#and she even uses first person in the files when she breaks character!

[burstfoot]

Just a heads up to people who are writing Ptilopsis/Joyce and want to stick to the way she talks as accurately to canon as possible: Even despite Device #9's effect on her, Joyce can still refer to herself in the first person. She often says "me" or "myself", or uses "I" - she doesn't usually refer to herself as a computer or talk in the third person (i.e., something like "Operator Ptilopsis believes (x)" or "this unit believes (x)"). I wouldn't say she has a super-consistent use of computer terminology that she uses in her regular vocabulary (i.e., you couldn't make a list of phrases that she replaces with specific computer language every single time), it's mostly just unique depending on the circumstance. However, for one effect of Device #9 that is fairly consistent, she usually calls Silence "Silence" or "Dr. Silence" while Device #9 is functioning properly, but calls her "Olivia" when it malfunctions in Dorothy's Vision. However, she DOES refer to herself as "Joyce" in the third person in the flashbacks in the RL Manwha (with the caveat that she's being a little silly here and might purposefully be playing up the computer terminology, which she does fairly often):

Keep in mind that even in the manwha however, she still does use first-person pronouns in the present!

I just thought I'd make this post because I see a lot of people misunderstanding the effect Device #9 has on her way of speaking. As far as I remember and from skimming through all her major appearances, she never calls herself 'this unit' once, even though she does that pretty frequently in fanon. She often refers to her own mental faculties as computer terms and uses computer metaphors a lot, but doesn't usually engage in total depersonalization. Here's an example of her using both first-person language and using computer metaphors at once from her Stories of Afternoon Vignette:

TL;DR When talking, Ptilopsis can use first-person and second-person pronouns, and rarely refers to herself in the third-person. While she often uses computer terminology or computer parts to refer to her actions or mental functions, she usually doesn't refer to herself as a computer (i.e. "this unit").

[estrellami-1]

Falling

(ao3 link)

Dedicated to @madigoround, my one constant Steddie cheerleader. I hope you like it! ❤️

It’s said if you truly want to get to know someone, tell them no. Watch how they act when they’re angry, when they’re sick, when they’re wrecked by grief.

The truth is, Eddie thinks, the way to truly get to know someone is to watch them when they think they’re not being watched.

So, Eddie watches people. He watches Tommy Hagan ascend the ranks of social hierarchy, climbing closer and closer to the top of the totem pole until he reaches the zenith and finds himself stuck with fake friends and a fake life. He’s mean, in the way that Eddie knows someone is mean to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Eddie leaves him alone, ignores him best he can, and hopes Tommy will have the dignity to do the same.

He watches Carol Perkins, faux-model that she is, use her body like a weapon, like a credit card. He knows that she knows that way only heartbreak lies. No one moves to stop her. Eddie knows she’s hurtling towards self-destruction. He knows she’s ignored at home.

He watches Steve Harrington. His ascent to popularity, then in the blink of an eye, his fall. How easily he shrugs off the mantle of King Steve, starts carting around middle schoolers.

How he flinches at loud sounds, abrupt movements, flickering lights.

Steve Harrington intrigues Eddie, is the thing. And Eddie’s never been the type to deny his intrigues. So he studies the fallen king more.

Some things make sense, after spring break. Some things don’t.

Steve has three smiles: the real one, the one everybody thinks is real, and the fake customer service one. He hardly ever uses the first. He’ll use the second a lot. The kids are dipshits, brash in the way only a teenager can be, unaware and uncaring of the effect their words have. Specifically, the effect their words have on Steve.

When they make jokes about his intelligence, Steve will force on a little half-smile, an unaffected air, even as his shoulders slump inward and his chin tips down.

Eddie sees it. He also sees what Steve looks like, eyes wide and wild, grinning and gesturing freely, as he discusses basketball with Lucas or football with Uncle Wayne. Eddie understands the stats he somehow manages to keep track of (even Eddie has notebooks for all his character sheets and all the math everything requires. He’s forgotten, more than once, how he’d done something for a past campaign, and digs through his notebooks until he finds it. But Steve pulls the numbers out of thin air, hardly even pausing as he finds them in his mental filing cabinet, and Eddie is impressed, to say the least). He knows Steve’s smart, even if it’s in a different way than the kids are used to.

He makes a point to mention it. Steve’s over watching the game with Wayne, and Eddie whistles as he listens in to their conversation from the kitchen where he’s making lunch. “That’s some memory,��� he says, shaking his head. “I know I couldn’t keep all that straight.”

Steve blinks at him. “What, like all your D&D people?”

“Characters. You don’t want to see the amount of notebooks I have, trying to keep everything straight, and it still ends up all going to hell when I can’t find something.” He raises a challenging brow, daring Steve to argue.

Steve just laughs and leans back into the couch. “Whatever, man, I still think it’s impressive. I’ve been watching for years, it just kinda makes sense that I’d remember a few facts.”

“A few?” Eddie’s eyes light up. “Wayne, quiz him.”

Wayne snorts. “What’m I, your errand boy?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He grins at the snicker it pulls from Steve. “Please, Wayne?”

Wayne narrows his eyes at Eddie, then softens his gaze when he moves it over to Steve. “You up for it?”

Steve chuckles. “Sure, I guess. It’d be nice to see how much I actually know.”

For the next few minutes, Wayne gives a name and within a few seconds, Steve’s answered with stats about that person.

Eddie, ever the competitive soul, ends up invested, grinning and high-fiving Steve when Wayne runs out of names. “Knew it,” he said, happily noting the blush making its home on Steve’s cheeks.

“Ha,” Eddie jokes later, ribbing Dustin because he can. “Kiddo, that was worse than-” he thinks for a few seconds, then sighs and raises his voice. “Steve? Who was the guy who did the thing you and Wayne were mad about?”

Dustin judges him with his eyebrows. “Even if Steve had any idea what you’re saying, what makes you think he’d know-”

“Phil Simms,” Steve called back from the kitchen. “Great player, actually, just wrong team.”

Eddie hummed, enjoying the shocked look on Dustin’s face. “Nah, not quite doing it. Who’s the losingest team?”

Losingest team, Dustin mouths, mocking. Eddie notes that he doesn’t actually say anything this time, though.

“Depends. Jets started at ten to one, then lost their final five games. But the Giants beat the Redskins 17 to zero. They also beat the 49ers 49—heh—to three, but that was earlier in the season, and no one expected San Francisco to win anyways.” He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on his face. “Does any of that help?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie says, even though he has zero idea what Steve actually said. He’s staring, smug grin firmly affixed to his face, at Dustin.

Lucas, over on the couch, sits up straight and stares at Steve. “Did you see Montana’s comeback?”

Steve grins. “Fuckin’ wild, man, but I kinda hate Walsh for letting him. Like, I’ve been there, right? And that was…” he shakes his head. “Not good. Yeah, it’s been weeks, whatever, but an injury like that?” Steve crosses his arms, shakes his head.

Eddie stares, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, possibly, falling.

When the kids make jokes about Steve’s appearance, he’ll put a hand to the back of his neck and rub, force down the blush, avoid eye contact.

Eddie knows Steve’s not shy. So he doesn’t understand why Steve reacts like that until one day he compliments Steve. It’s a simple little line, you have gold in your hair, but Steve beams. Eddie’s left wondering about the difference, realizes there’s a certain type of compliment Steve’s received all his life, that probably ended up less than welcome at some point.

So Eddie makes it his life’s mission to make Steve beam the way he had the first time.

One time they’re out lounging by the pool while the kids splash around, beers in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Steve tips his head back to take a drink and Eddie realizes something. He leans forward to get a better look. “Your eyes are hazel,” he says delightedly, grinning at the flush rapidly showing on Steve’s cheeks.

Steve looks like he’d very much like to take a page out of Eddie’s book and hide behind his hair in that moment. He hides behind his beer instead, takes another sip as he waits for his face to get back under control. “Are they?” He asks, like he doesn’t know. He’s such a little shit. Eddie’s obsessed.

Another time, Eddie breaks in (is it breaking in if everyone and their mother knows where Steve puts the spare key?) and starts making breakfast while Steve’s out on a run. He almost swallows his tongue when Steve walks back in, sweaty and flushed, wearing shorts that God Himself must have sculpted just for Steve.

Instead of saying that, Eddie adopts an unaffected face and raises a brow. “Pretty sure there’s a fine for public indecency, sweetheart, and those shorts break about eight of those rules. ‘Course, no one’s gonna say anything when they’re on you.”

Steve laughs, light and happy as he accepts the water Eddie hands him. “And why’s that?”

“Because I think you single-handedly caused every gay crisis on the police force.”

Steve laughs hard enough he snorts, and Eddie’s immediately hellbent on hearing that sound again. “That so?” He asks, then pauses. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”

Eddie shrugs, like it should be obvious. “Making breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”

“And you couldn’t make them at your place?”

Eddie just shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Steve badly hides his grin as he shakes his head and turns around, citing a need for a shower as he heads upstairs. “Don’t burn the house down!”

“Betrayal!” Eddie yells back, grinning when Steve cackles again.

Eddie stares as Steve walks upstairs, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, probably, falling.

Eddie studies Steve. Studies him and watches him more and more. His mannerisms, his interactions with others. And he realizes something very interesting: Steve’s always the one to reach out.

He tugs Dustin into a teasing headlock, rubs his knuckles over the top of his head. Flings his arm over Lucas’s shoulders, pokes at Mike until he responds, bumps Will’s elbow with his own. Brushes his fingers over Max’s arm, pulls El into a hug. Robin is the only person who consistently pulls Steve into a hug, and even so, most of the time it’s teasing; a quick, sharp thing, jerky movements and practically pushing him away when she’s done.

So Eddie starts. Brushes his hand across Steve’s shoulders as he’s walking by. Poking at Steve’s cheeks to get a reaction. Quick, tight hugs, at first.

Or… that was the plan. The first time he pulls Steve into a hug, they’re alone, because Eddie does not want to have to deal with Dustin and his dramatics in that moment. So Eddie pulls Steve in, arms flung around him and squeezing in a half-joking manner, and Steve practically melts.

“Jesus fuck,” Eddie mutters, stumbling a little. “You good, Stevie?”

Steve pulls back, a blush making its way across his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. It- it won’t happen again.”

Eddie frowns. “How the fuck is that what you got from it?”

Steve shrugs. “I know I can be… well, Nancy called it clingy, and I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past who called it clingy, and if it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, then…”

“Shit, Steve, no, that’s not- what the fuck were your girlfriends on? Why would they call that clingy? That’s not- Christ, Steve, if that’s clingy, sign me up. Seriously. Just warn me next time, we don’t all have the body of a Greek god, we can’t all carry our somewhat-acquaintances out of hell.” He grins at Steve, a half-thing that grows when Steve tentatively grins back.

“Body of a Greek god?”

“Oh, don’t go fishing for compliments, I know you, you’re not that shallow.” He rolls his eyes, smiles. Tentatively places his hands on Steve’s arms, just above his wrists. “You hear of something called touch-starved?”

Steve cautiously looks him in the eye. “I can guess,” he finally says, and Eddie pulls him into another hug.

This one lasts for something close to a minute, and Eddie ignores it when Steve takes a step back and molds his face back into shape. “Anytime,” he says quietly, like a promise. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve agrees.

It happens again a week later.

Everyone’s over for Hellfire. Steve was in the kitchen, had been there practically since everyone had trickled in.

There’s a quiet clatter, an even quieter shit, then a pause before Steve heaves a sigh. “Eddie?”

Eddie furrows his brows in concern, motions for everyone to stay where they are, then makes his way into the kitchen, seeing Steve gripping the edge of the sink. “Steve?”

“I’ve been having a shit day,” he starts. “If… if you meant what you said. Last time?”

“Anytime,” Eddie swears. “Hey, Stevie, c’mon, the sink’s not going anywhere, let’s let go, yeah? Wanna stay down here or go upstairs?”

Steve makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Your game-”

“Will be there later,” Eddie finishes. “Here or upstairs?” Steve shakes his head, a sharp movement, and Eddie recognizes it. “Want me to pick?”

“Please.”

“Upstairs. Can you do it yourself?”

Steve makes another guttural noise, pulls away from the sink, and marches upstairs.

Eddie follows. All the way upstairs, into Steve’s room, pausing to close and lock the door. “We’re safe,” he says quietly, and opens his arms. “Stevie?”

Steve trembles as he allows himself to be hugged, hands fisting in the back of Eddie’s shirt, head guided to the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.

Eddie pets a solid hand down Steve’s back, squeezing at his waist for a moment before bringing it up again, just below his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay, we’re all safe. What’re you seeing, Stevie?”

Steve takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” he admits. “Kinda fucked me over.”

Eddie’s heart clenches. “I’m here,” he promises, and guides them onto the bed. “D’you want to be on top or bottom?”

He feels Steve’s brows scrunch against his shoulder. “What?”

“Some people need the pressure of someone on them. It’s grounding. For some, it’s too much.”

“Oh,” Steve mutters. “You on top.”

Eddie bites his tongue on the joke that wants to come out. “M’kay, c’mon, then, still not the one with the body of a Greek god.”

He feels Steve’s tentative smile as they roll over, a breath huffed into his chest. “Always liked Apollo.”

“God of the sun,” Eddie agrees. “Suits you.” He gets his arms out from under Steve, puts them on his shoulders. “This work?”

Steve hums. His eyes are shut. “Didn’t wanna take you from your game. Sorry.”

“And I told you it’ll be there later. If you need something, I want to help you get it. Simple as that.”

Steve sighs, tips his head to the side. His chin brushes the back of Eddie’s hand, and he does it again. “This works.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, watching Steve brush his chin over the back of his hand. “If there’s something you want, I need you to ask for it. I can’t read your mind.” Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes open, and Eddie clicks his tongue. “Close your eyes.” They drop shut again, and he nudges the back of his hand a little harder against Steve’s chin. “What do you want?”

Steve sighs again, gathering courage. “Want you to play with my hair.”

Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He brushes his hand up, traces the line of Steve’s silhouette, up his chin, his nose, around his eye. Drags the backs of his fingers across his forehead, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Nothing. Steve relaxes back into the pillows.

Eddie gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs gently, releasing to scrape his fingertips over Steve’s scalp. Revels in the hum Steve lets out. “Sunshine boy,” he murmurs. “Who takes care of you?”

“Sunshine boy?”

Eddie smiles softly, even though Steve’s eyes are still closed. “Gold hair, gold eyes. My own personal Apollo.”

Steve smiles. “You’re Dionysus.”

“Mm. God of drunken joy and madness.”

“And theater.”

“Oh, yes, how could I ever forget one of the billion things one of the billion gods was known for.”

Steve snorts. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hands brushing Eddie’s waist. “I shouldn’t need this. Any of it.”

Eddie cards his hand through Steve’s hair again. “But you do.”

“But I do,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “And you just… you’re selfless.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

Steve snorts. “You’re full of shit.”

“Yup. Selfless and full of shit. Sounds about right.”

“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, cracking open an eye to look at him. They both still, caught in each other’s gaze, realizing just how close they are to each other.

Slowly, so slowly, Steve looks away. “Go back to your game,” he whispers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay,” Eddie responds at the same volume, and slowly gets up. He lifts his hand off the doorknob when Steve calls his name. “Yeah?”

“Stay? After?”

“Sunshine boy,” he says again, just to get that smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’ll stay after.”

After comes sooner than either of them expect, but Dustin got sloppy, and what’s the point of one-shots if not to throw them to the wind when it all goes to shit, so there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and thoughtless decisions and uncaring dice rolls before it ends and everyone’s packing up.

Dustin’s mom comes to pick up everyone who didn’t drive there, because she’s an angel of a woman, and Eddie makes excuses for why he’s staying until finally he doesn’t have to, it’s just him and Steve, and Steve’s looking at him with the softest smile and something that looks like adoration shining in his eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to start, then shuts it with a shake of his head. “C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”

Eddie sits first, and Steve stands, hands wringing one another, until Eddie leans forward, grabs them, and gently guides him to sit next to Eddie. “There.” He holds one of Steve’s hands in his. “Do you want to start, or should I?”

Steve worries his lip. “Do we need to talk about it? If we both know what we’re saying?”

Eddie grins. “So if I were to start talking about buying little party hats for raccoons…”

Steve snorts. “Okay, you ass, point taken.” His smile falls. “You’ve been… really nice to me, these past few months. And that’s not why, not at all, but it doesn’t exactly hurt either. I just…” he shakes his head. “Why me?”

“Why you what? Why am I nice to you? Why have I been taking care of you? Why-” the question sticks in his throat for half a second. “Why do I like you?”

Steve smiles, bashful, and looks down at their intertwined hands. “All of the above, basically.”

Eddie taps the back of Steve’s hand thoughtfully. They both watch the movement. “Because you’re worth it,” he says simply. “Because no one else does it. No one else sees what you do for them. No one else cares. I do. I don’t think I was given a choice, honestly, you looked at me and I was fuckin’ gone. And I’m gonna keep doing this until you believe me. Until you believe that you deserve to take up space, to exist, to have wants and opinions and preferences.”

“It might take a while.”

“I’ll be right here.”

“I might never fully believe it.”

“I’ll be here forever.” He pulls their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s.

“It sounds like a lot of boring work.” His voice is high, thready. There are tears in his eyes that fall when he blinks.

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

Watery eyes narrow at him. “Did you just quote a fucking Greek tragedy at me?”

“Uh. Maybe?”

Steve snorts, shakes his head, and leans in to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s old news, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, feels his heart skip a beat when Steve responds by nuzzling his throat. “Is that it, then? We’re done talking?”

Steve sighs and tilts his head up so they can look at each other. “I like you too,” he says quietly. “Just… for the record. And I want this. And…” he bites his lip, then just as quickly releases it. “I wanna kiss you. Um. If that’s alright.”

“Sunshine boy,” Eddie murmurs. “Of course that’s alright. Get up here.” He pulls as Steve pushes up, meaning Steve overbalances and sprawls across Eddie’s lap. They stare, wide-eyed, at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.

“Okay?” Eddie checks, even as Steve rights himself and scrambles the rest of the way onto Eddie’s lap, grinning as he plays with the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.

“Perfect.” His grin grows and a tiny little giggle slips out, like he’s so happy his body just can’t contain it all anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

It’s less a warning, more an explanation for why he’s so happy, and it has Eddie’s heart full to bursting in his chest as he slips his hands just under the hem of Steve’s shirt to rest them directly on his waist. “You are,” he agrees. He almost jokes—not if I kiss you first—but knows Steve needs this. “Take your time,” he says instead, even though he feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. His hands are steady, though, as are his eyes when he looks into Steve’s.

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” He’s whispering now, so Eddie drops his voice to match.

“It’s a big thing. You’re allowed to be nervous. Is there any way I could help?”

Steve scrunches his nose up, then moves to rest their foreheads together. “Um. Close your eyes? Maybe?”

Eddie’s eyes immediately shut. “Take your time,” he promises. “Or we can wait. There’s no shame. I won’t be upset.”

“Yeah, but I will,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles.

“There’s a movie,” he starts. “An old silent film that Wayne likes. I watched it with him because he said something about vamp, so of course my mind went to vampire. It wasn’t, to my dismay, but there’s a line. A seductress bewitches men by getting them to kiss her. One man’s about to kill her, like gun-to-the-head about to kill her, and she says kiss me, my fool.”

He can practically feel Steve’s grin. He can definitely hear it. “Which one am I?”

“Oh, definitely the seductress, have you seen yourself, sunshine? I’m the fool in this scenario. Or any scenario, really.”

Steve hums. “Dionysus.”

“Shut up.” He’s laughing, though, grinning at Steve’s giggle, then freezes when Steve’s lips land on the corner of his. “Oh,” he whispers when Steve pulls away.

Steve laughs softly, puts a thumb at the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. “You can open your eyes.” He’s whispering again, and Eddie looks to see Steve staring at him, a small, wondering smile on his lips.

“Heya, sunshine,” he whispers, almost choking on the amount of emotions he feels.

“Hi.” He pauses, fidgets. “Can I kiss you for real?”

“Yeah. You want me to close my eyes?”

Steve shakes his head. “Just… kiss back.”

Eddie grins, wide and in love. “I was planning on it.”

Steve grins back, just as wide and just as happy. “Shut up.”

“And if I said make me…”

Steve giggles. “I might just have to,” he says before finally leaning in, slotting their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss.

He tastes like the pizza they’d been eating and the beer they’d been drinking, and underneath that is something so Steve, and Eddie wants to spend the rest of forever discovering that taste. When they pull apart, his eyes open—when had he closed them?—and land on Steve, who’s also in the process of opening his eyes. “Wow,” he murmurs, and Steve giggles as he rests their foreheads together again.

“Just about.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Steve whispers, so Eddie wastes no time in sealing their lips together again. It’s still soft and slow and sweet, and Eddie focuses on making Steve relax against him. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair, squeezes a little at the nape of his neck, runs it down his back, down his side, to knead at his hips. In response, Steve hums into the kiss, shifting a little to let more of his weight rest on Eddie’s lap. Eddie does it again and again, thrilled at the feeling of Steve finally relaxing fully onto him. They both pull away, lips wine-dark and tender, and Steve smiles, eyes still closed, as Eddie runs his hand through his hair one more time. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the trust in his voice.

“Maybe that’s my plan,” he answers. “I seduced you just to get you to take better care of yourself.”

Steve’s smile widens. “That’s the only reason?”

“Obviously,” Eddie teases. “Well, that and the fact that I’m ridiculously into you, but that seems like a separate thing.”

“Right,” Steve agrees, giggling. He opens his eyes and presses a quick peck to Eddie’s nose. “I’m kinda ridiculously into you, too.”

“Well,” Eddie says, because out of everything, of course this would be what takes his words away. “Good.”

“Good,” Steve agrees, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie leans back into the couch, adjusting his hold on Steve so he’s as comfortable as possible. “G’night,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over Steve’s temple.

He can feel Steve’s lips lift into a smile. “Night, Eds.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s neck, and Eddie smiles as he tilts his head back into the couch.

He stares up at the ceiling, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, definitely, falling.

[pluto-supremacy]

YOUR VI JAIL FIC WAS SO GOOD AND THE HEADCANONS WERE SO SO ACCURATE. :'( IF POSSIBLE, CAN YOU MAKE A P2 TO HOW THEIR LIFE IS OUTSIDE OF PRISON WHEN THEY MAKE IT OUT? or an angst with caitlyn being blackmailed by the warden to only let one prisoner out? :3 said one being vi, and vi having to abandon reader?

Vi Fic: Bye Bye Bun

➼ Aaaah thank you so much! I'm so glad so many people liked the Stillwater headcanons^^ I was afraid my Vi was going to be soooo out of character. I decided to write some angst first >:) if this fic does well or I get another ask I'll also work on life after Stillwater, give you guys some fluff after this

➼ Continuation of Vi Headcanons: dating f!reader at Stillwater

➼ No beta we die like Claggor (I'm running out of people who die in the series-)

➼ Warnings: None! Bit of a longer fic for you guys today, enjoy!

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

The sound of knuckles meeting hard concrete echoed throughout the cell block, small grunts following close behind. "You know we don't get clean bandages for another two weeks Vi, your knuckles are going to get infected at this rate." you called out. Suddenly the pounding stopped and a small chuckle was heard. "Don't worry about me bun, just trying to blow off some steam," she said, pacing around her cell instead of beating up a wall. "You should really get some sleep. Long day tomorrow"

"No such thing as a short day here." you groaned. Carefully you laid down on the ground of the cell. Vi's was only a few doors down, close enough to talk just above a whisper but way too far away to see each other. Both of you always slept against the walls that faced each other. It was the closest thing to sleeping next to each other in this shithole. Aside from whenever you two napped during free time of course. Even then Vi stayed wide awake to ensure you were okay.

"Goodnight Vi, wake me up if anything happens, okay?" "I will Y/N, I promise"

That was nearly two hours ago. You were sound asleep by now, the cold, hard floor no longer keeping you up. It was something every prisoner in Stillwater had to get used to. Mattresses weren't provided. The few that did get a thin mat to sleep on at night only got one after a lot of medical visits and several notes stating they needed one for medical reasons. You and Vi weren't so lucky to have any notes. Still, there were worse things here. Like the food. That's why any food or snacks that were smuggled in were high value items. Currently you had a packet of chips hidden under a loose brick right where you slept. You scored them a few days ago and wanted to surprise Vi by sharing them tomorrow.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened, the clack of heels filling the halls. Caitlyn stopped in front of Vi's sell, her hood still up. "What the hell do you want?" Vi asked, glancing over at the taller woman. "Your help. You beat up an inmate, I needed to question him about a crime scene from yesterday. Why did you break his jaw?" "Because I wanted to." She responded with a small shrug, disinterested in whoever this enforcer was. "Why are you in here?" Caitlyn tried again, looking over the file in her hands. "For my sunny personality." Vi shot back immediately.

Caitlyn shook her head, sighing. "This was a waste of time." she closed the file and her journal, starting to walk off. Maybe she could find away around a broken jaw, pen and paper perhaps. "Couldn't have said it better myself. Give Silco a kiss for me on that winning eye of his." that was what caught the enforcer's attention. Turning around she walked back to Vi's cell, getting a bit closer to the bars. "Silco? The industrialist?" "Hardly what I'd call an industrialist." She scoffed, leaning against the bars. That's when the other woman held up something that caught her eye.

In Caitlyn's journal was a picture of a spray-painted monkey. Just like the ones Powder used to make. "Where did you get this?" Vi asked, desperation creeping into her voice. "My question first. The inmate worked for Silco?" "Everyone in here does. You of all people should know that. Now where did you find that?" "It was at the crime scene, this is evidence" Caitlyn responded. She had the upper hand here now. "If I'm to believe you about Silco, I'm going to need proof."

A way out. Vi could get both of you out of here. "I can provide you proof. Just, not from in here" she gestured to the bars around her. "And," she began to add on "I need another inmate. Inmate 381. I'm not leaving without her." Caitlyn seemed to consider this for a moment. Then she turn and left without a word. What that meant, Vi had no clue.

Caitlyn had ran off back to the warden, forging papers along the way for the release of two inmates. She needed Vi's help to track whoever this person was down, so if someone else had to come along, so be it. As she put the papers down on the warden's desk, he seemed to lazily look over them. "I have orders to release inmates 381 and 516." she spoke up. He hummed in thought before shaking his head. "I can only release one." "What? It says right there-" "I can read. But I'm only releasing one. Pick." "..inmate 516."

So when Caitlyn returned and opened Vi's cell, she immediately ran to your cell. Or at least tried to. The enforcer stopped her a few steps in. "The warden only let me release one of you. You understand that-" "No I don't! This wasn't part of the deal!" Vi went to grab the collar of Caitlyn's dress, the other wrapping her hands around Vi's wrists as she was pressed against the wall. "You will-" "If you try anything I will make sure you're put back behind bars and you never see that other inmate again." Cait rushed out. It wasn't what she wanted to resort to, threats, but it seemed to work.

Almost instantly Vi's grip loosened, slowly setting Caitlyn back down on the ground. Leaving you...

"Once we're done, you let her out. Immediately. No excuses, exceptions, or delays. And I get to say goodbye." Vi demanded. That was fair, anyone could agree to that. Thankfully Caitlyn began nodding, dusting her dress off. "Go ahead then. Afterwards we need to get going to the Undercity."

This was going to hurt.

