designs make up the majority of the structure. It’s quite beautiful and comes close to what you expect a private palace might look like. Though, you didn’t expect any less from one of the most prominent and well respected Dens in the Dynasty. Your eyes wander taking in the beautiful art work displayed within the foyer alone. You can’t begin to imagine what the rest of the building looks like. 

Walking down the stairs as the servants take your and Essek’s cloaks, is the Denmother herself in all her glory. You can see the family resemblance and are taken aback by the sheer presence the woman radiates. Sensing you panic as you resist the urge to gulp Essek pats your arm leading you forward. 

You take a deep breath. For the first time you feel like the roles are reversed, Essek being your support and saviour when you’re in need instead of the other way around. He keeps you grounded. You squeeze his arm linked through yours in a quick thank you. 

It’s no different from a battle. Except your sword has been exchanged for your wit and your words are your weapon and shield. The strategy remains. You can do this. You got this. The words echo in your head only to realise Essek whispered them. You nod. You got this. 

Essek and you meet Deirta at the bottom of the stairs. You offer a brief bow in respect, returned with a bow of the head and a smile. 

“Welcome. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person. My son speaks very highly of you. I am Deirta Thelyss.” Deirta takes the lead, you and Essek following into the dining room. 

A large table enough to fit half the court alone, houses only four chairs, one at the head, two on one side and a single one at the other. The table is set for four, plates, cutlery, beautiful glasses and everything. Leaning on one of the chairs is a handsome drow, dressed appropriately for the dinner bearing the vestiges of a Taskhand, or at least so you’ve been told. This drow, while elvish age might be more difficult to pinpoint seems to be a bit younger than Essek and shares similar features. A sibling perhaps? Essek doesn’t really talk about his family much. 

Essek guides you along to the two chairs next to each other, one of which the other man is leaning on. The man raises to a more proper stature and bows to you. 

“My, my, you must be my dear brother’s heroic saviour. Taskhand Verin Thelyss. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Verin pulls out the chair next to the one he was leaning on and offers it to you. You unlink your arm from Essek’s and take a seat thanking the Taskhand. Before Verin can, Essek takes the seat next to you at the right hand of the Denmother. Verin sends him a glare but Essek looks on innocently. Sibling rivalry? You’ll never let him hear the end if this goes on.

“Don’t look so glum, Verin. It doesn’t suit you.” You raise an eyebrow at Essek’s comment as Verin takes the seat opposite of his brother and Deirta takes hers. 

“And pomposity suits you perfectly brother.” Verin raises his glass.

“Children. No bickering at my table. We have a guest.” Deirta smiles at you as servants fill your glasses and uncover the plates set out in front of you to reveal a delicious looking meal. 

“Thank you for joining us tonight. I’m grateful you were able to accept my invitation on such short notice. When my son speaks about your exploits he tends to leave out the mortal danger of it all and I have to learn from others the details of the risk you put yourself at to keep him safe. You have my eternal gratitude.” Deirta places a hand over her heart. 

“You talk about me?” You give Essek a look and can just see the tiniest of blushes creep on his face for just a second as he tries to repress it. 

“Gushes on about you really, singing your praises. ‘Such an intelligence, a fast learner, strong and clever’. It never ends.” Essek glares at Verin as you lean into the arm of your chair giving him an ‘oh really’ look waiting for him to come up with some clever comment or witty remark in return to deflect from the fact he’s not been subtile about his affections towards you around his family. 

“I only shared my conclusions based on the information and evidence provided to me first hand.” 

“I believe that’s what us common folk would call ‘an opinion’, darling.” You laugh amused by the whole situation. You earned a snort from Verin with your comment. Deirta looks between the three of you before turning her attention back to you directly.

“I heard you had gotten rather seriously injured. I hope you’ve recovered well enough?” Deirta asks. 

“I have thanks to my rather talented healer friends. Though if it were not for Essek’s quick response getting them, things may have played out very differently.” You praise the wizard next to you trying to put him a bit more at ease and give him something to return fire if he has to against his brother, letting him know you have his side still. Esseks gives you a thankful smile. 

“So you’re recovered then?” Verin’s expression turns a bit more mischievous and you can see Deirta giving him a scolding look. 

“I am according to my clerics, though I feel they held off on my release from bedrest and confinement to the house for several days. It’s good to be out and about again. I’ve missed it, even though the company has been good I definitely missed being allowed to swing a sword and throw a  proper punch.” Verin’s smile grows. 

“Since you’re good to fight again, how about you show me what you’re made off? How much of my brother’s opinions prove true?” 

“Verin.” Both Essek and Deirta warn each for different reasons.

“Oh come on, I’m merely joking. Unless you’d take me up on the offer of course.” Verin gives you an innocent look you’ve seen so many times on Essek. Plausible deniability apparently runs in the family. 

You lean your elbows on the table, clasping your hands together. Essek mutters an ‘oh no’ under his breath and takes a big gulp from his drink as you grin. 

“You want a fight? I’ll give you a fight.” You wink. 

“Verin need I remind you of your manners. We do not challenge guests to a fight over dinner.” Deirta scolds her son. 

“It’s just a bit of fun, mother.” Verin complains and where he not presenting himself as a renowned official and the person he is, it might have sounded like the plea of a child being told no. 

“I would not wish to overstep any boundaries and forgo all rules of social engagement. Nor do I wish to ruin a perfectly pleasant evening, Denmother. Perhaps another time, Verin?” You earn the Denmother’s approval as she says something to Verin in Undercommon you do not understand but by the tone of her voice alone and Verin’s response you can tell it’s probably not positive. 

Essek sighs deeply next to you pinching the bridge of his nose as Deirta and Verin continue their argument. 

“Oh for the love of… Can you two please cease this useless fight. I’d much rather see Verin being put in his place than listen to this endless argument one more second. Thank you.” The two of them slowly quiet down when Essek speaks up. Verin gets up from his chair.

“It’s settled then, we’re all in agreement.” 

“We are not all in agreement but to cease this argument, very well. You have my permission.” Deirta concedes despite all better efforts.

“If you wish to take my son up on this fight you have my permission.” 

Before you know it you’re outside in what you can assume is Den Thelyss’ private gardens. It’s simple and large enough of an open space to not break anything in the near vicinity should things get ugly. Both of you drop the heavier and unnecessary layers of your outfits. You’re pulled aside by Essek before you walk into the fighting ring. 

“Not that I do not have full confidence you’ll win, but please do not get injured or I fear I might find my next cup of tea poisoned or my books desecrated.” Essek worries taking hold of your hands giving them a brief squeeze. 

“I’ll do my best to protect your precious books and keep any attempts of poisoning at bay. Now please excuse me while I go kick your brother’s ass.” You pat his cheek as you step back and into the makeshift fighting ring. Verin offers you a sword but you don’t take it. 

“I’ve brought my own.” You summon your trusty sword and earn a nod of approval from the drow.

“Nice trick.” The moment you’re ready Verin swings at you but you’ve lived this long thanks to your reflexes and step to the side with ease. You tap the blade of your sword against his to inch it out of your way as you go for a high strike giving Verin enough time to counter block. 

This isn’t a fight to the death and you’re not deliberately trying to seriously injure your opponent so you both hold back but you do get a glimpse of the soldier within Verin and see where he gets his reputation from. It’s earned. The ‘dance’ between you and Verin continues until it gets more competitive and the both of you come to a nonverbal understanding to find out who’s going to be the clear winner here. 