Vi walked over to your cell, kneeling down at the bars. You were still all curled up, dead asleep. She gently knocked on the bars. "Bun..bun you gotta wake up." That was odd. Vi's voice sounded so close...as you opened up your eyes you saw your girlfriend just on the other side of the bars. There was no quicker way to wake up than seeing your lover free from her cell. "Vi! You escaped! How-" you were cut off by seeing Caitlyn standing behind Vi.

"Who is that?" "Y/N, I can explain." "Vi, who is that!" you were shouting now. You didn't even fully realize it. "She's the one that got me out-" "So now you're going to get me out?" you interrupted. Seeing the pain flash on Vi's face told you everything that you needed to know. "You're leaving me.." your voice was barely audible, but Vi caught every word. She could feel her heart shattering as she saw the tears form in your eyes. "It's only for a little bit. The warden wouldn't let us both out, once I'm done helping Caitlyn we're coming right back for you, I promise."

You wanted to believe her. Vi had never lied to you before, why would she start now? Maybe it was the fear of never seeing her again. Or maybe it had to do with the enforcer standing behind her. Caitlyn was beautiful, you had to admit, so what if...

"No, no this isn't right. Vi you can't leave me here!" you shouted, crawling up to the bars and reaching out to grab Vi's wrist. "Vi you can't leave me! Please don't leave me!" the tears finally began rolling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. Vi's own eyes were starting to gloss over with tears. "I'm coming back for you, Y/N. I swear on my life I'm not leaving you. It'll be a few days tops." "What does she," you nodded your head towards Caitlyn "even need help with, huh? What are you going to do for her?"

That cut deep. Vi tried not to take it to heart as she stood up, pressing one last kiss to the back of your hand. "I'm coming back for you." she repeated, steeling herself to actually leave. To not fall to her knees and tell Caitlyn to find someone else. This was your guy's chance of freedom. Even if this hurt you now, it was better in the long run. Everything would be better when you two could be together outside of Stillwater. "Bye bye, bun. I'll be back for you" and with that she turned around and started walking away. Vi knew if she turned around to look at you one last time, she'd never leave.

That's when the shouting started.

"Vi! Vi turn around right now! You can't leave me here!" you were standing up now, having an iron grip on the bars. Almost trying to bend them out of the way so you could run to Vi. Unfortunately you weren't that strong and the bars weren't that weak. "Violet don't leave me!"

Vi quickened her pace, rushing towards the elevator. Your voice was starting to blend with Powder's the day they were separated. It was all too much. She was going to find Powder and come back for you. Everything would be okay, everything would be right. As the elevator doors closed, she heard one last thing. Yours and Powder's voice were nearly indistinguishable from one another as you yelled out:

"TRAITOR!"

[vagabond-umlaut]

gray cashmere

Solitude makes many a tough decision too easy to make.

However, is one truly ever 'one'? Or are they 'one' from a collection of many such 'one's' — guaranteed to be affected by the actions of one another?

Strictly isolated systems are mere hypotheses, anyways.

[Alternatively: Amanai Riko's life overlaps with that of three young students from Tokyo Jujutsu High for only fifty-five hours, yet the effects they leave on her and the effects she leaves on them– they can be felt even after a period of one-hundred-and-fifty-five months.]

▸ student! gojo satoru x student! fem! reader; 4400 words of me trying my best to forget the horror of the 'Hidden Inventory Arc' by writing THE CANON-DIVERGENT FIC I DESPERATELY NEEDED TO FUNCTION ATP; riko is the little sister yours truly the reader never had; kuroi is the gentle sunshine on a winter afternoon; THE sweet romance between satoru & reader; suguru is the most awesome best friend and/or brother figure ever; FUSHIGURO TOJI IS HIS OWN WARNING; Hidden Inventory Arc Spoilers with Canon-Level Violence; Angst with a Happy Ending.

▸ notes: The reader's CT was to read others' thoughts freely without them knowing, but after a binding vow she undertook when young [disgusted with the way the old geezers governing the jujutsu society misused it for their personal gains], she lost it, gaining the ability to instantaneously kill an entity the moment she opts to read their mind in place. Not even a special-grade can stop her attack. Aniki = older brother in Japanese.

▸ belongs to series we're the summer to our winter rain but you can read this as a stand-alone if you wanna!

▸ the gif, divider and characters used ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

DAY 1; 11:44

Yours is a beautiful, awful life when it's the one chosen for the sake of all.

Everyone everywhere will remain smiling, crying, speaking, yelling, moving – living, if put in a word– yet you'll be nothing more than a name and, if lucky, a fading face filed away in a mind. Yet, yet, yet– everyone everywhere will remain smiling, crying, speaking, yelling, moving— and one young Amanai Riko thinks that's what makes her fate so bearable.

Too bad one of her three bodyguards doesn't think along such lines.

"She's too young to die. Why is she even agreeing to this merger?"

Your quiet voice breaks Riko's scuttling from one room to another, in search of the things she needs for school.

Craning her neck, she peeks into the room, only to find you standing by the windows, holding a cup of tea delicately as you look intently at your companions. Geto's shoulders rise and fall in a short sigh. Gojo gets up from his slouch on the couch to drape an arm round you.

The girl thinks it's the softest she has seen the goggles-wearing boy appear in the time you all have been here.

(Honestly, this is the first time she is seeing Gojo act so careful and you, so disquietened, in the three hours the three of you have been here—

A jarring contrast to the way the boy introduced you as 'the coolest and hottest jujutsu sorcerer ever' who also happens to be his 'better half' while you greeted them with a beam (which did not reach your eyes) and turned away, focus switching to your beeping mobile.)

(Geto looked like an old grandpa then, when he whispered to Kuroi, a wide smile on his face as he looked at you, how difficult it was for the two of you to get together as a couple – and how happy and relieved he and your other friends are now, watching the two of you be so very in love with each other. Kuroi let out only a tiny quiet sigh with a small gentle smile at his words.)

Your boyfriend's voice pulls her away from her mind.

"You heard the brat, didn't you? She is Tengen-sama; Tengen-sama is her. So she isn't really going to die; she's going to live forever and ever and eve–"

"I thought I was the one who couldn't read between lines well in this relationship, 'Toru," you interrupt him, frowning. Riko finds it too hard to stifle the giggle that threatens to follow – albeit, the threat doesn't stay strong for long, vanishing away at your next words. Thrown into the room, a mix of visible anger and despair.

"The kid was obviously spouting all that nonsense, more as a means to convince herself than to convince us," you say; the young student considers bursting into the room, exclaiming she ain't a little kid, yet a voice in her urges her to stay put outside the door. Begrudgingly, she listens to it. You continue, tone the same as before.

"There's some part in Riko-chan which doesn't really want to merge with Master Tengen, but a burden once dumped on one's shoulders has to be carried, and Riko-chan has no option left but to choke that wily voice in her head until it quietens forever."

Gojo's eyes drift over to the door once. A bit startled and a lot scared, Riko shrinks into herself, yet budges not an inch from her spot. Focus returning to your puckered features, the junior high schooler watches him croon softly into your ears, "Babe, how about we discuss–"

"I don't think there'll be a later, Satoru," you say, then exhale air out in a burst of clear frustration, "And I seriously cannot understand how in this world you and Geto senpai can be so relaxed about this? Y'all are answering Yaga's calls as if Riko's an important but lifeless mail, while we three are some FedEx employees and not three sorcerers leading a girl a few years younger than us to her death, grinning and singing."

The cup in your grasp looks dangerously close to shattering; not to mention the way your cursed energy swells and swells until it comes too close to suffocating the hell out of her — it ebbs away faster than it came.

Face morphing into an easy smile, the girl watches you slip out from under your boyfriend's arm and walk over to her. She wishes the grin she shoots back is half as bright as she hopes it is.

"Hey, Riko-chan," you greet, voice shifting into a soothing melody, "Ready to go to school? Geto senpai's already called the driver. He must be waiting downstairs."

"Oh, I see," Riko responds, a bit lost as her gaze rakes over your face, then darts over to the two still in the room. The weird-bangs-sorcerer offers a small smile while he cuts an apple into slices. The other boy's eyes remain trained on the back of your head, upbeat nature nowhere to be seen.

She looks back at you. Kuroi asks her to hurry via a frantic yell of her name. The girl sighs and slowly moves into the direct line of sight of everyone.

"Have any of you seen a thin blue notebook anywhere? I can't find my music no– OH MY GOD, ONEE-CHAN!!! YOUR STUPID AS HECK BOYFRIEND DID NOT JUST MAKE PAPER PLANES OUT OF MY NOTES, DID HE!?!?"

———

DAY 2; 19:55

"Satoru is not really bad, y'know?"

Your comment arrives few hours and many adventures later – though Riko wonders how much of an adventure they were for you or the two upperclassmen of yours, given the way you three were kicking ass for the entirety of the time, both before and after Kuroi was captured.

Lips curving into a teasing smile – one which the woman, taking care of her since the latter's childhood, shares – the teenager returns her attention to you.

You blink back, a tiny smile playing with the corner of your lips before it widens, digging into your cheeks and crinkling your eyes.

"What?" you ask with a giggle, "Is there something on my face? Or is suggesting my boyfriend to be kind of good really that outlandish of a concept?"

"Hmm, do you want the nice answer or the honest answer?" Riko asks back, plopping a spoonful of the ice cream you bought, then breaking into a shiver as her brain freezes from how insanely cold it is. Neither you nor Kuroi bothering to hide your chuckles, you hum. "I'm not sure which I will find honest and which, nice; why don't you shoot both my way, Riko-chan?" you suggest then add, mirth gleaming in your voice, "Of course, when you're okay again, only then."

The girl thinks of retorting to you with a silent glare but opts to think better of it. Couple of minutes pass in almost silence, Kuroi and you chit-chatting about Okinawa in general while the three of you amble down the sidewalk lining the inky-black sea, casting eerie shadows in the sparse lights dotting the streets — when she decides to reply to your suggestion from before.

"I don't really think Gojo-san is a bad person," She says, stopping and offering you a smile over her shoulder. You too stop and accept it with a bright smile of your own.

Riko continues, "I mean, yeah, he's very, very annoying all the time – making fun of me and calling me a kid or brat – but if you chose him to be your boyfriend, I guess he's kind of fine. Maybe. Plus, you don't really seem to have a bad taste," she adds with an appreciative once-over at the sundress you're wearing.

You crack an amused grin. Riko turns to her caretaker. "C'mon, Kuroi. Tell onee-chan. She has a pretty nice taste in outfits, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, you do," the other woman is quick to agree with a kind grin, "I suppose Riko-sama is correct in saying this; although, Riko-sama..." trailing off, Kuroi smiles at the addressed girl the way she used to in her childhood, whenever the latter used to babble the stuff children always do, and gently rebukes.

"Having a good taste in outfits is not the best indicator of someone's taste in men. You must never view a person from an angle as shallow as that."

"Kuroi-san is right, Riko-chan," you pitch in your two cents an instant later, then cast the woman beside you a sly glance, "Though I wonder if that was an indirect criticism of 'Toru... I hope it wasn't – was it?"

"No, of course not," Kuroi denies with a small laugh. Riko watches you crack a freer smile at her words, which slowly softens when you move your gaze back to her. The ice cream in her hand seems four seconds away from melting; still the girl decides to ignore it in favour of giving you her undivided attention.

(Ever since she met you three, you've always struck the young girl as someone a bit... different.

From the way you train your focus on your opponents during a fight; to the way you speak, neither too loud nor too quiet, just the perfect loudness and pitch required to snatch everyone's attention and keep them for yourself; to the way you carry yourself, neither as pompous arrogant akin Gojo nor as discreet smug as Geto, but as a girl who is aware of her worth and won't hesitate to show another their place, if the need so arises.

Riko thinks if she lived a little longer, she might have wanted to make you her role model. Not that it matters now, though.)

Your musing voice break through her thoughts.

"Satoru was the one who suggested this trip," you say, sharing a half-smile with Kuroi, "The best option would have been to take you back to the school as soon as possible, where you and Kuroi-san would be safe and sound. Plus, our mission too would have been complete. An extra feather to our cap, given we delivered the Star Plasma Vessel to Tengen-sama and secured the foundations the entire Japan is based on. Yet he argu–"

You abruptly fall silent, the loving look on your face withering to one of helplessness and profound sadness when the ticking hands of the wrist watch you wear catches your eye; and you shove your emotions beneath a forced chuckle.

"Oh no, it's almost eight," you say, a faux buoyancy to your words, "Do you wanna go back to the hotel and have dinner there, Riko? Or some place outside, maybe? Our schedule's packed tomorrow – our littlest Riko-chan needs some good sleep tonight to not be fussy tomorrow, doesn't she?"

Glancing at Kuroi, only to find her with the same tense cheerfulness, Riko stifles a sigh and parts her lips into a mirthful beam she doesn't feel at all.

"I really wanna try the soki soba and the yashigani. Do you know any good restaurants nearby?"

You nod exaggeratedly, lips thinning into a solemn line though the faint ray of fun can still be made through the grey clouds cast over your irises. "Don't you worry, Riko sama. Your two faithful servants will certainly find a place to dine to your liking. You just keep being the cute little princess that you are."

The girl opens her mouth to snap back at being called a little girl yet again – you aren't very different from your boyfriend, after all – then shuts it, then opens it again, a teasing giggle wanting to bubble out.

"Y'know, onee-chan," she says, skipping over to you and smiling in an innocent fashion, "I answered your second question, but I never gave a reply to the first one – you wanna know it?"

You take a second before shrugging. "Um, yeah, why not?"

Throwing a mischievous glance to Kuroi, who hides her mouth with a palm and looks away, shoulders shaking a little, Riko returns her eyes to your expectant smile. And beckoning you to come near, whispers.

"There isn't anything on your face. But the foundation's on your neck and shoulders is kind of off, I guess. Were you bitten by a bug, onee–"

An obnoxiously cheery ringtone cuts the girl off. Your face burning a deep hue of coyness, she watches you pluck your phone out of your bag, then walk a few steps away, voice dropping to a hushed murmur – which takes a minute before growing shrill then silent. Your cheeks and ears sport the deepest shade of red Riko's ever seen.

Asking them for a little more time, grin so sheepish and flustered, you whirl on your heels and walk a couple of feet away, your hand fiddling with the Okinawa keychain your boyfriend bought you today at noon.

Lips quirking in a fond smile, Riko looks away from your shy giggling figure to the chuckling Kuroi, to the big ocean waves crashing on the sands below.

Yeah, it might've been good to have a chance at a bit longer life.

———

DAY 3; 15:08

This is not good.

Oh heavens no. This is so not good.

Tears springing forth and streaming down her cheeks, Riko moves to take a step towards you. Then, stills when you put up a bloodied hand asking her to stop. Face scrunched into a smile which, the little vessel knows, conveys nothing of the agony tearing at your insides; you cast a glance at the gaping hole in your palm, then drift your gaze back to her.

Something acidic and pungent surges to the girl's mouth — though not at you, never at you – but at herself, the sole reason why you're clutching your profusely bleeding wound, left by the bullet originally meant for her; why Geto stands shocked and numb, with a hundred curses looming round the room, ready to attack at the slightest hint of an order; why Gojo's probably lying near the torii gates, dead and swarmed by cursed maggots – if what she heard less than a minute back, isn't a lie, that is.

Judging from the sharp gasp of air you drew in then — it isn't, Riko thinks.

Your smile stays as pathetically serene as ever; the only traitor now being those rivulets of grief carving their courses on your face. You part your lips in a heart-wrenching plea.

"Run, Riko-chan. Run to a place far from here. Somewhere none can find you. And don't ever come back. Please."

Shaking her head a 'No!' as fiercely as she can, the girl bites back her sobs. A cold hand pulls her by the shoulder towards the entrance; she keeps her feet firmly planted to the ground.

Everything was going so, so well– why then did this abominable man have to appear out of nowhere and upend everything in her life? Only when she realized she did not want to be the sacrifice for the sake of everyone else, and that, she too could afford an ounce of selfishness — why then did this man have to appear and extinguish that singular flame of hope lit in her world? Why, why, why—

A harsh bark of a laughter barges into her thoughts.

Your eyes develop a pinch of panic as they travel from the man you froze in the entrance to them, then back to him. The victim of your cursed technique sneers.

"You're that girl with the psychic powers, aren't ya? Thought you can only use your power to kill a person; since when can you freeze them like a statue, eh— can see, hear and feel everything, but can't move a single muscle, except to speak, huh? Or, no, wait–" A second raucous laugh rings through the halls and corridors; you clench your wounded hand into a fist so tight, she thinks she too can feel the pain weighing on your senses right now.

The assassin jeers, "You must be so, so tired to not be able to kill this poor cursed energy-less bastard, hm? And on top of all that, you also must not have refined the technique enough to shut me up, yeah?" A vein throbs in your temple; the man speaks, more gleeful than ever.

"And given how I'm slowly losing the numbness in my arms and legs... your technique is so fucking weak, girl. And the jujutsu society called you their messiah, eh? Fucking fools, the whole lot. Their six eyes in a pool of his blood outside while their other trump card's soon to meet a similar miserable end at this monkey's hands. How funny, ain't it?"

Giving no semblance of a reply to him, you turn your eyes back to her – no, to Geto who's standing behind her – and urge him, so desperate and desolate, every breath you take a short jerky heave of your chest, "Take Riko somewhere safe, senpai. And don't return till you've gotten help. Now, go. Quick."

Craning her neck upwards, the teenager catches a glimpse of the boy grasping her shoulder firmly — hoping he'll refuse to listen to you and stay right there, fighting the monster right beside you — but finds no fragment of dissent on his face.

Extreme reluctance? Yes.

Profound melancholy? Yes.

Stifling resignation? Yes, yes, yes.

But dissent? No.

It makes an appearance, now and then, but never persists for long.

She makes yet another attempt to get closer to you.

"Onee-chan, no," Riko begs, snarling and thrashing from under Geto's unyielding hold on her arm now, "please don't do this. I wanna live my life to the fullest, but I cannot if I don't have y'all beside me. So, you–"

"Riko-chan, no–"

"–ask me to go away like an escapist coward–"

"Riko-chan, listen–"

"–staying right over here, next to–"

"RIKO!"

The harsh call of her name makes the girl stumble and stutter. It isn't you who called her so; it's Geto, peering down at her with moisture in his eyes. An ugly sob crawls out her throat. He mumbles, "You're way too young to understand all this, but know that, if you're out there in the world– safe, free and happy– the Star Plasma Vessel mission can be marked successful only then. Whatever sacrifices all of us made or are going to make today," a glance at you shows the bittersweet smile you're wearing; Riko's wails worsen, "they won't make any sense if, at the end of the day, you're harmed. So, please listen to us and escape with Kuroi-san, yeah?"

The man to her not-so-distant left flexes his fingers a bit. The three of you look at him before looking at one another. You look a few minutes away from passing out, skin paling and breaths growing labored with every second that elapses.

Eyes screwn shut, Riko lets go of the fight she was harbouring in her body. Geto's voice breaks with unshed moisture. "Try not to die, kid. I already lost a best friend today, don't wanna lose a sister too."

Riko doesn't need to open her eyes to know your reaction; the heart-rending sob paired with the "No promises, aniki," you let out tells her enough – before your cursed energy expands yet again, and a chilled palm pulls her by the hand into a swift run, the hit of her shoes on the floor echoing in the stuffy underground air.

Air which soon switches from the suffocation of ancience to that of blood and death — the teenager takes but a moment to realize who the person is. Biting down harshly on her lower lip, she swallows the raw anguish tearing her sinews apart, and keeps her eyes shut firm.

Willing the darkness reigning behind her eyelids to overtake every part of her body – especially her mind, being hurtled one memory after another, and another – Kuroi making her lunch for school; Kuroi teaching her to tie her braids; Kuroi congratulating for every success of hers and supporting her after every failure, be it big or small; Kuroi being the family she once thought she had lost in a car crash–

The sharp ding of the lift and the crackling warmth of the sun on her tear-stained cheeks are the last two things Riko registers, before the world round her fades away into a noiseless black — finally.

———

DAY 4718; 16:02

"Anableps can see both above and below the water at the same time, y'know?"

The statement and the awed "Woo!" that follows it rouses Riko from the siesta she was teetering on the brink of. She yawns and rubs her eyes. Then yawns again, a bit more subdued this time, considering a family walks past her.

Uni's been very stressful of late, and to top it all off, the woman who's supposed to handle this shift has called in sick – so, as fucking same as before, the manager is gonna call in some newbie to work instead.

The newbie being none other than Riko – very unfortunately – on a tiring Friday afternoon as today.

At least, the job pays well and she gets to spend time explaining fish and their world to excited kids, plus the occasional one or two adults who look a touch different from their usual bored indifference.

But, of course, there's always a group of friends who come bounding in.

Worse than a class of kindergarten children fighting for the single toy of a dinosaur their teacher has brought — Riko avoids such crowds of like the plague. Storming past them, turning down their query, asking a coworker to fill in for her – the young grad student applies all tricks and methods known to her to escape the situation.

To escape the familiar buzz of cheer and enthusiasm.

To escape the familiar weight of nostalgia and gloom.

To escape the—

"Um, miss, where can we find the whale sharks' tank? Heard it's the main attraction here... And, uh, we're also a little lost, actually."

Trains of thought thrown off-track, the young woman squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them again, a customer service smile flitting onto her lips as she turns back. And holds back a very exasperated groan. Why the fuck did Mio had to leave for a snacks break now of the innumerable times she could have gone before? And why does this crowd have to be the very thing she hates dealing with? Ugh... Never mind–

"Just turn to your left, go down the corridor, then to your right. You'll find the whale sharks there."

The pink-haired boy accepts the reply with a nod and a bright thanks, before the black-haired boy places a hand on his shoulder and he falls quiet. The latter looks strangely familiar, Riko thinks... ignoring it, she shoots the boys a quizzical smile. "Is there anything else you would to like to ask or—"

"You're my mom's friend. I've seen your pictures at home," he cuts her off, brows furrowing. His friend looks at him, so perplexed, not much unlike how Riko's feeling. He pays no mind, continuing, "You attended a Catholic school, love music and aquatic life, and have an obsession with coconut crab meat and soba, don't you?"

"Megumi..." A slightly older girl standing behind them with two girls donning identical t-shirts, begins in a lightly chastising tone, but the tour guide feels she's miles away from them. Catholic school, music lessons, aquariums, soki soba, yashigani, Okinawa... it simply cannot be you—

"Tsumiki! Mimiko!" A voice, Riko once was under the impression she'll never be hearing again, except in nightmares, rings through the near-empty hall of the aquarium, soon followed by the appearing of a face she thought she'll never see again, except in the sole photograph left with her on the phone Geto gave her, besides 5000 円 and contacts he asked her to get in touch with, as soon as possible, that evening a good twelve years ago in Osaka.

You reach a stop before the group, a young brown-haired girl trailing you with a worried scowl on her face. Dumbstruck, Riko watches you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"I can understand Nana-chan's phone is busy being used in clicking photos but the same excuse cannot be extended to you, can it? No. So, why on earth can't any of you four pick your mobile up when I'm calling you, hm? Or please don't tell me the batteries are dead. Again."

The blonde girl, presumably Nana-chan, smiles smugly while three out of the addressed four kids shoot a sheepish smile your way. Your frown slowly gives way to a fond grin and you huff a chuckle, shaking your head – which only grows in intensity when the girl following you lets out an annoyed hmph! and launches into a tirade how extremely worried the two of you were and how much dumb and careless them five are.

Eyes welling over with emotions percolated over the course of many, many years, Riko watches you grin so freely — only for it to still and fade when the spiky-haired boy says he has met your friend from the photograph, and you look from him to her standing inconspicuously, half-hidden in the shadows.

A painfully slow second passes.

The entire gaggle of kids falls quiet at the disbelieving watery chuckle you let out. Taking two steps forwards, she offers you a mirror image of your expression.

"Told you the aquarium's fun, didn't I?"

A call of your name bounces off the grey walls in a saccharine tone: Riko knows instinctively, can be no one's except one blue-eyed and white-haired bastard's. You cast a glance at the tall man rushing to you, then return your gaze to her, with the same radiant beam you gave on that day twelve years back, when Riko first expressed her real thoughts out in the air.

The young woman wastes no moment before running to you and engulfing you in the tightest hug she can possibly manage, tears rushing down her face. Your gentle voice shushes her, the way an elder sister would do to a younger sister.

Riko's lips stretch in the widest and freest grin she has felt in forever.

Joyful and thankful her onee-chan is finally back in her life, giving the added length it received some much-needed hues — 'cause a longer life is obviously good but it's the best when your life is long and spent with your near and dear ones.

▸ notes: The reader was in the process of developing and perfecting a new CT, hence her CE was so unstable – spiking and ebbing – besides the fact it drained her energy like hell. Toji was a smart man, he figured it out pretty quickly and easily. [And for the ppl who're wondering how the reader was able to stop the attack on Riko: she used a tendril of thoughts emanating from a person's mind to detect their presence, instead of their cursed energy remains.] [She can't read those thoughts, though.]

▸ masterlist

[intellectual6666]

The line between us (PART-1) (INTRODUCTION)

Synopsis : An independent rich woman lives alone in her world, for which she sometimes gets upset, meets a guy who, for the first time ever, questions her work.

Genre : Enemies to lovers, a bit angsty now.

Warnings : None ig ? The male character mocks the female character

Not proofread (there might be some spelling and grammatical errors)

More under cut ~

Stumbling to the entrance, Kriti balanced all the files she had in her embrace and walked in her office building. Everyone on her bowed her, to which she replied with equal respect and moved inside her office on 4th floor.

No one knew Kriti Sharma, Sales Manager of Whipco company was fuming inside. Little did she knew her day would go that bad. First, she got to know early morning that she accidently deleted all the important emails the last night after getting drunk. Then, after getting everything ready, when she went to her car, she noticed there was a hole in her top. Ughhh. Again running inside her house, she changed and drove to her office in a speed of bolt (reaching late still). Fell in her office while pacing around, attending a call. Then went out for a small break and got the hot coffee all over her dress, burning her skin. Meeting went bad, more work piled up, boss not satisfied, lot of pending work left. The day went worse than worst for Kriti. Driving back home, she saw the beautiful city lights.

After reaching home, she unlocked her attractive apartment and went inside. Throwing away her heels, she flopped her bag somewhere and laid on the couch.

Eyes closed, hands on her stomach and legs spread, she thought about the day. Every thing went bad, nothing worked out, boss is unimpressed with the new interns, mind isn't working, that shitty coffee. Tears formed and trailed down the sides of her cheeks. She was feeling so full of everything, it felt overwhelming.

There was nothing she didn't have in her life. She lived alone in an extravagant apartment, working and earning enough to get her whatever she wants and even thinks of once. She loved all she had, and honestly, anyone would die to live like her. But something always felt missing. Her passion.

Little Kriti always dreamt to be photographer, to travel around the world and capture every other piece of art this world has to offer. But due to the society's pressure that this is not any fruitful kind of a job and especially her family's taunts, she ignored her passion.

Thinking about all of this, tears kept running down her face. The burn on her thigh was hurting her, her thoughts even more. She didn't feel like getting up, having anything and get changed. All her mind wanted was peace. So slowly, Kriti drifted off to sleep.

Next day

Kriti woke up, in her last day's office dress, with the minimal makeup she did last day. Getting ready for the day, she mentally decided "Today's going to be nothing like yesterday." Little did she know her world was about to take a beautiful little turn, making her alone life fill up with a person.

Reaching her office, she got startled by her frenemy, Mr. Prasad on her way. "Do you know that our COO (Chief Operative Officer) is coming to visit us today ?", he asked.