Verin summons his echo letting it come at you while putting some distance between you and him to give him the advantage. You’re quick to respond with a lightning lure. A satisfying grin visible as you pull Verin back within your range. You deflect a blow from the echo while kicking Verin’s wrist preventing his sword from striking you. Bringing your own sword around you cut the echo in half, turning it to wisps of shadow. You strike back with a hit directed at Verin. He dodges and comes around with a hit you use your blade to parry. Another echo comes in play but you pay it no mind having had enough of this back and forth. You grab the blade of Verin’s sword, not nearly tight enough to pierce your skin but just enough to hold it in place, drop your own sword and reach into your component pouch. 

You speak the familiar words and release the gold dust you re-summon your sword back to your hand and point it at Verin’s chest. Verin tries to pull the sword from the air but is unable to move it. 

“Do you concede?” Verin holds up his hands in surrender but you notice a glint in his eye. He quickly moves around the other side of the sword frozen in the air kicking at your leg. You toss your sword to the side, punch once to break his defence and another directly to the chest. Verin’s breath hitches and you kick his legs from under him. He groans, the air is knocked out of him as he lands on his back. You put your foot on his chest standing over him. He grabs it purely by instinct but loosens his grip quickly. 

“Very well. I concede.” Verin speaks out of breath. You remove your foot and offer him a hand pulling him back to his feet. From the stairs you hear a slow clap. Both of you look over to see Deirta standing next to an amused Essek. 

“Impressive. My son’s words have proven true. You have my approval.” The Denmother speaks rather indifferently but offers a smile no less before retreating back inside. 

“Perhaps one day we might fight side by side. I look forward to seeing you around more often.” Verin slaps a hand on your shoulder before he wanders off to clean up. Essek joins you, the two of you left alone in the gardens outside the building. 

“What just happened?” You ask confused about how you just gained the approval and respect of Verin and Deirta Thelyss. 

“They saw exactly why you have my affection.” You bump into Essek’s shoulder in a ‘shut up’ and he offers you a genuine smile. 

“I am that great, aren’t I?” You joke as the two of you begin making your way back inside. You’re still processing unsure of how to take and handle all of this. This was unexpected to say the least.

“And I’ve told you many times. I don’t plan to stop doing so either.” You give him a little side hug as you look around the abandoned remains of dinner being cleared off the table by the servants. 

“Is this how fancy dinners always go?” 

“Certainly not. Though, I can say watching my brother be put in his place certainly has been the highlight of my day, second to you showing off.” You both laugh as you’re ready to head back leaving the Thelyss estate behind you. Perhaps it’ll become a place you’ll visit more often. Though you’ll still always prefer the towers. And feeling some bruises form already, you have some books to protect from the wrath of a doodling tiefling. 

[ghostlypawn]

here’s all my watt AUs from this quiz in case u wanted to read any of the results you didn’t get

cairo x reese: royal au

“royal balls are such a bore, aren’t they?”

Biting. Cold. Sharp. Cairo has no interest in being sold off to some conceited swaggering peacock for her family's benefit. But what happens when her parents withdraw her authority and make the decision for her? Her new marriage might get slightly more complicated when she runs into a vaguely familiar face by the stables...

tags: princess!cairo/stable girl!reese, prince!clark, stable girl!annleigh, background clark/annleigh, childhood friends reunited, arranged marriage, angst, pining, forbidden love

riley x reese: ceo au

“if you want to last a day here i suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

When the former CEO of Williams Inc. died under mysterious circumstances his younger sister Riley takes reign. When rumours fly around the office Reese keeps out of it. One late night at the office is all it takes to change that when she realises there's more to this company than meets the eye and her life is about to get a lot more dangerous...

tags: ceo!riley/employee!reese, slow burn, murder, organised crime ties, hurt/comfort, morally ambiguous characters, kidnapping

mattie x farrah: witch au

“i don’t cast curses, but i might change my mind if you keep testing me.”

The chimes by the doors sang every thirty minutes or so as stragglers came to pick up herbal remedies for whatever illness they had. Like clockwork, Mattie attended to the regulars placing whatever they needed: hollyhock, eucalyptus, sage. It was uncommon to see people in, what Mattie calls, the 'cryptic' secton but she can't help but be intrigued by the young girl she sees inspecting the bat baculum. Eye-contact was made and before Mattie could make her way to the girl the chimes tell her she left. She thinks nothing of it, perhaps she realised she was late for something, and finishes the last ten minutes of her shift. During her final sweep of the apothecary she notices an out-of-place book sat in the cryptic section. An unfamiliar language accompanied by diagrams of flora and fauna fills the pages; she can only make out a few words that she'd seen them around the store. How curious. There was no name but she concluded that it belonged to the girl from earlier. She never returned in the following days so Mattie decided to find the girl herself, however, she's left with more questions than answers.

tags: witch!farrah/mattie, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, violence, angst, minor character death, farrah does not know how to use her powers

farrah x kate: bodyguard au

"i’m not saying i like having you around or anything, but… thanks for not letting me die."

Up-and-coming actor Farrah gets fanmail like any other celebrity but one day she recieves a letter unlike any other. Much to her dismay, a bodyguard is placed by her side whilst she feigns normalcy but as the threats become more dangerous, Kate finds herself becoming more protective.

tags: celebrity!farrah/bodyguard!kate, enemies to lovers, fake friends, violence, hurt/comfort, slow burn, there was only one bed, near death experience

farrah x eva: doctor AU

"is that a copy of twilight? please don't tell me that's your research."

Farrah found herself in the ER so often that she'd befriended most of the staff. A majority of the staff was sick of her taking up a bed after yet another night of drinking. Eva, however, would patiently sit by her waiting for her to regain conciousness so she could take her vitals; she knew more about the girl than she intended after many drunk confessions and would spend every Saturday night waiting for the girl to stumble through the entrance with blood running down her face. What she didn't expect was to see her arrive already unconcious on a gurney getting paler by the minute. Being declared the Farrah-tamer, Eva brought her into a room attending to her as best as she could before she woke. A quick break later and she returned to Farrah sitting up right complaining about the bright lights, as she usually did. When re-checking her vitals she noticed that she had no pulse, no matter when she tried she couldn't find one, it was only when she tried her neck that she noticed two small puncture wounds below her jaw...

tags: doctor!eva/vampire!farrah, friends to lovers, angst, id imagine being a newly turned vampire is angsty and stressful, skeptical eva, in-denial farrah, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, there was only one bed

chess x riley: mutant AU

"i don’t want to hurt you. i’ve never wanted to hurt you. but it’s my job to bring people to justice.”

The world was changed... divided... mutated. Some people began exhibiting supernatural tendencies. Other people became threatened. Chess went into hiding. Riley started hunting. When the mutants start fighting back, what happens when an old acquaintance appears on her dead pool?

tags: hunter!riley/mutant!chess, mutant AU, enemies to lovers, violence, slow burn, nuclear apocalypse, angst, minor character death

annleigh x cairo: pirate AU

"not all treasure is found in silver and gold, mate."

Every night Annleigh would sneak out of the castle to watch the moon dances amongst the waves; she longed to escape from her noble duties to explore the world. When the docks become more crowded Annleigh walks into a girl who might just allow her to do that. Cairo had no reason to bring her aboard but there was something about the pendant that hung against her pale collar that compelled her to... a symbol she almost remembers. Annleigh is soon to find out that she has a deeper connection to the sea than she could ever know.

tags: noble!annleigh/pirate!cairo, strangers to friends to lovers, teasing, mutual pining, pirate violence, kidnapping, tragic past, possible mermaid!annleigh

cairo x kate: lawyer AU

"you know, there is such a thing as being gracious in victory as well as defeat."