"Oh really, how come I don't know about it ?"

"Anyways, let's run, we shouldn't be getting late."

Running into their office, they reached the 4th floor and almost flew towards the meeting room. Getting inside, both were relieved that the meeting hadn't started yet.

"Kriti, Mr. Mukherjee is visiting us today and he will stay in our branch for sometime. It is a suprise visit. He said somethings are screwed up here so he is coming to fix it", said her boss.

"Oh okay."

"You have all the annual report files with you ?"

"Yes I do, in the laptop."

"Show them to him when needed."

Humming in response, Kriti started growing anxious. Nothing's wrong with their branch. It's running smoothly. Everyone's happy to do their piece of work and they are paid for the work they do. But let's see what the COO have in his mind.

Mr. Aadarsh Mukherjee. COO of Whipco company. The most famous man in the company. Most of them feared him because of the rumours that, he could find loopholes nobody else noticed. So when he visited the different branches, everyone would be scared.

Walking into the meeting room, Mr. Mukherjee was bowed by everyone. Sitting into one chair, he started the meeting, he met everyone's gaze. No, not everyone's though. One girl at the corner, with silky hair done in a pony and brown coloured blazer with black shirt under, looked straight at the projector, not sparing him a glance. Kriti.

After speaking about few things, he asked, "Who's the sales manager here ?" Looking at everyone, he finally saw that girl stand up and say, "Good morning Sir, I am Kriti, the Sales Manager."

"You really need to improve your work. You're not communicating enough with customers more, and thus, not satisfying their needs. I hope you know that communicating with customers is a part of your job." He mocked the last line.

"Yes Sir, I know it's my work but as much as I can remember, everyone commented that I do an amazing job in communicating with our customers and satisfy their needs."

"Well, I might call them blind cause apparently, you aren't doing much good of a work."

"I'll try to be better next time."

"We don't need the better ones here Kriti, we need the best. Try to be best or you're out I guess."

She looked at him in the eyes. He could sense her fuming rage inside. She controlled herself and said, "Okay sir."

Never in her professional life did anyone criticized her like that. Yes, she did mistakes like any other human but she knew, along with others, that the amount of work she did, she did it with focus and perfected them. Though, knowing the fact that the COO will surely try to find loopholes and she may become his target, Kriti didn't like the way he mocked her.

After the meeting ended, Aadarsh wanted to have all the managers infront of him and commanded the rest to go. But knowingly, Kriti left without a word.

Maybe she was upset, but surely, she was angry. She didn't want to stay there with that man any more second. She needed her alone time to perfect her work and don't give him any other option to question her work. He will get to know what Kriti Sharma is capable of.

First impression went bad. Both didn't like each other. But as it can be predicted, the relationship between them will be growing even more bitter by time if not mended. So will this small passive argument between Aadarsh and Kriti grow bigger or mould into something else ? Something better ?

**************************

Ik it sucks. I could do a lot better. This came out to be really shitty. But okay. Let's see what happens next. I hope I'll be better next time.

Tagging : @shadowseductress @bareillyki-barfi @msperfectlydamaged @zeherili-ankhein @emartirabdi @lotuseaterwhowistlesthedark @priimadonnna @0fuzzyduck0

Do no repost. Reblogs are appreciated.

[artists-ally]

{Flatline} OFC x Harvey Specter {Pt. 3)

Uh ohhhh guys it’s Pt. 3 🤭🤭🤭 I am so excited for this. It’s honestly one of my favorite things I’ve written and I hope you all agree. There is a poll at the end so make sure to vote for that <3 enjooyyyyy p.s. I hope this does good justice for this series.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Character Playlist

Word Count: 12,795

Warnings: language, angst, anxious thoughts, one singular mention of sexual h*r*ssm*nt in regards to Harvey’s actions with Claudia, smut 18+, the tiniest bit of food play, dom/sub dynamics, praise kink go brrr

***Italic sections indicate flashbacks***

Summary: The aftermath of Harvey breaking his promise to Claudia.

Tagging: @rosedpetal @maxdamax @ashcosmo

~~~~~~

HARVEY'S POV

My legs were numb. That sort of numbness when something happens that you can’t explain. It felt like my life just flashed before my eyes. That image of Claudia’s shaking lip… hearing her broken voice… I don’t think I’ll ever get it out of my fucking head. 

“Harvey, I requested those trades be made an hour ago. Do you wanna tell me why… Harvey?”

I could see Jessica in front of me, but I couldn’t hear a damn thing she said. 

“Harvey, what’s going on?” She closed the door, and I put a hand out to steady myself so I wouldn’t fall on the floor. “What happened?” “I fucked up,” I whispered. 

“Yeah, no shit. You tanked our only opportunity to get a leg up on this Gustoson case. You’re damn right you fucked up-”

“No no,” I sat on the arm of the chair. My hands began to shake so I folded them together. Jessica saw. 

“What the hell did you do?”

“I yelled at Claudia…”

She just blinked at me. “Is that seriously what you’re concerned about? Yelling at an associate? Okay, you yelled at an associate, what’s new? That might as well be in your job description.”

“No no no I didn’t just yell at her I threatened to do the one thing that I promised I would never do and now she’s gone. She left. I can’t- I don’t- I never meant to hurt her but she suggested that we file a motion to dismiss and I got so caught up in my anger about her accusing me of using her that I lost my-”

“Using her? Harvey, what is going on?” “I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Donna barged in. 

“Donna please don’t-”

“Harvey and Claudia have been ‘working together’ for the last month and a half, when in reality he has been a selfish, lying, arrogant brat who has crossed so many lines it’s beginning to look like a Rorschach Test.”

“You know?” I felt my heart suffocate myself. I thought I was gonna throw up.

“In all honesty Harvey, no I didn’t. Not until Claudia just broke down in the elevator and told me everything. I cannot believe that you would use her like that. For your own personal satisfaction are you out of your fucking mind?” “Harvey, what the hell is she talking about?” Jessica’s voice was full of hostility. 

“He thought that it would be a good idea to boost Claudia’s confidence by getting into her pants.”

“Donna it wasn’t-”

Jessica scoffed, covering her face. “What the hell is wrong with you? This has got sexual harassment written all over it, Havrey. Could you really be that delusional?”

“For fucks sake it wasn’t like that!” I screamed. Genuinely screamed and paced around. “I didn’t use her, not intentionally. God dammit I haven't been able to think clearly since the first day that I saw Claudia. She is an incredible lawyer and all I wanted to do was give her something else to focus on because she was afraid to be in a room with me. I just- all I wanted to do was help her find a little bit of confidence and oh my god this sounds so much worse when I say it outloud.”

Donna and Jessica exchanged a look while I slowly felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest and stomped on the floor with cleats. 

“Okay Harvey, sit down and tell us what happened,” Donna steered me away from putting a hole in the wall to my desk.

“I don’t even know, Donna.” “Well while you two enjoy going down memory lane, I’ll be fighting for our firm's life. If you two don’t get your shit together, and by you two I mean Harvey, then… I don’t even know then.”

She all but slammed the door on her way out, patrons on the other side sending worried glances our way. I turned my chair so they wouldn’t see me. 

“How long has this been going on?” Donna asked. 

I dug my nails into my skin. “Almost two months.”

“Two months? Harvey, how could you not tell me?” “Because I didn’t want to,” I admitted. “And partly because I kind of thought you already knew. You know, the whole ‘Donna superpower’ shit you do.”

“I know I can’t believe I missed it,” she took the chair in front of me. I glared at her so hard I thought I’d light that hair of hers on fire. “Okay bad time for a joke. So, bachelor, why don’t you start from the beginning. And please, I don’t need to know the dirty details, despite my curiosity. Claudia is like a little sister to me and I really don’t want to picture you and her and oh my god I already am. Ugh, please start talking so I don’t have to be tortured.”

So dramatic. I was good looking, and so was Claudia. Why wouldn’t anyone want to picture us together? Then my eyes snapped to the chair she was sitting on. Oh god. Donna was in the chair that I was the first time Claudia and I-

“Get up,” I blurted out, reaching for her and placing her in my desk chair. God dammit we used that one too. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

We sat down on the couch and I rubbed my strained eyes. Here goes nothing. 

“When Sheila first sent over the recruits from Harvard, I interviewed all of them. Except for one. There were thirteen associates but I only had twelve meetings set up. So I asked Louis if he was interviewing any of the newbies and he said just one. Obviously this person was some sort of idiot to be going to Louis instead of me, so I popped in.”

“Well, Claudia I think that you have some unbelievable potential at this firm and I’d just like to- Harvey, what are you doing here I am in the middle of an interview.”

“Oh I know, I just wanted to drop by and see how it was going.”

In front of Louis was this warm, chestnut brown head of sleek, silk like hair. She was wearing a lavender blouse and a black maxi skirt with a slit to the knee. She had on these black flats with pearls on them. Summer had just ended, and there was some remaining sunburn on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were surrounded by prominent lashes and eyebrows, a fine line of makeup between the two; lavender, to match the top. 

“It’s going great, now will you get the hell out and tend to your own interviews and stop barging in on my only one?”

“Harvey Specter,” I introduced, sticking out my hand. She looked from it over to Louis, who was just shooting me daggers. 

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”“Louis, I’m not trying to woo your associate, I’m just introducing myself to her. We are kind of name partners, you know. It’s the courteous thing to do.”

Again, all she did was look at my hand before slowly standing up. I didn’t miss the way she tried to subtly wipe her hand on her skirt. 

“I’m Claudia. Claudia Martin.”

God dammit that was a pretty name. It sounded so sophisticated, so mature and would sound really nice next to mine. Or with mine. Harvey Specter and Claudia Martin. I don’t know why I thought of hearing or seeing ‘Claudia Specter’ one day, but I did. And I didn’t hate the way it sounded. 

“Welcome to Pearson Specter Litt,” I gave a nice smile. It was clear she was already intimidated to be here, I didn’t need to add to that fire. She barely looked me in the eye for two seconds, but those two seconds made my head spin. 

She had the most gorgeous eyes I think I’ve ever seen in my life. They were amber in the middle but had this ring of hazel around the outer rim. It was just… not something I’ve ever seen before. I didn’t want her to look away because I just wanted to keep looking at them.

And that blush… that I knew wasn’t her sunburn. Not the way it creeped up the side of her face, or at the base of her neck. 

Jesus Harvey, stop staring at her. You’re probably giving off major stalker vibes.

“Well I’ll be around if you need anything, Claudia. Don’t be shy,” I smiled, the best charming one I could. Her full lips were in a tight line, her fingers picking at each other before she sat back down with Louis.

“Okay so you sabotaged Louis’ meeting with Claudia and thought she was beautiful? Why didn’t you just say that?” Donna interrupted. 

“Didn’t you ask me to start from the beginning?” She snapped her lips closed. “So let me tell the goddamn story. Yes, I thought she was stunning. I mean, no one in their right mind would think otherwise. She is so pretty and so smart and twice the person I wish I could be. There is just something about her that I can’t shake from my memory.”

“Yeah we get it, you’re head over heels for Claudia. Now on with it I don’t have all day.”

I rolled my eyes. 

“That was the first time I met her. It wasn’t long after that she started working here when I talked to her again. She was just sitting at her desk, Griffin and whoever else crowded around the opposite end of the bullpen. She was excluded and it made me feel bad.”

I’ve always thought Griffin would be at the top of my list for top associates. He was like me; only shorter, not as good looking, and had blue eyes instead of brown. Did I mention he wasn’t as good looking? Anyway, I had only one intention: get Claudia alone so I could talk to her.

Every day since she started a few weeks ago, I have watched her get off the elevator, walk through the office, and disappear around the corner. It wasn’t fair that she got to look like that, walk like that, and no one was around to appreciate it. 

She was so fucking eye catching. And I didn’t want the other slobs at this firm to get to her before I could.

“Claudia, do you mind helping me with something for a few minutes?” I asked, voice just loud enough for Griffin to hear. 

She looked up, pen cap between her rosy lips, and blinked. That flush creeped onto her cheeks. I tried not to smile. 

“Sure,” she nodded once and stood up, following me out. 

I was not so subtle with the look that I gave Griffin, and he wasn’t so subtle with the way he spoke.

“Is there something you need, Harvey? Claudia is in the middle of a very important depo documentation. I’d hate for her to fall behind.”

What a dick. “No, Griffin. It seems like you’ve got more important things to do with your book club than working on whatever Louis assigned you, so Claudia will work just fine. I prefer an actually hard working associate to someone who’s discussing whatever mediocre steak dinner you had at Texas Roadhouse last Wednesday.”

“Griffin’s eyes simmered and shot daggers into Claudia. But he didn’t open his mouth. I thought about punching him in the face for looking at her like that, and that’s when I realized I was fucked. That I was willing to do that for Claudia when it was literally the second time I’ve ever talked to her.”

“I’ll say,” Donna huffed. “What happened next?” “I just had her deliver some letters for me to the courthouse. I asked her something about Griffin, if they were ever acquainted with each other.”

“And what did she say?”

“She told me that Griffin was a total douchebag and tried to use his social status to get a leg up on her in class discussions, cutting corners to discredit her. It was so unfair and I just-”

Donna put a hand on my knee. “Relax, Harvey. Griffin isn’t here, stop looking like you want to put him through a wall.” “Well, Donna, I do want to put him through a wall because he has been an asshole to Claudia for no other reason than she was good at her job. It makes me sick.”

“When did you start becoming so protective of her? I’ve never seen you like this with anyone other than Mike, Louis, Jessica and myself. You must… really really care about her.”

“I think it was during the mock trial. She was always off to the side, always attentive, but never spoke up. I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over at her every once and a while to see if she wanted to be included. But she never did.”

“This case may seem simple, but the husband is a grade A asshole. He has done everything to cover his tracks and is gonna come at us with everything he’s got. Find me some evidence and make it good.”

They all branched off, heading this way and that. Claudia went to the only logical place, right to me.

“Hi, Mr. Specter-sir. I just have one question about-about the case if you’ve got a minute. If you have somewhere to be I understand and I can ask later,” she said quickly.

“Of course, what do you want to know?” I couldn’t help but think her stuttering was cute. I knew she was nervous, specifically around me; she always seemed so tense with me, so I made sure to always speak quietly and calmly with her. 

“Was Mr. Saros the one who paid off that investment banker? Did the money come from his account directly or a different one?”

God she was so good. “It came from him and his wife’s joint account.”

Claudia had a slight grin to her lips, and she nodded before striding away. She was going to crack this wide open. I just knew it. 

I went back to my office to wait it out, to see if any one could come up with an idea before Claudia. Before I knew it, it was three o'clock and I had a meeting to go to for another case Mike and I were working on. When we got in the car, Mike was looking at me with a knowing smile. 

“What?” 

He shook his head, “Nothing, just wondering how long you’re going to pretend you’re not in love with Claudia Martin.”

“The first year associate?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who she is. I see you watch her like a starving animal every time she comes into the office. And every time she leaves. And every time she asks Donna something.”

Uh oh.

“Oh please, I have far better things to do than get involved with a first year.”

“You didn’t deny that you were in love with her.”

“Do you want to get smacked? Or I could kick you out of this car at sixty miles per hour, see how you like the taste of asphalt.” Mike did not know when to stop pushing my buttons. 

“I think you just proved my theory.”

“What theory?”

“That you are in love and you are incredibly protective of Claudia. I heard about what you said to Griffin when he offered his help because Claudia was ‘too busy’. You know he pawned that work off to her, right?”

My eyes narrowed and my jaw clenched, as well as my fists. I fixed my gaze out the window and took some deep breaths. Jesus… he had a point. A huge point. God dammit I’m in trouble.

“Mike knew before I did?” Donna sounded mildly offended. 

“Well, not really. I never told him what we were doing. But I did tell him that I liked her. And when he told me that Griffin was pawning off his work to Caudia it sent me into a spiral. Shit, Donna… I am in so deep with Claudia. I really fucked up. I mean really bad. I made a promise to her that I wouldn’t treat her like the other associates because she wasn’t like the other associates. She was Claudia. And Claudia was- is- so much better than the rest of them.” “Why would you make a promise like that if you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep it?” “I had every intention of keeping it, but then all the shit with started happening when Louis found out about Mike being a fraud and he took that fucking case with Gerard and I couldn’t hold it together.” “Why did you even make it in the first place?” Donna asked, but I really didn’t want to tell this story.

I sighed, the type of sigh that fills your whole body.

“I was going off on Griffin one day, for being an asshole to some of the other associates, about pawning off his work to Claudia and she saw.”

“Griffin, I don’t care whose idea it was. You were the one to destroy his work, so you’re going to face the consequences.”

“It was just a prank, the entire document wasn’t supposed to be deleted.”

“You think tampering with another associate’s work is a prank? I hope when you go home tonight you think long and hard about who you wanna be as a man because as of right now, there isn’t going to be anything for you to come back to tomorrow. And you better pray to whatever you believe in because if there’s one person you don’t want to make an enemy out of, it’s me. Do you understand that?”

He clenched his jax, shoving his hands in his pockets. “yes.”

“You are going to be Louis’ personal associate.”“No, no way you can make me work for that man. He’s a total airhead.”“Yes, he is, now you two have something to talk about. You can bond over your selfish, outrageous egotistical behavior, it’ll be just like looking in a mirror.”

“Harvey I’m-”

“I don’t care what you are Griffin. You have no right to treat the other associates like that, especially Claudia. If I ever catch wind of you throwing your work load on her again so help me God I will make sure it is the last thing you do at this firm.”

If my point wasn’t clear enough by my words, the look I gave him would certainly do. He left my office without another word and I followed his movements all the way. But my eyes met Claudia’s. And they were wide and panicked. She quickly scurried away, head down and steps fast. She looked so afraid. 

She wasn’t afraid of me was she? I mean, all I had done was rip Griffin a new one for being an asshole. And he deserved it, Claudia would never do something to deserve that kind of lashing. 

“And so I promised her. I fucking promised her that I would never flip out on her and then I went and did exactly. God Donna… I am so fucked up.”

Her slim hand rubbed up and down my shoulder, but I only wanted it to be Claudia’s. I wanted her right next to me so I could go through all of this with her and explain that it wasn’t just some fling. Not to me. Never to me. I never wanted it to be temporary, she was… she’s it for me. 

The familiar prick crept into my eyes, my nose, and the tears fell. Donna has only seen me cry a handful of times, but never over a girl.

But Claudia wasn’t just some girl. She wasn’t just some hookup or some prize to be won. She was Claudia Martin. My Claudia. The quiet, shy first year associate I had worked so hard to get out of her shell. It wasn’t just for my pleasure, I truly didn’t want to see her fall behind just because she couldn’t ask me a question.

I saw that look in her eye; hunger and determination. Just like mine. I wanted it to shine brighter than her smile. Which was equally as devastating as her work in the courtroom. But I just wanted her to feel comfortable around me and I didn’t know what else to do. She was like a frightened baby deer around me. A constant nervous wreck at the drop of my name. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, I wanted nothing more than to be a safe space for her. 

And maybe it’s just because I’m an idiot, but I’m realizing now that maybe I’m the one who needed the safe place. To just have someone to go to all the time. To share all of my proud moments and sneak little kisses and touches here and there. 

I need Claudia. I need her.

Maybe I took it too far. Started at the wrong place. I should’ve offered to take her out to dinner instead of inviting her up for a drink in my office after her first case. I shouldn’t have done it so backwards, and it kills me that I’m only drawing that connection now. Why couldn’t I have thought of that earlier? She would’ve been so much better off without all the backwards, fucked up shit that I did.

But it was so nice. To finally have the one thing I have been craving for so long. She was so soft, and she was so sweet under my touch and I couldn’t help myself. As soon as I first kissed her it was end game. I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. I wouldn’t ever kiss anyone again, not the way I kissed Claudia. More than lust. More than just a desire. 

Her lips on mine made my head go blank. I had an awful habit of having work thoughts creep their way into my head every once in a while. But never with her. Even when we were only talking about work, I couldn’t think about it. I only thought about her. About how brilliant she was, about how soft and warm and perfect her lips were on mine. About how she always made me feel at ease and comforted. I doubt she could ever make anyone afraid. Except maybe an opposing counsel. 

If I ever had to face her in court… I know I’d lose. For one, I’d give her anything she wanted simply because she could put me on my knees with a single look. And normally I’d hate to let a woman have that much control over me, but for Claudia… I’d let her do whatever she wanted. And Second, she knows what to do. All the time. She never misses a beat, and is always listening. Even when you think she isn’t.

I am so in love with Claudia. I felt my heart crack open. My voice more or less does the same. 

“Harvey…” “I am in love with her, Donna. And I think I have been for a long time.”

She was quiet, and a throat cleared. Mike was there in front of me, his hands in his pockets, a look of worry on his face. “Is everything alright?”

I saw Donna shake her head out of the corner of my eye. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she wanted to. 

“I broke my promise to Claudia.” That was all I said. I heard his sharp inhale, and he came and sat in front of us. “God dammit Mike… I really messed up. I hurt the one person I couldn’t afford to and- and I don’t know what to do.”

“Go talk to her,” Mike said. “If you’re serious about how you feel about Claudia, then you need to go tell her that it was never… whatever you were doing before. She has anxiety, Harvey. She is going to let her brain tell her things about you that aren’t true. And you need to be there to soothe the fire before it does irreversible damage.” “Well, what do you and Rachel do when you get into an argument?” 

“Harvey,” Donna said, “You aren’t Mike, and Claudia isn’t Rachel. Whatever they do might not work for you. You need to do what feels right for you and your relationship.” “I don’t know if you know this Donna, but I haven’t done something like this before. I don’t know how to talk to her. How to not make her anxious around me.” “We’ll help you,” Mike nods, as well as Donna. “We can come up with a plan but right now we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands.” What could be more devastating than hurting Claudia? 

Nothing. The answer was nothing.

____

CLAUDIA’S POV

I toed off my shoes, leaving them in the growing pile by my front door. I sighed at it. Why couldn’t they just put themselves away? 

My splitting headache was doing nothing to help either. 

Before I could even get a thought about what I could cook for dinner, the doorbell rang. I swear to god if Greg was here asking me about those flowers on my wreath again I was going to smack him with it, throw it over his head and shove him back inside his apartment and-

“Claudia, it’s Mike. I know you’re here, can we talk?”

Mike? What the hell is he doing here? 

I seriously debated giving my best housekeeper impression and deadbolting the door. But it was Mike, and he hadn’t done anything to deserve a cold shoulder. Oh god, what if Harvey was with him and I was getting set up? Oh shit.

“No, Harvey isn’t with me. I promise.”

I stalked to the door, pulling it open and glaring up at Mike. “The last time someone made me a promise I regretted it.” He just pressed his lips in a flat line. “What are you doing here, Mike?”

“I’m here on behalf of Harvey.” “Why?” “Because he’s worried about you.” Why is he worried about me? He made it very clear he didn’t give a shit about me. “He’s beating himself up over what he did.”

“Good,” that I didn’t restrain. 

“Claudia, he is really shaken up right now. He didn’t mean to do what he did. Now, I’m not going to stand here and pretend I know all the details about what he did but-” “He used me, Mike. Plain and simple.” All I got was a raised eyebrow. “He told me he wanted to ‘build my confidence’ which I was actually naive enough to believe, and it led to my worst fucking nightmare. But he just got what he wanted, to get his dick wet and then was done with me.”

“Claudia, trust me, it wasn’t like that. Harvey would never use you like that. He wouldn’t dream of it, trust me.”

“Are you sure because it seems like that’s exactly what he did. He saw that I was hard working, manipulated me into working with him, and treated me like shit when I was just trying to find a solution to his goddamn problem. I have more self respect than that. To let him continue to get away with that.”

“Can I ask what he did?”

My throat closed, and my palms began to sweat. I knew my annoying blush was there by the way his eyes dipped to my neck. 

“After I won my first case with him, he invited me up to his office for some drinks. Said something along the lines of wanting to get to know each other so I didn’t have to feel so nervous. So I went up, and one thing led to another and… I don’t know why I let it happen. I knew it would end badly. I can’t believe I let myself believe that he would be into me beyond anything other than his pure primal satisfaction. But he seemed so genuine and so caring. Like he genuinely wanted to help me, and some part of me obviously thought it was a good idea because it happened again. And again. And again. God, I sound like the biggest loser right now.” “No you don’t,” Mike gave me a soft smile. “If it means anything, those feelings weren’t one sided. I know it doesn’t mean much of anything coming from me but… Harvey is really really fucking sorry about what he did.”

I was physically shaking. Through my trembles, I managed to speak, despite my thoughts trying to shut me down. “It hurt so bad, Mike. I really like Harvey, and I thought he might feel the same way. I guess I was wrong. So… so wrong.”

“No, Claudia you’re not wrong. Harvey is a grade A asshole but he wouldn’t-”

“If there is any chance of Harvey sorting this out, you need to tell him to grow a set and tell me himself,” I have no idea where this confidence came from. “He needs to stop getting other people to do his job for him. If he can’t recognize that now, of all times, then… then I don’t think he deserves me.”

Mike blinked long, rubbing his fingers over his mouth. “Harvey didn’t ask me to come here.” “What?” What? 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I knew Harvey wouldn’t come tonight. I’m not sure he’ll come at all but… Claudia, he talks about you like I’ve never seen him talk before. He gushes over you to the point where it’s annoying. And when I went to go and talk to him about what our next move was for this case… Claudia, he was crying. He was sobbing with Donna in his office and-”

Good, I wanted to say. But it kind of crushed my soul. Harvey was crying over what he did to me. 

“I’ve never seen him cry before,” Mike looked hurt, too. “He regrets what he said. I know he does.”

“I believe you.”

“Good,” he nods. “I don’t want to do his job for him and I think-”

“But that doesn’t mean I will forgive him for what he said,” and with that, I closed the door, locking it for the night.

_____

Saturday and Sunday were so agonizing. The last thing I wanted to do was go into an office after a weekend of anything but rest and relaxation. I was tired and hadn’t showered and needed some restful sleep. Not to be woken up three times a night by dreams of Harvey touching me. Those certainly didn’t help. 

My mind kept replaying our first time together. Specifically when he said 'Oh, Claudia, you really are that innocent, aren’t you?’ Innocent and naive… just like he said that night. Who was I to think that Harvey would take any interest in me besides the fact that I was good at being a lawyer? I wasn’t special in any way, I think he just knew that I was easy to manipulate into doing what he needed. 

There was no way in hell I’d ever do another thing for Havrey, the all powerful jackass, Specter again.

As I set my stuff on my desk, Griffin walked up. Great. Just great, what did this prick want?

“Hey umm… Hi Claudia,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I just- I’m sorry. About all the things I’ve done to you. You didn’t deserve it and I want you to know that you have always been six-times the lawyer I wish I could be. I was jealous and took it out on you. And I shouldn’t have so… I’m sorry.”

Did I just hear that right? Did Griffin Harper just apologize to me? What the fuck is going on?

“Oh,” great way to start, idiot. “Thank you, Griffin.”

He just gave me a short nod before scurrying away. Well, that was… unexpected. Certainly I couldn’t ever let us be friends, but it was nice to know he wasn’t my mortal enemy any longer. 

I went about my business, plagued with thoughts and reminders of Harvey ever which way I went. Louis and Jessica sent me an email with some files to print out so I scanned them, proofed them, and sent them to the printing room. 

God it sent a shiver down my spine to be back in here after he… don’t finish the thought don’t finish the thought-

“Hey, Claudia,” Donna snapped me out of my heated thoughts. “How are you?” “You can cut the bullshit now, Donna.”

She sighed, “it was a genuine question.” “And that was a genuine answer. I’m not in the mood.”

“Claudia-” “No, Donna. What Harvey did wasn’t okay, and I’m not going to stand here and pretend like what he did didn't hurt. Because it did and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since. I don’t need you here to remind me.”

“Have you ever considered that Harvey may want to fix it?”

“No, Donna. I haven’t. And I’m not going to,” I stood my ground, squaring off my freshly printed papers before making more copies for Louis. 

“What are you talking about?”

I scoffed. “Do you really think that I wouldn’t figure out what was going on?” “Again, what are you-” “I know Harvey just thinks that I am gullible and naive and easy to push around because he makes me nervous. And it’s true. Whenever I am near him I can’t keep myself composed and I’m sick and tired of being walked all over. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let myself see otherwise, but I’m even more upset that you didn’t come clean and tell me.” “Claudia, no one is walking over you. And I didn’t know about any of this until you told me on Friday. Harvey came to you because he knew can rely on you and your abilities to get things accomplished. He wanted the chance to work with you and get you to trust him a little. You have to know that by now,” Donna was standing right next to me, blocking my way out. 

“Maybe I do, but that doesn’t mean that I believe it. Donna, I am not some corporate power house that is gonna bring firms to their knees. Not like he does.” “Nobody does what Harvey does.” “And that’s my point,” I grit my teeth. “Harvey was trying to make me into a mini version of him, just like he did with Mike and it’s not what I want to be. Donna, I am not assertive. I am not reckless and willing to go behind peoples backs to get the job done. I like rules and regulations and the law. They are there so people abide by them, and Harvey, more often than not, doesn’t do that. Yes, I look up to him as a role model because I admire his tenacity. But that doesn’t mean I like or agree with the things he does.”

“And you think that I like it when he goes and cuts someone’s legs out from under them?”

“I didn’t say that. But that means you know how I feel. I can’t- I don’t… I don’t want to be around someone like that. It makes me feel like I’m suffocating. And worst of all he gave me his word that he wouldn’t lash out and treat me like the other associates. I cant believe that I was stupid enough to believe that Harvey would-“

Both of us stopped as someone pushed through the door. 

Harvey…

“Donna,” Harvey’s mouth was pressed in a flat line. He jerked his head over his shoulder. Donna gave me a sympathetic look and turned on her heel. Where was she going?

“Wait, Donna don’t-” I whispered.

“You’ll be fine,” she gave me a firm look, patting my shoulder as she walked around Harvey. Oh my god… she set me up.

My heart felt like it was ripping out of my fucking chest. The last thing I needed right now was to be in an enclosed space with Harvey.

He stared at me, fussing with the cufflink on his shirt. “Claudia.” “I’m sorry, Mr. Specter, but I have to get these to Louis.” I tried to go around him, like Donna had, but he just let his body fall against the wall. Blocking the way. I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him and ask him to let me go. 

“I want you to listen to me.” His voice was stern, in a demanding way, but not in a pissed off way. 

“No, I am in a rush. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Come on, Claudia. Please just talk to me. I tried to call you but you didn’t answer and-.”

“I know, but I don’t want to talk to you. I want you to get out of my way so I can go do my job.” 

“A little feisty today, aren’t we?” He pushed off his shoulder, taking a step towards me, I took one back. And another as he took one. 

“No, I need to-” “Get those copies to Louis, I heard you,” Harvey acknowledged, but didn’t stop walking closer to me. My back eventually hit a copier and I almost fell over, but Harveys arms came to either side of my body, blocking me in. “And I don’t care.”

His face was inches from mine, chest inches from mine. I felt desperate for a breath. I forgot how to think, how to appear unphased. Everything he’s taught me has vanished from my mind. His eyes, much darker in this low over-head light, seemed to pierce my soul. 

“What… What are you doing?” My voice was barely audible. 

“I want you to know that I wouldn’t ever, ever, take advantage of you like that. I can’t even believe that you would think that. You think I enjoy making you a nervous wreck? Well, I don’t. It honestly makes me sick that even after all this time, you can’t trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

“Then what is it? Because clearly I am not understanding,” his tone deepened, voice scratching in his throat. 

I couldn’t- I didn’t know how to admit to him-

“I- I umm… Mr. Specter I can’t-”

“Stop calling me that, please, Claudia. Stop seeing me as your boss for one second and see me as literally anything else.”

I swallowed. Nothing went down. “Harvey… you are… you scare me more than anyone else I’ve ever met.” “Why?” his brows knit together. “What is it about me that makes you so afraid of me?”

“Everything.” I was shaking, visibly shaking in front of him. I looked anywhere but his eyes because I knew if I did I’d crack open and bleed my heart all over him. 

His exhale was sharp enough to rustle the small hairs framing my face. “Claudia just-”

“I can’t be around you without feeling like I’m gonna drown in your presence.” 

He was stunned silent for a beat too long. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Harvey I told you I didn’t want to-”

“Please, Claudia, tell me why you are so afraid of me.” He was begging. Begging for me to explain.

“Because I know that if I let myself think for one fucking second that you actually like working with me I’ll drop my guard around you. And I cannot afford to do that because there are things I keep locked inside that I would rather take to my grave than ever let someone know.”

“And what, you don’t think I’m equally as terrified to have these feelings for you?” “Not like mine.” Harvey gave me a very concerned glance. “There, you asked me to tell you. Please just let me go.”

“No, not until you tell me what is haunting you so much you’re willing to let it eat you alive rather than just let it out for once in your life. Look, I get that you’re a private person, and it’s hard for you to trust people, but that doesn’t mean you need to keep everything bottled inside and let it rot you from the inside out-”

“For the love of guard Harvey it’s you,” I shouted, far louder than I meant to. “It is you that is driving me insane. I cannot go a single moment of my day without thinking about you. I am terrified that you are going to see right through me and figure out that every thought that goes on inside my head has to do with you because for some reason, known only by some sick and twisted higher power, I want you to see me the way I see you. I want you to want me as much as I want you and-”

I stopped because I ran out of air. And then it hit me so hard I saw stars. What the fuck have I just done? My vision began to black out, my heart beating too fast for my lungs to keep up with. 

Harvey had backed up a step, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 

I was going to throw up, I was sure of it. I tried to speak, but my mind had melted and oozed out of my ears. 

I ran, I left the copies on the floor; at some point I dropped them. And ran. His hand caught my elbow and I shrieked, whipping around just as Harvey slammed the door closed, pinning me, yet again. 

“You do not get to drop that ball and run away,” his voice had a darkness I’ve never heard. “Claudia, in what way do you want me?”

Frozen. My mind was utterly dysfunctional and useless. I couldn’t think, I’m surprised I remembered how to breathe. God his eyes…

“Claudia, please answer me.” Now his voice was tender, filled with warmth. His fingers tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You have to tell me in what way now or I’m… you have to tell me.”

“Why does it matter? I've already ruined everything I’ve had going for me.” I was meek with my words. Wimpy. Cowardice. 

“Because it matters to me.”

“I want you, I want Harvey.”

“As in you want me, and not as your boss, Claudia?” He clarified. I had to shut my eyes, to turn my cheek to him so I wouldn’t see his reaction when I nodded in confirmation. “Fucking hell…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Just… just let me go and I can hand Jessica my letter of resignation right now and you never have to see me again-”

“Are you out of your mind?” Harvey’s caramel eyes were wide. “Claudia, I don’t want you to go. Not for one fucking second. Why do you even have a letter drafted?”

“But I just-” 

His fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him when I spoke. God dammit… Harvey’s thump caressed my lip, pulling it down and watching it spring up. Slowly, ever so slowly, he dipped it inside my mouth. I couldn’t help the soft noise that startled out of me. 

“Claudia… you have no idea how much I have been praying to hear you say those words. I have been driving myself out of my mind with what to say. How to say it and I- I don’t know how to tell you everything I’ve been wanting to. For weeks now.

“I have been thinking of you nonstop. I keep making up excuses and things to come see you during the day. I want nothing more than to get the chance to treat you right, and I want you to want it too. I promised myself I wouldn’t make a move unless you made one first because I knew how petrified you were of me. I can’t- I won’t have you be afraid of me if we do this.

“But I fucked up. I got ahead of myself and I didn’t go in the direction that I should've. I should've just asked you out to dinner, been a true gentleman rather than selfish. You have no idea how long I have been practicing what to say. I just made everything so much worse. And I wish like hell I could take it all back and do it all again because I am so so so fucking sorry for breaking my promise.”