There's not a single case that Cairo hasn't won and she's not ashamed to rub it in Kate's face. The tension between them is as just as evident in the courtroom than out of it. When a string of dead bodies appear around town the tension between the two doesn't cease. But what happens when Cairo is taken off the case as soon as her best friend becomes a suspect?

tags: prosecutor!kate/defense attorney!cairo, riley's here too, rivals to lovers, unresolved tension, bickering, murder, emotional hurt/comfort, confiding over alcohol

[pollylynn]

Title: Teardown WC: 800 Episode: The Final Nail (3 x 15)

The murder of Vicky Westlake—the murder of Phillip Westlake—leaves him with a hole right through the center of himself. It’s one the whole world can see, because he’s just spent days running around in here-let-me-show-you fashion.

He has told her his origin story. Oh, not the one she asked him for back in the innocent days of vampires and werewolves and fake baby eggs. That one’s still locked out of the way of any inconvenient holes running through the center of him. He’s told her the story of the first harrowing risk he ever took in showing the world the things that mattered to him, the first inkling that he could make something of his loneliness, his life-long sense of dislocation, and maybe make something of himself in the process.

He has told her more about himself in the last three days in than he has in the last two years. He may have told her more about himself than he has told anyone else in his life. But the record-breaking oversharing, if that’s what it is, has ended up a moot point. He was mistaken. He’s been mistaken for twenty-five years. There’s a hole through the center of him where Damian Westlake’s mentorship—his friendship—used to be, and he’s outed himself.

Without him, I’m not me.

The question of who he is without Damian Westlake is not what preoccupies him in the immediate aftermath. He’s in the sub-basement of that question during that timeframe. He’s wondering how much better off the world would be if he were someone other than this self.

He’s not sure, for example, the world is in dire need of an idiot who hypocritically clamors about objectivity when he’s been clinging to his ludicrous stories and brushing off evidence that seems to contradict them for two years now. It’s also probably filled to its rafters with fools who claim that the very man they’ve been so vociferously defending taught him to dig deeper, then stomp their feet in irritation when the people the world does need actually get off their asses do exactly that.

In the sub-sub-basement there’s the question of how much better off she thinks the world would be if he were someone other than this self. That’s really where the soul searching—or at least the searching of the hole through the center of him where a soul ought to be—begins.

He thinks until the absolute last second that his Michael Rutherford lead will exonerate Damian. He likes the sociopath he based one or two of his earliest villains on for the murder of Phillip Westlake. He’s imagining the exact balance of smug and gracious he’ll strike when next he strides into the precinct, and the truth blows a hole clean through the center of him.

How could she not think the world would be better off if he were not this version of himself?

Self-pity rushes in to fill the hole. He wants to ask her if that’s what she thinks, but really he wants her to reassure him that she doesn’t think that at all—that she thinks the world is an infinitely better place because it has this version of him in it. It’s rank self-pity, and whoever he is now, he won’t allow it.

She’s done her due diligence in showing him who he is—what he is. She has already told him the hardest, kindest truth in the world, as gently as possible and far more gently than he deserves, given his behavior: that the good Damian, the talented Damian, the magnanimous big brother Damian is and always has been a figment of his imagination. She has shown him that and taken no satisfaction whatsoever in the role.

He won’t ask her if the world would be better off with some other version of him, without him in it at all. He won’t cry on her shoulder any more than he already has and wonder endlessly who he is now. It’s an excruciating thing to make his mind up to. It’s a good shoulder, if he can extrapolate out from the one good cry he’s already had on it in the dank confines of an all-but-empty dive bar on Valentine’s Day.

It’s a shoulder he doesn’t feel worthy of, not down here in the sub-sub-basement, so he’ll pull himself out. He’ll look to her and to the boys, to the Captain and Lanie, to his mother and Alexis. He’ll make a study of who it is they see in him—what talents, great and small, each of them bring out in him. He’ll do the work to fill that stupid hole.

He’ll write a better origin story.

A/N: Rodeo clowns have some morphousness. But Castle is not a rodeo clown.

images via homeofthenutty