I stared up at him, at the tears spilling over his lashes, and the flush on his cheeks. His lip quivered. He looked so vulnerable. So open and honest. Every part of me wanted to take it to heart, but that voice in the back of my head was telling me not to believe it.

“Harvey I-”

“Please, Claudia,” Harvey knelt to the ground, sitting back on his heels. “I will do whatever you want to gain your trust back. Anything… anything. But I can’t let you walk away from me. I want a real chance to make you happy, to give you every part of me. I will do or say or answer whatever you want but please do not leave me. If you truly don’t want me, tell me, and we never have to talk again. I will make it like I was never here in the first place if you told me to, but I don't think you want that. And I don’t want it either.”

Harvey was on his knees. Begging me to open my heart up to him. 

“Please don’t make me regret this, Harvey…”

He let out a breath, and a smile accompanied the tears that fell down his face. He reached for my hand, and I let him grab it. His fingers were warm and smooth in mine, familiar and comforting as he gently tugged me towards him. 

“I'm so sorry, Claudia. I will regret nothing more than the words I said to you. But I want to fix it, I want to be better. Not just for you, but for myself. But you are what makes me want to be better. I need to learn to control myself and take a page out of my own book to make that happen.”

Harvey rested his head on my stomach, and I let my fingers thread through his spiky hair. 

“But I don’t want you to be afraid of me anymore. I can’t- I won’t let you be afraid to ask me a question. I want to be there for you, work related or not, but I can’t do it if you don’t meet me halfway. I do remember you making me a promise back, to not see me as a monster.”

My hand stopped, and he looked up. I wanted to agree, but I was still upset, and he must’ve seen that. 

“Okay, that was a bad time to bring that up.”

“Yup.” 

Harvey huffed a laugh, standing back up. His smile was sweet, his finger gentle as it swept some hair away from my face. 

“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, Claudia Olivia Martin.”

“How did you find out my middle name?”

“Donna,” he smiled wider. I just rolled my eyes. “I don’t really know how to do any of this, so I asked her for some help. I knew I had to do it myself. I just didn’t really know where to start and she’s… well, she’s Donna.” “Yes, she is Donna,” I smiled up at him. “But it’s gonna take me more than that to convince me.”

“Oh I have like seven other things lined up and ready to go. If you'd like to hear them. First, you are the most stunning, breathtaking, gorgeous woman I have ever met in my life. Second, I admire every part of you. All your good habits, your bad, your anxious thoughts and brave approach to life. Because they all make you you. Three, I am the biggest fucking idiot. For starting all of this off wrong, for yelling at you. For leading you to believe that I just wanted to get in your pants.”

“You’re also an asshole. A bit of a coward and a bitch. Did I say that you were an asshole?”

“Okay okay,” he placed his hands on my hips and I let him, doing nothing to hide the giggle that bubbled out. “Yes, I am all of those things. And, for the record, I did want to get in your pants, just not that way.”

“Of course you did, who could resist all of this?” My heart sped up when he looked at me over, a huge grin spreading his cheeks wide and bright. 

“Looks like you’ve gained a little confidence, huh?”

“Well, I did have a not so awful teacher. That was before he betrayed me.” “Are you gonna stop rubbing salt into the wound?”

I faked a ponder, “Nope.”

“Claudia,” he pressed a tentative kiss to my cheek, then gauged my response before placing one on the other. “Olivia,” another kiss. “Martin.” He kissed my forehead, then the tip of my nose. “I will never be able to take back what I said, but I hope you find it in your heart to give me a second chance. Even good people are great at making bad decisions. I know I can be a better man, and I know you know that too. Just one,” a kiss to my left cheek, “More,” right cheek, “Chance.”

His lips hovered over mine, waiting for permission before he pressed them into mine. My heart was beating so fast. So strong, all because of him. All for him. 

My eyes met his, “Okay, Harvey.”

Those devastating eyes ignited. His smile grew so wide I got lost in it with my own. I was pressed flat to him, my hands on his shoulders, his hands on my lower back. My ears were buzzing with my pulse and I hoped he felt how fast it was. Who knew Harvey had such a way with words? I wondered how long he practiced all of this in the mirror. Who knows, maybe he was secretly a hopeless romantic and-

“Claudia,” Harvey snapped me out of my daydream. 

“Hmm?” “Please tell me I can kiss you.”

Oh. Right. 

“And what if I say no?”

“Then I won’t.”

“And if I say yes?” “I’ll make sure it is the best damn kiss you’ve ever and will ever have.”

Sounds pretty good to me. I pressed up on my toes, arms wrapping around his neck, and finally let our lips say hello. It had been too long, It felt so right, so perfect. And I realized it felt like all the other times we’ve kissed; I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. I wanted to kiss Harvey. Harvey goddamn Specter. 

I should find out what his middle name is from Donna to surprise him. 

“Come over tonight,” he blurted out.

“What?” “Come over, let me cook something for you. We can make it our first date. A real date. Let me start this off on the right foot. Unless tonight is too soon and you need more time to heal and process or-”

“Just stop talking,” I literally put my fingers over his mouth. “I’d love to come over for dinner, Harvey.”

If I hadn’t been in his arms I’m sure he’d jump up and down out of excitement. He kissed me again, and again, and again. The slight stubble on his chin tickled my neck enough for me to tuck down into my shoulders when he kissed below my ear. 

“Hey, Claudia, I just want to make sure- oh. Well, this seems to be going well,” Donna had a proud smile on her face, arms crossed over her chest.

“It is,” Harvey beamed down, never taking his eyes off of me. 

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.”

“How much of this was your idea?” I asked. 

“I suggested he get a horse and carriage to surprise you on your way out but he knew you wouldn’t want a grand gesture,” She said. “So I think that should say it well enough as to who came up with all the ideas.” When I looked back at him, he had a flush to his cheeks, and hid his grin. 

“Wow, Harvey, I’m impressed.” “Well,” he shrugged. “I don’t know… I wanted it to be authentic and special. Something that you would take to heart and genuinely appreciate. So it’s the best I could come up with over the weekend because if I didn’t do it soon I was going to explode.”

“Seriously, Claudia. This idiot wouldn’t leave my house for two days. I had to kick him out so he could get a shower and change. Did you even sleep?” “You haven’t slept?” He shook his head. “Harvey, what- okay. We need to do our dinner another day because if you try to cook you might set your house on fire and that would-” “Nope, too bad. I’m fine, really Claudia. I can handle making dinner. I’ll leave early and take a nap if that would make you feel better.” “Yes, it would,” I sighed out, looking back at Donna who had a look that meant trouble. “What?” “You guys are adorable.”

I blushed. “Oh, wait! Before you go, what’s Harvey’s middle name? I mean, he went to you for mine so it’s only fair…”

“Don’t you dare,” Harvey pointed at Donna who all but melted the Wicked Witch of the West with her smirk.

“Reginald.”

“Reginald?” I repeated. “Seriously?”

“It’s a family name, alright?” He defended. “Now, if you two will excuse me I have a very important dinner to plan for an even more important girl. Donna, can you-” “Already cleared your schedule.”

“Remind me to give you a raise.” “Oh I’ve already written a bonus check, it just needs your signature.” “I’m surprised you didn’t forge it,” I snickered. 

“I would’ve but having Harvey do it makes it that much more satisfying.”

Harvey just shook his head, but smiled at us both. “I’ll see you tonight, is seven good?” “Sounds perfect,” I nodded, relishing in his warmth as he pressed one more kiss to the top of my head before leaving. 

“So,” Donna swayed on her feet. “I take it that things went well?” “Yeah, yeah it did. I was surprised, today has been so weird. Even Griffin apologized to me.” “Griffin? Really?” “Yeah,” I followed in step behind her towards the bullpen. “He genuinely apologized to me. It was so unexpected. Now this… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dreading this happening. But it turned out way better than I expected so I can’t complain. I need to stop expecting the worst case scenario all the time and believe that I can handle anything that comes at me.”

“Now that sounds like true growth and confidence,” Donna slung her arm over my shoulder. “And definitely something Harvey couldn’t have taught you.” “No, he didn’t. That was all on my own.”

___

As I packed up to head home for the day, my stomach was on fire with nerves about tonight. Not nerves, excitement. 

“Hey, Claudia,” Griffin caught up to me right before the elevator closed. “Do you want to join us for drinks tonight?”

I just smirked. “Sorry, Griffin. I can’t, I have a date with Harvey Specter.” And I let the door shut before he could get on.

____

This building. For fucks sake his front door cost more than what I make in a year, probably. The door man had given me a bit of a side eye when I asked to be let up to Harvey. Well, here I was. 

The bottle of wine in my hand wasn’t getting any colder as I paced outside of his apartment. Was I making this a bigger deal than it needed it to be? Most definitely. 

I knocked. 

Harvey opened it a few moments later, a smug look on his face. “I was wondering how long you were going to just stand there.”

God dammit. The heat rose up my neck and I looked away. “Just shut up and take the wine.”

He chuckled, plucking it from my grasp before stepping aside to let me in. I gazed up and into his hallway, following it down to the kitchen. Woah… holy windows. The already set sun lit up the sky with blues and purples, making all of this feel very cinematic. 

“You didn’t need to bring this, Claudia,” Harvey smiled nonetheless. 

“I just- I don’t know, isn't that what people do when they’re invited over?”

“Why are you still so nervous?” 

Right to it, I guess. “What makes you say that?” “Well,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was wearing all black. He looked… too good for his own good. Or mine for that matter of fact. “For starters, you’ve clearly been running your fingers through your hair. Second, I’ve watched you fiddle with that string on your sleeve at least four times now.”

My fingers ceased their motion. I had been toying with it. “I like to keep my hands busy.”

“I call it a nervous habit.”

“Did you invite me here for dinner or just to pick on me for being anxious?” 

“You have no reason to be anxious here,” he crept closer, taking my hand in his. Harvey gently kissed the back of my fingers. “There is no one here to watch, no prying eyes to hide from. It’s just me, Claudia.”

“And that is precisely what makes me nervous,” I did let a laugh bubble up. “But, you’re right. I guess there is no reason to be so… terrified.”

“Good,” he smiled, placing his hands on my hips. I let mine fall around his shoulders. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” I turned to look behind me, a few pots and a pan of vegetables on the stove. Harvey’s hands still lingered on my sides as I peered over to look inside.

“I didn’t know the great Harvey Specter could cook,” I jabbed, making him roll his eyes playfully. “It looks lovely, thank you.”

“Told you, there’s more to the name than the title it comes with.”

From the table, I watched him plate the stir fry dish and bring it over. I was starving, and I made sure to eat my lunch a little later so I wouldn’t be ravenous by the time this dinner rolled around. I wasted no time taking a forkful and practically inhaling it. 

“I’ll take that as a good sign?” 

I nodded, “It’s amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this?” “Here and there. My brother owns a bar and restaurant back home, we used to like to cook together all the time.” “I didn’t know you had a brother,” I tilted my head. “That’s amazing, though. Glad you put those skills to good use.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

I hummed, “Yeah I have two brothers. I’m the baby of the family.”

“Am I going to have to win their trust one day?” 

My laugh echoed through the spacious dining room, “No, they’re pretty cool. Vince, my oldest brother, is married, has two kids who are in college. My other brother, Caleb, is the one you’ve gotta watch out for. He’s my twin and very vocal about the men in my life, especially when he doesn’t think they’re good enough for me.”

“I see,” Harvey gave me a look I knew all too well. 

“Yeah, he can be a pain in my ass sometimes. But I love him, he always stood up for me when I was too afraid. Whether someone was picking on me in school or tried to get one up on me at a bar, he was always there. He’s just protective of me, they both are, but Caleb… he’s always had my back.” “It’s good to have those types of people on your side,” Harvey’s smile was so bright. 

For about an hour we ate and had dessert. I don’t know how, he probably asked Donna, but he had my absolute favorite chocolate cake. Coated in a thick butter cream, it practically melted in my mouth. I wasn’t shy about telling him how delicious it was. 

“I could marry this cake,” I knew I was being dramatic, but I didn’t care. “If I could take this cake, and mold it in the shape of a man, I would.”

Harvey grinned, looking from the cake on his plate, back up to me as I spooned another mouthful. He dipped his finger in the frosting and swiped it across his cheek. I blushed, so hard, and he just laughed and laughed. 

“You think you’re funny, huh?” I had to put my face in my hands. 

“I do, actually. Why don’t you come over here and clean it off for me,” Harvey spoke dangerous words. I raised my eyebrow in question, but he merely scooted his chair back in response, palms turned upward. 

Now or never, I thought. 

I stood, my bare feet padding quietly to Harvey. This is where I had confidence. Could use his own game against him. Because up until this point, all Harvey knows about me is that I am a nervous wreck in front of him. 

The cards have no longer been dealt in his favor. 

I swung my leg over his, perching on his thigh. I took my thumb and ran it across his face, collecting the decorative icing off his cheek, licking my thumb clean. His eyes tracked my movements, especially when I stuck out my tongue and showed him the mess.

His throat bobbed, and his eyes darkened. 

“Where did that shy, blushing Claudia go?” Harvey’s voice sent a chill down my spine. 

“Away, for now,” I smirked. “There are plenty of versions of Claudia you haven’t met before.”

“And who exactly is this version?” He asked.

“That depends,” I huffed. “Are you going to let me have what I want or are you going to make me earn it?”

Harvey’s hands crept up my thighs, cupping my ass gently. “You’re gonna let me choose?”

“You better choose carefully.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” I said. “You can either let me take what I want, or try to take what you want. But I’ll let it be known, that isn’t possible. You won’t be able to resist me long enough to uphold that promise.”

“Oh, you think I’m that easy?” Harvey countered, tightening his hold on my body. I let out a whine, enticing him into my game further. 

“I don’t know, Harvey.” I ran my hand down his chest, grinding back and forth on his thigh. I leaned close to his ear, “I can be your every fantasy or your worst nightmare.”

I pulled away from his body, taking a few steps back and towards another hallway. I assumed that’s where his bedroom was, and judging by the screeching of the chair against the floor, I was heading in the right direction. 

The first door I pushed open was, thankfully, the right room. His clothes were hung up neatly in the closet on the opposite side of the room, the city below shining onto the walls. Harvey shut the door quickly, turning on a lamp beside his bed. 

Harvey grinned like the devil and crushed his mouth to mine. I didn’t waste any time letting his tongue tangle with mine. Harvey kissed like the god he was, like a true emperor. He tasted like pure sin, like the cake we were just sharing.

My hands went to the buttons on his shirt, fitting them through the tiny holes and pushing it off his shoulders. 

“Mmm wait, sweetheart,” Harvey broke our lips apart. “I don’t wanna do it this way tonight. Let me take care of you. Please.”

Well, when he sounded like that, who was I to resist him? I let him lay me down, his body between my legs as he placed the most tender kiss on my lips. He moved down my chest, slowly lifting my shirt and placing his mark on my stomach. Up my chest, and my neck. 

“You are so beautiful, Claudia. And I can’t believe I get to have all of you to myself. I can’t wait to make you feel so good.”

I sighed out, letting my eyes close as he explored my body. He was forward with his choices, but he wasn’t ever harsh. He was so soft. So loving and so caring. No one had ever made me feel equally nervous or excited as Harvey did. But now… I wasn’t afraid of him. I don’t think I could ever again. 

“Is it okay if I take these off?” “I wasn’t sure you knew how to ask for permission,” I giggled. He just scowled, but I nodded. “Of course, Harvey. Do whatever you want.” “Don’t-” he swallowed. “Don’t say things like that when I am trying to be sweet and nice to you.”

“I think you’re forgetting that I like it when you manhandle me,” I smiled up to the ceiling before looking at him between my legs. “Sorry, carry on.”

He laid a not so gentle tap to the inside of my thigh before removing my skirt. The chill of the air spread goosebumps across my skin, even more when he placed kisses from my ankle to my hips bone. 

“God I could spend all day between your legs. They’re so perfect,” he praised, spreading them wide so he could fit his torso between them. “You’re so fucking hot, Claudia.” I flushed, beet red, and turned away from him. But his fingers brought me right back. 

“You don’t get to be shy now, sweetheart. Not tonight, let me see all of you.”

“I’m all yours Harvey.” Our eyes locked, and the sparks flew. His lips were on mine, hurried, but not starving. It was intense and passionate and everything I could’ve asked it to be. He lifted my shirt over my head and slipped off my bra from behind. Thankfully his chest was warm against mine.

From one second to the next, Harvey swooped me on top of him and rolled, tugging the sheet with him. When they were freed, he laid me back down and put them over his body. 

“Oh, guess I should get these off,” he grinned, pushing his jeans down his thighs, his briefs going with them. Man… what a sight to behold. Harvey wasn’t shredded, but it was clear his boxing habits kept him in good shape. 

There was something about him that just made me want to crumble and fold. 

Harvey’s lips were hot as they moved all over me, nipping and biting and leaving tiny marks here and there. Before he could lose all his resolve, he reached over to his bedside table and plucked a foil packet from a little jar. Classy. 

“Doing okay, sweetheart?” He smoothed down my hair. 

“Yes, Harvey. I’d be better if…” I locked my legs around his middle, pulling him to me. “You just got on with it.” “Such an impatient little thing,” his grin gave away his facade. 

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re not craving this as much as I am.” “You’re right,” he smirked, lining up and pushing all the way in. a low groan escaped his flushed lips. “But I know you can’t get enough of this.”

I breathed heavily, clinging to him. His hips stirred, slowly pulling back, and sinking all the way in. Harvey rested his head on my shoulder, tongue making patterns on my ignited skin. I tugged at his hair, lips working on their own to find all his sweet spots. 

I raked my nails up his back, not missing when his hips slowed and he moaned. So I did it again. His thumb found its way between my legs and circled around where I wanted it most. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to take care of me. 

Harvey took his time, making sure that I was feeling good and got what I wanted. This was so different from the feverish moments we’ve had in the office. But it was somehow way better. Well, it could use one thing.

As he laced our fingers together, I moved our hands up. He stopped kissing me for a moment to give me a puzzled look. But I slipped his grip from mine and placed his hand on my throat. 

“I don’t need you to go all ‘sir’ on me tonight, but just give me this. Please.” I did the best I could with my eyes to lure him in, and it worked. It tightened, but it was never tight. It was just there, a reminder of the part of him I was going to get to see whenever I wanted. 

He started to let his control slip, and I knew it was hard for him to be so gentle. But I appreciated it so much. I let some of my control slip as well, just because I wanted to rile him up. His breath quickened, and so did his hips. His thumb was relentless between my legs and I could feel my high approaching.

“Come on, sweetheart, let go. Make yourself feel so good for me.” There it was, the Harvey that kept me up at night. That has plagued my dreams for the past few days. 

I met his hips with mine, and my release crashed over me when I wasn’t expecting it. I shook in his arms as he continued to move, chasing his own time. 

“Fuck, Harvey,” I gasped. “Let go for me, you did such a good job making me feel good.”

He cursed, tucking his head down momentarily before crushing his mouth to mine, not shy about how I was making him feel. His body went rigid, and the praise streamed out of his mouth.

“Fuck fuck Claudia… god you feel so good. You are so perfect for me. So soft and warm.”

My lips would surely be bruised tomorrow morning, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was being here with Harvey. About carrying him through the aftershocks of his release. I rubbed at his back, kissed his neck and cheeks. When he lifted his head, he had this dreamy look on his face. 

“You look so hot,” he ran his thumb across my cheek, bringing me in for another kiss. “Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

“I’m glad I decided to do it. I can’t decide which Harvey I like more. This one or the one who calls me sweetheart.”

“Did I not call you sweetheart tonight?” “You did, but not the way you do when I call you ‘sir’.”

“Ahh, I see,” he smirked. “As much as I would like to think that I could flip a switch right now, I don’t want to spoil this moment with you.”

“If you don’t want to spoil it, then you should take us into the shower.”

And then I was in the shower. Hot water streaming between us from the rain shower head. His hands were soft as he kneaded my body; they particularly felt nice on my ass, especially when he added his lips to the mix. 

“You are so amazing, Claudia. I cannot stress that enough.” “You’re doing an amazing job,” I smiled, kissing him. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I know,” he grinned, smacking my ass before lathering up his hands and running them through my hair. It was hard to not fall asleep standing up. “Sweetheart, if you keep making those noises it is going to be very very hard to not take you right here.”

My eyes flew open, his very apparent arousal pressing into my backside. Well, alright then. Go Claudia, you sexy son of a bitch!

“And who’s to say that I wouldn’t want that?” “I am trying to hold back, you know. I wanted tonight to be different, to be special. I didn’t want it to be heated and rough and-”

“Harvey,” I turned, pressing a hand to his chest. “I know.” “I wanted to ‘make love’ or whatever they call it in those cheesy romance books you read.”

I laughed out loud, picturing Harvey curled up on the couch with a book in his hand, a fire in the fireplace. “Nobody says ‘making love’ any more, babe.” “Babe?” “Yeah, babe. I figured you wouldn’t like sugar, or honey bun, or baby for that matter.”

“Don’t make me sound older than I am, please. For fucks sake I passed the Bar when you were in highschool.”

“It doesn’t bother me all that much anymore,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I thought it would, but it doesn’t really make a difference to me.”

“Good, I’m glad it doesn’t freak you out,” he smiled. “And, for the record, I hope it doesn’t freak your folks out.”

“It won’t.”

He lifted up a brow, “How could you know?” “Because I already told them about you.” I felt him go tight. “Relax. They knew who you were already and they couldn’t have been more excited that I found a caring, respectful, well respected man.”

He let out a sigh, “and your brothers?” “They don’t know yet, but don’t worry about them, either. It will be okay.”

“When did you become the consoling one? It’s weird.” “I know, right?” I giggled. When I looked into his eyes, there was a fondness to his gaze. He was looking at my body, but not in a way he had before. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Harvey shrugged, “I just love you so much, Claudia. And I am so proud of how far you’ve come in just these first couple of months.”

My heart hitched in my chest, then beat so wildly I wasn’t entirely sure it didn’t burst through my skin and land in his hands. I froze. Mike had been right. Harvey wasn’t just some cock, high strung New York attorney that couldn’t decipher his own feelings. He seemed incredibly in tune with his emotions and that couldn’t be more attractive. 

I just kissed him. I didn’t know what else to do other than kiss him. He had to take a step back to support our combined weight. Harvey’s arms were strong around my waist, his lips reassuring and just as firm as his grip. 

“I love you too, Harvey. So fucking much.”

____

The comforters pulled tight, Harvey's body pressed behind mine… I couldn’t think of a more relaxing way to end the night. Especially after I slipped to my knees in the shower and showed him just how much I loved him. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming about having you in my arms one night. All night long.”

I hummed, scooting back so his chest met my back, his legs molding with mine. “I may have fantasized about it once or twice as well.” “Have you now?” “Again, there are several versions of Claudia you haven’t met before.” “And I look forward to coaxing every single one of them out with my mouth… my tongue… my hands… my-”

“Tomorrow,” I whispered, letting my eyes lull shut. “We can do it all again tomorrow. On the table, on the counter, on the couch-” “You’re not helping the situation here, you know,” he tugged at my half-dried hair. “Don’t get me started, sweetheart. I just might not let you get any sleep tonight.”

I clenched my thighs together. This was going to be such a sweet, tortuous game to play. And I got to play it every day. Every night, if I wanted. He wouldn’t be able to resist me. I had a secret weapon.

“Whatever you say, sir.”

His hand was wrapped around my throat, forcing my head to turn back to look at him. He clicked his tongue, eyes more awake than they had been a few minutes ago. “Oh sweet, innocent little Claudia. I guess you haven’t learned your lesson yet. It’s okay, I’d be happy to give you more instruction. I think I recall saying that eventually I would break you down over and over again until all you could remember was my name and how to breathe. Well, sweetheart. What do you think? Because I think you can still form coherent thoughts. I think it’s time we change that, don’t you?” I nodded, “Yes.”

His grip tightened and tightened and tightened. “Yes what?”

I smirked, climbing into his lap and taking him into my hand. “Yes, sir.”

[fluffy-alien]

do hazbin for the meme!

Kisses you on the forehead. Thank you. ❤️

Who's the most ticklish character:

I just want to say all of them!!! That's like picking a favourite!

My twisted little heart is thinking about Lucifer. Most powerful being in Hell, brought to his knees by a little fluttering? Who doesn't love that trope?!

I think he's one big ticklish spot; and Charlie definitely took after him in that regard. The apple doesn't fall far. ❤️

Who's the character that most people would assume is ticklish, but actually isn't:

They're all ticklish. Don't come here with that nonsense.

Who's the character that everyone gangs up on and tickles:

Sir Pentious! My little guy! This man can't catch a goddamn break. I think his friends(found family aw) gangs up on him quite frequently. He just makes it so easy. Actively turning all the way around to look away, whenever anyone tickles someone in the hotel. He can't stand the sight! It makes his whole body tingle! And if he looks, he looks hard. It makes everyone uncomfortable. You're unsettling, Pent!

His friends gang up on him if he stares too hard. Let him have his fill, even if he screams and claims he isn't at all ticklish! He hates it, in fact(no he doesn't).

Who's the character that somehow knows everyone else's tickle spots and reveals them to others:

I feel like Vox has gained that nugget of information by happenstance. He has camera's everywhere in Hell, and has everything filed away accordingly. I don't think he's a freak about it, but if he finds out that someone he has beef with is ticklish, he will either use it as blackmail or just straight up broadcast it, as if anyone else but him gives a shit. He's petty as hell. He shares the information with Velvette as well, so she can post about it on Sinstergram. You know she lives for public humiliation.

Who's the character with one specific tickle spot that only one other person knows about:

My first thought was Niffty being close enough to Alastor to know this. But while they're very sweet together, the honor goes to Rosie. Sweet Rosie is handsy as hell with Al, and you can't convince me that he hasn't had her hands in his hair. Gracing her long fingernails over his ears; hearing a stiffled snort as a reward. No one must know. Rosie is chatty and loves some hot gossip, but this one thing she has sworn to secrecy. She loves dear Al too much to embarrass him like that. But you know she has gone for the kill a couple of times; just to remind him who he's sassing at.

Who's the most likely to win gang tickle wars:

My heart says Angel, but my brain says Alastor. Angel because six arms isn't something to sneeze at. And he's way more likely to engage.

But Alastor has his tentacles... Yeah. He would wreck shop. He just doesn't play that game very often. But holy shit, is he smug about it when he does. Tickle king.

Which character has a kink for tickling:

Valentino. Hello. The man who wears all the hats. I think every character is plenty capable of having a tickle kink, but I'm putting my money on the moth. You want soft and sweet? You came to the wroooong place! He sucks. Doesn't believe in safe words. It's just tickling. Don't be dramatic.

Which character didn't even know they were ticklish until another character tickled them:

Sweet Husk. Oh, I love him. Not really into the whole... Physical affection thing(yeah, right). While I have a hard time believing that he went through life never getting tickled, maybe he isn't aware of his demon form still being ticklish. And it might've startled him when Angel(of course) graced his fingers over the pads in his hand. Angel didn't catch on then, be he for sure found out later and felt cheated out of so many lost opportunities to tickle his precious bartender! The absolute audacity to keep that secret!

Which two characters have tickle fights all the time:

It's a tie between Charlie and Vaggie / Angel and Cherri!

Charlie instigates tickle fights every goddamn night before bed and I can't be convinced otherwise. She'll get hyperactive when she gets ready for bed, and needs a few minutes of dumb fun before she can get some sleep. Vaggie would pretend she hated it, but has since accepted Charlie's routine and even instigates a fight, if she happens to get into her pajamas, before Charlie. Plus, it's nice to help Charlie relax after a stressful day of rehabilitation.

Angel and Cherri trusts each other with their lives(quite literally) and that also means that they trust each other with their most secret spots.

Angel is unmatched in tickle fights! Six arms comes to good use; but he doesn't always use all six, only because he wants to at least give Cherri a fighting chance to win. She rarely does, tho. Cherri is explosive in her personality and loves to start shit, even if she knows she'll lose. Angel has since pointed it out and teases her about wanting to get wrecked.

She started fighting back with more vigor after that. She isn't allowed to touch his feet tho. Fuck off.

[ranticore]

happy anniversary STBH!! i bought both books while on a week break and read them both in two days voraciously despite my phone failing to decipher the epub files (squinting at a 200x zoomed pdf is a painful way to read but it was so worth it). i am periodically rotating the characters round my mind like the hypothetical apple number 1. Cain especially has been placed in my little mental cabinet of curiosity that i drop by during quiet hours to think about. love that man. number one cain fan. chewing him like an interesting stick. i love every other character as well though theyre all so fascinating and v human

anyway all this ramble to say i love your works and im patiently waiting for the moth release. ur prose is so lovely and i love love love the way you interpret folklore and mythology and your art

question for the stbh gang: what actually are their daemons? i know felix has estibarith the swan but im so curious as to the rest...

omg noo i'm so sorry the epub didn't work! i know you already suffered through it but for anyone else with this issue, i have a recommendation for google books app (if using android) but even if that doesn't work, you can always contact me and we can make something more readable (like a pdf with big font or something) that fits

i'm so happy that cain resonates with people, that old man is a favourite of mine even if i did forget to change his name from the original placeholder (whoops). he's a lil fucked up now but his story is far from over

as for tha daemons..

Islin: i narrowed it down to two potentials?? That i kind of bounce between. I tend to lean more towards a polled bull than anything else - a same-sex daemon which would be the only one in the cast i think, which i tried to parallel in pern story with him being the only one who doesn't match the canon rules for rider sexuality & dragon colour. but regardless the daemon is called Tarannach and the overall symbolism is a massive powerful dominant animal who is nonetheless "de-fanged" in some way (polled cattle naturally lack horns!) and appears more peaceful as a result. Tarannach is wilful and domineering, disagrees with Islin frequently (before Islin has his spine-growing moments), and unapologetically takes up space. would also be a massive inconvenience in day to day life but that's kind of the point. Before settling as a bull, Tarannach went through phases of wanting to be smaller and smaller.

Bowman has a dog daemon. It just has to be that way, there's no getting around it. I joked around that she would be a poodle but actually I would lean more towards a collie instead, a herding type. Something that looks rough and ready but is actually surprisingly high maintenance. Her name is Nell/Nellie. Her personality is irreverent, never takes anything seriously. She turns into a feral animal during the full moon.

We know Estibariz is a swan but some more about her - she wanted to be a lioness, something big and fierce, and Félix insisted that she would probably end up a serpent or a fox, something with connotations of being a sneaky liar, and he felt that when she did settle, it would be an externalisation of some inner ugliness he never wanted anyone else to see. when she did settle she enjoyed a big I Told You So. When he was taken by Puck and spat out again, she returned as a form-shifting daemon again, and had gained the ability to separate from him and travel long distances. She never shapeshifted willingly though. The first person to touch Estibariz aside from Félix was Bowman. The second person was Helena.

Clarion is the only one whose daemon was actually, for real, a horse. His name was Drey and he was a dapple grey draft breed.

Senca is obviously a witch so also had a daemon who could travel far from her. He was a bird, I thought maybe a nightjar or collared dove. Never got that far in the au so didn't pick a name. We'll just call him Namiliyath

Léa's was a thorny devil

Jean's is a ferret and her name is Missy. It looks like it could potentially be an ermine, a symbol of nobility, but no. It's a common hunting animal, white with black eyes.

Erica's is a magpie

Pascal does not have a daemon. There's something there that looks very swanlike, but it speaks with his voice. In a human au, it's a golden eagle.

I don't think I made anything for other characters, again I never got that far writing it

[deusvervewrites]

Ask Game: Mr.Compress and Midoriya meet before canon, Mr. Compress takes them under his wing to complete the heist of 2 centuries, stealing All for One. (Interaction with Midoriya also stops most of Compress' clownery) (Also, Midoriya's "stage" identity is "Miss Direction". It definitely does not become a gender thing. (it does).

The news breaks about a massive security leak that outed a bunch of the faculty at Aldera as being sympathetic to Destro's movement, earning the interest of Mr. Compress. After all, the leak wasn't some digital hack, but the physical theft of various files. He has to see who's living up to his ancestor's legacy.

It is, of course, Midoriya. And unfortunately, his first caper was not exactly the cleanest. Luckily, Compress got there first and disposed of the incriminating evidence pointing to Midoriya and then introduced himself properly, offering to mentor him. While most people would be alarmed at a strange criminal tracking you down to teach you to crime better, Midoriya is rather short on positive relationships and accepts easily.

Compress is approached by Giran about being part of the League of Villain's upcoming raid on UA (Note: this is still a few years before the USJ attack would happen; AFO was recruiting in advance). Compress turns this down to focus on Midoriya's growth. While discussing this with Midoriya and the possibility of AFO's involvement, Midoriya suddenly realizes there is in fact a guy out there who has Quirks that Midoriya can take for himself so he won't be Quirkless anymore. Compress likes his audacity.

Over the next year, the two of them get into so many Villain/Vigilante hijinks while preparing for the AFO Heist. This is when Midoriya debuts his Miss Direction persona, which is definitely solely to protect his secret identity and not at all because he's always wanted to wear a dress and be pretty. It is during this time that the two of them start forming those connections with the various future UA students.

All this work pays off and earns them the attention of All For One and Garaki, who offer Miss Direction to undergo the All For One Copy implanting procedure instead of Nine, who will presumably die of clowning too hard but who cares. Unlike Nine, Midoriya's previously Quirkless body handles the copied Quirk perfectly, resulting in him not having the same Quirk limit that Nine canonically had.

+1. Thanks to Miss Direction being a secret identity, nobody in UA knows that she and Midoriya are the same person, leaving Midoriya extremely embarrassed whenever their classmates gush about her. Especially because Toga is openly crushing on Miss Direction.

+2. Midoriya doesn't figure out why she likes being Miss Direction so much for a long time, misunderstanding the euphoria as coming from basically being in a Hero Costume with a Hero Persona. Yes, even after she starts using a shapeshifting Quirk to really 'get into character.'

+3. Midoriya's attempts to cover for their secret identity leaves everyone convinced that Miss Direction has a crush on them.

For Fem!Midoriya, I'm going with the name Kumiko (久美子). That first kanji, 久, is the same as the one in Izuku (出久), which wasn't strictly necessary, but that's the kanji that happens to be the pun on the Japanese word for Nine and if Horikoshi is going all in on these shitty puns then so am I. Of course, since this pun is a homophone, any Ku sound would work.

[agent-calivide]

IEYTD 3 Theory

I fully plan on making a full blown theory video compiling all of my evidence, HOWEVER, I am also an impatient bitch who wants to be able to say "I called it" in case this ends up taking a month to make or something like that- so enjoy a new textwall :)

MAJOR IEYTD 3 SPOILERS

In the latest game, you can find seven coins known as phantom coins that are left by a mysterious person known only as the Phantom. Six of them are hidden in each level and then one additional one you find in your main hub that you unlock after beating the game. Getting all the coins reveals a note left by the phantom that reads: “It seems you’re as good as they say, Phoenix. They used to say I was good, too. But I made a choice. And before they get you killed, I hope you realize you have the same choice: to die or to live.”

At the bottom there's a code that reads “I Expect You To Live” when deciphered. There's also notably a line from the Handler where he comments on how the person who gets those coins where they need to be has to be even stealthier than Phoenix, which is impressive since Phoenix is the top agent currently.

But it wasn’t always that way. Phoenix has only recently risen to Agency Fame, there was an agent that was number one before them, and we know who it is. At the end of every level in IEYTD 3, we open in a board room of sorts, looking down at our office in the Babadag EOD base, and to the side of us there’s a wall of portraits, all of various important figureheads of the EOD. The director, the our handler, doctor Prism, etcetera, but one of them is missing. Snoop around, and you find a portrait of a young, brunette woman, V. Vitti, reveled to be Valeri Vitti if you play with subtitles on, and she is labeled as the lead field agent. The previous number one.

Between the fact that she was taken off the wall and hidden, it didn’t take long to conclude that VV was the Phantom, supported by the fact that the star icon that’s associated with the phantom looks like two interlocking V’s. Valeri Vitti.

Now we know who the phantom is, but that doesn’t really do much for us story wise other than maybe the promise of facing our predecessor in a future game, how does a character that’s never been mentioned even in passing until now really pack a narrative punch? Except, the phantom has been there, even if she was never mentioned.

In the first game, in operation Winter Break, we see a portrait of a young brunette woman in Zor’s office. The very same woman who’s in a group photo with all of the other figureheads, V. Vitti. I’ve seen a lot of people conclude that this means that either Vitti is Zor, or she’s working with Zor, but I don’t personally buy it.

When it comes to her being Zor, it doesn’t really make sense. Zor is shown to be very protective of their identity, not only using voice modulators any time they talk to Phoenix, but also using the neutral terms “they/them” according to the devs in the official discord. As far as I know, this has not changed, even if Schell uses “he” on occasion while talking about the game in interviews. Functionally, when talking about the context of the games and what we’ve been presented, we aren’t supposed to know anything about Zor. Race, gender, age, it’s all up in the air, a nebulous void of information. And we’re supposed to think this person? Who has hidden their identity to the point of having a completely blank file with nothing but “confidential” slapped all over it also has a massive portrait of themselves in their office? Not only that, but in their office that’s primed to go off with traps in case an agent gets in? It seems reckless at best, and honestly really out of character to me.

Zor having an egotistical display of themselves in their office is more like something Juniper would do. Zor isn’t one to lavish themselves in attention and make themselves the focus of anything. They only come out of the shadows when things get serious. Phoenix interrupting the peacekeeper, finding their hidden lab where they ran the kinesium experiments that could foil their entire plot, getting to Operation K-Boom and working with Prism to thwart their other major scheme. They wouldn’t just have their whole identity on display and risk losing their anonymity. But you know what it does look like? A photo of a loved one on your desk. It’s quite common in offices, be it corporate or cubical, to have photos of your loved ones to get you through the day, to remember what you’re doing it for while you’re making a thousand spreadsheets and wanting to bash your head into your desk. It’s a way to have a piece of yourself and what you care about at work.

So Zor knows the Phantom but isn’t her, why would they not be working together in that case? After all, the Phantom seems just on keen on getting Phoenix off the field as Zor, isn’t that a good sign that they have the same goals?

Not exactly.

Zor shows such contempt for Phoenix, they want that agent dead, and they want it to be as soon as possible. They don’t want Phoenix off the field by any means necessary, even if that’s a comfy retirement, they want them gone. Out of the picture, they celebrate when Phoenix dies. If you look at the coroner report, there’s a note in the corner from Zor that says they understand if people want to take time to celebrate. Zor, the person who has crummy escape pods for their workers that frequently lead to their Operatives getting killed, has little qualms about dropping their scientists into fiery infernos over who knows how minor of an infraction, has their workers in the mines do inhumanly long shifts and simply won’t let them leave, and in some cases outright lies to their workers and leaves them abandoned at work sites like Ollie in the underwater lab, gives permission for their workers to party, if for a short while, in the event of the death of the Phoenix.

That goes beyond some minor or even major inconvenience, Zor puts their basic fundamentals aside to allow everyone a window of celebration in the even of Phoenix’s death. There is no way they’d leave a note saying they expect Phoenix to put themselves first and take care of themselves, to put themselves before the EOD. Nor would any of their top operatives or moles, everyone at Zoraxis despises Phoenix, and it’s Phoenix in specific. None of these people want Phoenix to go have a peaceful life in the country side, they want to mount the agents head on a wall like a trophy.

But someone who would?

A former agent who was in Phoenix’s exact shoes.

Throughout IEYTD 3, you can flip between Public Radio and Agency Radio. The public radio is mostly just the game soundtrack with a few little advertisements that tell you more about the world, but the Agency radio is much more interesting. Through it, we get updates on the EOD’s world, we hear a handler give run-downs to all of the agents about what’s going on with the Kinesium experiments, what’s going on with Prism, rules about staying a football field away from other agents, things like that. But one of the first things we hear from this agency broadcast is that Agent Phoenix is not just a secret agent. They’re a famous secret agent. One so big that the amount of agents joining the EOD is staggering, and they’ll run out of kinesium for their TK chips at this rate.

A funny little side tangent for sure, but consider: What’s keeping former agents off of those radio waves? Nothing, in fact, we see that the station is compromised in a note left BY the Phantom, and the last phantom coin you get is by entering a code left on your desk by them with said note. So who’s to say Vitti didn’t have access to an agency radio, heard everything that was going on with the Phoenix, and chose to step in. To let them know that there is another option. That Phoenix doesn’t have to keep risking their life for an agency that treats them like a number and a trophy rather than a person. But she didn't want her identity potentially outed, so she quickly took her photo off the wall and tucked it into a hiding space in hopes of Phoenix not finding it.

But Zor does know Vitti. After all, her portrait is in their office. Which leads to my next point, we hear in Operation: Squeaky Clean from the first game that Zor’s not doing these things because they’re just a bad person who wants to watch the world burn. They specifically want vengeance on the agency, but vengeance for what? Sure, it could just be the agency constantly getting in the way of their plans, but what made them start in the first place? What drove them to decide that they wanted to go down this route of villainy? Surely there’s gotta be something other than just “they want to rule the world”, Zor basically already ruled it at the beginning of the series. They’re a corporate billionaire that was able to get away with filling popsicles with enough lead to kill a person instantly, and they didn’t get anything more than a slap on the wrist? They could have done anything they wanted at that point, why make a giant death laser in outer space, they coulda spent that money doing literally anything else?

But who do they aim it at? Not the heads of state. Not a symbol of peace. Not even a test run in the ocean. Their first ever laser strike is aimed at an EOD base. An EOD base with the man that at some point was the lead support agent, someone who knew Vitti personally, Reginald Crane. Our Handler. That wasn’t a random shot, nor was it a scheme to take over the world. It was a personal attack on the Enhanced Operatives Division.

So, jump a few pet sharks with me as I spin a story for you. The EOD is established and has dozens, hundreds of competent agents even, and they’re able to stop international global crisis and villainous organizations by working underground. As time goes on, one agent stands out from the rest, Valari Vitti, an agent so good at sneaking in without a trace, she quickly climbs the ranks and becomes the lead field agent at the EOD.

But people are more than just their work, as is Vitti. She could be a friend, a sister, or, and this is my personal theory, someone’s lover. Their wife. Sure, working at the EOD is dangerous, but that’s just part of it, and if her partner knew, say they too worked at the EOD or Vitti was simply able to open up about her work, then there’d be no secrets. A needed relief from the stress of agency things. No need for a double life, she’d be able to be herself around them.

But as she keeps progressing up the ranks, she realizes things can’t go on like this forever. She can’t keep going to this dangerous job, there are risks! How long until she was hurt? Maimed? Killed!? She can’t keep doing this. It’s not viable, she likely will die if she doesn’t make this decision for herself and leave.

So. She does. She doesn’t resign, doesn’t go through the process of making an official exit, she just disappears. If she simply resigned, her photo wouldn’t still be up, and it sure as heck wouldn’t be tucked away in the pot of a random snake plant. The EOD could have found her a replacement, some sort of backup, anyone who’s worked in business has watched a coworker die and get replaced in chillingly short time, something the EOD doesn’t seem to be above. They can’t afford to be above it, agents die every day.

So there’s no reason for Vitti’s portrait to still be in that frame if she died. But if she simply vanished, then that could explain why she’s still up there on that wall. The EOD didn’t replace her, because they may have still been looking for her. We know that when an agent vanishes, the EOD sends people to try and recover them. The site of the PeaceKeeper is checked for Phoenix’s body, we know it is thanks to Reginald’s recording at the end of IEYTD 2. The EOD always will try to find an agent or what remains of them.

Over time, perhaps they gave up. Went to close the case but never got around to it because the EOD is always busy.

But Vitti’s spouse never forgot. They sure as hell never forgave either. Their wife was gone without a trace, and they had nothing left of her but her photos and an EOD lighter that they keep in a safe in their office. They knew they had to get revenge, they had to make the people that took their loved one suffer. So, they went to work. They established a business and gave themselves the fake name Zor and called the business Zoraxis.

They hunker down, and simply plot and scheme for a while. They claw their way up the social and economic ladder. They cut every corner, take every shortcut, and they hoard as much money as they possibly can and establish themselves as a cruel, immoral person that doesn’t care about the health or safety of their workers on the way up. As time goes on, they start their second half of their plan: Creating an entire establishment with the main goal of taking down the EOD.

They take in anyone who will help with their goals, the more deranged the better. A scientist who loves to burn things and wants to create a super laser? Give her the money and tell her to fire her first shot at the building their late wife used to work at. An unhinged fashion designer obsessed with maiming and death? Wonderful, you can deal with all the pains in my side that get in the way. Anything to finally bring down the people who cost them everything.

But the Death Engine didn’t work. Not only did some random pest destroy it, it didn’t even take down one of the people they wanted dead the most, the lead Support Agent. Maybe Zor particularly hates the man who was supposed to be watching Vitti, keeping her safe. And now?

Not only is he alive, but he’s taken on a new agent who’s taking Vitti’s place? Some random nobody who’s been a pest, who should have died ages ago, not only was getting in their way, but was also apparently good enough to replace their lost loved one without so much as a passing glance? No. They were going to take down the EOD one way or another. The EOD’s a secret organization from even the government, maybe if they take hostile control then they’ll be able to take them down. Sure, the EOD survived a laser, but there’s no way they’ll survive nukes, right? Surely, surely that will get them their revenge-

But no. That agent comes back. They come back and ruin everything. By the time Operation K-Boom happens, not only has the Phoenix ruined several of their most complicated plans that were years in the making, but they had solidly taken the position of their late wife. They took the only thing she had left. A legacy. How dare that pesky Phoenix think they can just step in and replace the one they hold dearly so carelessly? So thoughtlessly? They. Had. To. Die.

Of course, it doesn’t work. Phoenix wins, and Zor is back to the drawing board. The only major thing that gets in the way of this is why wouldn’t Vitti tell her partner that she was leaving the EOD? Going into hiding? Well, the IEYTD franchise isn’t a stranger to having agents split off. In Operation Fifth Class, we see Phoenix try to rescue a woman known as Anna Ulanova. Anna says a few things to the agent, but the last thing we hear is her saying she’d try to come find them, but she had a suspicion that they wouldn’t leave their life. They wouldn’t quit fieldwork.

So we’ve seen cases where there’s an agent and someone who’s not quite in the circle but is aware of what’s going on splitting off because the agent can’t stop putting work first. In the same vein, we’ve seen other relationships fall apart due to someone being unable to stop putting work first.

Leading up to the third game, Schell games released a bunch of ciphers and puzzles that lead to minor lore drops. One of them was shawnsdesk, a collection of files made by Shawn in HR about various characters from the franchise. Most of them were important characters. Solaris, Fabricator, Juniper, Zor, but there were two that were notable.

Shawn in HR, and Sam in accounting. Shawn’s is, of course, mostly just him inflating his own ego and talking about how good he is at making files on all of the people at the EOD, but Sam is where it gets interesting.

We have heard nothing about Sam at this point, and looking over the file, it’s messy. Full of snide insults, catty remarks, Shawn filling this report with resentment, but over what? A bad breakup. Sam telling Shawn that he can’t be with him because Shawn won’t stop putting work first. Why would Schell show us this now, during this window of time where everyone's clawing for more lore and content of the third game? Why show a random lover's quarrel in the middle of all of this story relevant content? I suspect that it's because Shawn and Sam's story is lore relevant, it's just not their lore we're meant to be focused on.

This series has a running theme of two people getting along, maybe even being in love or romantically inclined, and then it falling apart because someone can’t stop putting work first. Phoenix and Anna, Sam and Shawn, and now, or rather long in the past, Vitti and Zor. Maybe, the two were in a rough patch, or had gotten into arguments about Vitti's dangerous work. Maybe she was sick of feeling this upset resentment for her partner and decided she didn’t just want to quit the EOD and try to fix things with Zor. She wanted out. She wanted to start over. Completely over. She wanted to live.

[violetmuses]

Justice - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹 🫂

Title: Justice - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹🫂

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Armando Aretas meets you for the first time. @nelo0wesker @yassbishimvintage @amethyst-loves-bucky

=====

2024

Experts pulled straight from the darkness hijacked Armando's federal transport to leave prison. By some miracle, Aretas steered the plane into water, helping everyone survive.

Drenched, Armando Aretas stands from murky water in his ruined orange uniform. Mike Lowrey and Marcus Burnett followed, dampened as well.

“Listen! Captain Howard left us files with Dorn. We'll reach Miami and start looking.” Stranded through the woods, Detective Lowrey kept struggling to convince his estranged son.

Intelligence agencies whisper that Conrad Howard muddled with the cartel, but Mike and Marcus would prove Cap’s innocence right away.

“Y'all better not slow me down.” Taking charge, Armando is the only person who could identify whoever framed Captain Howard. “Lose your phones before we move. Either keep up with me or I'll leave you both in the dirt. You're in my world now.”

Given no other option, Mike and Marcus followed Aretas.

______

Stealing clothes from two idiots, Mike, Marcus, and Armando “found” one rusty pickup truck before Aretas headed to Dorn's boathouse.

By the next day, sunlight greeted this harbor once more.

“Stay in the car, man. I'll be right back with Marcus.” Mike warned Armando, but Marcus still rolled his eyes before these doors closed.

_____

“Kel! I'm going to make some food.” You spoke with Kelly, AMMO weapons expert.

“Cool! Taking a shower.” Kelly stepped out from her bedroom with tech genius Dorn practically naked, but you know about the relationship for a while now.

“All right.” You say, planning to leave this corridor and offer meals as usual.

Almost every summer between missions, you joined this couple through rare breaks, especially given your somewhat lonesome place at home.

“Damn. There's extra soap, but we're out of body wash.” Kelly updates you on toiletries, but Dorn's voice echoed downstairs, catching mutual interest.

“It's not a good time for visiting yet. Let's reconvene in like an hour or so.” Dorn probably stammered on the phone while using his earpiece again.

Whatever. You roll both eyes with Kelly and she found this blue silk robe anyway, heading downstairs.

“Babe, we're out of body wash. Whoa!” As you followed each step to find the kitchen, Kelly moved down this wooden staircase, but eased that robe.

“Ooh!” Detectives Mike Lowrey and Marcus Burnett covered their mouths to veil shock and laughter.

Even you scrambled to cover up a little bit and Kelly helped out.

“What's going on here, man?” Mike gestured near Dorn, yet acknowledged Kelly and you.

“I’m dating Kelly, but we invite our teammate every summer.” Dorn nods toward you and K.

“All right.” Mike and Marcus lifted their hands, surrendering judgment.

“Is everything okay?” Kelly faces Mike and Marcus once you settle with clothes and finally start cooking.

“Yeah, we wanted to…” Mike stopped talking when the front door opened again.

Shit! Mike thought.

Armando entered the house.

“What the fuck?!” Both Kelly and you immediately raised firearms through defense.

“Told you to wait in the car.” Mike seemed quietly frustrated with Armando.

Aretas didn't even respond.

“Take Armando to your house. I sure as hell don't trust your son.” Kelly wanted to protect everyone

“Kelly, I can explain.” Mike tried to ease the problem, but Kelly wouldn't listen. You wouldn't even drop your gun until this moment ended.

“Stand down.” Kelly pulled this command while you safely veiled that gun once more.

“This is bullshit! I'm going back upstairs.” Fed up, you planned to hide and calm down, but Kelly noted your steps after speaking with Dorn.

“Stay with us.” Kelly held your hand. “We're looking for whoever framed Captain Howard.”

“Okay.” No longer fighting, you accepted the situation. There's no other choice.

“She's fine.” Dorn tells everyone that Kelly feels better.

"She don't look fine.” Marcus Burnett chimed in as well.

“I'm fine.” Kelly repeated herself.

“Yes, you are.” Armando glanced from the kitchen while daring to flirt with Kelly.

“What did you say?” Everyone turned their heads and Dorn noticed.

“Hey…” Mike wanted Dorn to settle down while still correcting Armando.

“It's a language barrier.” Marcus then slightly jokes.

“That's English.” Dorn's eyes widened even more as Marcus looked at Mike.

“I definitely heard English.” Mike spoke up right back. Burnett seemed flabbergasted.

“Can't talk to me, either.” Once Armando turned in your path, you lifted this drink and took sips.

“Maybe I don't care.” Armando snipped without yelling and found beer in the refrigerator, sitting with you.

Surprised by Armando's banter with you, Kelly and Dorn freeze smiles together.

“Don't get your ass beat.” Even Mike held back chuckles while noting Aretas once more.

Long day ahead. Mike thought.

______

No more games. Everyone collaborated together and hoped to lock down this hidden monster.

“Got 'em! James McGrath: Former Army Ranger turned DEA agent. Taken hostage by the cartel before joining this faction himself.” Dorn finally revealed highlights on the man who framed Captain Howard.

Just when Mike and Marcus seemed comfortable enough to rest, notifications pinged from the visual side of Marcus's RING Camera.

Uniformed intruders located the Burnett household.

“Get the family somewhere safe. You've got trouble coming!” Marcus warned Megan's boyfriend on the phone.

Your own heart races with each passing second as the moment plays from large screens. If Reggie couldn't move fast, tragedy would strike.

Holy shit!

Not only did Reggie hide Megan and Mrs. Burnett without thinking twice, but this guy handled fifteen intruders by himself.

“My snacks are yours, Reggie!” Marcus couldn't help cheering out loud. “Yeah, chitty-chitty bang-bang, motherfuckers!”

_____

Though Marcus Burnett celebrated safety, Detective Mike Lowrey and his wife Christine weren't so fortunate.

McGarth kidnapped Christine and found Captain Howard's granddaughter Callie with her.

“I'll go. Let my life be worth something.” Armando wants to give himself up for demands, saving both Christine and Callie.

“Never, never…” Mike refused Armando's sacrifice here and pointed directly toward his son.

In that same moment, you quietly stepped over and went to hold Armando's hand, surprised when his palm squeezed back.

You then look up to see Aretas glancing toward you. Even gentle tears reach his own brown eyes, looking just like Mike here.

“Sorry.” Armando pulled his slightly accented English while facing you.

Without exchanging another word, you open both arms and hug this stranger for the very first time, grounded by reality.

Tomorrow could change everything.

*****

James McGrath veiled his dark operations from this alligator park located somewhere deep in Florida. AMMO would drop for revenge soon.

“Be careful. Dorn said there's an albino in the water.” Uniformed in tactical gear, you whispered to Armando while quietly drifting between ripples.

“Huh?” Despite focusing on the mission, Aretas is somehow distracted by your firm yet sweet voice.

“An alligator might still be here.” You repeat yourself and offer precautions.

“Shit…” Realization hit Armando seconds later and his guard pulled even higher now.

Ripples shifted again and growling thunders from below as if on cue.

“Don't move.” You hitched.

Just when you thought alligator Duke would battle Armando, this absolute beast moves away from your direction.

“Bigger problems, we're cornered!” You reveal this warning through comms when the bridge creaks overhead.

“I got it. Wait for me. Kay?” Armando took charge once more and sifted through the water with enough space to pierce targets.

“Kay.” You nod toward Aretas and shield your own presence from the upcoming crossfire.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1!

Within seconds of you mentally counting down, Armando fired bullets and henchmen perished, dropping right through water near splashes of blood.

You both crashed up the bridge and ran outward together, gunshots blazing in unison.

“If we make it out of here, call me?” Armando glanced toward you despite piercing more bullets everywhere.

“Not the time!” You shout right back and still fight McGrath’s team.

She didn't refuse. Armando thought.

******

After taking down James McGrath and saving Callie Howard, Armando Aretas barely escaped federal law again once professionals spared him.

Sometime later, this random text message reached out one day, but the AMMO team held different phone numbers in your contact list.

Still shooting me, Cariño? 👀

Not given the chance to respond, you look up and see Armando walking into this coffee shop and heading straight forward.

Uh-oh.

No more dirty outfits.

From wearing this gold necklace to sporting one fresh shirt with matching pants, Armando Aretas chooses sunglasses and outright looks new.

You smiled the moment he sat down, prepared for any future.

[cyber-skeletons]

hiii:>>>

6 + 9 + 5 for megatron, 1 + 10 for Optimus, and/or 13 + 4 for both:333

hc game

HI FRIEND!!!!!! Once more you have come to bless us with asks I see <333 Sooooo sorry for how late this is, things got busy and stayed busy

Megatron:

6) Something they lost, but would love to have back

My god. I've seen some HEAVY answers to this one and I love toying around with those, but as for what I actually believe in:

Terminus.

9) What calms them when they are upset. 

When she's angry and frustrated, she likes to destroy things. Sometimes those things are people. As for sadness and fear, I'm running away with my age regression headcannon again and saying that she likes to hide under a weighted blanket and listen to a safe, trusted love one's spark pulse as they rock her. If there's no one she considers safe, she'll play an audio file of some random spark pulse and pretend someone loves her.

5) A cherished personal belonging. 

During the war, she tried to keep no sentimental belongings ("no attachments"), but after, when she's in recovery, she holds onto the first thing given to her as a genuine act of kindness and belief in her goodness. (In IDW, a Rodimus Star; in Earthspark, a "live laugh love" framed photo of her and Dot; etc.)

Optimus:

1) Something this character is truly proud of.

Can it be someone? Because my first thought was "Bumblebee." Yes I'm on the "Dadtimus" hype train, but more than just the simple cuteness I genuinely think Optimus's pride manifests in the lives he manages to guide and protect for the better

10) How they deal with pain. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck you just had to hit me with this didn't you. damn. well. The answer is that he ignores it. Optimus is the #1 target of Ratchet's wrath when he comes in with three rust infections and a completely stripped joint because he played the "I'm fine, tend to others first" game for too long. It's to the point of self harm. And mental pain???????? OH, BUDDY. He just meditates on the Matrix until he loses his sense of self and slips into a state of dissociation so deep that he can function again. Sometimes he implodes and has a 2-hour meltdown in his quarters and then he just starts the buildup all over again.

Both:

13) What kind of parent they would be. 

Crying weeping foaming at the mouth clawing at the walls shaking like a little dog. Them as parents is. everythign 2 me

Anyway, Megatron is a hot mess. He oscillates wildly between being the "fun dad" and the helicopter parent. Always obsessed with knowing exactly where they are at any given moment, if their surroundings are safe, if he can trust other mechs to so much as look at them... the moment that sparkling emerges, he's unlocked an entirely new level of PTSD. Also, because he grew up with "wire mother" instead of "cloth mother," he's VERY screwed in the head and doesn't know how to give affection at first. He shows his love through acts of service and protection until he finally adjusts enough to hug and cuddle. When their sparkling becomes a teen, that's when he really hits his stride. He handles the rebellious streak and the angst with an almost supernatural grace and shocking empathy and patience.

Optimus meanwhile is a tempering, nurturing force right out of the gate. He is the Snugglemaster, always willing to provide praise and affirmations. However, he is also just as paranoid as Megatron about their safety and is also a helicopter parent. That sparkling is 2000% homeschooled and has next to NO privacy. He absolutely gets cornered by the likes of Elita and Bumblebee staging an intervention that he's going to crush his bitlet if he doesn't open up that iron grasp, and that Megatron needs a counterweight. After that, Optimus absolutely earns those "#1 Dad" mugs, and even gets Megatron to chill tf out. It's the teenage years he has to watch out for. He struggles adjusting to his sparkling's new interests and struggles and he tries but man... it takes him a long time to break out of seeing his little one with Permababy Syndrome.

4) What they would do if they had one month to live. 

Megatron is no holds barred fighting it with all her might. She'll spend the entire month searching for a cure or a solution, she'll struggle and rage and defy it every step of the way, even if it means leaving her loved ones in a time of peace. She will never go gently into that good night. It is her nature to rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Optimus, if he's not going "finally," then he's using that time to give as much closure to others as he can. Making happy memories with loved ones, tying loose ends, building things. He's already written like three separate speeches for this day, a la "when I am gone, do not lament my absence" and "when you look up at the stars, think of one of them as my spark."

[lej222]

Literary Allusions and Pop Culture References in ASLFUA

After School Lessons is a series that has minimal plot, but great underlying themes and references to other famous creations/pop culture moments. I thought it would be fun to collect as many as I can in this post and their possible narrative connection, not necessarily in order. :)

Cheol & Miae

One of the biggest running gags of the series is that the main characters have the same names as the famous Korean musical duo Cheol and Miae. The group was formed in 1992, with Cheol as the rapper and Miae as the singer. Their single, 'Why do you' became a huge hit and was referenced in ASLFUA plenty of times. Obviously, the main joke here is that the singer Miae was taller than rapper Cheol and they were only friends, while Unripe Apples Cheol is taller than Miae.

Nostradamus

The prophecy of Nostradamus said that in the 7th month of 1999 a great king of terror would descend from the sky and bring end to the world. Which makes it even more interesting that the supernatural powers in the story started to be very active around July with the end of the first term and the start of the summer break.

Miae's posters on the wall: E.T (1982) and The X-Files (1993)

Interestingly enough, both feature aliens. E.T The Extra-Terrestrial might be more interesting for us readers, as it features a young boy named Elliott who befriends an alien. In one of the most famous scenes of the movie, E.T. is riding Elliott's bike in his basket, and the bicycle lifts off from the ground and two are shown flying in front of the full moon. In fact, in a poll made by Universal it was voted as the most memorable movie scene in 100 years of cinema.

Needless to say, there are some ovbious similarities with our story - the boy with the bike, the strange friend, the moon symbolism. In fact, Cheol is always looking at the moon so it wouldn't be a surprise if it was inspired by Spielberg's movie, plus one of the most impactful scenes of aslfua is when Cheol allows Miae to ride his bicycle with him in ep 95, the scene that I personally consider the end of the first part of the story.

Backstreet Boys

Miae is singing the 1997 hit song 'As Long As You Love Me'. Miae, like a typical teenager, likes boybands like the Fire Boys who might be the parody of The Backstreet Boys😃

Romeo and Juliet

There are quite a few references to the 1996 Romeo and Juliet movie, starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. On 3 separate cover pages, Miae is portrayed as Juliet, while Cheol and Jisu are dressed like Romeo. There's also a scene where Miae imagines being Juliet who is not allowed to meet her Romeo when she cannot see Cheol. I wonder if Jisu will also have a Romeo-like element in his story that could create a similar situation, it would be an amazing foreshadowing element.

Man in Black

It looks like Soonkki really loves her alien references, because we also have the 1997 movie starring Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones, who play agents tasked with monitoring extraterrestrial life on Earth.

Titanic

Another movie that is mentioned many times in the story, the Titanic (1997) is one that Miae seemingly loves and has watched many times. In fact, it's funny how her favourite part is the car scene because it really shows us readers that Miae is interested in the idea of love, even if she doesn't know what it truly entails to be in a relationship.

Green Day

People born before the 2000s all know that characters listening to the American band's songs were often the slacker/stoner stereotypes. I've also written a post about how Jisu is seemingly the subversion of the 90s slacker/stoner and nerd archetype, while Cheol seems to be the subversion of the jock trope. Jisu is listening to Basket Case (1994) that has become the anthem of many slackers/stoners in the 90s, and weirdly fits his character really well considering Jisu is usually described as a strange person. I've also made several posts about Jisu possibly being on the spectrum, and it's interesting to see how Jisu expresses himself with the songs he listens to, no wonder his hobby is listening to music. If we consider Jisu might be bad at expressing his feelings through his body language, it makes this scene even more precious.

Speed

Cheol invites Miae to watch a movie together and it happens to be the 1994 classic starring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock. Reeves plays a police officer who has to save the passengers of a bus without the speed of the bus dropping below 50 miles per hour, otherwise a bomb would explode the vehicle. It's one of the most creative action films ever made, but if someone wants to watch it, I advice not to watch the sequel because it is awful lol.

Scream

Miae wants Cheol to join the academy kids watching an R-rated movie which leads to a hilarious misunderstanding. To Cheol's relief, the movie turns out to be the horror movie Scream (1996).

Shakespeare and Carl Jung

Like I've mentioned in my supernatural involvement post under ep 116, we get a close-up of 2 interesting posters.

One of them is about the forest in Midsummer Night's Dream by Shakespeare. The 4 central characters in the play all get entangled with the supernatural, and the forest symbolizes a world where the line between reality and fantasy is blurred. Dreams play an important role in the story as they are sometimes real, sometimes simply dreams. In aslfua, we also have dreams, a forest where young Miae and Cheol played, a stone tower fairy that allegedly grants wishes and an unknown supernatural power that talks to Miae.

The coincidences poster is likely a reference to Carl Jung's synchronicity, a concept that states that seemingly meaningful coincidences have a deeper meaning. One has to realize the connection between their psyche and the material world to experience synchronicity, so basically you have to notice the coincidences that keep happening and put meaning to them. Because these coincidences have no rational explanation, they can be proof for a deeper order in the universe, almost like destiny, no wonder Jung used this concept to argue for the existence of the paranormal. A simple example: you really cannot decide what to study in the future, but have seen many posters on your way about one school. You go home and it pops up on the Internet. You start to wonder if it's a coincidence, and decide that it's a sign from above and eventually choose it. You've experienced synchronicity.

-> this happens when seemingly unrelated events become meaningful to you. Miae wonders how she keeps bumping into Cheol. She says he must have come to her neighborhood because of her wish. Miae experiences synchronicity when it comes to Cheol. Or we could say Miae acknowledges a deeper order in the universe that, through coincidences, let her meet Cheol again. Jisu also notices that he keeps meeting Miae through coincidences, he acknowledges the deeper order, he even remarks it's fun, but he goes beyond and says he feels like there's a higher power involved. Miae has no idea about her coincidences with Jisu so she her psyche doesn't make the connection with the material world. So we have synchronicity experienced by: Miae->Cheol and Jisu->Miae.

Jisu, the grateful magpie

Jisu's backstory gives us a reference to a famous Korean folktale about a man who saved a group of baby magpies from a snake and in return the magpies sacrificed themselves to protect him. Here, the illustration clearly shows Miae as the person who uses her bow and arrow to kill the snake, while we know she called Jisu a magpie when they were kids. Throughout the story, we see Jisu trying to protect Miae and repay the favor without much luck, which pretty much foreshadows one big possible role for Jisu in the storyline, no wonder he's the one who's aware of Shim bullying Miae. It's no coincidence either how in the present she thinks Jisu resembles more of a bald eagle, a predatory animal.

Stone tower

Although it's not an allusion, I wanted to include this one because it's a very famous superstition in Korea. People used to pray to the mountain Gods by building stone pagodas so their wishes would be answered. This tradition is still alive, though nowadays most people tell their wishes or pray for good luck. You usually put your stones on an existing stone tower because it also shows how people are interconnected and how you should respect others so your wish can come true through the wishes of others. That's why you should never destroy a pagoda that somebody else made, and it's also very disrespectful. Miae also makes wishes to the tower so Cheol can become her friend and he would one day come to her neighborhood. When Cheol wants to give her a book, he accidentally falls on the pagoda and injures himself.

The Matrix

The Matrix (1999), one of the most famous movies of all time, is about how reality is actually an illusion, and people can be blinded about the truth about their own existence. The main character Neo, played by Keanu Reeves, is someone who awakens within the Matrix, similarly to what we see in The Truman Show starring Jim Carrey.

In one of the most iconic moments of the movie, the oracle tells Neo not to worry about the vase, while Neo doesn't know what she's talking about until he accidentally drops a vase. This scene poses many different questions about predetermination and free will. Was Neo's act predestined by prior experince, free will, or maybe both?

If you look at my aslfua screenshot, you can notice the code from Matrix in green. And what happens in the scene? Miae and Jisu injure a plant in a pot. An accident, right?? Well, depending on how you interpret it based on the movie. And what does Jisu do? He intentionally throws the pot and destroys the plant. Can Jisu's act be considered a sign of free will? Because that is what he tells Miae- that he is not a bully, so he took the blame by flipping over the plant. Jisu might just be a glitch in the system if you know what I mean :D

The Bible

Last but not least, we have this super symbolic illustration at the end of ep2 after Miae meets Cheol. The biblical allusion is obvious, Miae is holding out a green apple to Cheol, a half-eaten apple. In the first part Miae is the one providing her knowledge to Cheol in order to help him mature. :)

There are probably way more references, but I'm kind of tired so I might add others in the future. :) If anyone read this whole thing, thank you so much! :D

[felixcloud6288]

Madoka Rebellion Discussion part 2

I hit the image file limit so I'm going to put the other things I noticed on a second post.

Part 1

During Homura and Kyouko's lunch meeting, the number of cups on the table would increase between shots.

Mami was kind of the most vicious aspect of PMMM's deconstruction of Magical Girls. Mami gleefully indulged in the magical girl genre tropes, having an elaborate transformation sequence and shouting the names of her finishing moves. Then she is murdered horribly and the rest of the series is about the horrors of being a Magical Girl. And then it turns out that she and Sayaka, who subscribed to her ideals, couldn't cope with the realization of what they are.

There was a moment during Homura and Mami's gunfight where Homura managed to knock Mami off balance and she panicked when she realized Mami wouldn't be able to defend herself from Homura's counterattack. While Madoka is Homura's top priority, she cares about the others as well and does not want to hurt them (She still has a low opinion of Sayaka though).

But still, Homura has opted to abandon the others in the past. When she had the opportunity to kill Mami, she had to force her gun arm down to shoot Mami in the leg. And she had to look away when the bullet was about to hit.

When Kyouko and Mami started to realize something was off about their memories, the world became slightly threatening to them. But Sayaka did not activate the Witch's defenses when she made it abundantly clear that she understands everything going on. It turns out that Sayaka was immune to the memory altering effects of the Witch and was just playing along. So the Witch probably keeps tabs on everyone trapped in its labyrinth by reading their memories. And this would mean Sayaka is undetectable to the Witch.

Homura's phone turned into paper when she threw it away.

The key with a heart handle was one of the things in the background of Madoka's transformation sequence. And then it appeared again in a bottle when the city began to transform.

I found out from TvTropes that the doll familiars are called the Clara Dolls. There are 15 of them and they are all named and based on various negative aspects that Homura despises about herself.

Interestingly, one of the dolls "Love" never shows up. It's stated to have not yet arrived. I have three ideas about that detail: 1) That statement is literal and Love just never shows up to help. 2) Love does not exist and the actual aspect of it being a flaw is Homura does not have any love. 3) Homura herself is Love.

I personally think the third is most likely. Even though Homura is the Witch behind everything, she frequently acts independently from the Witch's will itself and it keeps trying to make her abandon her quest to uncover what is going on. The Clara Dolls are all background actors playing their roles in this performance while Homura is the main character. They only break their roles when Homura goes off-script.

And when Homura first awakens as a witch, she's wearing the same outfit the Clara Dolls wear. If she is indeed the 15th Clara Doll, then Homura fully transformed into a Witch when Love awakened and decided that she needs to die for Madoka's sake.

Here's the moment Sayaka and Bebe explained things to Madoka.

When Homura decided to become a Witch, all the invitations she'd been sending out were destroyed, effectively cutting off all contact with the outside world.

Homura burst out of herself the same way she does in her transformation. And she is being judged by her self from before she promised to save Madoka.

Bebe got blown away when Mami used Tiro Finale.

I did a whole rewatch specifically to find every instance I could of that spool of pink thread. The first time I saw it was when Homura began recounting how they are all trapped in an idealized world.

Shortly after, Homura goes on her rant about how they have to fight forever or else Madoka's sacrifice will be wasted. The next time I saw it was when it appeared in the coliseum that Homura and her Familiars were in. Right before it appeared, we had a shot of the Madoka goddess image being covered with inky handprints and the ooze started to fall. That made me feel like the spool fell from the statue.

I think the spool is an abstraction of Madoka. It's pink like her hair and it is sort of shaped like her when she has her hair up. Homura said she was upset that she began to think Madoka was someone she had made up, and we see her turning Madoka into an ideal. She kneels at a statue of the goddess Madoka and swears to serve her will and decries everyone who is not equally as devoted.

Of course, the Clara Dolls have a different mindset. They throw tomatoes at her and her goddess while shouting "god is dead" and they casually kicked the spool away and walked away from such a worthless thing.

But that spool became part of Homura's new Soul Gem. That abstract idea of who Madoka is became the foundation for what Homura chose to become.

So much of the issue that comes up in the ending is that Homura has lost sight of who Madoka truly is. She doesn't see how Madoka has grown or who Madoka truly is. Homura is not truly interested in Madoka's wellbeing or doing what Madoka wants or thinks she should do.

Homura is instead worshiping the ideal perfect goddess Madoka who might as well be a spool of pink thread for how accurate it is to the real Madoka.

And when Madoka attempted to defy the idea of who Homura thinks she is and escape the world Homura made, Homura desperately tried to stop her and realized that the real Madoka is not the idealized Madoka in her head.

So what happens next? I feel like this is the setup to an eternal conflict of the most toxic yuri imaginable. Madoka and Homura both want to be together forever, but the problem is they both have the exact same idea of "I will make you happy forever and I don't care what happens to me in the process." They both want to be completely selfless for the other's sake and consequently will be entirely selfish in how they treat each other.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to the next movie.

back

[blues824]

do you think you can do the obey me bros with an kanao tsuyuri reader?

Platonic (she is 16 canonically, and these demons are over 1000 years old), gender-neutral reader.

Lucifer

He already knows about your backstory because of your student file and how it basically has everything about you. Kanae seemed like such a good sister, she reminds him of Lilith a bit because of her helpful personality. 

You didn’t speak a lot, which he understood. He was shocked when you uttered your first words to him. You had told him to take a break, and how could he not when you broke your silence just to remind him to leave his work for a few minutes to eat something?

He finds your demon slaying abilities to be above any he has ever seen. You move with swiftness and grace, which is something his brothers most definitely don’t have. The favoritism definitely shows with how he treats you and how he treats the others. He’s basically rewarding your competence.

Mammon

Lucifer had told him about your backstory, and he is also hit with the thought that Kanae seemed a lot like Lilith. She would do the coin flip thing a lot when she was in the beginning of the relationship with that human, and he was shocked that you did the same thing.

Big brother Mammon would totally learn sign language just so he would be able to communicate with you. When you spoke for the first time, it was to congratulate him for deciding to break his habit of gambling. That gave him the extra push he needed to hand his credit card to Lucifer willingly.

He has taken you to an empty field so you could train and utilize your demon slaying abilities, and he was so freaking proud. You moved as graceful and delicate as a butterfly, but you were also deadly. It further reminded him of how a butterfly deceives its predators by its wings.

Leviathan

You reminded him of the character from ‘Help! Rip-off Michael Jackson turned my sister into a demon and now I’m trying to find a cure for her!’ You even had similar backstories. He thought it was adorable how family-oriented you were because of how much you cared for them like they were your brothers.

He would totally download an app that allowed you to communicate non-verbally. When you uttered your first phrase to him since you entered the Devildom, he felt so freaking special. You cheered him on as he finally beat the level in the game he was playing, and he felt so goddamn victorious.

He doesn’t particularly like going outside, but when you used the app to take you to train on an empty field, he could feel Hell’s Navy Captain arising within him. As a general, he couldn’t say no to the request, and he thinks you did better than any soldier he had ever seen.

Satan

Your backstory is considerably worse than any backstory he has ever heard in any of his books, and that is saying a whole freaking lot. He has personally read your student file and notes that your second older sister had taken you under her wing (get it?) and trained you.

He would introduce an activity where you scribble in a few books he gets you and you circle the words that would make up your sentence. When you do say your first words to him, it was when he had gotten you the next book in the series you were enjoying. You had thanked him, and he didn’t make that big of a deal out of it so as to not make you uncomfortable. It is something that he will always remember, though.

He would agree to take you to a field so that you could train, and he has to admit that you moved elegantly. It most definitely showed your years of experience with slaying demons, but he still wanted to reward you by taking you to a cat café afterward.

Asmodeus

He is very sad to hear how hard your life was. You were so adorable, but you had such a harsh beginning. Personally, he would love to kill your old owner even though that was multiple years ago. How dare they hurt you?

I feel like a lot of sign language channels have come across his Devilgram feed, so he knows basic words and phrases so that he can communicate with you. When you speak to him for the first time, it was to say that he looked beautiful. He had never felt happier than he did at that moment.

He would absolutely love to go see you train! He doesn’t want you to get lost since he wants to take you to the mall to get some more cute outfits, after all! He was so in shock when he saw how gracefully you used and maneuvered your blade. After, he just jumped up and clapped for you like a mom at her kid’s soccer game.

Beelzebub

He had to admit that your oldest sister sounded a lot like his younger sister. Perhaps their souls were carved from the same stone. However, you seem to be doing better than he ever would have if his sister were killed by a sadistic demon.

He wishes he could communicate with you, and so he learns how to. He always carries a small notebook with him for you, and he learns sign language. When you speak to him for the first time, he heard you thank him for dinner. Did his food make you break your silence?? Well, now he will cook food for you any time you want.

Beel would take you to his favorite field for privacy. You both would do typical work-outs like push-ups and sit-ups. Then you drew your blade and practiced on a nearby tree. The 6th oldest watched as you utilized your sword gracefully and never even destroyed it. His only thought was I would hate to be that tree.

Belphegor

He wanted to hate you, but you understood too much of his pain. You had lost your sister as well to a being from a different realm. The means were more brutal in your story, but you understood the pain of losing your beloved sibling.

He uses dreams to communicate. He would use his powers to let you have control in your dream so that you would be able to get your point across. The first time you actually spoke to him was to wake him up, and boy did it.

He doesn’t particularly like going anywhere since he always ends up falling asleep. However, if you ask him, he will go with you to the field you discovered and watch you practice. You practiced your Flower Breathing, and Belphie had to admit that it looked awesome.

[takaraphoenix]

Sugar for the Secretary

Part 1: The New Secretary

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, AU/heavy canon divergence, post-Nogitsune, Bad Alpha/Friend Scott, Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, Spark Stiles, Pack Mom Stiles, Alpha Peter, magic, sugar daddies, fluff, hurt/comfort, PTSD, (explicit intercourse, anal, oral <- those will be in part 2), m/f

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Allison Argent, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Cora Hale

Writer's Month Prompts: sketch + plane

Summary: Stiles finally got out of Beacon Hills, together with Isaac. They move to London for a fresh start and Stiles gets a job at as a personal assistant to a lawyer, Peter Hale. He didn't expect for Peter to be an Alpha, to find a new pack and even less so, to fall in love with his new boss and his boss' husband.

This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3

and if you want to read part 2, where the smut and sugar-daddy-ing is stored, you will have to follow this story on one of those sites ;)

Sugar for the Secretary

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

Part 1: The New Secretary

Stiles sat curled together on his seat on the plane, legs drawn up and a sketchbook on his knees. The weight against his shoulder was comforting, felt like home. Isaac next to him was snoring slightly, rubbing his nose against Stiles' shoulder, scenting him even in his sleep. A small smile stretched over Stiles' lips as he reached out to run his fingers through the oversized puppy's hair.

Turning his head, he looked out of the small plane window, watching the way the endless water finally made room for land. His heart skipped a beat. They'd done it. They had left the US – left Beacon Hills – behind. Finally. Everything would be better, wherever they'd end up. For now, that was London. It had been the first flight out of LA that led to another continent and Stiles wanted as much distance to that cursed, fucked-up town as possible. London sounded good.

"Are we there yet?" Isaac asked in a sleepy voice, nuzzling him.

"Soon, pup," Stiles whispered, his arm still around Isaac. "Soon."

Fuck Beacon Hills. Fuck Scott. Fuck Theo. Fuck it all. Stiles got out and he took his pup with him. Even without a pack, he was still Pack Mom, as long as he had his pup. A sneer formed on his face at the thought of the pack that had rejected him, of how easy it had been for Theo to twist Scott, turn him against his oldest friend. All these years, all the things Stiles had done for him, and some well-placed comments from Theo were all it took. No more. They got out, he got out.

"We're going to have a new start," Stiles muttered, to himself, to Isaac, to fate itself. "A better life."

The hand not playing with Isaac's hair was gripping his pen tight. He was doodling, silly sketches. Twirls all over, three joined together, just pointless, meaningless symbols, but they looked pretty.

/break\

"Peter Hale, I am not your personal assistant, I am your paralegal."

Peter didn't even raise his eyes off the file he was reading when Lydia stormed into his office. He loved that girl fiercely, she was ruthless, brilliant, manipulative. Plus, she was on track to becoming a lawyer and Peter knew not many years from now, his firm was going to be Hale, Martin & Associates. Best addition he ever made to his pack.

"Someone needs to do it. On the ladder, you're below me."

Lydia's face scrunched up in annoyance. "Your dry-cleaning and fancy coffees and your lunch appointments are not my job, Alpha," Lydia spoke firmly. "Get. A. Personal. Assistant."

A low growl escaped Peter. "I won't trust someone who isn't pack with my dealings."

The redhead in front of him put her hands on her hips and stared at him unimpressed. "Well, then, convince one of the other betas to actually do this job, but it isn't mine."

And then she had the audacity to snort. "I can just see Derek being delighted to organize your and Chris' date nights. Jackson trying to figure out how dry-cleaning works."

This time, Peter also had to snort. He loved his pack, as much as they annoyed him at times, but they were all not fit for this either. Lydia was the only one he trusted to keep up with him. He was an incredibly busy man who always juggled ten things at a time, was the most sought out defense lawyer in London, the Alpha of a pack of werewolves, husband and father – there was a lot that needed his attention. Lydia, she was quick and clever, she could keep up with all the tasks he gave her. She also was part of his pack, so she knew about the supernatural. What was Peter supposed to do with a human from whom he'd have to keep everything?

"This is my last warning, Peter," Lydia raised her eyebrows. "Get a personal assistant, or I'm quitting. Jackson's father is dying to have me work for his law-firm too."

She wiggled her hand, her engagement ring glinting in the light. Jackson Whittemore, whose father David was a lawyer himself. Peter and him had battled in court a couple times before. He wasn't bad, but he was no Peter Hale. So Peter knew this was an empty threat. Still, though…

"Fine," Peter heaved a sigh. "Will you put together a listing…?"

"One last time I'll do something that's not part of my job," Lydia smiled pleased.

/break\

Chris was holding his cup of coffee between both hands, looking out of the kitchen window into their backyard. His daughter Allison was outside with her bow, practicing. He had very mixed feelings about it. Though he'd taught her his own way, seeing her embrace their hunter heritage sent his thoughts swirling with memories of his family, the family he'd left behind in Beacon Hills all these years ago. He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes.

For so many years, Chris had done everything in his power to be the perfect soldier, the perfect son. He pushed down his homosexuality, he married the strong and beautiful woman his father picked for him from an allied, influential hunter family, he had a daughter, an heir.

And then he met Peter Hale and fell madly, deeply in love, in a way he never thought he could. But it was the Hale Fire that changed everything. The death of nearly all of Peter's family, leaving Peter in a coma and his nephew and nieces all alone and lost. They were just kids. Cora was so small, Derek was only fifteen, Laura was barely legal, not in any way ready to take care of her siblings.

It was the biggest fight Chris ever had with his family and he understood it. They were werewolf hunters and he wanted to take in three orphaned wolves. And then Victoria accused him, knowing there was more to this than just charity. Knew that Chris had been sleeping with Peter.

They got divorced, it was an ugly divorce and Chris had to fight to take custody of Laura, Cora and Derek. He thought he could share custody of Allison with his now ex-wife, but then Kate came back. His baby sister, she came back and she snarled at him for taking in Hales, for caring about Hales, and he realized the truth. The ugly truth that Kate had killed Peter's family, had done it for revenge because she'd known Chris was in love with Peter. It had all been Chris' fault.

When Chris realized that these sociopaths were with whom he'd leave his daughter – there was no flinching, no condoning, when Gerard and Victoria were confronted with Kate's actions – they ran. The Hales had funds, millions of dollars from too many life insurances that had all gone to the survivors. In the middle of the night, Chris had Peter flown out with a medical helicopter, and he packed everything important and his four kids and followed.

They lived in New York, until Peter was recovered enough to speak and move again. The strength of his pack-bonds, of his mate and the cubs, helped his recovery, so did the Alpha spark that he had inherited from his sister, as the oldest living Hale.

Peter became the Alpha of the Hale Pack and as small and broken as it was, with only Chris, Peter, Laura, Derek, Cora and Allison, it was a good pack. A good family. A family Chris loved.

There was no hiding the truth from Allison anymore, she didn't understand why she had to leave her mom, why she couldn't contact their family, and living with four born wolves, she needed to know the truth, even if she was still so young. His wide-eyed little princess, she thought it was cool. Werewolves. Like in the movies and shows. She'd giggled the first time Laura showed her shift-form and flashed her eyes at Allison and it had warmed Chris' heart.

Generations of hatred and bigotry and he had gotten his daughter out before she could be victim to his family's indoctrination. She still had a chance, to be happy and have a normal life.

And yet here she was, practicing archery with silver arrows in their backyard. And it made him feel tense and nervous. He knew, he knew she would not harm the innocent. He'd raised her better than that. But seeing her use the chosen weapons of his old family just made him think of what his father would have twisted her into, would still try to twist her into if he got his hands on her.

"You worry too much, my love."

Chris tensed for only a moment, torn out of his dark thoughts, but then he relaxed when his husband wrapped his arms around Chris' waist. Taking a slow, deep breath, Chris leaned against Peter's chest. His solace, his love, his Alpha. Sure, Chris was the one who'd helped Peter heal, had helped his recovery and his physical therapy and had watched over the kids while Peter was still in a coma, but what Peter had done for him? Showing him love, showing him family and pack? It had saved Chris from a fate worse than death, he knew that, deep down.

"I can't help but worry," Chris argued. "She's still my little girl, even if she may be twenty. And the things our pack gets involved in, it's… dangerous. I worry about them all, all our betas, but the wolves at least have their supernatural healing. Allison doesn't."

"I'm more than aware of that," Peter grumbled, nuzzling Chris' neck. "I have the same worries about you too, Christopher. You don't have supernatural healing either but you throw yourself head first into every danger and fight too. She's… her father's daughter."

Peter's hands trailed up Chris' stomach, deliberately tracing scars from years of hunting. Chris huffed. He knew his husband was right, on both accounts. He heaved a deep breath.

"How's the assistant hunting going?" Chris asked, to change the topic. "Heard from Allison that Lydia finally convinced you to hire someone. Very good, because I was starting to fear she may kill you one day if you don't. She's your paralegal, not your girl for everything."

It was Peter's turn to grumble at that. "I have interviewed six failures so far."

"Peter," Chris heaved a sigh. "You gotta give one of them a chance."

"No," Peter glared, Chris could hear the glare in his voice. "My personal assistant would have to coordinate pack things, would have to understand my needs as a werewolf. All these doe-eyed humans are just not fit for the job. Besides, they can't keep up with me either. What good is an assistant when they stumble over instructions and are overwhelmed by a few tasks?"

"Well, then get one for their doe-eyes," Chris rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me?" Peter huffed out a laugh.

"You heard me, Peter," Chris offered a half shrug. "Lydia is very done with you on this matter. You need an assistant. If you don't trust them with the tasks to the point of not even giving them a chance to prove themselves, then hire one for their pretty doe-eyes. Get yourself some eye-candy into the office, and maybe they will prove themselves."

"Mister Hale," Peter purred delighted, kissing Chris' neck. "Are you trying to make me seduce a non-existent assistant here? How very naughty."

Chris gave another half-shrug. "I'm not telling you to fuck them over your desk, but if something pretty to look at is the motivation you need to hire someone, then do it."

"Mh…" Peter made an intrigued noise.

"The fucking over your desk can still come later once they proved themselves."

Peter sputtered out a laugh and Chris turned around in his arms to properly kiss him. Though Chris was mostly teasing here and making fun of his husband, the two of them had taken plenty pretty twinks home with them over the years, they'd always enjoyed sharing.

/break\

Stiles was sitting at their kitchen table, legs crossed beneath him. The newspaper was spread out on the table in front of him. He was already working two jobs, waiting tables at a cafe and bartending at a club around the corner, but it just wasn't enough. It never was. Him and Isaac were already living in a shitty, tiny rathole of an apartment and rent was still too damn high. Not to mention the amount of food a werewolf could eat – not that he'd say that one out loud, Isaac would just look so unfathomably guilty at that. And now Stiles' laptop broke. He needed a new one.

His life had fallen apart so much, he was hanging in by a threat. Him and Isaac were surviving here, but not quite living. His research, his hyperfixations on weird supernatural occurrences, that was his escape, that was his. If he couldn't do that anymore, he was going to break. It was his distraction, from all the bad fucking memories of all the bad fucking things that had happened in Beacon Hills. He'd thrown himself entirely into his research and work and taking care of Isaac to keep himself from spiraling. He needed this. So he needed more money, to get it fixed.

"What you need isn't a better job," Isaac offered. "Because neither of us has any kind of qualification for an actual better job. What you need is a sugar daddy, Stiles."

"Fuck you," Stiles sputtered, throwing a pillow at his pup.

Isaac was sprawled out on their bed – because there wasn't much more in their one room apartment, a bed, a table, two chairs squeezed in. They had the tiny bathroom too, thankfully enough, because Stiles had absolutely drawn the line at the apartments that shared bathrooms with the entire floor. Nope, no way, no sir. Stiles had some standards, regardless of how painfully broke they were.

"C'mon, you know I'm right," Isaac grinned teasingly. "You haven't gotten laid since we got here. I know. I can smell it. Which also, I wish I couldn't. But yeah. Two birds, one stone. You could go and seduce a filthy rich guy and we could live off of him."

"Ah, yes," Stiles gave Isaac a pointed look, voice completely dry. "So many rich guys are into twenty year old single moms of young, bratty werewolf pups."

Stiles threw an apple at Isaac, getting an oof from the other boy as the apple his him in the stomach. Then Isaac picked it up and took a bite out of it. It wasn't even that Isaac was wrong. Stiles was horny and absolutely desperate for physical contact from someone not Isaac. Pack cuddles with his pup were great, but he wanted something very different. But dating was made harder for Stiles on account of Isaac – he was way too prone for feelings, he couldn't risk his heart with someone who didn't know werewolves existed, couldn't drag anyone into this life. And his and Isaac's relationship was impossible to explain to someone who wasn't a wolf. Fuck, it would be a hard sell even to a werewolf, Stiles guessed. A Pack Mom without a pack.

"This looks good," Stiles spoke absentmindedly as he circled a job listing. "Personal assistant. Doesn't really sound like it requires too many qualifications. And lawyer should pay well."

"Again: Just get a sugar daddy and then you could stop working and start going to college, as you absolutely should because your brain is totally wasted waiting tables."

"Isaac, I love you, pup, but drop it," Stiles warned him with one look.

Isaac heaved a sigh but he thankfully obeyed. They both knew that Stiles could go places with his intellect, knew that he was meant to absorb more knowledge at college. But college didn't pay the bills. They had to prioritize and a roof over head was more important than education.

/break\

Peter knew his husband had manipulated him, but he wasn't mad about it. He found it quite delightful and saw it as a sign that he had rubbed off on Christopher over the years. Besides, he did like Chris' angle. Even if the assistant proved useless, it would be nice to have a bit of eye-candy around. So yes, he was going to just hire the prettiest little thing that'd walk through his door.

"Mister Hale, your next interview is here," Lydia announced. "Mister Stilinski."

She stepped into the office, followed by someone. Once she was close enough, he ran an arm down her arm, scent-marking her in passing. She tilted her head a little bit in return, silent submission to her Alpha. It was subtle enough but it pleased Peter and Lydia knew that he needed the calming effect his betas' submission had before one of these interviews. The more idiotic applicants were really testing his patience and the last thing he needed was to go all fangs and claws on someone.

"Please, sit down," Peter motioned at the chair opposite him.

Lydia grabbed a couple files off his desk before sauntering out of the office again. Only when the door closed behind her did his eyes land on Mister Stilinski. Peter froze in surprise as the largest, prettiest doe-eyes stared at him that he had ever seen. Wide, a dark honey-whiskey color with long lashes casting shadows on pale cheeks. Peter swallowed. That much for hiring a doe-eyed beauty, if nothing else, hm. A pretty face too, with a cute upturned nose, pink lips, tousled brown hair that looked like the boy had run his fingers through it in a nervous habit before coming into the office.

"Thank you for the chance, Mister Hale," Stilinski offered him a smile.

He really was pretty. That would be a treat to look at every day. Peter rested his elbow on his desk, supporting his head as he drank in the sight. Long, pale neck, begging to be marked up. Slender frame, long legs thrown over each other, thighs that would look good wrapped around Chris' waist.

"Why do you think you're the right choice for this job?" Peter asked curiously. "I'm a very demanding employer, I'm a busy man with important cases. I need someone who can keep up with me, who will not forget or mix up my appointments, who isn't above the smaller jobs either. I will demand many random errands too, I have a… large family that demands my attention."

"I'm very good at multitasking, I'm not above getting you your favorite coffee order from across town if that's what you need from me, I'll keep your calendar organized, I can run any errands you'll need me to, and I'll accommodate you for all your… other needs."

That gave Peter a tense pause and made him wonder if he had leered at the boy a little too obviously. Was he coming onto Peter? That was… very daring. Not necessarily in an appreciated manner, considering the way Peter was sitting and drawing attention to the wedding band on his hand. He liked taking a pretty thing home, with his husband, when they were very clear about their shared interest and intention. What he didn't appreciate too much was when people hit on him regardless of his wedding ring. Cheating wasn't something Peter condoned, even if that may be a hypocritical thing to say, considering how his relationship with Christopher had started. Then again, his very gay husband had been forced into an arranged, loveless marriage with a cold woman who didn't love him either, so he had never quite found it in himself to feel too guilty in that case.

His eyes were steely. "I'm unsure what you are implying there, Mister Stilinski."

"You're a werewolf," the boy said, surprising Peter even more. "I assume that will entail special accommodations to your schedule and your… needs."

A low warning growl escaped Peter. "How do you know that."

The broad, smug smirk on the boy's lips should not be as tempting as it was. "You were scent-marking Miss Martin when she approached your desk earlier and she, in return, bared her throat to you, which makes me think you're not just a werewolf, you're an Alpha. The 'large family' you spoke of, I am assuming is your pack. And your calendar looks quite full, but you have no appointments on the three days of the full moon, which stands out."

"Clever boy," Peter raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know about werewolves? I would have smelled if you were a wolf yourself, Mister Stilinski."

"I'm…" Stilinski leaned back, a calculating look on his face. "I used to be in a werewolf pack, before I moved to London. So I have a lot of experience with werewolves and… ah, werewolf needs. I know how to treat wolfsbane injuries, I know about pack dynamics, I know what to look out for in regards to potential… dangers and such."

There was more to that. The boy was something, he'd started that sentence with I'm, before redirecting. He wasn't ready to share what he was yet, but he was not human. Intriguing.

"I'm intrigued," Peter admitted amused. "Tomorrow, eight AM, do not be late. I prefer the espresso from the Silver Moon café."

These big doe-eyes blinked at him confused. "What."

Peter offered a wolfish grin and a flash of red eyes. "You're hired, Mister Stilinski."

/break\

Chris was sitting at a table in the Silver Moon, coffee and a croissant in front of him. When Peter came home yesterday, he'd been far too wired up. Apparently, he'd hired a pretty doe-eyed assistant – and even better yet, that assistant was in the know about the supernatural. Chris was curious, considering how horny Peter had been yesterday, so he wanted to see the boy for himself.

"There you go, Alpha," Erica grinned as she placed a plate of eggs in front of him.

"Thanks, kid," Chris smiled at her, gently touching her arm.

The Silver Moon was the café their betas Boyd and Erica owned and ran together. The mated pair worked well together, Boyd in the kitchen in the back, Erica up front behind the counter and, if there were not too many customers, she'd also bring the food to the table.

"Oh, hey, we are still on for shopping today afternoon, right?" Allison asked.

"Sure," Erica gave her a thumbs-up. "Meet you and Lydia at four."

She hurried back behind the counter when the bell over the door chimed. Chris' eyes fell onto the person entering the shop. A lanky kid, no older than the betas, all pale skin with moles, messy hair that looked like it was made for someone to grab and tug it, bow-shaped, pink lips. It were the big, brown eyes though that tipped Chris off. The definition of doe-eyed. Chris snorted.

"Hi," the boy grinned, bouncing on his feet. "Uhm, please one espresso, two black coffees and one vanilla frappuccino to go. Also, holy shit, that looks really good, one of those croissants, please."

"Sure thing," Erica nods. "Name?"

"Stiles," the doe-eyed twink offers.

"Take a seat, I'll call your name when your order's ready."

Stiles wandered over to sit down in the booth next to Allison and Chris, long legs stretched out into the store as he leaned back, his back cracking in a very unnatural sounding way, causing Chris to wince. Allison narrowed her eyes, having noticed her father's focus on the boy.

"You are not picking a guy for yourself and dad while we are having breakfast," she hissed.

Chris coughed surprised. Well, his and Peter's relationship wasn't a secret – there were no secrets in a pack of werewolves. Allison, thankfully enough, was very accepting of their polyamorous nature, she just asked for them to not parade around one-night-stands in their home.

"I'm not, Allison," Chris chuckled, motioning his head a little toward the kid.

But as he did so, he noticed the boy was looking at him, was now making direct eye-contact with him. It gave him enough pause not to continue speaking. Had the kid overheard her? It had been so low he had barely heard, but then Peter had said the kid may be something supernatural too.

"Did my new boss send his husband to spy on me?"

Chris raised his eyebrows, regarding the boy. "He did not. I got curious on my own. How…?"

"Wedding picture on his desk. Picture of you both and who I assume to be your daughter," Stiles motioned at Allison. "Right next to it. I'm observant."

"Mh," Chris tilted his head, unable to deny the thrill this boy was giving him. "You are going to spend a lot of time with my husband and I like to get my own impression."

Stiles got up and moved to sit down next to Allison, right opposite Chris. Allison scooted over with one raised eyebrow, looking between Chris and Stiles. The boy folded his arms in front of himself on the table, grinning at Chris and leaning forward a little. It drew attention to his neck. Oh, Chris knew exactly what kind of thoughts Peter must have had at the span of pale skin.

"Hi," the boy held out a hand. "I'm Stiles. Nice to meet you, sir."

There was another thrill at the way 'sir' sounded coming from the boy. "Christopher Hale. My daughter, Allison. I'd like to apologize in advance for any growling my husband is going to do."

"Eh," Stiles shrugged. "I've had worse. I can handle a growling Alpha."

"Order up for Stiles," Erica called out, interrupting them.

The pretty twink got up and walked back to the counter. Chris couldn't help but stare at his perky ass. Once he had his order, the bag with the croissant stuck under his arm, the carrier with the four drinks in one hand, he took one of the black coffees and, much to Chris', Allison's and even Erica's horror, downed it in one go. He put the empty cup back onto the counter.

"You terrify me," Erica noted. "I like you."

Stiles offered a grin that was all teeth. "Thanks. I am guessing you're going to see me like five times a week from now on because my boss really likes your coffee."

At Erica's confused look did Chris speak up. "He's Peter's new assistant."

"Huh?" Stiles blinked confused and took the second black coffee.

Good lord, he wasn't going to drink two black coffees within a minute, was he? Chris watched in mortification as Stiles did exactly that. This boy sure was something. Shaking his head, Chris looked around. The café was empty. Chris, Allison, Stiles and Erica were the only ones.

"Erica and her mate run the café. They're also part of our pack," Chris offered. "That's why Peter made you go all this way, since it's not exactly around the corner of the law-firm."

Stiles turned those doe-eyes on Erica, like he was taking her in again. "Interesting."

There was so much calculation in his gaze, as though he was scheming. A look Chris was all too familiar with from his husband. He found it far too charming. Smiling, he took a sip of his own drink, watching the boy step away from the counter.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then, Erica," Stiles waved with one hand, then turned toward Chris and Allison. "And I am assuming I'll be seeing you again too, Mister Hale."

With that, he walked out of the café, leaving Chris with an uneasy feeling. The boy was too pretty, too charming, too intriguing, too clever. This was going to be a big temptation for himself and for his husband. He wondered just how long Peter would last before caving and dragging that boy from the office back to the pack-house and into their marital bed to be shared with Chris.

/break\

When Stiles sauntered into the firm, he did so with all the confidence he didn't feel. His suit was cheap, he'd gotten it from a second hand store to look presentable for the job interview yesterday, but this whole office was so large and so pompous, the art on the walls was actually real and expensive, he recognized that. Some of the outfits the lawyers walking past him were wearing probably cost more than Stiles and Isaac's apartment. Hence the fake confidence. He worked here now, he was not going to let the side-eye from the lawyers make him feel like he didn't belong.

"Hello, Miss Martin, you are looking as beautiful as yesterday," Stiles smiled brightly.

Lydia Martin looked up from her desk, utterly unimpressed and waved her hand to show off her engagement ring. "Not interested, Mister Stilinski. But congratulations on the job."

"Oh," Stiles blinked and shook his head. "No. Sorry, that's just my, uh, personality. I'm flirty in nature. Not hitting on you. Super gay. Very gay. Here, I brought you a coffee."

"I don't drink-" Lydia paused as he put the drink down. "Is that a vanilla frappuccino?"

"Yep, you were drinking one yesterday, while I was waiting for the interview," Stiles smiled brightly at her. "And since the big boss sent me to fetch him coffee, I figured I'd bring you one too. Seems you're always hard working and I thought it might be a good way to get off the right foot."

Lydia pursed her lips as she took a sip. "Lydia. You can call me Lydia."

"I'm Stiles," Stiles grinned in victory. "Looking forward to working with you, Lydia."

A small smile played on Lydia's lips as she nodded. "I do think you could be… interesting."

With that ominous sentence did Stiles head into the office of his new boss. It was exactly eight o'clock, he was expected, right? Taking a shaky breath he walked in, finding Peter Hale behind the desk. The man looked up, one eyebrow raised. Waiting. After a moment, Stiles approached and put the coffee down in front of him. Peter still looked at him kind of weirdly.

"Erica said you paid for the coffee," Peter frowned.

"Uhm. Yes? I don't… steal?" Stiles offered, confused.

Peter rolled his eyes in exasperation and then pushed a credit card over the table. "My husband was supposed to cover your bill this morning, but apparently you threw him off by… downing two black coffees in under two minutes and he only noticed when you were already gone. I wasn't expecting you to pay for my coffee out of your own pocket, Mister Stilinski."

Oh. That kind of made sense, but he had been too euphoric about the new job, he hadn't even questioned it. His eyes landed on the credit card, doubtful. Peter pushed it further toward him.

"I expect you to be on time and to bring me coffee every morning. You'll pay any and all expenses that I require with this," Peter tapped the card. "And yes, your coffee order goes on that too."

"But…" Stiles trailed off, adjusting the bag under his arm with the croissant a little.

Peter's very captivating ice-blue eyes landed on it. "Your breakfast too."

"But," Stiles tried again, unsure how to put it.

"If I sent you somewhere to fetch coffee or food for me, I expect you to get something for yourself too," Peter stated, leaning back in his chair, his eyes intense on Stiles. "Lydia!"

After a moment, Lydia stuck her head in, glaring. "Not. Your. Assistant. You have a Stiles now."

"I have a what now," Peter looked at her in puzzlement.

"Stiles," Stiles lifted a hand. "Uh, I prefer to go by Stiles. It's a nickname."

"Stiles," Peter tasted the name in his mouth. "Lydia, you're going out shopping with Erica and Allison today, right? Please take Stiles with you, he needs a new wardrobe."

"I'm good," Stiles squeaked. "I can't-"

Peter pushed the credit-card fully over the desk, very insistent. "I'm not expecting you to spend thousands on suits that I require you to wear, Stiles. The credit card is for anything I require you to buy or ask you to buy. Stop looking at me like that."

Reluctantly did Stiles pocket the credit card after another moment. Lydia heaved a sigh.

"Fi—ine. But only because my fingers are itching to dress that boy in something appropriate. This suit makes me feel sad and miserable," Lydia regarded Stiles. "No offense."

Stiles stared at her bewildered. "Unsure how I could possibly not take offense to that."

/break\

Peter was positively surprised by Mister Stilinski. Stiles. The highest of his expectations had been to get to look at these big doe-eyes and have something pretty in his office. He loved himself a pretty piece of prey and those eyes, mh, they did the trick. But then the boy had surprised him by knowing about the supernatural and he had surprised Peter even more by what a quick study he was.

That first day, Peter might have been a bit more demanding than he usually would be. It was a test. From the coffee order – to see if the boy would be able to remember the name of the store as well as the order, to see what he would do once there (and mh, the fact that the boy had recognized Chris all on his own from having glanced at the photos on Peter's desk pleased him immensely. Clever boy) – to every other task given. He basically sent the kid from one corner of the city to the next, dry-cleaning, going to pick a client up for Peter, delivering some files to the court house. He'd wanted to see if the boy was self-sufficient, knew his way around the city and was clever enough to figure out how to do things without Peter holding his hand. And he proved to be all of that and more.

"You look like the big, bad wolf who actually ate Bambi," Chris furrowed his brows as he approached his husband. "Did you eat Bambi?"

"Bambi is out getting new suits with Lydia," Peter waved a dismissive hand. "Besides, you're mixing your stories up there. The big bad wolf didn't get Bambi. The huntsman did."

Chris cocked an eyebrow and refrained from commenting further. Oh, Peter could see it in his husband's eyes, that Christopher had seen how pretty Bambi was. Smirking like the predator he was, Peter wrapped his arms around Chris' waist to pull him into a slow, deep kiss.

"The kid's going to be a problem, isn't he," Chris asked against Peter's lips.

A casual shrug. Perhaps, Peter wasn't sure yet. He hadn't been this attracted to a third party in a very long time, it might become a problem that the kid now worked for him, but that was a bridge for future Peter to cross. Current Peter got to kiss his husband and had no worries in this world.

/break\

After visiting his husband, Chris made his way to the preferred suit shop of Peter's, knowing he was most likely to find Lydia and entourage there. A small smile spread over his lips as he spotted Allison, Lydia and Erica sprawled out on the expensive leather couch, holding champagne.

"Come out, Stiles," Lydia demanded annoyed.

"I'm gay," Stiles called back without missing a beat.

Lydia simply rolled her eyes, while Chris choked on a laugh. "Not what I meant, honey."

"Hey, dad," Allison side-eyed him as she spotted her father. "What brings you here?"

"Curiosity," Chris offered after a moment.

There was no lying to his daughter, after all. Not entirely, at least. Perhaps the half-truth would suffice for now. Erica scooted over, throwing her legs over Lydia's lap and making room for Chris. An employee brought Chris a flute of champagne and bowed. Damn did Chris hate these fancy places, but that was one of the sides of being a Hale, he supposed. Peter liked it fancy.

"I look ridiculous," Stiles complained as he finally got out of the changing room.

"You look hot," Erica corrected. "Big Bruce Wayne vibes. Very Batman."

"Thanks, Catwoman," Stiles rolled his eyes. "I feel more like Dick Grayson stealing Bruce's suit for the very first time. This is... so not me."

He spread his arms and turned around once. Chris appreciated the view. The suit hugged his body in all the right places, drawing attention to his very well-formed ass and long legs. Those legs, Chris wondered what they'd feel like around his waist... or look like around Peter's head. Erica's cackling and her side-eye toward him told him that he hadn't fully masked his rising arousal. He offered his beta a sharp glare to shut her up. It only partially worked.

"Nonsense, you look good, and besides, this is who you are now," Lydia raised her chin. "You work for the most wanted defense attorney in this city, you represent the Hale name. You have to look the part, if you want to or not."

"This costs more than my car," Stiles muttered dejectedly. "Actually, more than my last two cars together. What the fuck."

"Don't look at the price-tags," Chris chided firmly. "Peter's paying for it."

"Mister Hale," Stiles startled, like he had only just noticed him. "Uhm. What... are you doing here?"

"I got curious when Peter mentioned that he had given you to Lydia as a sacrificial lamb," Chris smirked bemused. "That's always entertaining."

Lydia got up and picked three more suits for Stiles. "These ought to do for now, you will be fitted for something more personalized this Friday, do not miss the appointment."

"More personalized?" Stiles looked actually distressed at that. "This is ridiculous. I'm his secretary, not his new star attorney. I don't need a tailor-made suit."

Lydia gave him a withering glare. "Honey, everybody needs a tailor-made suit."

/break\

Stiles had actually survived his first week of working for Peter Hale. There had been a few close calls where he was pretty sure he was going to die – the suit shopping and the suit fitting were two such occasions, as well as that time he nearly got run over when rushing from the coffeeshop.

It was Monday morning and when he walked into the Silver Moon to get the usual coffee order, he was surprised to find Peter Hale there, sitting with his husband and their daughter. There were five tables, set together, creating a long sitting area. Erica herself was sitting down too, for once, between Allison and a really handsome, dark-skinned guy. There was a kind of arrogant looking blonde guy on Lydia's other side and a tall, dark and handsome guy with stubble on his chin at the end of the table, next to a brunette girl who looked a lot like him and also seemed weirdly familiar.

"Uhm..." Stiles' eyes darted around, unsure how to proceed.

"Sit down," Peter ordered, pulling out the chair between himself and Lydia.

"Uhm," Stiles repeated, wanting a bit more information.

"The pack has breakfast together every Monday, we open the store an hour later on Mondays to make time for it," the guy next to Erica supplied. "I'm Boyd, Erica's mate."

Right. So he had survived the first week and thus got to meet the entire pack then? Reluctantly, he walked over to sit down between Peter and Lydia, looking around.

"These are Cora, Derek and Jackson. The rest you already met, I believe" Peter said in lieu of introduction. "There is one more member to our pack, but she is studying abroad in Paris."

Stiles nodded slowly, offering an awkward wave. Erica started shoveling food onto the plate in front of him. It was set out a bit like a buffet, plates each staked high with pancakes, waffles, bacon, eggs, set out on the tables, everyone just taking whatever they wanted. It was… nice.

Jackson was Lydia's mate, that much became obvious quickly, by the way the two leaned into each other, whispered with each other, exchanged looks that spoke more than entire volumes. Erica kept nuzzling into her own mate too, Boyd having one hand near constantly entangled in her curls. Allison was bickering with Cora, while Derek kept adding his own two cents occasionally.

It was warm and comfortable and that only put Stiles more on edge. Something that's been bothering him for the entire past week now became an itch he needed to scratch. In an attempt to fight that impulse, he started fidgeting more, bouncing his leg, tapping his fingers.

"Stiles," Chris spoke slowly, watching him with sharp eyes. "Is something wrong? We didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with this invitation. It just seemed easier, considering the rest of the pack wanted to get to know you, now that you are going to be a big part of our Alpha's life."

The way Chris reached over the table to take his husband's hand at that last bit made Stiles' heart jump. Werewolf mates would always just really get him, they fucked him up bad. That kind of intense love and devotion? One could only dream about, really.

"It's not that," Stiles shook his head, pausing. "There's just… Something's been bugging me. But I don't know if it's my place to even bring it up. Probably not."

"Well, now you have to say it," Cora huffed, giving him a look.

Stiles turned toward her when she spoke and he couldn't help but stare. Why did she look so familiar? He felt like he'd seen her before. Where had he seen her before? He had such a good memory usually, why did this escape him. Something about her was eerily familiar.

"Why doesn't this place have wards," Stiles blurted out, before his brain could latch onto the Cora mystery. "The firm too. I don't get it. They're pack-owned. Why would you not protect them."

The others slowed down in their eating, individual conversations coming to a halt as everyone regarded him and great. Yeah. This was why he hadn't meant to bring it up. He grew more nervous.

"How do you know that there aren't wards?" Peter asked dryly.

"I mean, for one, my job interview? When you reacted surprised that I knew about the supernatural," Stiles tilted his head as he turned to look at the Alpha next to himself. "If your firm had wards, bare minimum is for them to trip if another supernatural creature walks in. Should have tipped you off about my presence and you shouldn't have been surprised that I knew."

Peter narrowed his eyes at him. "You're not human. You only said you knew because you were in a pack, you didn't say that you were non-human too, Stiles."

A casual shrug, and Stiles pulled one leg up against his chest, resting his arm on it. "See, now I know you don't have wards because you seriously don't know I'm not human."

"What are you?" Lydia was giving him the same look as Peter now.

"Rude question to ask," Stiles shrugged. "You didn't disclose that you're non-human and a non-wolf either, Lydia. I don't see how I owe you my nature."

"He's right," Chris' voice was sharp and he shot both Lydia and Peter a look. "He's your employee and coworker, he has a right to share this only if he is comfortable."

Stiles beamed at Chris at that, genuinely beamed. How long had it been since someone defended him? Much less defended his right to make decisions about and for himself. Damn, that was sad.

"You don't have to answer me either," Stiles offered after a moment, looking at Peter. "It's just, your husband asked what's bothering me and… the lack of wards is bothering me. But you don't owe me a reason or explanation. It just. It's the thing that's bothering me, that's all. Your pack is a big enough size to constitute an Emissary who should be behind these things."

His eyes involuntarily landed on Chris. That had been his running theory for the past week. Either Chris or Lydia were the Emissary of the Hale Pack, because neither of them were wolves. They scent-marked but they did it in a clear way that was learned behavior, not instinct.

Peter's sneer drew his attention. "Our pack doesn't have an Emissary. Let's say… I have made bad experiences with that in the past and I'm not trusting potential incompetence with my pack."

For a moment, Stiles processed that and then it sank in and made him snort out a laugh. Because yeah. Incompetent and untrustworthy Emissaries, like Alan Deaton. He froze the moment the name crossed his mind, his eyes landing on Peter. His heart-rate picked up rapidly and his eyes widened as the pieces that had been right in front of him slotted together.

His reaction was obvious not just to the wolves and now everyone was staring intensely at him, most of them with something akin to concern, but all Stiles could do was stare at Peter.

"You're Peter Hale," Stiles whispered stunned.

"Are… Are you having a stroke, darling?"

The words could have been sarcastic, but Peter's voice was genuinely worried and okay yeah maybe Stiles must look like he was having some kind of episode there, sitting frozen and staring at him with his heart racing, stating a very obvious fact he had been aware of for a whole fucking week. His head snapped over to Derek and Cora, his mouth falling open.

"You're Derek and Cora Hale," Stiles hissed, pointing at Cora. "That's why you look so damn familiar! Fuck. Fucking elementary school. And you! I remember you, with your stupid basketball, thinking you look so cool when dropping Cora off for class, like you were all that."

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek. The stupid middle-schooler with his stupid basketball and talented hands. All the girls in his class always giggled whenever he'd dropped his sister off. Stiles slowly looked around when he realized that it had gotten eerily quiet. All eyes on him.

Not that Stiles had time to focus on them – on the Hale Pack, fuck – no, Stiles was too deep in his head. This couldn't be real. They were alive. They were actually alive. Stiles clasped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening in horror when other things started coming together. The horror was directly followed by a hollow, dark and ugly laugh as he felt like reality was slipping from him. He started pressing his thumbs hard against the pads of his fingers, one by one, counting his fingers, counting that this was real, checking that this wasn't a trick of his mind.

"I ran all the fucking way across the ocean to escape that fucking hell-hole and I end up with the last survivors of the Hale Pack," Stiles muttered to himself. "This can absolutely not be real. This isn't real. This must be in my head. There's no way. I worked too damn hard to get out, I can't-"

He couldn't breath anymore, everything was spinning, his chest felt too tight and his lungs couldn't fill and his eyes were unfocused and why wasn't there enough air in the room-?

"Stiles," Chris' voice was sharp and firm, jolting him into a semblance of focus. "I need you to slow down your breathing, you're having a panic-attack. Can you breath in deep and hold, like this?"

When had Chris gotten up and walked around the table? Why was he kneeling in front of Stiles now, holding him by the arms, talking to him? Stiles took a shuddering breath but it wasn't enough, it just wasn't enough, why did his chest feel like it couldn't take any more air in? A sob wrecked his body and he doubled over. He was losing it, again. Maybe he never had it, maybe everything had been a trick from the Nogitsune, him and Isaac getting out, getting a new start, maybe he was still stuck in Beacon Hills, had never gotten out, never gotten his mind back.

"I can't go back, I can't go back," Stiles sobbed, shaking his head. "I can't-"

"Breath," Chris instructed, a clear command. "Stop thinking and just breath with me."

It took longer, Stiles didn't know how long – didn't want to know how long – for him to regain his bearings and when he did, he blearily looked around. He was comfy and warm and felt oddly safe. Which was not exactly how the aftermath of his panic-attacks usually went. They weren't at the table anymore. They were on the ground. Chris was on the ground. Stiles was on Chris. On Chris' lap, to be exact. The older man had his arms around Stiles, was holding him close. Peter sat next to them, a grounding hand in Stiles' neck. The rest of the pack was also sitting on the ground, around them in a circle. It looked nearly protective, like something they'd do to shield a vulnerable pack-member. Stiles liked that sentiment, even though he knew it was probably about their Alphas.

"Fuck," Stiles rubbed his face. "Second week on the job and I have a panic-attack in front of my boss and somehow end up in his husband's lap. Great going, Stilinski."

"Stiles," Peter's voice was surprisingly soft. "You don't need to be ashamed of having a panic-attack and you're in Christopher's lap because you only started calming down once you were held down. The restriction seemed to make you feel grounded."

"Oh," Stiles blinked sluggishly. "Okay."

"You will have to explain yourself though," Peter raised his eyebrows at him. "How you recognized us and why… why that sent you into a panic-attack."

Stiles still rubbed at the tear-streaks on his cheeks, feeling so, so tired. Too tired to argue or fight or storm out. Even though he probably should. His instincts were in conflict. Some of them told him to run, grab Isaac and run even further, as far away as possible. But other instincts, instincts he hadn't indulged in in literal years at this point, told him that he was safe and that he should never get up from the safe comfort of Chris' lap. Sighing, Stiles rested his cheek against Chris' shoulder.

"I worked so hard to leave Beacon Hills behind, to leave your family's legacy behind and I somehow manage to run into your family, of all people," Stiles muttered frustrated. "Cora and I went to elementary school together. Pretty sure I said that before my freakout."

"Stiles," Cora tilted her head with a frown. "Oh, you were the loud kid who always was glued to the side of that quiet, shy kid that always wheezed during recess."

Stiles couldn't help but flinch at the reminder of Scott, of back when Scott had still been his best friend, his other half, when they used to be inseparable. Tears welled in his eyes again. The reminder of Scott usually didn't make him cry anymore, but he was still raw from the aftermath of his panic-attack. A gentle hand wiped his tears away and he turned to look at Peter.

"What do you mean you were running from our family's legacy," Peter wanted to know.

He sounded much more patient than he should, honestly. How had he not threatened to just rip Stiles' throat out at this point. Stiles would identify himself as a threat to his pack, if he were Peter. Bitterness overtook him as Peter's question really sank in. He curled together, making himself small on Chris' lap, absolutely not caring that he was still sitting there. As long as Chris wasn't going to push him off, Stiles was absolutely not giving up the first safe place he'd been in in years.

"I told you I was part of a pack," Stiles' voice felt hallow even to himself. "That was back in Beacon Hills. But you know what happened when there was a new pack in Beacon Hills?"

Rhetoric question, they probably didn't. Nobody spoke or interrupted him. Or pushed him to explain faster. Why were they being so patient. Nobody was patient with Stiles. Aside from Isaac.

"The people who tried to kill your entire family came back to finish the job, because surely an Alpha in Beacon Hills meant that the survivors of the Hale Pack had returned to reclaim their territory," Stiles felt oddly dead inside as he remembered those early days.

"The people…" Peter's voice wavered and he looked at Stiles, past Stiles.

"The Argents," Stiles snarled, curling tighter, pressing a hand against his shoulder. "Kate came to finish the job she'd started. Hunted us like animals for months."

Peter noticed the way Stiles' fingers clawed into his own shoulder. Curiosity got the better of the Alpha and he unbuttoned Stiles' shirt enough to push it aside and see what Stiles was holding onto.

"That's a gun-shot wound," Peter pointed out, voice dark.

"Yeah, heard the part where I said 'hunted us like animals'? I was being very literal there. She chased us through the preserver, trying to shoot us all down," Stiles turned his head away from Peter, instead burying his face in Chris' chest. "Ironically, she was only the start of our problems."

He noticed how stiff Chris had gone, completely rigid beneath Stiles. Right. All of this was his husband's trauma, Chris was probably worried about his mate. Well, as long as Chris wasn't going to push him off, Stiles was very selfishly not getting off his lap because it was his trauma too. If he wanted to comfort his mate, he'd first have to physically remove Stiles himself.

"She's in prison," Stiles noted belatedly, looking at Peter, Derek and Cora. "For mass murder and grand arson. My dad… My dad was the sheriff at the time, he put her behind bars. Well. We put her behind bars. He didn't know about the supernatural back then. And I was feeling petty. Because my Alpha didn't find murder a sufficient method of getting rid of a threat, even if that threat kept fucking shooting us with wolfsbane bullets – which, fyi, hurt like a bitch even if you're not a werewolf. Fun fact there. So I had to get more creative to get rid of her. And her… obsession with the Hales was… well, it set me on the right course. I just needed to get all the evidence and bahm."

If he'd have more energy, he would have added jazz-hands for effect there. As it stood, he just wanted to go to sleep. Chris was very comfy, even though he was still rigid as steel. He tucked his hand under his ribs, pressing against them hard, balling a fist in the expensive fabric of his shirt.

"Daddy dearest wasn't a fan of his deranged daughter going to prison for killing werewolves," Stiles continued, too tired to stop, too raw to stop. "Gerard Argent came to town a couple months later and he was hell-bent on revenge. You should have seen his fucking face when he realized a fifteen year old wise-ass brat had gotten his daughter convicted."

"You were how old," Derek's voice was a distressed growl.

A tired half-shrug. "Yeah. Childhood in Beacon Hills. Rainbows, sunshine, kittens and murderous hunters all inclusive. He was a better hunter than his daughter though. She was wild, unhinged, lashing out. He was precise, direct, effective. Captured us. Held us captive for days. Couldn't believe that a bunch of kids had outsmarted the great Argent family, was so damn sure there was a Hale somewhere pulling the strings. Tried torturing your location out of us."

His knuckles were white with how hard he was grabbing his shirt, effectively pulling it out of the confines of his pants. Peter's hand was gentle when it grabbed his, but Stiles didn't move.

"Kicked in my ribs," Stiles muttered in a detached voice. "Punctured my lungs. Nearly killed me. Makes my panic-attacks all the more fun because being unable to breath is just another trigger, so it's like a spiral from one panic into the next. Fun times for Stiles."

He just wanted to sleep. He knew he couldn't. Shouldn't. Thinking about the Nogitsune only meant he was going to have horrible nightmares and most likely another panic attack. But in all fairness, how likely was it that he ran into the Hales in fucking London? Of course did that seem unreal.

"Stiles, that's horrible," Lydia looked genuinely devastated.

Erica and Boyd were clinging onto each other, looking at him with horror and pity. Erica had grown attached to him quickly, she probably made her mate second-hand-attached to him. Poor Boyd.

"Yeah, those were the easy times," Stiles stated dryly. "Things got worse from thereon out. That's why we got out. As far away from that hell-hole. But you get it now? That your family legacy's been one of the things I ran away from? And that seeing you here is… it feels unreal."

"I… do understand that," Peter frowned at him so softly, so worried. "I'm sorry."

"Fuck," Stiles heaved a sigh. "It's not your fucking fault. That's not. I didn't mean it like that. I don't blame you for the deranged hunters who were trying to murder you! I'm just… I always thought you were dead, I thought she was just being a paranoid bitch. Honestly, this actually makes the getting tortured to give up your location bit feel a little better, because hey, you actually were alive. It was really annoying when I thought I was getting tortured for nothing, you know."

"You absolutely need to stop being so glib about this," Jackson said, sounding a little nauseous.

"Sarcasm is how I cope," Stiles drawled, giving him a deadpan expression.

There was a silent conversation happening over his head, between Chris and Peter. Stiles was too exhausted to pay closer attention to it or try to decipher it. He just closed his eyes. A nap sounded good. His eyes snapped open and he bolted up. Nope. No sleeping after a panic-attack.

"Stiles…?" Allison asked in a near small voice. "Are you… alright?"

"Yeah, no," Stiles shook his head. "Got too tired there for a moment."

"Maybe you should go and lay down," Peter suggested gently.

"No," Stiles' voice was sharp. "Can't. Can't sleep after a panic attack. There are only worse panic attacks waiting for me in that direction. What I need to do is keep my mind occupied and get it exhausted enough so I might actually maybe sleep tonight."

"That doesn't sound healthy," Derek pointed out, impressive eyebrows furrowed.

"Never claimed it was," Stiles shrugged. "But it's been working for me for years now. Also, after all the soul-bearing I just did, I'd… really like to get out of here. So, please. Just. Give me something to do, Alpha. I need something to do."

There was a flash of red eyes at Stiles' unintentional use of the title. Stiles swallowed hard. Damn, that looked hot on Peter Hale. No. Nope. Not getting attracted to his hot, married boss.

"Fine," Peter heaved a sigh. "I'll text you the next few errands I have for you."

/break\

After that day at the café, Peter felt an irrationally strong sense of protectiveness over Stiles. The boy had suffered for the Hale Pack, without even being part of it. And when he had barely been a pup – fifteen years old, being hunted by the Argents. He kept an extra eye on Stiles, made sure that when he sent the boy out on an errant, he could be sure at least one pack member would be close by to watch over Stiles. And Peter was very pleased that his pack didn't even have to be commanded to do so. No, after the way Stiles had broken down, they were all attached to him.

"Stiles," Peter smiled pleased when the boy walked into the office. "Come here. Sit."

Stiles stared at him with suspicion and confusion. "Did… I forget to book a luncheon for you, sir?"

Peter had a table set with rumpsteak, green beans and roasted potatoes, two glasses of wine. "No. Come and eat with me, I didn't feel like eating alone today and Christopher is busy."

Stiles looked wary for another moment before he shrugged and then just plopped down opposite him. "I am not saying no to a free meal. We've had ramen for the past three nights."

"Why," Peter made a disturbed face.

"...Because we don't have money?" Stiles gave him a pointed look. "I only started working for you three weeks ago, not like I got my first paycheck yet? So we're still living off the rest of my waiter paychecks. And those, you know, not that much."

"You keep saying 'we'," Peter narrowed his eyes, latching onto that.

Stiles actually froze at that, looking caught. "Yes."

"Who is we?" Peter asked more directly, rolling his eyes. "You don't talk a lot about yourself. Outside of… what you told us last week at the café."

"I… live with," Stiles paused tentatively. "Someone."

Peter tilted his head, so very intrigued. He was addicted to this boy, he needed to learn more about Stiles, wanted to learn everything there was about him. What did 'someone' mean? The way he said it, it was a loaded word. A romantic partner? His wolf growled deeply displeased by that.

"Are they… in the know?" Peter asked tentatively.

More reluctance, before Stiles nodded. "I was… I mean, it's only been three weeks. But I've noticed the way your pack's been stalking me. So I was… thinking of… I wanted to ask you if he could… meet the pack. I like your pack. It might be… good for him."

Him. Peter's wolf grew more agitated. He knew Stiles was gay. Was this a boyfriend? Did Stiles have a werewolf boyfriend? It was terrifying how attached his wolf was to the boy, how attached he was to the boy. But at this point, Peter fully considered Stiles his.

"Friday night, why don't you and that… friend… of yours come over to our den for pack dinner? He has a chance to meet everyone and the pack would love to have you over."

Stiles stuffed his face with beans and Peter's thoughts wandered somewhere else entirely at the way Stiles' cheeks bulged. He could imagine stuffing his cock between those pink lips, stuffing him, having those beautiful doe-eyes stare up at him while the boy was on his knees for Peter. Mh. What a delicious mental picture. He offered a lazy, pleased smile at the thought.

"Okay," Stiles shrugged. "I'm also noting the way you fully did not react to your betas stalking me. Just, so you know. I noticed that. Which makes me think it's Alpha sanctioned."

Peter's smile was all teeth, maybe some fangs. "I just watch out for what's mine."

Stiles choked on the beans, coughing violently, before Peter continued. "And you're my secretary."